“I’m sorry, baby,” he said, mouth against her breast. “I can’t be gentle. Not this time.”
“Who’s asking you to be gentle?” Dev threaded her hands in his hair. “Just fuck me, Jake. Please.”
She didn’t have to say another word. Jake pulled her back into his arms and lifted her legs around his waist, the entrance to her body poised above his straining cock. He rubbed himself back and forth in her moist heat while she clung to his shoulders, crying out his name. She was wet. She was hot against him. He knew she would be tight. So tight, he doubted he could hold on for long.
He wrapped his hand around the base of his cock and thrust into her, seating himself to the hilt.
Devlin gasped, “Oh God! Yes!” She came the instant he entered her. Her body contracted around him over and over again, milking him. Damn, he’d never felt anything like her. She was so incredibly responsive to his touch, his every movement. Before her orgasm ended, he began to move his hips, thrusting in and out, backing her against the elevator wall to get more leverage. He heard Devlin whimper, and for a brief instant, he was afraid he’d hurt her, but one look at her and he realized she whimpered in ecstasy. She looked right back at him, her aquamarine eyes wild, sparking gold, half closed with pleasure.
He heard Devlin murmur, “Yes, Jake. Yes. Oh my God,” and Jake knew she was coming again.
He crushed his mouth on hers, and he pumped his hips harder. He felt her second orgasm begin, and as her slick, silky body grabbed his cock, he thrust hard into her, joining them as close as was humanly possible. There wasn’t a single thought in his head. Everything about Jake, his entire consciousness, was buried deep inside Devlin. At that moment, his seed exploded from him into her very core, hot and vital, four years of dreaming about this moment ending in one indescribable, world-shattering orgasm. He groaned low in his throat, his lips pressed against hers, while she thrust her tongue into his mouth, gentle now. Jake leaned both hands against the elevator wall, legs shaking, cock still twitching, deep inside the woman he loved.
* * * *
Conscious thought returned by degrees. Devlin recognized that she still had her legs wrapped around Jake’s waist. He was still seated deep inside her. She didn’t want to let him go. Somehow, she had known that if they ever managed to get together, the two of them would be incendiary, but imagining something and actually doing it were very, very different. She had underestimated the earth-shattering power of making love to Jake McKenna. She thought of how he looked just before he came. Like a wild stallion, eyes on fire, primitive, violent, possessive, virile, yet protective all at the same time. She shivered as she pictured him making love to her from behind. Devlin wondered if she’d lost her mind. How fast could someone go from zero to sixty? Because when she walked off that plane, she was at zero velocity. Now it felt more like she was moving at terminal velocity, and damn, but she didn’t want to stop. Ever.
Jake ran his hands over her breasts, down her sides. He withdrew from Devlin, taking care not to hurt her, lowering her legs to the floor. She sucked in a breath as he did so, groaning out her disagreement. Jake smiled. He adjusted himself and zipped up his jeans.
“There’s more where that came from, baby,” he whispered in her ear. “But right now, I think we better get you dressed and out of this elevator before they send the cops. I just realized that someone has been buzzing us on the intercom. Probably listening to every single word we didn’t say.”
Devlin laughed.
* * * *
Jake helped her on with her clothes, running his fingers up the inside of her thighs as he pulled on her panties, feeling for himself the wetness they’d created between her legs. Devlin responded to his touch immediately. He thought about making her come again, but he forced himself to stop. They needed to get to the hotel room before somebody really did call the police. He loved her body. Her legs were long and leanly muscled, still coltish, as they’d been when she was younger. Though he knew Dev was self-conscious, he’d never minded the scars she carried on her thighs from the accident, when they’d had to screw together both her shattered femurs.
She had a neat patch of dark amber curls at her woman’s mound. They glistened now with his semen, and he could feel himself growing hard again at the sight. Her hips were narrow, but still just rounded enough not to be boyish. He loved her flat stomach, the muscles tight, her skin pure velvet. He could see the tan lines left from what was obviously her bikini, and he hoped she’d brought it with her. He touched the slight blemish over her rib cage where her uncle had battered her and broken three ribs. He followed his fingers with his mouth, wishing he could take the mark away, the memory away, but if he did, he would never have met Dev in the first place.
Devlin had perfect breasts, Jake thought, as he helped her on with her shirt. His brother used to say when they were growing up, “More than a handful is a waste.” She had two lovely, sensitive handfuls, tipped by ripe, rosy nipples that, as far as he could tell, were constantly erect, and he rubbed his palms over them one more time before her tee shirt covered them. Like her legs, her arms were lean, and he could feel the muscles ripple beneath her skin. She was scarred there too, with a large scar on her left shoulder and another on her right forearm, slicing from her wrist all the way to her elbow. Though he couldn’t see it now, he knew about the worst scar of all on her lower back, where the surgeons had fused three vertebrae. The bone grafts had left her with thin scars on both hips. He knew because he’d seen every one of them when he examined her years ago on the floor in the stock room of the Kmart. They were seared into his memory.
He reached a big, rough hand to Devlin’s neck, caressing the tiny butterfly scar in the hollow of her throat. Her hands fluttered up to cover his, her eyes searching his, questioning. In answer, he leaned down and kissed her there. Then he punched the emergency stop button again, and the elevator moved upward. Devlin retrieved her sandals in silence while Jake grabbed her bags.
“We have four hours,” Jake said with a wink. “What would you like to do?”
Devlin grinned wickedly. “Talk? We’ve got four years of catching up to do.”
“Not on your life,” replied Jake, challenging her with an equally wolfish grin. “Talk is the last thing on my mind.”
* * * *
Janice was irritated. Even from her office in the corner of the ICU, she could hear Dr. Workman chatting with Amy. Apparently Mike Jones was getting married this weekend, to that mouse he met four years ago during the William Franz episode. The incident that put her mother in prison. Dr. Workman and his wife and Amy and her husband were invited. That meant Jake would be back in town. Probably that Devlin girl too. Janice knew that it shouldn’t bother her anymore, but it did. It bothered her a lot.
Janice still considered herself an attractive woman. She was only thirty-one. Her pregnancy hadn’t changed her figure much at all. She worked hard to keep herself in good shape. It was just that one year when everything happened that she fell apart. She hadn’t had a drink since before Trevor was born. She’d kicked herself for a while, for endangering her child like that, but she was lucky. He turned out to be a good-natured, healthy little boy.
He meant the world to her. In fact, he was her one constant. Two years ago, at her father’s urging and with his financial backing, the hospital had opened an on-site daycare center. After her promotion to ICU charge nurse, and her switch to day shift, she took advantage of it. Whenever she had a break, she could spend time with her son.
It was almost funny. Janice was able to enroll her son in an on-site daycare center because her father had remarried three years ago. Her stepmother, Cindy, was a surgical nurse only a year older than Janice. They’d gone to nursing school together. Now Janice had a half brother younger than her own son. The one good thing about the arrangement was that her father seemed happy, he adored his little son, and to her surprise, he adored Trevor.
Yes, Janice thought, it was almost funny. Janice had Cindy to thank for her father’s chan
ge of heart. He’d disowned her when he learned she was pregnant and had no clue who the father was. But when Cindy began dating him, she convinced him that Janice had been through a difficult time and deserved a chance to pull herself together. He’d taken her in and for the first time in a long time, behaved like a father. Once Janice was back on her feet, he helped her get her old job back at the hospital, and last year she’d gotten the promotion.
There was no question about it. Things were improving. But now she had to listen to Ken Workman and Amy Connor extol the virtues of Mike Jones and that mousy little teacher. Every single word they said reminded her of Jake McKenna, the man she had wanted to marry, and that stupid runaway Devlin Barre. The two people who’d put her mother in prison. Janice found it hard to get beyond that fact.
Her mother was due to be released soon. Her sentence had been shortened for good behavior. When she was last there, Janice tried to discuss plans for the release day. She was supposed to come stay with her and Trevor, but her mother’s response had been vague. She seemed distant and preoccupied, even a little divorced from reality. Janice, of all people, understood. Everyone, her former husband, her two sisters, all her friends and acquaintances, had abandoned her. Janice’s father had never been to the prison. Not once. Janice was her only visitor. At first, after Trevor was born, her mother seemed to look forward to their visits. Lately, she appeared withdrawn. Janice planned to see her next week. She’d made an appointment with the prison psychiatrist to ask if he’d evaluate her mother and make some recommendations.
Her mother shouldn’t even be in this horrible situation. Janice was convinced she’d been duped by William Franz. He was off somewhere in Asia, while her mother was stuck in a cell. Just like she herself had been duped by Jake. She knew why he’d come by that night. It didn’t take a genius to figure it out. She’d seen his truck parked across the street from her house. She knew Jake well enough to guess he’d come by because he was pissed off about something and he wanted to screw somebody. But he’d apparently thought better of it and driven off. The next thing she knew, he was standing on her front porch. Her heart had pounded. Despite her anger, she’d still wanted him. Despite what he did, she still wanted him. That made it even harder to forgive him.
Janice tried to put Jake out of her mind. She had a schedule to make, census figures to pull together for the administration, and staff evaluation forms to fill out. But no matter how she tried, listening to talk of Mike’s wedding ate at her. After all this time, Jake’s rejection still ate at her. Maybe he’d get in a car accident while he was here in Denver and end up in her ICU. Or maybe the entire wedding party could come down with food poisoning. She almost laughed aloud at the thought. She doubted she’d ever have the opportunity to mess anything up for the great Jake McKenna. Janice had to admit it was just plain pathetic that the mere thought of him brought back all the old feelings. Maybe someday, if she met someone else, someone who could wipe the memories of Jake right out of her mind, she’d be able to put him behind her once and for all. Unfortunately, it hadn’t happened yet.
* * * *
Devlin followed Jake to the room. He shifted her bags and swiped the key card. She was perfectly capable of carrying her bags herself, but he insisted. As he opened the door, she stepped around to hold it for him and gaped. He’d reserved a suite.
“What did you do, Jake? This is the most beautiful hotel room I’ve ever been in.”
“Well,” he said with a grin and a shrug, “I figured we could use the space.”
“Oh my God!” she exclaimed, peeking into the bedroom. Devlin sat on the king-sized, super soft bed and began bouncing up and down. Her own movement caught her eye, and she glanced up at the ceiling.
“A mirror?” she cried and began to giggle. “Jake, there’s a mirror on the ceiling.”
Jake set her bags down on a luggage rack and joined her on the bed. His bounce flipped her onto her back. He loomed over her with a big grin.
“Just thought it might be fun.” He leaned over to kiss her. Suddenly Devlin remembered her dresses and pushed him away “I almost forgot. I need to hang my clothes to get the wrinkles out.”
Jake lay back on the bed, his hands behind his head. . Devlin tackled the hanging bag first. Out came a backless emerald green silk cocktail dress. It was covered with a delicate, very elegant pattern of Japanese fans.
“Did you paint that?” Jake rose to his feet. He held the material in his hands. Just like the bridesmaid dresses, the fans were not painted on, but rather, color had been removed to make the design.
“Yes.”
“How do you do this?” Jake asked. “It’s like looking at a shadow.”
Devlin spread the dress over her palm, explaining, “I use a dilute bleach solution to fade the fabric. I have to be careful. If the bleach is too strong, it not only ruins the design, it ruins the silk. I have to admit, though, sometimes my mistakes can be very interesting.”
She pulled out a turquoise blouse with a much paler blue pattern of roses.
“This was a mistake. I spilled some bleach, here.” She pointed to a rosette in the very center of the back, which was just perceptibly lighter than the others. “I didn’t want to throw the silk away, so I had to use a stronger solution. I think it turned out rather well.”
Devlin blushed at her words. Jake took the blouse from her and hung it up. He ran a hand through her hair, teasing the curls, mussing them around her face.
“You should be proud of what you do,” he said. “I am. Beth showed me the dresses you designed for her. I know nothing about women’s clothes, but I know something beautiful when I see it.”
Jake rubbed the back of his fingers along her cheekbone. Devlin closed her eyes and covered his hand with hers exactly as she had four and half years ago, the day she told him she loved him. Just then, her stomach growled, and she laughed.
“I need to finish hanging this stuff up,” she said. “And then I need something to eat. I’m starving.”
“So am I,” answered Jake, his voice a whisper as he reached for her.
“Jake McKenna!” she exclaimed. “You are a very, very bad man.”
“Always have been.” He leaned over to nibble on her neck.
He swept Devlin up in his arms.
“Where are we going?”
Jake looked down at her, grinning. “You need a bath.”
Devlin smacked her palms against his hard chest.
“What do you mean I need a bath? Are you saying I smell?”
“Yes.” He bit her earlobe, inhaling deep. “You smell like I just fucked you, and that reminds me I’m ready to do it again.”
“Oh, God, you’re insatiable.” Devlin laughed, her body shaking against his. She wrapped her arms around his neck, tilting her head and biting his earlobe in reply.
“Ow!” Jake yelped, whipping her around into the bathroom. “You know, I can play rough too.”
“I’m counting on it.” Jake set her on her feet. “Whoa!” she exclaimed, gazing around the bathroom, stunned. “This is the Honeymoon Suite, isn’t it?”
Jake laughed as he turned the big handle and water splashed into the oversized whirlpool tub.
“You like big things, don’t you?” he asked wickedly.
Devlin looked into his face, her eyes on fire.
“Yeah,” she answered. “You’ve figured me out at last, Jake McKenna. I’m quite fond of big things.”
* * * *
Dev sat between Jake’s legs, leaning back against his hard chest as he squeezed more body wash into his hands. He’d turned her into melted butter. His hands roamed her breasts, kneading her nipples, pinching them into peaks. His lips slid along the curve of her shoulder. Jake moaned, the sound a low rumble in his chest, and she felt his erection press rock hard against her back. If she’d been capable of movement, Devlin would have climbed on him, but Jake’s big, calloused hands were working all the kinks out of her muscles. He had her so relaxed, she was immobile. Devlin drowsed against
him.
She felt more than heard Jake say something. It sounded like, “Stand up.”
“Hmmm?” she murmured, half asleep.
“Stand up,” he repeated, his voice hoarse.
Devlin reluctantly rose from the tub, hot water running down her skin. She started to turn toward Jake, but he reached up and grabbed her hips to stop her.
“Close your eyes,” he commanded.
She did so without a word, her breath quickening.
She felt him slowly run his hands up along her legs, from her ankles to the top of her thighs and back down again. His touch startled her. It was almost delicate. Goose bumps formed in the wake of his fingers. A groan escaped Devlin’s lips.
“Shhhh,” whispered Jake. “Just feel.”
Suddenly his hands were on her bottom, kneading her, running his fingers along the cleft between her buttocks.
“God, you are so beautiful,” he said.
Her knees grew weak. She reached out to the side, searching for something to steady herself, but there was nothing. Except for Jake. He slid his thumb inside her, all the way inside her. With one hand on her hip to support her, he slid his thumb in and out, again gentle, delicate, so delicate Devlin was tempted to scream. She held it inside, concentrating on his every movement.
It sounded as if Jake had risen to his knees behind her. She could feel his mouth on her back, kissing her scar, nipping at her bottom, his thumb still moving rhythmically inside her. Jake pressed his chest against her while he wrapped his other arm around her belly, his hand sinking lower until he found her clit. Devlin’s breath came in ragged gasps. She rubbed herself against his fingers, seeking her release.
“Don’t move,” he said, his breathing as ragged as hers. “Let me do it for you.”
Oh God, Devlin thought. She wondered what Jake McKenna had in store for her. Just then Jake bit down on her hip, holding her in place, his thumb still moving in and out of her, his fingers rubbing circles around her swollen nub. Devlin was strung so tight, she would have fallen without his support. Jake seemed to feel her climax building despite the fact that she held herself perfectly still. He moved his fingers faster, pressed harder.
Barrett, Julia Rachel - Anytime Darlin' (Siren Publishing Allure) Page 15