Wallflowers:Three of a Kind

by CP Smith

  Bending at the waist, Devin put his shoulder to her gut then pitched her up and over his shoulder.

  Calla cried out, “No!” but he was already moving.

  Strawn blocked Jones with his badge, giving Devin clear passage out of the room. He kept walking down the hall as Armstrong continued to shout, “Jessie,” stepping over the prone body of the man as he headed out the front door. He didn’t put Calla down until he’d reached the truck. Ripping open the door, he grabbed her arm and shoved her gently inside, and then climbed in, securing her to his side so she couldn’t escape.

  “You can’t stop him,” she mumbled.

  “I can stop him.”

  “He’s gonna destroy you.”

  “He can try.”

  “You’ll end up hating me.”

  He reached out and turned her face to look at him. Her eyes were red, weary in a way he hadn’t seen before, and he cursed Armstrong, vowing to do whatever it took to bring him down. “Never,” he whispered, brushing a kiss across her lips. “Not in a million years would I blame you for your fucked-up family.”

  She bit her lip then placed her head on his shoulder, curling her arms around his waist. “We’ll see,” she whispered.

  She was quiet for a moment as he drew her deeper into his arms, then tensed and whispered, “Maria?”

  He squeezed her tighter, but said nothing.

  “Poor Carmella.”

  “We’ll find them.”

  “Are you any closer?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Anyone I know?”

  “Later,” he mumbled. “I’ll explain tomorrow.”

  After her reaction to his accident, it was clear she suspected her grandfather was involved somehow. He wanted her away from that man’s clutches and on firmer ground before he confided in her.

  Strawn climbed into the cab and tossed a bag at Calla. “Guy named Douglas said this belonged to you,” he explained then started the engine and turned to Devin, grumbling, “Fuckin’ cowboy,” before putting the truck into drive.

  The sky above them turned gray as they headed in silence back to Savannah, the effect of a hurricane brewing off the coast of Florida. When they crossed the bridge into Georgia, Calla sat up and dug through her purse, pulling out a mirror. “Think they’ll notice my face at work?”

  “You’re not goin’ into work. Not after the mornin’ you’ve had. Strawn’s takin’ me to rent a vehicle, then you and I are gonna take the rest of the day to just be.”

  “Just be?”

  “Just be.”

  She smiled and curled her body back around his, whispering, “I don’t know how to just be.”

  Devin placed his lips to the top of her head and smiled. “Then I’ll teach you.”

  ✿✿✿

  “I don’t think this is a good idea,” I muttered to Devin, watching Strawn pull away.

  He turned my shoulders to face him, running his hands up my arms until he’d buried them in my hair. Tugging gently till my head tipped back, he lowered his mouth to mine, and I opened for him, drinking in his taste.

  “Been waitin’ to do that since you curled around me.”

  I melted against him, my grandfather’s betrayal forgotten in his strong arms. “You have?” I whispered.

  “Oh, yeah.”

  “Devin?”

  “Yeah, baby?”

  “Maybe you should get a car instead of another bike.”

  “I’m a Harley guy.”

  “I still think it’s a bad idea.”

  I couldn’t get my grandfather’s threat out of my head. Knowing that he tampered with Devin’s brakes meant he was willing to do anything to get his way.

  “It’s a great fuckin’ idea,” Devin chuckled, then grabbed my hand and pulled me through the door of a Harley dealership.

  “You just had an accident. Shouldn’t you recover a few days before climbing back on one?”

  “Nope.”

  “You’re not the least bit apprehensive?”

  “Nope. ‘Get back in the saddle’ my daddy always said.”

  “No mulling things over, considering every option?”

  “Babe. I’m a man. Women mull things over, men act.”

  He had me there. I spent five minutes trying to decide what shade of lip-gloss to wear.

  “I can act,” I lied.

  “Prove it.”

  “All right.” I looked around the store at the shiny bikes then turned back to Devin and asked, “How, exactly, do you want me to act?”

  “Pick out my next bike.”

  “Me?”

  “You’re gonna be spendin’ time on it, aren’t you?”

  Lord, I hope so.

  “But I don’t know anything about bikes.”

  “Go with your gut. Which one calls to you?”

  Which one calls to me?

  I scanned the showroom and paused on a vintage-looking Harley in bubblegum pink. The body style appealed to me. It harkened back to the days of James Dean, when being cool meant everything.

  “No,” Devin mumbled in my ear. “You have excellent taste and it’s a sweet ride, baby, but I’m not ridin’ a pink bike, even for you.”

  “You wanted me to act,” I giggled.

  “We have that model in a gunmetal gray,” a man called out from across the room.

  I looked up at Devin and he mumbled, “Better. Can we see it?”

  “Follow me,” he instructed. “We just got it in.”

  We wound around to the back of the store then stepped into a stockroom, where several bikes were stored. The salesman pointed to the corner, and my breath caught. Everything about the bike looked like Devin. Solid, yet sleek, and the finish reminded me of the barrel of a gun.

  Devin took my hand and led me to the beast, then cocked his leg over the bike before helping me climb on. We fit perfectly together on the seat. My front nestled firmly against his back the way I liked it, and neither one of us was crowded. It was as if the bike had been custom made to fit our bodies.

  Devin checked the gauges, flipped switches, and checked the passenger footrests to make sure I was safe while riding.

  “You like?” he asked.

  I rolled my eyes.

  “She likes it,” he chuckled. “Price?”

  “Just under twenty grand.”

  Devin didn’t hesitate. “We’ll take it.”

  “Just like that?” I asked.

  “I need wheels, baby, and my other bike is totaled. I paid it off three years ago, and my replacement insurance will cover half the cost of this bike.”

  “Okay, but don’t you need to test drive it first?”

  “Babe, it’s a hog,” was his only answer.

  All righty then.

  An hour, two helmets, and one new bike payment later, we stood outside the dealership.

  “Where are we headed?” I asked as Devin secured the helmet to my head.

  “The open road and Tybee Island,” he replied. “You wanna learn to just be, then there’s nothin’ like the wind in your hair to get you there.”

  “My aunts have a beach house there,” I told him.

  “You don’t say?” He grinned, his eyes lighting from within, the blue almost glowing in the midday sun.

  “Do you want to see it?”

  His arm shot out and wrapped around my waist, tugging me into his body. “Forewarning,” he mumbled low, his voice smooth like velvet. “When we get there, I’m gonna take my time making you come with my mouth. Then I’m gonna bury myself deep and make you come again.”

  My whole body trembled at the thought of his mouth and other parts of his anatomy making me come, and the smirk he’d been holding on to turned into a full-fledged, striking white smile. “Do I get to play?” I found myself saying.

  His smile vanished instantly and his face grew dark and hungry. “Jesus,” he mumbled, pulling me closer. “Jesus,” he repeated.

  “Is that a yes?” I questioned while staring at his lips.

  “Thirty fuckin�
� years I waited for you thinkin’ you didn’t exist, so, yeah, that’s definitely a yes.”

  Hearing that, I got on my toes and nipped his bottom lip then moved to his ear. I felt the same way. I hadn’t known I was waiting for him until I saw him in the courtyard, but now I knew better. When he looked at me, I could see myself through his eyes and didn’t feel scared or alone.

  “Can we go now?” I breathed into his ear.

  In answer, he grabbed a handful of my hair that was peeking out from underneath the helmet and tugged, his mouth finding mine for a deep, wet, thoroughly delicious kiss. “Get your ass on my bike,” he growled when he ripped his mouth from mine.

  I stumbled back when he let go then righted myself and reached out for his hand as he settled on the Harley.

  “You’ll need to take Islands Expressway and keep goin’,” I told him. “It’s about a thirty-minute drive.”

  He turned several switches then pushed one with his thumb, and the Harley roared to life. Devin revved the engine a few times then turned to me and grinned, stating, “I’ll get us there in fifteen.”

  Ten

  Free

  TYBEE ISLAND IS THE epitome of rustic coastal life. Quaint wooden piers dot the sandy beaches, unspoiled by time and innovation. Just over three square miles, the island draws visitors and native coastal Georgians year-round. A favorite spot for beach weddings, we came across one as we pulled in next to my aunts’ cottage.

  Devin wasn’t kidding when he said he’d get us here faster than the thirty minutes it normally took. He also wasn’t lying when he said being on the back of his bike, with the wind whipping my hair around, would teach me to just be. And after a hellish morning, curled around his back, my chin resting on his shoulder as he opened the throttle, I finally relaxed. I put my grandfather and Maria’s death out of my mind for the day, and focused on the man in front of me.

  After removing our helmets, we sat silently on the bike and watched the couple. Their hands were intertwined as they faced each other. The bride wore a simple white dress and daisies in her hair. The groom, white slacks and a white shirt. Both were shoeless and wore matching smiles.

  Devin reached back and pulled me to sit in front of him, wrapping his arms around my waist then resting his chin on my shoulder like I’d done on the trip up. I leaned into him and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, never taking my eyes off the couple.

  “They look so happy. So . . . content.”

  “That’s what life’s about,” he mumbled in my ear. “Findin’ someone who completes you then makin’ ‘em yours.”

  Turning to look at him, wondering if he would be the one who would finally complete me, I placed my hand on his cheek then brushed my lips across his.

  He let go of my waist and cupped my face gently, then angled his head and took my mouth in a slow kiss that sparked the fires that had banked but never fully extinguished. When I moaned, he took the kiss deeper, running his hand to my ass and lifting me again until I straddled his lap. The pressure on my core ignited me further, and I ground myself against him.

  Devin froze, ripping his mouth from mine, growling, “Which cottage?” as he stood from the bike, taking me with him.

  I curled my legs around his waist and breathed out, “To your right,” before burying my face in his neck and tasting the salt on his skin.

  Now that the time had come, I realized I didn’t want to play, didn’t want to be slowly caressed, treated like cut glass. I wanted to be manhandled, wanted my hair pulled and to be taken in a way that I’d feel it for days to come. I wanted him to be a caveman. To bend me over a couch until I couldn’t breathe for screaming his name.

  Devin took the steps to the cottage in one stride, his boots pounding across the weathered porch. As he approached the front door, I licked my way up his neck and whispered, “Take me hard.”

  He hesitated for a brief moment, but didn’t miss a step. Prowling up to the front door, he put a foot to it, splintering the doorjamb, and the door flew wide open. He stepped through, kicked the broken door closed, then moved to the dining room table.

  My ass hit the tabletop, then his mouth was on me, his tongue thrusting as he popped the button on my slacks. Raising my hips, Devin pulled them from my body then tore my silk panties down and flipped me over.

  His leather jacket hit the floor first then his shirt followed. I felt him working the button on his jeans as his other hand pinned my body to the table.

  “You on the pill?” he asked as he kicked off his boots and his zipper came down.

  I nodded, then a moment later, he raised my hips, ran the head of his cock across my swollen folds, and surged in.

  I cried out at the intrusion. I hadn’t had a man inside me in five years, and Devin was larger than any who came before him.

  “You wanted it, you take it all,” he growled.

  I whimpered, but surged back, burying him to the root. A low moan spilled from his throat, so I rotated my hips slowly, causing a hiss to escape.

  Reaching forward with both hands, Devin grabbed hold of my blouse, jerking until the buttons popped off, then pulled down my bra and found my nipples, rolling them as he pounded into me from behind. Each thrust was deep, hard, and the sweetest torment.

  Pushing up with my hands, using my feet for support, I rammed back down on his upward thrust and cried out again. He was stretching me to my limit, reaching sensitive nerves that shot my desire to a heavenly level.

  “Harder,” I pleaded. I wanted to burn for him, wanted to feel the red-hot fire that took you over the edge into bliss.

  On a grunt, Devin surged forward, pinning me to the table, one hand capturing mine so I couldn’t move, then he pulled out slowly, caressing my walls until I panted with need.

  “Please,” I gasped, bucking my hips to take him deeper.

  Devin wrapped my hair around his hand and tugged my head to the side, then planted himself full inside me before leaning down and taking my mouth. We exchanged air, breathing off the other while he devoured me.

  The room spun, spiraling as needles of pleasure built to a boiling point. He wasn’t moving, but his size stimulated nerves no one ever had, and my orgasm began to build. I squirmed as it started to crescendo, tightening around his length. Devin groaned, ripping his mouth from mine, then pulled out and slammed back in. I began chanting, “Oh, God,” as he rotated his hips, then cried out in ecstasy when his hand moved between us and his thumb found my other entrance, an entrance I’d never considered sexual in my life, and he pressed in until his thumb was fully seated.

  Heat scorched me from the added pressure, and I plunged headfirst into oblivion, screaming Devin’s name as I bucked back against the onslaught of sensations.

  ✿✿✿

  Devin’s passion for Calla was unparalleled, unlike anything he’d experienced before. Pulling her back to his front, he curled his hands around her shoulders and drove deep. She slumped against him, her climax having robbed her of strength.

  Needing to feel her skin against his, he pulled her blouse from her body, then released the hooks of her bra and let it fall to the ground.

  Devin captured a pebbled nipple then, pinching and tugging until she responded with a moan, her hips swiveled in arousal.

  “Touch yourself,” he grunted, as he felt the quickening in his loins. He was about to explode and wanted her with him for the ride.

  She did as she was told then threw her head back against his shoulder. The curve of her neck called out to him, so he licked a trail down to her shoulder and sunk his teeth into the ivory skin. She bucked, cried out, and then clamped around his throbbing shaft. He thrust once more then buried his face in her neck and emptied his seed into her warm silken depths, a low groan spilling from his throat as she chanted his name.

  A moment later, Calla’s legs gave out, so he picked her up and carried her into one of the bedrooms. Pulling back the covers on the bed, he placed her on the crisp sheets, removed his jeans, and then followed, pulling her back in
to his body.

  He lay there silently, running his hand up and down her spine as he came to grips with the unfamiliar feelings rioting for attention. Though he’d known her less than a week, the curve of her body, the scent of her hair, even the flecks of gray in her soft purple eyes all seemed familiar to him. He felt a soul-deep connection to her and knew without question that he was holding his future.

  Calla quivered as she pressed her body to his, her exquisite scent of innocence and baby powder washing over Devin as her hair brushed his stomach.

  Lifting her head, she placed wet kisses on his chest, her tongue darting out to taste his skin, and he grew hard again. Her soft hand drifted down to wrap around his shaft, and she lifted her eyes to him. The soft shade of her eyes had turned darker, hungry, and he growled, lifting her to straddle his waist then centered her above his now aching cock and surged up.

  Her head dropped back as he filled her, pushing her full breasts toward his mouth. He latched on, nipping a bud as she rode him hard. She whimpered in anticipation, trying to find the release she was working toward, so Devin knifed up and flipped her to her back, sinking deeper inside her.

  Her neck arched, the tendons stretched to their limit, then her mouth opened and a sweet mewling escaped.

  Tipping her head down, she locked eyes with Devin, and he grunted to keep from spilling inside from the fucking beauty he saw.

  Reaching for her hand, he placed it on their connection until she gripped him hard, then he found her clit and rolled it. She exploded around him, and he followed but kept his eyes on her until he was empty, not wanting to miss a single expression on her face.

  When she fell slack, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she tried to draw in air, he fell to his side, taking her with him, but kept his hand on her ass to stay buried inside her as he took her mouth and drank in her sweet taste. Something primal in his DNA didn’t want to lose the connection, didn’t want his seed to escape her body, so he drew her leg over his hip and held her tight against him.

  No words were needed after the way he’d taken her. She’d wanted him hard, rough, wanted to be claimed by him like an animal takes his mate, and he’d done just that, had claimed every inch of her with no regrets.