by Tiffany Snow
Water and soap ran from my scalp down my face and over my shoulders as I bathed. The bubbles tickled as they sluiced down my body, and I hoped I could so easily wash away the blood on my conscience.
Devon stepped in behind me, closing the shower door and enclosing us in a steam-filled cocoon. I turned toward him, blinking away the water from my eyes. He was so much larger than me; the width and depth of his shoulders and torso took my breath away.
He seemed content to let me wet a cloth and gently clean the blood from his face and arm. Scrapes marred his ribs and the backs of his knuckles. I was as gentle as I could be, not that I thought I would have been able to tell if I’d been hurting him.
Lifting his hand, I pressed my lips to his raw knuckles. I didn’t know why and I didn’t think. I just did it. Devon seemed so strong, invincible. Yet here was evidence, proof that he was just a man, and bled like any other man.
Devon moved his hand to cradle my cheek. I closed my eyes, tipping my head into his hand. His thumb brushed my cheekbone.
We stood there in silence and I reveled in the quiet peace he’d brought to my mind. Devon was strength and safety, the events of tonight making it clear to me in a way words couldn’t that he would never hurt me, not like I’d been hurt before.
I expected him to kiss me, touch me, but he did nothing except continue caressing my face. I opened my eyes and looked up at him. His forehead was creased in a frown as he studied me.
“What’s the matter?” I asked.
But he just shook his head. Reaching behind me, he turned off the water, then wrapped me in a towel. I grabbed another for my dripping hair and followed him into the bedroom. A towel was wrapped around his hips and I felt a bit disappointed. Perhaps he just wasn’t in the mood. He had just fought off two would-be killers, after all. I’d be tired, too.
I dried my hair the best I could, then finger-combed it. My hair was so straight there were few tangles. I sat on the bed and watched as Devon opened the closet. To my surprise, he had clothes hanging in there. Reaching inside, he grabbed a shirt and slipped it off the hanger.
“Here,” he said, handing it to me. I stared questioningly at it.
“You’re giving me your shirt?” I asked in confusion.
“We’ll sleep here tonight. Thought you’d like something to wear.”
That made my eyebrows climb up my forehead. Devon had been perfectly fine with us sleeping naked together the other night. In fact, he seemed to prefer it. It took me a few moments to figure it out and when I did, I heaved a sigh.
“I shouldn’t have told you,” I said.
Devon didn’t even glance at me as he busied himself doing something on his cell phone.
“That’s why, isn’t it,” I persisted.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
His muttered reply only made me angry.
“I don’t want your pity, Devon,” I said. “I shared something with you. That doesn’t make me . . .” I searched for the right word. “. . . less . . . or fragile or any other adjective you have inside your head.”
“It’s been a long night,” he said, still not looking at me. “We both could use some rest.”
Tears stung my eyes and I furiously blinked them back. I’d finally found a man who treated me like a desirable woman, and whom I desired in return. We’d had amazing sex and I craved the intimacy again. But the moment he found out I’d been abused, he’d labeled me off-limits.
“So you don’t want me anymore?” I asked, my voice louder than I’d intended. I was getting more and more upset, which just made me angrier.
Devon ignored me.
“Answer me, damn it! Since when do you care about my past? You told me you didn’t give a damn. What happened to that?”
“Well, I do give a damn!”
Devon’s shout startled me into silence. He’d spun around, his furious eyes glaring at me. His mouth was set in a hard line and his hands clenched into fists. When he spoke again, his voice was much quieter and more controlled, but no less furious.
“I do, and I don’t like it.”
Devon felt something for me. Cared about me. I was so shocked at his admission, I just gaped at him.
After a tense moment of charged silence between us, he turned away. He dropped his towel from around his waist, pulled a pair of pants from the closet, and began to dress.
My mind raced as I tried to figure out how to get past this new barrier he’d put up between us. He was a man, which meant he had one universal weakness, though it would perhaps take more effort than usual to exploit it.
“Before you, no man was able to reach me,” I said bluntly. “It was as if I’d been frozen in ice, and I didn’t know if it was only fear that froze me, or if I was just broken beyond repair.”
Devon made no indication he’d heard me or that he was even listening, but I kept going.
“Then you came along, and showed me I’d just needed the right man. That I’d needed you.”
I unwrapped the towel from around my torso and tossed it. The terry cloth landed in a puddle near Devon’s feet. His head dipped down to gaze at it and his hands that had been busy fastening his belt stilled.
“Over the years, I had to take care of myself. I couldn’t let a man close, but my body wanted to feel. So I learned what to do.”
I sat back against the pile of pillows at the headboard. My nerves were stretched thin at what I was going to do, the wild idea that had struck me. There was a chance Devon would be disgusted, but I was betting that would be the last reaction he’d have.
Pulling my knees to my chest and planting my feet flat on the mattress, I spread my thighs apart. Devon still had his back to me.
“Watch me, Devon.”
The mere idea of Devon watching made me wet and my hand drifted from my knee down my inner thigh. I didn’t know if he’d do it, if he’d turn around, and I held my breath. At last, he turned, almost reluctantly, as though he couldn’t quite help himself.
The blue of his eyes transfixed me and I focused on his steady gaze as my fingers brushed the flesh between my legs. I slipped a finger between my folds, the wetness there coating my skin. Rubbing my throbbing clit, I fought the urge to close my eyes. Devon’s gaze seemed to burn as I watched him watch me.
“I think of you now,” I managed to say. I pushed a finger inside and bit my lip at the sensation. Moving my finger in and out, I imagined it was Devon’s hand and my eyes fluttered shut.
A strong grip on each of my ankles had my eyes flying open. Devon pulled me to the edge of the bed until my legs dangled off, and before I’d even recovered from my surprise enough to wonder what he was doing, he’d dropped to his knees on the floor and his head was between my legs.
The breadth of his shoulders pushed my thighs apart, exposing me even more than before. His hand opened me wide and then his mouth was on me, his tongue lapping at my clit.
I cried out at the pleasure of it, the intimacy thrilling me. He pushed a thick finger inside me and I groaned. My hands clutched at his head as my body responded to what he was doing to me. My pussy was engorged and pulsing with heat. There wasn’t a thought in my head as every sense was focused on the touch of his mouth and hands.
Moans and gasps fell from my lips and his tongue moved faster, flicking at me until my legs trembled. My fingers dug into his hair as I lifted my hips, needing what was almost within reach. Devon groaned, adding a second finger to the one thrusting inside me.
My eyes squeezed shut and it felt as though I fell apart from the inside out as my orgasm exploded in waves. Wordless cries erupted from my throat and I could feel my body spasming around Devon’s fingers still deep inside me.
Heaving as though I’d just run a marathon, I pried my eyes open. Devon had stopped when his touch became too much and was now nuzzling the skin at the juncture of my thigh to my hi
p. He pressed his lips against my abdomen as I threaded my fingers through his hair.
I craved his skin against mine, wanted the hard length of him inside me. I pulled at his shoulders until he lifted his head. His lips were wet and red and I licked my own in response.
Devon crawled up the bed, straddling me, until he hovered over me on his hands and knees. I whimpered, my gaze fixed on his mouth, and he kissed me. His kiss was deep and I could taste myself on his tongue.
My hands went to his belt and the shyness I’d felt earlier had evaporated. It was a matter of a few tugs to unlatch the belt and draw down his zipper. He had nothing on underneath the slacks and his cock was heavy and thick in my hand. Devon groaned against my lips.
The head of his cock was as soft as silk and my thumb brushed the sensitive skin. Devon’s kisses turned hungry and urgent. Sliding an arm underneath me, he moved us farther back on the bed, away from the edge. I barely noticed. I wanted him inside me.
“Please,” I whispered. “Make love to me.”
For a fraction of a second, Devon went still, then he hooked a hand underneath each of my knees. Drawing them up toward my chest, he spread my legs and sank inside me in one hard thrust. I whimpered at the friction against my overly sensitized flesh. It felt too much, the hard stroke of his cock as he moved, and yet I wanted more.
“Watch me now,” he rasped. “Watch me take you.”
I gazed down at where our bodies joined, mesmerized at the sight of his glistening flesh sliding into mine. It felt as though he was staking his claim on me. I watched until a second, more powerful orgasm took me and my eyes squeezed shut again.
Devon’s hips pistoned hard into me, a wordless shout torn from his throat as he came. He hadn’t used a condom this time, which didn’t bother me at all. I was on birth control and somehow his not using the condom gave the act more meaning between us than it had before.
He lay on top of me and my legs cramped slightly as I circled them around his back. The warmth of his breath teased my neck as I held him close. The rapid beat of his heart overpowered mine as his chest pressed against me.
Pulling away, he rolled me with him, arranging us so he could pull the duvet to cover our bodies. There was a bit of a chill in the air and I let out a deep sigh. My body was sated and my mind was in a warm, fuzzy place with rainbows and cupids.
Devon lay facing me. I smiled a little at him, my chest full of feelings I didn’t yet want to put a name to.
He didn’t return my smile, but he did reach out and brush a stray lock of hair back from my face.
Despite my sated exhaustion, questions nagged at me about tonight. “Who were those men tonight?” I couldn’t help but ask. Though I was loath to bring back up the topic of the dead men, I wanted to know what was going on. What if I hadn’t been there tonight? Would Devon have managed to break free of that man’s choke hold?
“They work for a man,” he said. “A man who knows I’m looking for him.”
I frowned. “I thought the man you were looking for was Clive?”
“I let him think that, yes,” Devon said. “I was betting he’d give up information to save his own hide. And I was right.”
My hand rested in the empty space between us on the mattress. Devon seemed lost in his own thoughts as he threaded his fingers through mine, his thumb absently stroking my skin.
“Are you going to meet him tomorrow?”
“Of course.”
I swallowed. “But what if he double-crosses you again?”
Devon’s gaze focused on mine. “Then I’ll kill him.”
A cold chill went through me and I shivered. Wrapping an arm over my waist, Devon pulled me closer to him, tucking me into the warmth of his body.
“So why are you looking for this man?” I asked.
“He stole something very important,” he replied, “a seventy-year-old secret.”
“What could he possibly do with a secret that old?” I asked.
“Kill millions.”
I pulled back so I could look at Devon, my jaw gaping. Our eyes met. “You’re serious,” I said.
“I never joke about things like that.”
“And Mr. Galler?”
“Had known the secret for a very long time,” Devon finished.
“What is it?” I asked, unsure if I wanted to know such a thing or not.
“The details are still sketchy, which is why I need Clive’s help in order to stop them.”
“I’ll worry about you,” I hesitantly confessed.
Devon didn’t say anything. He just pulled me back toward him again until my cheek rested against his chest. His silence hurt. I felt like I’d been stripped bare tonight, revealing things about my past that no one besides Logan knew. Devon’s and my relationship, if you could even call it that, was a sexual one of convenience for him. Even with his earlier admission of caring a little for me, he’d also said he didn’t like it, which I took to mean he didn’t want to care about me.
Which was too bad, considering I was falling in love with him.
“Wake up, brat.”
I shuddered at the sound of his voice in my ear. I should have known that pretending to be asleep wouldn’t make him go away.
The covers were jerked out of my fisted grip, the cool night air in my room chilling me. A rush of cold sweat skated across my skin. I knew what was coming, and in that moment, I would have done anything to avoid it.
Jace yanked the sweatpants I wore down and off my legs, taking my underwear with them, and I knew better than to fight him. If I fought, he made sure it hurt. I despised myself for fearing the pain too much to fight him.
Pushing me, he made me turn over, and I heard the crinkle of paper as he unwrapped a condom. I hadn’t even known what that was the first time he’d done it. I’d learned quickly enough.
I buried my face in the bedcovers and tried not to make a sound. It hurt. It always did.
His guttural moan made me want to vomit and I choked back the bile.
“You like it, don’t you, brat,” he hissed.
Jace liked to talk and I tried my best to tune him out. I thought about school, about homework, about Logan, about how I could take a knife and slash my wrists and I’d never have to go through this again.
In spite of myself, I let out a whimper of pain.
Instantly, he slammed his palm into the side of my head.
“Not a sound, brat.”
My head throbbed from where he’d hit me, but I bit my lip until I tasted blood and didn’t make a sound.
I pretended I was somewhere else, a warm summer field, staring up at the clouds racing by overhead, Logan by my side. We’d make pictures of the clouds, laughing at some of the ideas we came up with. Rabbits skipping rope, elves lying side by side, bears reaching for a kite . . .
“Turn over,” he ordered, his harsh command dragging me back from where I’d retreated inside my head.
He was done and I knew what came next—what always came next. I hated it possibly more, but I also knew that he’d leave afterwards, so I did as he ordered, staring up at the dark ceiling rather than at him as he stood by my bed.
Jace leaned down, pressing his lips to mine. I didn’t move or even breathe. Finally, he lifted his head.
“You know I only do this because I love you,” he whispered. His hand brushed my hair and cheek. “You’re so pretty, and I love you so fucking much.” His fist tightened in my hair, making my eyes water, but I didn’t make a sound. “What the fuck am I supposed to do, brat? You make me do this. It’s your fault I’m this way.”
The moment my door closed, I was up and in the bathroom. I couldn’t shower, not so soon or he’d hear and come back to punish me. But I’d snuck antiseptic wipes from the kitchen into my bathroom and I used those to wipe between my legs.
My hands were steady and my mind blan
k. I couldn’t think about it. It just . . . was. Maybe Jace was right. It was my fault he did this to me. But I couldn’t understand why, if he said he loved me, why he’d hurt me? Would he ever stop? Or would this be my life from now on?
At that thought, I started to shake. I had to get out of there. Logan. I needed Logan.
I dressed again and shoved my feet into my tennis shoes; my only thought was Logan. I had to get to Logan.
LoganLoganLogan . . .
“Shhh.”
I woke to confusion, the few seconds of not knowing where I was before memory returned.
Devon was holding me, holding me much more tightly than when we’d fallen asleep. And he was shushing me.
“What’s the matter?” I asked, easing away slightly. Why had he woken me?
He looked down at me, his expression stark. “You were . . . having a nightmare,” he said finally.
That’s when I realized my cheeks were wet. A flash of a dream, like smoke, flitted through my mind. I’d been dreaming about Jace. I shuddered.
“Sorry about that,” I said. “I don’t usually have the nightmares anymore.” And I didn’t. Worrying about Jace must have brought my past to the forefront of my subconscious.
Devon gently swiped my cheeks, erasing the tracks of my tears. He pressed his lips to mine once. Twice.
“Go back to sleep. I’ve got you.”
The warmth in his voice made me relax and I obediently closed my eyes. This time when I slept, there were no nightmares waiting for me.
With room service for breakfast came clothes for me to wear. I didn’t question how Devon had gotten the hotel to acquire them; I just put them on. The pair of black slacks and crimson cashmere sweater fit perfectly and didn’t look too odd with my black heels.
Devon was knotting his tie when I finished pinning my hair back up. I carefully packed the dress I’d worn last night into a plastic laundry bag to take with me.