A Date with Desire

by Heather McGovern

Her body ignited at the hard, fast friction.

  She pushed the back of her head against the door, and let out a low, earthy moan. “God, Dev. Yes . . . that’s . . . yes.”

  Where had that come from? Her voice didn’t sound like her own. Indelicate and needy, and she didn’t even care.

  With both hands, she clung to him, trying to keep her grip on his shoulders. But then one hand was in his hair. The thick, dark strands like velvet between her fingers.

  She pulled him down to kiss her, needing him everywhere. Less a kiss and more a brief sweep of lips and them breathing each other’s air.

  “I told you . . .” Dev panted for breath. “I told you I’d have you against a wall. Just like you wanted.”

  This was everything she’d imagined and more. Every part of her was alive and hot, burning like a wildfire, and equally unpredictable.

  Another moan fell from her lips as Dev nipped at her neck. She reached out for something, without knowing what, her hand grabbing at empty air until she planted it above her head, against the door behind her.

  The world spun. Devlin murmuring praise, his breathing growing choppy as she pushed back against him. The world faded, white noise filling her head, and she felt only the points where they connected.

  His lips brushing the shell of her ear as he spoke, his strong thighs beneath her, his hands all over. “I want to go harder. Think you can take it?”

  Yes. Her body screamed.

  She wanted to come again with him deep inside her. Feel him for days after. Have the print of his fingers on each cheek. Never be able to look at him or a garage again without blushing. All of it. Now.

  “Yes. Harder.” The words flew from her lips.

  He leaned forward, holding her and pressing his head against hers. He thrust into her, harder and faster, stealing the breath from her lungs. Robbing her of words.

  But she loved the way he looked at her, as though he couldn’t get enough. The way he went after her, like he’d die if he didn’t have her, and held her like he never wanted to let her go.

  Her climax struck, not a slow crescendo but a crashing cymbal. The air knocked from her lungs. For a brief moment, she knew nothing but the pleasure coursing through her body.

  Dev followed, his body tightening beneath her right before he pulsed inside her.

  Orgasms racked their bodies and she felt him shiver and shake with her, before she floated off, weightless.

  She landed, minutes later, and somehow he’d moved them toward a wooden table with benches. He sat beside her; leaned back with both arms flopped wide on the table, panting for breath.

  His jeans were pulled up, sort of, and her panties were . . . somewhere.

  Words failed to come out when she opened her mouth, so she leaned back into him, her head on his arm as they stared at the ceiling.

  “How . . . ?” Forget it. She wasn’t even going to ask how they made it the five feet from the door without her realizing.

  She could barely feel her extremities. Anything was possible.

  Later, Dev spoke, still staring up at the ceiling. “This was not my surprise. But I like your idea a hell of a lot better.”

  She giggled.

  “My surprise was—”

  Before he could finish, she bolted upright and half fell on him to cover his mouth with her hand. “Don’t tell me.”

  He smiled beneath her hand, his question tickling. “Why?”

  “Because I still want to be surprised.”

  “Then we better hurry or we’ll miss it.”

  Her curiosity piqued, she dropped her hand to grab his. “You have to help me find my underwear first. Wherever you flung them.”

  His chuckle was deep, satisfied, and too smug by half. “Yes, I did fling them.”

  She stood, trying to pull him up, but he tugged her back down to sit on his lap.

  “And I’m not sorry.” He grinned up at her, his gaze tracing her features with what she could only call tenderness. Affection.

  He brushed her hair to one side. Even when he didn’t say much, his connection was there, in his touch. Mesmerizing.

  “I’m not sorry either.”

  Their gazes locked and he didn’t try to hide the way he was looking at her.

  He leaned up and kissed her. “You’re so beautiful.”

  She fought the sting in her eyes, because she felt beautiful, and he wasn’t talking about her looks. Devlin saw the outside and found her desirable, and he knew the knotted, messed up girl inside, and still looked at her this way.

  Like she was more than enough. She was perfect.

  Chapter 21

  They finally made it out of the garage, and he prayed he still had enough wits about him to ride his bike.

  Holy hell, he hadn’t expected that when he said the word “surprise,” but the two of them in that garage was about the best surprise of his life.

  The way Anna had rubbed herself against him, hot and wet and—

  Nope. If he thought about it too hard, he’d end up . . . too hard. Again.

  He couldn’t get enough of her, and having her up against the door, experiencing her reaction and need, wanting him faster and harder, the same way he’d wanted her—It all quenched nothing. If anything, he thirsted for more.

  Once he grabbed his helmet and got settled on his bike, he patted the seat behind him for Anna to get on.

  She tucked the flowy skirt of her dress between her legs—they’d eventually found her underwear, unfortunately—and climbed on.

  With his free hand, he reached back, feeling for her bare leg. Hers wasn’t the safest riding gear, but they were only going two miles away. He slid his hand over smooth skin. “You on okay?”

  She leaned forward, shifting in the seat and pressing her breasts against his back. “Are you?”

  “I think so, yeah.”

  She held him near his waist, palms flattened low, near the pocket of his jeans. Felt great, but her hold would do shit to help her balance in the turns.

  “You need to hold on higher up, with your hands clasped together.”

  She moved her hands higher, clutching at his chest and giving his pecs a squeeze. Effectively copping a feel.

  “I have to keep this bike upright and on the road. Are you going to behave?”

  Anna placed her chin on his shoulder. “Are you?”

  Good point. “Okay, here’s the deal. We both have to behave, so long as the bike is running. After that, it’s whatever, but bike is moving, we’re behaving. Deal?”

  With a nod, she put her helmet on and buckled it. “Deal.”

  They wound around the road at a leisurely pace. He wouldn’t open the bike up and risk it, but some other day he would.

  He’d get Anna dressed properly for riding and take her somewhere for the day. Away. The two of them. Her arms around him, miles of road before them. Endless possibilities.

  Once he got this festival planned and the work done, he’d have plenty of free time to make her vacation the best she’d ever had.

  Then he remembered.

  She wouldn’t be here when that day came.

  All vacations had to come to an end. Picturing the resort’s calendar in his mind, he tried to remember the exact day of her checkout. She’d booked the cabin for two-and-a-half weeks. She’d been here at least a week and a half, which gave them a week.

  That couldn’t be right.

  The day he kissed her on the street, he remembered thinking she had so much time at Honeywilde. The perfect stretch of days for a fun summer fling, except what they had didn’t feel like a fling anymore.

  And it never really had.

  The issue wasn’t the time left in Anna’s stay, because no amount of time would be enough. If she stayed another month, and then left, it’d still be too soon.

  But what could he say? Don’t go? Don’t go back to your life in Atlanta? Stay on vacation forever?

  Dev tightened his grip on the bike’s handlebars, trying to focus on the turn down the dirt service
road.

  He couldn’t ask her to give up the life she’d worked so hard for, the condo, the job that she used to love and would love again now that she’d had a break.

  For the last three years, he’d fought for the accomplishments and kind of success Anna had. Independence. Being the best at her job. What kind of guy would suggest she turn her back on all of that to . . . what? Help him finish planning the Blueberry Festival?

  No. He wouldn’t be that greedy.

  But he would make her last week at Honeywilde count. Rides on his bike, and the dozen other things he wanted to show her, couldn’t wait. He’d have to squeeze them in amid the festival planning and chaos.

  Not one clue how he’d manage, but he would.

  If he didn’t take joy out of every last minute he had with her, he’d regret it for the rest of his life.

  He already had enough regrets, thank you very much. Anna would not be among them.

  The dirt road narrowed and washed out, and Dev brought the bike to a stop, kicking out the stand and killing the engine.

  Slowly, Anna let go of him, her hands wandering, taking the long way off. “I could stand to ride a lot farther.”

  So could he. “We will. One day we’ll dress for endurance and go for a long ride, but right now we have to move if we’re going to make it. We’re on foot from here on out, but it’s not far.”

  “I’m intrigued.” She put her hand in his and let him lead the way down the crooked path.

  “What about your bike?”

  “The bike is fine. People don’t come all the way up here to steal bikes.”

  He stepped off the path, following the rough opening of those who’d cut through before.

  “People come up here, for this.” Dev pushed a tree branch wide, letting Anna through and out onto the rock outcropping.

  “What is—Oh my god.” She passed him, her feet carrying her forward.

  Anna stopped far shy of the edge, staring at the view of the town below and the range of mountains beyond. “Is that Windamere down there?”

  “The one and only. We can go on out to the edge.”

  “No, that’s okay. Here is good.” She remained rooted to the spot.

  He wouldn’t press if she was nervous about heights. Instead he stood right beside her, enjoying the view as much as the first time he saw it.

  Outlook Rock was hidden, off the official maps and off the trail. Only locals knew about the place, mostly frequented by Honeywilde staff, and guests who heard about the unique vista from the staff.

  The rock outcropping was maybe thirty square feet, flat until the very edge, and smooth enough to sit down on for hours without being miserable.

  But what made it truly special was the view and the quiet. Glimpses of the town below and mile after mile of mountains beyond, and with the thick forest all around, a peaceful hush, insulated by trees.

  “We can sit.” Dev took her hand and they eased down to sit on the smooth rock. “Sunset is in fifteen, twenty minutes. I thought we could enjoy it from here.”

  She bumped her shoulder against his, smiling up. “Told you you’re a romantic.”

  “I like sunsets. That’s all.”

  Minutes floated by on the breeze, the temperature dipping with the sun so that Anna scooted a little closer. Dev wrapped his arm around her, holding her close, reveling in the feel of her body against his, occasionally catching the sweet scent of her perfume.

  Maybe he was a little bit romantic.

  He’d never really thought about that part of his personality. Now that he did though, he couldn’t pinpoint a time when he was ever like this. Anna brought that side out in him. He wanted to do nice things for her, give her moments to remember long after she left Honeywilde, and make their limited time special. Significant.

  If that made him a romantic, then sure, he could live with that.

  Anna sighed, laying her hand on his knee. “This is it,” she said. “This is the place I need to bring my father.”

  Dev’s gaze jumped to hers. But her father was—

  “His ashes. I want to bring his ashes here.” She pulled her knees into her chest and looked away, her focus somewhere miles and miles away. “In his will, he stated he wanted his ashes scattered in the Blue Ridge Mountains. Nowhere specific. Just somewhere up here.”

  With her chin on her knees, she closed her eyes. “This is something I’ve needed to do for months, but . . . I couldn’t let go. I wasn’t ready before. The place had to be perfect and nowhere was perfect.” She turned her face to him, eyes shining as the sunlight dimmed. “Until now. Thank you.”

  Unaware of the significance she’d find here, he shrugged off her gratitude. He couldn’t take credit for something he hadn’t intentionally done.

  She nudged him again. “Seriously. Thank you.” She peered up at him like he was wonderful. Like he was some great guy, considerate and kind.

  “You’re welcome,” he muttered.

  Anna stretched her legs out, taking a deep breath, her head held a little higher. “It’s so nice to be back here today, and not with my mother. I know that might be horrible to say, but I don’t care anymore. It’s true. And finding a final place for Dad means she won’t have that to hold over me.”

  Dev scowled. “I was going to ask how your visit went yesterday.”

  “Not good, but that’s nothing new. My mother can’t stand to be around me.”

  “That can’t be true.”

  “Very true, and the feeling is mutual. We don’t—” Anna interlocked her fingers. “You know?”

  “Unfortunately, I do.”

  “My mother and I have been that way as long as I can remember too. But I had my dad, and he was enough. I finally realized that when I went to see her. She’s never going to change, but I’ve changed. I’ve changed a lot, and her words and her actions won’t hurt me unless I let them.”

  So much easier said than done. For years he’d lived with his parents’ preoccupation with their problems, the resentment, turmoil, and complete lack of interest in him. Then he lived with the looks and the whispers, telling himself it didn’t hurt, he didn’t care, but he was never able to make it true.

  “I think we can put up with each other and politely coexist, especially since we both grasp our mutual animosity. Kind of like you and Roark.”

  Dev flinched. “What? No.” That was all wrong. His animosity wasn’t toward his brother. It was his folks, even himself, but he loved his brother. No matter how much he got under Dev’s skin. “Roark and I bicker, but I don’t hate him. We’re not best buddies or anything, but he’s my brother. We’re doing better now.”

  “Oh, sorry. Guess I misunderstood. You don’t really say much about your family, so I wasn’t sure.” Anna glanced away, but not before he caught the pointed look in her eyes. The flash of frustration.

  Dev’s whole life was his family and their resort, but what she said was true. He rarely discussed them beyond the basic, surface facts.

  “You keep mentioning how you’re better now; how your family is better now and . . .” She looked at him expectantly.

  He remained silent and Anna stiffened. She didn’t physically move an inch, but he felt her pulling away all the same.

  The past and the issues with his family were things he played close to the chest, and Anna had noticed.

  Of course she had; she was intelligent, attentive. The longer they were around each other, the more time they spent together, the more obvious his silence and the utter lack of sharing this huge part of himself would become.

  But he didn’t like to talk about his problems, his family’s problems, or the past. He would simply change the subject. Or kiss her. Kissing was good.

  He leaned in and Anna eased away, her expression fixed. “I’ve never talked to anyone about my father.”

  “I know, and it means a lot that you told me.”

  Irritation mixed with the shadow of loss that still lurked over her. Dark eyebrows pulled down, her gaze hard. “Do you?
Do you know? I’ve never spoken to anyone about work or my father or falling apart. No one. Not even my therapist knows everything, but I wanted to tell you.”

  “Thank you, but—”

  “I didn’t tell you because I want your thanks. I told you because I trust you.”

  Her words knocked the air from his lungs.

  Dev tried to breathe, but the weight of what she’d said sat on his chest, pressing down. The air around him closed in, forcing her statement through his guarded mind. Anna wasn’t the kind of person to say something unless she meant it.

  She trusted him.

  “Why?” He shook his head, trying to understand.

  “What do you mean, why? Why wouldn’t I? After all you’ve done for me. Helping me, listening and not judging me. All you’ve done is show me I can trust you.”

  Even after what she heard at the tackle shop? Probably because that wasn’t the half of it. “People who’ve known me a lot longer don’t trust me.”

  “Then that’s their loss. Your sister trusts you. She called you when she was freaking out about the plants.”

  “That’s different.”

  “How?”

  “It just is.” With a useless wave of his hand, he grabbed for a reason why. One that’d make sense.

  Sophie was his little sister. She’d stuck by him, even when he was at his worst. Unconditionally, she had his back. She might’ve been furious with him for months at a time, but through all the bullshit, she still knew the real him. That he’d never wanted to hurt anyone; he was only trying to hurt himself.

  “They trust you, so why can’t I?” Anna persisted.

  “You . . .” Hellfire, this was hard. “You can trust me. I just . . . I wasn’t expecting you to.”

  “And you can trust me. You keep bringing up your family, obviously because they matter, but you won’t talk about them. Then you shut down when I asked you about the thing with Miller and the church.”

  At his continued silence, his refusal to talk reflected on Anna’s face.

  “You can tell me.”

  If he did, she’d never look at him the same. There’d be no way. But he was already hurting her by not opening up, not sharing the ugliest parts of him after she’d shared hers. His silence was a form of rejection. As though somehow he was worthy of listening, being there for her, but she wasn’t worthy in return.