Share Me_The Devil Makes Three

by Evelyn Vox

  Table of Contents

  Part One: Resistance

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Part Two: Surrender

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Chapter Thirty

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  Share Me: The Devil Makes Three

  Evelyn Vox

  A Club Midnight Novel

  You and me and the Devil makes three.

  -Emmylou Harris

  Contents

  1. Part One: Resistance

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  12. Part Two: Surrender

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  37. August

  Acknowledgments

  Sneak Preview

  Buy Me: Unmasked

  About the Author

  One

  Part One: Resistance

  DEREK

  It was five to noon when I rolled up to the mansion in my pick-up. I'd driven for a few minutes down the long, manicured driveway until I finally got to the circular car park outside the front door. I got out and took stock of the house.

  The first things I noticed were the traditional Hampton's brown shingles and white wood. I decided then and there that if this rich bitch wanted me to strip them, I wouldn't work with her. My boots hit gravel that was likely more expensive than most people's rent--perfectly smooth white stones, not the average misshapen, cement colored rocks you see in the real world.

  I walked up the steps to the front door, looked at my watch and, at noon, not a second sooner or later, I rang the doorbell. I waited to hear the sound of high heels clicking on the floor (these prissy housewives always wore high heels), but there was only silence.

  Anger coursed through me as I rang the bell again. I was not the kind of man who rang twice. My hands balled into fists when the door remained unanswered. The only sign of life in the place was the faint sound of yapping dogs. It was now five-past noon. There were few things I hated more in this world than entitled people who thought their time was more valuable than mine.

  I was about to write this woman off, but something niggled at me when I looked at the green grass of the property. Call it professional curiosity, but I wanted to see what I'd be turning down. I walked a perimeter around the house, taking note of the craftsmanship and looking for signs of wear or neglect.

  I walked towards the rear of the property where trees edged the sprawling lawn. Ahead, a pale brick wall with cast iron gates encircled the back of the house. Getting closer, I saw the bright blue of a swimming pool beyond the wall. I was about to turn back when I heard a feminine sneeze and anger froze me to the spot.

  So, she was out here by the pool. I had taken time out of my schedule to drive my ass up here and she had the gall to miss our appointment because she was fucking sunning herself? Fury surged hot in me and I stomped right up to the gates. I was going to rip this rich bitch a new one.

  The beast roared to life inside of me with such force that I stopped dead in my tracks.

  Mine.

  She was lying naked on a day bed by the pool. Her long, golden limbs were soaking up the rays, making her look like a sun-kissed goddess. Her arms were crossed behind her head, lifting her breasts into perfect cuppable mounds. They were big, pert, and crowned with rosebud pink nipples that I wanted to pinch.

  My eyes drifted down the flat, toned stomach to the smooth, bare folds of her pussy. Her muscular, lean legs were spread wide, and her cunt looked like a ripe fruit ready to be eaten. My groin tightened and my cock hardened like a lead pipe between my legs for the goddess before me. The beast was in a frenzy.

  Claim her!

  I had only a moment to take her all in before the high-pitched racket of two runty dogs assaulted my ears and the goddess was startled. The dogs rushed to the gate and when she saw me, she jumped, making those gorgeous breasts jiggle. She was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. My erection bulged against the zipper of my pants, begging to be unleashed on this woman. Fuck, I wanted her.

  "SHIT," she shrieked as she scrambled for something to cover her.

  I committed the unbelievable sight of her to memory before I turned away to give her privacy. I took the opportunity to adjust myself, so she wouldn't see how fucking hard just looking at her had made me.

  "What the fuck do you think you're doing?" She yelled at me.

  She had quite the mouth on her. I turned to see she had her hands on her hips and was covered in a white kaftan. The fabric was still very sheer, and I knew that if I looked closely, I'd be able to make out those perfect tits through the fabric. My dick twitched and I had to stifle a groan. Her strawberry blond hair glistened gold in the sunlight as she stood far from the gate, clearly afraid to open it.

  "I'm Derek Drake," I told her, "we had an appointment at noon."

  I couldn't help but smirk as her demeanor changed in an instant. Her body slumped and her plump lips formed a perfect circle of shock. She rushed over to me.

  "Oh my god," she said in a breathless voice as she unlatched the gate and swung it wide, "Emma told me you were coming at two!"

  Emma York was the rich socialite who referred this client to me. I renovated that vapid woman's kitchen months ago. She was so busy drooling over me that I could barely stand to be around her. It didn't shock me that she confused the times--she hadn't seemed like the sharpest tool in the shed.

  "I see," I told her, making my voice cold to mask the lust raging through me, "Emma told me noon."

  The two dogs crowded at my feet with heavy, labored breathing. She shooed them away before locking the gate behind us.

  "I am so sorry," she effused, "please, come inside and make yourself at home."

  She walked me towards her French glass doors lined with white wood, and from the way she was fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve, I could tell she was nervous, and the beast loved it. Good. She was wise to be nervous around me. We walked through the doors into a dark red room with gold wallpaper li
ning the floor and ceiling where crown molding should have been.

  I arched an eyebrow at her. She removed her sunglasses to reveal sea-green eyes rimmed with thick lashes. Breathtaking.

  "I know," she said with a withering gesture to the wallpaper, "please, make yourself comfortable. I won't be a minute."

  Through the kaftan, I caught a glimpse of her round, juicy ass that I wanted to sink my teeth into, before she disappeared around a corner, leaving me with her two runty dogs. I sat on the plush white sofa as they looked up at me with their big eyes and squishy faces, eager for my approval.

  Normally, I'd be disgusted by the inside of this house, my mind whirring to all the work we would do in here to strip it. But I could only think about stripping that woman bare. I couldn't stop seeing her perfect body in my mind. I wanted to know what she tasted like.

  I wanted to know how it would feel to take my fill of a goddess like her. I'd been with beautiful women before, had more than my share of them writhing beneath me, but I'd never had a reaction this strong before. There was something about her. She was Venus incarnate.

  The desire to dominate her, to show this rich, spoiled princess who had the real power here, still had my cock harder than a rock between my legs.

  The beast wanted her. And what the beast wanted, the beast got. There was no denying it. I took a few deep breaths to calm myself and will my raging boner into submission. This woman was trouble.

  Chapter Two

  LEXIE

  Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck!

  I blew it. There was no way in hell he would take the house on now. No way Mr. Exclusive-Contractor would ever work with the blond bimbo he found naked by the pool! I was going to kill Emma. I punched out a text to her as I threw on a maxi dress. I was in such a rush, I didn't even bother to find a bra and panties.

  Em! You told me he'd be here at 2, not 12!

  I slipped on some sandals before I looked in the mirror. I wasn't wearing any make-up and my hair was a windswept, sweaty mess. Great. My phone lit up and I read Emma's response:

  Really? He definitely said noon. Too much wine, sorry! Is he there now?

  I rolled my eyes and recalled the several glasses of Chardonnay she downed when we met for brunch yesterday. When she'd told me all about the infamous contractor, I just had to have work on the house.

  "Derek Drake," Emma said his name like she was dropping a bomb. She was stunned when I didn't recognize it.

  "Alliteration much," I'd scoffed instead.

  "He's just a bit much in general like that, Lexie."

  "What do you mean?"

  "He's one of those dark brooding types. Doesn't say much and doesn't put up with shit from anyone. He's a little menacing."

  "How on Earth does he have a contracting business then?"

  "He's a genius," she told me with complete confidence, "his work is amazing enough that people forgive his less than friendly exterior. I can't believe you've never heard of him. Seriously, he's in all the magazines."

  I'd just shrugged and watched as she poured herself a third glass of wine.

  "His looks don't hurt," she added with a wink.

  "What do you mean?"

  She laughed then.

  "You'll see when you meet him. The words tall, dark, and handsome don't even cut it. He's a sex god."

  "Great," I joked, "so how do I get in touch with him?"

  "He's very exclusive," she said in a hushed tone, leaning in close like she was telling me a priceless secret, "works by referral only. I'll set up a meeting with the two of you, and if he feels like your vision aligns with his, he'll accept."

  She'd texted him right then and there. By the end of brunch, she had arranged for us to meet today at two. Not noon!

  I groaned in frustration as I shot her a reply before dragging a brush through my tangled locks.

  I was sunbathing NAKED by the pool when he poked his head over the gate!

  Her response was instantaneous:

  OH MY GOD

  I locked my phone, only to see a flood of texts from Emma that I ignored as I failed to detangle my mane of hair. All I could do was sweep it up into a messy bun. I grabbed my phone and rushed back downstairs. He seemed really pissed. I didn't want to keep him waiting any longer than I had to.

  At the foot of the steps, I took a moment to compose myself. He was still here. He'd have left if he was done with me, right? It couldn't be a total lost cause. I just had to turn on the Lexie Hale charm, bat my eyelashes a bit, and he'd agree. I could swing this.

  I walked into the living room where I left him and stifled a giggle as Coco and Donatella, my black and yellow French Bulldogs, were hounding him to play with them. They had placed almost every toy they owned at his feet, but he was ignoring them. Coco was whining up at him in a bid for his attention.

  "Not a dog person?" I asked, making my way towards him.

  I took a seat in an armchair to his right, a wooden coffee table separating us. And when I looked at him, really taking him in for the first time, I was grateful for the distance that the coffee table gave us. I could see what Emma meant when she said tall, dark, and handsome don’t even cut it.

  Because this man really was a sex god.

  Derek Drake may have been the sexiest man I'd ever seen. It was an effort not to stare. Masculine, dominant energy rippled off of him in waves that made me want to swoon. I eyed the curve of his large biceps and the glimpse of his hard chest beneath the first few open buttons of his flannel.

  "I like real dogs," he said, his eyes fixing on me with an intensity that made it hard to breathe.

  He had to be well over six-feet. His presence was huge and imposing, and his ability to take up space, physically, was extreme. It was like being in a room with a giant predator. A chiseled jaw was shadowed with dark scruff to match his shaggy black hair. He looked up at me with cool, crystal gray eyes that popped out against his dark features.

  "Real dogs?"

  I admired the cut of his high, defined cheekbones and skin that was tanned from working out in the sun. He was definitely the sexiest man I'd ever seen.

  "I have a German Shepard," he told me, never looking away, "he could eat your dogs for lunch."

  "Well," I quipped back, "let's hope he never meets my babies."

  I tossed a ball across the room and they bounded after it. I gazed fondly at their cute little bottoms waggling as they ran.

  "Will they be bothering us this entire meeting? We've already wasted enough time as it is," he said with his full lips curled into a mean sneer, that gaze still boring into me.

  I was a little thrown by his tone. What an asshole. Now I understood what Emma meant when she said he was less than friendly. Extremely frank and intimidating would have been a more accurate description.

  "No," I managed to say, trying to sound confident, but failing, "they'll play with themselves now that I've thrown the ball.”

  He kept staring at me in a way that made me feel more naked now than I did before. My skin heated under his scorching gaze and I felt a flush creeping onto my face. What was going on with me? Was he this intense with everyone?

  "I am sorry for that misunderstanding earlier," I offered. Even though it wasn't really my fault, I was desperate to release some of the tension that was filling the room. "I hope it won't affect your decision today."

  He merely quirked an eyebrow at me and said, "That remains to be seen, Mrs. Hale."

  And just like that, the tension in the room soared to new heights. I fidgeted in my seat.

  "You can call me Lexie," I told him.

  "I thought your name was Alexandra Hale."

  "Well, it is, but everyone calls me Lexie."

  "I see," he said, shifting his weight forward over his massive legs, "what do you want from me, Alexandra?"

  I want you to jump over here and fuck me senseless.

  The thought came to me out of nowhere, and I flushed again, suddenly certain he could read minds. It didn't escape my attention that he wo
uldn't call me Lexie, either.

  "What do I want from you?" I repeated back in a daze.

  His eyes raked over me, following the flush down my neck, and my nipples hardened under his gaze. Shit, I should have put on a bra! There was no way he couldn't see them pebbled and firm under the thin fabric of my dress. His eyes narrowed, not even trying to hide the fact that he was looking at my tits. Slowly, so slowly, he drew his gaze back up to my face.

  "For this house," he said.

  His eyes flicked back and lingered on my perked nipples. A muscle twitched in his jaw. He looked so pissed off. I couldn't tell if he wanted to fuck me or throttle me, but he definitely wanted to do something to me.

  The room felt like it was about to combust. The energy between us burned searing hot, and I wished I had a drink, if only to have something to do with my hands. Instead, I fumbled with the tassels of a throw pillow beside me. I fought the urge to hold it in my lap like a shield against his intensity.

  "Oh right," I said.

  Get it together, Lexie! He almost looked like he was in pain, like he was restraining himself from eating a delicious dessert.

  "Well, as you can see," I gestured at the red room, "the carpet doesn’t really match the drapes."

  "Excuse me?"

  How did that even come out of my mouth? Off to a great start, Lexie, you're buck naked when he comes by and then you make a joke commonly used to reference pubic hair.

  This was why I shouldn't try to be funny.

  I couldn't help it, though. He was making me nervous and, when I got nervous, I babbled. So much for putting on the charm. This was turning into a complete disaster. His relentless staring didn't help! I took a slow breath in an attempt to calm myself before I continued.