Make Me Scream

by P. J. Mellor

  After struggling a few seconds with the door, she swung it open.

  Devon stood smiling at her, a clear plastic container of strawberries in one hand and what looked like a cake box in the other.

  “Hi! I’m up.” She sniffed at the box, which definitely held some kind of cake, and tried not to look at what else was obviously up.

  “Thought maybe we’d have a bedtime snack.” He walked past her to set the boxes on the table and then came back to plant a smacking kiss on her forehead before shutting the door. “I brought angel-food-and-strawberry surprise.”

  “What’s the surprise about angel food and strawberries?” She watched him slice the cake and place it on mismatched plates from the kitchen and then spoon the strawberries on top.

  What could only be described as a devilish grin flashed her way, his eyes sparkling.

  He reached for the hem of her nightshirt. “Ah-ah-ah. We wouldn’t want to get your nice, clean shirt sticky and dirty.”

  “Wait!” She clutched her shirt to her chest and dove for the lights. “Let’s light candles.” At his look of confusion, she hurried on. “It’s much more romantic and also saves money on the power bill.” Lame, so lame.

  But by the look on his face when she returned from lighting a few candles, he didn’t seem to notice.

  With a flourish, he grasped the hem of her shirt and drew it up and over her head and then tossed it onto the couch. He waggled his eyebrows. “I’ve got whipped cream, but you have to get naked if you want any.”

  Ever since catching sight of his erection as he walked in her door, she’d been wanting to be naked, so it was no hardship.

  Hooking her fingers in the string sides of her thong, she shimmied out of her panties and tossed them aside.

  “Your turn,” she said in a voice turned husky with desire.

  His grin could only be described as weird. He made a big production of unzipping his pants.

  The tip of his erection was the darkest purple she’d ever seen.

  She frowned, but before she could comment, he pulled it out—and off!

  “Check it out,” he said with an eagerness that was contagious. “First you push up on the balls, like this, while you squeeze, and voilà!”

  Streams of what she hoped was whipped cream spurted from the end of the phallus, forming a frothy pile to cover the strawberries.

  Her shrieks of laughter bounced from the old walls, along with his deeper, rumbling chuckles.

  Gradually their laughter subsided, replaced by an awareness that heated the room, altering their breathing.

  “This,” he said, indicating the purple penis, “is from the new kitchen gadget line. It’s, um, not for internal use.”

  “Good to know.” She stood looking into his eyes and wondered if she was going to have to make the first move. Assuming any move was made.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he whispered.

  “And you,” she said, stepping close to tug his shirt from his waistband, “are way overdressed.” She pulled his shirt over his head and let it drop.

  His hand on hers stopped the descent of his pants. “If I take these off, it will be over too soon.” He brought her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles, pulling her toward the table. “Climb up.” He removed the plates of cake and helped her stretch out on the cool tabletop. “Let’s play.”

  He shook the dildo, little droplets of whipped cream flying to spatter her face, eliciting a fresh burst of giggles.

  He silenced her with a kiss, dragging his teeth on her lower lip before straightening. “Don’t laugh, woman. I’m creating a masterpiece.”

  Amid lots of squirming and giggling, he managed to finally write his name, in whipped cream, across her flat, tanned tummy.

  Taking a plump strawberry, he bit off the tip, allowing the juice to trickle across her breast and down her rib cage. With the piece of fruit, he followed the lines of his name, applying pressure to ensure the juice escaped, coating her torso in its sticky sweetness.

  He drew happy faces around each breast, topping the puckered nipples with a dollop of cream, and then licked them clean.

  “Devon,” she breathed his name with a hitch in her voice, causing his breath to lodge in his chest for a moment.

  No one had ever called his name during sex or any act of passion.

  “Shhh,” he said, shucking his pants and climbing up beside her, hoping the old table would hold their combined weight. “Let’s play nice and get you all cleaned up.”

  His tongue followed the flowing script of whipped cream and strawberry juice, lapping at the combined sweetness of the concoction and her skin.

  Beneath his steadying hand, Jamie squirmed, the heat of his palm filling her with a different kind of warmth.

  Their breathing sounded unnaturally loud in the quiet apartment.

  She reached for him.

  The spell was broken as the sound of shattering glass echoed from the walls.

  18

  Jamie’s shriek immediately followed. What looked suspiciously like one of the bricks from the landscaping border lay amid the shards of glass in the living room floor.

  Jackknifing to a sitting position, she scrambled for her nightshirt.

  Devon rolled from the table. “What the hell?” He headed for the door.

  “Devon!” Jamie, now on her feet, grabbed his boxers, waving them in his direction. “You’re naked!”

  Relief washed through him. He wasn’t really a coward. As a sensible, educated adult, giving chase wasn’t the thing to do. Yet he’d felt compelled to do so. Thankfully, Jamie’s voice called a halt to his faulty line of thinking.

  Watching his step in the candlelight, he walked back and took his boxers, stepping into them while he observed Jamie’s expression.

  Clearly upset, she looked at him expectantly.

  He heaved an inward sigh. Of course she was looking expectant. He was the guy. Guys did stuff like rescue damsels in distress, slay dragons, charge fortresses and all that jazz.

  The problem with that thought was…it wasn’t technically his style. Yeah, that was the problem. He was more of a lover than a fighter.

  Zipping his shorts, he shoved his feet into his flip-flops and headed toward the door. He could do macho, protective male. After all, in the minutes it had taken for him to get dressed, the guilty party had no doubt beat tracks and made a clean getaway. At Jamie’s furrowed brow and her gaze on his feet, he explained, “Don’t want to step on any glass.”

  She nodded, evidently understanding, so he ran for the door. Okay, maybe ran is too strong of a verb. Walked briskly would be more definitive.

  He flipped the locks and looked back. Maybe he puffed his chest a little, but he was risking life and limb. He needed to look buff.

  “Stay here. Lock the door after me.” Good grief, did he really just talk an octave lower? How asinine was that?

  Outside her door, hearing the lock turn, he released his breath, slumping his shoulders. What now?

  Heavy footsteps sounded on the stairs.

  Shit! Maybe he should have waited to come out until he put on a shirt. It would have given the thrower more time to get away.

  Todd rounded the corner, coming to an abrupt halt in front of Devon.

  “Did I hear glass breaking?” Todd looked around and zeroed in on the jagged remains of Jamie’s window. “Is Jamie okay? I thought I heard her scream.”

  Devon stepped in front of Todd, blocking his path to Jamie’s door. “She’s fine.” He glanced at Todd’s smooth, well-developed chest and wished again he’d pulled on his shirt before coming out of the apartment. “Someone tossed a brick through her front window and then took off.”

  “Did she see who did it?” Todd took a step back, looking down the corridor between buildings. “Did anyone see which way he went? Maybe we can still catch up.”

  “Good idea!” He nudged Todd in the direction of the side parking lot. “You go that way and let me know if you see anyone. I’ll check the other sid
e of the complex.”

  It almost worked. Todd even took a step. Then Jamie opened her door, looking hot and adorable, her robe tied tightly over her nightshirt.

  “Did you see him?” she asked in a small voice.

  “No. He was gone by the time I got out here.” Devon ran his hand through his hair and tried to be concerned more for Jamie than for the hot sex that would not happen.

  “I just asked Dev if you saw anything.” Todd stepped closer to Jamie, causing Devon’s molars to ache. “Do you have any idea who would do this?”

  Jamie’s gaze found Devon’s and held a second or two before she answered. “No, not really. I was, um, busy.”

  Evidently satisfied with her answer, Todd turned and said, “I’ll go this way and check the laundry room and pool area while I’m over there. You go back toward your place and check the front visitor parking lot. You may also want to take a look down the boardwalk, in case he’s lurking around there.”

  Devon nodded and started across the courtyard. Damn, he hoped whoever did it was long gone. He really, really didn’t like physical confrontation. Mainly because he had a low pain threshold, which was also embarrassing.

  “Be careful!” Jamie’s voice echoed in the courtyard.

  He grinned, feeling his chest expand. With Jamie, he felt brave, invincible.

  “Not to worry,” came Todd’s deep reply before Devon could open his mouth.

  Add stupid to the list of how he felt.

  A cursory look around the complex and parking lots failed to yield anything. Thankfully.

  He and Todd arrived at Jamie’s door about the same time.

  She opened the door, fully dressed now, before either of them could knock.

  “You okay?” Todd asked, once again beating Devon to it.

  She nodded. “I thought I’d go see about buying something to board up the window.” She shivered, and Devon felt it in his groin.

  “Hey, it’s not your responsibility. It’s the complex’s problem. Right, Dev?”

  Damn. Todd was right. He hated when that happened.

  “Tell you what,” Todd continued, clapping Devon on the back. “I’ve still got a while before I have to be at work. I’ll run upstairs and get my toolbox while you go pick up some plywood at the hardware store. We’ll meet back here and board up her window before I leave.” Devon tried not to wince when Todd clutched his trapezoid in a viselike grip. “Sound like a plan?”

  “Y-yes,” he squeaked and then cleared his throat. “I mean, right. Yeah. Good plan.” An escape route dawned. “But I can’t haul much with my Mustang. And even if I could, I don’t have any way to cut the plywood. It was a good plan, though. Other than that.” He bent his neck and shook his head in what he hoped was an appropriate amount of disappointment. “Damn.” Okay, maybe he carried it a bit far, but it was in direct proportion to his relief. Woodworking, hammering and such weren’t exactly his thing either.

  “No problem, we can take my truck,” Todd boomed right next to his ear. “I have some power tools in the back. I’m sure I have a saw and a nail gun.”

  “Oh, I don’t want to put you out, make you late for work or anything. I’m sure I can manage.” Inspiration struck. “If not, Jamie can always bunk at my place tonight until I get the window fixed.”

  “It’s no trouble.” Todd’s teeth flashed white in the darkness. “Matter of fact, here.” He dug in the pockets of jeans Devon would have sworn were painted on. “Take my key and stay at my place.” He tossed Jamie the key he removed from a key ring.

  Where the hell did the key ring come from? There wasn’t even enough room for pockets.

  “Oh, I really couldn’t…” Jamie began, shaking her head.

  “Of course you can! The maid just came today, so it’s clean. Fresh sheets on the bed and everything. I won’t be home until early tomorrow morning, maybe later.”

  Todd had a maid? Devon frowned at the dancer’s retreating back. Maybe he should take up exotic dancing. He looked at Todd’s tight butt and broad back and winced. Maybe not. Just getting in shape for it would probably kill him.

  19

  “That should do it,” Todd’s voice boomed in Devon’s good ear, the other ear being temporarily—he hoped—deafened by the high-pitched whine of the power saw Todd had used to deftly cut the plywood he and Devon had bought at the hardware store.

  “I’ll come back and patch the nail holes tomorrow morning.” Todd cast a reproachful look at Devon.

  “Hey,” Devon protested, “I’ve never used a nail gun before. How was I to know how fast it shot the nails?”

  Todd grinned and said in a low, conspiratorial voice, “That’s okay. It was worth it to hear you scream like a girl when they went flying into the walls.”

  “I. Did. Not. Scream.” He unclenched his jaw and shrugged. “I was just surprised, that’s all.” He glanced toward the bedroom where Jamie was packing a bag. “I’m just glad no one got hurt.”

  Todd grinned and winked. “There you go.” He raised his voice. “Jamie? I’m taking off. There’s beer and soda in the fridge and plenty of food. Make yourself at home.” He gave a two-fingered salute and clicked his tongue. “See you, sport.”

  With that, he left.

  Devon stood in the quiet living room listening to the silence. The boarded-up window muffled all sound from the courtyard.

  “Did Todd leave already?” Jamie stood in the doorway, a small duffel bag in her right hand, the other gripping the back of the kitchen chair.

  “Yeah,” he said, walking to pry her hand from the aged vinyl. “He said he’d see you tomorrow.”

  Her gaze zeroed in on the plywood. “Thanks for boarding up my window. I’m probably perfectly safe to just stay here tonight.”

  “But you have three other windows.” He shook his head. “I filed a police report before I called the insurance company, but I don’t think staying here would be a smart thing to do, considering what happened tonight.” Her skin felt warm and smooth beneath his fingertip when he tilted her chin to look into her eyes. “Unless you want to reconsider staying at Todd’s and come home with me? Talk Dirty To Me just sent a whole new box of toys. You could be my research assistant,” he said with a smile and a wink.

  Lowering her mouth to his fingertip, she swirled her tongue around it and then placed a gentle kiss on the end. “I think it’s probably a better idea to just stay at Todd’s tonight.” A step brought her breasts against him. A tug on his shirt lowered his mouth for a light kiss. “It’s safer this way.” Kiss. “Not as much temptation,” she whispered against his lips before his mouth took hers.

  He deepened the kiss, doing a full-body grind against her she returned with equal enthusiasm. But she was right. Sleeping together would not be the smart or safe thing to do at the moment. Besides, he’d never had a woman spend the night in his bed, and he wasn’t entirely comfortable with the idea now. Not yet, anyway. But the idea had a certain appeal, he conceded when she did a little shimmy against him. Mr. Happy was definitely up for it.

  Reluctantly he broke the kiss and took a step back. “I guess you’re right. It’s better this way. C’mon. I’ll walk you up to Todd’s. Make sure you’re tucked in safe and sound for the night.”

  She slipped her hand in his and followed him out of the apartment.

  Todd’s place, being a second-floor unit, had a study in addition to a bedroom. Relief washed over Devon when he saw the twin-size sofa bed made up in the little room in anticipation of Jamie’s visit. Not that he didn’t trust Todd…well, you get the picture.

  “Wow.” Jamie’s eyes were wide as she took in the apartment that resembled the others only in the fact that it was in the same complex and had the same basic floor plan. “It looks professionally decorated.” She ran her hand over the gleaming entry table next to the door, walking her fingers over three marble-looking balls in a big silvery shallow bowl resting on top.

  Devon’s crotch tightened, watching her fingers trace the veins in the shining balls. Why
couldn’t she just leave the damned balls alone?

  “Look at the sofa!” She walked over to the deep red, overstuffed cushions and stroked the soft-looking fabric, tested the cushions with her fingertips.

  “I think Todd plans for you to sleep in here,” he said, almost jerking her away from the opulent furnishings. “It probably sleeps like a torture rack, but beggars can’t be choosers, right?”

  Dropping her duffel, she kicked off her sandals and crawled onto the suspiciously plush-looking mattress.

  In his mind, she was naked, her pert little ass taunting him, making him twitch, ready to pounce on her. She rolled to her back. His mind saw her naked breasts jutting toward the ceiling. His mouth salivated.

  “Devon? Are you okay?”

  He blinked, and she was once again fully clothed. Damn.

  “Hmmm? Oh, yeah. Fine. Just tired, I guess.” He glanced around the luxurious apartment, refusing to make comparisons. “If you don’t need anything else, I guess I’ll go on home and start writing the descriptions for the new line before I fall asleep.”

  Propped up on one elbow, she rested her head in her hand. “How’s the book coming along?”

  “It’s not. I’m sort of stuck right now. Plus, I have quite a bit of work to do for all the companies. Then there’s managing this place.” He shrugged.

  “I’d be happy to read for you, maybe do a little brainstorming, if you’d like.”

  “Thanks. I may take you up on that. But not right now.” He walked to the door. “Make sure you lock up.” The door was almost closed before he poked his head back in. “Would you like to have breakfast with me in the morning?” At her nod, he said, “About eight? Great. See you then.”

  “What the hell’s going on?” Francyne stepped from the shadows.

  Devon jumped and barely swallowed his surprised yelp. “Do you have to skulk in the shadows like that?”

  “Who’s skulking? Petunia was helping fertilize the bushes. So. What happened here?” She gestured toward the boarded window and then fell into step with him.