Make Me Scream

by P. J. Mellor

  Devon placed the cookie sheet in the dishwasher and glanced at the clock on the stove when a knock sounded. Running a hand through his shower-damp hair, he made his way to the door, sidestepping a yapping Killer.

  Jamie resisted the urge to throw her arms around Devon when he answered the door. Barely.

  Stepping inside, she took a deep breath. Warm and cozy, his apartment smelled inviting and mouthwatering.

  “Are you baking?” She set her packages by the door and followed him into the kitchen.

  “Yeah, I do that a lot these days.”

  “Oh?” Taking the cookie he offered, she took a bite, forcing her eyes to remain open when the flavors burst on her tongue. “Oh, wow. This is fantastic! It’s the best chocolate-chip cookie I’ve ever tasted. What did you do to the recipe?”

  “Added a couple extra things, used real butter, stuff like that.” He opened and shut the refrigerator. “I was going to offer you a glass of milk to go with that, but I forgot I don’t have any.”

  “I wish I’d known,” she said, reaching for another cookie. “I could have picked some up. Wait. I have a gallon at my apartment. I’ll go get it.”

  “No! I don’t want you going back there until I get the window fixed. The glass place couldn’t get to it until tomorrow.”

  “Devon, I’ll be perfectly safe there. I’m sure it was just some kid making mischief.” She gave a little shudder. “The worst part is I keep wondering if he saw, you know, us. On the table.”

  He brightened. “That reminds me. Check it out.” He pulled another phallus from the fridge, this one green. “I was trying out some of the new shipment and found this. It’s really cool.”

  He removed the lid from a stainless-steel cake plate and grabbed an unfrosted cupcake. Setting the cupcake on the counter, he gripped the base of the green thing, balancing the length on the fingers of his right hand. Green frosting came out of the tip in delicate ruffles.

  He reached for a shaker and sprinkled multicolor sugar sparkles on top. “It’s actually not a bad frosting tube. There are interchangeable tips to make other designs, but I haven’t tried them yet.”

  Their gazes met and held. The kitchen got hotter.

  “Want to play with the various designs? I could use the research.”

  “You mean play with each other and the frosting or play by decorating more cupcakes?”

  He edged closer to her, close enough for her to smell his soapy, clean skin. “Whatever you want….”

  Suddenly she knew what she wanted and it had nothing to do with frosting and everything to do with the sexy man before her.

  21

  Jamie lay panting, sprawled naked on Devon’s bed, and glanced over at her discarded halter top, wondering if her gel blobs were still in the built-in bra and if Devon had noticed the disparity.

  She found that this took too many brain cells. Brain cells that were recently fried by her last full-bodied orgasm.

  Beside her, Devon frowned as he examined the frosting rosette he’d recently created on each of her nipples. “Definitely not my best work.” He sucked one off and reapplied the frosting, his brows drawn in concentration.

  She would have laughed, but it required too much oxygen.

  “I can’t tell if it’s the tip or my technique. Hold still.” He licked the frosting from her right breast and then the left.

  Somewhere along the way, he became sidetracked and began licking and sucking the clean nipple, blowing on the distended tip in a very distracting way.

  “I love your breasts,” he said, his hot breath sending shafts of desire to spear through to her core. “Especially your nipples. They’re so perfect.” He circled each with the tip of his tongue as though to demonstrate. “I love to play with them.” He licked them and then blew lightly. “See how responsive they are? Look how they pucker and get hard.”

  Rallying her strength, she closed her hand around his erection. “Looks like they’re not the only things hard around here.” Had she more oxygen in her deprived brain, she was sure she’d have been scandalized by her aggressive behavior. When had she ever been so brazen?

  His pulse stroked her palm, short-circuiting her train of thought.

  “Are you finished playing with the frosting?”

  “Why? What did you have in mind?” She loved it when his voice was low and sexy like that.

  With her other hand, she grasped the frosting dildo and tossed it across the room, where it bounced against the closed door.

  “What I have in mind does not require gimmicks, aids or batteries.” She smoothly flipped their positions, straddling his lean hips. “I want to screw your brains out. The old-fashioned way.”

  Guiding him to the spot once again eager for his heat, she lowered her hips until she’d taken him fully into her body.

  Their eyes met.

  She brought his hands up to hold her breasts.

  He caressed her rigid nipples with the pads of his thumbs, causing her hips to buck.

  Her moisture made his abdomen slippery. She had to clench her knees to his hips to stay on.

  His hands kneaded her breasts, his hips encouraging her wild ride.

  Higher and higher she went, nothing anchoring her but his hands and his body buried so deeply within hers. Close, so close. Her breath came in short, agonizing gasps. The only sounds in the room were their panting, the soft slap of skin against skin, the subtle answering moan of the springs.

  After moment after agonizing moment of being poised on the brink, she tumbled, free-falling into the abyss of supreme sexual satisfaction.

  Devon’s hips thrust once, twice and held, his grip on her breasts a pleasure/pain. Back arched, he made a guttural sound, his warmth spreading deep within her belly.

  Collapsing on his sweat-slicked chest, she gasped for air, his heartbeat thundering in her ear.

  His hands moved, smoothing, petting every spot he could reach, his fingers outlining the edges of her breasts where they pillowed outward. Never still, they kept moving until, miraculously, the stirrings began again.

  At first it was a small, dull ache between her legs that caused her to squirm a bit. That squirm brought an answering movement from the penis buried deeply within her.

  His caresses became more obvious, firmer, touching certain areas more than others.

  Moisture gathered. Again.

  His mouth took hers in a carnal kiss, telling her without words what he wanted to take, what she wanted to give.

  Devon lay in the dark, watching Jamie put on her clothes. “You don’t have to go, you know. In fact, it’s probably a waste of time. I’ll just follow you and we’ll start all over again. Why not skip the preliminaries and just come back to bed?”

  She walked to the side of the bed and bent to brush his lips in a fleeting kiss. “You’re probably right, but I just think I need to go.”

  “Are you going to spend the night at Todd’s again?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “Hell, yes, it matters!” He propped his head on a wadded-up pillow and did his best to glare at her and not notice the slight flush of stubble burn tingeing the delicate skin of her chest or how his hands all but itched to tear her clothes off and haul her naked body back to his bed where it belonged.

  Wait. Since when did he think she belonged in any way, shape or form to him? That was not the deal.

  With a sigh, he threw back the covers and stood. “Let me grab some clothes and I’ll walk you back to Todd’s.”

  “You don’t have to do that. I—”

  “Yes, damnit, I do! I—”

  A little whimper and a definite scratch on the door stopped him from making a fool of himself.

  “I have to go walk Killer anyway, so it’s no big deal to walk you back.”

  “Oh. Okay.” Cheeks heating, she averted her eyes and made her way to the door. “I need to use the bathroom. Then I’ll wait out there.”

  She leaned against the closed door and sighed, listening to him move around in his r
oom. Of course he would walk her home. He was a gentleman, and besides, he had to take his dog out. It didn’t mean anything.

  Sure, he was a nice guy. A great guy. But he wasn’t interested in her as anything other than a temporary sexual indulgence. She thought she was okay with that, going in. Really, how long would she stick around anyway? Casual sex had never appealed to her, but the idea had had infinite possibilities once she’d met Devon. They would use each other for sex and then go their separate ways. She was cool with that.

  So why did it feel so…disappointing?

  Glum, Jamie shuffled from the bathroom in Todd’s apartment the following morning, feeling only slightly more refreshed after her shower.

  Todd was still mysteriously absent. Jamie snickered as she poured a cup of coffee and picked at a bowl of fruit he’d left on the counter for her. Maybe Todd had gotten lucky.

  Of course, one would say she had, too. But she’d insisted on coming back to sleep alone. On hindsight, not one of her best ideas.

  Thoughts of Devon caused a needy ache between her legs. An ache only he seemed able to appease.

  “Enough,” she said to no one as she loaded her cup and fruit bowl into the dishwasher. If she didn’t see Devon after she went back to her apartment and hung up her clothes, she’d take a walk on the beach. Or go find the pool and refresh her tan. Anything but mope around and miss him.

  The air off the Gulf, as usual for mornings, was brisk. Jamie took an appreciative breath and skipped down the stairs, her key firmly in one hand, the bag of new clothes in the other.

  It was a gorgeous day. Way too nice to hang out indoors. Humming to herself, she rounded the corner of the building to stop dead in her tracks. Her heart stumbled. Her blood ran cold.

  A perfect yellow rose lay on the welcome mat of her apartment.

  22

  “Uh-oh,” Francyne’s voice singsonged from the other side of the complex, where she stood in her doorway with Petunia, her voice echoing in the deserted courtyard. “Looks like someone’s got a secret admirer!”

  Jamie grabbed the flower and hurried inside, firmly shutting the door, throwing the bolts home.

  In the still air of the darkened apartment, the rose smelled cloyingly sweet.

  After looking at it in horror for a few minutes, she strode to the kitchen and dropped it in the garbage disposal, flipping the switch and running the water until the sound told her it was devoured.

  Fred had always given her a yellow rose after they fought. Obviously he still thought it would work on her. And, just as obviously, he was wrong.

  Clutching together her shaking hands, she sat on the couch, in the dark, gathering her courage to go out in the sunshine and enjoy the day as planned.

  She yelped at the sharp rap on her door.

  Halting steps took her to the peephole.

  Shoulders slumped with relief. She could breathe again. It was only Devon.

  Mustering her courage, she threw back the locks and opened the door.

  Upon seeing him, however, all her bravado deserted her and she fell into his arms, a mass of shook-up nerve endings.

  “Hey, hey,” he said softly, holding her at arm’s length. “Are you okay? Did something else happen?” He grinned down at her. “Or did you just miss me?”

  She gazed up at him through her tears. It would sound so stupid and pathetic to tell him she was afraid because someone left a rose at her door. Besides, maybe spending time with Devon would take her mind off Fred.

  “I guess I missed you.” She pulled him down for a kiss that instantly heated.

  Gathering her close, he stepped through the door and kicked it shut, never breaking the kiss.

  Reluctantly she stepped back. If they stayed there, they would no doubt spend the day in bed. Not what she had planned.

  “It’s such a gorgeous day, I thought I’d go out. In fact, I was just on my way out.” She stepped toward the door to give him a hint.

  “Hey, great minds think alike. I’m playing hooky today. Wanna go to the beach?”

  “What about the leasing office?”

  “Francyne said she’d watch it while I’m gone.” He lowered his voice, “I think she has the hots for my big screen. She says her soaps come in better on it.”

  “In that case, yes, I’d love to go to the beach! Just let me grab a few things.”

  He playfully pulled her into his arms and said, “I’d like to grab a few things, too, if you get my drift. You know,” he said, rubbing his pelvis against her, “I know a spot where bathing suits are optional.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” She brushed her lips over his mouth and stepped out of his arms. “But I’m taking my suit just in case.”

  A few minutes later, she skipped into the room with her tote bag. “I’m ready.”

  “Great. Let’s stop off at my place on the way out so I can grab the picnic basket.”

  “A picnic basket?” She turned and shimmied the door unlocked.

  “Sure. Being out in all that fresh air and sand makes me hungry. Actually,” he said as they made their way across the courtyard, “you’re saving me from myself. If you hadn’t agreed to come, I’d have had to eat all the food alone.”

  “Ugh, I’m stuffed.” Jamie flopped down on the blanket and rubbed her stomach. “Why did you let me eat all that?”

  “I told you, you’re too skinny. Besides, I like watching you eat.”

  She raised her sunglasses and looked at him. “That’s weird.”

  “No, not really. I like the fact you enjoy your food. It’s even—”

  “What? You think I eat like a pig or something?”

  “No! Of course not. I just meant I think it’s sexy to be with a woman who likes to eat for a change. Hell, I’ve dated weirdos who would get full on a few grapes. So. Are you ready for dessert?”

  In response, she clutched her stomach and moaned. “Didn’t you hear me? I’m stuffed.” She warily watched him unwrap two pieces of molten chocolate cake. “What’s that?”

  “Leftover cake from the other night. I brought us each a piece, but you don’t want any so I guess I’ll have to eat both of them. Too bad. I even brought whipped cream.”

  “All right. Fine.” She sat up and pulled a plate from his hand and then made a rolling motion with her fork. “Don’t forget, I like lots of whipped cream.”

  “I thought you didn’t want anything else.”

  “I’m only doing it for you. I know you don’t want to get fat, so I’m helping you out. Don’t be so stingy with the whipped cream.”

  He reached out and rimmed her mouth with the frothy concoction then quickly licked it off. “We could save it for later. Maybe use it when we try out a few of the new sex toys. It might inspire me.”

  “Shut up and eat your cake.”

  Jamie wiped a trickle of sweat away from her eye and tried not to squint at the relentless sun.

  “Want me to put more sunscreen on you?” Devon’s voice ruffled the hair by her ear, sending a shiver over her heated skin.

  The idea of his hands, cool with lotion, gliding over her hot skin was heavenly.

  She moaned. “I’d love it, but I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “Oh?”

  “If you start rubbing lotion on me, I won’t want you to stop…and we’re in public.”

  “Look around, sweet thing.” He lifted her sunglasses, his hot gaze melting her resolve. “I told you I knew all the secluded spots.” A flick of his wrist had her bikini strings untied; then he brushed aside her cups.

  She grabbed unsuccessfully for the top. “Devon! Someone could walk up and see us.” Despite her words, the thought excited her, and she relaxed against the soft warmth of the blanket.

  “Possible but not probable.” He nudged her legs apart and settled against her. Even through her bikini bottom, his hardness pressed into her weeping flesh. He reached between them and tugged on the side ties of the bottom. As soon as they fell by her side, he pulled on the fabric. “Lift your
hips. C’mon. No one will see you. And even if someone walked up, I’m on top, shielding you.”

  All the reasons why it was a bad idea left her in the thrill of feeling his hands on her flesh. Canting her hips, she allowed him to drag her suit away from her lower body, leaving her naked beneath his hot, hard body.

  She hooked her thumbs in the elastic at his waist. “If I’m going to risk getting caught buck naked out here, you need to lose these, too.”

  She didn’t have to say it twice. In seconds, he was back, his hot erection probing her willing flesh. Their combined heat amplified the coconut scent of the suntan lotion to waft up between them, creating an aromatic sensual cocoon.

  His kiss was soft yet demanding and tasted of chocolate and sin.

  Sex on the beach used to be one of her secret fantasies. The floodgates opened, bringing to life all her old longings and dreams. Within her arms was the epitome of every fantasy or daydream she’d ever had. She’d have to be a special kind of stupid to pass up what he so strongly wanted to give.

  His fingers walked up her ribs, between their chests, to roll her hardened nipples while his tongue continued to sweep her mouth in languid strokes.

  The urge to feel him inside her grew until it reached fever pitch.

  Clutching him close, she spread her legs and thrust her hips on the off chance he didn’t understand what she wanted.

  A sexy moan vibrated her mouth. She had no idea if it came from her or Devon. The tip of his penis teased her.

  She nipped his lower lip in frustration and spread her legs wider. The hard muscle beneath the smooth skin of his buttocks burned the palms of her hands. Grasping a cheek in each hand, she flexed her hips, burying him to the hilt.

  They sighed and stilled for a moment and then began a slow in-and-out glide. With each smooth thrust, Devon slid his lotion-slicked chest against hers. Her nipples hardened to tight, sensitive peaks. Each slide of hot, slick skin over skin caused an answering surge of moisture.