He knew just where to touch. Just want she needed. It was as if he had a direct line straight to her libido. She didn’t want to think about the kind of practice that level of mastery required. Or who he’d been practicing on.
Grasping her by the waist again, he set her back on her feet. Her momentary frustration was relieved as she realized just what he was doing. Sure hands slipped the leggings and panties over her hips, thighs and calves. They dropped into a pile at her feet, forgotten as he settled her back against his body.
Her knees wedged on either side of his hips. He didn’t waste any time before his fingers dove into the center of her, slipping through the evidence of her desire for him to find the moist heat hidden deep inside.
She groaned. Her hips pitched forward and her head fell back. Dev scrambled to hold her, to keep her from falling. She didn’t care. Instead, she leaned against the line of his arm across her back and let herself go off center.
She trusted him to catch her. Even if she didn’t fully trust him with everything else.
He worked her, his entire focus completely on her. Her muscles tightened, and when he hit the perfect spot deep inside, her breath hitched.
After several moments of letting him play, she forced herself to pull back to vertical. Her thighs trembled. Her hands gripped the rounded curve of the chair back. She reached for him, wrapping his aching flesh in her tight fist again. But this time it wasn’t enough.
Rolling a condom down his thick shaft, she finally let her body sink onto his. Perfectly aligned, she opened herself and took him in, inch by blissful inch. Dev’s hands clenched around her hips. She could feel the tension coiling through him as he fought the need to thrust high and deep, to take her in one swift motion that would leave them both intoxicated and delirious.
Part of her wanted him to do it, to take the control away from her and let her just feel. But the rest of her wanted to savor and draw out every moment of the experience.
Her body finally gave, relaxing to take him completely. Her hips bumped his and he settled high and hard inside. Her eyes slipped shut, savoring the sensation of him stretching her, filling her.
She stayed there, poised on the edge of oblivion. Her body trembled. Deep inside, her muscles tightened around him, drawing a gasp.
They were closer even than they’d been the night of the masquerade. There was nothing between them now, nothing to hide behind, and for a moment panic suffused her.
Until his thighs bunched beneath her and he pushed that single centimeter higher and there was nothing but the way he made her feel. Her fingers curved around the nape of his neck, burrowed into the hair there and held on tight.
And then she was moving, the friction of their bodies as deliciously perfect as she remembered. Willow tensed, using her hold on him to lever her body up and then drop back down. Over and over, she let him slip almost to the tip before drawing him back inside her body.
She set the pace, but he joined her, adding the thrust of his hips to bring them even closer together. Pleasure built inside her, a ball of energy ricocheting dangerously and just waiting to explode.
The walls of her sex gripped him, trembling and ready to let go, but not without him.
Willow buried her head against his neck. His mouth found her skin. Teasing teeth scraped against the tendon running up the side of her throat. Ecstasy burst through her, piling on top of the sensation overload.
Up and down, the grinding frenzy of her need increased, tempting her to just let go. Mindless. She was mindless. For once in her life completely uncaring about anything but the way Dev made her feel. Right, wrong, safe, respectable...she no longer cared.
Slipping a single finger between them, Dev found her pulsing knot of nerves and rubbed. Her back bowed, the tight muscles holding him deep rippled and then everything exploded. Pleasure sizzled through her, sharp and freeing. A keening cry ripped from her throat.
Every muscle in her body went liquid. She might have collapsed if his hands hadn’t gripped her hips, holding her in place so he could drive deep, taking his own pleasure now that hers was spent.
A groan broke from him, the rattle of it rumbling through her sensitive system. His eyelids fluttered as if he wanted to let them fall, but he didn’t. Instead, he stared straight into her.
For a moment the other night she’d wished the masks away so that she could see the delirium and bliss of his release. Tonight she got her wish.
He let her in. Let her see just how completely she unraveled him. He was swamped by sensation, just as thoroughly as she’d been. And there was something unsettling and intimate about that.
Willow’s chest expanded and then contracted to tighten into a sharp ache.
She couldn’t look away. How could he be the one losing his mind and she be the one on the edge of complete and utter vulnerability?
It was a gift, his openness. And part of her lapped it up, greedily taking everything he was giving her. The rest of her felt as though she was teetering again, on the verge of a very deep chasm. But she couldn’t pull back. Couldn’t find a way to protect herself. Her defenses had been shattered—torn down by the blow of the break-in and the naked exposure of her release.
So she rode the waves with him, relishing the way he lost himself inside her body, until with a rush of energy he shattered deep inside her. He growled her name, the possessive, delicious sound sending a shiver down her spine.
When his muscles stopped quivering, Willow collapsed onto his chest. Her body slipped across his like summer sunlight, soft and warm. Her mouth found the crook of his neck and her lips latched there, tasting the salt from his skin.
He was still half-hard inside her. Something was beeping.
And she never wanted to move.
Beneath her, Dev stirred. She was completely naked, while the only thing he’d uncovered was his erection. Maybe in a few minutes she’d have enough energy to drag him upstairs and try for round two.
The beep sounded around them again. Dev shifted, canted his hips up so he could reach beneath him and pull out his cell phone.
“Oh, shit,” he breathed, horror and guilt flitting across his face before he shut his response down.
After the bare exposure of a few moments ago, the change was as sharp as a fist to the chest.
Wrapping his hands around her hips, he picked her up and put her back on her feet. Cool air brushed across her naked skin and made her shiver.
“I’m sorry, I have to take this.” Abruptly he walked away from her, juggling the phone and zipping up his fly.
Willow stood there staring at his retreating back. The soft murmur of his voice might have been soothing...if she hadn’t seen the name that popped up on the screen. Who the hell was Natalie? And why was he walking away from her naked body to talk to some other woman?
* * *
IT TOOK EVERYTHING inside him to walk away from Willow. Her skin was flushed pink and tempting. Even now he wanted more of her. He wanted to take her upstairs and spend all night exploring her...like he’d done that first night. But this time without any barriers between them.
But he knew his ex-wife well enough to realize that whatever she was calling about couldn’t be good.
He skipped past the pleasantries and went straight to the heart, “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, nothing.”
“Then why are you calling me, Natalie?” He just wanted to get this over with so he could go back to Willow.
The soft chuckle that slipped down the line made the muscles along his neck bunch. “Did I interrupt something important?”
“As a matter of fact, you did.”
“Who is she?”
“None of your damn business.”
“The state of Georgia says otherwise. We’re still married so technically you’re committing adultery.”
>
His back teeth ground together, but he kept the words he wanted to say from exploding. Another wave of guilt washed across him. He forcibly kept himself from turning to look at Willow. He could hear her, puttering around in the kitchen. Putting her clothes back on. Finishing dinner.
God, he should tell her about the mess he was in. But...it’d only been a few days. They were still dancing around each other. A hard fist tightened inside his chest.
She wasn’t entirely sure of him. He’d seen the hesitation play through her eyes when she led him into the house tonight, even after he’d told her the truth about their past.
He didn’t want to give her a reason to see the worst in him. He wasn’t sure he could take that. Not now. Not after tonight.
Besides, when was the right time to tell the woman you were seeing that you were technically still married? Dev didn’t think there really was one.
Especially when in a few weeks the whole damn thing would be a moot point. This marriage was a technicality and nothing more. Rather than give her the opportunity to judge him—and find him wanting like everyone else—he would just fix it.
“I’m not the one living with my fiancé,” he grated out.
“Oh, lighten up, Dev. That was always one of your problems. Not everything is a matter of life and death. I was just teasing you. I’d be happy if you could find someone. Surprised, but happy.”
“Surprised? What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Just that you tend to keep yourself closed off. Always have. That’s one of the main reasons we didn’t work out.”
He was so glad that she’d analyzed their entire relationship and laid all the blame squarely at his feet. Which was bull. He might not have been the best husband—they’d been too young and it wasn’t like he’d had a great example to follow. But he hadn’t cheated. He’d supported her dreams. Hell, he’d even done the laundry and dishes on occasion.
His teeth ground together. “I appreciate the psychoanalysis, Natalie, but I’m guessing that isn’t why you called.”
“Nope. Do you have Linda and Ricky’s address?”
Dev blinked. “What?”
“Do you have Linda and Ricky’s address? Since we have to wait six months for the wedding we’ve decided to make it bigger. Will is just the sweetest man. I told him I didn’t need all the fuss, but he knew I was lying. So I’m expanding the guest list.”
“You called me at seven o’clock at night and interrupted...to see if I had an address for your wedding?”
“I didn’t know what you were up to, silly.”
Dev groaned, screwed his eyes shut and prayed for patience. “That’s beside the point.”
Her sweet, sunny voice whipped across him. “Well, then what is the point, Dev?”
“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?”
The tinkle of her laughter slipped down the line making the tension in his body tighten...and not in a good way. “Little bit.”
“No, I do not have their address. You might want to try her cousin Sara.”
“I will. Thanks.”
“Anytime,” Dev growled, absolutely certain he didn’t mean it.
Thinking their conversation was done, he started to pull the phone away from his ear, but Natalie’s next words stopped him.
“I really do want you to be happy, Dev. You deserve it. I’ve always worried about you, all alone.”
“I’m not alone.”
“You are. And I’m not just talking about the fact that you have no family. You don’t let people in, Dev. You keep them at arm’s length, waiting for them to hurt you. Not everyone will.”
This was rich coming from the woman who’d left him. But as much as he wanted to call her on that, somehow he couldn’t find the words.
Instead, he said, “Thanks,” as a picture of Willow popped into his mind. Not of her naked, although that was a memory he hoped never to lose, but as she’d been in her workroom. Absorbed. Beautiful. Elegant.
God, he was out of his element with her and he had no idea how to find solid ground again. Maybe if he hadn’t wanted her for so long he’d have been able to hold back...but there was something about her that stripped away every defense he’d built.
10
IT HAD BEEN a long day. At some point each of her friends had stopped by the boutique to make sure she was okay. Last night there’d been no point in calling to tell them about the break-in. She’d known the whole town would be talking about it by morning, anyway.
And while she appreciated their support and concern, the constant interruptions were wreaking havoc with her productivity.
Willow stared at both of the dress forms in front of her. The dresses couldn’t have been more different. Flashy and over-the-top for the country star. Floating, ethereal and understated for the military bride.
There was no question which dress Willow preferred.
Each needed a little more work, but with only a few days to finish them she was finally starting to think she might actually make both deadlines...without the need to forgo sleep for several days.
Panic had stopped being the primary emotion whenever she looked at the dresses, and pride was slowly starting to take over. Even if she personally didn’t appreciate the country star’s dress, the fact that she’d been able to meet every demand without strangling the woman was enough.
The bell out front sounded. Willow groaned and squeezed her eyes shut for a moment before opening them again with a resigned sigh. Macey had left for an appointment in Charleston several hours ago, which meant she had to handle the boutique. Normally they didn’t see a lot of walk-in business in the middle of the week and they’d purposely taken no appointments for the day.
Oh, well. She was at a good stopping point anyway.
Rolling her shoulders and stretching her tight muscles, Willow hollered, “I’ll be right out,” to the front of the store.
“Don’t rush” came back at her in a low, smooth baritone that had need whipping through her.
At some point during his phone conversation last night, Willow had convinced herself she was being an idiot. Who cared that he was talking to another woman? She didn’t. Devlin Warwick could talk to whomever he liked.
They weren’t exclusive. She didn’t have any claim on him. They were just having a good time. Scratching an itch they’d both harbored for years.
She knew what kind of man Dev was and refused to let herself romanticize what was happening between them. He wasn’t a permanent fixture in her life. And she was okay with that.
She had to be.
He’d left early in the morning, placing a light kiss on her mouth and telling her that he had to work on the designs for the resort. He hadn’t made plans to see her again and she’d had to bite her tongue not to ask him.
Now that he’d shown up, without warning or asking if she was free, she wasn’t certain the small thrill racing through her chest was entirely welcome. Oh, she wanted him there, but she shouldn’t. Her day shouldn’t suddenly get brighter because he’d shown up.
What would happen when he was gone and that never happened again?
Willow walked out of the back to find Dev staring at a display of dresses she’d designed. Her name was scrawled across the wall above them in a scrolling, romantic font. They carried other lines because she wasn’t vain enough to think her dresses were perfect for every bride, but hers were the focal point of the entire boutique.
It did something to her to find Dev standing there. Made her nervous, restless and excited. What would he think of her work?
Slowly, he flipped through the silky confections, his head tilted to the side as he studied them. She didn’t realize he knew she was there until he said, “These are gorgeous,” without even bothering to turn around.
A soft sigh slipped thr
ough her lips. “Thank you.”
He leaned his back against the column beside him. Considered her the same way he’d studied her designs. Willow shifted on her heels, for some reason feeling unsteady.
“You’re very talented.”
She scoffed. “I just sew.”
“No, you don’t.”
A pleasant warmth buzzed through her. She tried to cut it off. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to take you to dinner.”
Willow raised an eyebrow. “Maybe I have plans already.”
“Do you?”
“No, but that’s beside the point.”
His lips twitched. His gaze swept across her body, taking in the buttoned blouse, knee-length pencil skirt and turquoise-blue heels she’d put on after he left this morning.
There was appreciation in his eyes. A flame kindled deep inside his dark blue gaze making her think she wasn’t going to be dressed for very long if he had anything to say about it.
She wanted to walk past him, flip the lock on the door, and find new and inventive ways to use the couches set in front of the three-way mirrors. Which is why she stood still, trying to force down the explosive image and the out-of-control need.
Seriously, she had to get a grip or she was going to completely lose it. And she didn’t do that. Ever.
Except around Devlin Warwick.
Dev pushed away from the column, but instead of approaching her and making good on the promise in his eyes, he walked to the opposite side of the boutique.
They carried a line of formal wear for all occasions—bridesmaids, proms, cocktail. Rifling through the racks, he paused and pulled out a seductive red dress. Willow knew everything that hung in the store and recognized it. With a boat neckline and plunging back, from the front it looked elegant and from the back it looked daring.
More daring than anything she normally wore.
“Would you wear this tonight?” he asked.
The Devil She Knows Page 11