Admission of Love
Page 17
She had blown his mind . . . among other things!
She was younger than he by four years, but in the time since they started cavorting she had taught him a few things in bed, and that was saying a lot. Ah, who knew an ice cube could work such wonders?
Devon had been right to warn him. Poochie did have his nose wide open. The woman was a clawing, scratching, licking, growling tigress in bed ... or in the car ... or on the diner’s kitchen floor.
Chloe was a rare jewel to be treasured and dreamed of, but Poochie . . . well, she was a very soft and very willing reality. Deshawn unzipped his jeans, releasing his hardened member. He didn’t even lower his pants; Poochie liked it that way.
After rolling a latex condom onto his hard length he walked behind her, putting both of his hands on the softness of her derriere and guiding himself into her wetness with one hard thrust from behind. Oh yes, Poochie was his very willing and eager reality.
∞
Alicia parked her car behind Chloe’s expensive SUV, tempted to run into the back of it. She knew if she did that she couldn’t afford the repairs if she was discovered, so she withdrew the idea. She walked into the office still boiled with anger from her earlier confrontation with Chloe.
Had she been so obvious with her love for Devon that Chloe had noticed? Who else suspected?
“I hate her,” she muttered as the lunch of roast beef and mashed potatoes threatened to purge. She had to admit that the woman had surprised her with her forthrightness. Never would Alicia have thought that Chloe Bolton had that much spunk. She thought the twig would have really clawed her eyes out!
"Maybe Devon might pay you more attention, if you’d pay some to yourself.”
Alicia pulled out the round compact from her pocketbook, opening it to look at her reflection. She saw what she always saw, surely not as bad as Chloe had put it.
Would she tell Devon?
She could see the woman doing it just out of spite. Alicia knew she couldn’t allow that. Closing the compact, she leaned back in her chair, thinking. What if she went to Devon first and told him Chloe had picked a fight with her and said hateful and spiteful things? Devon’s opinion of the woman should help him believe what she would tell him, plus he was her best friend. Surely he would pick her side against that walking skeleton?
Resolved to tell him as soon as possible, Alicia grabbed her purse and left the office. She would go to the site and tell him immediately. Then maybe she’d invite him over for dinner, and well . . . who knows? Tonight might be the night for her to finally make her move on Devon. Waiting for him to do so was driving her insane.
Alicia got into her car and soon was headed left toward Chloe’s house. She pumped the brakes, slowing the car down. Only Devon’s midnight blue truck was parked in the yard. There was no sight of any of the other crew members, not even Deshawn. She then remembered they were rushing to finish the house before schedule, and judging by the bow on the front of the house and the lack of any work being done, they must have accomplished that goal. But they didn’t tell her they would be finished today.
The flash of someone walking by the living room window caught her eye. Probably Devon, she thought as she turned her car onto the driveway, the engine of the car loud and grinding.
Another figure walked past the window and she saw that whoever it was, was definitely slimmer in build and slightly shorter than Devon. At first she assumed it was a member of the crew. Who else could it be?
A scream of disbelief froze in Alicia’s throat, and her eyes widened as she slammed on the brakes. Her stiff body jerked forward against the steering wheel. From where her car was, just a few feet away from the house, she could clearly see that it was Devon . . . and Chloe!
And at that moment he was kissing her with the same intensity and fervor that Alicia prayed he would one day show her. She watched them, filled with pain, her hands clutching the steering wheel as Devon unbuttoned Chloe’s dress and lowered his head to capture one of her exposed breasts in his mouth.
Alicia’s throat tightened in raw pain and shock as tears blurred her vision.
Tears of unrequited love.
Tears of pain.
Tears of disbelief.
Tears of embarrassment.
Tears of pure hatred ... for Chloe.
Unable to take any more of seeing her worst fears shown real, she jerked the car into reverse with stiff movements. Her entire body shook, tears streaming down her cheeks. Alicia pulled off down the road at an alarming speed, trying to outrun the scene she just left, but failing miserably. Forever the sight of Chloe in Devon’s arms would be etched, like a hot branding iron, into her memory.
“Maybe Devon might pay you more attention if you’d pay some to yourself.”
Frantically she drove on, having to swerve wildly to miss a dog crossing the road. People she passed turned to watch her with confusion and fear clearly etched on their faces. Angrily, Alicia swiped at the bitter tears that continued to stream down her face. With a squeal of tires she turned the car into her small, dirt-packed yard. She barely turned off the car before she jumped out and ran inside her small cottage house, leaving the car door wide open.
“Maybe Devon might pay you more attention if you’d pay some to yourself.”
Flinging her petite frame onto her bed, she clutched her pillow to her chest and let the bitter tide of tears flow freely. Her moans of agony were muffled as she bit down on the downy mass in frustration.
Maybe it wasn’t Devon but Deshawn, she thought wildly, searching for an answer. For one brief moment the pain lifted from her chest and the tears eased, until she remembered that Deshawn was involved with Poochie from the diner.
No, she was sure. No matter how much she wished it wasn’t true, it had been her Devon with Chloe. The pain swallowed her whole like a tidal wave and the tears built up in the back of her eyes until they stung. “Why, Devon?” she moaned into the pillow. “Why her? Why not me?”
When had it begun?
Why hadn’t she known?
When had his disgust and dislike for Chloe Bolton turned to lust?
And that’s all it was, Alicia knew. Just lust, pure and simple. It was not the love she had for him. Love that still blossomed in her heart.
How she hated that woman.
Why couldn’t she stay in New York? Why did she have to move to Holtsville?
These questions and many more plagued Alicia as late afternoon became early evening. The sun descended from the sky and darkness began to settle around her small cottage. Never once did she move off the bed.
Even now, hours later, as the tears had finally waned and numbness had settled in, the image of Devon and Chloe replayed like a scratched record, over and over and over again. Hatred for the supermodel burned her gut. Her mind worked overtime for a solution on how to get rid of Chloe Bolton.
The phone rang loudly in the darkness of the bedroom. Alicia wanted to ignore it and wallow in her hatred and self-pity, but it continued to ring persistently. Rolling over onto her stomach, she reached for the telephone on the nightstand. “Hello,” she croaked, her voice strained from the tears that had racked her body.
“Hello . . . Alicia? What’s up, girl? You sound like hell!”
Alicia grimaced at how loud Tara, her sister, was talking into the phone. She had a viciously pounding headache and her eyes were swollen and nearly closed with a tight and gritty feel. “I was taking a nap,” she lied. “You woke me up.”
“I just wanted to check up on you. I heard how you were speeding on Willow Lane. They said you looked upset. What’s up?” Tara’s voice was filled with concern for her younger sibling.
Inwardly Alicia groaned. Small-town busy bodies didn’t miss a thing. “Who told you they saw me speeding, Tara?”
“They asked me not to say, and it’s not important anyway. Were you speeding like a bat out of hell?”
“No, they’re lying,” she lied.
Tara was quiet a moment. “Okay, then forget it. I hea
rd Chloe Bolton’s big house is finished. True?”
Alicia’s lips tightened at the mention of her nemesis. Hatred boiled. “Yeah.”
“I know she’ll be pleased. That house makes five of mine!”
Alicia bit her bottom lip. “Yeah she’s pleased, so she can stop complaining about Nana Lil and the twins’ house,” she lied easily, wanting to tarnish the perfect image of Chloe.
“What?!” Tara exclaimed, her voice shrill as she waited for more details.
“I overheard her on the phone with her big-time friends from New York laughing at the house and the people from town.” Alicia’s heart raced as she continued to weave her lies like a vicious and deadly black spider. “I even heard her talking about doing drugs.”
Tara gasped in shock, “No!”
“Yes, but Tara, you didn’t hear it from me.”
“Well, of course not. I sure didn’t.”
∞
Devon looked down at Chloe’s sleeping form, huddled in a ball. Their bodies were padded by the impromptu bedding of comforters on the wooden floor of what would be her private gym. They had enjoyed each other’s bodies in every one of the rooms of the house before coming to this room last, to watch themselves couple in the mirrors running along the walls.
His appetite for this woman was infinite. He never seemed to get enough of being with her. Even now, after long hours of physical delight, the sight of her nipples now soft and flat in her sleep made his loins tighten in hunger.
She had dispelled all the misconceptions he had had about her. Never once had she looked down her nose at his hometown or its occupants. She never complained about all the things the small town lacked in comparison to New York, although he was sure it must have crossed her mind. Both he and his brother liked designer clothing and traveled to Charleston and Hilton Head to purchase their wardrobe themselves.
Sometimes when he looked at her, he saw just a beautiful woman with a kind heart and good nature, not the glamorous supermodel that had blossomed in front of the camera. Especially when she wore her long hair in those two ponytails she loved so much.
At odd times during the day he would think of little things about her. The way she closed her eyes and wiggled in her seat when she ate a bite of something delicious. Or the way she snored when she was deep asleep, something she vehemently denied when he told her about it. Or especially the way her eyelids became lazy when he stroked deep inside of her.
Chloe.
Where is this headed?
Surely incredible sex between two consenting adults could not last long if that’s all the relationship was based on. So where was this headed? Neither of them had spoken of it, but he knew that he had no thoughts of any other woman since the first night they shared together.
Did that mean something?
Physically he was drawn to her, but he knew it was best to keep his distance emotionally. He doubted she would remain in the small town for long. He still saw some similarities between Chloe and Elissa. Devon had to admit that he just didn’t believe she would actually move to the small town, regardless of what she proclaimed. Eventually this phase of her life, to fulfill her mother’s dream of building the house, would pass and she would seek out her jet-setting life of wealth and glamour. She was only in her mid-thirties and once she finished focusing all of her time on decorating the new house, what did she plan to do with her time all day?
Chloe snorted in her sleep before turning onto her side to snuggle closer to Devon’s chest. He was lying on his side watching her, his head propped up on his hand. She didn’t awaken, but smacked her full lips in contentment, the sheet draped over her naked form.
She was exquisitely beautiful, he could well see why she had been so wildly acclaimed as a model. Okay, yes, he was more than a little cocky about having one of the most desired women in the world in his bed, acting like she couldn’t get enough of him. And he felt very protective of her.
Chloe Bolton.
She’d walked the runways, posed for magazine covers and layouts, did TV commercials, guest starred in music videos and movies. She was named one of People’s “Fifty Most Beautiful People” six times, and her name had stayed at the top of the list of most sought-after models. Bestselling beauty books. Endorsements. Wealth, fame and glamour.
Devon looked down at her, thinking of how good her breasts felt pressed against his chest. Leaning down, he nuzzled her neck, inhaling her sweet unique scent. He let his hand slide under the sheet to caress the deep curve of her waist before dipping down to grip the fullness of her derriere.
Chloe stretched her long limbs, awakened by the most wonderful sensation as Devon’s head dipped to capture one of her hard nipples in the wet warmth of his mouth.
“Aren’t you ever satisfied?” she moaned playfully as he rolled onto his back carrying her with him.
Letting the sheet fall to her waist, Chloe rose to a sitting position atop him. The base of his hardened length pressed against her core. His hands moved up to cup her full voluminous globes, teasing her nipples with his thumbs. In just seconds, he was covered with protection. Her eyes glazed with desire as she rose up on her knees and held his hardness straight up with one hand. Slowly she squatted down on him, smiling at how his mouth formed an “o” from the pleasure of surrounding him with her sheath.
Chloe said nothing as she rode him, just letting her eyes feast on him and his reactions to her. She moved her body in a snake-like motion, her hands on his chest and his hands clutching at her waist tightly.
Their eyes remained locked and Chloe lowered her upper body down onto her elbows, letting her breasts hang in his face, her hips still grinding into him. He didn’t move. He didn’t have to. She knew how to please him.
They shuddered together in release and Chloe fell onto his chest in exhaustion. Her leg muscles quivered from exertion. Devon rubbed the total expanse of her soft back, still deeply planted inside of her.
“You ever rode a horse, Chloe?” he asked as he placed a kiss on the top of her sweat-drenched hair. “I think you’re a natural. We’ll have to see if you’re as good on a real stallion.”
Chloe laughed lightly and then playfully bit his chocolate nipple before moving her hands to his sides to tickle him. “I must be a jockey the way you just got to the finish line so quickly.”
Devon whistled. “Give me about a twenty or thirty minute nap to build up my protein and we’ll see if you’re still bragging”
Nearly one hour later they gathered up their quilts and dressed in the darkness of the unfurnished house. Hunger forced them out of hiding. Neither said so, but both were reluctant to leave their haven, knowing when they got home that they would have to part and sleep in separate rooms. Neither admitted that they would miss the other, even in sleep.
Chapter Twelve
Devon did actually hold Chloe up on the horseback riding that following Sunday afternoon. A friend of Deshawn and Devon had a large stable of more than fifteen horses. That morning after breakfast, with Nana Lil off to church and Deshawn gone to sniff behind Poochie, Devon made the offer to Chloe, who had excitedly accepted.
It would be another week before she could officially move into her house because small details, such as making an appointment for the electrical lines to be laid underground, had to be taken care of. She was more than willing to spend time with Devon alone as the time neared for her to move into her own home alone.
They rode in silence in his truck, the local rhythm and blues station playing on the radio as he drove with speed and efficiency. Chloe was surprised and pleased as Devon’s hand moved off the steering wheel to grasp her thigh with warmth and strength. That simple move marked the start of a fun, carefree and surprisingly romantic afternoon for the couple.
Devon selected a powerful black stallion named Thunder for himself, and an equally swift gray mare named Butterfly for Chloe. They rode at a leisurely pace around the acres of lush green plains that the horse farm provided. The trail they followed was well-marked.
The trail widened back into an open field and Devon trotted up to ride beside her. “You ride well. Where did you learn?”
“Egypt,” she said with a wink as she turned her face to look at him.
Devon looked surprised. “Egypt?”
“Yup.” Chloe nodded, her beautiful hazel eyes squinting to block the sun glaring brilliantly in the sky. She longed for one of her many pairs of designer sunglasses. “This sports magazine shot their annual swimsuit issue in Danir, Egypt. The Sheik Rahmeed of Danir graciously offered the entire entourage use of the apartments in one wing of his palace. The invitation included free use of his stable of horses.” She laughed as she remembered the trip. “A couple of the girls were excellent in the saddle, but I knew nothing about horses, period. I mean we didn’t exactly have them grazing around the Bronx when I was growing up.”
He smiled. “So one of the other models taught you to ride?”
Chloe looked off to some faraway spot in the distance as they rode. “No, uh . . . actually the sheik did.”
“The sheik?” His deep southern voice was mocking.
“Yes. He offered his personal services to me, along with his two soldiers flanked with automatic rifles who would then unload an entire tent with picnic preparations.” Chloe laughed as she recalled the events. “It really was exciting being courted by a wealthy, dark and handsome sheik. Especially when he graciously invited me to share his life as wife number eight in his harem.”
Devon doubled over in laughter, careful not to fall off the horse. “Harem . . . wife number eight.”
He continued to laugh until he saw her hurt expression. Reaching for her reins, he brought both of their horses to a complete stop in the middle of the green field. “I’m sorry baby, it was funny.”