by Mira Bailee
And I don’t bother to correct it. These assumptions have allowed us both a certain degree of privacy. No one in the media knows Devon’s here, and I’m no longer harassed by pirate-impersonating paparazzi. That’ll change soon enough when we’re seen together, and then the rumors will change.
This’ll be our life. And I’m completely happy with that.
From the corner of my eye, there’s movement, and I snap my head up in time to see the door of the facility open. Devon walks out, his bag slung over his shoulder.
Forget trying to keep it all together, I let the tears ruin my makeup as I jump out of the car and run straight into his arms. He wraps me into a hug and then pulls my face up to kiss me. His lips, soft and sweet, graze mine until he crushes into me, kissing me with force. My breath catches, and a familiar tingle runs down my spine. My body on fire, I tangle my fingers in his hair and hold tight to him.
When we break free, I stumble over all the words I want to say. “I’m so happy to…You’re out…How are you feeling…How’s Lex…Do you—”
“I love you.” He stares down at me, and I feel my knees go weak.
A laugh escapes me. Here I am, an emotional, nervous wreck. And here’s Devon, sure, confident, and very much to the point.
“I love you too.”
He kisses me again, this time lifting me off the ground. Then he leans in close to my ear. I breathe in the scent of him as he whispers, “Let’s get the hell out of here.”
I hand over his keys and we walk back to the car hand-in-hand. He holds the passenger door for me, then goes around to his side, tossing his bag onto the backseat. He settles into the driver’s seat and leans forward, planting a big kiss on his steering wheel. “I’ve missed you too,” he tells his car.
Ninety days worth of what ifs fly out the window as I look at Devon, how happy he seems, and accept that this beautiful life is all mine.
It’s a long drive, but I’m loving every second catching up with Devon.
“How’s work?” he asks me.
After Nat was arrested, Rhyanne Phoenix and I talked a bunch. She still felt bad she didn’t know about Nat’s double life. But with her in prison, it left a job opening at the YOUTHelp Foundation. Take that, crazy stalker bitch. I got rid of her and took her job. “I love it,” I tell Devon. “It’s everything I wanted in a career. I get to work with amazing people and do work that really matters. I can see myself staying with them forever.”
“Maybe you’ll take over as President of it someday.”
“Maybe.” I smile at the thought. “Maddie got a new job too. It’s another bartending job, but she’s happy with the money.”
“That’s good. Kaidan said the Stone name is finally free of all the scandals that had been piling up. It’s been good for the label and the law firm.”
“And which do you want to return to?” I ask. We limited all talk of the Stone family while he was in rehab, but I know he’s been considering his professional future with his family.
“I’m not sure yet. I’ll go back to doing the grunt work I’d been doing—tracking down new artists, working for the firm as needed. We’ll see which one I like more now that I’m sober.” He laughs, but it’s really not a joke. Things’ll be different for him now that he doesn’t have his old vice to turn to. But I have faith that he wants to stay clean.
“Did you hear from Kaidan often?” I ask. He’d made it clear Devon needed help, so I hope he offered support.
“Yeah, Lex and I both got a chance to talk to him. It’s been especially good for them, now that he knows she’s really his half-sister and that she’s not so bad. He’s been really encouraging. I think it’s because of his girlfriend.”
“Why’s that?” I’d seen plenty of Kaidan and Hayley Wade in the papers. Apparently, they’ve been in Paris, vacationing.
“He’s never been this happy with a woman. He’s got a messy past when it comes to love, but Hayley seems to keep him grounded. It’s funny. Whoever thought the troublemaking Stone twins would find the only women on this planet who can keep them in line?”
“You think that’s true?” I eye him carefully. If our ninety days apart have made anything clear, it’s that I really do love this man. It’s crazy how our lives were thrown together, and now, I can never imagine us apart.
“I know it’s true,” he says, taking my hand and kissing the back of it. “Love’ll do that to a person.”
“Hmm. ScandalLust will be disappointed then.”
Devon looks over, his eyebrow raised.
“They’re going to kick you off their Lust List.”
Just when I think we’re getting closer to home, Devon takes us on a detour. Not that I’m against more adventures, but right now, more than anything, I want to be home with him, curled up in bed. Preferably naked.
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see,” is all he says.
A few minutes later, he pulls up to a security gate at a condominium called The Promenade. He uses a key card to get in, and we stop at the valet.
“Welcome, Mr. Stone,” the valet driver says, holding the door for me.
Devon comes around and offers me his arm. “I have a surprise for you.”
This must be another one of his secret lairs. I want to roll my eyes, but at the same time, I’m giddy with excitement. How many ways will he surprise me throughout our relationship? All the secrets he’s kept from others, how long will it take before he tells me all of them? We’ve got years of discovery and understanding ahead of us as we learn more about each other. Have I mentioned how much I love this man—and love my life?
Devon leads us inside and uses his key card at the elevator to take us to the top floor. The doors open to reveal a quiet hallway with giant windows that show off the slowly setting sun. Still gripping my hand, Devon leads us to a door with 802 displayed in metal numbers.
Standing behind me, Devon kisses the back of my shoulder. “Ready?”
“For what?”
He unlocks the door, and we go inside.
A mostly empty living room awaits. The entire back wall is lined with windows with an incredible view of the Pacific Ocean. To the right, a modern kitchen and empty countertops. A small dining room is off to the side, a round table and chairs already in place under an industrial looking iron chandelier. The floors are a dark wood. And in the living room, they’re covered with an enormous, plush, white rug splayed before a marble fireplace.
On the rug, there’s a flower pot with a great, big white orchid plant, and next to it, a little card propped up.
I look at Devon, who’s watching me for a reaction. “What is all this?” I ask.
He just smiles. I drop my purse onto the kitchen counter and go to the card, stooping down to pick it up and read it.
Will you make a home with me?
My heart leaps, and a warmth floods through me. I’m so used to him turning me on or making me feel crazy, but this, this feeling is one I’ll always hold sacred. Love.
Before I can get up, he’s at my side. I press my lips against him and push him down onto the rug. Running my tongue along his bottom lip, I comb my fingers through his hair and settle my hands against his firm chest. Breathless, I pick my head up and look at him.
“You are my home, Devon Stone.”
“So you’ll move in with me?”
I sit up straight, giving him room to get up. “How did you do this? This place looks brand new.”
“I had ninety days in rehab to think about what I really wanted. I want you. One of the therapists there is married to a realtor. He got me in touch with her, and she helped me find this place. She played the middleman between me and the owners—and then me and the designers. I know it’s sparse right now. That’s because I wanted you to help. I want this place to be yours—ours.”
He bought us a condo. How do you top that?
“Can I see the rest?”
“That depends. Will you live with me?”
I smile and kiss him
again. “This became our home the second we walked in.”
He pulls me to standing and leads me through the rest of the place. A big master suite is furnished with a king size bed covered in pillows. The floor-to-ceiling windows continue in here, and I’m already looking forward to all the mornings I’ll wake up to the view of the ocean.
We check out the master bathroom, the guest suite, and the back balcony.
“This place is breathtaking. Thank you.” I look out at the water and take in the night breeze. The sun’s getting lower and the sky’s a beautiful gradient of oranges and purples.
Devon stands behind me, his arms wrapped around my front. “I thought of you when I bought it. I didn’t want it to be too big—something cozy and simple.”
I laugh. “It’s both bigger and more extraordinary than anything I’d ever expect to own, but it’s amazing.”
“You know my favorite part?”
“Hmm?” I turn around to face him, loving how the light of dusk makes him look even sexier.
“This balcony. The privacy of it, yet it’s out in the open.”
I look around and notice both sides are solid walls. The neighbors can’t see in. And we’re much too high up for beach-goers to see us with the half wall that blocks the view of the ground. All we can see is the shore and the horizon and the colorful panorama of the sky.
“It is pretty private, huh?”
Thinking fast, I turn us just enough to line up Devon with the upholstered lounge chair sitting behind him. I push him down onto it, and straddle him. I wore a dress today, so the limited amount of fabric from my panties makes the feeling of him beneath me overwhelmingly pleasurable. I grind into him, encouraged as he moans.
“Fuck, I missed you,” he says, his voice hoarse and low.
His hands grip my hips, and I lean down to kiss him. Our mouths are hungry from all the days we’ve been without each other. Sucking on his bottom lip, Devon grunts and pushes me down onto him harder. I’m wet and eager and reach down to unbutton his jeans. These have got to go!
I stand up, well aware that I’m outside, and usually I’d be too shy, too self-conscious to do this. But those feelings are nowhere to be found. I tug my dress over my head and watch Devon as he takes in my half-naked body. I’m down to my bra, my lacy panties, and a pair of white heels. Then I ditch the bra, and, finally, the panties. I’ll keep the heels on. It’s kind of sexy.
Leaning down, I take off Devon’s shoes, his socks, his shirt, his jeans—tossing each to the side. With each article of clothing disappearing, my body responds more intensely. I’m on fire and need him, now. And he, very obviously, feels the same.
“One second,” I say, and hurry inside. I practically sprint to my purse, digging inside for the condom I’d grabbed for this exact opportunity. I knew we’d both be eager to jump on each other, but I never expected it to be here.
Outside, I finish what I started and strip Devon of his boxers. He sees the condom and grins. “I love a girl who comes prepared.”
“A girl?” I ask playfully.
“My girl.” He puts the condom on and pulls my body down onto him, not wasting any time.
I cry out at the sudden penetration, but it feels so good, and I was more than ready. We’ve missed this, the choreography of our bodies as we find our rhythm and violate each other in the best ways.
My gaze drifts over his broad chest, and I watch as the muscles in his arms tense each time I come down onto him. The way he stares at me makes me melt—his eyes fiercely focused on me, as if there’s a chance I’ll disappear if he looks away. He seems mesmerized by the movement of my body, slow and sensual, and he smiles lazily when I moan.
Clenching my muscles, I can feel the length of him massaging me from the inside, and the pleasure of it is too intense. Picking up speed, the first convulsion runs through me, and Devon feels it too, because he bucks his hips hard, hitting me deeper.
With each thrust, my body screams with ecstasy. Devon lifts his head to kiss my mouth, my neck, my shoulder. Hungry for more, he nibbles and sucks at my breasts, my nipples, and back up to my collarbone, my ear. I ride him harder and faster until we reach our peak. My body comes unbound, and Devon growls in my ear as we both climax. I keep grinding into him, the intensity unbearable, until we’re both completely spent, and then I collapse onto his chest, both of us fighting for breath.
Our erratic heartbeats drum together, and a thin layer of sweat makes both of our bodies shine. The sun’s been replaced by the moon, and it feels like this entire world only exists for the two of us.
I shiver from the open air on my exposed skin, and Devon reaches to a nearby table, revealing a storage space under the top. He pulls out a small throw blanket and wraps it over me.
“I love a man who comes prepared.” My voice sounds sleepy, but I have no intention of getting up and going to our new bedroom. In fact, I don’t plan on falling asleep. As soon as I find the energy, I’m beginning round two with my naked Devon.
Devon squeezes me and clears his throat. “A man,” he asks with the same playful tone I had before.
I laugh. “My man.”
I roll over so I can stare up at the twinkling stars above us. With Devon embracing my satisfied body, and lying here in the comfort of our new home, one thing is clearer than the gorgeous night sky:
Everything is perfect.
***
Continue reading to relive the luxury and scandal through Hayley Wade as her life becomes more chaotic when Kaidan Stone enters it.
The Lust List: Kaidan Stone is a parallel series to The Lust List: Devon Stone.
Both stories take place on the same timeline while giving you different perspectives of the Stone family and Hollywood life.
The Lust List: Kaidan Stone
ONE CONDITION
By Nova Raines
Entire series available now!
GET IT
Or continue to the sample.
* * *
You know that moment when you realize, for the first time, that your parents aren’t superheroes? That they’re not gods who can do no wrong, that they aren’t perfect representations of what it means to be a grown up?
Yeah, I don’t remember that moment. It wasn’t a surprise when I was six years old, and the cops took my dad in for cocaine possession. It wasn’t a surprise when I’d walk into my parent’s huge master bedroom on a Sunday morning and find my father with a woman, or a few women, who were decidedly not my mother. My mom was usually passed out on the couch those mornings. I wasn’t surprised when she went out partying one night, overdosed, then never came home.
I don’t remember the moment my parents fell off a pedestal, because they were never on one. I always knew they were broken. But you get to be like that, when you’re on the A-List. The world devours your dirt. You’re always performing for the cameras, ‘cause they never turn off. No real consequences, until you party yourself into an early grave. That’s the penalty for never growing up. You die young.
So I wasn’t surprised at all when I became an orphan before my twenty-third birthday. I’d made it a policy never to read tabloid trash, but the sharks were psychic the day my dad died. There’d been a picture of me, hiding my face from the paps after I got arrested for shoplifting last year. “Boutique Thief Hayley Wade Reels from Rock Star Dad’s Early Demise.” Ironic headline, considering I didn’t find out my dad died ‘til someone forwarded me the link to theScandalLust article.
Now I’m sitting across the table from the smarmiest, most overpriced lawyer in Los Angeles, waiting to find out what I’ve inherited. I run my hand along the cool leather of the armchair and stare at the wood-paneled walls. Between my mother’s movie star earnings and my father’s twenty-five years of world tours and endless groupies, my older brother and I should be sitting on a huge pile of money.
“All right, Hayley. I’ve finished looking over everything,” my lawyer says.
I check his name plaque again. James Nordstrom. He leans back in
his chair and folds his hands over his bulging middle. He’s got high cheekbones, tan skin, and wavy blond hair. He might be good-looking, for an old guy, if he worked out a little. But money can’t buy self-discipline. We’ve already established that. “I have good news and bad news.”
“Mr. Nordstrom,” I say. “I—”
“Call me Jim.” He leans forward, smiling at me, and I’m instantly skeeved out. It’s like insects have crawled out his eyeballs and are skittering across the table toward me. I pull my hands into my lap. I take it back. He could never be good-looking.
Smarmy Jim clears his throat. “Since you’ve decided to move into the penthouse, you can keep paying the rent on that. But after we pay your father’s other outstanding bills and sell the house, this is what you’ll be getting.”
He writes a number on his notepad and rips the strip off. He holds the small paper out to me and doesn’t release it right away, forcing my hand to touch his as I grab it. What the actual fuck? Does he think I’m stupid enough to screw my lawyer? I bet I look attractive now that he’s seen my portfolio.
Face flaming, I rip the paper from his grasp and stare down at it. My stomach flutters a little. Okay, it flutters a lot. Eight figures. I'm definitely never working again.
“Is this half? What’s Rowan getting? You know,” I say and lick my lips. “He doesn't want anything.”
“I can’t discuss Rowan’s inheritance with you,” Jim says. “I’m still waiting for him to return my calls.”
Rowan will never answer Jim's calls. He hated our father. I was shocked he even showed up to the funeral. Not that he'd talked to me, either. We’re not exactly close. Rowan is more like our dad was than he'll ever admit.
“So what's the bad news? And when do I get the money?” I ask. “I haven't received my allowance this month, and my bills—”
“About that. That's the bad part.”