by Linda Oaks
“Kara,” he murmured, making me want to moan out loud at the seductive tone of his voice.
The way he said my name could make me melt into a big, gooey puddle. I’d been without sex for too long. The craving I felt for him had not diminished over time. In fact, it was even stronger than ever before. We had flirted dangerously close with the temptation of crossing that line and once we did there would be no going back, at least not for me. The first time, the night of Brandon and Cal’s wedding reception, and the second that evening at Clyde’s house…I didn’t even want to think about the garage. Could there be the slightest chance that Devon felt the same way that I did? Could he be hesitant to confess his feelings for the fear of rejection? One couldn’t lose what they’d already lost. Was there even the remote possibility of rekindling all of those old feelings we’d once shared or was this only a pleasant way for Devon to pass time? I was so confused, but it was clear to me that I needed to get laid. Yes, but it needed to be some random stranger with no emotional ties; no opportunity for my heart to get any more damaged than it already was. Then just maybe, I could think clearly. Maybe this time my heart would finally allow me to move on. When I returned home, this would skyrocket to the top of my to-do list stuck to the front of my refrigerator door; yet another reminder of what a loser I really was. My life was pathetic.
His hands settled on my hips halting all thought. He gripped me possessively as if I were his for the taking. Time stopped. All sense of rhyme or reason had flown out the window. Helpless against him, I clutched the dresser, willing myself to be strong enough to demand that he let me go, to demand answers to all those questions I had, but those words wouldn’t move past my lips. I’d missed him too much. Through the thin material of my sundress, the pressure of his fingertips sinking into the fabric against my skin was almost my undoing.
“I love the smell of me all over you,” Devon confessed in my ear. “God, I’ve missed you, Kara.” He murmured, sliding his hands down my thighs and molding the fabric of my dress to my legs as he caressed me.
“Devon,” I gasped when his hands splayed against my bare skin and began to journey upward. Harsh frantic pants echoed in the silence of the room. Distantly, I realized those sounds were coming from me. Whenever Devon touched me, I lost the ability to focus or function. My brain shut down. There was only the ability to feel, and I was a quivering mass of want awaiting his pleasure.
Rough fingertips grazed the insides of my thighs. The sensation of those calloused hands intimately caressing my skin made me tremble uncontrollably. He lifted the thin fabric of my dress and shifted his body against mine, pressing closer until I was flush with the dresser. His thumbs caressed the curves of my ass, lingering as if savoring the sensation of the smooth skin, before sliding intimately inward to brazenly graze my wanton heat. His lips moved hungrily against the sloping curve of my shoulder. His teeth relentlessly nipped my skin. He cupped my ass firmly, kneading the trembling muscles in his big hands. Unable to control my reaction, I squirmed against him.
“Please, Devon,” I whispered frantically, his touch so different from the boy I remembered, and yet still the same. This was the touch of a man — a confident man who took what he wanted… who took what was his.
“Please what, Kara,” he growled, echoing my words as he tenderly nipped the delicate shell of my ear while we feverishly strained against one another. “Do you want me, baby?”
It wasn’t a matter of want. It didn’t even play into the equation. It was all about need, and I needed him now. “Yes,” I heaved breathlessly, arching my neck and leaning my head back to rest against his broad shoulder. Tilting my face upward, I sought his lips. My body was limp and heavy. The salty taste of his skin on my tongue only inflamed my senses. My mouth begged shamelessly for his kisses.
“That’s the prettiest fucking sight. My baby all flushed and begging,” he murmured. The erotic, raspy tone of his voice had me raising my eyes to meet his in the mirror. Beneath his heated gaze, my nipples peaked against my strapless bra. They were clearly visible through my dress, as it offered little to no protection. Devon had the bottom half bunched around my hips revealing the tiny pair of pink panties I’d donned early this morning.
The evidence of my desire was obvious against the pink silk. The vulnerability of my emotions was evident on my face. I was an open book. There was no way I could hide anything from him. He could crush me — heart and soul — but I was willing to feel the burn if it meant savoring his heat.
I wanted skin on skin; I wanted not only his eyes, but also his hands to explore every single one of my curves and his flesh against mine. I wanted his heart, not only to keep but to also beat against my own. I wanted my name on his lips and him buried so far inside of me that I forgot everything but the thrill of his possession. I wanted him as lost in me as I was in him, but I also wanted him to claim me.
“Hold still, baby. Spread your legs.” He ordered as his hands moved to the band of stretchy material that covered my breasts. My skin prickled with awareness awaiting his touch. His fingertips curled under the elastic as he stroked my bare skin. He explored relentlessly as he tugged the material aside and caressed my body. It wasn’t long before the dress lay pooled at my feet.
“I could eat you up,” Devon growled. He knelt behind me having followed the path of the dress. His hands rested on my hipbones. His warm breath sunk into the thin silk covering my backside. I moaned wanting more, but at the sharp sting of his teeth, I jumped coming fully to my senses and squealed only to hear him laugh from behind me. “Turn around, baby.”
And I did, staring down at the hulk of a man kneeling before me while clad only in my white strapless bra and panties. Devon remained fully dressed. “The smell of you makes me so fucking hard,” he confessed on a growl, moving closer until the heat of his breath warmed me intimately. My trembling hands tangled in his hair, stroking the silky strands as his deft fingers plucked the tiny straps along the sides of my hips. He tugged them hard and under the pressure of his fingertips the material snapped and fell to the floor. Rough hands pulled my legs apart.
The metal knobs of the dresser pressed against my bottom. His chin brushed my seam and caused me to gasp out loud. His tongue trailed leisurely along my skin as he hummed against the most intimate part of my body. I clutched his hair, my nails digging into his scalp urging him closer. I was shameless.
“Devon,” I moaned his name, shaking uncontrollably. My legs trembled. My body buzzing from the inside out, drunk on the intoxicating pleasure of his intimate kiss. “You’ll make me come,” I gasped, feeling the fluttering quakes of my surrender near. “I don’t want to come unless you’re buried inside of me,” I begged, tugging the strands of his hair in protest while squirming against him. Despite my plea, my body was begging for more. He rocked back on his heels then knelt on one knee looking up at me.
“Do you want me, baby?” he asked, his expression smug as he continued to torture me with his hands. A wicked grin curved his lips. He was too damn sexy.
When I thought that I wouldn’t be able to bear it another second longer, he stopped and gripped the dresser near my hips and stood. His body brushed against mine making me shake. His gaze held mine as he reached around me, releasing the snap of my bra, and freeing my breasts. His fingertips brushed my nipples. He leaned in, taking my mouth in a hungry, hot kiss as his tongue demanded entrance. I had no will. I surrendered, and he took everything I offered, but he gave me so much more in return.
My hands reached for the hem of his T-shirt, sliding beneath and along the waistband of his jeans. Hard muscles jerked beneath my fingertips then he stepped away to quickly tug the shirt over his head. It made his thick, dark hair messy and just the way I liked it. His jaw was tense, his body wound tight as a spring. The look in his eyes left me breathless.
My Devon was all muscle and hard, angry lines, and my fingers longed to explore and discover every inch of the man that he’d become. “Are you on the pill, Kara
?” He rasped, his gaze drifting from my eyes and shifting lower.
“Yes, Devon,” I groaned, my voice hardly recognizable even to myself as his hands cupped my breasts.
“You always had the perfect set of tits, babe,” he murmured, sliding his big hands downward and along my ribs. He bent, capturing me within the warm suction of his skillful mouth. My hands clenched his broad shoulders, gripping them as I rubbed against the muscular thigh positioned in between my legs. When his hands settled on my ass, he lifted my feet from the floor, moving forward to sit me gently on the dresser.
As if of their own accord, my legs fell open and he stepped between my thighs, bracing his hands on the dresser near my bottom, caging my hips. The air crackled with the intensity between us. He leaned in allowing his lips to settle briefly against mine for a kiss.
“I’ve never loved anyone the way I loved you,” he murmured, staring back at me. His expression was fierce.
In that moment, Devon owned me. My hands reached for the waistband of his jeans. My fingers fumbled in my haste. My thoughts filled with him and his confession. Devon might not be able to say the words I wanted to hear right now, but in my heart there was no doubt that he still loved me.
His heavily lidded eyes lowered, watching my slim hands work to unbutton his fly. The image was quiet erotic. I was completely exposed to him and as bare as the day I was born. When I reached for his zipper, grazing my knuckles against his arousal, he raised his head and groaned as if in pain. His mouth raged against mine while I slid the zipper down to slip my hand inside his pants. I gripped him like he was mine, and when my name was whispered on the gasp that burst from his mouth, my lips were there to catch it.
His hands frantically gripped my hips as he turned his head to the side separating our lips. Greedily, I sucked in air as my hand continued to lovingly stroke him. “I fucking can’t take it, Kara. Baby, I’m sorry,” he groaned, releasing his grip on my hips and taking a step back to shove his pants and boxers past his knees. He still wore his work boots, I dimly thought with a smile.
In the blink of an eye he was on me, settling between my legs, probing my entrance. “It’s been a while for me, Devon,” I gasped, gripping the dresser with my damp hands as he worked his way inside. My body shuddered as his hand splayed against my back, and he moved in closer until his damp chest pressed intimately against mine. We were both slick with sweat.
He was buried to the hilt touching my womb. “Feels like fucking heaven, Kara,” he growled in my ear, turning his head and seeking my lips. My hands slid down his shoulders, across the planes of his sculpted chest, and skirted his sides to grip his firm behind before pulling him even closer. When he began to move, my insides quaked under his assault, and my hands clutched his muscled back as my neck arched and my head fell limp. My eyes closed, rolling back in my head as he clasped my calf and settled my foot beside my hip on the dresser.
His mouth worked my neck sucking greedily as his other hand gripped my breast. The tiny pulses simmering low in my belly shifted even lower. He began to rock relentlessly. ‘I’m going to come, Devon,” I gasped, my voice sounding slurred as if I were drunk.
He didn’t let up. Breathlessly, I chanted his name as the pulsing increased and turned into a tingling at the base of my spine making my toes curl. I moaned incoherently. His mouth slammed against mine and swallowed my cries until my shaking body grew limp. I heard him grunt my name, and then I felt the release of his hot, sticky wetness coat my insides. The house was quiet except for the sounds of our harsh breaths. I started to giggle. I couldn’t help it. We’d acted like animals.
“Fuck,” Devon murmured, resting his sweaty forehead against mine. “Now that’s what I call a homecoming,” he said, grinning. It was the most beautiful smile I’d ever seen.
CHAPTER EIGHT
THE FLAT SCREEN TV BEHIND me was playing reruns of The Big Bang Theory, but the sight propped before me resting against the headboard was much more entertaining. Devon was smiling which in its own right was a sight to behold. The five o’clock shadow he sported made a breathtaking backdrop for his sensual lips. Just thinking about all of those places his lips had explored made my heart rate accelerate. The sight of him open and laughing left me breathless.
He’d been in a playful mood ever since the wild monkey sex we’d had earlier. We were both still naked. Devon’s thick, dark hair stuck out all over his head making it seem as if he’d been caught in a high wind, but he was so fucking beautiful; he wore the look well.
He plucked a piece of sweet and sour chicken from the container of fried rice and offered it to me. I leaned forward, my breasts swaying, and opened my mouth. I knew how to work it. His gaze was intense. His fingers grazed my lips, placing the morsel directly on my tongue.
“Umm,” I murmured, closing my mouth and smiling. His eyes jerked upward meeting mine.
He laughed, cocking an eyebrow at me. He knew what I was doing. “Kara, you’re such a tease.”
With a playful smile, I shrugged my shoulders pointing at one of the pictures in the opened album that lay between us on the bed. Devon rubbed his calf against my hip, purring like a big tomcat. The feel of his skin stroking mine was heavenly.
“Where was that one taken?” I asked, staring down at the picture in the album and trying to get my mind off sex with Devon¸ but it was hard to do with him sitting there naked.
The photo was one of Jagger with Clyde standing beside of him. Jagger was seated on a bright blue mechanical horse. Clyde’s hands held him safely perched upon its back. His sweet, tiny, little face was filled with pure joy. He was an exact replica of his father, even down to the dimples in his chubby baby cheeks. Devon laughed, his face relaxed and unguarded. He smiled happily at me as if caught up in the memory behind the picture.
“We were on our way back from a show in Arizona. I can’t even remember the town, some little shit hole we’d stopped in. I’d run out of diapers for the little man. The horse was outside so I snapped a shot of the two of them together. Can you believe Clyde’s smiling?’
It was an unheard of phenomenon. It was probably a strange coincidence that he’d actually smiled at me today also. “You have the proof,” I retorted, thinking of Clyde and of the idea of him dating my mom.
Yuck! It was so weird to imagine my mom with Clyde. Personality wise, they were so different from one another — night and day. I’d always thought Clyde to be a judgmental, self- righteous prick, and well, my mom, she was hardworking, sweet, and actually fun to be around. The reality of the two of them together boggled the mind. “How long has Clyde been seeing my mother?”
Devon looked slightly sheepish and then turned from me setting the container of chicken and rice on the nightstand. He handed me a beer. “Almost two years,” he stated, silently gauging my reaction as if waiting for me to explode, but I remained silent. I couldn’t believe my mother had never once mentioned Clyde to me over the past two years. She was better than Addie at keeping secrets. They should both work for the FBI.
“Kara, I know how you feel about Clyde, but he only did what I asked.” Devon said.
At those words, a sharp pain pierced my heart taking me back to one of the worst days of my life. Sipping my beer, I stared at him silently thinking. All these years we’d wasted, and I was still clueless and in the dark. Clyde had done as he’d asked, but it was confusing to me as to how he could just send me away when, once upon a time, he’d loved me more than anything. During our time apart, a piece of my soul had been missing. I was incomplete; and only Devon made me feel whole.
His eyes shifted from mine as he twisted around to sit his beer on the nightstand. “How could you send me away, Devon?” I finally asked the question that had been the proverbial elephant in the room all evening. I’d heard Clyde’s explanation. Now, I wanted his.
He lowered his head, his shoulders hunched forward. His long muscular legs were bent. The sole of his foot touched the inside of his thigh. He was masculine perf
ection crafted of smooth lines and defined muscles. His biceps flexed, drawing my attention to the tattoos on his skin as he ran a thoughtful hand through his hair. With a sigh, he raised his head. His eyes met mine.
“I had to set you free, Kara.” He simply stated as if all the hurt and pain I’d suffered through at his desertion should make sense with those seven little words. Set me free. He’d crushed my soul by doing the very thing he’d thought he had no other choice but to do.
I pushed the album to the side, crawled toward him, and settled onto his lap, resting my knees against his lean hips. His hands automatically gripped my waist. Mine rested on his chest. His skin was warm beneath my palms. Devon was crazy if he thought I’d let him off the hook with that weak ass explanation. I would poke and prod until he either pushed me away or let me in. I wasn’t making the same mistake twice with him.
His fingertips softly strummed my skin making me want to cry at the unfairness of it all. “You didn’t have to do anything, Devon.” I whispered as his gaze lifted to meet mine. “You broke my heart.” I told him, and at my words, his expression grew solemn.
“I broke my own too, but I didn’t want to hold you back. I had four days to think about our future, about how my life had drastically changed, and how much of a burden I would be to you. I would have, Kara. I would have been a greedy son of a bitch and kept you here, but I wanted you to have the chance for something more.” He stated, his voice pleading his sincerity. “Something more than being trapped here in Crawley. Something more than me. I didn’t even know if I would walk again. I had a ten percent chance… a fucking ten percent was what that asshole of a doctor told me. He said I had to accept and come to terms with my condition. Fuck him,” he declared, his chest heaving with emotion. His eyes searched mine and then glanced away to stare at the wall as if he’d revealed too much of himself to me. “I thought I’d be stuck in that damn bed for the rest of my life. I couldn’t do that to you. I wouldn’t.”