Silver-Tongued Devil (Portland Devils Book 1)

by Rosalind James

  No escape. Nowhere to go but here, nothing to feel but this. Her head was down, her hair in her face, and she was on her elbows now, her face buried in her hands, all of her reduced to him inside her, to his hand on her. To the need that was pulling her up, twisting her tight. She was biting her hand, and all she could hear was Blake’s breath. And he was making some noise, too. She heard it, but dimly, because the concentric circles of pleasure were closing in on her, focusing more and more, and then the waves began to hit.

  He seemed to have grown inside her, and he was gasping now, both his hands going to her hips, his fingers digging in, pulling her back into him as if he couldn’t get close enough.

  More and more. Deeper and harder, until he was groaning out her name, jerking against her, yanking her back so hard. And she knew he was as lost as she was. He was all the way gone.

  Blake got rid of the condom as fast as he could, hating that he had to move at all. Dakota hadn’t, or barely. She was still on her knees, her face buried in her hands, and he felt a sickening lurch of fear straight to the gut.

  He moved over her again, propping himself on an elbow, pulling her hair back from her face with a hand that insisted on shaking. Maybe from one of the most intense orgasms he’d ever experienced, and maybe from something else.

  “Hey, baby.” He kissed her cheek, then rolled her with him so she was on her side and he was wrapped around her. “How about talking to me? You all right? Was I too rough?”

  Idiot, he was yelling at himself. Insensitive jerk. She’d told him about one of the most horrific things that could happen to a woman, and what had he done? Had he laid her down and loved her with the kind of tenderness she needed, the kind she deserved? Not hardly. He’d started out OK. But after that? He’d gotten carried away.

  She rolled over to face him, and he put a hand out and stroked it over her shoulder, her arm. Smooth as silk, warm as honey. But her eyes were huge, her face somber, and his heart was going a mile a minute.

  And then she smiled. Slow, with a teasing edge to it. “You’re going to do all that to me, and then make me talk? Next time, boy, it’s going to be happening to you. You see if you can talk to me after you lose that many brain cells.”

  “Oh.” The relief punched into his chest, and he was grinning like a fool. He was running his hand up and down her back now, just because he could. Because she was here in his bed, naked, and he’d loved her right after all. “Well, good. You could say I had some stored-up frustration to work out. You could say that.”

  “Mm.” She had her hand on his shoulder, on his arm, like she wanted to feel him, too. “Because I was so attractive the first, oh, five or six times we were together. In my navy-blue swimsuit and my overalls.”

  “Doesn’t matter what wrapping you put on it. All that does is make me want to unwrap it more. Especially now that I know what’s underneath, because, darlin’, you have got about the most—ah—” He caught himself just in time. “… lovable body I’ve ever had the pleasure of taking over. And I did love taking it over.”

  She was smiling some more. “Oh, don’t wimp out on me now. That wasn’t the word you had in mind.”

  “I am a Southern gentleman,” he protested.

  “Oh, come on, Mr. Perfect. Let me hear it.”

  “Right.” He scowled. “You want me to tell you that you’re the most fuckable thing I’ve ever seen? There, I said it. Sounds bad. I told you.”

  She was laughing. “I’ll tell you a secret. When you say it, it works. Mr. Irresistible.”

  He was stroking the curve of her bottom now. It felt too good, so he did it again. “I’ll tell you something else, then, while I’m down here digging this hole for myself. You’ve got an ass like a Georgia peach, and I’ve been looking at since the first day I met you. Made my palms itch, and it still does. Know why I made you turn over?”

  “Because you like to do it that way? Because it gets you all excited to see me do what you tell me?” She was still teasing, still smug.

  He gave her a slap there. That was because he could, too. “You just keep talking, wild thing. Because I wanted to look at it, that’s why. And by the way—when you were wearing that little orange skirt at Russell’s that night?” He sighed. “Man, that about drove me wild.”

  “Mm. Very nice. You aren’t so bad yourself. I could catalogue a few body parts of yours that I enjoy, but I’m not going to. You’re conceited enough.”

  He touched the two small designs inked into her side. First one, then the other. He hadn’t suspected those, hidden away as they were just below her shoulder blade. “What are these, darlin’? These tattoos? That was a pretty little surprise.”

  Her smile vanished. “They’re doves. One for my grandma, and one for Riley. We did them at Riley’s funeral, and I just… I got them after that.”

  He could swear his heart actually throbbed. “Tell me.” She hesitated, and he said, “Please.”

  Silence for a few long seconds, then she said, “It was this… moment. When the bugler played ‘Taps,’ and the guy let them out of the cage. They flew up into the sky and away. Like Riley was still there, and he was free. I remember I lifted my arm. I couldn’t help it. Sending him on his way. Waving goodbye. I wanted to remember that moment.”

  That thing in his chest twisted again, and he touched the tattoos once more. Gently. Tiny birds in flight, less than an inch across. A talisman, and a promise. “That’s what these are, then. Letting them know you remember.”

  She looked into his eyes, there on the bed, their hands on each other, their hearts beating together, and said, “There’s a poem they read at a military funeral.” She took a moment while he waited, then said, her voice so soft, ‘They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old. Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn. At the going down of the sun and in the morning, we will remember them.’”

  “You are a beautiful woman,” he managed to get out through a throat tight with emotion. “And I’m crazy about you.”

  She got still, and then she pushed herself up to sit. “What time is it?”

  “What?” That had been her reaction? Why? “Uh…” He groped for his phone in his pants pocket. “Almost eleven.”

  “I should go home.”

  Somehow, she was slipping away. He was losing her. “You could stay,” he suggested. “Stay on the boat and sleep with me. It’s kinda nice, you know. Rocked on the waves.”

  “A shower. Brushing my teeth.”

  “Got some toothbrushes in a drawer. Got a shower, too. Tiny, but it’s there. And I’d dearly love you to stay.”

  She was looking at him so closely, but she wasn’t going to see anything there he didn’t want her to. There was nothing bad to see. “Go on,” he said. “Whatever it is. Say it.”

  “You don’t have to be a gentleman now,” she said. “I wanted to do this. I’ve wanted to do it since the first day I met you. I know you’re not a bad person. I trust you not to hurt me. I know you won’t talk about me.”

  All right. He was getting mad. “You know I’m not a bad person? Thank you very much. I tell you I’m crazy about you, and you say, thanks for the hookup?”

  She sighed. “Come on, Blake. I’m not stupid. Your life is completely different from mine. You’re dating other people. You told Evan so. No, I saw you doing it. I’m sure I don’t figure into your plans, and you don’t figure into mine, either. I’ve hurt enough in my life. I don’t need to go sticking my hand in the fire, searching for something that isn’t there.”

  She was groping around, looking for her thong, probably, and he was lost for words. “Wait. Dakota. Let’s… wait.”

  She turned to look at him, all her wariness back. “I’m waiting.”

  “Why can’t we have a… a relationship? Why the hell not?”

  She laughed. Laughed, and he was burning up. “You don’t want to have a relationship with me.”

  “I don’t?” He’d sat up now, too. “Maybe you should let me say what I want and don’t wa
nt. Maybe I know a little better than you do.” It wasn’t true, of course. He had no clue. But it sounded good.

  She crossed her arms under her pretty breasts, and that might have distracted him for a minute. Her hair was wild and tumbled, she was wearing nothing but that tiny silver heart, her legs were tucked to one side, and she was… well. She was something to look at.

  She said, “My eyes are up here.”

  “Oh. Sorry. Uh… what were we saying?”

  “You were telling me that you knew what you wanted.”

  “Oh. Right. Yeah. I do. I want you to spend the night with me. I want to go to sleep holding you, because it would feel so good. I want to wake up and make love to you again. I want to go to breakfast with you. I want to tell Russell that I’m dating his daughter, because she’s pretty damn special and I like her a whole lot. I want this whole town to know it, too. How’s that?”

  She seemed to be considering, and that was good. What she said next, though, wasn’t. “So you know. I have a life plan.”

  This time, he didn’t have any problem looking at her face. What? Did she know about his life plan? How? Why was she using that word, otherwise? For that matter—wait. What did he think about his life plan?

  She didn’t seem to notice that he was grappling in the weeds. She said, “So you know where I am—it’s this. Russell has about forty thousand left on the mortgage. If I can keep selling my glass all right, I can pay that off in three years. An extra thousand every month, and I can do it. If you can get him fixed up better, so he can… so he’s not hurting so much…” That one stopped her for a minute, but she went on. “I’ll appreciate it more than I’ve ever appreciated anything. After that, though, I’m paying off his mortgage, and I’m going. I’m going back to Portland, and I’m going to work on getting that life I want. I’m going to save for myself this time. I’m going to go to Costa Rica, even if I have to work my way there somehow. I’m going to hike in the rainforest and snorkel from the beach. I’m going to see dolphins. I’m going to see birds and animals and colors, and I’m going to make glass out of what I’ve seen. I’m going to have a life. And when I come back to Wild Horse…” That one hung her up for another moment. “When I come back to see Russell, I’m going to come back knowing I don’t have to stay. I’m going to have a name, even if it’s a little name. I’m going to come back knowing I’ve built my own life, and that it’s good. That I don’t need anybody here, and I don’t care what they think of me. Nobody but Russell and Evan.”

  His throat was dry. Wow. “And you can’t go out with me why?”

  “Oh. Huh.” She considered. “I guess I can. As long as I’m not stupid. As long as I’m not romantic.”

  Why didn’t that sound one bit good to him? “Sure you can. Besides, just think how it’ll stick in Melody’s craw.”

  She started to smile, and the hard moment passed. “Yeah. That’s a good one. Oh, yeah. Let me guess. She let you know she’d entertain your advances.”

  He laughed. He was completely confused, but still, she made him laugh. “Darlin’, you were born to be a Southern girl. Yes, she did. Just imagine when I take you to breakfast tomorrow, and when I can’t help but buy you some pretty new earrings, because your ears are so sexy. When I put diamonds in there, and she has to look at those diamonds and know they aren’t hers. Even if she was the head cheerleader and she has shiny hair.”

  “Blake Orbison,” she said, her arms crossed again, “are you offering to buy my honor?”

  “Nah, baby. I’m asking you to give me your time and your company. And I’m sure hoping you say yes. I’m hoping you say it quick, too, so I can crawl in this bed with you and hold you some more. There’s this place my hand wants to be while I fall asleep. I’ve waited this long for you. I don’t want to let you go.”

  She hesitated, and he said with a sigh, “We’re bargaining again. I knew it. Tell me.”

  “You’re not dating anybody else,” she said. “Nobody in Wild Horse, I mean. I’m not going to find out I was your…”

  Steve’s smug voice was right there in his head. Dakota’s used to being that side piece. There are girls you fuck and girls you marry, and she knows which one she is. He said, “No, I’m not dating anybody else, in Wild Horse or anywhere. And you’d better not be doing it either. I’m the jealous kind. It’s exclusive, or it’s nothing. And I’ve had quicker negotiations to buy a million-dollar property. I’m just saying.”

  “Well,” she said sweetly, “Melody’s probably still available.”

  He slapped a hand over his heart, fell onto his back, and groaned. “You got me. Come on, wild thing. I’ll find you a toothbrush. Anything. I want you in my bed, and I don’t care what I have to do to get it.”

  How was Dakota supposed to resist that? She couldn’t. And it didn’t matter anyway. She’d told him her plan. She’d laid it out as much for herself as for him. They were all clear.

  So she sent Russell a quick text and took her shower. And when she climbed into bed, Blake pulled her back against him, his arm came around her, his hand settled gently over her breast, and he sighed and said, “Yeah. Exactly what I had in mind. That’s just about perfect.”

  He was asleep in minutes, but she lay awake. The boat rocked gently in the water, lulling her into peace, and Blake was warm and solid behind her. Like a security… not even a blanket. A security wall. Which was nuts.

  He’d said he was crazy about her. That was nice. And her body was still humming, ticking over, letting her know that as well as he’d satisfied it, it wouldn’t mind doing it all again. It couldn’t wait to do it all again.

  That had just been talk about the diamonds, of course, but it was sure a satisfying image. She’d have given a lot to see Melody’s face. Not to mention Ingrid’s.

  It was all going to be fine. Good sex with a good man was something worth having, and if that man made you laugh and wanted to hold you close afterwards? That was even better. There was nothing wrong with taking something special when it offered itself to you, she told herself just before the lake and the darkness and Blake’s warm body soothed her into sleep. Not if you kept your mind and your priorities clear.

  She woke once in the night, and so did he. He made love to her again, soft and slow, and she let herself drift with it. And if she got some tears in her eyes at the gentleness of his hands, the tenderness of his kisses, the sweet words he whispered in her ear, telling her she was beautiful? That was all right. It was dark.

  When she woke again, he wasn’t there, and the boat was moving, the big engines rumbling soft and deep. She could have lain there and slept the whole way back. That noise was so soothing, and it was so dark and peaceful in the cabin. But she got up instead. It was Saturday morning, and she had work to do.

  Breakfast with Blake first, which was fine. But after that, work. She couldn’t paint his house this weekend, not with him there, and anyway, she was due to start a new glass piece. A poppy, all vibrant orangey-red petals and black center, bursting with color and life. Still sexy, but cheerfully sexy, if that was a thing. Sexy fun, like jumping off the rocks with Blake.

  And if being with him made her want to laze the day away instead? That was why she wasn’t going to do it, even if he wanted to. Bad habits. Dangerous patterns.

  Self-discipline. It was a thing.

  So she sat up and looked around, and found that her dress and thong were neatly folded on the narrow top of the teak storage unit along one wall, but there was something else there as well. A red Portland Devils T-shirt and a pair of his swim trunks. Navy blue.

  She had to laugh. He’d read her mind. She wouldn’t be glamorous, but that was nothing new. She put them on, pulled her hair back into a rough braid, and thought, How do you like me now?

  When she went up the ladder to the flying bridge, Blake was in his captain’s chair, dressed in his T-shirt and slacks from the night before, his feet propped up on a ledge, his ankles crossed, with one hand on the wheel and the other holding a coffee mug.

/>   “Well, good morning, baby,” he said. Dark morning stubble, white teeth, satisfied smile. He set down the mug, reached an arm out, and tugged her to him by the edge of her T-shirt, then pulled her into his lap. “Now, that’s what I’m talking about,” he said, wrapping his arm around her waist and giving her a slow, sweet kiss that got her tingling all the way to her toes.

  “You’re going to crash the boat,” she murmured against his mouth.

  “Nah. We’re idling, see? I pushed the button. I’m talented that way.”

  Oh. He was right. He went on, “You casting aspersions on my boat handling? You cut me to the bone, darlin’. That’s my manhood right there. Might as well tell me I’m not big enough where it counts, or say I slide to avoid the tackle. Them’s fightin’ words.” He had a sneaky hand up under the T-shirt, and when his hand settled over her breast, he sighed. “I’m just going to put in my vote here for the no-bra deal all the time, by the way. No bra, no underwear—that’d make my life a whole lot more interesting.”

  “Did I mention you talk a lot?” she said, and he laughed. “And if I should decide to dress solely for your pleasure, I’ll keep that in mind. Don’t count on it. That wouldn’t be too comfortable with overalls.” It wasn’t easy to be severe when you were leaning back against a man’s shoulder with your shirt pulled all the way up and his hand on your breast, but she did her best. “Oh.” She sucked in a breath as he got bolder. “That feels good.”

  “Mm.” He kissed her again, tasting hot and dark, like coffee and Blake. “Maybe I should drop that anchor again and take you below,” he murmured in her ear. “I can wait for my breakfast. Or I can start it with you.”

  “I should get home soon,” she said, her resolve weakening by the moment. “Get to… um… work. I’m way behind. Can anybody… ah…” She couldn’t help a moan as he lifted her with one arm, and his mouth went to her breast. “See us?”