“Get out of here, Devin. Or else I’ll have to call the police, and I really don’t want to do that,” Mr. Wilson said.
Devin looked at the man, who was friends with his father. He didn’t regret hitting Tony, but did regret causing a scene in front of Mr. Wilson’s establishment. “I’m sorry, Mr. Wilson.” He glared at Tony. “I’m not through with you.”
Tony straightened his clothes and wiped at his shoulders. “You know how to find me, playa.”
Mr. Wilson patted his arm and Devin turned away. He fired up his truck and left skid marks in his haste to leave the parking lot. This entire situation would be the talk of the town. Even though she wasn’t here, those who knew their history would assume the fight was over Shayla. And knowing Tony, he’d hype up the situation to all of his friends. Tony may not have had any intentions of going for Shayla before, but Devin’s warning would change that.
“Stupid!” Devin said, slamming his hand against his steering wheel. Tony had hated on Devin and Shayla’s friendship all through high school. It was only because Shayla preferred Devin. If she would have fawned over Tony the same way Peaches and the other girls had, he wouldn’t have given her the time of day. But because she didn’t want him, he’d wanted her. He should have known that Tony would have found a dirty way to come between him and Shayla.
Without thinking, his foot pushed on the pedal and he headed toward the interstate. He was going to get her. He knew exactly where the art show was, since he’d turned down the invitation mailed to him. He’d liked Tyrell Crawford when the man came to town. He seemed to be down to earth and likable when they’d met, but just the idea of Shayla possibly trying to hook up with him made Devin want to cause the man physical harm.
His fight with Tony would give the gossips all they needed to link him with Shayla. And, dammit, if they were going to do it then it might as well be true. He’d waited years for them to be together, and his patience had run out. By the time the sun rose he would convince Shayla that openly acknowledging what was between them was worth fighting for.
Chapter 20
Shayla slid through the thick crowd of people admiring the artwork displayed on the unfinished walls of 701 Whaley Street. Although she’d been out of the Columbia area for years, she recognized enough faces to know that 701 Whaley was the “it” place for everything from parties to art exhibits. A show of this magnitude brought out the who’s who of the city. The mayor, local elected officials, and editors of local art magazines all mingled in the crowd. The open beam ceiling and rough walls of the refurbished building did have a charm that only enhanced the art.
Despite coming by herself, she didn’t feel out of place. She was there to admire the paintings, and escape her mom and aunt’s happiness about Kia’s date with Devin. She’d worked hard to make sure she looked stunning. Her one shoulder black, silver, and blue sequined dress stopped mid thigh and fit her body like a glove. Five-inch glitter silver sling backs elongated her shapely legs. She’d spent an hour flat ironing her hair to perfection so it hung bone straight to her shoulders. All outward armor to prove Devin and Kia didn’t matter.
She caught the eye of a young man in a suit too big for his small frame and dark freckles across his pecan complexion. He’d been admiring her legs all night. Before he could head her way she lifted her eyebrow and gave him her best “don’t even think about it” look before turning away. She’d like to think that he was only admiring her because she looked good. But he’d also had a whispered conversation with a reporter who recognized her from the scandal in Atlanta. Both men had shared plenty of chuckles while gazing at her before Freckles decided to follow her around the room.
A waiter dressed in a tight black t-shirt and white jeans passed by carrying a tray of champagne. He paused and held out the tray for her, but she declined. After the fiasco at Club Voracious she’d decided to forgo alcohol. Even though she was dying to forget the fact that at this very moment Devin and Kia were probably laughing and having a great time on their date.
“Please don’t tell me my painting is the reason for the frown on your face,” a deep voice said from behind.
Shayla turned around and recognized Tyrell Crawford from his picture by the door. He’d spent most of the evening going through the crowd and talking. She’d purposefully stayed on the opposite side of the room from him. The last thing she needed or wanted was to be linked to a high profile married man.
The man was good looking. Midnight black skin encased a slim, but toned body, and dark eyes stared from beneath thick lashes. His hair was twisted into short locks, which surprised her since his hair was closely cut in all of his pictures. He was dressed casually in a pale blue button up and khaki pants; if he weren’t the artist, she’d assume his casual appearance would look out of place. On him it worked.
He walked over to stand beside her and motioned to the painting. “I’ll admit it’s not my favorite, but it shouldn’t cause scowls.”
He made a face of mock terror that brought a smile to Shayla’s lips. “Fear not, your painting had nothing to do with my frown.”
She turned back to the painting. It was a beach scene, as seen through the window of what appeared to be a seaside home. In the distance there was the silhouette of a woman lying on her side on a beach towel. Her back faced the artist; the sun reflecting off chocolate skin. There wasn’t a hint of the cynicism in this painting that she’d seen in the others. She’d spent most of the night coming back to it trying to find something.
She turned to Tyrell. “I will admit it has me puzzled.”
He crossed his arms and leaned back on his heels. “I’d love to hear why.”
Cocking her head to the side, Shayla looked back at the painting. “It’s happy.”
“Everyone here thinks my pictures are happy.”
She shrugged. “Everyone here is probably on uppers.” She froze and turned back to him. “Sorry, that was callous.”
He waved a hand and leaned forward. “And probably true, to some extent.” He said with a smile before pointing to the painting. “So tell me why this one is happy and the others aren’t.”
Shayla motioned to the painting. “There’s nothing hidden in the background, that I can see, which shows the underlying hypocrisy of the world. All of your other paintings show what people want to see in small town America, but you sneak in the story behind that picturesque scene. The fakeness of it all.”
His dark gazed bore into her. She tried not to appear unnerved and met his gaze dead on. “Do you have a problem with that? The hypocrisy I show in my other paintings?”
She frowned. “Why would I? It’s true. It’s life.”
He nodded slowly. “True, but most people call me a cynic for adding that to my landscapes.”
Shayla sighed and looked back at the painting. “Most people go through life pretending as if unhappiness didn’t exist.”
Again he studied her before saying. “I paint these scenes to show that outside perfection often hides inner turmoil. I’ve found people either love it or hate it.”
Shayla looked around the crowded room. “I’d say most people love it.”
He shrugged. “They love to see a senator’s son-in-law indulge in his little art hobby.” He leaned in and smiled. “Behind their wine glasses they’re calling me a skeptic. They’re trying to figure out why I paint such unhappy pictures when I live such a wonderful life.”
Shayla returned his smile. “I’d gather from these paintings your life isn’t as wonderful as they all believe.”
He gasped with mock horror. “Are you implying I don’t love my charmed life?”
Shayla bit her lip and really looked at him. He was smiling, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. There were small lines around his mouth, proof he used to laugh a lot, but now his smiled was guarded. He was someone used to holding his feelings in check. Someone who used their face as a mask.
“Let’s just say I recognize a kindred spirit,” she said.
His eyes traveled
over her and he shook his head. “I thought I recognized something special about you.”
His perusal sent an unwelcome shiver down her spine. As much as she was enjoying their conversation, it was time to pump the brakes. She wasn’t about to go back down the road of mistress to a politician. “There’s nothing special about me.” She took a small step back. “The kindred spirit comment was just a joke.”
He threw back his head and laughed. A few people next to them turned, surprise evident on their faces. When he stopped, he held up his left hand. “There’s no hidden meaning behind my words. I’m married, unhappily maybe, but married.”
She didn’t relax. “I’ve heard that line before.”
“I’m sure you have, and while I won’t lie and say I’m not flattered that you thought I was hitting on you, I will have to set the record straight.” All humor left his eyes. “As much as I hate pretending to live the life of a happily married politician’s son, I can’t afford to embarrass my daughter.” He stared back at the beach scene. “She’s the reason I stay. The reason I play the game.”
The sincerity and pain in his voice hit her. She’d had every slick man in Atlanta try to run game on her. Unfortunately, she fell for the game of the wrong one, but for some reason she believed Tyrell. She knew what it was like, to smile on the outside and want to die on the inside. She’d done it for years.
“It sucks doesn’t it? To experience happiness but know you’ll never have it?”
He grabbed two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter and handed one to her. “At least we knew it for a few stolen moments.” He stared wistfully at the painting.
Shayla looked at the profile of the woman in the painting and then back at Tyrell. “Is that her? The one who made you happy?”
He downed his champagne in one swallow. “Yes. That’s why this one is happy. I painted it years ago.”
“Why isn’t it one of your favorites?”
His eyes met hers. “Because it’s too painful to look at. Hopefully someone will buy the damn thing tonight.”
Her lips lifted in a soft smile. She liked him. Not in a sexual way, but as a potential friend. If she were dumb enough to befriend a high profile man. He smiled back before he looked over her shoulder. His smile quickly changed. Became tighter around the corners and the warmth in his eyes disappeared. The game was back on.
At the same time her scalp prickled. Someone watched her. When she turned around her gaze collided with Devin’s across the room. The desire, anger and frustration in his eyes zeroed in on her, sucking the air from her lungs and causing her to forget everyone else around them. His hunger called to her, and for the life of her she couldn’t remember why she continued to fight her need.
“It looks as if your happiness has arrived.” Tyrell spoke, jerking her from her spell.
She blinked rapidly to clear her mind. When she looked at Tyrell he smiled. “From the looks he’s shooting my way, I’d better make a quick exit. Have a good night . . . ” he held out his hand and lifted an eyebrow.
“Shayla,” she said shaking his hand.
“Goodnight, Shayla.” He dipped his head and glided away.
She turned back to Devin. Her stomach quivered as he crossed the room. His eyes never left hers and she didn’t know whether to run or stay. One hand clenched the champagne flute, the other tapped against her leg as he stalked toward her.
When he was in front of her she couldn’t speak. She stared into his eyes, the gold flashed dangerously within their depths. His warmth and scent surrounded her. A woodsy mix of bodywash and him.
Instead of being frightened, or upset by his anger, she was turned on. Her breathing hitched as anticipation danced across her skin.
“Are you here for him?” his voice was low, but urgent.
She quickly shook her head. “No.”
Relief flashed in his eyes, but the frustration and desire remained. “I’m not tap dancing around this anymore.” He stepped close enough for her breasts to brush against his chest. She gasped at the touch. “We’re leaving.”
She swallowed. “Where are we going?”
“Somewhere with a bed.” He held out his hand.
If she went she betrayed her cousin. She would prove to everyone she was the selfish whore they all considered her to be. Her mom would hate her. The blissful peacefulness she’d found in Helena would be shattered.
But if she didn’t go, she’d betray herself. And if he was here instead of with Kia, that had to mean the date had been brief. She hated herself for hoping it had been a disaster.
She placed her hand in his. When his warm fingers wrapped around hers she wanted to cry with happiness. Instead she lowered her eyes so he wouldn’t see how ecstatic she was and let him lead her out of the building.
Chapter 21
Shayla didn’t remember what happened between Devin leading her from the art show to him walking her into a room at the Marriot downtown. Frankly, she didn’t care about any of that when he pulled her against him and closed the door behind them. He walked backward toward the bed. One hand held firmly but gently onto her waist, the other cupped her face. His gaze held hers captive, his brown eyes lighter with the fire of his desire.
He stopped when the backs of his legs bumped into the bed. The hand on her cheek moved to run through her hair. Each individual strand tugging against her scalp sent an answering jolt of anticipation through her. It was hard to breath, her breasts were heavy, and the liquid proof of her desire dampened her panties.
He slowly pulled her head forward until their lips met. All of the craving and frustration she’d held in check for the past few weeks rushed to the surface. Instantly, her hands were up and diving into the soft curls on his head.
She pulled back, her hands still running through his hair. “When was your last haircut?”
“Not since you mentioned liking it longer.”
Her heart constricted. No declaration or love or flowery phrases would have made her forget all of the repercussions of this night like those simple words. The extra hair on his head was a far cry from the afro she braided in high school, but it still lent him a more relaxed air. The soft tresses on her fingers were as much of an aphrodisiac to her now as it had been then.
She opened her mouth to tell him she loved him. The words were on the tip of her tongue, but for all of Devin’s promises that he wanted to be with her, he hadn’t said for how long, or that he felt the same.
“I love it,” she said instead. His lips spread into a grin. The fullness of the lower one set her insides on fire. She twisted her hands in his hair. “It’s sexy.”
He pushed her back just enough to let his approving gaze roam over her body. “Not as sexy as you are in that dress.”
“Wait until I’m out of it.”
He pulled her back against his hard body, his demanding mouth taking claim of hers. She met his hard kiss head on, delighted by same urgency in him. The cool air in the room teased her back as he unzipped her dress. She shivered from the shocking heat of his wide hand as it dove beneath the fabric to gently massage the taut muscles in her back.
His lips stayed on hers and his other hand left the thick tresses of her hair to push down the one strap of her dress. She had to drop her hands from his head to let it fall, but quickly returned them to their exploration as soon as it hit the floor. His powerful arms engulfed her in a hug as he continued to kiss her. Her senses were inflamed; the protective gesture combined with his kiss sending her over the edge. His thick erection pressed heavily against her belly, but that wasn’t where she wanted it. She wrapped a leg around his waist, getting his hardness closer to her dripping wet center.
In a flash, he spun her around until her knees were against the back of the bed. He broke the kiss and Shayla stared at him in a daze. He slowly turned her back to him and unfastened her strapless bra. She sighed in pleasure when her breasts were released from the confines, and again when his strong hands kneaded the throbbing flesh. He gently brushed her erect
nipples, sending another torrent of desire flowing between her thighs. His fingertips danced across the oversensitive skin of her belly to the top of her thong. His forefingers hooked into the edges of the skimpy material before continuing his slow descent down her body. After she stepped out of the underwear, he pressed a soft kiss the dip in her back just above her butt before standing and turning her to face him.
“You’re so beautiful, Shayla.”
Goose pimples shivered across her skin. She wanted him. Not just tonight, and not just physically, but she wanted Devin Jones to belong to her. It was a silly dream, one that would alienate her from everyone in her family for years if it came true, but when he looked at her as if she were the most wonderful treasure in the world, it all seemed worth it.
Without a word, she reached out and pulled the bottom of his sweater up and over his head. She ran her hands across his sinewy frame, delighting in the way his body jerked and his breathing caught whenever she dragged her nails across his golden flesh. Lowering her head she kissed the center of his chest, the light brushing of hair tickling her lips. His hands smoothed the curtain of her hair away from her face as she traced her tongue from one of his hard nipples to the other. Lightly flicking the pink tip across each one until his breathing became haggard. She took her time to suck one flat nipple while her hands busied themselves with unbuttoning his pants. She didn’t waste any time pushing them down his trim waist.
She looked at his wonderful dick. Long, thick, and dripping with his desire. Slowly, she lowered to her knees hoping he wouldn’t stop her as he had before. Instead, he pulled her hair back and held it in one hand at the base of her neck. Without hesitation, she took the swollen head into her mouth. His precum was sweet, like the pineapple he loved, and she couldn’t get enough of it. She pulled him deep within her mouth. Then slowly worked her way back up to the blunt head where she sucked out more evidence of his desire, before repeating the motion. He worked his hips back and forth, making love to her mouth and causing her own body to thrum with desire. Her excitement flowed down her leg, and with each thrust she grew more aroused as she imagined him doing the same within her.
Hearts Are Wild Page 16