by Koko Brown
“What do you want, Devin?” she asked, attempting to expedite her escape.
He walked over to her and for the first time, Gemma noticed the clothes in his hands. And they were promptly forgotten when she got a whiff of him. The clean, just washed scent of his skin was intoxicating, kick-starting her libido.
“Do you think this shirt goes with this suit?” He held up a pink dress shirt against a gray suit.
“Where are you going?” It wasn’t any of her business, but Gemma couldn’t think of any professional engagements planned for tonight. Unless…he was going on a date. The thought of him in another woman’s company made her stomach knot.
“Butler set up a double date. He’s really into this lark, but she wouldn’t go out with him alone. So he enlisted me to be his wingman.”
“How old is she, twelve?” Gemma didn’t mean to be catty, but the thought of him going on a date made her claws extend.
Devin smiled and his impossibly green eyes wrinkled at the corners. “Just turned nineteen and already a supermodel.”
Slammed by the green-eyed monster, Gemma hands curled into fists. She had a sudden urge to strike out at something. “Is the slag…ah…is the other girl a supermodel?”
“Birds of a feather flock together.”
“Way to take one for the team,” Gemma stepped forward, hand raised for a high five. Devin moved to reciprocate, and she stepped back at the last minute, leaving him hanging. Yes, she was being petty but she just couldn’t dredge up any excitement about his going out with another woman: beautiful, ugly, skinny, fat or otherwise. Even worse, what if he broke his promise and brought someone home?
“Is MI5 finished with fortifying my flat?”
Oblivious to her intentions, Devin chuckled. “I think they said they’d be done in a week. After that, M16 needs to make a sweep.”
Gemma nibbled her bottom lip. “So…by the end of next week, I’ll be out of your hair.”
His smile slowly faded. “You don’t have to leave, Gemma. You’re not a bother. I sort of like having you around.”
Then why are you going out with another woman? “It’s been fun as well. But I’m your agent and you’re a single man who needs his privacy.”
Devin’s eyes narrowed. “I won’t go if you don’t want me to.”
Damn! He could always read her like a book.
“Go on your date, Devin. It’ll be great for your image.” And a detriment to her well-being. Gemma pivoted on her heel. She walked to the door, but back pedaled. “By the way, the shirt and suit look great together.”
Chapter Seven
“What’s up, mate!” Butler greeted Devin with a fist bump followed by a pat on the back. “I was this close to thinking you’d bailed.”
“My bad,” Devin mumbled. “Traffic was pretty hairy.” Not really, but it was better than saying he’d purposely dragged his feet and intentionally took the long route.
Butler waved off Devin’s half-hearted apology. “No worries,” then as if remembering they had company, he turned around, “let me introduce you to the girls.”
And they were just that, Devin mused, his eyes drifting over the two teenagers. Tall, and waif-like, they looked barely out of the cradle. And yet, there was nothing childish about the way they eyed him up and down. Butler believed he had an innocent on his hands. Devin surmised otherwise. In all his years, dating models, he’d never met one yet who wasn’t already jaded by the time they’d turned eighteen.
“This is Jagger,” Butler wrapped his arm around a leggy brunette with heavily lined violet eyes, “and this beautiful lark here is Pita.”
“Petra,” the blonde corrected. While his teammate simply grinned beneath the girl’s withering look, Devin checked her out. She was gorgeous, but her body hadn’t progressed beyond the age of nine. Devoid of womanly curves, her flat chest and boyish hips left him cold.
“Ah…right. Sorry about that. Petra, Devin…Devin, Petra.”
Devin held out his hand, but to his surprise his date skipped the formalities.
“This is so bananas!” she gushed, wrapping herself around him like a kudzu. “You are my absolute favorite footie.”
Her boney hip bumped against his groin and Devin winced. Blimey! The lark needed to fatten up. “It’s always nice to meet a fan.”
“Oh, I’m more than a fan…at least I want to be.” She angled a little closer as if moving in for a kiss. “How about you and I get outta here?”
Eyeing her thin lips, reminiscent of two slices of pink bologna, Devin balked.
“How about not.” Unable to take anymore, and not wanting to give mixed signals, he tugged on her wrists. “Is our table ready?” The sooner he got out of here, the quicker he could get back to Gemma.
“We’re VIP, mate. Our table is always ready.” With Jagger in tow, Butler led them inside La Tripoli, one of Mayfair’s hippest restaurants.
“This place is so fleek, its bananas!” she exclaimed. “When Jagger said we’d be dining here, I went—”
“Let me guess…bananas?”
The girl’s jaw dropped as if he’d just discovered the theory of relativity. “Bananas how you did that,” she whispered.
Devin looked away before rolling his eyes heavenward. Still, he didn’t abandon ship quite yet.
“I’m thirsty. What does a girl have to do to get a drink around here?” Pouting, Petra picked up the leather drink menu, plopped it between them and perused it with interest. “I’ll think I’ll have a Shirley Temple. What about you?”
Devin didn’t bother looking at the menu. He was pilfering his inside suit pocket for his cell. Always on vibrate, because it practically rang 24/7, his phone was lit up with an incoming call. His mother’s smiling face beamed at him.
“If you would excuse me, I really need to get this. This free agency business is keeping me on my toes.” Before they could object or pardon him, Devin shuttled himself into the nearest corner.
“You’re a life saver, Mum.” Affecting a serious expression, he pretended to carry on a conversation.
“Why is that?” Kate Spencer asked.
“On a date, playing wingman tonight for one of my teammates.”
“Let me guess, two blokes on a date with a couple of supermodels.”
“Am I that transparent?” Cognizant he was being watched, he started to pace.
His mother chuckled. “I know my son.”
“I’m mildly insulted, but I forgive you because you just saved me from a felony.”
“That bad?”
“Bananas.” Devin cringed. He had to get out of here. “So what’s up?”
“Just wondering how my baby’s doing and if you’ve inked a new contract.”
Devin rubbed his nape. The whole world, including his mother seemed to be obsessed with his next move.
“Nothing yet.” When met with silence, Devin continued, “But don’t worry, Mum. My new agent is the best.”
“I sure hope so,” his mother’s voice took on a note of concern. “Your entire future’s on the line.”
“If things get too desperate, I’ll be sure to offer my firstborn.” Even though Devin had invested wisely and was set for life, his mother always predicted doom and gloom.
“About that community service, do you think pulling weeds would count? My garden is so overgrown.”
“Doubt that would qualify. It’s called community service not family support for a reason.” Before she could turn him into her private gardener, he hurried her off the phone.
Sporting a remorseful expression, Devin returned to the table, but didn’t sit down.
Butler’s eyes narrowed. “Going somewhere?”
“Hate to babysit and run, but my agent wants to go over some additional riders for my contract.”
“Your agent needs you tonight?” Butler flipped his wrist, checking the time on his watch. “It’s almost nine o’clock. If your agent is bothering you at this late hour, you need to fire her.”
Devin noted the slight
quirk playing around Butler’s lips. The bloke was busting his balls. “Can’t be helped. Girls, it was a pleasure.”
“Maybe we could meet up later,” Petra offered, but Devin was already half way across the room.
***
Gemma set the cookies on the stovetop to cool. Depressed by the thought of Devin with another woman, she’d walked to the corner store and bought chocolate-chip cookie dough. She planned on spending the remainder of her evening reading Devin’s contract while drowning her sorrows in a tall glass of cold milk and fresh baked cookies.
Eager to dig in, she went in search of a spatula, opening several kitchen drawers. “Bingo,” she whispered finally locating a mother lode of cooking utensils next to the utility sink.
She’d just finished placing the last cookie on a plate when the front door opened. Tie loosened, yet still looking like a million bucks, Devin sauntered into the kitchen. Hands shoved into his trouser pockets, he made her temperature skyrocket.
“That was quick.” Gemma glanced at her watch, using the brief respite to recover from how off her game he made her feel. “You’ve been gone less than an hour. Did the restaurant run out of food? Date stand you up?” Gemma hoped the latter.
Devin leaned against the kitchen counter. “She showed up. I left before I placed my order.”
“Poor girl,” Gemma murmured, and yet not feeling the least bit sorry for the lark he’d left behind in the restaurant. She wanted Devin home with her. Now he was here, what was she going to do with him? A dozen fantasies ran through her head, half of them featured her on top, cowgirl-style, but she nixed them all. There were boundaries to consider.
Since all was now right with her world, Gemma plucked three cookies from the plate and handed him only one. It wasn’t a high carb day and she didn’t want to ruin his diet.
“Aren’t you going to ask why I came home early?”
Heart racing, Gemma poured them each a glass of milk. She wanted to ask, but was deathly afraid of the answer. If he said he’d come home to be with her, she’d probably go up in flames. She was already finding it difficult to breathe with him standing so close—all perfect and unbelievably gorgeous.
“Isn’t necessary,” she responded evasively. Snack in hand, Gemma retreated toward the living room. As she passed, Devin stepped forward pushing her into the island.
“Ask me why I came home early.” Barely above a whisper, his voice flowed over her in a seductive rhythm. The air left her lungs in a rush. Before he made her drop her cookies, Gemma set them and her glass of milk on the counter behind her.
“Since you insist, why are you here?”
He curved his hand around her neck and pulled her against him. His chest and abs felt like chiseled granite. Her nipples immediately hardened and every argument against this happening flew out the window with her common sense.
“All I could think about was you,” he murmured. “The way you laugh at my obnoxious jokes. How you reprimand me for watching too much reality TV. Despite everything, I know you have my back.”
His nose slid along her jaw to her ear and the sudden ache between her legs had her clutching the granite counter top. “I came home early because all I could think about was making love to you.”
Gemma groaned. She’d never been so aroused in her life. A shiver ran through her as she imagined herself beneath him while his cock pulsed inside her.
“Devin we can’t do this.”
His mouth brushed the shell of her ear. His warm breath danced along her feverish skin, spurring her desire. He pressed closer, wedging the thick ridge against her butt, and every cell in her body surged toward him, her DNA ready and willing to join with his.
“But we are.” Before she could object, he angled his head and crushed his mouth against hers.
It was a demanding kiss, one that commanded a response. Gemma pushed her fingers in his hair and pulled on the short strands as she moved her mouth under his. When he groaned, her tongue dipped inside, tasting him. Gemma’s toes curled. He tasted oh so good.
He pushed away from the kitchen island, bringing her with him. “I’m going to have you, Gemma. In every possible way.” He cupped her buttocks and lifted her. Without any coercion, she wrapped her legs around his waist. As he carried her to the bedroom, she stripped him of his suit jacket, tie and dress shirt. Her tank-top and bra followed, leaving a tangled trail of clothes in the hallway.
“Damn, Gemma.” Groaning, Devin slid his tongue between her breasts. “We’re not leaving this room for at least three days.”
“You’re on.” Her body had ached for him for almost a decade. In all honesty, three days probably wouldn’t be enough.
Devin leaned forward slightly, and then the mattress was against her back. Supported by his elbows, he hovered over her, his gaze searing into hers while his fingers undid the button of her jeans.
“You’re so beautiful,” he rasped and then slowly kissed and licked a scorching trail down her body. He landed on his knees at the foot of the bed, her jeans and panties in his hands. In quick order, he shimmied them down her legs and tossed them aside. Eyes zeroed in on her sex, he gripped her calves and pulled her toward him.
Legs spread and thrown over his shoulders, Gemma stared at the ceiling. When he finally touched her, his mouth exerting only the slightest pressure, she was startled. It was in direct contrast to his aggressive kisses. Almost reverent, his tongue slid along her core, tasting her in leisurely licks.
Gemma’s eyes drifted shut and she became acutely aware of her body. Her skin was flushed and feverish. Wherever he touched, licked or stroked, an electrifying sensation swept over her.
“Devin.” She shoveled her fingers in his hair, gripping the shorn strands, holding him in place. “You’re turning me inside out!”
He pushed back onto the balls of his feet.
“Devin, I…” She finished on a gasp as he pushed a finger inside her. Panting, Gemma clutched the top sheet, balling it in her fists and tugging it loose.
“Finally mine,” he said, pumping into her. Mouth open, slurping in much needed oxygen, Gemma arched off the bed. “How long has it been for you?”
Her cheeks bloomed with embarrassment. “W-why?”
“Morbid curiosity.” He pushed a second digit into her. Moaning, she clenched around him. “Tell me, Gemma or I’ll stop.”
What a wicked, wicked man! Still in spite of his insanely talented hands, mouth and tongue, Gemma hesitated. She didn’t want him to think she was some weirdo who’d only been with one man, especially when he’d been with so many others.
“Come on, Gemma, tell me.”
She remained staunchly silent.
“Do you want me to stop?” His tongue flicked her clit, strummed it, while he worked his fingers in rhythmic strokes.
Panting, Gemma shook her head. She’d take her secret to the grave.
He had other ideas. Wiping at his mouth, Devin stood up.
“Wh-what are you doing?”
“I warned you.” Hands caressing his stomach, he pivoted toward the door. “I’ve worked up an appetite. I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me.”
Frantic, Gemma reached for him. “Wait! I haven’t been with anyone since you.”
He turned around slowly. “You jest?”
Gemma shook her head.
To her relief he walked over to the bed and gathered her in his arms. “Why not?”
He felt so good, Gemma snuggled closer. “There was university, followed by grad school, then moving to London and finding a job. I’ve been so focused on my career, I haven’t had the time.”
“And there haven’t been any other blokes?”
“I didn’t say that.” His arms flexed around her, causing her to catch her breath. Just desserts, she mused for manipulating her.
“And no one sealed the deal?”
“No one,” she muttered. Wrapped up in her very own pity party, Gemma barely noticed when he rolled her onto her back. Embarrassed, she moved to pull away from
him, but he pinned her hips to the bed.
“Where are you going?”
“To the bathroom, to have a meltdown for being such a loser.”
“Then you won’t be able to make up for what you’ve missed.”
“What I’ve missed?” Had he put two and two together and come to the conclusion none of the other men had measured up to him?
He touched her cheek lightly with the back of his fingers. “I’m going to give you so much cock you’re going to beg me to leave this room.”
Gemma’s sex clenched. “Kiss me,” she whispered, because she couldn’t take it anymore.
“Where?” His voice was hushed, his mouth only inches away from hers.
His wicked ways must have rubbed off on her, because she lowered her gaze to a point below the waist. “There.”
His breath feathered lightly across her lips and hard, insistent desire pounded on her brain. Thankfully, she didn’t have to spell it out for him. He shimmied down her body and settled between her legs.
“Here?” he asked with an impudent lift of his brow.
Gemma’s breath altered. How did he do it? Ooze sex by uttering a single word? It was as if he’d stroked her skin, her senses, and her libido all at the same time.
“Bingo,” she breathed already susceptible to an orgasm.
His tongue speared into her and a sweet, yet agonizing pleasure coiled in Gemma’s belly. With the pad of his thumb, he circled the bud at the top of her sex once, twice. The tension increased, her lungs constricted and her blood ran thick and heavy in her veins. She gasped once for air then arched off the bed as a cry exploded from her lips.
Moments later, panting and breaking a sweat, she pushed her hands into his hair, sparking static, completely destroying his well-groomed slick back. She grasped the stick-straight strands between her knuckles and shamelessly circled her sex into his greedy mouth and thrusting fingers. His hands, tongue and mouth answered in kind, working her body, overloading her senses.
“I’m going to come,” she warned, her breathing a harsh, raspy staccato.
“Don’t hold anything back. I want you to scream.”