* * * *
Charli wished he would look at her again, his eyes devouring the skin she displayed before him. She regretted that Dev closed her from his view, and she hated that she was weak and wanting enough to feel the lack.
“Hey, Charli, little brother and I were supposed to go skydiving today. Guess I’m going alone.” Making a face, he laughed. “Wanna go?” His expression showed that he thought she was chicken and wouldn’t dare come with him. Within moments, his face crept upward into a smirk almost daring her and warning in the same tug of lips and eyes.
Was this guy for real? He must have bumped his head. No way did she want to die young, turned into a freaking pancake, crushed under atmosphere and earth at high velocity. But the fact that she wanted to goad him made her think a moment. No way was she going to let him run her away from anything. Charli, however, had momentarily forgotten the crucial fact that she loved airplanes, loved flying. The feeling was similar to riding on a roller coaster, but it was so long it drove her crazy. By the end of a flight she was always ready to explode and would masturbate for hours afterward. Her response surprised even herself.
“Sure, today seems like a great day to die.” Charli smiled, and stood.
“I won’t let you die, Charli.” Deven winked at her and smacked her ass. “Now can I have breakfast?”
Charli narrowed her eyes and sauntered off, a bit of pep in her step. Once she started the pancake batter, the water she drank earlier reminded her she still hadn’t made it to the bathroom. She needed to go, and now was better than in the middle of preparing breakfast. If she burned anything, Deven was going to have more ammo to needle her already sorely tested patience with. Quick-stepping to the hall bath, Charli snatched the door open as she tugged the drawstring on her pants loose.
But the room was occupied by Deven, who just looked at her, unashamedly stroking himself like a pro. His back was to the wall, leaning against his shoulders, cock throbbing hard. Her mouth dried up to desert proportions. She had felt him before, but didn’t get to see much of him. His dick was huge, long enough to make her look way too long, almost thicker than her hand could fully span at the base. She watched him come, juices running down his grasping fingers to drip on his thighs. He just ogled her, Charli knew he saw her nervously gnaw her lower lip, and her mouth watered to taste him. The track her thoughts took forced her to back away as her eyes went wide, and his nostrils flared. She closed the door on her way out, breath heavy. Charli wasn’t disgusted by him, far from it, and with her helpless response to him, he had to know it too.
Charli found the single half bath, also downstairs just off the garage. She walked in the calming, minty-green-walled space, and sat on the toilet. The accidental show starring Deven had her nerves bad, and she needed to get herself together. Just sitting for a moment, she took deep breaths until she was calm. When she finally slowed her heart rate, she used the bathroom as originally intended. She wandered back toward the kitchen, not sure how to react. She had made him do that, take his pleasure alone. He wanted her, and she knew it as well as she knew her own name.
When she got in the kitchen, Deven had started without her. Her flapjack batter was cooking and already he used half the batter. She jumped in, starting fried apple compote. She covertly watched him work in her peripheral vision. Eventually, the two of them started competing. If she made an omelet, he’d make eggs Benedict. If she chopped a tomato salsa, he would make a mango one instead. By the time they were done cooking, a huge buffet was spread throughout the kitchen. She couldn’t help showing off her skills, trying to outdo him.
“Hope you washed those hands, surfer guy,” Charli scoffed, disgusted at how well he cooked.
Deven smirked, “Would it matter? You’re about to eat it now. But for your information, they are squeaky. See?”
He showed her both hands, nails clean and short, fingers long and thick rooted to heavy palms. Charli looked at the masculine fingers and remembered each digit on her flesh. The way those fingers touched her, grabbed her, and pushed her to take more than she was built for. She loved it, never had felt enveloped by rapture with another man. Shaking her head, she filled a plate, and carried it to the patio to eat. Deven followed her outside, only saying, “Don’t think I’m going to let you ditch me to eat alone.” The words were accompanied by a grin, and Charli watched him pull a chair out for her which she took gratefully.
They ate in silence, enjoying a well-prepared meal. The eggs Benedict were delightful, particularly with the mango salsa. Her apple compote and yeast flapjacks were mouthwatering, and Deven found room for one more after he ate the first stack. Charli’s plate was much smaller, and she thought she was going to pop. There wasn’t one more bite she could fit in her mouth, not even a sip of water. Sitting at the patio, the weak sun warming her face and hands, Charli leaned back in her lounger. Within minutes, she was fast asleep.
* * * *
Deven was finishing his meal and watched Charli nap. She snored, just a small snort every few minutes. Her short hair was tucked behind the shell of her ears. The pajamas were adorable, making her look at least ten years younger than she was. He enjoyed the view, her skin glowing with sun, eyelashes the only shadows on her face. He took a last drink of iced tea and carried the used dishes inside putting them in the sink. They were both clean-as-they-go cooks, making the task of cleaning the kitchen easy. The food that was left, he placed on plates and breakfast tray, so his brother could get it later. With nothing left to do, he walked back out, gazing at the surf. He needed an adventure, and the easiest one around here would be the dive today. The water was starting to grow too cool to surf without a wetsuit. He hated to wear them, usually opting for shorts only.
He leaned over the lounger and its occupant, the sleeping pixie. Scooping her small frame, he was amazed at just how small she really was. Awake, Charli was a wildcat. But asleep she was a kitten. She even stretched and purred in his arms like one. He felt protective, but he’d better keep that to himself. Carrying her to the purple bedroom, he laid her on the bed. He climbed in next to her, toeing his sandals in the floor. Due to the size of the bed, she ended up clinging to him, and his feet were over the edge of the tiny twin. But the two of them slept, more content than he would fully remember later.
Deven woke first, stirring slowly, not understanding why he felt so good. He hadn’t slept well in a long time. Usually, he found things to do, busying himself until he passed out. Dev was normally up by six a.m. and would crash about three the next morning. So needless to say, he usually wasn’t the brightest bulb after waking. He opened his eyes and felt the slight weight just as he saw her. Charli. She felt so good in his arms. He never thought it would be comfortable to sleep with another person. Her hair was flying in all directions, the strands every which way. The next thing he heard was rustling and food being eaten. The happy couple must be in the kitchen, or so Dev assumed based on the sounds he heard. He sat up, needing a quick shower, and he could get ready to head to the plane. When he got out of bed, it seemed as if Charli started looking for him. Her hands and arms roved the sheets, restlessly, and she clutched a pillow. It satisfied her enough that the movements stopped, but then she began speaking. It was kind of freaky, listening to her talk to herself. The words were nonsense at first, just her muttering. Then she started to say his name, over and over, clutching her pillow.
Deven was transfixed, couldn’t move as if he grew roots to the spot he stood on. She was dreaming about him? How long had she been doing that? Most of all, was it good? It must be, he thought, as she was rolling her hips slightly to the rhythm she chanted his name. The pillow fell away from her, and she pleaded with him not to leave. Charli was too independent to want to need someone. No wonder she treated him the way she did. It made him see her differently. The vulnerable side of her, showing through her tough armor, unnerved him. Did any other man know her secret? Had she let anyone close enough to her to sleep with him, just to rest? He still watched her long moments later as s
he stirred, eyes blinking twice focused on him.
“Good afternoon,” Dev told her, in that moment deciding to keep their nap together to himself.
“Ditto.” Charli stretched, her top riding up to her waist, the sexy dip of belly button showing. The view was snatched from him as soon as she finished and sat upright. She combed her hair down with her fingers, but a stubborn cowlick stuck up in back. She looked like Alfalfa, but Dev smiled and kept the thought to himself before he started another argument.
“You ready to go? We need to be in the air by five to get the maximum view for our hang time today.”
“Yeah, just let me get a shower. What time is it now?” Charli asked.
“Almost four, you can get about half an hour if that will work.” Deven didn’t want make too many demands. History showed him that she didn’t take well to being controlled.
“Okay, I will be back in a jiffy. Just let me get something to wear.” Charli jumped out of bed, her face scrunched up as if she were headed to the gallows.
Deven didn’t respond to her statement only watched her hips twitch away, loving the look of satin plastered to her skin. He decided to see what the newlyweds thought of his and Charli’s efforts at brunch. The happy couple were both eating, sharing two huge plates. Makenzie was on her husband’s lap, and they fed the other, each using a fork. The first plate was filled with a stack and a half of flapjacks and compote, while the other contained an omelet, salsa and bacon. By the looks on their faces they were enjoying the meal, and each other. Makenzie saw him first, as she was looking over Charyn’s shoulder.
“Hey, Dev, when did you get here?” Mak asked.
“Give or take a few minutes, about five hours.” Deven worked hard to keep his expression deadpan, and he watched Mak’s cheeks heat up. She knew he heard her this morning, and was discomfited. She was loud as hell, but shy about it at the same time, a cute combination that fit her. Charyn just continued eating, stealing bits of bacon here and there. By the time his wife noticed, only half of a single strip was left on their shared plates.
“Damn it, Charyn, could you have left me a whole slice at least?”
“Snooze, you lose.” Charyn laughed, but leaned over the table and handed his wife a stray piece from the platter.
She saluted him with the salted crisp and devoured it in three bites. Dev poured himself the last of the tea, and neck tilted back, cleaned the glass with one long swallow. He rinsed the glass off and sat it in the sink, deciding he would change before boarding the plane. He’d rather wear the more comfortable clothes he had on to drive to the strip than what he normally wore under his jumpsuit.
Charli was ready in fifteen minutes wearing a plain T-shirt in bright-pink hue and jeans with slide-on sneakers. When she strolled into the kitchen, Mak and Charyn were already cleaning the empty plates at the sink and Deven was relaxed, leaning against the counter. All the food from earlier had been devoured by the hungry newlyweds.
“I’m ready, Deven. Can we drop my car off at my place, so I don’t have to come back for it?”
“Good. That will be just fine.” Dev was checking his watch.
He walked to his car, surprised how quickly she got ready. In his experience, women always made him wait at least ten minutes more than they needed. All their hard work was usually for nothing, especially since he was only going to mess their efforts up. He wasn’t much of a dater and he didn’t really see the point. Why bother if it’s sex only? He always made it crystal clear to any woman that she wasn’t going to hook him. Yes, he was voted as one of North Carolina’s most eligible bachelors, emphasis on “bachelor.” He didn’t want anyone to waste his time with pathetic overtures or heaps of drama. Of course, the occasional woman would test him. Deven always walked away, no contact after the moment he left. He wouldn’t accept their phone calls or talk to them. He wasn’t hurtful, but didn’t want anything to do with them and was man enough to make it clear when the situation arose. The only regret was the woman in the club a few months ago. She deserved better sex than he gave her that night, even if he didn’t enjoy it.
Deven was a strong believer in giving more than he got, especially in the bedroom. Women may or may not come, while for a man it was usually automatic. That meant he had to make the act enjoyable for her, and she would make it better for him. He just didn’t get men who fucked badly. What was the point? Anyone could get their rocks off alone, and all men like their egos stroked. A sweaty, limp, pleased woman was the best way of all. What man could resist that?
* * * *
Charli wasn’t far behind Dev out the door. She hugged her best friend and Charyn, before grabbing another bottle of water. When she got outside, Dev held a trash bag with her lukewarm swig of water and half eaten muffin from earlier. She had completely dismissed the fact that she left them there, the reason that they were still on the hood of her car now. Her cheeks heated as she remembered the repercussions of her anger. She knew Dev saw the color in her face, and his eyes were smiling, just a tad.
They got on the road, Charli loving the new car Dev was driving, a Tesla S. She had looked into an electric car but really couldn’t see giving up her Honda yet. It was almost twenty years old, but those were the good ones. It was paid for and drove great. She treated it like a baby, didn’t drive long distances, and did her own, frequent oil changes. But she had to admit that his car was sexy and had the benefit of being fuel free. She watched him navigate the road efficiently as they sped through the back roads to her house.
Deven beat Charli by five minutes and had to open his big mouth, finding a way to anger her in the least words possible.
“What took you so long?”
“Not everyone drives at warp speed, you know that right? I cannot afford to lose my license.”
“I would get it back for you.” Dev smiled big and toothy.
“No thanks, in my old business, you don’t attract attention by speeding. The best driving is no more than one to two miles above or below the limit. You want to look normal.”
“Ahh... makes sense.”
Deven helped her carry her bags inside. There seemed to be almost a bag for every store in the outlet mall. They dropped her packages in the living room, and numerous bags littered the floor and couch. When the last of them were done, Deven escorted Charli to the car she drooled over on the drive home. The interior was sumptuous, similar to any well-known luxury car.
Dev put the sports car in gear, and the pair was once again on the road. The takeoff site was outside of Oak Island, and he pushed the small car’s engine to get there. Deven took 23rd Street, from there hopping on Highway 74. Once he reached the Myrtle Beach exit, he was gone. The car could push one twenty easily, and he used most of the small engine’s speed zipping past other cars. The speed did give her a major adrenaline rush but that wasn’t a problem, at least not right now.
They reached the airstrip in thirty minutes, almost half the regular drive time. His car was beautiful in motion. She may just have to buy one, Charli thought. She dismissed it since she wasn’t the type to use that much speed. Hopping from the car, she watched Dev unfold his long legs and climb out. Frankly, she was amazed he didn’t go the route of his brother and buy a Hummer. He had too much leg for this car. Looking at the calves exiting from the vehicle, she saw a healthy dusting of hair. It was golden, like a series of spun thread. Charli was curious about the texture.
She was still curious when they walked in the hangar. There was only one other person, an older man with weathered skin and a prickle of gray beard. His head was bald, and he wore a charcoal-gray, mechanics, one-piece suit. The man, who Deven introduced as Stu, was really an aerospace engineer but flew jets for fun as well. He would be piloting them to the jump site, and they would navigate back to their landing zone with the chute. Charli didn’t say anything, but her mind was definitely racing. She thought that there would be other people as well. When Stu walked away, she asked.
“I thought usually there were other people who
needed to do something like this.”
“Nope, I’m a certified skydive instructor, so I can jump as I please. Since I’m assuming this is your first dive, we’re going tandem. That way you can go with minimal training.”
“Wow.” She had no idea that she would be strapped to him for the whole ride. How in the heck would this work?
“You should be excited. People pay good money to do this every day.” Deven smiled at her, just a quirked mouth on the left side.
He showed her the harness and demonstrated how to put it on, using himself as a guide as she watched him fasten himself up. Deven then explained the emergency procedures if anything happened while on the plane or after they jumped, and he showed her how to activate the chute on her own if he were injured or unconscious. Next he told her how to make a landing on her own. Charli learned the operation of the drogue chute, which they would use when they left the plane to keep their combined weight from decreasing their velocity as they were in free fall. Then, he briefed her on the AAD, an automatic Activation Device. It kept track of their velocity, and if they went below seven hundred fifty feet and didn’t release the chute, it would deploy it automatically for them.
Deven left to change clothes and pull on the black jumpsuit he had reserved for himself. Charli now felt more comfortable with the idea of falling from the sky tangled with the man in front of her when confronted with clear, educated information and took the offered jumpsuit in yellow. She pulled it on over her jeans and T-shirt, zipping closed then fastening the Velcro closure and slid her tennis shoes back on before fiddling with the harness Deven gave her. When she got it on, it seemed a bit loose, and she messed with the fixtures, trying to get a closer fit.
Willows, Jennifer - Lust for Life [The Moreland Brothers 2] (Siren Publishing Allure) Page 5