Читать книгу Blame It on the Bachelor - Karen Kendall - Страница 10

KYLIE WAS SHAKING INSIDE, though she wore her smile like armor. What was wrong with her, that she couldn’t even score with a bona fide man-whore like Devon McKee? His reputation preceded him. Everyone knew he had no standards; that given the chance he’d do a day-old bagel.

And yet he’d turned her down, despite the fact that she’d lost her mind and talked to him like a professional phone-sex operator.

The cocktail hour was drawing to a close and soon everyone would take their assigned seats for dinner. She was on the verge of tears. She had to pull herself together.

Kylie lifted yet another glass of champagne—her third—from a waiter’s tray and wobbled towards the ladies’ room again, with the idea of shutting herself into a stall until she’d calmed down. But the entire flock of bridesmaids got there before she did, leaving her no option … except, perhaps, the infamous utility closet.

A quick scan of the hallway told her she was alone, so she walked quickly to the door, pulled it open and slipped inside, feeling around for a light switch as she closed herself in.

Far from being alone with a sexy ex-rocker, she had as her companions an industrial carpet steamer, a cart stocked with cleaning products and bathroom tissue, and a vacuum the size of a Chevrolet.

Kylie leaned her forehead against one of the dingy, pockmarked walls and closed her eyes against the sting of rejection. It wasn’t really Devon’s rejection that hurt, of course—it was the long months of feeling inadequate in her relationship, helpless at the erosion of Jack’s love as drugs and sexual fantasy consumed him.

Devon’s dismissal of her was the last straw. Kylie gulped the entire glass of champagne and set the flute on the cleaning cart. She took a deep breath. Then another.

I will not cry. I will absolutely not cry. I will under no circumstances cry.

I am a strong, fabulous woman with a great job in banking. I will be an assistant vice president soon, then a regional vice president of the bank one day. If I can’t have a fulfilling personal life, then I will have a meteoric career.

There is no reason for me to be skulking in a broom closet!

I will not cry…

Oh, hell. Did salt water stain silk? She was going to ruin her dress. Kylie grabbed a roll of toilet paper from the cleaning cart and unwound enough to mummify her entire head. She buried her face in it.

Judging by the black streaks on the tissue, her mascara was running, damn it. She had to stop this pathetic mewling immediately.

Bank executives did not behave this way.

She straightened her spine and looked upward, blinking rapidly to get rid of the tears in her eyes. She smacked her own cheeks lightly. She cleared her throat.

“I am woman,” Kylie said out loud. “Hear me roar.”

Of course that was the moment when the closet door opened, and Devon McKee stood staring down at her, his dark eyebrows raised quizzically.

“Roar?” he asked.

Really, why couldn’t the floor swallow her up?

“I heard some sniffling,” he said, “but definitely no roaring.”

“Figure of speech.” She tried to brush past him—but he didn’t move.

Instead, he closed the door behind them, forcing her to step back. “What’s the matter, darlin’?”

“Nothing. I—I need to go find my seat. They’ll start serving dinner any minute, now.”

“Word of advice?”

“What?” she asked gruffly.

“Clean up your face a little better. It looks like a kid’s finger painting. Here, let me help.” He cupped her face in his hands and rubbed gently under her eyes with his thumbs. He brushed at her cheeks with his fingers. And then he dabbed at her mouth with a piece of the bathroom tissue.

Mortifying though the situation was, the warmth—and was it tenderness?—of his hands sent shivers of renegade pleasure down her spine and brought heat to the surface of her face and neck.

“That’s better,” Devon said. “Not that you weren’t the most gorgeous human finger painting alive.”

She managed a self-deprecating snuffle.

“Now, do you want to tell ol’ Dev why you’re crying in this closet?”

“Not crying,” she muttered.

“Riiiight. So, do you want to tell me why you’re squeezing joy and happiness out of your eyes in secret, then?” She shook her head.

“I see. Well, I just want to make sure that all this, um, euphoria isn’t because of something that a nasty pecker-head said to you a few minutes ago in defense of his own ego.”

“Of course not,” she said emphatically.

“I’m so relieved. I mean, this really sets my mind at ease,” said Devon, frowning at her.

“Good.”

He looked around the closet. “It’s clear to me, in that case, that you came in here to have fun with your broomstick, as the nasty pecker-head suggested.”

Kylie’s lips quivered in spite of her mood.

“But it’s gone,” he pointed out. “So …”

She met his eyes, which were twinkling ruefully. “The carpet steamer was more than adequate.”

“Ah. Need a cigarette now, do you?”

She nodded.

He patted his pockets.

“Actually, I don’t smoke.”

They stood looking at each other for a long moment, and she had to admit that if any guy could carry off leather pants, it most certainly was Devon McKee.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“I’m sorry,” he said simultaneously.

They both laughed.

“I’m not normally a slut or a tease,” Kylie added.

“That’s a real shame. What was it about me that brought out those admirable, delightful qualities?”

Her face flash-fried. She didn’t answer.

“I don’t normally play hard to get,” Dev said. “But I’m usually in the driver’s seat, so to speak. This was a whole new ball game.”

“Yeah … listen, we really should get back out there.” Once again, Kylie tried to maneuver her way out of the closet.

Once again, Dev blocked her way, this time, by simply stretching his arms across the narrow breadth of the closet and putting his palms flat on each wall.

Kylie eyed him nervously.

“Not that it wasn’t refreshing, but I prefer to do the seducing,” he said with a predatory grin.

My, but he had a lot of very white teeth. Rather wolfish ones, truth to tell.

She swallowed nervously, all of her former bravado having deserted her. She was locked in a closet with a guy she didn’t really know, and she’d teased him shamelessly.

Dev’s arm shot out and he caught her around the back of her neck, under her hair. Her stomach flipped as he drew her inexorably toward him. She was barely aware of her feet moving, or of her knees shaking as he bent his head to hers.

His lips sent liquid fire shooting through her veins, and they parted hers easily. He delved into her mouth, his other hand slipping down her back, over the thin silk of her dress. He pulled her against him, hard, and his hand drifted lower, cupping her bottom and then curving up again.

“You lied,” he said. “You are wearing panties. A thong.”

He slid his fingers up, under her dress, and the heat of him against her bare flesh shocked and excited her.

“So smooth,” he murmured. “So soft.”

She gasped as he dipped under the thong, into the cleft of her backside and down to the most private area of her body. The pleasure exquisite, it sent erotic ripples all over her body. He released her nape and picked her up with both hands, her skirt rucked up and the core of her snug against the hardness of him.

His breath came hot and shallow against her lips as he rocked against her, doing through their clothing what he wanted to do naked.

Through her dress, her breasts rubbed against his shirt, aching and wanting.

Supporting her weight with his left hand, he went back to cause more sensual trouble with his right. He dipped under her thong again, stroking and rubbing.

The sensations held her at gunpoint, taut and caught on a moan and shivering at the possibility of what he might do next.

Devon bit her lower lip gently and slid two fingers into her, still teasing her core with his thumb.

Unintelligible noises came from her own mouth, and she finally tore away from his. “You can’t— We can’t— You have to put me down!”

“Why?” asked Devon, and did something even more disturbing and wonderful.

“Because—aaahhhhh…”

“I thought you wanted me to do you.”

“Ohhhhhhhhhhh. No, stop! Wait, don’t stop—”

“Am I doing you wrong?”

“Nooooooooo!”

“Then what’s the problem?” He cleared space on the cleaning cart by knocking a bunch of bath tissue off it, then set her down. He fished in his pocket for his wallet and took out a condom. While she caught her breath, he unzipped his pants and rolled the condom on.

She couldn’t help being stunned at the size of him. She also couldn’t help coming to her senses about their ugly surroundings. “This is really cheap and sleazy,” she said, as he picked her up again.

“I know.” He grinned. “Ain’t it grand?” And he lowered her slowly onto his cock, kissing her as she reacted with a helpless moan. “You’re so tight. So hot. So delicious. Mmm.”

“I’m such a slut!”

He chuckled, nuzzling her neck. “Yeah, that’s right. Feel guilty about it, feel dirty. ‘Cause I’m gonna make you come anyway and a filthy, screaming orgasm is the best kind there is. Okay, honey?” He backed her against a wall and gave it to her hard, the way she needed it right now.

She needed passion. She needed to be with someone so excited by her that he could barely control himself. She needed so desperately to be wanted.

Devon supported her now with his right arm and used his left to pin her wrists above her head, driving into her almost violently, taking her to the edge and then beyond. The heat and the friction and the sense of the forbidden built to a crest. Then he bit her nipple lightly through her dress and she lost control, spasming around him.

“That’s right, darlin’. That’s beautiful. Give it to me, give me all you’ve got.” It was his turn to groan, now, as he took himself to the hilt inside of her, once and twice and a third, final time. He cursed softly as he came and held her to him tightly until every last tremor between them subsided.

Kylie leaned her head against the wall, her eyes unfocused. Devon kissed her neck and finally put her down, not that she could stand on her own two feet at the moment. She slid down in a boneless heap.

Dev leaned on the supply cart, panting. “You are something else, sweetheart.”

She nodded. “I’m now officially a tramp.”

He frowned at her. “If you feel this conflicted about things, why did you proposition me to begin with?”

“It’s complicated,” she said, pulling her dress over her thighs. At least she hadn’t thought once about Jack. “Why did you come looking for me? I thought you said that you wouldn’t bang me if I were the last chick on the planet. Not if the fate of the free world hung in the balance.”

Dev shrugged. “Clearly I’m not superhero material.”

“I don’t know about that.” She shot him a sidelong glance.

“We aim to please, here at McKee, Inc.” He winked at her.

“Devon, how are we going to go into the rehearsal dinner without everyone knowing what we just did?”

He pursed his lips. “People knowing is a problem for you?”

“Yes! I’m really not this type of girl.”

“The riddle again. So it was my animal magnetism that toppled you from your nice-girl pedestal?”

“Absolutely.”

“Why am I not buying this? Why do I have a feeling that you had some twisted female agenda of your very own?”

She gave him a look of limpid innocence.

He snorted. “All right. Now, I’m going to sneak out of here and find a pack of cigarettes. My official story is that I went out for a smoke and lost track of the time. You, on the other hand, got a business call. So you go back in still ‘talking’ to someone on your cell phone and then hang up and apologize to your table. I’ll saunter in about five minutes later, looking surprised that the meal has started. Does that work for you?”

She nodded and got to her feet, smoothing her dress. She found her purse and dug out her lipstick and compact, repairing the damage he’d done.

He watched her silently while he readjusted his own clothes and disposed of the condom. “Okay. One final thing, Kylie Kent.”

“What’s that?”

His dark eyes crinkled at the corners as he gave her a dazzling smile. “Well, I’d like your phone number, of course.”

She froze for a moment, then shook her head decisively as the smile dropped off his face. “Oh, no, no, no. No offense—you were great—but I don’t think that’s a good idea at all.”

And Kylie bolted out of the supply closet, once again leaving him speechless.