Читать книгу The Devil She Knows - Kira Sinclair - Страница 11

3

NERVES CHURNED IN Willow’s belly. Ensconced in her own car, the red pickup keeping pace behind her, she had plenty of opportunity to second-guess herself. Maybe she should tell Dev she’d changed her mind.

But the moment they arrived at her home and he stepped from the large red truck, she couldn’t find the words.

Instead she blurted out, “That’s not what I expected,” nodding to the intimidating vehicle behind him.

Heavy lids slid down over glowing blue eyes. The left side of his mouth quirked up into a half smile. He stalked closer. “What were you expecting?”

Reaching for the lapels of his suit, Willow let her fingers run up and down the expensive material. It was soft against her skin. She loved the subtle texture of it. Touching it settled her as nothing else probably could have.

She looked up into his shrouded eyes, still obscured by the mask he was wearing, and the butterflies that had taken up residence in her stomach disappeared. She wanted this. She wanted him.

For once she was going to be daring and take what she wanted. Tomorrow would be soon enough to worry about the aftermath.

“Something low and sleek. Fast. Dangerous. Gunmetal-gray, like your tie.” She let her hand slip down the silky line before tugging at the knot to loosen it.

“What an imagination you have. This is a costume. That—” he gestured negligently behind him at the hulking red truck parked in her driveway “—is real.”

Her fingers trailed over the cut of his suit. “This is no costume. I know expensive hand tailoring when I see it.”

She watched as a sheepish grin touched his lips. “All right, I do have a Jag sitting in the garage at home. But it’s also red, so I don’t think that counts.”

“Oh, it counts.” She touched the mask covering his face and then glanced at the truck. “Have a thing for red, do you?”

He ran a finger down her hair. Tingles shattered across her scalp. “Maybe.”

Trusting he would follow, Willow walked into her home. Leaving the door open, she dropped her clutch on the table by the door and threw her keys into the bowl she kept there. The soft click of the lock catching sent a jolt of need through her.

She closed her eyes for a brief moment. His fingers slipped down the curve of her neck. Her skin pebbled in response to his caress.

“Would you like a glass of wine?” Did she want him to say yes or did she want him to say no?

“What I want is you.” His voice was close, closer than she’d expected. “To kiss you here.” His fingers trailed across her shoulders. “And here.” His touch continued down her spine. Not even the barrier of her dress could prevent the heat of him from seeping deep inside.

His arm circled her body, pulling her tight against him. Her back pressed into his chest. Her head fell against his shoulder. Feathers arced out from between them, tickling her cheek.

He drew a line down the center of her body, through the valley between her breasts, across her stomach and to the juncture of her thighs. “And here. I want to know the sound you make when you let go. I want the taste of you on my tongue.”

“Yes,” she breathed out. She’d never wanted anything more.

Dev took a step back. She felt the loss of him immediately. She tried to turn, but the weight of his hands on her shoulders held her in place.

Gently, he found the complicated laces that connected her wings to the dress. She’d built loops into the back panel to keep them from drooping.

Willow hadn’t realized the weight of them until they were gone. It was a relief. Several of the feathers escaped, fluttering to the floor around them.

Irrefutable evidence that this angel has truly fallen, she thought.

But when his mouth touched the curve of her neck, Willow couldn’t find the desire to care. Not when sinning with this man felt so good.

Talented fingers found the zipper at the back of her dress. The rasp of it echoed through her darkened house. The sound mingled with her rapid breaths. He’d barely touched her, and she was undone.

Instead of letting the dress fall heavily to the floor as she’d expected, he held it up. As he tugged the sleeves off, one at a time, his mouth found the curve of her neck and sucked.

And then he was at her feet. “Step out,” he ordered.

Her hands curled around his shoulders, holding on as she did. Just above the edge of her stocking, the rough stubble of his jaw brushed against the outside of her thigh. But before she could enjoy the sensation, he was on his feet again and walking away. With her dress in his hands.

Willow turned to watch as he draped it carefully over a chair. When he was satisfied, he spun back to her. “That dress is too beautiful to leave in a puddle on the floor.”

If that statement had come from any other man she would have worried. But Dev was too masculine and inherently sexual for the words to be anything but a show of consideration for her creation and hard work.

The last of her doubts fled.

From across the room the heat of his dark gaze raked her body. She’d never been so grateful for beautiful underwear in her life.

Because the foundation garments that went under her dresses were just as important as the fit of the gowns, Willow insisted on selling lingerie for the brides. And because she knew that new husbands would be seeing them, she also demanded that the pieces be lovely, sensual and enticing.

The benefit of selling the stuff was getting to take home the pieces she fell in love with. Beautiful lingerie was a secret weakness of hers. Something that she could keep to herself. Although tonight she was happy to share.

His eyes feasted on her. “That is unexpected.”

“What?”

The merry widow was white and made of see-through mesh and lace. It was strapless; the cups and boning kept it in place. The edge skimmed right at the curve of her hips and a cutout in front showcased matching panties. Tiny iridescent beads edged the lace, and delicate garters stretched down her thighs.

With deliberate steps Dev crossed the room. He stopped before her, but didn’t touch. At least, not with anything more than his gaze.

“I didn’t think anything could top the dress. I was wrong. I almost wish you still had the wings.”

Overwhelmed, Willow dropped her focus to the ground between them.

“Don’t.” The single growling word startled her into looking back up.

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t go all virginal on me.”

Something about the way he said the word virginal pissed her off. He was...annoyed.

This time, she was the one to close the space between them. Grabbing the tie she’d already loosened, Willow pulled him tight against her half-naked body. The texture of his suit touching her skin only served to remind her that she was vulnerable while he was still completely covered up.

He could have stopped her, but he didn’t. Instead, he let her pull him down, his back arching so they were face-to-face.

“Don’t let the white fool you. I haven’t been a virgin since I was sixteen.”

The dark wing of his eyebrows rose in surprise. “That young?”

“Let’s just say it was a moment of weakness.”

“Like me.”

“Not like you. That was a regrettable bow to peer pressure and was hardly earth-shattering. This is a moment of insanity. And I have a feeling I’ll remember it for the rest of my life. For much better reasons.”

“God, I hope so.”

“God has nothing to do with it.”

Without warning, Dev swept her up into his arms.

She directed him to her bedroom, and he carried her up the stairs as if she was as light as one of the feathers that lay scattered in their wake. He didn’t bother to turn on lights when he reached her room. There was enough moonlight that he could see. Placing her softly on the bed, Dev took a step back.

Willow leaned up on her elbows to watch.

Without a care for his own clothes, he let the suit coat slide to the floor. She almost protested, but her mouth was too dry. Anticipation buzzed through her, an electrical shock of need. With dexterous fingers, he finished the job she’d started outside and pulled the tie free.

Without breaking eye contact, he torturously unbuttoned his shirt. Her legs scissored restlessly on the bed, silk rasping against silk. She wanted him to be the one touching her. But she wanted to enjoy the show more.

And she wasn’t disappointed. Billowing behind him, the shirt fluttered to the floor, his own set of broken wings.

What to look at first? His chest was wide, shoulders tight with muscle. They tapered down in a V to his amazing abs. His biceps flexed. Jesus, the man was built. And not with the kind of muscles that came from working out in a gym.

What the heck did he do? And why did she care? She could ask him later.

Bouncing up onto her knees, Willow couldn’t keep her hands to herself anymore. Grasping the waistband of his pants, she tugged him to the edge of the bed. His hands tangled in her hair, sending the pins she’d used to pull it up scattering across the bed.

Some of them pulled, but she didn’t care. Dev’s fingers sifted through the strands, combing until all the pins were gone and her hair hung in a waterfall down her back.

He reached for his mask, but she stopped him. His hand stilled beneath hers, a question in his eyes.

“Leave it.”

She wanted the masks tonight. She wanted the anonymity they provided and the safety to be and do whatever she wanted without the niggling voice in the back of her head that said she would regret this. Yes, the cover was a ruse and they both knew it, but she needed it.

Without it she wouldn’t have the strength to break her own rules.

“All right. If you’ll leave these on,” he countered, running a finger down the inside of her thigh to the band of lace circling the top of her stocking.

“Done.”

His mouth crushed to hers. He was all sweltering sin. He tasted dark and dangerous. But she opened for him anyway, letting him in. His tongue stroked hers, coaxing and teasing. He sucked, pulling her into his own mouth.

While she was distracted, he was busy disengaging each of the tiny hooks that ran up the length of her spine. The boning fell away. Willow let out a gasp of relief that he swallowed.

Blood rushed to the surface of her skin. His hands scraped down her exposed body, taking advantage of the increased sensitivity. The muscles in her stomach leaped beneath his touch.

But he wasn’t the only industrious one. Spreading the fly of his pants open, Willow went searching for what she wanted most. And she wasn’t disappointed. Hot and hard, the length of his sex pressed eagerly against her palm.

Talented fingers tugged at her distended nipples. He rolled them, making her ache, and then his thumbs feathered lightly across the sensitive peaks. Willow clenched her thighs together, trying to find some relief, but there wasn’t any. At least, none without him.

The need for him spiraled out of control. She shoved his pants to the floor and resented the time it took for him to step out of them because that meant he wasn’t touching her.

She bit his shoulder and he sucked in a harsh breath. In retaliation, he grasped her around the thighs, brought them close together and then pushed her backward.

The pull of gravity was exhilarating. Her entire world tipped off-center. And he was right there with her.

Silk-clad thighs slid slowly up his ribs. Dev settled heavily against the V of her open legs. He felt so good there.

His mouth found her breast and he sucked. The moist heat of him had her arching off the bed.

The rip of fabric tore through the room. A cool gust of air touched her sex. She didn’t care. If it meant he’d touch her then he could ruin every last pair of panties she owned. Hell, she’d sew more.

And then he found her. His fingers slipped through her sex, diving deep. She groaned with the bliss of his touch. He found her hidden spot and stroked. Over and over, until she was delirious with the need for more.

Her hands played mindlessly across his body, the pleasure of touching him increasing her own. He was solid and real. Hers to enjoy. Her mouth rained down kisses on every inch of skin she could reach.

Blindly, she fumbled in the bedside table for the box she kept there, not that she needed it often. Grabbing a condom, she used her teeth to open it and then rolled the tight latex over his pulsing hardness.

She wanted him inside her. Now.

Understanding her unspoken urgency, Dev gave her exactly what she wanted. Rearing back, he brought them together, positioning the swollen head of his erection at the aching opening of her sex.

Slowly, he pushed inside, letting her take him inch by inch. He stretched and filled her. His breath came in short gasps as he slid all the way home. His body trembled. She could feel the tremor straight to her center.

He was everywhere. Surrounding her. Over her. Deep inside. His hips flexed against her, drawing a moan and giving her just a little more.

And then he was moving. With slow, deliberate strokes, he pulled out and then thrust back again. Her hips pumped in time with his. He drove her crazy, bringing her to the brink only to push inside and stay there, motionless, while she writhed.

Every muscle in her body was wound tight. Every nerve ending quivered, waiting for the moment when her world would finally break apart.

When it came, the release hit with a force she’d never experienced before. Was it Dev, or was it the edge of danger? She didn’t know and didn’t care. Everything went black, the tiny bursts of color across her eyelids the only thing in her universe. That and the spot where they joined. The relentless waves of satisfaction.

The frenzy of his release pierced the fog. He thrust into her, his entire body bowing back with tension right before the snap. And then he was calling her name, a guttural groan that echoed deep inside her.

Watching him let go was beautiful, and she wished she’d let him take off the mask so she could see more. See all of him. Before, it had felt right, the barrier she’d kept in place. Now, after what they’d just shared, it felt wrong to have anything between them.

Her body pulsed. Pleasure and something more fizzled through her veins. He collapsed beside her. Willow’s body quivered, a spent mess.

Their legs tangled together, but she was too drained to try to unravel the knot. His arm, draped across her waist, tightened to pull her closer.

“You are definitely no angel.”

* * *

HE WAS IN serious trouble.

Dev stared down at Willow as she slept. He couldn’t settle. His conscience wouldn’t let him. What had he done?

She was going to be pissed when she realized who he was. And, really, he wouldn’t blame her. But the moment he’d followed her inside...he’d been lost.

The sight of her standing in the dark hallway, moonlight falling across her pale skin and those wings...he’d had to touch. And once his fingers slipped across her smooth skin he couldn’t stop.

When she’d told him to keep the masks on he’d been relieved...and guilty as hell. He knew, without a doubt, that the moment she saw his face that would be the end of it. And he’d waited to touch her for so long.

But that didn’t change the fact that he’d royally screwed up. It had been a very long time since he’d let his dick do his thinking. Damn thing tended to get him into serious trouble. The question was, how to fix this? If that was even possible.

With a sigh, Willow rolled onto her side. The skin between her eyes crinkled. Then she burrowed into his prostrate body and her entire face smoothed out into sleepy contentment.

Oh, yeah, he was in deep shit.

Her shocking-red hair spread across the pillow. Staring down at her, Dev was careful not to pull as he threaded his fingers through it. He wanted to know what it would look like without the artificial color. His memory of her told him it should be a deep, rich brown that reminded him of fertile, fresh-tilled soil.

She smelled so good. Pressing his nose close to the exposed crook of her neck, he breathed her in. Something soft, sweet and subtle, like honeysuckle on a perfect summer morning.

He wanted more.

And that was really the crux of the problem. One night with her wasn’t enough. But when she realized who he was...

The thought of that conversation had dread tightening his gut.

He had two choices. He could leave now and avoid the issue all together. Play this off as the one-night stand she probably thought she’d just had. But that really wasn’t going to work for him. Not only did he not want to leave, but he couldn’t avoid the confrontation.

Eventually she was going to see him in town and realize who she’d had amazing sex with.

Or he could stay. Brazen it out and try to convince her that he hadn’t set out to take advantage of her. That screwing her hadn’t been about revenge, but heat and long-denied attraction.

Sliding down, he tucked her body tighter, enjoying the way she fit perfectly against him. Her hair was still clutched in his fist, an unconscious attempt to hold on to what he fully expected to lose.

Had she dyed it for the costume or did she keep it red all the time? He hoped it was temporary. It didn’t suit her. At all. Not that it was bad...it just wasn’t Willow. Or at least, the Willow he remembered.

Although why he thought he understood her at all he didn’t know. Ten years was a long time. He was proof of that. Look at how different he was from the rebellious and angry boy he’d been.

God, he’d been a prick when he’d moved to Sweetheart, defiantly wearing the label on his sleeve. Consumed with pain he didn’t want anyone to see. His mom, a drug addict who’d only cared about her next fix, had died from an overdose. He’d been the one to find her pale body, lifeless and cold. And even if she’d been a shitty mother...she’d been his. And it had hurt.

Everyone looked at him and judged. The other kids he went to school with. The teachers who should have been a source of knowledge and help, but were too busy to notice he was lost. Although, it really hadn’t been their fault. It wasn’t like he was ever around long enough for anyone to put the pieces together.

Dev had lost count how many times his family had been evicted because neither parent could hold a job or bother to pay rent. Moving from place to place meant school to school. After his dad went to jail there’d been several months he hadn’t bothered going to class at all. And no one had noticed.

Before Sweetheart he’d never really had a home. A roof over his head, sure. Not a home. But his grandfather had given him one...at least for a little while.

No matter how long he’d lived there, he’d never quite let himself relax. Five years in one place was unheard of for him. And he just kept waiting for it to end. It was almost a relief, when the look in his grandfather’s eyes changed from exasperated love to enraged disappointment and the fairy tale was finally over.

Once again, everyone had judged him, looking for the worst and finding only what they expected.

But they’d all been wrong. Sure, he’d floundered for a few months trying to find a way through the mess he’d landed in. Who would have known that picking up an odd job on a construction site could change his life so drastically? He’d never forget the man who’d given him a chance and seen beneath the grimy exterior to the potential lurking deep inside.

He’d gone back to school, finished his degree, and started Devlin Landscaping & Design. At any given time he had hundreds of people working for him all over the country.

Willow had lived in the world he’d wanted desperately to be a part of, but couldn’t quite believe he had the right to. She’d been different. Or so he’d thought. But in the end, she’d pushed him away just like his grandfather, easily believing the lies.

Once he might have known the sound of her laughter and the way her eyes darkened when she was angry, but that obviously wasn’t enough.

He should probably feel remorse for what he’d just done, but he couldn’t muster up the emotion. It would mean he regretted tonight, and he didn’t. Maybe he would later, when the piper had to be paid, but for the moment the satisfaction was too close to the surface.

Trouble would find him soon enough, anyway. It always did. Besides, with her naked body pressed close he wanted another taste. There was no point asking for absolution if he fully intended to sin again.

He hadn’t gone to that party with the intention of picking someone up. Considering what had happened, sleeping with anyone his first day back in Sweetheart was probably the worst decision he could have made. The fact that it had been Willow just compounded the stupidity.

She really was nothing like her sister, which was a good thing. Rose had been provoking and selfish, caring about no one but herself. Willow was soft and quiet. Giving. Reserved, even if tonight she had wanted to pretend she was daring.

But, God, beneath all the polished restraint she was passionate. And nothing like the women he normally connected with.

He liked to get down and dirty, in his job, in bed and in general. Life was too short and too much shit happened. Shit that no one could predict or control.

So tonight he was going to enjoy the moment. Tomorrow would be soon enough to deal with the rest.