Читать книгу Make Me Scream - P.J. Mellor - Страница 9

“Aw, shit, Dev, you make it sound like we gang-raped her or something.” Chris scowled and flipped his long ponytail over his shoulder and then crossed his arms over his tanned chest. He referred to himself as a dancer, but Devon knew a stripper when he saw one—male or female.

“I’m not the one who got in the shower with her,” Drew pointed out then glared at Chris. “I still can’t believe you did that.”

“So I read the signals wrong,” Chris groused. “Sue me.”

“You’re lucky she didn’t have your ass thrown in jail!” Drew shot back.

Todd, the newest resident—until now—shifted and glanced around. Todd worked with Chris and had already gained a bigger reputation with the ladies. He snickered and crossed one bare foot over his waxed leg. “Dude, what were you thinking?”

Chris took a swig from his longneck beer before answering. “Her pussy was practically dripping for me. Why do you think she was squirming on my lap? Plus,” he said, pointing the beer-bottle neck at the crowd around the fire, “she had her hot little hand in my pants not fifteen minutes before she went to her apartment to shower. Any one of you sons of bitches would have done the same thing. You’re just pissed because she chose me.”

“That’s not what she told me when she came in to break the lease.” Devon, along with the others, had seen the foreplay in the courtyard and had the same interpretation as Chris. But Alexis told an entirely different story. Not wanting to get in serious shit with the management company—or worse—he’d gladly refunded her deposit and waved good-bye.

He glanced at his watch and wondered if he’d given Jamie enough time. Immediate memories of her straining sweater had the fabric of his shorts doing the same. Down, boy.

“But all that’s history,” Devon said with a smile, glancing around. “My point is you need to play it cool with Jamie. We don’t want another woman to run screaming from the complex. I mean, who knows if this one would run straight to the police.”

The men shifted in uncomfortable silence, and Devon heaved an inward sigh of relief.

He wasn’t ugly, but he also wasn’t stupid. Compared to most of the specimens gathered around the fire pit, he would come up lacking. He’d had a view of Chris’s package when he crossed his legs. He absolutely did not want to be compared and come up lacking—in any area.

“Leaving already?” Chris asked when Devon stood and retrieved the suitcase.

“Hell, no,” Devon answered, wracking his brain for a reason not to return. “I’ll be back in a few. I need to drop off the suitcase. Need more beer? I can make a beer run after I do this.”

The men voiced their approval, and he nodded, then turned toward Jamie’s door.

He knocked and waited, his overactive imagination playing out a scene he craved with every cell in his body.

Jamie would open the door, dressed in nothing but one of the old yellow towels and a smile. He’d kick the door shut just as she dropped the towel, her nipples puckered and hard on her firm breasts.

“I’ve been waiting for you all my life,” she’d say in her little sex-kitten voice as she walked to him and rubbed her nipples across his bare chest. Her hand would close around his erection.

He wondered when he’d undressed, but since it was his daydream, he went with it and pulled her into his arms.

“Devon? Are you okay?” Jamie stood in the open doorway, fully clothed, a puzzled look on her face. Her gaze dropped to his obvious erection, made all the more obvious by his death grip on his shorts. “What are you doing?”

Did he detect horror in her voice? Damn straight, he did. Of course she was horrified to open her door to find her apartment manager fondling himself. Hell, he was horrified.

“Ah…” Think, McCloud, think! What would Trent do? He’d whip out a smart-ass reply, that’s what. “Um, I read once if it moves, fondle it.” He grimaced. Smooth, real smooth.

Her eyes widened. “Excuse me?”

“Ha. Ha. Just kidding.” His smile felt as if it might fracture his cheeks, but he’d be damned if he’d retreat. She hadn’t slammed the door or screamed. That had to mean something.

She just stood looking up at him, making his mouth water with the view he had down her cleavage.

In his mind, she was naked again. This time she stood beneath the daisy light, the shadows playing peekaboo with her close-shaved pussy. She placed one stiletto-clad foot up on the chair, exposing her moist lips. He briefly wondered when she’d put on high heels, but since he was lost in his sexual imagination, he put it out of his mind.

She reached between her spread legs and flicked a tiny gold ring.

His penis tried to escape his shorts the hard way—through his zipper. Oh, my God, she had a pierced pussy. The little gold labia ring sparkled in the dim light.

“What did you say about a ring?” She closed the door behind him, once again fully clothed. Damn. “I didn’t bring any jewelry, so if you found a ring, it’s not mine.”

“Oh. Ah, okay.” He glanced around the living room. “Where would you like me to put it—the suitcase. I’m talking about the suitcase. Where would you like me to put the suitcase?”

She walked closer and peered into his eyes. “Devon, are you sure you’re okay? You’re kind of flushed.” Her cool hand singed his forehead. “And, no offense, but you’re kind of babbling.”

She was close enough to kiss. The lightbulb from the daisy lamp did marvelous things to her skin.

He wanted to lick it. Lick her. All over.

Great. Now he was babbling to himself, too.

Would she freak if he pulled her into his arms and tried to kiss her?

“No,” she said and stepped back. “I wouldn’t freak, but I don’t want you to try it.”

Shit. He must have said it out loud.

“Yes, you did.”

Damn! He did it again.

She eased the suitcase from his fist. “Thanks for bringing my suitcase. I think it’s time for you to leave.”

He swallowed, the feel of his Adam’s apple dragging down his throat like a tennis ball. “I’m sorry,” he said in a low voice. “I don’t usually act like this. You’re just so cute and, well, hot, and it was all I could think of when I looked at you standing there. I mean—”

“Oh, for goodness’ sake!” She grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him flush against her awe-inspiring chest. “Just kiss me and get it over with so we can both get some sleep!”

Get it over with? Did she really think one kiss would do it and they would go on their merry way?

He gazed down into her big blue eyes. No. Fucking. Way. If he kissed her—and he fully intended to do so—it was going to be a kiss to remember. Legendary. A kiss to curl her toes. Hell, it may even be a kiss to make her come in her pretty little silk panties.

He damned well was going to give it his best shot.

His stomach clenched, his palms sweated. He fumbled in the pocket of his shorts until he found what he sought.

Sssst! The calming mint of his breath spray gave him the burst of freshness and courage he needed.

Against his chest, Jamie’s breasts jiggled with her laugh.

“Don’t laugh, woman,” he said in the sternest voice he could muster. “Good oral hygiene is important.”

Her smile faltered. “In that case, give me a blast.” She opened her mouth, the sight of her pink tongue and inner cheeks making her seem vulnerable.

After spraying her delectable mouth, he set the dispenser on the table and pulled her back into his arms.

“Ready?”

A slow smile curved her lips. “Yes, I think I am.”

A breath away from her mouth, he traced her lips with the tip of his tongue, encouraged by the way her breath hitched. Her lip gloss tasted faintly sweet. He closed his teeth on her plump lower lip and held it gently while he ran his tongue back and forth across it.

She pressed closer, her breasts flattened against his chest, her breathing becoming shallow.

He released her lip and made full contact, rubbing his mouth against hers. As he’d hoped, she opened for him.

Sweet. She tasted as sweet as she looked. And refreshingly minty. Oh, wait, that was the breath spray.

A sound escaped from deep in her throat, and he deepened the kiss.

Behind his zipper, his cock did a desperate dance. He tried to put some distance between it and Jamie’s abdomen, but her hands at his hips stopped his effort.

Something warm and delicious blossomed within Jamie. Wow. Devon certainly knew how to kiss. Her bones felt liquid. She had to lock her knees if she wanted to remain upright. And she did. Fred had made her wary. She wasn’t about to fall into bed with the first guy who turned her on. Been there, done that.

The kiss went on, drugging her with its passion, seducing her with its promise. Mild surprise registered when Devon cupped her bottom and pulled her closer.

She should stop, break the kiss. But it had been so long since she’d felt anything even remotely close to desire or passion, and it felt so good, so right. Okay, she was selfish. She was using Devon.

She wasn’t ready for the kiss to end.

He pulled her closer, blurring her thoughts with the feel of his erection pushing against her, making her moist, needy.

She squirmed against him, blindly seeking what his hardness offered. Would it be so bad to take a chance?

Devon slid his left hand around and down to the edge of Jamie’s short skirt, encouraged when she did nothing to stop him.

The smooth silkiness of her thigh made him weak in the knees. Up, up, up his hand inched. He paused to play with the incredible softness of her inner thigh, drawing patterns on her flesh.

She shifted, giving him greater access.

At the edge of her damp panty, he traced the leg opening with the tip of his finger, holding his breath in anticipation of her shoving him away.

Instead, she widened her stance. His cock leaped for joy. Maybe his dry spell was finally coming to an end.

He dipped his finger beneath the elastic and probed her wet heat.

Someone groaned. Maybe him.

Her hot hand gripped his wrist. But instead of pulling his hand away, she pushed it deeper between her legs, along her velvety folds.

She whimpered, pressing down on his hand.

After playing with her slick folds a moment, he inserted his fingertip.

Jamie went wild, coming down on his hand until his entire finger was deeply embedded, then riding him. Hard.

Her excitement was palpable. His hips began a rhythmic arching between his arm and Jamie’s leg, his penis begging for more.

Her back arched, her breath caught. Internal muscles clenched, drawing his finger deeper still while her moisture drenched his hand.

Before he could assimilate her actions, much less drop his pants and bury himself in her, she pulled away from him, straightening her skirt, eyes wide.

“I’m sorry!” Her voice was breathy, like a woman who’d just climaxed. Which she had. Splendidly. “Please. Don’t say anything. Just go. I’m so embarrassed!”

Resisting the need to rearrange himself, Devon strode to the door, not stopping until he stood on the other side.