Tara’s heart stuttered.
Was that a dare?
A serious dare?
Judging from the look in his eye, it was.
She’d been stunned to hear his voice in the crowded restaurant, because she’d been thinking about him. For a second, she’d assumed it was her imagination going crazy, but then she’d turned around and there he was. Standing beside her. So tall and broad and yummy.
It wasn’t fair for a man to be so beautiful.
And there were two of them. He had a brother.
She glanced at
Tina and Charlie, who had their heads together, laughing about some crazy thing a friend had done. While Charlie shared Devlin’s features, almost to a T, his brother had rougher edges. Scars.
But his scars
didn’t make him less striking. They gave his face a deeper character. Judging from Tina’s reaction to him, Charlie’s life experience made him even more attractive.
When the waiter came to take their plates and ask hopefully if they’d saved room for dessert, Charlie and
Tina emerged from their cocoon. “No dessert for us,” Charlie said, tossing his napkin onto the table. “Tina and I are going out dancing.”
Devlin gaped at his brother. “D-dancing?” His gaze flicked down to the wheelchair.
Charlie leaned forward, his chin jutting stubbornly. “Dancing. I know a place.”
“How can you know a place for dancing?” Devlin
must have realized how patronizing he sounded, because he grimaced.
Fortunately, Charlie didn
’t appear offended. “Because I get out,” he quipped. “In fact,
I
have a life. There’s a club down the street that has great live music.” He turned to Tara and offered an impish grin. “Come with us?”
“I…” She
hesitated, but then she noticed Tina’s hopeful-puppy expression. “Of course.”
Tara allowed Devlin to pick up
the tab for dinner because he insisted and, after all, he had agreed to work off his debt to her. Besides, he said he could write it off. But it chafed. It made this interaction feel too much like a date.
She didn’t want to date him. She didn’t want to date anyone.
But she did want to fuck him.
So as they made their way out of the restaurant into the balmy summer Seattle night,
strolling down the street toward the club Charlie knew, and his fingers twined with hers, she didn’t pull away.
In an unspoken accord, they both fell back, letting Charlie and Tina lead the way. The two were chatting like magpies, completely enraptured.
Charlie’s absorption when he looked up at her, as he pushed his wheelchair forward, was telling. As was her responding interest.
“
We may have started something there,” Devlin murmured into her ear.
She shivered as his warm breath skated over her cheek. “Hmm. They have a lot in common.”
“They do. But they like each other too. A lot, it appears.”
She
peeked at him. A mistake. His blue eyes held a warmth that sent an electric charge through her. Her brain sizzled and popped. Which was probably why she opened her mouth and said, “Maybe it’s a genetic attraction.”
“Genetic attraction?”
Heat rose on her cheeks. She turned away so he wouldn’t notice, but she suspected, from his chuckle, that he did. “We are all twins.”
“Are you saying you
’re attracted to me too, Ponytail?”
She tried to untangle their fingers, but he tugged her closer.
“Are you?” A whisper.
“You know I am.” Okay. She probably didn’t need to snarl, but he was pushing this a little too far. Declarations were not her thing. Not by a long shot. “But I’ve been attracted to
lots of guys before.”
“Hmm.” Clearly he did not appreciate this tidbit. “And how did that work out?”
She sent him a reptilian grin. “Dismally.”
“Okay.” He blew out a
sigh and stopped. He still had a hold of her hand so, perforce, she stopped with him. “Where does that put us?”
Tara glanced down the street. Tina and Charlie had continued on,
in a world of their own, oblivious they’d lost their companions. Devlin set a finger on her chin and turned her attention back to him. The warmth of his touch irritated her.
This guy could s
et a fire with a minute caress.
“Us?” She deliberately didn’t answer, lobbing the conversational ball back into his court.
“Us.” His brow darkened with resolve. And hell, he lobbed it right back. “You’re attracted to me and I’m attracted to you. We are attracted to each other. So…where do we go from here?”
“Fuck buddies.”
Did she imagine his features tightened at that? “Fuck buddies.”
“You did say you wanted to work off your karmic debt to me.”
He studied her for a long while. “I, ah, assumed you were joking about that.”
She had been. Kind of. But the fact of the matter was, the gambit served a great purpose. If he thought he was expunging his guilt over that crappy review and softening her epic grudge against him, he wouldn’t assume what they had was anything
other than casual sex. He wouldn’t go into caveman relationship mode. She hated caveman relationship mode. She firmed her chin. “Take it or leave it, Devlin.”
His response was immediate. He flashed a tight smile, one that didn’t reach his eyes, and clipped, “Take it.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
“Good.”
“Good.”
They stared at each other for a long charged moment. The tension around them sizzled and spat. Tara had no idea why there was any tension at all. This was what they both wanted. This was certainly what she
needed
.
Clearly, all the tension was coming from him.
Indeed, his muscles were bunched, his shoulders set. His chin—that lovely, delicious chin—was tight. A muscle flexed in his cheek, as though he were grinding his teeth. But it was the look in his eyes that scored her, haunted her.
Surely that wasn’t
longing?
“Yoo hoo!” A warble echoed down the moonlit street. Tara glanced at Tina and Charlie, who had reached the club. Her sister waved wildly. “Are you joining us?” she called.
“Shall we?” Devlin asked, offering her his arm.
“Yes,” she responded. But they both knew they weren’t talking about heading for the club.
Again, they were talking about something else altogether.
The Pit Stop was a funky little bar with tables and booths surrounding an open dance floor. A fiddler’s band played on the small stage at the far end. It wasn’t the kind of music Devlin gravitated to, being more of a rock and roll kind of guy, but he liked it a lot.
The place was humming on a Saturday night, but it wasn’t hard finding a table near the floor. In fact, a couple of soldiers in uniform waved Charlie over when they saw him roll down the ramp
into the establishment. After a short conversation, they vacated their table for them, heading to perch at the bar instead.
“That was nice of them,” Tina said
, taking her seat.
Charlie
winked. “They’re friends. They probably think we’re on a date and want to give me an advantage.”
Devlin did
n’t miss Tina’s blush. Couldn’t miss it. It was practically neon. He also didn’t miss her frown when the waitress sidled up to his brother and gave him a sultry wink. “Hey Charliebear.”
“Hey Monica.”
She set a bowl of peanuts and pretzels on the table. “What can I get you to drink? The usual?”
The usual?
“Yep. And what do you guys want? Beer?” He turned to Tina. “Wine?”
They all rattled off their beverage preferences, but Devlin was in something of a daze. When the waitress left, and Tina and Tara skipped off to the bathroom, as women
were wont to do, in herds, he leaned over to his brother. “Do you come here often?”
Charlie barked a laugh. “Is that a pick up line?”
Devlin smacked him. “Be serious. Do you?”
“Occasionally.”
“Occasionally enough that the waitress knows you name…and your drink?”
Charlie shrugged. “I like it here. The music is great.”
A woman in a slinky dress passed by and blew a kiss. Charlie sketched a salute. Devlin gaped at him.
Holy crap. Despite his disability, his brother did have a life.
The fiddlers kicked into another song and Charlie kept time by tapping his fingers on the table. He looked over his shoulder toward the bathrooms. Apparently Tina had been away from his side for too long.
“Are you serious about dancing?” Devlin tried not to glance at the chair and failed. The thought of Charlie spinning on the dance floor—being stared at by strangers—mortified him.
“I am serious. I love dancing.” Charlie’s eyes glimmered. He leaned closer. “Brother, sometimes you
’ve got to work with what you’ve got.”
A
flutter of movement snagged Devlin’s attention. Tara. She and her sister wound their way back to the table, attracting the attention of nearly every man in the bar. She was gorgeous. They both were.
Sometimes
you’ve got to work with what you’ve got.
And w
hat did he have? A powerful need for a woman. A woman who was attracted to him, but probably nothing more. Was that enough to work with?
“
And what if you don’t have enough?”
Charlie followed his gaze and clapped Devlin on the shoulder. “You always have enough
,” he said. “Sometimes you just have to get creative with it.”
Resolve formed in Devlin’s gut. Yeah, maybe all he had with her was some casual attraction, a fleeting fuckery…for now. But if he was determined, and if he worked what he had very hard, maybe someday it could be more.
But he would have to step cautiously with her. Let their…whatever it was sink slowly into a relationship. This he knew, understood, on an instinctual level. If he pushed too hard or moved too fast, he could lose her.
She wanted casual? He’d give her casual.
And hope she didn’t just take what she wanted and then waltz away. Sure, it was a risky strategy—one might even call it a dare—but what choice did he have?
And maybe, if he was very lucky, he’d keep her long enough. Long enough for her to change her mind about him. About them.
He not only wanted something beyond casual. He
needed
it.
As soon as the ladies returned to the table, Charlie took Tina out “
for a spin” on the dance floor, maneuvering his chair through the crowd like a pro. And contrary to Devlin’s expectations, the patrons of the bar did not stare at him or laugh or talk about him behind his back. They cheered him on.
It was a huge relief.
Devlin shifted his attention to Tara, sitting next to him, watching the couples twirl on the floor. God she was beautiful. Her dark eyes, her silky hair, the cut of her cheek. Her warmth. He wanted her.
Oh, he had wanted her all night
. Before that. Always.
But t
his was a deeper kind of want. His resolve swelled.
The ba
nd started a new song, a slower one.
Devlin ginned.
Perfect.
“Shall we dance?”
Her gaze snapped to his. Surprise flared
on her delicate features. Really? Had she not expected this?
“I…ah. I’m not much of a dancer.” She glanced back out at the floor.
He took her hand and stood. “It’s easy,” he said with a wink. “All you have to do is hold on.”
And she better hold on. He was taking her for a ride she would never forget.
Lord
, he smelled good. That was the only thought in Tara’s head as she followed Devlin out onto the dance floor. She trailed in his wake, suffused by the scent of his cologne. But it wasn’t his cologne…it was
him
.
W
hen he turned and pulled her into his arms—sealing them together, probably too close, but not nearly close enough—all thoughts flew from her head. A memory, a visceral memory, engulfed her. The two of them, entwined.
“I like this music.” His voice rumbled through her as they moved to the beat.
“Hmm. Me too.” Was that his hand skating over her back? It sent shivers up and down her spine.
“It’s nice.” He traced her nape and her
pulse hitched.
“
Mmm.”
He led her in a spin that made her dizzy. Or
maybe that was the brush of his groin against hers. The kiss of his hard arousal. The fact that he was hot for her, here, now, amidst a crowd of strangers, excited her.
Inspired her.
He had agreed to her terms. She should be thrilled. She was thrilled. But a part of her was incensed that he had.
A part of her wanted to punish him for that.
They took a few more steps and she returned the favor, rubbing herself against him like a cat on a tuna can. At the same time, she scored her nails along his nape. She loved his guttural groan. It was only a breath, and only in her ear, but it stated—as though he had crowed it aloud—he was completely focused on her every move.
“Tara…”
She peeped up at him. “Yes, Devlin?” A purr.
“Are you teasing me?”
“Who, me?” The batted lashes were probably not necessary. But she liked that the two of them were moving from the earlier awkwardness into roles she understood. She hadn’t liked the intensity, the crackling sentiment that had risen up between them tonight. Their relationship had always been casual, playful. She was comfortable there—
Her heart
froze as she realized what she’d just thought. Their
relationship
?
They didn’t have a relationship.
They had a series of meaningless—although very satisfying—trysts. Trysts did not a relationship make.
Aggravated
with herself at the lapse, she pressed into him again, determined to prove, once and for all, that was all this was. She was gratified that he responded. Exactly as he should.
With lust.
He spun her to the edge of the crowd, where the shadows lingered and pressed her up against the wall. The scrape of his teeth against the tender flesh of her neck made her knees wobble.
“Are you teasing me?” Again, a hushed whisper, but with a band of steel.
In response, she skated her hand over his silky shirt, down the broad muscles of his back, and around front, to wedge between them. “Hmm?”
“Tara…”
She cupped him. He was hard. Engorged. She could feel his pulse thrumming there, in tandem with the ticking vein on his brow. She went up on her tiptoes and nibbled at the underside of his chin, then made her way along the line of his jaw to suck the little spot below his ear, all the while, stroking his heavy cock between their bodies.
He hissed out a harsh breath and pressed them closer together, trapping her hand. “I’m warning you.”
She tipped back her head and shot him a grin. “Are you?” His hot gaze blazed into her. “What are you going to do? Teach me a lesson? Here? In public?” This she offered in a pouty tone as she raked her nails over his chest. When she hit his nipples, his entire body clenched.
He
flicked a quick glance over his shoulder and around the room and then, without a word, took her arm and yanked her into the hallway leading to the bathrooms.
“Devlin!” she squealed, “I was kidding!”
But he, apparently, was not.
H
oly Hannah.
That she could inflame him so, with a couple whispers, a caress here or there… Well, it inflamed her too.
He made his way down the empty hall, opening and closing doors. The bathrooms he passed by completely. But then he found a room, way at the back of the hall, a storage room filled with brooms and buckets
and cases of toilet paper, and yanked her inside.
“Devlin…”
“Hush.”
He silenced her with a kiss, a wild hot, scorching kiss. It was brain numbing, but somewhere in the vast reaches of
time and space, she recognized the sound of the lock clicking shut.
H
e backed her up against the door, fisted his fingers in her hair and held her still as he ravaged her mouth.
He played her, played her like the members of the band played their fiddles. Soft and hard, fast and furious, stretching her nerves and scraping her sanity.
Though he was much taller than she. He insinuated his legs between hers and edged her legs apart, then bent and pressed his hard cock against her sensitive clit. And rubbed.
She nearly fainted from the ribbons of pleasure
wrapping around her, tightening her. Binding her in delight. Her body ached, her nipples pebbled, her pussy wept.
Lord,
she wanted him. Needed this.
Craved it.
“Yes, yes.”
His response was a grunt. A shift. He skimmed one hand down her flank, pausing to toy with her nipple. Only when he had her shaking did he continue to the hem of her skirt.
Teasing fingers danced their way back up, beneath the fabric.
He found her center—how could he not, it was hot and wet and swollen—and traced her gently
over her panties.
Then he slipped beneath the band.
The touch of his fingertip on her throbbing clitoris nearly did her in. Hard and tight and aching, it screamed for more. He slipped deeper.
“Devlin
—”
“Hush.”
His tongue played with her lips, teasing at first, and then he thrust it in. At the same moment, he plunged his fingers deep inside her, stroking her, tormenting her, filling her.
She threw back her head and made a feral sound.
“Hush. We don’t want to get caught.”
Her pulse launched into overdrive.
They were in public.
She’d nearly forgotten. Hell, she
had
forgotten. It horrified her. And excited her.
The conflicting emotions paralyzed her.
Naturally, he took advantage, continuing, deepening his exploration. She came a little when he thrust in another finger, then came a lot when he added yet another, sinking deep and nudging her here and there and then…
yes, yes, yes
. “Right there. Yes.”
“You’
re so wet.” A growl in her ear.
“I’m wet for you.”
A snarl. “And so fucking hot.”
“I’m hot for you.”
He pulled back and glared at her. Perhaps it wasn’t a glare, but it was intense and fierce and angry. “Are you? Are you hot for me?”
“You know I am.”
“What do you want?” She loved his tone, how clipped and snarly it was.
“You, baby. I want you.”
“Who?” A bark.
“What?” He stopped moving inside her and she wiggled a little, to remind him of his task.
“Who do you want?”
“You.” She reached for his cock again—
to motivate him—but he pressed it against her leg, so she couldn’t reach it. She frowned at him.
“Say my name.”
Ah.
“Devlin. I want you, Devlin. I want you to fuck me.”
He did something inside her, something she’d never felt before
, and a curtain of heat descended, consuming her face, her neck, her breasts, her belly and finally, her womb. She seized. “Oh. Oh. Oh.”
Rapture.
He continued to play her, to keep her orgasm alive, as he unzipped his pants and pulled out his cock. She was possessed of the urge to sink to her knees, to pull him into her mouth and suck him dry, but he did not allow it.
Instead, he slipped on a condom, giving her a dark, determined glance, then wound her loose hair around his fist and turned her, angled her, so she was standing before him. And then he bent her over.
“Spread your legs.”
She did so, too addlepated to think about the sopping panties she still wore.
He had not forgotten them.
He slipped his fingers into the crotch and ripped them off in one harsh yank. She didn’t even have the wherewithal to protest because without delay, he took her.
H
is cock felt good, slipping into her folds. So large and full. Warm. Thrumming. He thrust deep, taking her all the way.
The hovering orgasm pinged again and she clenched
at him.
He sucked in a breath. “Is this what you want? Is this why you were teasing me tonight?” Another thrust.
“Yes. Yes.” She might have been answering his question, or not. It hardly mattered. She suspected it had been a rhetorical question anyway.
“God
, baby.” He anchored his grip on her hips and held her steady, yanking out and plunging deep again. Each lunge sent slivers of delight dancing along every nerve. “So tight. So deep.”
The sound of fl
esh slapping flesh mingled with their grunts and groans, the music thrumming through the amplifiers a mere wraith in the background. Everything was there, in that place they connected. As though all existence shrank down to that one magnificent merging.
She spread her legs further and pushed back into him, flattening herself against him as he took her from behind. With each lunge, his balls slapped against her raw clit. As his pace increased, tightened, became more frantic, the sensation intensified, overtook her.
She didn’t even bother holding back. She gave her release full rein. Her body seized, shook. Her pulse raced. A wet heat flooded her. Sensation exploded, taking her along on a spinning journey, a panoply of dancing colors and mindless joy.
His thrusts devolved into short, hard jerks and then to nothing but shudders. But each movement
beset her with a wash of gentle bliss, like a receding wave, leisurely lapping the shore.
Still buried deep, he
held her as they recovered.
Why was it he always left her gasping for breath? Brainless and boneless and wanting more?
She sighed and relaxed against him.
“Good?” He murmured, kissing her neck and running a hand down her body.
“Hmm.” So good. So incredibly fucking good.
He
slipped beneath her skirt again and stroked her sensitive clit. She lurched as another wave scudded her senses and they separated. She forced a chuckle. “Sorry,” she said, not meeting his eye. It wouldn’t do for him to know how deeply that had affected her. In fact,
she
didn’t even want to face it. “Where are my panties?”
He looked around,
squinting against the murk of a room lit by nothing more than the flickering beacon of the smoke alarm. “Here they are.” He picked them up and held them out to her.
She
couldn’t hold back a snort.
“What?”
“You shredded them.” She dangled them between her fingers. Good God. They were destroyed. “Do you have any idea how much these cost?”
He shot her a crooked grin
as he pulled up his pants. “Sorry?”
She frowned. “Not only did you drag me back into a storage closet filled with nasty mops—”
“They are hardly nasty at all.”
“And fuck me like a two penny whore—”
“I would definitely have paid more.”
“You shredded my underwear. Shredded them.”
“I’ll buy you new ones.” His expression indicated he might enjoy the prospect.
She smacked him with them and broke out in a laugh when he grabbed them and brought them to his nose, taking a big gusty whiff. “Devlin Fox!”
Her admonishment had no effect. In fact he waggled his brows, murmured “Yummy,” and tucked her bedraggled panties in his pocket.
“What do you think you
’re doing?”
His lips curved
. “Keeping them.”
“For what?”
He suddenly sobered. His gaze was scorching. “For later.”
She sighed. “What do you need them
for…later?”
He leaned in and kissed her. In the hazy green glow of the
smoke alarm, she couldn’t help but notice the harsh, hungry lines of his face. “Because, darling, now we have to go out there and chit chat and act as though we didn’t just fuck like animals in this broom closet. And for the rest of the night, I have to deal with the knowledge that you aren’t wearing any panties.”
She shook her head. “But what does that—”
Realization dawned.