Wrong Place, Wrong Time (24 page)

This was too good to pass up.

Devon rose, combing her hair with her fingers and marching to the foyer. “Blake?” she called as she rounded the bend and Louise came into view. “I think I smell something burning. Should I check on the — oh, excuse me.” She came to a halt, her expression rife with fabricated surprise. “I didn’t realize anyone was here. Ms. Chambers, isn’t it?” She gave Louise a bright smile. “We met the other day.”

“Yes, we did.” Louise was clearly choking on her words and on her smile. “Dr. Montgomery. Nice to see you.”

“Please — it’s Devon.” Devon shifted her innocent gaze to Blake. “I didn’t realize Ms. Chambers would be joining us for dinner.”

“She’s not.” Blake’s lids were hooded, his jaw set. He was pissed off. Whether it was because Louise had intruded or because her unwelcome timing was a glaring proclamation that there really was something going on between them and he’d lied through his teeth — that remained to be seen.

“I appreciate your concern, Louise.” There was a definite note of finality in his tone. “But I’m hanging in. We all are.”

Enough time had passed for Louise to regain her composure. “Of course we are. There’s no other choice.” She flashed another, equally plastic smile at Devon. “I’m sorry I intruded — Devon. Enjoy your dinner.”

“Thank you — Louise. And you enjoy your evening.”

Blake shut the door and turned around, arms folded across his chest. “What was that?”

“You tell me,” Devon shot back. “I think it was the woman you’re not seeing and not friends with, dropping by to offer you comfort in bed.”

“I know what
that
was. What was your little one-woman show? If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were staking your claim, and warning Louise to back off.”

Devon bristled. “That goes to show how arrogant you are. This has nothing to do with staking a claim. It’s exposing a lie. Being cryptic is one thing. Lying is another.”

Blake glared back. “I wasn’t lying. Louise and I are colleagues. Before last week, we never spoke outside the office. But she was pretty freaked out by Frederick’s death. So she’s called a couple of times. We’ve talked. Period.”

“And this impromptu visit?”

“Her first. She’s never been here. I’ve never been to her place. And, for the record, I resent like hell being interrogated. If I didn’t want to get past these ridiculous misconceptions of yours, I’d be ripping mad. So, for the last time, I’m not sleeping with Louise, seeing Louise, or palling around with Louise.”

“She’d obviously love to change that.”

“I’m not responsible for Louise’s agenda, only my own. Now, do I go back to the kitchen and make dinner, or do I take you to bed the way I’ve wanted to since last Sunday?”

Devon’s mouth opened, then snapped shut. “What?”

“You heard me. Which is it?”

“Bed.” The word was out before Devon could censor it. Not that she would have. She wanted Blake as much as he wanted her.

His gaze darkened at her reply, and he leaned forward, yanking her against him. He tilted up her chin and covered her mouth with his in a kiss that blew their last one out of the water.

Sensation roared to life, and Devon gave a soft, shaky moan, wrapping her arms around Blake and throwing herself into the moment. She pressed closer, slanting her lips against his and deepening the kiss.

Blake’s mouth ate at hers, and his hands slid under her bottom, lifting her and fitting the contours of her body to his. She wriggled against him, raising her legs to hug his flanks, whimpering at the friction of his erection rubbing against the sensitive skin between her thighs. Even through their layers of clothes, the sensation was exquisite.

Muttering something hot and unintelligible, Blake backed Devon to the staircase, half walking, half carrying her up to the second floor and around the bend to the master bedroom. She was tugging at his sweater as he crossed the threshold, and he set her on her feet beside the bed, dragging the sweater over his head and flinging it aside. They stared at each other for one burning moment, their breath coming in short, hard pants.

“You’re sure?” he managed in a gravelly tone.

“Very.” Devon tugged off her own sweater, dropping it onto the carpet.

“Let me.” Blake moved closer, unhooking her bra and gliding the straps down her shoulders. Sparks glinted in his eyes, and his hands followed his gaze, molding her breasts in a lingering caress that sent lightning bolts of heat shooting through her.

Devon’s eyes slid shut, and a hard shudder ran through her as his thumbs grazed her nipples. She reached for his slacks, fumbling with the zipper as he pulled her against him, rubbing her naked breasts across his bare chest.

“Blake — don’t,” she choked out. “This is torture.”

His response was to lower her onto the bed, breaking away long enough to shed the rest of his clothes. He chucked them aside, then turned his attention to Devon, who’d just squirmed out of her slacks. He made quick work of her thong, then lowered himself onto her, pressing her into the mattress and touching every inch of her body with his.

She arched to increase the sensations, biting her lip at the enormity of the physical pleasure. It was almost painful in its intensity. Blake muttered her name, his mouth hot against her skin, kissing her neck, her throat, her breasts. He went very still, then abruptly pushed up on his forearms, staring down at her with a burning amber gaze.

“I have to get inside you.” Sweat beaded his forehead, and his thighs were already wedging hers apart.

She nodded fervently, too aroused to speak. She was as wild for this as he was, her lower body lifting for his, her legs shifting to accommodate him.

His penis probed at the entrance to her body — once, twice — then pushed inexorably inside. He didn’t go slow. She wouldn’t let him. Her hands balled into fists, pushing at the base of his spine, urging him into her. He didn’t pause until he was all the way there, and even then, he pushed deeper.

Devon would have screamed if she hadn’t been so focused on the exquisite point of pleasure coiling tight inside her. It was just out of reach, and she’d die if she didn’t get there.

“Blake…” She heard the frantic plea in her own voice, felt the helpless arching of her body.

So did he.

With a muffled groan, Blake withdrew, then pushed back into her, gripping her bottom as he deepened his presence inside her, going that infinitesimal distance farther, closer to where she needed him to be.

Abruptly, he swore, muscles tensing as he went deadly still. “Dammit…” His teeth were clenched against a peak that was roaring down on them with the force and speed of a tidal wave. “Not yet…Not…yet…”

“Yes…now.” Devon negated his intentions, her head tossing back and forth on the pillow. She was frantic, so desperate for release she was shaking with it. “Now, now,
now
.”

The first tiny spasms began deep inside her, and Blake lost the battle in a rush. He withdrew a fraction, only to thrust all the way back in and then some. Devon cried out, her climax slamming through her with dizzying force. She convulsed again and again, her body shuddering helplessly as the pinnacle spun out in hot rings of sensation, draining her, milking him.

Blake lost it. With a low animal sound, he crushed their bodies together, erupting in a mind-numbing orgasm. He came in hard, pulsing spasms, his body jolting under the impact. Reflexively, he timed his rhythm to match hers, pushing into her contractions, matching them with his own.

He collapsed on top of her.

Neither of them moved. Their breath came in harsh pants, their bodies still trembling from the exertion of the past few minutes.

Blake swallowed hard, turning his lips into Devon’s hair. “Are you okay?” he asked hoarsely.

“I’m not sure,” she murmured. “I might be dead.”

His lips curved. “Trust me, you’re not.”

“If you say so.”

“I do. But if I keep crushing you, that might change.” He made two valiant attempts before finally managing to lift himself off of her, rolling onto his back with a groan. “I think I just reverted back to my teens. No, I take that back. I never lost it to that degree, not even then.”

A faint smile. “I’m flattered.” Devon paused, cracking open her eyes so she could see Blake. “And you’re amazing.”

“So are you.” He frowned as he saw her shiver, another level of awareness sinking in. “I don’t believe this. I didn’t even pull back the damn covers. Bad enough rushing you
into
bed. I rushed you
onto
bed.” He reached over, tugging her against him so he could wriggle the comforter and top sheet out from under her. “There.” He laid her down, climbing under with her. “Better?” He settled her against him.

“Ummm.” Devon nodded, her head pillowed on his chest. “Much.”

From where he’d sprawled in the bedroom doorway, Chomper barked, scrambling to attention.

“Shit,” Blake muttered. “He thinks it’s bedtime. Which means he wants to go out and do his business.”

Devon’s shoulders began to shake with laughter. “I’d suggest getting dressed. It’s ten degrees outside. Your teenage parts might freeze.”

“Cute.” Blake hesitated, visibly reluctant to leave. “You know,” he murmured, threading his fingers through her hair. “I should be offended. You fell asleep while I was slaving away in the kitchen.”

“I apologize.”

“You’re forgiven. You made up for it.”

“Consider it dessert first. Which reminds me, is dinner burned to a crisp?”

“Nope. It never made it into the oven. I’ll rectify that now, when I take Chomper out. I’ll just make a few minor adjustments to my serving plan. Instead of fine china and candles, we’ll do snack trays and paper, and we’ll have dinner in bed.”

“That sounds wonderful. I’m ravenous.”

“I wonder why.”

Devon’s eyes twinkled. “Guess I’m a teenager, too.”

Another bark, this one more insistent.

“You’re being paged.”

“So I heard.” Blake climbed out of bed, yanking on a pair of sweats and snapping his fingers at Chomper. “I’ll be back soon,” he told Devon.

“I’ll be here.” She snuggled into the bed, feeling boneless and replete, her muscles as weak as if she’d run a marathon. She wondered if she had enough strength left to eat.

Or to do what she’d come here to do.

Devon was half-asleep when, thirty minutes later, Blake strode back into the bedroom, Chomper at his heels. It didn’t take a scholar to figure out why the pup was glued to his master. Blake was carrying two snack trays of food. Chomper was sniffing the air and waiting for the great aromas to translate into great table scraps.

“Wake up,” Blake announced. “Dinner is served.”

“I’ll try.” Devon squirmed into a sitting position, plumping a pillow and propping it behind her. “Okay. I’m fully conscious,” she determined, settling herself against the headboard, the comforter tucked around her.

“Glad to hear it.” He placed a tray across her lap. “By the way, you owe Chomper an apology, too. He was really put out earlier when you fell asleep on the sofa and started dripping wine on him. I took your glass before it hit the floor.”

Soberly, Devon regarded Chomper. “Sorry, boy. I’ll make it up to you. I’ll share.” She gave a bemused shake of her head. “I’ve never fallen asleep on a date before. Tonight I did it twice.”

“Extenuating circumstances. Both times. The first because you’ve never had so many high-stress stimuli exploding in your face all at once. And the second — hey, that I take full responsibility for.”

“Not
full
responsibility. I had some say in it.”

“Yeah, you did.” Blake tossed aside his sweats and slid back into bed beside her, draping the other tray across his own lap. “Dinner is served.”

Startled admiration flashed across Devon’s face as she regarded the meal. He’d worked really hard, she thought, feeling touched. Dinner was salmon fillets garnished with basil and parsley, all over rice, beside which were dollops of dill sauce, fresh green beans, and a mixed tossed salad.

“This is lovely,” Devon murmured. “A veritable feast. Really.” She glanced up at Blake and smiled. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure.”

Chomper barked, tugging the comforter with his teeth.

“Don’t worry,” Blake assured him. “There’s a little of everything saved for you. After that, you’ll have to settle for your food.”

Another bark, this one in protest.

“Sorry. We can’t go totally people food. Not when we’re trying to impress your doctor with our healthful habits.”

Devon began to laugh. “I’m already impressed. But I have to agree, Chomper. Your food is best. It’ll help you grow strong and healthy.”

Chomper didn’t look convinced. He did, however, dive into the small plate of table scraps Blake leaned over and placed beside the bed, making quick work of it. He then bounded off to the kitchen to his own bowl, hunger winning out over pickiness.

“Maybe we’ll have a few minutes of peace,” Blake said, turning his attention to his dinner — and his dinner partner. “So, what’s the verdict?” he asked as Devon dipped a piece of salmon in dill sauce and tasted it.

“Delicious.” Devon didn’t have to fake her enthusiasm. “You might just win this contest.”

“You’d never allow that.”

“You’re right. Which means I’ll have to come up with an amazing recipe to trump yours.”

“I’ll give you a week. Not a day more. And this time,
I’ll
bring dessert. We’ll have it first again.”

“Same kind I brought?”

“Similar. Only this time hotter, so we have to savor it slowly.”

A tiny shiver went through Devon. “Savor it, maybe,” she murmured. “But hotter? I don’t think it gets much hotter than it just did.”

“We’ll find out, won’t we? Next Friday. Your place.”

“Next Friday.” Devon repeated his words, the provocative aura of the past hour eclipsed by a harsh dose of reality. “I’m not sure I’ll have the place to myself yet.”

The silence that ensued was a vivid reminder of the events defining the past week — events that had brought them together.

“Is your family staying until your mother’s home?” Blake inquired carefully.