Make Me Scream (17 page)

W
hen Devon opened his eyes, he was flat on his back next to Jamie’s window. It hurt, but he turned his head. He was alone.

Good thing, too. If he’d seen the coward who’d clocked him, he’d kick his ass.

He stood and grabbed the wall until the wave of dizziness left him.

Okay, maybe the guy’s ass was safe.

Right now, he needed a stiff drink, a soft bed and an extra-strength pain reliever. Not necessarily in that order.

A glance confirmed that Jamie’s lights were still on.

He sighed. Rest would have to wait. He needed to make sure she was okay.

Jamie dried her face as she walked from the bathroom, pausing until she heard Devon’s voice call through the door.

She swung the door open to see him leaning against the frame, his hand covering his face.

“Are you all right?” She tugged until he was inside the door and then shut it again. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” he said in a muffled voice. “I just wanted to double-check that you were okay before I went home. Night.”

“Wait! What’s going on?” She grabbed his arm as he passed, turning him toward the light. “Oh, my gosh! What happened? Do you need to put ice on it?”

Devon’s nose was swollen beneath both eyes a shade or two darker than usual.

“No,” he assured her. “I’m fine. Really. Just had a little accident, that’s all. After I picked myself up, I decided I should check on you one more time.” He grinned and winced and then touched his nose and winced again. “I wanted to make sure my clumsiness hadn’t rubbed off on you.”

Tugging him until she could reach the freezer, she took out a small bag of frozen peas and handed it to him. “You’re not going anywhere until you put something on that.”

While he sat with the bag on his face, she rummaged around in the drawer until she found the small bottle of Tylenol she’d bought at the grocery store. She shook some into her hand and got a glass of water. “Here. Take these. And drink the whole glass of water.”

He peeked around the plastic bag and took the pills, throwing them into his mouth and gulping the entire glass of water. “There,” he said, handing back the empty glass, “are you happy now?”

“Not really. Not until you tell me what really happened.”

“I tripped.”

“Why don’t I believe you?”

He stood and tossed the peas back into the freezer section. Walking back to her, he gripped her shoulders and pulled her into a kiss that curled her toes.

“Because,” he said when he finished kissing her senseless, “you are a suspicious person.” He kissed the tip of her nose and stepped back. “I have some work to do, and then I’m getting a good night’s sleep. I suggest you do the same. See you bright and early tomorrow, sunshine.”

She stood staring at the door after he left. It certainly looked as though someone had punched Devon in the nose.

With a sigh, she walked over and locked the door. If he didn’t stop lying to her, she might be the next person to punch his lights out.

“I smell bacon,” Francyne said as she walked into Devon’s apartment the next morning. “You didn’t tell me you were making breakfast for me. I already had a bowl of All-Bran. ’Course, I wouldn’t turn down a cup of coffee—holy shit! What happened to you?”

She reached and turned his face to the light. “You’re working on a set of black eyes. Somebody punch you?”

“Nah. Just clumsy. Here.”

He grinned and handed her a filled mug with the flavored creamer she favored already in it.

“You’re a good boy,” she said, patting his cheek. After taking a sip, she sighed and looked up at him. “You’re going to make someone a good wife someday.”

“Very funny.”

“So,” Francyne said, leaning against the counter, “who’s coming for breakfast, as though I didn’t know?”

“Jamie,” he answered, his head bent over the biscuits in the oven. He straightened, wiping his hands on the towel tucked into the waistband of his shorts. “We’re going to go to the beach for a couple hours after we eat. I printed up some lease applications, in case you get a rush while I’m gone.”

That earned a snicker.

“Yeah, I don’t think I’ll hold my breath on that. Did Rick tell you his faucet is leaking again? I’ll call the plumber as soon as I’m finished with my coffee.”

“I can take a look at it when I get back.”

Francyne snorted. “Like I said, I’ll call a plumber.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He stirred the gravy and put the lid on the tureen.

“It means you’re a great guy, pumpkin, and we love you, but a fix-it man you are not. Remember Drew’s shower fiasco last year? It’s cheaper to call a plumber.”

“It’s open,” Devon called a few seconds later when a knock sounded.

Jamie entered, looking very tan and sexy in a white fishnet cover-up over a very revealing bright yellow bikini.

“Hi, Francyne!” Jamie looked genuinely pleased to see the old lady. “Where’s Petunia?”

Francyne gave a dismissive wave of her hand. “Ah, she and Killer frolicked most of the night. Finally had to separate them. They’re sleeping in. Soon as I finish my coffee and make a call, I’ll go get them and take them out and then bring them back here.”

“Good morning, Dev—oh, my! Have you looked at your face this morning?” Jamie walked close enough for him to smell her coconut suntan lotion. It conjured up ideas of licking her delectable body, which brought a fresh stab of pain in his nose.

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I have. Yes, I am aware both of my eyes are black. And, yes, I think my nose is probably broken. And, no, I do not plan to go to the doctor. I plan to sit down and enjoy our breakfast and then brush my teeth and head for the beach. The sun will help my headache and your tan. Now sit. Eat before it gets cold.” He pulled out a chair for her. “Francyne? Would you like something? There’s plenty.”

“Oh, no, thanks. If I don’t watch my figure, no one else will.”

“I’m sure they try not to,” he whispered in Jamie’s ear, eliciting a smothered giggle.

“Well,” Francyne said as she walked to put her empty cup in the dishwasher, “I’ll get going and leave you two lovebirds to your breakfast. Killer and Petunia will be hopping around with their legs crossed if I don’t get them out soon.”

They ate their breakfast in silence after Francyne left and then cleaned up and left for the beach.

Jamie took a deep breath of ocean air and grinned. “I could get used to living by the beach.”

Panic, totally disproportionate to the length of time they’d known each other, gripped Devon. Was Jamie planning to leave Surfside?

“Don’t worry,” he said with feigned nonchalance, “you’ll get used to it pretty quickly. Pretty soon you’ll be like everyone else and forget it’s here.” He grinned. “It’s a great little town, and the beach is one of the best-kept secrets of south Texas. I’d live here even if I didn’t work here.”

“It is nice,” she agreed, stepping down onto the sand. “But I don’t know how much longer my money will last. I can’t stay unemployed forever.” She watched a group of children building a sand castle. “Besides, I miss teaching.” She glanced his way. “I was good at it.”

“I’m sure you could be good at just about anything you tried.” The blanket he brought flapped in the breeze. Smoothing it in place, he sat and patted the spot next to him. “Have a seat. Is this spot all right? We’re in public, so we can’t get too carried away, and we’re also close to the boardwalk in case we get hungry or thirsty.”

“It’s fine.” She sat down and pulled her cover-up over her head. “Did you remember to bring a copy of your book for me to read?”

“No, I forgot. But don’t feel like you have to read it just because we’re, ah, friends.” He narrowed his eyes and leaned closer. “We are friends, aren’t we?”

In answer, she ran the tip of her finger along the edge of his lower lip and then met his gaze. “Of course we’re friends. More than just friends, I hope.”

He picked up his suntan oil. “You mean like BFF?”

She laughed and lightly punched his arm. “You are such a dork.”

Stretched out on the blanket, they relaxed and let the sound of the surf and the warmth of the sun lull them.

A shadow fell across Jamie’s face. When it didn’t move after a few minutes, she realized it was not a random cloud and opened her eyes.

Fred stared down at her.

Fear froze her vocal cords. Her hand refused to obey her command to nudge Devon. Now she knew what it meant to be paralyzed with fear.

She closed her eyes, praying for strength. When she opened them, Fred was gone. A look around found him walking down the boardwalk, away from them.

“Devon,” she finally managed to say. “Devon!” She touched the sun-warmed skin on his shoulder and gave a firm shake.

“Hmmm?” He raised his head, the imprint of the nubby blanket on one cheek. “What?”

“Were you asleep?” How could he lie there and calmly doze off when Fred was lurking?

He yawned and stretched. “I guess I was. Why, is there a problem?”

“Um, no.” No point in telling him about Fred, who was now out of sight. At least now she knew she had not been imagining things. “I just thought maybe we should pack up and go home.”

Devon stretched again and picked his watch out of the pile of clothing. Shielding his eyes, he squinted at the dial. “Yeah, I didn’t realize we’d been gone so long. I promised Francyne I’d be back by now.” He stood and stepped into his shorts, pulling his shirt over his head before speaking again. “Sorry we had to cut it short today. Maybe we can come back tomorrow or use the pool. Assuming you want to, that is.”

Shaking the sand out of the blanket, she took her time folding it, scanning the beach area and boardwalk. “Sure. Why don’t we try the pool tomorrow?” She touched his hip, lifting the hem of his shirt and turning him to the side. “Your scratches are just about gone. But that doesn’t mean you can get frisky again at the pool,” she warned when he grinned over his shoulder.

He pulled a mock defeated look. “Aw, you’re no fun.”

In reply, she stood on tiptoe and brushed her lips over his. “I’m plenty of fun. I just choose to keep private things, well, private.”

He gave her shapely butt a playful swat as they headed up the stairs to the boardwalk. “Okay, party pooper, let’s go back to my place and give you a chance to prove it.” He slung his arm over her shoulder, resisting the urge to pull her close for a kiss. “My apartment is
very
private, especially at this time of day. Tell you what, I’ll even put the
CLOSED
sign on the door and let you prove how much fun you are. What do you say to that?”

She stepped away and grinned. “First one to the apartment gets to shower first.”

He stood and watched her sprint toward the complex, enjoying the view, and then made his way slowly back home. Jamie didn’t know it, but it really didn’t matter who got there first.

They were still going to shower together.

B
y the time he closed the apartment door, Francyne had already left and the shower echoed from the walls of the bedroom.

Wasting no time, he shucked out of his shorts and trunks on the way into the bathroom.

Killer stood guard by the bathroom door, tongue lolling as he gave his master a doggy smile.

“Hey, buddy. How about a nice little nap? I know you didn’t get a good night’s sleep. I bet you’re tired. C’mon.”

Killer looked at him for a few seconds and then gamely followed him into the storage area and into the kennel.

Tamping down his guilt for imprisoning his dog, he made a silent promise to give Killer extra treats after supper.

The bathroom was steam filled, the warm smell of soap and shampoo permeating the air.

Through the frosted shower doors, he could see Jamie lathering her luscious body.

Mine
.

He slid open the door and stepped into the tub with her.

She jumped and turned to him, eyes wide.

He took the soap from her hand and began lathering her breasts, taking special care to massage them thoroughly.

“I already did that,” she said in a strangled voice.

“But I bet it didn’t feel this good, did it?”

She shook her head.

He slid the soap down her abdomen, appreciating her exfoliation.

Her breath hitched when he slid the soap between her legs.

He put the soap on the soap dish and bent his knees, rubbing his chest against her soapy one.

“I’m saving soap,” he said against her mouth and then kissed her.

On a scale of one to ten, he’d rank the kiss as about an eight, but it seemed to really rev Jamie up, so he continued kissing her, all the while rubbing against her and slipping his hands up and down her torso.

Water sluiced over them, ran between his legs, further inspiring Mr. Happy.

“Let’s get you rinsed,” he said around the constriction in his throat. He’d showered with plenty of women in his time. Well, okay, maybe plenty wouldn’t be exactly accurate, but he’d shared a shower a few times. And never, never had he felt the things he felt when he showered with Jamie.

It couldn’t be love. Could it?

Nah. He’d just been celibate for too long. Now that he’d found a playmate, he was just so grateful, it was easy to get confused. That’s all it was. Gratitude.

He turned Jamie until she faced the water, her back against his chest. He rinsed her breasts and then slid his hands slowly up and down her torso, sluicing all the water from her gorgeous body. In response, she did a little shimmy, rubbing her bottom against his erection.

Gratitude sex. He could live with that.

Jamie leaned heavily against the warm wall of Devon’s chest, glad he was supporting her. His hands slicked over her, rubbing, caressing, taunting until she thought she’d scream with sexual frustration.

On tiptoe, she rubbed her buttocks against his hot erection, wishing she was tall enough to take him from behind while standing up.

He splayed his fingers, spreading her legs. Eager, she complied and then shivered when his fingers slipped up and down, teasing her opening.

He held her open, the warm water running against her engorged folds, causing her hips to thrust, wanting more.

His thumb massaged her clitoris, weakening her knees. Pressure built. Impatient, she was all but dancing, riding his hand.

He plucked the hardened nub, bringing her to screaming release.

“Okay, that’s it!” Devon’s voice echoed in the enclosure.

He reached past her and twisted the shower control off. Grasping her by the waist, he picked her up and stepped from the tub.

“Wait!” She twisted in an attempt to reach a towel. “We’re all wet! We’re going to get the sheets wet. I—”

“Not a problem. I can’t make it to the bedroom.”

“You mean—”

“Yep. Right here. Right now.”

“Shouldn’t we at least dry off a little?”

He sat on the closed toilet seat lid and pulled her to him. “No time.”

His mouth closed over her nipple, sucking it deeply into his mouth as he pulled her onto his lap. He flexed his hips, burying himself to the hilt.

The feel of him deep within her body set off a new wave of pleasure that threatened to drown her in its intensity.

He held her tightly, thrusting deep, deeper than he’d ever been.

She loved it.

Clamping her knees against his lean hips, she rode him, meeting him, thrust for thrust.

He released her breast, clutching her to his heart while he pumped into her.

Their labored breathing echoed from the tiled walls. Harder. Faster.

He pushed his hand between them and flicked her nub, grinned when she gushed with renewed moisture.

He rubbed the pad of his thumb over her sensitized flesh. Once. Twice. Three times.

Devon watched the expression of bliss on Jamie’s beautiful face. No woman had ever responded to his touch the way she did. It was empowering as well as a gigantic turn-on.

Her back arched, her knees gripping his hips, her nipples erect as she shuddered her release.

Feeling her velvet clamping his cock, milking him, sent him tumbling over the precipice to free-fall along with her.

Once their breathing slowed down, they heard a small “Lark! Lark?” muffled by the door, followed by the distinctive sound of a dog pawing on the door.

Laughter rumbled in Devon’s chest, setting off chuckles in Jamie. “Either I didn’t latch it or he figured out how to open the door of his kennel.”

“Poor Killer,” she said, getting off Devon’s lap with as much dignity as she could muster. “He probably thinks we’re hurting each other in here.”

Devon reached for the sweatpants he kept hanging on the back of the door. “While I take him out and feed him, why don’t you think about what you would like for lunch.”

“Oh, that’s not necessary,” she said, slipping her cover-up over her head. “I can fix myself something at home.” Assuming she could concentrate enough to eat anything, knowing Fred was out there somewhere.

“Okay, how about this? I’ll take Killer out and then walk you home and wait while you get ready. Then we can decide where we want to go.”

She chewed her lower lip. “To tell the truth, after our last dinner date, I’m not sure it’s such a good idea.” Humiliation flared whenever she thought about it, in fact.

“Okay, how about this? I have some macaroni and tuna salad in the fridge. We can have that; then you can go home or stay here and watch TV or take a nap while I get some work done. Then, later, we can go out to eat. I know a little Mexican place down on the other end of the boardwalk. Very casual, so you can wear your flip-flops.” Slipping his feet into his flip-flops, he smiled up at her. “And it’s safe. No stairs.” He pulled her into his arms for a brief hug. “C’mon! We have to eat. Why not do it together?” He frowned. “Or is this your way of telling me you’re sick of me?”

“How can you even ask that, after what we just did?”

He shrugged. “I’m insecure.”

Her snicker echoed from the tile. “Yeah, right.”

Killer pawed at the door again, so Devon opened it. The dog trotted in, prancing in a circle around them.

Devon knelt and scratched the dog’s ear. “Do you need to go out? Tell Jamie you want her to come with us.” He looked up at her. “It won’t take long. What do you say? You wouldn’t want to disappoint Killer, would you?”

Killer smiled expectantly. Who could resist that little face?

“Okay. But let’s hurry. Suddenly I’m ravenous. I love macaroni and tuna salad. I think I’d like to just hang out around here, if you’re sure I won’t bother you. And I can’t remember the last time I had Mexican food. So I guess you have yourself a dinner date, too, assuming you’re not ready to be rid of me by then.”

Holding hands, they headed toward the beach, Killer trotting along. Devon had to remember their relationship was temporary, at best, and strictly sexual.

But, walking with her, holding her hand, it was getting more and more difficult to remember.

Damn, it sure felt like more.

“Aren’t you ready yet?” Devon bellowed from the living room, bringing a smile to Jamie while she wrestled her hair into a braid.

“Just a sec!” She surveyed her reflection. The yellow terry halter dress set off her new tan and had the added benefit of not wrinkling while she lounged on Devon’s couch. She could still look presentable when they went out later.

Devon whistled when Jamie walked out of the bathroom. “You look,” he said, going to her and pulling her into his arms, “good enough to eat.” He pretended to take a loud bite out of her neck, inordinately pleased when she squirmed and giggled in his arms. After brushing a kiss on the tip of her nose, he stepped back. “I just hope Killer can keep his paws off you.”

After lunch, Devon booted up his computer while Jamie settled onto the couch with the remote and Killer. Lucky dog.

After watching the blinking cursor longer than he’d care to contemplate, he looked over at Jamie.

Killer had moved. In fact, he’d left the room.

Jamie lay on the sofa, her bare feet crossed at the ankles, eyes closed, the manuscript she’d insisted on reading resting on her stomach.

The temptation was too much to resist.

Saving his work, he closed the laptop and walked to join Jamie.

A small smile curved her lips when he sat down next to her, the cushion dipping with his weight, but she didn’t open her eyes.

“Are you asleep?” he whispered.

“No,” she whispered back. “Just resting my eyes. Are you quitting already?”

“Taking a break. You can keep your eyes closed. I just want to check out a few things.”

She cracked open one eyelid. “Like what?”

His hands reveled in the tactile pleasure of her satin-smooth skin as he slid them up her arms to the back of her neck. “Like,” he said, unfastening the button behind her neck, “whether or not I can flip the top of your dress down independently or if both sides would come down together.”

“And this is important how?”

“Shhh. Relax. It’s research. Just research.”

With slow, deliberate movements, he dragged one side of the plunging neckline down until he’d exposed her right breast, its nipple immediately puckering in the air-conditioned air. Bending, he ran the tip of his tongue around and over the hardened tip, finally taking it between his teeth, running his tongue back and forth.

Her breathing became shallow, and she arched her back slightly, but kept her eyes shut.

He drew the other side of the dress down to her waist and admired the size and shape of the newly exposed breast before taking it into his mouth.

She whimpered a little but kept her eyes closed.

He pulled her dress back up, covering temptation, and secured it once again. “Can I ask you a question?”

She blinked lazily at him. “Hmmm?”

“I was wondering…why did you wear those things? Your breasts are perfect, just as they are.”

Shifting on the sofa, she partially sat up before she answered.

“I was trying to disguise myself.”

“By having big boobs? No offense, but that’s not much, as disguises go.”

“I told you I also changed my hair, my eye color and the way I dress and act. In the process, I was trying to reinvent myself, I guess.”

“I’ve been thinking about that…. So you’re not a real blonde?” Not that it mattered, but he couldn’t imagine her with any other color of hair. And, since she practiced total body-hair removal, there was nothing to compare it to.

“Sorry, no.” She struggled to sit up.

He stopped her with his hand on her shoulder. “How could I have missed that? Wait. I need to take a closer look.”

Scooting to the end by her feet, he lifted her skirt and peeked under at tanned legs and panties the same shade of yellow as her dress.

“I don’t think we should have sex right here in the open, on the couch, during the day,” she warned, squirming against the cushions.

“Who said anything about having sex?” he said from beneath her dress. “I’m conducting research, woman. Now hold still. I’m going to have to remove these in order to see more clearly.”

“Couldn’t you just push the leg opening aside and check out what you need?”

In response, he nipped her mound through the sheer fabric of her panties. “Hush,” he said, his breath hot against her. “I have to be thorough.”

She shivered as he drew her panties down her legs, an inch at a time, and watched them float across the room where he tossed them.

Her back arched off the cushions when his finger probed her, teasing her with what she knew would come.

His tongue replaced his finger, and she bowed off the couch, her hands clutching his hair, holding him firmly in place.

Delicious sensation danced along her nerve endings, setting wildfires to ignite along the way.

Just as she hovered, poised on the brink of fulfillment, Devon sat up, smoothing her dress down.

Their eyes met. She was sure hers were shooting flames.

“I promised we would not have sex, and I’m a man of my word.” He made an adjustment and grinned. “Besides, I know once would never be enough. For either of us. And then we’d end up missing dinner.”

Suddenly she wasn’t hungry—not for food, anyway. But she didn’t tell him. The no-sex thing had been her idea. Now she would just have to live with the consequences.

After she’d retrieved her underwear and Devon resumed his work, she picked up the manuscript and continued reading.

A few minutes later, she glanced at him. How could she diplomatically tell him his writing…stunk? Not an easy thing to do, under any circumstances. When you were sleeping together, it was even harder.

“Well, how do you like it so far?” Devon stood beside the couch.

With careful movements, she tidied the stack of paper and set it on the coffee table, wracking her brain for something constructive, if not kind, to say.

She licked her lips and took a deep breath. “Well, truthfully I was having a hard time concentrating. I can’t think very well when I’m hungry. Is it almost time to eat?”