Miah (Lane Brothers #2) (90 page)

The doorbell rings with an incessant peal that makes me want to rip my hair out and feed it to the evil person who can’t wait five seconds for me to shuffle to the door.

I’m baby free for the next few days thanks to a cold I’d woken up with this morning. I’d called mama and she’d almost exploded with glee when I’d told her I needed some free babysitting while I fought the human plague that is a cold.

I would have called Devon since the guy will walk over hot coals for any free time he gets with Immie, but he’s still out of town on some deal and the lads, while they adore Im, are not capable of changing a diaper without puking themselves to death.

The doorbell chimes again and I stomp to the door with a huff before ripping it open.

“Hold the hell on! Can’t you-”

“You called your mum to look after Immie but not me?” Devon yells, clomping in and shoving the door shut.

“You were outta town.”

“I would have come back immediately imp. I told you to call me.”

“Okay, sorry.” I mutter, shuffling into the kitchen with a groan as my aching joints protest the motion. “I’ll call mama and tell her you’ll come by to get Im.”

“No. Sit down here so I can make you some tea. No, no arguments imp.” He mutters, pushing me into a seat and going to fill the kettle.

It takes five minutes and then I’m cradling a cup of warm, soothing tea and being harassed by Satan.

“Why didn’t you call?”

“God! I said I was sorry. Go fetch Im if you’re so upset about this, just please stop yelling, my head is splitting.”

“Goddammit Rebecca! I’m not upset about your parents getting her for a few days, I’m pissed that you’re ill and you didn’t ring me. You shouldn’t be alone when you’re feeling this poorly.” He snarls, ripping impatiently at his tie.

“Oh, er…I’m not that sick.”

“Really? Did you or did you not ring your mum and refer to it as ‘the goddamned plague’?”

“Artistic license.” I mutter sheepishly, dropping my throbbing skull onto my arms where they’re lying on the table. “I felt much worse this morning.’

“Well you bloody well look it. Now drink your tea so I can bath you and put you to bed.” He orders, giving me another glare for good measure.

I shut my mouth and obey because it’s impossible not to when Attila the Hun is staring into your eyes and throwing his weight around.

***

“Stop it.” I yell twenty minutes later, slapping at his hands when they go for my naked boobs with a wash cloth.

“Calm down, I’m just trying to get you clean and out as quickly as possible so you can go to sleep.” He insists, prying my arms away to skim the cloth over my flesh in a wholly clinical way that bruises my ego.

I’d refused, cajoled and then outright begged him to let me bath alone but he’d given me his patented blank stare and then overruled me anyway.

I’m mortified to be naked and wet-not the good kind!-in front of him when he sits me down in the bath and my belly rolls, creating a little roll that’s been driving me nuts.

Breastfeeding seems to be helping me shed the unwanted pounds but it’s not a substitute for working out and I really-

“Stop bloody trying to cover your tummy you barmy monkey. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about here. I like your body.”

Really? Because last time I heard you thought I was a fat cow incapable of seducing a rock.

Oh stop it Beck. Just don’t go there.

I sit meekly and allow him to wash me even when he takes liberties and pushes the cloth lower, lingering between my legs before dropping the cloth and rinsing me. Thoroughly.

“You know that my vagina isn’t in need of care right now, right?” I mutter, tensing my inner walls when his hand skims my labia in a once over that has my blood heating in zero seconds flat.

“I beg to differ imp. Seems to me she’s not as against my ministrations as you are.”

Insufferable.

“You are beyond arrogant. And delusional.” I mutter, rolling my eyes in an effort to mask the dropping of my lids when his fingers glance over my clit.

“Keep telling yourself that and maybe one day one of us will actually believe it.”

“Argh. Can you please stop touching my junk.” I whine, closing my eyes against the dizziness I’m not altogether sure isn’t from his touch, not the marshmallowy wooziness of my stuffy plague head.

“Right. Out. You look like you’re ready to drop.”

He doesn’t give me a chance to move and bends, whisking me up and into his arms, ignoring my squeals and protests when water sloshes all over him, ruining his shirt and suit.

Ignoring me he whips a towel off the bar, dries me and then walks to the clean bed that he’s stripped and remade and puts me between the sheets.

“Take a nap while I go start dinner. The pharmacy should have delivered your medicine by then.”

I close my eyes with a smile and drift off to sleep a minute later, feeling bad but not altogether as terrible as I did an hour ago before he showed up and completely bulldozed his way in here.

The sad truth is that I’d needed some care and attention since I’ve been moping around in a funk since leaving him and the boys. When even Immie hadn’t been capable of keeping the gloom at bay I’d had to face facts; I miss the oaf like crazy and I want him so much I burn with longing.

Is it bad to be thinking about offering him another friendship type bargain if that’s what he wants? Probably, but I so would. I would, if the thought of being rejected again weren’t still so fresh in my mind.

Uhoh.

I wake a few hours later just as the sun is setting, feeling much better. The ache in my bones and the muzzy feeling are still there but my nose is no longer stuffy and I can turn my head without feeling like someone’s dropping anvils on the thing.

Sliding out from under the sheets I grab my robe and slip it on before leaving my room and tiptoeing down the hall into the kitchen. The smell of vegetable soup hits my nose and my stomach growls loudly, letting me know that skipping breakfast and lunch is not an option for someone who’s taken pride in feeding herself regularly.

“Ah, you’re up. I was about to bring you your dinner on a tray.” Devon says, looking up from the pot he’s stirring.

“Naw, I’m feeling much better. Just hungry. Did you cook?”

“Are you nuts? I actually want you to get better imp. No, I ordered this from Ramone’s and they delivered just after your medicine arrived. Here, take this while I dish up.”

I take the pills from him and swallow them down with water as he serves us both big bowls of steaming soup with crusty bread for dipping. I finish half before I’m full and watch in silence as he eats his fill before clearing the dishes and coming back with two glasses of water.

“You’re looking much better since your nap.” He says and I can’t escape the heat that flares when his eyes land on me and stay, drawing me in and pulling at something deep in my belly.

“I, uh, feel better. Just a little muzzy but it beats the jackhammer of earlier. You can, uh go home now, I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

“Nope.”

“But the boys…”

“Are just fine. Garret’s home for the break and he’s catching up with Davy since the lad refused to let him come down for his surgery. Now stop trying to get rid of me and relax. I won’t try to ravish you while you’re feeling ill.” He growls. “Unless you ask really nicely.”

I want to ask! Maybe order him to lean over the table and kiss me before shoving me onto the hard surface and stripping me bare. I want a lot of things that include tongue and lips and sucking and then maybe if I’m still able to function without half my brain he could drop his pants and-

I snort to cover the choked whimper the images evoke and focus instead on a point directly above his right shoulder.

“Imp.”

“Don’t start.” I warn when his tone goes soft and low, just like every other time he’s tried to talk to me about the night I’d left.

I shoot him down not because I’m still angry, because I’m not. Well not much. No, the reason I won’t talk about it is that I am still mortified by the whole event. I mean come on, I’d been eight months pregnant and sprouting troll’s ankles and trying to seduce a guy who’d told me flat out he didn’t want me.

“Don’t start what?”

“Don’t start trying to talk about things now. Please. That was all a big mistake and we both know it. Leave me some pride here and just forget it ever happened. Please.” I beg again, meeting his eyes. “You’re not stupid so I know that you figured it out, just…let it go.”

His chest rises sharply and falls with a sigh that sounds tired and defeated.

“I can’t. I made a massive mistake that night and I can’t continue without telling you how terribly sorry I am for it. I was angry and hurt and you kept pushing at me till I could hardly breathe. I knew it was a matter of time before my control slipped and I took you. A man can only sleep next to his woman for so long without doing what comes naturally and…I was too angry to admit to myself that I still wanted you.”

The words hover between us and I stay silent, letting the silence slip into an uncomfortable white noise that makes my ears pop.

“I knew the moment I walked in the door with that woman that I’d fucked up but by then it was too late to do anything. You came around the corner and I saw you in that dress and I just went mental.”

I snort again and twist my mouth sardonically.

“You were cool as a freaking cucumber the whole time that bimbo was crawling all over you, sucking at your jaw and neck.”

At my jealous tone his mouth twitches and I narrow my eyes dangerously.

“No imp. I was half crazed with the need to hurt you, to get you away from me and what I was feeling. I practically threw that woman off the minute the door closed and watched you leave from the window in our room. I got her a taxi right after and sent her home, cursing me to hell and back I might add.” He says derisively.

“I found your letter minutes later and-”

“Stop. No. Please tell me you didn’t.” I beg, feeling another wave of mortification hit me.

Of course I know that he must have found the thing, I’d just hoped he’d have gotten rid of it or left it unread. No such luck.

“I did. It almost killed me but I read it, every word and I realized I’d broken something I should have taken a lot more care of. I went to see you the next day.”

“And the next and the next. And then you stopped coming or calling.”

“Because I couldn’t watch you damn near break your neck sneaking out of the house every time I showed up.” He snorts, making me snicker to think of the acrobatics I’d performed.

It’s on the tip of my tongue to laugh it all off and tell him no hard feelings when I see his eyes wing down to my chest and-please no. Oh Lord, please no, I think, even as I feel the hot, moist slide covering my chest.

Just when I think I can’t get more embarrassed than having to admit to being a needy doofus who can’t take a hint my boobs have to go and explode all over the place.

And it’s not pretty since Immie hasn’t fed from me all day and I’d only pumped a little this morning before passing out.

“Oh God, excuse me.” I mutter in a choked whisper, jumping to my feet and bolting for the nursery and the breast pump I should have used to suck them dry.

I’m in the process of attaching the doodad to the doohickey tube thingy when I’m spun around and hoisted up and into Devon’s chest, his grey eyes a molten silver that’s swirling with lust.

“Allow me.”

My back is pressed to my mattress in the blink of an eye and I realize he’s made it to my bedroom and somehow stripped me without me even noticing.

And then I’m writhing and moaning as his lips attach over my nipple and he starts sucking in a strong motion that wings its way to my sex and starts a deep beat that echoes in my womb.

“Christ, I’ve been dying to do this since you nursed at the hospital.” He groans, going back to his suckling as I whimper and dig my nails into his scalp to pull him closer.

When he deems that breast done he switches to the other and sucks at me so hard I tense up and moan when a small climax rips through me, stringing me so tight I feel my thighs shake in protest.

My sex is pulsing and empty and so wet I feel the evidence of my need gloss over my inner thighs. I would be embarrassed but this is obviously just what Devon’s been waiting for because he rears up suddenly and starts attacking his clothes, chucking them off with a growl before falling back to me and taking my open mouth in a tangle of tongues, wet lips and clashing teeth.

“Tell me stop.” He grunts, pulling away to look down between my spread legs. “Tell me and I’ll-”

“No. Please.”

I’m beyond thought or care right now as I feel his crown slide through my cleft, bouncing off my clit, once, twice before notching at my entrance, sending tingles from my core to the tips of my toes.

I wiggle closer and try to suck him in, needing him to fill me and take away all the empty spaces he’s left behind.

I feel him tense and groan before he hooks his hands beneath my thighs and thrust home with a roar that mirrors my yell of relief.

The rhythm is hard and raw as he pushes in and pulls out, retreating and driving back with a force that rocks the bed and has our skin slapping and sliding.

It’s wild and uncontrolled and sloppy and I love it because it means we’re too wild to care about technique. I feel him nearing his peak and scream when he angles his hips and hits me so deep it hurts in the best way. His hand lets go of one of my thighs and snakes down, his fingers finding me and stroking in the same desperate rhythm as his hammering hips.

I climax and scream into his open mouth, my core tensing and clenching hard, the tremors in my womb making my toes curl as the pleasure takes me over and sends me screaming into space.

The contractions are so strong I feel him stutter and tense, his movement jerky and uncoordinated as he stills above me, thrusts as deep as he can go and comes in a series of teeth clenching spurts that I fell deep inside.

“Devon-”

“Please don’t regret this.” Hebegs, cutting me off with a shake of his head and a look that steals my breath.

We’re both wheezing for breath as he pulls out but stays hovering above me, his eyes locked on mine, his expression open and vulnerable.

“Please say you want me as much as I want you. Please.”

I feel tears gather along my lashes at the heart stopping vulnerability reflected there and I smile through a stuttering breath, feeling hopeful and resigned.

Who am I kidding? I can’t stop loving this man, no matter how much I wanted to or how much he tried to get me to. He’s my one. My only and I’ll walk over hot coals to get to him.

I’ll even let go of my pride and humiliation to remove that pleading, desperate look from his face.

“How can I regret that Dev? I love you too much to ever regret giving you what is and always has been yours.” I whisper, bringing up a hand to stroke his face lovingly. “I’m so sorry I hurt you. I promise I will never doubt you again.”

I may have my moments of insecurity and doubt but I will always remember his worth and push away the remaining insecurity I’ve had since my fat, teenage self learned that people are cruel and mean.

“I love you so much my imp. So so much. And now I will do what I should have done the minute I found you in that chapel in Vegas and thought my world had ended.”

I giggle when he breathes into my mouth and captures my gaze with his.

“Rebecca, my imp, my only love. Will you please marry me and give me the paperwork I need to keep you from running off again?”

I snicker at his words and shake my head once, feeling airy and light and so happy I could burst with it.

“No?”

“Nope. I liked it better when I asked you so here goes. Devon, baby, love of my life, will you please marry me so I can love you for the rest of my life?”

He grins at me and kisses me softly before pulling away and breathing deeply.

“Yes.”