Shadow of a Doubt (Tangled Ivy Book 2) (8 page)

His heart beat strong in his chest, the dull thud reverberating into me. I tilted my head back to look at him. When our eyes met, I smiled. I couldn’t help it. I was glad to see him in spite of our argument.

“Impossible, silly girl,” he murmured, but his eyes were kind and his smile soft.

“Come back to bed,” I implored. “I’ve missed you. I need you.”

“Is that what you want?” he asked. “Even after Clive?”

“I don’t give a damn about Clive,” I said. “And I’m not about to let him ruin our time together. Now come. Make love to me. Don’t make me ask again.”

I took his hand and pulled him toward the bed, backing up as he followed me. He still seemed somewhat reluctant, but I saw his eyes tracing a path down my body and knew I’d won this round.

The backs of my knees hit the bed and I sat down, scooting backward as Devon climbed onto the mattress after me. His lips caught mine and I pulled him with me as I lay back against the soft pillows.

I wasn’t wearing any panties, and eagerly spread my legs when his hand slipped down my stomach. If I wasn’t beyond the point of embarrassment, I would have blushed at how wet I was. Instead, I just wanted him inside me. I gasped when his finger slid inside me, teasing my clit with gentle strokes as he pumped.

The restraint he’d shown earlier was gone as he kissed me with fierce abandon. I tore my mouth from his, sucking in air as his lips moved to my neck. Devon knew my body better than I did, bringing me to the edge and keeping me there. Keening sounds fell from my throat and I lifted my hips, seeking more friction, but he denied me.

“You were with the agent for two days,” he whispered in my ear. “Did he touch you?” Two fingers filled me and I moaned, but it still wasn’t enough.

“Tell me,” he said.

“N-no,” I gasped.

“Good,” he said. “Then I won’t have to kill him.”

I clutched at his shoulders, the muscles hard underneath my fingers. “Yes, I’d rather you not kill him,” I managed to say, trying to sound coherent even as his hand moved between my legs. “I like him.”

He growled a curse against my neck. “If you’re jealous, then you should have come back sooner,” I said. “Now stop talking already and kiss me.”

That achieved the desired result. In moments, he had shed his pants and was back. My eyes were glued to his cock, standing rigidly at attention. My mouth went dry at the sight. Devon was a large man, and his cock was proportionate. I thought he was
probably larger than most men, not that I had a lot to compare it to. I’d only been with two men, if you didn’t count Jace, and I never counted Jace.

Devon bent my knees, pushing them apart. He guided his cock and I felt the head at my entrance. I reached for him, but he remained sitting back on his haunches. Settling his hands on my hips, he pulled me toward him, burying his length inside me.

I made some kind of noise, though I know it wasn’t actual words because I wasn’t lucid enough for that. He stretched me, filled me, much better than his fingers had.

Prying open my eyes, I saw he was gazing down at where our bodies were joined, his expression rapt as he slid out of me and back in, a slow glide that made me feel every inch of him.

“Touch yourself,” he ordered.

I hesitated, but desire and passion overcame my embarrassment at doing what he said and I reached down. My fingers slid between my folds and I found my clit, slick and plump. Stroking the bit of flesh, my eyes fluttered shut again as my thighs trembled.

“That’s right, darling,” he encouraged.

Devon’s hands gripped my hips and he moved faster, his cock pumping hard into me. My hand moved faster, too, and I was splintering apart, crying out his name. Devon’s body jerked into mine, his breathing hitched in gasps as he buried himself in me. I could feel the pulsing of his cock as he came and it prolonged my own orgasm.

Afterward, I was spent. My body felt boneless, but Devon wasn’t through with me. After pulling out, he moved back on the bed and lowered his head between my legs. I jerked at the soft touch of his tongue, my body too sensitive, but he held my hips still.

“I can’t,” I said, still breathless.

“Yes, you can,” he murmured. He licked me again, parting my folds with long sweeps of his tongue. My eyes slid shut.

Devon was very good at this, and soon my legs were trembling
and I was clutching his head to me, moaning nonstop. I lifted my hips to his mouth as my body convulsed in an orgasm so powerful, tears came to my eyes.

If I’d been tired before, now I couldn’t even summon the energy to move. Devon crawled up my body and kissed me. I could taste myself on his lips, and his tongue languidly stroked mine for a moment before he lay down beside me.

“You’re beautiful. Sensual. I love watching you,” he said, his lips brushing my ear. His voice was like smoke, drifting through the air and clinging to me.

His words made me blush. Devon had made sex an amazing experience for me. He’d turned it from something dirty and painful into something beautiful and filled with pleasure. I liked hearing him describe my body through his eyes, especially when being on the too-skinny side of thin made me all bones and pointy angles. I liked how I looked wearing the clothes I loved so dearly. With them off, not so much.

I tipped my head to look at him. His eyes were clear blue, intense as he studied me. The hard lines of his face were softened slightly with lovemaking.

“You’re beautiful, too,” I said softly.

His smile was faint, but there nonetheless. “No longer angry with me?” he asked.

I shrugged. Multiple orgasms had a way of softening my temper. “You’re here now. Why waste time being mad? It is what it is. I can’t change it.”

He brushed my hair back, tucking it behind my ear. “And what would you change if you could?”

I sighed, turning to rest my head on him. I could feel the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. I closed my eyes as I answered.

“There’s no future for us,” I said. “No matter how much I wish otherwise. Your job doesn’t allow it, and you won’t leave your job,
even if you wanted a future with me, which I’m not sure you do. So . . . that’s that.”

Devon stroked my hair, his hand moving in gentle passes down the long locks splayed across my back.

“My job is the most important thing to me, yes,” he said.

That hurt, no matter how much I’d already known it.

“But I wouldn’t be here if you weren’t important, too.”

It was nice to hear that, the hurt easing inside. “I’m glad,” I said, my voice quiet in the room.

We lay like that, him stroking my hair and me listening to his heart beating, for a long while.

“I should have foreseen this,” he said at last, his voice a low murmur.

“Foreseen what?” I asked.

“Clive, coming after you. Perhaps I was too hopeful that he would go his own way. And now he’s hurt you. Frightened you.” His hand drifted down to touch the bandage on my arm ever so gently.

“He knows I’m carrying the vaccine,” I said, then decided to come clean. “And now the FBI knows, too.”

Devon’s hand stilled. “You told the agent?”

“About the virus, yes. He overheard Clive talking about the vaccine.”

“You said you hadn’t told him anything,” Devon reminded me.

I twisted to look up at him. “I lied. I’m sorry. I was afraid of what you’d do to him. Or me.”

He frowned. “After all this, you still think I would hurt you?”

“I know where your loyalties lie.” I wasn’t trying to throw his words back in his face, but there it was.

His hand cupped my cheek. “My loyalties may lie with the Shadow, but you . . . you are dear to me.”

My throat closed up at the unexpected confession. It wasn’t love, but it was better than what I’d thought he felt. His eyes perhaps saw too deeply into me, but I couldn’t look away.

“Which is why Clive will pay for hurting you,” he added. “I’ll see to that.”

The thought of Devon and Clive going head-to-head again scared me. Clive had intimated months ago that he was afraid of Devon, but now it seemed he didn’t care. Probably because he had nothing more to lose, I guessed.

“I know what we need to take your mind off things,” he said, his lips curving into a tender smile.

“What’s that?”

“Shopping, of course.”

I hid a grin. “You think I can be placated with pretty clothes?” Then I quickly added, “And shoes?” Best not to forget the shoes.

“I know you can.”

This time I laughed outright. When my chuckles had faded, Devon asked, “How’s the arm? Are you in pain?”

I shook my head. I had a very high pain tolerance—courtesy of Jace—and while it was uncomfortable, it was bearable. “I’m fine.”

“You should take a pain pill,” he persisted, but I shook my head again.

“I don’t want to. They knock me out.”

“Yes, that is rather the point,” he said dryly.

“I don’t like that feeling,” I said. “I’d rather put up with a little pain than feel like I can’t stay awake.” I hated that feeling of being out of control.

Devon’s gaze was shrewd. “Yes, I believe I know exactly how you feel.” Reaching over to the lamp, he switched it off, then lay back down with me. “Go to sleep, darling.”

So I did.

“That’s an absolute yes.”

I glanced uncertainly over my shoulder at Devon, who sat in an armchair outside the dressing room. “It costs way too much,” I said, shaking my head.

“Of course it does, but you look stunning and I don’t care.”

I turned back to the three mirrors facing me to take another look at what was capping off an entire day of shopping.

The gown was by Elie Saab, black, floor-length, and made almost entirely of lace. The neckline plunged in a deep V and the sleeves were short. Swaths of silk served to cover areas of the body for modesty’s sake, while the handmade lace billowed from the waist to my ankles. The way the dress was cut, it helped disguise my sad lack of cleavage. Black Christian Louboutin patent leather heels graced my feet, complete with bloodred soles. It was divine.

“If I could dress like this every day, I’d be a much more pleasant person,” I mused to myself.

Devon’s laugh startled me and I reflexively smiled at his amusement. “Darling, somehow I doubt you’re a hardship to those around you,” he teased.

He had been in a good mood all day, taking me tirelessly from store to store and insisting on buying me everything from lingerie, to shoes, to summer clothes, to designer jeans. Since what had been salvageable from his apartment hadn’t been very much, the additions to my wardrobe were wholly appreciated. As for this dress, though, I had no idea when I’d ever have an occasion to wear it.

But it was still very, very pretty.

I was busy admiring the dress when he stood and came up behind me, resting his hands lightly on my waist.

“And there’s no sense in owning a lovely dress if you have no occasion on which to wear it,” he said. “Would you care to accompany me to a ball tonight?”

My eyebrows flew up. “A ball?”

“The symphony is holding their annual gala tonight,” he explained, bending down to nuzzle my neck. His voice lowered, sending a shiver through me. “I’d like to take my lovely lady to an elegant dinner, then see how she sparkles under the chandeliers at Powell Hall.” He pressed a light kiss underneath my jaw, the warmth of his breath tantalizing in my ear. “I want to memorize how beautiful you are while the melodies of masters wash over us, and spin a fantasy of forever in my mind.”

Wow. It took me a second to overcome my surprise at this romantic side of him. “How could I possibly say no to that?” I asked with a smile.

“I might have overshot it a bit, just in case you were considering refusing,” he said, making me smile wider. I loved this teasing side of him, so much lighter and carefree than when he was dogged by work.

But the dress and shoes weren’t the only extravagances he bought for me. Tugging me into a jewelry shop, he insisted on buying a diamond and onyx necklace to go with the dress. A heavy, round pendant hung between my breasts on a long, white gold chain and the matching earrings adorned my lobes.

“Are you spoiling me out of guilt?” I asked him hours later as I sipped the red wine he’d ordered and we waited for our entrees. The restaurant was romantic, with dim lighting and the tables spaced far enough apart to convey some privacy. I knew it was the most exclusive and well-known restaurant in town, but had never been there.

Devon looked utterly at ease in this environment, his gaze not often straying from me. I hoped I’d done the dress justice by wearing dramatic smoky eye makeup with a touch of glitter, and pulling
my hair back into a loose French braid. Tendrils escaped to frame my face and touch my neck.

“I’m spoiling you because I want to,” he said simply. “It pleases me. If I felt guilty for something, I’d tell you so. And I wouldn’t try something as pathetic as buying you gifts to attain your forgiveness.”

Well, okay then.

He didn’t seem offended that I’d asked, just matter-of-fact. And who was I to argue if he wanted to buy me the clothes that were my own personal version of crack?

Dinner was one of the best meals I’d ever had, barring Christmas dinner in Paris—which I
didn’t
tell him—and by the time we entered Powell Hall, I felt like I was floating on air.