Spin Devil (6 page)

“I can’t stand this, Bas,” she breathed, lifting her head to
look at him.

But he was buried between her legs and all she could see was
the silky black mane of hair at the top of his head as he cocked it sideways to
continue his conquest. Before Cleo fell back against the sand, she caught a
quick glance of her friends watching in a stupor as Sebastian made wild, sweet,
bad love to her.

She wasn’t ashamed now…now the only thing that mattered was
Sebastian.

She could have sworn she was a breath away from reaching
that point, that point where all was lost to her for an infinitesimal second,
where nothing mattered except a fierce, overwhelming need to just let go.

She gasped as she neared it, rocked her hips against his
touch, and as if he sensed her orgasm was close he stopped weaving his magic,
his overpowering black magic, and rose. In a second he settled his big body on
top of hers, bracing his upper body on his hands as he gazed down at her.

Her legs were still bent, her breasts crushed beneath her
thighs, her knees tight to her shoulders. Sebastian’s weight pinned her down,
keeping her sex completely open and exposed to him.

Cleo writhed beneath him, seeking him, inviting him, for she
knew that no one could fill this emptiness, this aching desire, except him. He
moved his hips and paused, poised at her entrance where she could feel the tip
of his cock lightly brush against her swollen pussy.

“Say it, Cleo,” he said in a strained voice. The light in
his eyes was dark and fierce and breathtaking. Their gazes locked for what
seemed like an eternity.

“Fuck me, Sebastian,” she finally breathed.

When he buried his cock inside her he cried out, the sound
resembling that of a pained, dying animal. Cleo gasped, mesmerized by the feel
of him so deeply embedded inside her, filling her, completing her. She clutched
at his shoulders then spread her hands over the muscles of his back, pulling him
closer.

“More,
more
!” she cried.

“You sexy little slut,” he breathed, humping her with
superhuman strength. “This is what you wanted wasn’t it, you horny little
bitch?”

“Yes, yes!” She rolled her head from side to side, desperate
and straining for release. Whimpering, she slid her hands past his waist and
clutched the hard, straining muscles of his buttocks, lifting her hips and
urging him as deep inside her as he could manage.

“Look at me, Cleo.”

She turned her face, her eyelids feeling heavy and hot as she
gazed up at him. Sweat beaded his brow and his nostrils flared as he struggled
for breath and stared down fiercely into her eyes. His jaw was tight with
effort as he rammed inside her, veins straining against his neck.

“I want to watch when you come,” he said heavily, his voice
hot and broken with desire. All the while he kept thrusting and thrusting and
thrusting inside her. “I want to see your pretty face when you come for me.”

Her eyes widened as she reached the tip, the point, that
painful second before release. “Now, Sebastian,
now
!” she cried.

With one last thrust he drove his cock straight home. Cleo
clutched him tightly while he shuddered, his face contorted in ecstasy, and be
it heaven or hell, she would follow him. Closing her eyes, she rubbed her sex
against his hardness ever so slightly, and with that fleeting touch, exploded
into a million pieces.

Fucking awesome.

No other words could describe her.

And now Sebastian didn’t give a damn if he was being a real
pussy for wanting to hold her. But he did, he wanted—
needed
—to hold her
as much as he’d needed to fuck her. He gathered her into his arms and pressed
her face into the crook of his neck. It was odd, the way the burning, fiery
desire he’d harbored for years now felt like something else. Something fuzzy,
warm. A feeling as alien to him as cuddling a woman after he’d screwed her. A
feeling he’d thought was solely exclusive to wimps, gays and girls. That
life-is-beautiful sort of crap. It was inside him now, and damn it, it felt
good.

And Cleo, in his arms, felt even better.

His thoughts darkened when he remembered she would be going
back to take care of those freaking old geezers tomorrow. She would fly back to
Seattle, leaving him behind. But he couldn’t let that affect him because
tonight…tonight she was his. And for the life of him, he would be content with
that.

For now.

It had been…

No. Cleo dared not even think it.

She should not think these things, for her brain was still
clouded and hazy, not working properly—short-circuited. But try as she might,
she couldn’t stop the sting in her eyes and the feeling of having experienced
something painfully beautiful. She sniffled softly when the tears came and
prayed a silent prayer that he wouldn’t notice. His hold tightened around her
and he bent his head, pressing his brow to hers.

“What is this?” He took her chin between his thumb and
forefinger and tilted her face upward. Cleo shyly met his gaze, acutely aware
of her stinging red eyes and silently cursing herself for being so weak in
front of him, so weak in front of a man who could break her as easily as a twig
under his feet. “Why are you crying, Cleo?”

She bit her lip because frankly, she didn’t know.

“Bas, are you making her cry
again
?” Luella asked,
clearly concerned.

“Mind your own business,” Sebastian snapped, glaring at her
over his shoulder before he turned back to Cleo and tenderly rubbed his thumbs
along her cheeks. “Don’t cry, Cleo.”

His concern tightened around her heart like a fist.

Staring into his eyes, the color of polished onyx, blazing
with need and longing as he looked back at her, Cleo finally realized why she
was so afraid of him—and why she wanted to cry. It wasn’t him actually, but
what she felt because of him. Hate. Pain. Want.

And so much love.

It was impossible to explain these strong, conflicting
emotions with the same simplicity as she could explain something like a
rainbow. Cleo couldn’t understand them like she could understand the rightness
of one plus one being two. She couldn’t predict the outcome of an experience such
as this like she could predict the outcome of a division or multiplication.

These feelings rioted, blended, mixed…and she could no more
explain them than she could explain her own existence and meaning in this
world. It scared her, the sheer intensity and power of her emotions, for she
knew they had the power to lift her to the skies. Or destroy her completely.

“You regret this, don’t you?” Sebastian asked gruffly.

“No, Sebastian, I don’t.”

He pressed his lips to hers softly, tenderly. “If I hurt
you, I’m sorry.”

“You didn’t hurt me,” she said, reaching to cup his hard,
square jaw with her palms. She knew it the second she stared into his eyes, for
she saw her heart right in them—she still loved him. Achingly. Deeply. And all
these years, she always had. Yes, it hurt. He angered her, hurt her…and she
still loved him.

“I’m sorry baby, for everything,” he breathed as he pulled
her to him and crushed his lips to hers.

She melted under his lips, under the pressure of his mouth
urging hers to open for him. Her hands settled on the back of his neck while
she met the thrusts of his tongue equally with those of her own.

She trembled in his arms before he pulled back, for the
first time noting they were still naked. “Stay here,” he whispered.

Rising, he left her for a minute and came back wearing his
jeans and white cotton shirt, his jacket in his hand. He handed it to her.
“Here, put this on,” he said softly.

Cleo did so, slipping her arms into the long sleeves then
pulling it closed tightly across her chest. The jacket smelled like
him—leather, beer, man and cigarettes. She made it a priority to memorize his
scent, drew in a deep breath and felt drugged, intoxicated by it.

Sebastian sat down beside her, wrapped an arm around her
shoulders and pulled her to his side. He eyed her profile in silence. “We’re
going to have to talk about this, Cleo.”

“Yes,” Cleo agreed, nodding slowly.

He stared blindly out at the ocean for a moment and then
back at her. “I just don’t know what to say,” he confessed.

She met his gaze and thought how beautiful his eyes were.
How deep and dark. There was no trace of the strong, unyielding man she knew.
His features were still strong, still masculine and powerful, but much less
menacing to her now. “Let’s not say anything then.”

Tightening his hold around her shoulders he smiled, a slow
cocky grin, so rare on his face yet so familiar to her—for she knew it by
memory. “We’ll figure it out.”

“Hey, are we spinning the devil again?” Luella asked.

“Hell no, this is much better,” Jason said. He was sprawled
naked between Haley and Luella’s nude, sweaty bodies. David sat beside them,
half-dressed and pensive.

“Your June wedding is definitely off, David, I’m sorry to
have to say,” Luella said matter-of-factly. “Your bride will be really pissed
when she finds out you fucked us.”

“Just shut the hell up,” he grumbled.

Haley laughed. “How convenient to consider the decency of
your actions only
after
you came in my mouth, David.”

“I didn’t mean for it to happen.” David glowered at the red
plush toy, almost buried in the sand now. “Fucking spin devil.”

Cleo turned to look at it, only its tail and chubby legs
sticking out of the sand.

Yes, that mischievous spin devil. It had possessed them all.
And yet the game and its red-tailed mascot had given Cleo something beautiful,
something she could only be grateful for. Maybe the spin devil game had, in a
way, helped her to admit all these feelings, wild and beautiful and scary, that
Sebastian Russo stirred inside her—now and maybe always.

“I want you again,” Sebastian whispered, his breath
scorching her ear. “
God
, I want you so much.”

Cleo closed her eyes at his words and felt yards of slow,
dizzying swirls of desire travel along her body, spreading to touch every
corner of her being as he slowly, hotly kissed her earlobe.

“I want you too,” she whispered to the air, to the wind, the
sky, the ocean—and him.

“Let’s go inside.”

As Sebastian lifted a shrieking, smiling Cleo into his arms
and carried her toward the two-story house, the four remaining friends looked
at each other in amusement.

“Think it’s the love bug?” Haley asked, her eyes lively and
glimmering.

“Yep,” Jason said, nodding in approval.

David shook his head vehemently, scowling at the toy on the
sand, already forgotten by everyone except him. “It’s that damned spin devil.”

Several slaps and smacks landed playfully on the back of
David’s head.

“Shut up, you old grump.”

“Get over it, babe. Wedding’s off.”

“Is that what you’re going to tell the blushing bride? ‘The
spin devil made me do it’?”

David watched the couple as they disappeared inside the
house. If Sebastian and Cleo could make things work after years and years of
heartache, then David could sure as hell make things right with his bride.

He smiled and nodded at his friends. “Hell yeah. It was the
spin devil.”

The End

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