Dangerous (15 page)

Devon reached back and lifted her hair off the back of her damp neck, not even realizing she was doing it because she was so absorbed in her fascination with him. She had no idea what she looked like to the man watching her from the lawn.

A goddess would have been a good starting descriptive, Liam thought tensely as his fingertips tightened at his waist. She stood in the light of sunset, holding her hair in both hands until her short top rose up to the high arc of her ribs. Her entire belly was exposed between shirt hem and skirt waist. Sunlight pierced her skirt, showing off the full shape of her legs in sultry shadow. In his mind he could so easily fit the pieces of the puzzle together and envision her naked form. God, why was it that she was wearing the most conservative outfit he had seen on her to date, yet he found it just as provocative as those awesomely revealing dresses? The worst part about it was he didn't think she gave a single damn as to what she looked like or the effect she had on men around her.

Liam realized Colin had stopped talking and he sheepishly started to apologize for being distracted . . . until he realized his brother was staring at the same thing he was and panting almost as hard as a result.

“Hey!” he barked, backhanding his sibling in the chest to get his attention.

“Oof ! Hey, what was that for?” Colin complained, rubbing his breastbone.

“Keep your eyes in your head, Col,” Liam growled at his brother.

Colin snorted out a laugh, “Oh, like you were just doing?”

“This isn't a democracy, bro,” Liam reminded him. “It's do as I say and not as I do, get it?”

“Yes, sir,” Colin said obediently, making a stellar effort not to grin at his older brother. “No staring at babes on the job. Got it.”

“You better,” Liam grumbled, his eyes drifting back to the window despite efforts otherwise. To his combined relief and disappointment, the drapes had been drawn and the babe in question had disappeared. He sighed and turned his attention back to the schematic. “Okay. Tell me again where the electric is vulnerable.”

And hurry
, he thought.
I have a date
.

As Liam came down the hall to the security room, he heard a laugh that sought out every small hair on his body, causing them all to rustle swiftly to attention. Like everything about her voice, it was low, melodic, and alluring as hell. He had no doubt that it was Devon. There was no mistaking that voice. Not for him.

He'd dreamed of it for three days. Speaking words of comfort, soothing him as he fought through the venom, and even singing softly to him to pass time and distract. He hadn't needed Carter Spencer to tell him she had spent nearly every minute of the past three days tending to him. He'd known it all along. He had the healed body and soothed spirit to prove it.

Liam couldn't help his curiosity as he came around the frame of the door, wondering what it was that had her pealing out laughter so robust he felt it vibrating sensually throughout his entire body. His appearance caught Devon by surprise, her laughter skidding to an abrupt halt the moment she saw him in the doorway. It was a reaction he wasn't too certain he cared for.

She was braced back against the console, night-vision camera angles panning on bisected screen monitors behind her, and Malcolm Coffey in one of the two station chairs. The second chair was empty, since Liam was behind on his scheduling, and Devon was idly rolling it back and forth with a single foot on the seat. The motion drew his total attention to her leg and the realization that she had changed her clothing. She was now wearing gym shorts and a mini tank top that once again drew attention to her flat midriff and the perfect silk skin spread over trim muscle.

“Hey, Nash.” Malcolm greeted him quickly and uneasily. He'd been caught doing too many things wrong not to expect a reprimand, and Liam didn't disappoint him.

“Coffey, I suppose you're looking for a transfer back to compound? We have plenty of paperwork to be done and lots of secretaries to flirt with, if that's what you'd like to do,” Liam said coldly.

“No, sir,” Malcolm said, automatically rising to his feet as tension whipped through his frame. “I'm sorry. It won't happen again, sir.”

Liam glanced at Devon, who was standing up straight now as she bit on her lower lip. He suspected she was biting that lip to keep from intervening, and Liam's respect for her ratcheted up on several accounts. One, that she would be compelled to protect Malcolm, and two, that she would refrain from interfering in his disciplinary methods. The fact that she was used to wielding power in her own home but knew when to take a backseat impressed him most of all.

“Good, because as pretty and charming as she is, she wouldn't be either for very long if you allow a killer to get by you because you're not watching the monitors.” Liam held out his hand to her, his expression stern as he beckoned her forward with a flick of his fingers. She was extremely contrite as she slid her hand into his and let him lead her out of the room. Properly chastised and flushing a deep red, Malcolm resumed his seat with a far more attentive manner.

Devon began to speak the moment they were in the hall, but he stopped her with a finger against his lips and a warning look. She silently acquiesced and he led her into another room, which happened to be a small prep room off the kitchen that the cook and the caterers would use should she ever throw a party on the premises. Liam shut the door behind them and she turned to him to make her apologies, but before a word could pass her lips, he had hauled her up against his big body. Her breath left her in a mighty rush, but she didn't think the actual force of her chest striking his had anything to do with it. His large hands were suddenly grasping at her back and he caught her mouth with a swift dip of his head and unerring aim.

Liam's kisses were unforgettable. She'd turned their torrid encounter in the limousine over in her memory endlessly. The kiss and his hot caresses in his bedroom those three days ago had also been in an incessant kind of replay. Yet, as wildly vivid as her recall was, it still paled in comparison to the reality. His mouth was a storm of fire and possession, fierce and hot as he skipped over any preliminary introductions and dove deep for her flavor and tongue. Devon moaned irrepressibly as he shocked her system with instant hunger and volatile response. He devoured her, feasting on her mouth as though he would starve otherwise. Her hands flew up to the back of his head, fingernails raking up through crisp, short hairs. She felt him shudder in response. He groaned with a deep reverberation that exploded into her mouth and rushed to be felt all along her body. Her nipples went taut against the material of her tank, the soft cotton suddenly rough and stimulating against them. A chain of heat slid down the center of her body, as though she had swallowed it and it had sunk straight and deep to the bottom like heavy metal through water.

Liam was convinced he'd lost his mind. Either that or he was having a hell of a dream. What else could explain the ferocity of desperation he'd felt to kiss her, instead of scolding her as he'd intended to? He was going to remind her not to interfere with his people, no matter what her outgoing nature encouraged her to do. Not while they were on duty. He was also going to tell her that it was inappropriate for her to be laughing and flirting with another man when she was also busy driving him up the damn wall. Instead, his mouth was fused to hers and he was claiming her.

If he didn't know better, he'd think he was jealous. He didn't get jealous. He thought it was a waste of time and energy and it was something insecure idiots indulged in. He especially wouldn't feel that way about a woman who . . . A veritable . . .

Oh, Christ.

He was jealous.

God, how quickly she'd insinuated herself into his life! What was even more frightening was that he wasn't certain it was all about her lush, sexy body. He was as much a male about those things as any other, but not like this. It'd been a long time since he'd wanted a woman so much. Had he ever wanted a woman like this? With such uncontrollable hunger? Maybe when he'd been a teenager, when he'd wanted
everything
with uncontrollable hunger, but not for a long time since then and not even half so much in all his adult life.

Liam tightened his fingers against the contours of her back, jerking her forward until she was tighter against him, her belly flush with his, her hips cuddled close. Never once did she resist or flinch or even seem to consider the ramifications of her responses. Not even when he flipped their positions against the door and trapped her between it and his body, pressing himself tightly to her and freeing up his hands. He was craving the feel of her. It was making him insane. His drew his fingers gently around her bare ribs beneath the soft shirt. His hands were shaking, he was pumped so full of adrenaline. He broke away from her mouth with a groan of painful need as he slid his hands up beneath the hem of the tank and slowly encompassed the sweet, weighty curves of her breasts.

“Jesus, you don't own a single bra, do you?” he demanded tightly of her as she easily filled his hands, pebbled nipples nuzzling the pads of his fingers invitingly.

“No,” she whispered hotly against his ear. She gasped in a shuddering breath as his fingers rolled over the tips of her sensitive breasts. “Are you complaining or complimenting?” she asked on a groan of pleasure.

Liam wasn't sure. What he was sure of was that the sounds she made on that hot breath rushing against his ear and neck were making him crazy. He conveyed that fact with a forward shift of his hips. “What do you think?” he countered, his agonizing erection obvious as he burrowed against her sex. He was burning and still he felt her heat. He rolled against her, swearing mightily under his breath as an attempt to ease the ache of his body turned into an act of torment when she suddenly lifted a leg in a luscious slide along the outside of his, opening herself up to his stroke. His cock was suddenly fully seated between her legs, mere fabric keeping them parted.

Devon threw back her head, her slender throat working to make a sound of ecstasy that would never come. Liam instinctively covered her mouth with a quick hand to forestall her, knowing that the security room was extremely close and Malcolm would hear her. He lifted his head to look down into her response-laden eyes and he felt her trembling hard against him with excitation and need.

“Shh,” he soothed her softly, torn between teasing the hell out of her like she'd been doing to him, and stepping back and giving them both room to breathe. And yet, how divine it would be to feel those sweet, supple legs wrapping around him, opening her more . . . “God, you're going to be the death of me. I just know it,” he accused her roughly.

He had meant it as a figure of speech, but the minute he saw the horror in her eyes, he realized his mistake. She squirmed to get away, but he had the advantage and he pressed it, trapping her between his body and the door. He slid his hand from her mouth, burying it in her thick hair and holding her gaze tilted up to his.

“I didn't mean it like that,” he said on a deeply felt whisper close to her lips.

“Liam . . .”

She shrugged her shoulder, as if to remind him his other hand surrounded her breast still. He smiled slightly at the idea that he could ever forget such a thing. Very deliberately he drew his thumb over the tip of that perfectly pointed nipple. She was so warm, a heated weight in his sculpting palm. Devon sucked in a breath and he felt her shimmy head to toe with pleasure. She was so responsive. Maybe it was wrong of him to take advantage of that, but he would use whatever method necessary to fix this blunder.

“I have a crazy kind of lifestyle, Devon,” he said before reaching to give her a gentle, lingering kiss, “and I know the price I pay for it.” Liam slid the palm at her breast upward over her, letting his calluses do all the work of stimulating her. He caught her groans with his mouth and tongue, sensing when her desire to escape him was overcome by her rushing arousal. Her hands fell to his upper arms, grasping his biceps. She closed her eyes and lost herself to him for a good pair of minutes before she gasped for breath.

When she surfaced from Liam's irresistible kisses, Devon found herself wound around his body tightly, her legs holding him captive, her hands clutching at his clothing, and her mouth wet and filled with his delicious flavor. Her brain was afloat in sensations she could barely sort out. What came clearest to her was the way he smelled. Just as a powerful, vital male in sexual arousal ought to: potent, musky, and scorching with heat. She lowered her face against his chest and rubbed against him like a cat marking scent, only she was taking it in.

“Mmm,” she murmured, “it's not fair that you can do this so easily.”

“Me?” His expression was as incredulous as his voice when she looked up at him. She couldn't help but smile at the genuine amazement in his amber eyes. “This coming from the woman who . . .”

He trailed off, obviously thinking better of his accusation, and she gave him a dirty look. “Coward!”

“Coward!?” He pulled back from her, completely untangling himself from her, looking at her askance.

“Yes,” she persisted as she straightened her top and tried to quell the bereft feelings left behind because he'd removed himself so suddenly. “A brave man would speak his mind to me, not edit himself for whatever reason. I don't need edited words or feelings.”

“I see. You're looking for truth, then? Pure, blatant, unadulterated truth?” The way he said it, his eyes broiling with burning intentions and steamy desire, made her swallow hard as excited anticipation flooded her. He moved forward again, settling against her hips first, making sure she was once again aware of his needy body. He leaned in close to her ear. “Because,” he whispered, “I was going to be a little graphic. I was trying to be a gentleman, or as close to it as I could get. Are you sure you want the truth?” he asked, his lips gliding hotly over her ear.

Since she was suddenly too breathless to form words, she simply nodded. He was so close she could feel him smile against her, as though he had been hoping for that response. She was trembling again, her nerves singing wildly under his influence. He reached up and drew a finger down the side of her neck, slowly wending his way down the low neckline of her top.

“You accused me of affecting you sexually in an overwhelming way, yes?”

“Yes,” she managed on a whisper. “And you said, ‘This coming from a woman who . . .'”

“This coming from a woman who can make me hard with just the turn of a phrase, the look in her eyes, or the way she laughs,” he told her huskily. “This unfair accusation coming from her lips while I'm like this . . .” Devon had no clue as to how or when he'd caught up her hand, but she was very aware when he cupped her palm in his and pressed it against his bulging fly. Her gasp was shocked, but not because the maneuver offended her. No. It was all about the wonderful size and thickness of the erection pressing against her palm and fingers. She heard him hold his breath, the sound of his teeth grinding together very telling as she pressed against him even more snugly than he had perhaps intended. Perhaps he had forgotten the nature of the creature he held in his arms.

“Liam,” she purred in uncontainable delight. Her reaction and enthusiastic touch turned Liam's little game against him. He throbbed harder against her touch, his blood pounding until he could barely stay on his feet. “See now how much better the truth can be?” the little vixen taunted him in a voice of pure sexual invitation. Liam had to agree. He surged against her hand and she responded with pressure and friction that extended his already engorged length in hard pulses of expectation. God, her touch felt so good. It was unreal. And if she kept it up, she was going to make him come right in his pants.

Liam had to stop her.