Devious (2 page)

This
time, she did sit up, her gorgeous, green eyes studying my face intently.  “You
do a lot of things right, Stone.”

“Remember
those words when you’re mad at me,” I suggested, knowing that sooner or later,
I’d do something to piss her off.  “But I did do this right,” I continued,
snaking my right hand behind my back to fetch the slender box that I had tucked
inside the waistband of my jeans.  I handed it to her.  “Sorry that I didn’t
have time to wrap it.”

She
took the box in her hands, hesitating as she glanced back up at me.

“Open
it.”

Her
gaze fell back to the box, and she carefully lifted the lid.  Her mouth gaped,
and her eyes widened.  “They’re so pretty!”

A
small surge of satisfaction coursed through my veins.  I could tell by her
reaction that she liked them.  “Beautiful diamonds for my beautiful
hummingbird.”

“Did
you know they were my birthstone?”

She
had no idea how long I had been hunting her present.  Not only did I know that
diamonds were her birthstone, but I had laboriously drudged through every
jewelry store in a twenty-mile radius to make sure that I had the perfect
present for her.  I had finally settled on a pair of princess cut diamond
earrings.  They were dainty, high-quality diamonds that sparkled brilliantly,
much like Dara’s goodness.

“Yeah,
babe, I knew they were your birthstone.”

She
immediately removed the earrings that were in her second piercing and replaced
them with the diamonds.  Pulling her silky, blond hair back with her
fingertips, she asked, “How do they look?”

“Sexy.”

Releasing
her hair, she smiled.  After dropping the old earrings in the box and setting
it on the ground beside her, she entwined her icy fingers with the warmth of
mine.  “Thank you,” she said softly.

I
was relieved that Dara seemed momentarily distracted from her mother’s absence,
but I knew it would only be temporary.  I hated knowing that she thought her
mother didn’t care enough about her to come to her party, and I hoped that her
mother resurfaced before graduation.  Silently, I vowed that I would make her
pain go away.

And
damn it, that was one promise I was going to keep.

Chapter
2

Dara

I
watched my boyfriend, Stone Hamilton, exit the cafeteria doors.  Squinting from
the bright sunlight, he sauntered toward me in the courtyard.  His tall,
muscular frame stopped in front of me, and he tossed two bags of chips beside
me.  Pulling a bottle of orange juice from each pocket of his black, leather
jacket, he offered one to me. 

“I
wish I’d gotten my jacket out of my locker,” I said, annoyed by the goose bumps
that made every hair on my arm stand at attention.

Without
saying a word, Stone set down his orange juice and pulled off his jacket,
holding it out for me while I pushed my arms into it and savored his warmth.  “Oh,
my gosh, this feels so good.  Are you cold?”  As much as I relished his preheated
jacket, I didn’t want to be toasty at his expense.

He
shot me a crooked grin.  “How could I be cold when I’m this close to a hottie?”

A
tiny sliver of awkwardness shivered along my spine, and I couldn’t conceal the
grin that forced its way onto my face.  I didn’t know if I’d ever get used to
him talking to me like that, but I had to confess that I liked it.

He
sat beside me, his rock-hard biceps peeking out from his short sleeves as he
moved his arms.  Since the weather had started getting warmer, he and I had begun
eating outside instead of in the overcrowded, noisy lunchroom.

He
leaned over and kissed me on the temple.  “So how’s your day going?”

“Pretty
good, I guess.  How ‘bout you?”

“It’s
a helluva lot better now,” he said, kissing me on the lips.  He pulled open a
bag of potato chips and handed them to me.  Then, he picked up the other bag
and opened them.  “Did you ever hear from your mother?”

It
had been three days since my party, and I hadn’t heard one word from her. 
“Nope.”

His
jaw clenched.

“I’ve
tried to call her, but her number is still disconnected,” I added.  He turned
and looked at me, and I could see the concern in his eyes as I tried to
determine the color of them.  They were definitely blue, but they seemed to
alternate between a light, icy shade and a more brilliant blue, depending on
his mood or the lighting or maybe the color of his clothing.  In all honesty, I
wasn’t sure why the color seemed to vary, but I decided that right now, they
reminded me of the gulf.

“Maybe
she’ll call soon,” he said, though his voice wasn’t very convincing.

“Maybe,”
I agreed, desperately wanted to change the topic of conversation.  “Are you
working at the bookstore when you get out of school?”

“No. 
Tom scheduled Brandy to work, so I thought we could do something if you wanted
to.”

Stone’s
dad owned Quail Mountain Books.  Over the summer, he had agreed to let Stone
continue operating the bookstore in an effort to turn it into a money-making
business as a tribute to Stone’s deceased twin brother, Luke, who loved to
read.  It had taken a lot of hard work, but the bookstore had finally begun to
turn a profit.  Tom Sullivan managed it, and Stone had hired Brandy Morrison,
one of my friends from school to help out in the evenings and on weekends.

“Why
don’t you eat supper with us?” I asked.  “Granny’s cooking Mr. Milton’s
favorite: fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and baked beans.”

Stone
stared at his bag of chips.  “Sounds good.  I have a feeling that I’m gonna be
starving.”

“Me,
too.”  I popped a chip into my mouth and watched other students who were having
lunch along the benches that outlined the sidewalk in the square-shaped
courtyard.

My
eyes found Jessie Eldridge cozied up with a football player.  While they were
never technically a couple, Stone used to date Jessie, and I couldn’t seem to
stop the little twinge of jealousy that shot down my spine every time I saw
her.  I quickly tamped down the unwanted emotion and turned my attention to
Stone.

“I
have an idea that I wanted to run by you,” I said before popping another chip
in my mouth.

He
took a swig of orange juice and glanced at me.  “Shoot.”

“What
do you think about starting a book club?”

“I
only read when I’m forced to by overbearing teachers or morbid curiosity.”

“What
about an insistent girlfriend?”

He
eyed the length of my body, a hint of bad boy in his eyes.  “What’s in it for
me?”

“Let
me rephrase my idea,” I suggested.  “What if Quail Mountain Books had a book
club and every month a featured book was on sale?  And what if we named the
book club after Luke?”

I
could tell that the mention of Luke’s name had gotten his attention. 

“Keep
talking.”

“We
could add the book club information to the electronic newsletter and maybe even
have readings in the store or a blog on the website where readers can discuss
the book.”

The
bell rang.

Stone
groaned and rose to his feet, picking up his trash.

“We
can talk about it more after school,” I said, standing up beside him.  “You
want your jacket back?”

“No,
you keep it for now.”

We
walked to the trash can, throwing away our bags, and dropped our plastic bottles
into the recycling can.  Then, Stone grabbed my hand, and his warmth radiated
through my palm.

He
walked me to my locker and placed a quick kiss on my lips.  “See you after
school,” he said.

“Okay.”

He
turned and walked down the hall, and I admired him from behind until he was
lost in a sea of teenagers and the only thing I could see was the top of his
head towering above the crowd. 

***

When
the final bell rang, I rushed to my locker, relieved that school was finally
over.  Once I walked down the hall, I spotted Stone waiting patiently for me,
his backpack slung over one shoulder.

He
had already opened my locker, and my backpack was sitting at his feet.  I
stuffed the books in my hands in my locker and pulled out my English book and a
notebook, cramming them into my backpack.  I shrugged out of his jacket and
handed it to him, and then I reached in my locker and pulled my jacket out,
folding it over my arm.  I slammed the locker shut and twisted the dial on my
combination lock while Stone snatched up my backpack and threw it over his
shoulder.

“Do
you want to go to your house first or go straight to mine?” I asked.

“Yours. 
I don’t need to go home first.”

“Okay.”

I
glanced up to see Mike Waters, Stone’s best friend, heading in our direction. 
“Mike, my man, what’s up?” Stone slapped him on the shoulder.

“Not
much.  Are y’all on your way to Awesome Sauce?”

“No,
Granny’s cooking dinner,” I answered.  Awesome Sauce was the local teen hangout,
and Stone and I ate their often.

“I
think I’ll head on over and see if Crimson’s there,” Mike said.

“All
right,” Stone said.  “I’ll see you later.”

“Later.” 
Mike walked past us and disappeared down the hall.

“You
ready?” Stone asked.

I
nodded, sliding my hand in his.  He guided me through the throng of students,
who were eagerly escaping the grasp of the educational system.  Occasionally,
someone would shout a greeting to one of us, and we would reciprocate without
altering our pace.

The
crowded hallway finally spit us out the set of beige double doors at the end of
the building, and we escaped into the brilliant, afternoon sunlight.  I
shielded my eyes with my free hand, searching for Stone’s sleek, black
motorcycle.  Few students rode crotch rockets, so it was easy to spot. 

When
we reached it, Stone allowed the backpacks to slide down his arms and land on
the asphalt with a soft thud.  He put on his jacket, and then, he retrieved my
jacket from my arm and held it up for me while I slid my arms in and zipped it
up.  We each put on our backpacks and helmets, and Stone threw his long leg
over the seat and retracted the kickstand.

Once
I was settled on the seat behind him, he grabbed my leg and squeezed.  Then, he
revved up the bike, and we were on our way.

I
never grew tired of riding on the bike with him, although he did scare me
occasionally.  The air was a little chilly, but our helmets and jackets shielded
us for the most part.

Stone
pulled into Mr. Milton’s driveway.  I supposed I should have thought of it as
my driveway.  Granny and Mr. Milton had gotten married a few months ago, and
Granny and I had moved in with Mr. Milton when they got back from their
honeymoon.  As nice as Mr. Milton was, living with him still seemed strange to
me.

His
home was quite a bit larger and nicer than Granny’s house, and I had a spacious
bedroom with its own bathroom at one end of the house, which afforded me a lot
of privacy.

Granny
greeted me from the kitchen when Stone and I walked through the front door.

“When’s
supper?” I called to her.

“I’m
making a cake right now.  Supper won’t be ready for a couple of hours.”

“Stone’s
with me,” I called.  “We’ll be in my room.”

“Okay,
honey.  Does he carry protection with him?”

“Granny!”
I screeched.  “He doesn’t need any protection.”

“Just
checking,” Granny called.  “I was eighteen once, you know.”

“Oh,
my gosh,” I mumbled under my breath as I closed my eyes, prepared to die of
embarrassment.

“For
the record,” Stone whispered in my ear, “I do carry protection.”

“Well,
won’t Granny be relieved?” I asked quietly with just a touch of hysteria to my
voice.

Stone
chuckled as he followed me through the living room, down the hall, and into my
room.  He shut the door behind us, dropped his backpack, and shrugged out of
his jacket.  When I had done the same, he sat on the edge of my bed and
motioned for me to come to him.

“I’ve
been waiting to do this all day,” he said as he pulled me against him, laying
his cheek against my chest and squeezing my butt with his hands.  I inhaled the
scent of his cologne as I wrapped my arms around his neck, my fingers gliding
through his smooth, dark hair.

I
squealed as he snatched me up and rolled over, pulling me onto the bed with him. 
“Stone!” I cried, smoothing my hair from my face.  “Granny’s going to hear us.”

“Then
we better make sure it’s worth it,” he whispered, rolling on top of me and
pressing me into the mattress with the weight of his body.  His lips came down
hungrily on mine, and I reveled in his masculinity, the feel of his sculpted
muscles beneath his shirt, the way his hands roamed my body as if his need to
touch me was insatiable, the guttural groan that alluded to the pleasure he
found in my arms.

I
shoved him off of me and shot up into a sitting position.  He rolled onto his
back and his fingertips skimmed the edge of my jeans.

“What’s
wrong?” he asked.

“Did
you hear that?”

“Hear
what?”  He tucked his hands behind his head and relaxed on the pillow, his tall
frame filling the length of the bed.  “I don’t hear anything.”

I
listened intently, met only with silence.  I released a pent-up breath,
relieved that Granny wasn’t about to pop into my bedroom.  I exhaled loudly and
collapsed backward onto the pillow.

“What’s
with you?” he asked quietly.

“I
was afraid Granny was going to open the door.”

“I
locked it.”

“It’s
still weird to be making out, knowing that Granny’s in the other room.”

“You’re
eighteen, and based on the conversation we just had, I’m pretty sure she knows
that we make out.”

I
smacked him in the abdomen, satisfied when a small grunt escaped his lips.  “I
know, but it’s still weird.”

He
wrapped his left arm around my shoulders and pulled me to his chest.  “Legally,
we’re both adults now.”  His right hand deftly unbuttoned my jeans, and I heard
the sound of the zipper.  His fingertips traced the lacy edge of my panties. 

I
closed my eyes with anticipation as my heart thundered in my chest.  Realizing
that his nearness was clouding my judgment, I pushed his hand away and
refastened my jeans.

“Relentless,
aren’t you?”

His
chest rumbled with laughter.  “Don’t blame me for being a hot-blooded male.  I
mean, look at you.”

“I
want you to want me because you love me, not because you think I’m hot.”

I
turned to face him, and he stroked my cheek.  “I do love you, Dara, and I’m
ready to take our relationship to the next step.”

“I’m
not,” I whispered.

“Why
not?”