Feisty (7 page)

Standing before Sahara wasn’t the strung-up teenager she had seen dragged to one social event after another. No. This woman appeared calm, untroubled, a look of serenity their type of people hardly ever wore.

Looking over her shoulder, Sky asked, “Do you think Leo will like it?”

“He’ll love it, Sky.” Tears misted Sahara’s eyes. “You love him, don’t you?”

Sky pivoted, the flowing train following. “Yes, I do.”

“And what does your father think about this union?” Sahara asked, even though she suspected Wellington’s plan was to get a Supreme Court Justice in his back pocket.

Sadness spread across Sky’s pretty face as her shoulders drooped. “I’m afraid he’ll try to use your father.”

A knowing smile touched Sahara’s mouth. “Don’t worry about Dad. He’s played these games for a long time. He won’t do anything he feels isn’t in the best interest of his constituents.” Her father was a man of principles. Sky’s father was just the opposite.

Sahara stood and adjusted the train of the gown. “Are you going to wear a veil?”

Sky smiled as she admired herself in the full-length mirror. “No. I have a hairpiece Tabby said she’d bring. I wonder if everything is okay?”

Tabby had been having Braxton Hicks for the last couple of days. The whole town seemed concerned, which was odd to Sahara. She’d never seen a town so involved with each other.

“Sky, what do you know about Devon?”

Sky hesitated, seemingly lost in thought. “What you see—isn’t what you get. I mean—his bad-boy persona isn’t who he really is.”

And who would know better than Skylar Wellington.

For six years the young woman had masqueraded as Tempest Sky, a gothic chick, hiding from her father, building a life of her own as a glass blower. It was only by chance she’d stumbled into Whispering Cove and into Leo’s arms.

“Don’t get me wrong. The man is a diehard bachelor, but he’s also a family man. No one messes with his mother or his sisters.”

The bells hanging from the door tinkled as Tabby waddled in, appearing tired and drawn. It was amazing how much the Taylors all looked alike, from their coal-black hair to their olive skin.

Sky lowered her voice. “He’s attentive to his mother and sisters. I can’t help but think if he gave a woman a second look he’d make a wonderful husband and father.” Sky stopped talking as soon as Tabby was within hearing distance.

As Sky and Tabby chatted about the gown and headpiece, Sahara thought of Devon again. A committed relationship or a husband wasn’t what she was looking for. She had a promising career and hopefully soon-to-be partnership. A summer fling with the diehard bachelor was the only possibility. Besides, she wouldn’t mind discovering what else he might have in his bondage repertoire.

When the room grew silent Sahara looked up to see both women staring at her.

“I’m sorry. What did you say?” she asked.

“I asked your opinion about the headpiece. Judging by the smile on your face, your thoughts weren’t on my wedding dress.”

Tabby smirked. “Thinking of someone, Sahara?”

“Ha. Ha.” Sahara didn’t feel it appropriate to share with Devon’s sister exactly where her mind had been. “What’s next?”

The rest of the day was a blur of activity. There were flowers to approve. Cake tasting, which gave Sahara a sugar high and a headache. Perhaps lunch before dessert would have been a better plan. Oh that’s right. They had skipped lunch, deciding to meet at the Seafarer for dinner.

When they arrived at the rustic restaurant, Leo and Reece were waiting for them at a table. The glow in her brother’s eyes when he saw Sky sent chills across Sahara’s arms. Clearly, he loved the woman. As Sahara watched Leo take Sky into his arms, she wondered if the two might start a trend. Marrying for love instead of status, power or money. What a novel idea.

When everyone took a seat, Reece slung his arm around Tabby. “Babe, you look beat.”

“My feet hurt too.”

He leaned closer and whispered, “Do you want me to rub them tonight?” The gleam in his eyes took on a whole new meaning. Tabby giggled and murmured something in return Sahara didn’t catch, but she got the feeling it had nothing to do with Tabby’s feet.

Feeling like an intruder, Sahara turned to her brother, only to find him nose to nose with Sky. Quietly she got to her feet. When no one seemed to notice, she headed for the door. It sucked to be single and surrounded by so much intimacy. But she had to remember it was her choice. As she walked down the cobble streets of Whispering Cove, a cool breeze tossed her hair about. She folded her arms across her chest. Maybe she’d head back to the inn and see what was for dinner there, or maybe she would stop by the hamburger joint down the street if it was still open.

“Hey you.” Someone yelled from across the way.

When she looked across the street, she saw Devon standing in front of the local tavern, holding several sacks and a large metal pail. After looking both ways, he made a beeline toward her. Immediately her pulse began to race. Her body warmed and she had to restrain the girlish grin that wanted to surface.

Devon shuffled the paper bags in his arm. “Where you headed?” Something splashed in his bucket, but she couldn’t make it out in the dark.

“I thought I’d grab something to eat and take it back to the inn.”

“Hmmm. Have you tried DT’s Kitchen?”

As they strolled beneath a coach light, there was another splash. When a large red claw with a blue rubber band surfaced above the rim of the bucket, she let out a squeal.

Devon chuckled. “Nothing to be scared of. Just a couple of lobsters.”

Of course, everyone walked around after dark with a bucket of lobsters. She had to remember she wasn’t in New York. “Where is DT’s Kitchen?”

“It’s between my living room and the backyard. Wanna join me?”

Another smile touched her lips. “What can I get there?”

“Lobster, shrimp, corn on the cob and golden potatoes. For dessert I’ve got a big serving of me.” His voice deepened. “You interested?”

“Mmmm. Sounds good.” Really good.

Devon’s invitation for Sahara to join him had come from out of left field, but he couldn’t help himself. With moonlight bathing her face and her lips looking so kissable, he’d pretty much lost control. He wanted this woman and there wasn’t any reason to keep making excuses. She would be gone soon. Why not take advantage of a good thing?

“Do you want a ride or meet me there?” he asked.

“My car is right down the street.”

As they continued down the sidewalk, they found Harold out of breath and leaning against her car. When he saw them, he crammed something in his pocket.

“Everything okay, Harold?” Devon asked.

“Those young’uns.” He pointed down the street, before he looked down at the flat tire on Sahara’s car. “They let the air out of your tire.” Devon started to set his bucket and sacks on the ground when Harold grunted. “You two go on with your plans. I’ll get this fixed and have your car delivered to Sleepy Cove.”

Sahara frowned as she gazed down at the tire. “I can’t ask that of you.”

Well hell. This wasn’t exactly how Devon had planned to spend the night. “I’ll change the tire.”

“There be two flat tires,” Harold rushed in to explain. “One on the other side. Unless the lassie be having two spares, you be out of luck. Hand over the keys. I’ll take care of this.”

“Better do as the ol’ barnacle says.” Devon looked over his shoulder to see Byron move out of the shadows, Errol behind him.

Errol tapped his cane on the sidewalk as he joined them. “When the man’s mind is made up, it’s made up. We’ll call Larry. He’ll take care of everything.”

Devon glanced at the tire and then Harold. “Are you sure?”

“You be questioning me abilities to make a damn telephone call?” Harold grumbled.

“No, sir.”

“Keys!” he barked.

Without another word, Sahara dug into her purse and handed the man her keys.

Byron leaned against the car beside Harold. “You two have a nice evening.”

Devon didn’t quite know what to do. It went against the grain to let these three elderly men do something he was completely capable of doing. But they did say they would be calling Larry, one of the local mechanics. In the end, he thanked them and he and Sahara went on their way.

By the time they pulled in front of his house and climbed out of the truck, his body was demanding hers. The scent of vanilla with something spicy was intoxicating. There was the short, yellow sundress and heels she wore. The vision of her long legs wrapped around his waist was something that just wouldn’t go away.

Devon gathered the lobsters and groceries from the back of the truck. He had left the lights on and hadn’t locked his door because he knew he’d be right back.

When he awkwardly reached for the door, she said, “Let me get that.” Stepping to the side, she allowed him entrance and followed him into the kitchen.

After he set the pail in the sink, he placed the remaining groceries on the marble counter top next to the refrigerator. Next to his grill on the deck, he had a large propane cooking pot already filled with water. He had even prepared the herb sack before he’d left to go shopping. All that was left was to start the fire.

Focused on what he had to do, he pivoted a little too fast and ran chest to chest into Sahara. Tipping back on her heels, she released a squeal and began to fall. Devon reached out, caught her by an arm and pulled her to him.

“Damn. Sahara, I’m sorry.”

“No. It’s my fault.” Her nervous laughter drew his attention to her perfectly carved lips. “I got too close. I was watching those stupid lobsters, and I—”

Devon crushed his mouth across hers.

Sensual attraction erupted whenever they were together, causing him to lose focus. She had a way of making him forget himself, even his hunger and self-preservation, as the truth spilled from him. “I’ve missed this.” He’d missed her more than he even realized.

She melted against him. He felt her soft sigh against his lips. “Me too.”

Moving slowly, he curled his fingers in the lower back of her sundress and eased the material upward. When the dress was around her waist, he smoothed his lips to the valley between her breasts, where her perfume was the strongest, and inhaled.

“You smell good enough to eat.”

She cupped the back of his head and guided him to one of her breasts. “Don’t let me stop you.”

A growl rumbled in his throat. But he didn’t want a layer of material keeping him from her skin. In seconds he had her dress over her head. His heart nearly stopped when he realized she wasn’t wearing a bra. Her breasts were full, inviting. Sahara stood before him in nothing but her heels and a lacy yellow thong. His cock twitched and hardened. He tugged at his T-shirt and pulled it off, tossing it on her sundress. He took her in his arms, felt her diamond-hard nipples scrape across his chest. As he roamed his palms down her silky back, he spun her around to face the counter.

“Devon?”

“Shhh.”

Tucking his thumbs into the elastic of her thong, he dragged them mid-thigh to where they trapped her legs together. Then he reached for the refrigerator and pressed the ice dispenser button. Ice clunked around and a single cube dropped into his palm. When he placed the ice at the nape of her neck, she gasped and arched. Slowly he slid the coldness down her spine. As he traced it between the cheeks of her ass, over her anus, she released a breathy cry that made him smile. The second the cube touched her warm slit, it began to melt, water drenching his hand.

Tingles erupted in his groin. He had to fight to breathe, to contain the excitement rushing through his bloodstream. “Hot.”
So fucking hot
.

When he stroked her clit, circled the ice around the bud, she bucked and attempted to widen her stance to no avail. He did it once more, evoking the same reaction before he slipped the cube inside her.

Her breath hitched. “Oh my God. Devon.” A shiver visibly raked through her.

Moisture dripped down her thighs. The sight was arousing. He reached for another piece of ice and inserted it inside her. He added a couple more pieces until a puddle developed on the floor.

Her legs weren’t the only ones shaking. His balls tightened, throbbed. White fire built in them with staggering speed.

Placing a palm on her back, he drove her forward. She grasped the counter. Bent over, he could see her reddened flesh glistening from the water and her own juices. He had never seen anything so sensual. He opened a drawer and chose a dull butter knife. With the flat side, he spanked her tender flesh once, twice.

Her hips flew forward as she choked, “Devon!” A wave of long, strawberry hair flew as she jerked her head around and her gaze slammed into him.

The burn in her eyes increased the snap of his wrist, increasing the rhythm and pressure against her sensitive skin. When she screamed again, her body stiffened, her head lolled forward as her folds pulsated with her climax. A velvet-smooth moan slipped from her mouth.

Her reaction, the way he felt, was too much for Devon.

The knife fell from his hand. Trembling, he reached for the button and zipper of his jeans. His hands shook as he drove his pants down around his ankles. Without hesitation, he aligned the head of his cock to her opening and thrust. The fire and ice sensation was like lighting a roman candle. His orgasm ignited from the base of his groin, burning quickly, accelerating and shooting like a bullet from a gun. Stars burst behind his eyelids. The explosion was earthshattering as it tore through him, leaving him breathless, quivering, and he wasn’t the only one moved by the experience.

Sahara’s legs gave. Before Devon could react, they were both on the cold and damp wooden floor. She reached for him, holding on to him as if he was the only thing keeping her from drowning. How long they lay quietly in each other’s arms, he didn’t know. What he did know was letting this woman go would be the hardest thing he had ever done.

Chapter Five

Laughter surrounded Sahara as Victoria Michaelson placed a pacifier in her mouth and spit, projecting the thing a foot in front of her. According to their host, Josie Collins, this particular game was called Spit the Binky. The goal of the game was to propel the pacifier with gusto as far away as possible. Not very civilized, but the group of women standing in line with Vic were doing their best to outdo her, because the winner received a Sommerso figurine made by Sky. The colorful S-shaped artwork had to be worth a couple hundred dollars, but still not enough for Sahara to embarrass herself. At least it was easier and more dignified than the Diaper Designer game. The roll of toilet paper her team received ended up wrapped around Sahara’s hips and through her legs so many times it looked more like she wore a snowball than a diaper. The picture Katy snapped was definitely one she didn’t want hitting the Internet.