Fool for Love (36 page)

She stood there quite a while soaking in the heat, knowing she should move but not finding the strength. A knock on the door caused her to at least lift her head. “Come in.”

“Here’s your purse,” he said as he entered. “I started a fire in the … What are you doing?”

She
felt
the moment he spied her through the transparent stall. Her body hummed from the intensity of his gaze. Her compromised senses danced. “My clothes were dirty and I’ll have to wear them again tomorrow.”

“We could have washed them in the sink.”

“This seemed easier.”

“There’s a warped logic to that.” He eased open the glass door. “They look pretty clean now, honey.”

“I know, but … the water’s so relaxing. I feel like if I let go of the wall I’ll wilt.”

He stepped in with her, fully clothed. Mostly. He’d shed his rain jacket and shoes.

“Your clothes aren’t dirty,” she remarked as he pressed against her and placed his hands over hers.

“Maybe not,” he said close to her ear, “but my thoughts are. Does that count?”

She laughed. It was weak and a little nervous, but it felt good.

“Let me help.” He eased her hands off the wall, absorbed her weight.

First he peeled her sweater off, draping it over the top of the stall. Then he unbuttoned the front of her dress, slowly easing her arms from the sleeves, then pushing the bodice to her waist. One more tug and the dress fell in a soaked heap at her feet. She found the strength to kick it aside. Which left her in her bra and thong.

“I’ve spent several sleepless nights fantasizing about you in your underwear. Got my first glimpse at Oslow’s. The first day we met. Pink.”

She groaned with embarrassment.

“Then that day at the river. Pink and red flowered bra. Matching thong. Almost distracted me from your perfect body.”

She melted more with every word.

“Now,” he said, unclasping the hooks of her lacy black bra, “you’re killing me.”

She felt the straps brush off her shoulders, felt the bra fall away, leaving her breasts exposed. Even though the water was ultrawarm, the air steamy, her nipples puckered and an erotic shiver stole through her nearly naked body. She closed her eyes and moaned, relaxing against Devlin as his palms stroked her arms and his mouth grazed her ear.

“How do you feel?” he asked gently.

“Like I’m going to die if you don’t touch me.” She felt his smile, her breath catching when his hands caressed her breasts.

“Like this?”

“More,” she whispered.

His fingers skimmed her nipples, then plucked and rolled. At the same time he nipped and suckled her earlobe, igniting a firestorm of lust.

She could scarcely breathe. “More.”

Her belly coiled even tighter as one hand continued to fondle her breast and the other slid south, his fingers teasing the waistband of her thong, then dipping lower, touching her intimately.

The hot water pelted and excited. His fingers probed and played.

Chloe quivered with need, with anticipation. She’d fantasized about Devlin touching her like this. The reality trumped her wildest imaginings as she felt an orgasm building … building.… “Dying here.”

“Can’t have that.” Increasing the pressure, the intensity of his touch, he incited a heady rush of sensations, blurring her thoughts and blowing away even the most high-powered, jet-pulsing, masturbating showerhead.

Chloe cried out with an explosive climax.
Heaven.
Stars imploded behind her closed lids. Her body quaked, then wilted. “Oh, my God.”

“You okay?” he asked with a smile in his voice.

“Yes. I mean wow.” She laughed a little as pure bliss and relief surged through her blood. “Just need to catch my breath.”

“Feeling a little light-headed myself,” he teased while holding her steady. “Pleasuring you is an intense turn-on.”

She willed her legs steady as he brushed aside her long, drenched hair, then kissed the back of her neck. Her pulse refused to settle as he kissed and licked his way down her spine, his hands sliding over her wet curves, his fingers hooking the waistband of her lacy thong. He peeled away the wisp of fabric, nipped her butt, then, in a heartbeat, was again standing and silently soaping up her body.

“Wait.” She knew he was taking it slow because he was worried about her injuries, but just now a sensual ache outweighed all others. She turned in his arms and unbuttoned the drenched shirt that clung to every muscle of his toned torso. “I’ve been fantasizing about you, too.”

She also thought back on that moment at the river. How amazing he’d looked in his soaked clothes. The intensity of the erotic thrill when he’d peeled off his wet shirt. But the biggest turn-on had been before that, when he’d dove in and rescued her. Yes, she was being hypocritical. She didn’t want to be saved and yet, with Devlin, it had been the ultimate aphrodisiac. She couldn’t imagine Ryan diving into a river fully clothed or braving flooded roads to rescue her. She couldn’t imagine Ryan at all.

She pushed Devlin’s shirt off of his broad shoulders, reveled in hot, bare skin, but only a moment before unzipping his pants.

“Chloe…”

“When I was trapped in the woods, all sorts of insane thoughts went through my head. But mostly I focused on things undone. Things I very much wanted.” She shoved his pants down his legs. “I want you.”

He grasped her forearms and pulled her to her feet, face-to-face. “You … are dangerous.”

She smiled a little as she wrapped her soapy hand around his erection and stroked. “How do you feel about that?”

Groaning with pleasure, he met her lusty gaze, “Bring it on.”

*   *   *

Making love with Devlin was as close to perfection as Chloe had ever experienced. No moment rushed. No sensation spared. She’d felt cherished, in the shower and after when he toweled her dry, then carried her to the bed. She’d been hot, slick and ready and she knew she’d driven him to the edge minutes before with her hand, but instead of entering her right away, he’d turned her onto her stomach and trailed his fingertips over her shoulders and back, her sides and hips, a feather-soft touch that tickled and excited. Her butt and inner thighs. Her calves. Her feet.

Sensuous delirium.

Then he flipped her onto her back and started on her front. Could a person die of want? “Devlin,” she panted. “Please.”

“Savoring the moment,” he said in a husky voice.

“But—”

He silenced her protest with his deep kiss, then continued his feather-light assault, skimming his fingertips and mouth over her neck and collarbone. Her breast and stomach. Then …

“Oh, God.” She arched her back and moaned as he pleasured her with his mouth. So thrilling. So intimate. Suddenly he was there, his palms on her thighs, his tongue flicking over her most sensitive place, and she was helpless to resist. She almost climaxed twice, but each time he eased away, prolonging a delicious agony. Now … now her body quaked beneath his touch, his teeth and tongue as he drove her closer … closer … Lungs burning. Heart pounding. Muscles quivering. Chloe cried out with her second orgasm, certain she’d died and gone to heaven.

Only it got better.

Devlin shifted on top of her, cradled her face, and, while gazing intently into her eyes, slid deep inside. The friction, the rhythm, the erotic and overwhelmingly tender sensations … She climaxed within seconds. Breathless, embarrassed, she whispered, “Wow. Sorry.”

“Wow. Lucky me. Are you always this—”

“Easy?”

“Responsive.”

She palmed his face, then threaded her fingers through his hair. “This is a first. The multiple-orgasm part, that is.”

He smiled at that and her heart did a crazy happy dance.
This is love. This is love.

“Let’s go for more,” he said, resuming his lovemaking at an even slower pace.

To her amazement, even though she thought she was spent, satiated, her body responded, springing back to life, anxious for more. “I’m not sure I can survive this.”

“I was thinking the same thing.”

His hands skimmed her bare curves and in turn she explored the sinew of his shoulders, his back, gripping his tight butt and pulling him deeper. It was as close as she’d come to aggressive since she’d undressed him in the shower. Once he’d taken control, she’d crumbled with her own wants and needs.

“Not normally so passive,” she said softly as he dominated, pleasured. “Selfish.”

“Sexy.”

She couldn’t imagine why. Then again, her brain was short-circuiting.
Harder. More.
She tensed, quaked.

“Come for me, baby.”

His words seduced; his body tempted.
Burn. Soar.
She reveled in his physical intensity. Lost herself in a kiss that turned the world inside out. Delirious with lust, her stomach knotted with the beginnings of another orgasm. Amazed at the erotic sensations zinging throughout her body, she dug her nails into his biceps, holding tight as another earth-rocking climax slammed her senses and soul.

She called out and he followed, his own body shuddering with a powerful release. The passionate kiss lingered, then turned tender as he gently rolled off her trembling body, taking her with him, holding her close.

Her heart thudded against her chest, in her ears, almost muting his playful words. “I’m not normally so quick,” he said.

“That was quick?” She smiled against his neck, thinking, even at her most passive, she hadn’t been a dud in bed. Not with this man. Knowing she’d pleasured him without even trying was an incredible rush. As for her multiple orgasms, she’d been right: Devlin Monroe was a sexual paragon.

He brushed his lips across her forehead, then slipped away and into the bathroom. He returned moments later and pulled her into an embrace that warmed her far more than the down comforter.

Rain pelted the roof and windows, lulling Chloe closer to an exhausted sleep. Sated and happy, she snuggled closer, his lovemaking resonating throughout her weary body. Next time she’d give as good as she got. “Next time I won’t be so easy on you,” she promised in a drowsy voice.

He curled into her, smoothing a strong hand down her back. “If that was easy, I’m in trouble.”

THIRTY-FOUR

Devlin didn’t remember falling asleep. He remembered Chloe naked. Chloe driving him insane—her kisses, her touch, her throaty sounds of pleasure. He remembered incredible sex.

Not that he was a stranger to satisfying sex, but in addition to her mind-blowing responsiveness there’d been an added element. An emotional connection that had blindsided him.

Love.

He was savvy enough to recognize it. To acknowledge it. Voicing his feelings, however, would take time. Unlike Luke, who’d been in love several times, so he professed, for Devlin losing his heart didn’t entail losing good sense. Logic told him, he and Chloe barely knew each other. Logic said she was on the rebound and he had yet to maintain a healthy romantic relationship for more than a few months. On top of all that, he was feeling edgy because of his dad’s questionable health. Because of Daisy’s personal and physical crises.

At a moment when Devlin yearned to embrace life, to experiment and experience, to
embellish,
what if he declared his love only to scare Chloe away?

Or what if he put everything he had into the relationship, only to learn two months down the line she was returning to New York? Or home to her dad? Or that her passion for him—
I want you
—was as fleeting as her passion for photography? Or acting? Or publicity? The longer he lay there, staring into the darkened room, listening to the silence, the more he questioned her ability to commit long term. How long before she tired of Sugar Creek? Of his complicated, in-your-face-and-life family? Of cooking for and driving Miss Daisy? How long before she tired of his workaholic and controlling nature?

When did you become such a skittish pansy-ass?
he could hear Jayce say.

Devlin realized suddenly that he was pushing Chloe away before she could run—
like Janna.
Needing to shake off his present frame of mind, he gently disentangled his arms and legs from the woman who’d seduced his heart with her unique spirit, reminding himself that she wasn’t his ex-wife. And he sure as hell wasn’t a pansy-ass.

*   *   *

“Are you people
crazy
?”

Rocky turned in her seat to see Tasha stalking across the bar, taking wicked delight in the fact that her designer boots and coat were splattered with mud. Best guess: A car had driven through a puddle and splashed her big-time. Rocky smiled. “Won’t you join us for a drink?”

“Happy hour,” Monica said.

“Two-for-one,” Sam said.

Rachel held up a margarita on the rocks. “You can have one of mine if you want.”

Red-faced, Tasha made angry-eye contact with each of the people seated around the two tables they’d pushed together. Every core member of Cupcake Lovers with the exception of Daisy. “We were supposed to meet at the photography studio over a half hour ago. Instead you’re here at the Shack getting sloshed.”

“Speaking for myself,” Ethel said, after a sip of white wine, “I’m just getting started.”

“If you don’t want a drink, maybe you’d like an appetizer,” Helen said. “We just ordered. Sit.”

“I’m not—”

“Sit,” Sam said, pulling out the empty chair beside him.

“It’s not as if we stood you up,” Rocky said reasonably. “I texted you we weren’t coming. Even told you where to find us.”

Red-faced, Tasha huffed. “I didn’t believe it. Why would you all blow a chance to sign with a New York publisher?”

“Take a seat,” Casey said, motioning for a waitress, “and we’ll tell you.”

Tight-lipped, Tasha sat.

“What would you like?” Nell, the newest waitress on Luke’s payroll, asked.

“An explanation.”

“Not on the menu,” she said with a meek smile.

Tasha glared. “An Apple Martini. Now get lost.”

“Is that what you’d hoped would happen to Chloe?” Rocky asked, getting straight to the point.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the woman said as she peeled off her ruined coat and draped it on the back of her chair.