On the Steamy Side - Louisa Edwards [80]
“Can we maybe take this someplace more private than the living room?” she gasped out while she still had the brainpower.
“Your room is closer,” Devon said, wasting no time in steering her down the hall.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Lilah hustled, not because Devon was prodding her so much as because she had a sudden fear that she’d lose her nerve if they didn’t get on with it.
Despite what she’d told Grant, and despite her body’s clamoring desires, this was a big step for her. Bigger than her reckless decision to indulge in a one-night stand with a handsome stranger.
This was real. This meant something. She wasn’t sure what yet, but . . .
“Having second thoughts?” Devon asked, pinpointing her mood with uncanny accuracy.
Lilah opened her bedroom door, doing a quick scan to make sure she hadn’t left anything unmentionable lying around. But she’d only unpacked that afternoon, so things were relatively tidy. It was strange to see Devon standing there beside her bed; it was a sizable room, but his presence filled it from corner to corner.
She leaned back against the door. The heavy paneled wood was a welcome chill against the heated skin of her naked back.
“Why should I be? We’ve already done this once. It’s old hat at this point.” Just because she was a little nervous was no reason to suddenly start acting like a maiden aunt with an attack of the vapors.
“Old hat.” Devon was laughing at her, the pig, but with his eyes only. His beautiful mouth was as solemn as ever.
“Not that I’m a tramp!” Lilah said. “I wouldn’t want you to think that. Back home in Virginia, there weren’t that many eligible men running around, and most of them tended to go for the debs and mini-Junior Leaguers, not high school English lit/drama teachers who still lived with their aunt and uncle. But I had one boyfriend, Preston Langford was his name, he worked at the high school, math teacher, and we went out for about a year. Mostly because neither one of us had much else to do, and it seemed like a suitable match on the surface.”
Devon stalked closer while Lilah babbled. She watched him warily, but he didn’t reach for her until she, mercifully, ran out of air and had to draw a breath.
“But underneath the surface,” Devon cut in smoothly, lifting his hands to her hips and drawing her away from the door, “deep down, you wanted more than a ‘suitable,’ convenient man.”
His fingers burned into her flesh even through the material of her khaki slacks.
“I did,” she agreed breathlessly, her hands coming up of their own volition to grab Devon’s wrists where he held her. From there, her greedy fingers inched their way up his arms to his powerful shoulders, gripping hard.
“So when we met that night at the bar and you kissed me before you even knew my name . . .”
Fire swept up Lilah’s neck and into her cheeks. She was lucky the top of her head didn’t go up in smoke. “Yes?” she squeaked.
“That was a test, wasn’t it? Not of me—you weren’t trying to see if I was the ‘something more’ you’d been looking for. You were testing yourself, to see if you had the guts to go after what you wanted.”
His quiet perception knocked Lilah sideways. She blinked. “The whole world’s got you pegged wrong, and what’s more, you actively encourage it. It’s completely unfair and tricky of you to turn out not to be an arrogant bastard whose only concern is himself.”
Something flickered through Devon’s expression before his mouth curled up in a sneer. “Don’t kid yourself, my little country mouse. I’m every bit as self-involved as they say. My only real concern in life is to get exactly what I want. And at this particular moment, what I want more than anything in the world is . . . well, you.”
Against her will, Lilah’s heart did an odd, fluttering dance in her chest.
Stop it, she scolded herself. That body part is not supposed to be engaged in what’s about to happen.
“I want you, too,” she said, determined to be bold. “So what happens now?”
Rather than