High Passion

CHAPTER 16

Devon had the locks out of the door before she’d finished telling him about discovering Vincent in her bedroom. “We’ll get these rekeyed today. Do you want me to stay here with you, or do you want to spend the night at my house?”

“I didn’t mean to interrupt your life, Devon.”

He fought to keep his frustration from showing because she didn’t need more to deal with at the moment. Still, his sense of worth had gotten a major bucketload of crap dumped on it after hearing she’d gone from his bed, to being frightened, to asking Tripp for help. “Oh, it might sound as if you get to decide which, but those are your two options. I won’t accept anything else.”

He turned in time to catch her rubbing her brow. She met his gaze, more than a little guilt in her expression. “I didn’t leave you out on purpose. I was frustrated and scared and just reacted.”

“I get it. But now you’ve got time to think, and you can make a choice. Which do you prefer? If you want to stay here, good, but I need to know so I can pack a few things.”

She shook her head. “There’s no room here us both. I’d be grateful to bunk with you for a while. I don’t understand what’s come over Vincent. I mean, he’s always been intense, but he’s never been difficult like this before.”

She collapsed onto the couch, worn and frustrated as she gazed out the window.

Devon gave himself a mental slap. She hadn’t done anything to deserve this, either. “Pack. We’ll talk about Vincent and his being difficult once we get to my house. We’re still changing the locks, even if there’s less than a month left on your lease. That’s crazy, by the way. I thought you had an ongoing contract?”

Alisha rose and headed to her bedroom, pausing to drag a suitcase from the hall closet. “I did, only it’s a yearlong one and it was up soon. They’d told me verbally it would be renewed, but we hadn’t signed anything. They’re not doing anything illegal.”

“Just nasty.”

“Yeah.”

She vanished from sight. He popped the lock into his pocket and grabbed a box to load fridge supplies into. He was determined she’d stay with him until Vincent left town—there was no need for her to be afraid, or have to scoop science experiments from the fridge in a few days’ time.

Once he got over his initial mad, he had to look on the brighter side. Having her in his house wasn’t a hardship at all. It was a small place, but big enough that they had room to get away from each other if needed. And they didn’t even have to share a bed, although he hoped that option fell by the wayside damn fast.

The reasons to have her join him sucked, but having an excuse for her to stay?

He ignored the pleasure that brought him as best he could, but the voices calling him a hypocrite were damn loud. He didn’t let women stay the night. He didn’t want to get attached.

He was screwed, because he was attached, and that was the plain and simple truth.

Settling in took far less time than he’d expected. He cleaned out a drawer in the bathroom, showed her where the extra towels were. They got a load of laundry going from the morning’s training.

When he went to rearrange the tiny room that held the Murphy wall bed, Alisha caught his arm. “I could sleep on the couch.”

“I want you in my bed,” he admitted, pulling the mattress to horizontal. “But I want you to have your own space if you need it.”

She nodded, snatching up the blankets he’d put to the side and helping him make the bed. “I can use it to lay out my gear, then.”

Her wink wasn’t enough to distract him from the conversation they needed to finish. “You can’t make me forget I’m grilling you for details.”

Her sparkle vanished. “Meanie.”

“Detail-loving meanie.” He straightened the pillow, then held out his hand. “Come on.”

She followed him, dragging her feet as he took her to the living room and clicked the gas fireplace on. “There’s not much to tell. Vincent is being . . . demanding. He wants me to marry him.”

Words froze on his tongue. His face must have been a sight to see because she burst out laughing. Which was enough to snap him out of shock. “Shit, what kind of insanity is that? I mean, not that wanting to marry you would be a fate worse than death, but it sounds as if he’s a touch demented.”

Alisha wrapped her arms around her legs as she curled up in front of the fireplace. “He’s always been like that. Talked about what he wanted, and boom, it happened. Usually it didn’t matter much to me because he was this older person who hung out with my parents. I had to say hello and good-bye, and do all the polite society things . . .”

She raised her eyes to his as she trickled to a stop.

He nodded. “I figured out who you are, if that’s your hang-up. I spotted the high-society roll call with your name, and the shining tiara hovering over your head.”

“I’m Alisha Bailey, member of Lifeline and a top-ranked SAR member. That’s who I’m proud of, and that’s who I want to be.” The words came out firm and strong.

He clapped, and the tension on her face lightened. “Good for you. And you’re right. If you don’t want to do the family thing, then you shouldn’t feel obligated. Especially if they’re not firing on all pistons.”

She nodded slowly. “I feel bad about my mom at times, because I think if it were up to her, she’d give me more leeway.”

“Dad’s in charge, is he?” Devon knew the answer before he saw her nod. “Figured.”

“And Vincent is worse than my father, if you can believe that. He’s definitely not going for Mr. Congeniality.”

Devon picked up her foot and lowered it into his lap, rubbing his thumbs along her insole as he pondered. “If he goes home and leaves you alone, that would solve all your problems. You hoping that’s what will happen?”

“Not much else I can do. He hasn’t directly threatened me, and . . .” Alisha hesitated. “Okay, the reality is right now if I go to the RCMP, I’m not sure what good it would do. The ways he could use the media to twist things in his favour are scary to think about. Police reports notwithstanding, it’s my word against his, and I’m a lot lower on the political totem pole. The people who would use a police report against him aren’t necessarily my friends, either.”

“So you’re trapped into not going to the media because you’d lose.” He shook his head. “You live in a damn weird world.”

“Lived,” she snapped. “Which is why I wanted out so bad. That, and because I really do love what we do.” She groaned happily, wiggling down farther. “I’m going to melt into the floor if you keep rubbing my feet. Can we not talk about Vincent anymore?”

“Last question. Would calling your father and letting him know any of this help?”

She considered for a moment, but the misery on her face only grew stronger. “If I mention anything about Vincent wanting my shares that’s going to open up the whole marriage issue. My dad would more likely ignore the suggestion it’s about taking control, and insist Vincent’s goal is to make a strong, political marriage—like the family suggested years ago. He’d join in to convince me Vincent was the catch of the century. He might even start his own media blitz to push us together. Those are the positive possibilities.”

“Shit. Worst case?”

“Worst case, he figures out some way to make you look bad—as if you’re the one who came between true love and financial happiness.”

“Hmm.” He exchanged her right foot for her left. “I’d be the other man, would I?”

“It’s not as fun as it sounds. You don’t need to be shredded in the media for something you didn’t do. I doubt Marcus and Lifeline would appreciate it, either.” She leaned back, glassy-eyed as she watched him strip off her second sock and start all over again. “I want Vincent gone, and I want to go on with my life. Poor, but contented.”

She sighed unhappily, then pulled out her cell phone. She stared at it as if it were a snake.

“You calling your father?”

“I . . . should. You’re right. He deserves a warning, and if he can help get Vincent back to Toronto, that would make me blissfully happy.”

She sounded so miserable his heart ached. “You don’t have to, but maybe your father will surprise you and pick door number three this time.”

Devon waited as she put through the call, concentrating on massaging her feet and distracting her from the wait as it took forever for her father to come on the line.

Alisha got straight to the point. “Vincent Monreal is in Banff, and acting very strange. I wondered if you knew anything—Well, of course, I’m certain. I saw him myself.”

She rolled her eyes as she listened to his response, frustration clearly rising. Obviously door number three didn’t involve her father accepting information with open arms.

“I don’t care if he’s supposed to be in Vancouver attending a symposium. He was in my apartment uninvited last night and . . .” She broke off, and glared at the wall. “Dad. Stop interrupting. I called because I’m concerned about Vincent, who is still here in Banff whether you believe it or not, but I’m also worried about you. Is everything okay with Bailey Enterprises?”

Her father answered.

Alisha’s forehead creased. “No, I’m not trying to be insulting. I heard . . . a rumour there might be some—”

She was cut off and remained silent for another thirty seconds. By the time she’d hung up Alisha was swearing lightly.

Devon sat silently, rubbing her calves as she slammed a fist against the floor. It took her a surprisingly short time before she let out a long, slow breath and pulled her arms into a yoga position of peace.

He smiled in spite of the frustration. “I take it that went well.”

“Vincent is in Vancouver, you know.”

“That wouldn’t be hard to disprove,” Devon pointed out.

Alisha waved a hand. “You know what? I tried. My father doesn’t want to believe me, and I’m not going to force the facts down his throat. We’ll deal with Vincent together for the few days before he has to return to Toronto. Not even he can pull off a magic trick that puts him in the Bailey Enterprises head office and Banff at the same time.”

She shook her head, sadness clear in her eyes.

Devon leaned over and caught her before she could escape. He kissed her softly, brushing his lips over hers in a tender caress. When he pulled away, she was smiling a lot more than the moment before.

“What was that for?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Because you’re the bravest woman I know. Because I’m honoured you trusted me enough to share your concerns. Because your heart is in the right place.”

Alisha beamed at him. “Oh, you are so getting lucky tonight.”

“Well, if you insist.”

She laughed and scrambled forward, and suddenly words were put aside, and the sexual tension that was always present between them raced back up to full. Devon enjoyed the way she crawled into the middle of the room, then knelt with her chin slightly lowered so she gazed through her lashes.

His lips curled upward as he looked her over, the kind of smile that promised all sorts of naughty things.

She shivered, trying to decide what she wanted tonight, but the first and only thing that came to mind was that she didn’t want to decide. After everything that had happened, after her father had basically accused her of outright lying, she wanted to shove all of that bullshit aside and concentrate on what she knew was good and right in her world.

Concentrate on the way that Devon could make her feel desirable and wanted and passionately alive. “So you had a list of things to try with me. What’s next?”

Devon raised a brow. “You’re serious?”

Alisha waited. Took a deep breath. “Looks like you’re in charge, Mr. Leblanc. What’s the protocol for this rescue?”

His eyes lit up as he figured out her somewhat awkwardly worded suggestion. “What’re your limits?”

“No means no. Beyond that?” She shrugged. “Unless you’ve got extreme kinks you’ve managed to keep secret from me during school and the time on the team, which isn’t likely, I can handle and enjoy anything you want to hand out.”

Devon got to his feet and stepped closer to where she knelt. He pulled off his shirt and tossed it aside. “The only one on the team who’s keeping secrets is Erin. The rest of us are pretty up front about what turns us on.”

He stroked her cheek, tucking her hair behind her ear before striding away to the bathroom. Alisha checked out his ass as he went and, when he returned, the bulge rising at his crotch. His comments and the visual indulgence before her were enough to distract her from wondering what his plans were. “Erin has secrets?” Alisha asked.

“Let’s focus on right here and what we like instead of wondering what kinks rev our pilot’s engine.” The condom he’d gone to grab waited on the coffee table. He stepped in front of her again and palmed his erection, fisting himself through the loose fabric.

Alisha swallowed hard.

Devon hummed in approval even as he continued to stroke, his wrist twisting as he worked. “I love your expression. It’s somewhere between panic and full-out lust. Take off your shirt, Alisha,” he ordered.

She grasped the bottom and stripped the soft cotton over her head, working to slow her breathing now that there was barely anything to hide how excited she was.

Devon strolled around her slowly, giving her ample time to admire the flex of his muscles, the firm cuts of his abdominal muscles and strong curves of his biceps. “You’re so delicious to look at,” she breathed softly.

He trailed his fingers over her shoulders. “Delicious? I like that.” His voice lowered a tone. “Lose your pants and get back on your knees.”

A shiver took her as she hurried to follow his directions. She had an aching need in her core, wetness growing between her legs as she scrambled into position. Her outer clothing was abandoned on the floor by the couch. “I should have taken off my panties.”

Devon lowered himself slowly as he deliberately stroked his fingertips down her torso. Over her collarbone, along the edge of her bra. Her skin tingled as he carried on all the way past her belly button. “Your panties are fantastic. They’re going to come in handy.”

She held her breath as he circled the tiny bow at the front of the silk covering her mound. Tiny motions that inched down so slowly, she was shaking with anticipation before he pressed over her clit.

“Oh, very nice, Alisha. So. Damn. Wet. I could slide right in, couldn’t I?”

She opened her mouth to speak, but he pushed harder, and the moisture-softened fabric gave way slightly. His fingers entered her core. Just enough that he could tease, circling her pussy entrance, his thumb extended upward to graze her clit again and again.

The urge to thrust her hips forward was impossible to resist. She opened her legs wider and rocked against his hand.

He held her by the back of the neck, locking her in place as he stared into her eyes. “You’re wet, but you’re not wet enough. You’re going to come before we do anything else. Soak your panties. I’m going to get you so wet your thighs are coated.”

She gasped for air as he increased pressure, and that was when he kissed her. Rough, nearly wild. His tongue thrusting in deep and matching the rhythm of his fingers. She caught him around the shoulders and held on tight, her nails digging into his skin, his muscles flexing under greedy hands she couldn’t keep still.

When he shoved aside the fabric and impaled her on his fingers, she cried out. Her head fell back as he played her, her body shaking as if she were possessed. Sensitive pressure points deep inside were stroked unmercifully, and when she couldn’t take it any longer, he put his teeth to her neck and bit down.

Her climax burst like a firework, bright lights before her eyes and roaring noises in her ears. Alisha shook as Devon held her vertical and let her sheath squeeze around his thick fingers.

When she could draw a deep breath, he was smiling.

“Good?” he asked.

She nodded. “Very good.”

Then she was on her back on the thick carpet, her bra being pulled forward along with her arms. Devon wrapped the loose banding around her wrists, tying her arms together in front of her.

Alisha tugged, but she was firmly trapped. “I’m impressed. That was what, five seconds? Ten?”

Devon loomed over her, his sexy smile making her heart rate keep pounding. “My turn,” he whispered.

He straddled her, pressed down the top of his sweats. His cock leapt free, the thick length rising up to tap his abdomen. Alisha licked her lips.

Devon grinned wider, the blue of his eyes sparkling as he angled closer. “That’s right, get your lips nice and wet. Suck my cock. Get me hard.”

“I think you’re hard already,” Alisha teased. She let him press the heavy crown to her pouting lips, opening slowly as he added pressure.

It was worth it to hear his deep sigh of satisfaction. “Fuck, that’s good.”

Devon drew back and forth for a dozen slow, deliberate strokes before shuddering and pulling out. He panted a few times, his eyes closed tight before he caught her again and kissed her.

She laughed softly when he rearranged her on a cushion he stole from the seat of the couch. “Nearly lost it, did you?”

“Jesus, your mouth is a danger zone. I wasn’t ready to blow.”

She was going to make some comment about “blowing his mind,” but he was over her again, his mouth on her breast as he sucked her nipple hard, and she decided talking was highly overrated.

It went on and on. With her hands tied together, her breasts were thrust upward, making it easier for him to palm her. To lift her nipple and play over the hardened tip until she squirmed. He’d lave it gently with his tongue. Use the edge of his teeth to the edge of pain.

Then start all over again.

She wanted to wait. Wanted him to set the pace, but it was too exquisite a torture. “Fuck me, please.” The words escaped breathlessly. Aching.

Begging.

If she’d been needy before, she was throbbing now.

Devon put on the condom before he caught her by the knees and lifted her legs into the air. His gaze fixed on her sex and ass as he used one hand to hold her feet toward the ceiling, the other to slip a hand over her panties.

“Oh yes.” He smiled, then pulled the fabric to her knees.

The move surprised her. It didn’t allow her to open her legs, pull him to her and take his cock. She was still trapped, her legs thrust into the air.

He rose up on his knees as he pressed her limbs closer to her torso. “Oh yes, very nice.”

He smiled as he rubbed the head of his cock between her labia, and Alisha shook. He adjusted his angle to fuck between her tightly closed legs, not entering her, but nicking her clit again and again.

“You’re killing me.” Alisha whimpered, squeezing her ass muscles. Trying to find a way to take control, but there was none. He had it all.

“Ready?” he whispered.

She didn’t get time to respond before he slipped inside. Thrust all the way to the root, his cock so hard and heavy she cried out. The angle was incredible, the tilt increasing as he pushed her legs over her head and rocked his hips forward making that happy spot inside fire up again.

When he let her legs free she kept them balanced skyward. He grasped her hips, dragging her higher, holding her in place as he pounded into her. Heavy thrusts, demanding. Each one a possession, and oh so good. Another climax raced over her, and she called his name as the room went blurry.

Devon shouted, rocking in shorter and tighter strokes. Furious speed, heavy pressure exploding as Alisha’s climax carried on, dragged out through the aftershocks as Devon came. His body over hers, chest pressed to the back of her thighs.

When he rolled off he was still panting. He caught her into his lap and jerked the bra from her wrists, sinking them into another kiss as they gasped for air. Striving to recover, but needing the intimacy of the contact.

Her body hummed with satisfaction and she laid her head on his chest, fingers stroking him softly as the fire bathed them in rosy light.

Satisfaction on so many levels.