Chapter 13

Chapter 13

Itake my coffee back to the bathroom and start the process of putting myself back together. I stay in the shower far too long, letting the near-scalding water beat away all the mess in my head. By the time I wash my hair and body, I’m feeling almost like myself again. When I turn off the water and step out, I’m not even surprised to find Devan waiting for me.

He watches me dry off, expression nearly as greedy as I feel. Each second that ticks by is another lost. I want more, more, more, to fill up this day with him until there’s no room for anything else.

I drop the towel and cross to where he leans against the counter. “See something you like?”

“A mouthy woman who’s hell on my self-control.”

“I’m sure I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I catch sight of the lotion bottle in his hands. “I’m more than capable of putting on my own lotion.”

“I know.” He shrugs. “But I want to do it.” Devan levels a serious look at me. “Let me take care of you, Hazel. Even if it’s only for today.”

How can he say that when he’s been taking care of me in his own way for so long? Not like this, of course—not even in person most of the time—but there’s no denying that Devan has been looking out for me. He’s been a silent presence in my life for so long, one that I’ve told myself I hated, but have leaned on a little at the same time.

After today, that’s gone.

I don’t know what to think about that. So I don’t think about it at all. “Fine. Suit yourself.”

“I plan to.” He squirts lotion into his big palm and kneels before me.

It seems unnatural to have this man on his knees in front of me. He’s too dominant, too overpowering in a thousand different ways. But here he is, guiding me to put one foot on his knee and rubbing lotion into my skin with the utmost care, as if a rough move might tear me to pieces. It’s as agonizing as it is lovely, and I nearly bite my bottom lip bloody as he works his way up my leg to my hip, and then repeats the process with my other leg. No inch of skin is bypassed. Not my hips, my stomach, my breasts. Not my arms and back and ass.

When he finally sits back and looks at me, I’m shaking.

Of course I’m shaking. I always seem to be shaking around this man. The need is simply too much for one body to hold.

“I need you,” I whisper.

“You have me.”

For now.

The words neither of us speak, but that hang in the air between us all the same. The reminder that this is temporary and was always going to be.

Devan rises slowly to his feet. He’s still shirtless, and the casual intimacy of his being partially undressed in front of me is thrilling. He cups my jaw, lightly tracing his thumb over my cheekbone. “I like you like this.” Before I can laugh in his face—men always say that and they never really mean it—he continues. “I like the whole smoky eye thing, too.” The slightest hesitation, and then his voice deepens. “And you know very damn fucking well that I like your red lips.”

“Um.”

“Hush. I’m thinking.” He finally nods to himself. “I want to make your eyeliner run, birthday girl. Not because you’re sad—because you’re choking on my cock. First, we eat, then you can come back here and do whatever you want to your face. We’ll get started after that.”

I want to demand we get started right this second and not waste another minute with something as mundane as food, but from the stubborn set of his jaw, there’s no budging him on this. “If you insist.”

“I do.” He grabs the robe from the hook on the back of the door where I left it and drapes it around my shoulders. Devan drags knuckles over my skin as he closes the robe and knots it.

The damn tease.

I follow him. I’m not even shocked to find a cart with a selection of breakfast items on it, even when Devan pulls off the plate covers to reveal several of my favorites. Pancakes, a veggie omelet, and a mixed berry bowl. He catches me looking and shrugs. “I wasn’t sure what you’d like.”

I hadn’t been able to eat the morning after my twenty-second birthday. It’d felt like the worst hangover of my life, and not even my normal staples had sounded good. Devan had asked me my favorites that morning, too, had ordered them all on the off chance my stomach could handle them. Of course he’d remember them the same way he remembered my preferred way to have coffee.

I go with the omelet and eat slowly, watching him as I do. He’s digging his way through a plate of biscuits and sausage gravy that, honestly, looks really amazing. Devan catches me looking and gives a faint smile. “Want some?”

“If you’re willing to share.”

He grabs a small plate and transfers half a biscuit and plenty of gravy onto it. As he pushes it across the table to me, I’m once again struck by how domestic this is. This is something couples do, right? Share food easily. I can’t really remember ever doing it before. I’m a big believer of ordering what you want and sticking with that; if I want fries with my salad, I’ll order a side instead of picking them off my partner’s plate. Boundaries are important and the last thing I want to deal with is someone’s bitching.

I never really stopped to consider that this could be another way of taking care of someone. Maybe it’s not with other people, but it feels that way with Devan.

When we finish breakfast, he pours me another mug of coffee, doctors it with a drop of cream and a heaping spoonful of sugar, and sends me to get ready. As I put on my makeup, I allow myself to anticipate what comes next. There’s no point in mourning the loss of this man before he’s even gone. It means detracting from the pleasure still in my future. I will be totally and completely present during the rest of the day.

I apply my eyeliner a little heavier than normal. Just for Devan.

After the briefest consideration, I decide to put on my spare lingerie set—yes, I brought a spare. A girl can’t be too prepared, and I’m glad for that now. It’s another garter and stocking set, this time in black. I skip panties entirely. Devan seemed to really like playing with me through the lace last night, but if I was going to seduce, I would do things my way. On second thought, I take off the bra, too, leaving only the garter and thigh-highs. A pair of black stilettos completes the image.

I don’t have a dress sexy enough for seduction, so I skip it entirely and pull my black coat around me. It’s just long enough to cover up the garters, but only barely. Devan’s pulled open the curtains in the living room and is sitting at the desk, his gaze on the tablet in his hands. I know he’s aware of me, but this is his fantasy, and I want to provide it just as perfectly as he did mine.

Taking a deep breath, I rap my knuckles on the door frame. He looks up and surprise flickers over his face. “Hazel?”

“Can I come in?”

“Yeah.” He doesn’t stand, doesn’t move as I approach, his gaze raking over me, taking in the stockings and heel. “Is something wrong?”

“You could say that.” I bypass the seating options and don’t stop until I’m far too close to be proper. As much as I love submitting to him, there’s something thrilling about playing the part of the temptress, especially when I lean back and my coat edges up to reveal the lace tops of my thigh-highs. I worry my bottom lip a little, suddenly nervous despite everything. “Devan, I can’t stop thinking about what happened between us.”

He carefully sets the tablet aside and appears to give me his full attention. “You shouldn’t be here.”

“I know.”

“If my business partners see—”

“Devan, I know.” I drag in a rough breath. “It’s only been two weeks since I turned twenty. Since we… I… I’m going to break up with my boyfriend.”

He narrows his eyes. “Did Chad do something?”

“No, Jason didn’t do anything. That’s the problem.” I give a rough laugh. This part skates far too close to the truth, but so has everything else we’ve done to date. “You made me come more times in that bathroom that he has in our entire relationship. He doesn’t care if I get off.”

Devan gives me a long look. “Why are you in my office, telling me that you’re going to break up with your frat-boy boyfriend? Shouldn’t you be telling him this?”

“I will.” I hesitate. “I just…”

“You just what?”

“He didn’t even notice. You fucked me in that bathroom and he didn’t even notice. He was so drunk, he didn’t even smell you on me.”

He sits back and crosses his arms over his chest. “Did you fuck him that night, Hazel?”

“No. He wanted to, but… No.” It doesn’t matter that this is all alternate history. I can see it. Jason had been so drunk that night that he didn’t even notice Devan had shown up and taken me home. He was more concerned with coming himself than he ever was with me getting any pleasure out of the whole experience.

“Why are you here?” Devan repeats.

I reach for the front of my coat. I don’t have to entirely feign my shaking hands. Button after button, until the coat gapes and he can see exactly how little I’m wearing beneath it. “I’m here because I need you, Devan. I need you to make me feel good again.”

“You’re here to cheat on your boyfriend.” He says it softly, but his gaze is stuck on my breasts. I lean back on the desk and shrug my shoulders so the coat falls off them, giving him a better view.

“Devan.” I wait for him to drag his gaze to my face. “How can I cheat on my boyfriend when you were just loaning him my pussy to begin with?”

“Get rid of that coat.”

I obey immediately, standing just long enough to toss it aside. The way he looks at me… God, I wish I had a camera to catch his expression right now. Devan looks at me like he wants to memorize this just as much as I do. He nods slowly. “Spread your legs, birthday girl.”

This time, I move slower, parting my thighs as he moves the chair closer. He coasts his hands up my legs, pushing them wider yet. “You came into my office in nothing but a coat and tights.”

“Yes.”

“You trying to get me fired?”

“No.” I shake my head. “I just… I wasn’t sure you’d want to—”

“Hazel.” He cuts through my babbling sharply. “I promised you I’d take care of you, didn’t I?” Devan uses his thumbs to part my pussy, his gaze intent. “Obviously I’ve fucked up if I’m letting some frat boy pound your pussy without getting you off.” He glances up. “He ever look at you like this?”

“No,” I breathe. “He mostly fucks me at night after a party.”

“Fool.” He’s still watching me as he runs his thumbs over me. “He lick your pussy, Hazel?”

I shake my head. Devan’s eyebrows wing up, but he doesn’t continue, so I say, “Please. Please make me feel as good as you did before. Please, Devan.” His thumb brushes my clit and I jerk. “I need your cock. I need your mouth on me again. I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?”

I’m already nodding. So easy to promise things when I haven’t seen Jason in five years, but I have the sneaking suspicion that I’d agree to this even if I was dating him right now. The rules don’t seem to apply to Devan and me. “Yes. Anything.”

“I want you to break up with Jason.”

I blink. “Well, I was already planning on doing it.”

He shakes his head slowly. “I want you to do it properly. Tell him a man is seeing to your pussy in a way he never could—the same man who made you come three times in the bathroom of his party.”

I stare down at him. “I think I’d rather just send him the video you took. Do you still have it?”

“Of course I still have it.” He drops his hands and sits back, seeming to be oblivious to the giant cockstand pressing against his jeans. “But I’m not sending it to anyone. Guy like that? He’s likely to share it everywhere he can to get revenge on you.”

He’s not exactly wrong. Jason was a spiteful piece of shit. There’s a reason we only dated a few weeks before I dumped him and moved on. Spitefully leaking a sex tape is exactly something he would have done. “It would get the point across.”

“I take care of you,” Devan says slowly. “That includes this.” He pins me with a look that threatens to curl my toes. “Dump him, Hazel. If you do, you can have this cock right now.”

“Right now?” I lick my lips. “You promise.”

“I’ll fuck you on my desk like the little slut you are.”

I pull my phone out of the coat pocket and type out a text. Once I’m finished, I flip it around and show Devan. “Good enough for you.”

He reads, pauses, and rereads, his eyebrows climbing. “Fuck you, Jason,” he reads aloud. “Go fuck yourself, because that’s all you’re good at. I’m going to go get my pussy taken care of by a man who knows where the clitoris actually is. Lose my number.” He sets the phone aside. “That certainly gets the point across.”

“I prefer to be blunt.”

“I know.” He moves quickly, jerking me off the desk and onto his lap, and takes my mouth. It’s a searing kiss. Both punishment and reward. Devan grabs my ass and brings me more firmly against him, his cock a hard length against me. But the damned jeans are in the way.

I break the kiss and whimper. “Please. I can’t wait any longer.”

“Too damn bad. You came here, birthday girl, so you’re operating on my timeline. Now be a good girl and get on your knees.”