The Devil She Knows

This time, she was the one to close the space between them. Grabbing the tie she’d already loosened, Willow pulled him tight against her half-naked body. The texture of his suit touching her skin only served to remind her that she was vulnerable while he was still completely covered up.

He could have stopped her, but he didn’t. Instead, he let her pull him down, his back arching so they were face-to-face.

“Don’t let the white fool you. I haven’t been a virgin since I was sixteen.”

The dark wing of his eyebrows rose in surprise. “That young?”

“Let’s just say it was a moment of weakness.”

“Like me.”

“Not like you. That was a regrettable bow to peer pressure and was hardly earth-shattering. This is a moment of insanity. And I have a feeling I’ll remember it for the rest of my life. For much better reasons.”

“God, I hope so.”

“God has nothing to do with it.”

Without warning, Dev swept her up into his arms.

She directed him to her bedroom, and he carried her up the stairs as if she was as light as one of the feathers that lay scattered in their wake. He didn’t bother to turn on lights when he reached her room. There was enough moonlight that he could see. Placing her softly on the bed, Dev took a step back.

Willow leaned up on her elbows to watch.

Without a care for his own clothes, he let the suit coat slide to the floor. She almost protested, but her mouth was too dry. Anticipation buzzed through her, an electrical shock of need. With dexterous fingers, he finished the job she’d started outside and pulled the tie free.

Without breaking eye contact, he torturously unbuttoned his shirt. Her legs scissored restlessly on the bed, silk rasping against silk. She wanted him to be the one touching her. But she wanted to enjoy the show more.

And she wasn’t disappointed. Billowing behind him, the shirt fluttered to the floor, his own set of broken wings.

What to look at first? His chest was wide, shoulders tight with muscle. They tapered down in a V to his amazing abs. His biceps flexed. Jesus, the man was built. And not with the kind of muscles that came from working out in a gym.

What the heck did he do? And why did she care? She could ask him later.

Bouncing up onto her knees, Willow couldn’t keep her hands to herself anymore. Grasping the waistband of his pants, she tugged him to the edge of the bed. His hands tangled in her hair, sending the pins she’d used to pull it up scattering across the bed.

Some of them pulled, but she didn’t care. Dev’s fingers sifted through the strands, combing until all the pins were gone and her hair hung in a waterfall down her back.

He reached for his mask, but she stopped him. His hand stilled beneath hers, a question in his eyes.

“Leave it.”

She wanted the masks tonight. She wanted the anonymity they provided and the safety to be and do whatever she wanted without the niggling voice in the back of her head that said she would regret this. Yes, the cover was a ruse and they both knew it, but she needed it.

Without it she wouldn’t have the strength to break her own rules.

“All right. If you’ll leave these on,” he countered, running a finger down the inside of her thigh to the band of lace circling the top of her stocking.

“Done.”

His mouth crushed to hers. He was all sweltering sin. He tasted dark and dangerous. But she opened for him anyway, letting him in. His tongue stroked hers, coaxing and teasing. He sucked, pulling her into his own mouth.

While she was distracted, he was busy disengaging each of the tiny hooks that ran up the length of her spine. The boning fell away. Willow let out a gasp of relief that he swallowed.

Blood rushed to the surface of her skin. His hands scraped down her exposed body, taking advantage of the increased sensitivity. The muscles in her stomach leaped beneath his touch.

But he wasn’t the only industrious one. Spreading the fly of his pants open, Willow went searching for what she wanted most. And she wasn’t disappointed. Hot and hard, the length of his sex pressed eagerly against her palm.

Talented fingers tugged at her distended nipples. He rolled them, making her ache, and then his thumbs feathered lightly across the sensitive peaks. Willow clenched her thighs together, trying to find some relief, but there wasn’t any. At least, none without him.

The need for him spiraled out of control. She shoved his pants to the floor and resented the time it took for him to step out of them because that meant he wasn’t touching her.

She bit his shoulder and he sucked in a harsh breath. In retaliation, he grasped her around the thighs, brought them close together and then pushed her backward.

The pull of gravity was exhilarating. Her entire world tipped off-center. And he was right there with her.

Silk-clad thighs slid slowly up his ribs. Dev settled heavily against the V of her open legs. He felt so good there.

His mouth found her breast and he sucked. The moist heat of him had her arching off the bed.

The rip of fabric tore through the room. A cool gust of air touched her sex. She didn’t care. If it meant he’d touch her then he could ruin every last pair of panties she owned. Hell, she’d sew more.

And then he found her. His fingers slipped through her sex, diving deep. She groaned with the bliss of his touch. He found her hidden spot and stroked. Over and over, until she was delirious with the need for more.

Her hands played mindlessly across his body, the pleasure of touching him increasing her own. He was solid and real. Hers to enjoy. Her mouth rained down kisses on every inch of skin she could reach.

Blindly, she fumbled in the bedside table for the box she kept there, not that she needed it often. Grabbing a condom, she used her teeth to open it and then rolled the tight latex over his pulsing hardness.

She wanted him inside her. Now.

Understanding her unspoken urgency, Dev gave her exactly what she wanted. Rearing back, he brought them together, positioning the swollen head of his erection at the aching opening of her sex.

Slowly, he pushed inside, letting her take him inch by inch. He stretched and filled her. His breath came in short gasps as he slid all the way home. His body trembled. She could feel the tremor straight to her center.

He was everywhere. Surrounding her. Over her. Deep inside. His hips flexed against her, drawing a moan and giving her just a little more.

And then he was moving. With slow, deliberate strokes, he pulled out and then thrust back again. Her hips pumped in time with his. He drove her crazy, bringing her to the brink only to push inside and stay there, motionless, while she writhed.

Every muscle in her body was wound tight. Every nerve ending quivered, waiting for the moment when her world would finally break apart.

When it came, the release hit with a force she’d never experienced before. Was it Dev, or was it the edge of danger? She didn’t know and didn’t care. Everything went black, the tiny bursts of color across her eyelids the only thing in her universe. That and the spot where they joined. The relentless waves of satisfaction.

The frenzy of his release pierced the fog. He thrust into her, his entire body bowing back with tension right before the snap. And then he was calling her name, a guttural groan that echoed deep inside her.

Watching him let go was beautiful, and she wished she’d let him take off the mask so she could see more. See all of him. Before, it had felt right, the barrier she’d kept in place. Now, after what they’d just shared, it felt wrong to have anything between them.

Her body pulsed. Pleasure and something more fizzled through her veins. He collapsed beside her. Willow’s body quivered, a spent mess.

Their legs tangled together, but she was too drained to try to unravel the knot. His arm, draped across her waist, tightened to pull her closer.

“You are definitely no angel.”

* * *

HE WAS IN serious trouble.

Dev stared down at Willow as she slept. He couldn’t settle. His conscience wouldn’t let him. What had he done?

She was going to be pissed when she realized who he was. And, really, he wouldn’t blame her. But the moment he’d followed her inside...he’d been lost.

The sight of her standing in the dark hallway, moonlight falling across her pale skin and those wings...he’d had to touch. And once his fingers slipped across her smooth skin he couldn’t stop.

When she’d told him to keep the masks on he’d been relieved...and guilty as hell. He knew, without a doubt, that the moment she saw his face that would be the end of it. And he’d waited to touch her for so long.

But that didn’t change the fact that he’d royally screwed up. It had been a very long time since he’d let his dick do his thinking. Damn thing tended to get him into serious trouble. The question was, how to fix this? If that was even possible.

With a sigh, Willow rolled onto her side. The skin between her eyes crinkled. Then she burrowed into his prostrate body and her entire face smoothed out into sleepy contentment.

Oh, yeah, he was in deep shit.

Her shocking-red hair spread across the pillow. Staring down at her, Dev was careful not to pull as he threaded his fingers through it. He wanted to know what it would look like without the artificial color. His memory of her told him it should be a deep, rich brown that reminded him of fertile, fresh-tilled soil.

She smelled so good. Pressing his nose close to the exposed crook of her neck, he breathed her in. Something soft, sweet and subtle, like honeysuckle on a perfect summer morning.

He wanted more.

And that was really the crux of the problem. One night with her wasn’t enough. But when she realized who he was...

The thought of that conversation had dread tightening his gut.

He had two choices. He could leave now and avoid the issue all together. Play this off as the one-night stand she probably thought she’d just had. But that really wasn’t going to work for him. Not only did he not want to leave, but he couldn’t avoid the confrontation.

Eventually she was going to see him in town and realize who she’d had amazing sex with.

Or he could stay. Brazen it out and try to convince her that he hadn’t set out to take advantage of her. That screwing her hadn’t been about revenge, but heat and long-denied attraction.

Sliding down, he tucked her body tighter, enjoying the way she fit perfectly against him. Her hair was still clutched in his fist, an unconscious attempt to hold on to what he fully expected to lose.

Had she dyed it for the costume or did she keep it red all the time? He hoped it was temporary. It didn’t suit her. At all. Not that it was bad...it just wasn’t Willow. Or at least, the Willow he remembered.

Although why he thought he understood her at all he didn’t know. Ten years was a long time. He was proof of that. Look at how different he was from the rebellious and angry boy he’d been.

God, he’d been a prick when he’d moved to Sweetheart, defiantly wearing the label on his sleeve. Consumed with pain he didn’t want anyone to see. His mom, a drug addict who’d only cared about her next fix, had died from an overdose. He’d been the one to find her pale body, lifeless and cold. And even if she’d been a shitty mother...she’d been his. And it had hurt.

Everyone looked at him and judged. The other kids he went to school with. The teachers who should have been a source of knowledge and help, but were too busy to notice he was lost. Although, it really hadn’t been their fault. It wasn’t like he was ever around long enough for anyone to put the pieces together.

Dev had lost count how many times his family had been evicted because neither parent could hold a job or bother to pay rent. Moving from place to place meant school to school. After his dad went to jail there’d been several months he hadn’t bothered going to class at all. And no one had noticed.

Before Sweetheart he’d never really had a home. A roof over his head, sure. Not a home. But his grandfather had given him one...at least for a little while.

No matter how long he’d lived there, he’d never quite let himself relax. Five years in one place was unheard of for him. And he just kept waiting for it to end. It was almost a relief, when the look in his grandfather’s eyes changed from exasperated love to enraged disappointment and the fairy tale was finally over.

Once again, everyone had judged him, looking for the worst and finding only what they expected.

But they’d all been wrong. Sure, he’d floundered for a few months trying to find a way through the mess he’d landed in. Who would have known that picking up an odd job on a construction site could change his life so drastically? He’d never forget the man who’d given him a chance and seen beneath the grimy exterior to the potential lurking deep inside.

He’d gone back to school, finished his degree, and started Devlin Landscaping & Design. At any given time he had hundreds of people working for him all over the country.

Willow had lived in the world he’d wanted desperately to be a part of, but couldn’t quite believe he had the right to. She’d been different. Or so he’d thought. But in the end, she’d pushed him away just like his grandfather, easily believing the lies.

Once he might have known the sound of her laughter and the way her eyes darkened when she was angry, but that obviously wasn’t enough.

He should probably feel remorse for what he’d just done, but he couldn’t muster up the emotion. It would mean he regretted tonight, and he didn’t. Maybe he would later, when the piper had to be paid, but for the moment the satisfaction was too close to the surface.

Trouble would find him soon enough, anyway. It always did. Besides, with her naked body pressed close he wanted another taste. There was no point asking for absolution if he fully intended to sin again.

He hadn’t gone to that party with the intention of picking someone up. Considering what had happened, sleeping with anyone his first day back in Sweetheart was probably the worst decision he could have made. The fact that it had been Willow just compounded the stupidity.

She really was nothing like her sister, which was a good thing. Rose had been provoking and selfish, caring about no one but herself. Willow was soft and quiet. Giving. Reserved, even if tonight she had wanted to pretend she was daring.

But, God, beneath all the polished restraint she was passionate. And nothing like the women he normally connected with.

He liked to get down and dirty, in his job, in bed and in general. Life was too short and too much shit happened. Shit that no one could predict or control.

So tonight he was going to enjoy the moment. Tomorrow would be soon enough to deal with the rest.

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