Make Me Scream. P.J. Mellor
the living room. “Where would you like me to put it—the suitcase. I’m talking about the suitcase. Where would you like me to put the suitcase?”
She walked closer and peered into his eyes. “Devon, are you sure you’re okay? You’re kind of flushed.” Her cool hand singed his forehead. “And, no offense, but you’re kind of babbling.”
She was close enough to kiss. The lightbulb from the daisy lamp did marvelous things to her skin.
He wanted to lick it. Lick her. All over.
Great. Now he was babbling to himself, too.
Would she freak if he pulled her into his arms and tried to kiss her?
“No,” she said and stepped back. “I wouldn’t freak, but I don’t want you to try it.”
Shit. He must have said it out loud.
“Yes, you did.”
Damn! He did it again.
She eased the suitcase from his fist. “Thanks for bringing my suitcase. I think it’s time for you to leave.”
He swallowed, the feel of his Adam’s apple dragging down his throat like a tennis ball. “I’m sorry,” he said in a low voice. “I don’t usually act like this. You’re just so cute and, well, hot, and it was all I could think of when I looked at you standing there. I mean—”
“Oh, for goodness’ sake!” She grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him flush against her awe-inspiring chest. “Just kiss me and get it over with so we can both get some sleep!”
Get it over with? Did she really think one kiss would do it and they would go on their merry way?
He gazed down into her big blue eyes. No. Fucking. Way. If he kissed her—and he fully intended to do so—it was going to be a kiss to remember. Legendary. A kiss to curl her toes. Hell, it may even be a kiss to make her come in her pretty little silk panties.
He damned well was going to give it his best shot.
His stomach clenched, his palms sweated. He fumbled in the pocket of his shorts until he found what he sought.
Sssst! The calming mint of his breath spray gave him the burst of freshness and courage he needed.
Against his chest, Jamie’s breasts jiggled with her laugh.
“Don’t laugh, woman,” he said in the sternest voice he could muster. “Good oral hygiene is important.”
Her smile faltered. “In that case, give me a blast.” She opened her mouth, the sight of her pink tongue and inner cheeks making her seem vulnerable.
After spraying her delectable mouth, he set the dispenser on the table and pulled her back into his arms.
“Ready?”
A slow smile curved her lips. “Yes, I think I am.”
A breath away from her mouth, he traced her lips with the tip of his tongue, encouraged by the way her breath hitched. Her lip gloss tasted faintly sweet. He closed his teeth on her plump lower lip and held it gently while he ran his tongue back and forth across it.
She pressed closer, her breasts flattened against his chest, her breathing becoming shallow.
He released her lip and made full contact, rubbing his mouth against hers. As he’d hoped, she opened for him.
Sweet. She tasted as sweet as she looked. And refreshingly minty. Oh, wait, that was the breath spray.
A sound escaped from deep in her throat, and he deepened the kiss.
Behind his zipper, his cock did a desperate dance. He tried to put some distance between it and Jamie’s abdomen, but her hands at his hips stopped his effort.
Something warm and delicious blossomed within Jamie. Wow. Devon certainly knew how to kiss. Her bones felt liquid. She had to lock her knees if she wanted to remain upright. And she did. Fred had made her wary. She wasn’t about to fall into bed with the first guy who turned her on. Been there, done that.
The kiss went on, drugging her with its passion, seducing her with its promise. Mild surprise registered when Devon cupped her bottom and pulled her closer.
She should stop, break the kiss. But it had been so long since she’d felt anything even remotely close to desire or passion, and it felt so good, so right. Okay, she was selfish. She was using Devon.
She wasn’t ready for the kiss to end.
He pulled her closer, blurring her thoughts with the feel of his erection pushing against her, making her moist, needy.
She squirmed against him, blindly seeking what his hardness offered. Would it be so bad to take a chance?
Devon slid his left hand around and down to the edge of Jamie’s short skirt, encouraged when she did nothing to stop him.
The smooth silkiness of her thigh made him weak in the knees. Up, up, up his hand inched. He paused to play with the incredible softness of her inner thigh, drawing patterns on her flesh.
She shifted, giving him greater access.
At the edge of her damp panty, he traced the leg opening with the tip of his finger, holding his breath in anticipation of her shoving him away.
Instead, she widened her stance. His cock leaped for joy. Maybe his dry spell was finally coming to an end.
He dipped his finger beneath the elastic and probed her wet heat.
Someone groaned. Maybe him.
Her hot hand gripped his wrist. But instead of pulling his hand away, she pushed it deeper between her legs, along her velvety folds.
She whimpered, pressing down on his hand.
After playing with her slick folds a moment, he inserted his fingertip.
Jamie went wild, coming down on his hand until his entire finger was deeply embedded, then riding him. Hard.
Her excitement was palpable. His hips began a rhythmic arching between his arm and Jamie’s leg, his penis begging for more.
Her back arched, her breath caught. Internal muscles clenched, drawing his finger deeper still while her moisture drenched his hand.
Before he could assimilate her actions, much less drop his pants and bury himself in her, she pulled away from him, straightening her skirt, eyes wide.
“I’m sorry!” Her voice was breathy, like a woman who’d just climaxed. Which she had. Splendidly. “Please. Don’t say anything. Just go. I’m so embarrassed!”
Resisting the need to rearrange himself, Devon strode to the door, not stopping until he stood on the other side.
4
Still in mourning for his nonexistent sex life, Devon made the beer run.
The party around the pit was getting rowdy. Grant, the mysterious guy from upstairs, was in Devon’s chair with a girl when he returned with the beer.
“This is Mindy,” Grant said as Devon walked up. Their eyes met. “Did we take your seat?” He stood, lifting Mindy high in his arms, treating everyone to a view of her smooth little ass and the strip of fabric separating the firm globes.
Which was probably exactly what Grant had planned, Devon thought, when Grant casually tweaked Mindy’s nipple through her cropped-off tank top, eliciting a giggle.
She, obviously, was not the shy type.
Grant strolled to a chair in the darkened corner behind the fire and sat down.
Devon took a draw from his beer, watching over the bottle as Grant reached beneath his date’s skirt and pulled off her thong.
Devon glanced around at the other tenants who were engrossed in conversation. He had no idea what they were talking