Make Me Scream. P.J. Mellor
going on in the corner.
Although he told himself not to look, Devon’s gaze kept drifting over to the couple.
While Devon’s attention had shifted, Grant had removed Mindy’s top. It was almost like Grant wanted an audience, the way he had her stretched out over his lap, legs spread while he played with her pussy and leaned over her shoulder to suck her obviously augmented tits.
Beneath Devon’s shorts, his cock twitched against his zipper, wanting to come out and play.
Grant stretched Mindy’s nipple, clenched in his teeth, when he looked up and across the fire, directly at Devon.
Grant’s teeth showed white in the semidarkness. He smiled, never relinquishing the nipple, then shifted, spreading his date wider as though giving a better view.
The obliging Mindy arched sideways, encouraging Grant to take her nipple deeper into his mouth while he spread her legs to rest on each arm of the patio chair. Her nether lips parted, exposing her shining cherry-red folds. He reached around her to grasp her gaping lips in both hands and pull them so far apart Devon wondered if Grant was hurting her.
Evidently not, since her giggles drifted over the conversation.
Devon watched with rapt attention as Grant manipulated Mindy’s genitals, rubbing, pulling, flicking and finally slapping. To Devon’s fascinated surprise, the girl only whispered things to Grant, spreading her legs impossibly wider and occasionally giggling.
She slid off his lap. Devon noticed sometime during their sex play that Grant had released his erection from his basketball shorts. Mindy straddled his legs, bent almost double in order to take him in her mouth. While she went down on him, Grant somehow managed to reach through her legs and play with her clit.
Although turned on by his latent foray into voyeurism, Devon wondered how she could bend like that.
He must have looked away because when he looked back he saw that Mindy had climbed back onto Grant’s lap. She now faced forward, her breasts jiggling slightly with each thrust of Grant’s hips. Grant pushed on her back, causing her to practically lay on her stomach on his legs, her breasts hanging over his knees while he continued to pound into her.
Todd walked across Devon’s line of vision, talking in low tones to Grant.
Mindy did something, but Todd was in the way, so Devon couldn’t see.
Damn. Reality hit Devon.
As the manager, he should put a stop to it. If the other tenants saw what was going on, they gave no indication. Francyne was holed up in her apartment, no doubt dozing in front of the TV by now. But what about Jamie? If she was embarrassed by what they’d done behind closed doors, what would she think about what was going on in the courtyard?
From her front window, Jamie peeked through the curtain to watch the group of men by the fire. Her gaze kept drifting back to Devon. Firelight bathed him in a warm, intimate glow. Though definitely not the most handsome man at the gathering, he was easily the most fascinating.
She watched the play of light on his face as he lifted his beer bottle, the ripple of his throat when he swallowed. What was it about him that called to her?
And what held his attention so thoroughly?
She edged closer to the side of the window. What on earth…oh, my!
Beyond the fire, a man and woman were clearly having sex. Darn. Another guy walked up, blocking her view.
Dropping the curtain, she leaned against the wall and fanned her face and then put her hand over her mouth to stifle the giggle.
She lifted the curtain for another peek. The guy blocking her sure had a great butt, she’d give him that. Under normal circumstances, she’d have enjoyed the view. But right now, he was spoiling hers.
Thoughts of herself in a similar position as the woman in the courtyard shot heat through her, tingling her nerve endings. Fanning away the blush, she tried to conjure up the scene in her mind. But the only man she could imagine doing such intimate things with—and enjoying them so much—was, strangely, Devon. And that was, well, dumb.
She snuck another peek. Would Devon be turned on from what he saw? Would he want to come back to finish what they’d started? More importantly, did she want him to?
She ran her hands over her chest and pushed up her new, impressive cleavage. Would her ex-boyfriend, Fred, or anyone for that matter, even recognize her now?
The image of a stranger stared back at her from the old mirror on the back of the door. She was still in there somewhere. She had to hide for just a while longer.
Flipping on the bathroom light, she leaned close to the mirror to inspect her hair for dark roots. The last highlight job had taken care of most of them, but if she looked close, she could see tiny traces of her once auburn hair.
She pulled her makeup kit from her shoulder bag and rummaged until she found her contact case. The blue contacts folded into the case until she squirted the disinfectant into the little pods and closed the lids. The little bar of soap would have to do for now. She dried her face on the threadbare washcloth she’d found under the sink and then stared at the mirror.
Pale green eyes stared back at her.
“Now you look more like you,” she told her reflection. Turning on her heel, she strode to the bedroom and pulled a nightshirt from her suitcase and then reached into her bra and pulled out the flesh-colored gel sacks, tossing them into their storage box.
It itched where the latex had rested against her breasts, so she hopped into the shower. She could always drip dry. A laugh escaped her. Heck, she could even sleep in the nude now if she wanted to. No one was around to stop her.
Humming, she lathered with the little sliver of soap and rinsed off.
Through the haze of steam, she exited the bathroom only to walk naked into a hard chest.
She screamed and staggered back. Strong hands shot out to steady her.
“I’m sorry!” Devon’s voice sounded strangled. “I knocked. When no one answered, I let myself in to leave the sheets and towels, with the pillows and stuff.” He pointed to a pile of linens on the bed. “Then I heard the shower and thought I’d reach in and leave a towel for you to dry off on.” He shrugged and swallowed. “Then…there you were. Are.” His gaze did a slow track down her nude body. At least, she thought it did. Without glasses or contacts, it was kind of hard to tell. Wait. Naked. She was naked.
Belated modesty washed over her, and she hopped behind the partially open bathroom door. “That still gave you no right to come into my apartment, my apartment, uninvited!”
“I know. I’m sorry. I guess I wasn’t thinking.” He turned his back. “If you want to dry off and get dressed, I won’t look.”
“Darn right you won’t look! Get out of here!”
“I—I can’t. I need to talk to you about something. It can’t wait.” Pause. “After you get dressed, I can help you make the bed while we talk.”
Shoot. If he stuck around, he’d see her. The real her. She looked longingly at the bed.
“Turn off the light.” Maybe if they made the bed in the dark, he wouldn’t notice the discrepancy in her appearance.
“Why? It would make putting on the sheets kind of difficult.”
“Um, I don’t like to be seen without my makeup.”
He sighed. “You may not believe this, but I really don’t care about your makeup. Jamie, I’m tired, and I still have a lot of work to do tonight. I know you must be tired, too. Just throw on some clothes and come out here so we can get your bed made. Then I’ll leave and you can get some sleep. I promise,” he added.
When she didn’t answer, he ran his hands through his hair in a gesture she was already coming to recognize and said, “Fine. Stay there.