the coffee table, took my beer from my hands, and reached for me.
“You’re hot.”
I regarded the not-sexy ensemble of my server’s uniform: a pressed white shirt and black pants. “You’re drunk.”
“Just a little.” He cupped the back of my neck and pulled my lips to his. I let him, enjoying the warm firmness of his mouth.
One bourbon-flavored kiss later, he let me go. “Not fair.”
“What’s not fair?”
He closed his eyes and dropped his forehead onto mine, his thumb brushing my cheek. “All I want to do is kiss you.” Abruptly, he pulled away from me. “And then fold you over the kitchen counter. Take you in the shower. Lay you down on that rug.”
My chest rose and fell with each quickening breath. I wanted that, too. All of it.
“Sounds fair to me,” I croaked.
“You don’t want me, Rena.” He shook his head, his mouth pulling at the corners.
“Au contraire, Devlin.” I unbuttoned a button on my shirt and his eyes zoomed in on my fingers. Then I unbuttoned another, and one after that. When I revealed a beige cotton bra, his focus sharpened, his eyes zooming in on my chest. “This making you feel better?”
He answered by leaning forward and setting his lips to my neck. Nipping and licking, he traveled up the side of my throat, leaving my skin damp. I arched to give him better access, goose bumps popping up on my arms. He slipped my bra straps from my shoulders, took one breast in his hot mouth and then the other. As he suckled my nipple his fingers traveled to the button of my pants.
My mind blanked, my body shrouded in the gauzy haze of lust. He was as lost as I was, every breath coming faster and shorter. Low moans of pleasure came from his throat as I stripped him of his sweater and pants. As we kicked off our shoes.
We didn’t make it to the rug. He rolled me to my back on the couch and then rolled on a condom. His hands tightened on my hips as he slid to the hilt, and then entered me over and over. Arms overhead, I braced myself on the arm of the couch, each thrust rutting me deeper into the leather. I cried out when I came, holding onto him with a vise grip as his release took him. His face pinched, his teeth clamped. He was a beautiful, devastating mess. A second later, he collapsed onto me, his weight heavy.
“That,” he said against my ear. “That was what I needed.”
“Me, too,” I agreed with a smile.
My hands were in his hair, his cheek against my shoulder as he dragged his thumb along the underside of my breast. I shuddered. He lazily toyed with my nipple, and my hips rose. I tugged his hair, twining my fingers into the silky strands. My pulse pounded between my legs. I wanted him again. Already.
“I have a brother.” That snapped me back to the present with a sudden sting. I’d been so focused on his talented fingers, I didn’t think I’d heard him right.
“And you didn’t… before today?” I half joked.
“Yes, but I didn’t know about him.” He sat up, tugging his jeans over his legs as he went. I admired the curve of his butt and the pair of dimples at his lower back. He grabbed his glass and offered me my beer.
I shook my head.
“I’m not drinking alone, and I’m not going to cry on your shoulder.”
Fury danced in his eyes. This was the Devlin I was more familiar with. I took the beer but I didn’t drink it. He kept his eyes on me while he downed an inch of the amber liquor, then seemed to debate.
“Fuck it,” he said. “Let’s tell all our shit.” He pointed at me with his glass. “Worst thing you’ve ever done in your life.”
My eyes widened. I busied myself propping my back against the arm of the sofa and tugging a blanket from the back of it and covering my naked body. Stalling.
“What’d you do, Rena?” he asked. “Steal paperclips from work? Tell a friend you didn’t like her haircut?”
He was being mean. So I told him the cold, hard truth. “I killed my boyfriend when I was eighteen years old.”
His dark eyebrows shot for his hairline, his throat worked as he swallowed. “Holy shit. Am I in trouble?”
I had to smile. “It was my fault he died.”
“Damn. Guess you win that round.” Devlin clinked his glass against my bottle in