Intimate Illusions [The Callens 6] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) (16 page)

His hands cupped her rear and pressed on her ass, driving the wedge in deeper. Tingles shot up her spine at the added stimulation.

“Wrap your legs around me.”

“Standing up?”

His lids lowered, and his lips parted. He lifted her rear up as high as his waist, and she did as he asked. Hooking her legs, she pressed her hips against his cock. Since their lips were at the same height, she took advantage and kissed him again. He softened the kiss, and when he leaned his head back for a moment, their lips clung to each other. The tentative connection nearly stole her breath.

Wanting to take a bit more control, she went on the attack and delved into his mouth. He was all man and pure sex. A powerful need to possess him washed over her. Their tongues dipped and darted, daring each other with their thrusts. Her fingers held onto his bunching shoulders as she rocked her wet pussy against his cock.

“I want you.” To prove her point, she slid up and down his length.

He groaned and reached below her. In one quick move, he lifted his cock off his stomach and replaced the tip into her opening. Her pussy swelled in anticipation. Since she had the advantage, she slid downward onto his full length. A world of sparks crawled up her channel. The tightness registered. With the plug in her ass, there was no room to move. Her fingers dug into his skin as she urged her muscles to relax.

Once she regained her balance, she lifted up slowly. Instead of dropping down hard, she teased the tip of his cock. He moaned. Her nipples tightened as she rubbed against the hard plains of his chest.

“You witch.”

That was high praise indeed. This time when she enveloped his cock, she squeezed tight, milking him with all her might.

His lips latched onto her neck, and his suck turned into a kiss. He moved his head up her neck and captured her earlobe with his teeth. As he tugged harder, the pulses tripped down over her tips straight to her pussy. She plastered her breasts to his chest and dropped back her head.

“Oh, yes. I love your cock.”

He growled. She pumped. He kissed.

The moment her hands found the back of his head, she tightened her hold. Whorls of ecstasy radiated from inside her. Heat licked flames up her ass with each movement. She’d tense and release just for the sensation of driving the glass cock further into her. She closed her eyes and pictured Max in her ass and Ian in her pussy. The image was a drug, leading her to the future.

Max’s passion poured out of him and into her heart. The love matched nothing she’d ever experienced. He was her breath. And she wanted him in her life.

He took hold of her hips and held her steady.

“I need you.” His voice quivered, and then he blew away her mind.

As he pumped into her, his tantalizing kiss wreaked havoc to her soul. Her wild need and heightened desire overshadowed all thought as his cock expanded inside her. Molten yearnings filled her as her pending climax rose. His eyes closed, and his mouth opened. He drove into her as if to stop would be to die.

She dropped her head forward and sucked in a huge breath as her orgasm threatened to rain down on her. Electric sparks exploded inside as the blood pounded in her head.

“Max! Yes!” Her primal call reverberated off the walls as his final plunge sent her over the edge. Her climax eclipsed all others.

Heat pulsed from his cock as he expanded and contracted to the beat of his rapid-firing heart. His climax kept going. Out of breath, she clasped him tight for fear of losing him. He rubbed her back as he slowly regained his composure.

She couldn’t move, so he walked her over to the bed and gently lowered her. She unwrapped her legs and let them fall to the floor. Without a word, he disappeared into her bathroom and returned with a wet towel to clean her.

“I’m not sure I’m ever going to get up again.” She wasn’t exaggerating.

“I thought we had a thief to capture.”

“Oh, yeah.” Right now that was the furthest thing from her mind.

“You sure you don’t want to go in and speak with your manager?” Max still didn’t have a handle on how this was going to go down.

He told Devonne there was no way he’d let her confront the driver of the delivery truck. Men who stole had guns. Guns killed. If he’d had his weapons, he’d settle this the Wyoming way.

“No. If Heather knows I’m in town, she might say something to the driver.”

“You’re convinced he’s guilty?” She had no proof of anything.

“No, but that’s why we’re here.”

She’d looked up the delivery schedule. The truck was supposed to arrive around 2:00 p.m. at the back of the store. The problem was where to park. One positive was that they were in his rental instead of her red BMW. He drove down the back alley three times before someone pulled out of a spot. He parked as far away as possible so Devonne would be out of danger.

“Keep your phone out and your finger on 911 in case something bad happens.”

“I’m the one who should be videotaping this. I might be able to recognize the person.”

There was no way in hell he’d put her in danger. “This may be Los Angeles, but I’m betting there aren’t too many angels about. Please, for me, keep the door locked. You can see the unloading from here.”

She opened her mouth but quickly shut it. Devonne might have a stubborn streak, but she also was smart.

“Fine. But don’t get too close.”

“Sit in the driver’s seat and get the hell out if anything bad happens.”

“I’d die if you get hurt.”

“I won’t.”

He kissed her good-bye and, with the Flip camera in hand, eased his way down the street. Halfway down the block he looked back and couldn’t even see her head from the back window. Good. She was hiding.

Positioning himself behind another van, he waited for the delivery truck to arrive. He didn’t mind doing whatever it took to make Devonne happy, but the stench coming from the Dumpsters churned his stomach. At least it wasn’t blistering hot.

While he waited, he repeatedly glanced at his rental to make sure no one questioned why a beautiful woman was sitting in a car alone. Anyone could come by and hassle her. He prayed she’d be willing to take off and leave him if she sensed danger.

The rumbling of a truck sharpened his senses. He turned on the video camera and got ready to shoot the evidence. Hidden behind the van, he didn’t think he’d be noticed. If the owner of the van came out and caught him, he might have to wait for another time. There were no other vehicles to hide behind.

The truck pulled up to the back entrance of the store. Instead of him going inside right away, a tall woman with blonde, spiky hair came out and planted a kiss on the guy. His gut soured, hoping this wasn’t Devonne’s trusted manager, Heather. If her good friend betrayed her, the hurt would cut her deeply.

The beefy-looking man opened the back and took out a handcart. He loaded three boxes onto it and headed into the store while leaving the back open. Maybe that was how the thefts occurred. He scoured the streets looking for someone who might be lingering, but no one else was outside. Taking a deep breath, he waited until the man emerged from the back. Again, the spiky-haired blonde accompanied him. Once more the van driver loaded his dolly with three large boxes. As he pushed the cart forward, the blonde stopped him. She tapped the second box.
Damn
. He wished he’d been able to get closer so he could hear the conversation. The man removed the box and placed it back inside the truck. That was an interesting turn of events. Perhaps that box hadn’t been one she’d ordered.

Thinking there was more to this gig, he kept watch. Three more times out of seven, the blonde would have the man return a box. When the guy closed the back of the truck, he hugged and kissed the woman good-bye. Max turned off the camera, crossed the street, and walked away from the store and toward Devonne.

He tapped the driver’s side window. She unlocked the door. “Change positions. I’m driving.”

She got out and rushed to the other side. Once she was seated, she looked over at him. He started the engine, determined to see if the man would return the boxes to the warehouse or someplace else.

“That was Heather with her boyfriend, Craig.” From the way her voice wavered, this wasn’t good.

“What you do think is happening?” He had a guess, but he wanted confirmation.

“She knows about the theft, damn her. What are we going to do?”

“Follow him.”

Devonne leaned back and said nothing more. Her mind must have been racing. He waited for the delivery truck to pass, and then he did a U-turn. Not wanting to be too obvious, he let another car get between them.

“He’s heading out of the main shopping district.”

That signified nothing to him. He dug into his pocket and handed her the camera. “Just in case we need more documentation, have it ready.”

She sat up, seemingly bolstered by her ability to do something useful. “He turned right onto Waring Avenue.”

Max followed. The smaller streets had less traffic than the main thoroughfare.

She leaned forward. “If he’s going back to the warehouse, he’ll take a left in two streets.”

He wasn’t sure what he wanted the guy to do. When the driver didn’t take the left hand turn, Devonne clasped the camera tight.

The truck continued going east for another mile then made a right down a back alley. Max continued for another block until he found a place to park. He lifted the camera from her hands. “You know the rules.”

“Hurry.”

The fact she didn’t argue implied this might get dangerous. He trotted back to the street. The delivery truck was parked in front of a store called Cheap Designs. Forcing his breath to calm, he crossed the street to where a car was parked. As soon as the deliveryman went into the store, Max hid behind the car. Once more he was thankful no one was around to ask him questions. Camera ready, he kept the lens focused on the front door. The driver returned with the cart and loaded up two boxes, the same boxes that were supposed to go to Devonne’s store. When he believed he had enough evidence, he stood and casually walked back to his car.

He slipped in. Devonne’s hands were woven together. “So.”

“Have you ever heard of a store called Cheap Designs?”

“No.”

“The driver delivered your five boxes there.”

“Damn.”

He didn’t want her to jump to any conclusions. “Perhaps the boxes truly weren’t meant for your boutique.”

“We’ll see. Can we go back to the store? It’s time Heather and I had a talk.”

“Okay, but I don’t think it would be wise to tell her we videotaped everything. If you find out you were shorted five boxes, we need to go to the police.”

She covered his hand with hers. “Can you wait a minute? I want to go into Cheap Designs to find out who owns this store.”

“I’m coming with you.”

She smiled, the first one he’d seen today. “You might have to do some playacting and help me pick out a dress.”

“As long as I get to take off said dress at the end of the day, I can be the best damned actor you’ve ever seen.”

She leaned over and kissed him. “Did I ever tell you that I adore you?”

“Yes, but I’m a show rather than tell type of guy.”

“Aren’t you, though?” She smiled and stepped out of the car. “I may have to make some stuff up, so go along with me.”

He’d do whatever it took to make her happy. With an arm secure around her waist, they entered the store. He’d never been in a woman’s boutique before, but he didn’t expect it to be so crowded.

Devonne scanned the racks and walked over to the one labeled Discount Designer Designs. She pushed open the dresses and lifted one from the rack. She looked at the label. “This can’t be,” she whispered. When she saw the price tag, she slammed the dress back onto the rack.

He leaned over. “What?”

“It’s the same dresses that I order. I pay over five hundred dollars for one dress, and yet this place is selling it for three hundred.”

“Maybe they’re knockoffs.”

“No. I’m trained to spot a fake.” She grabbed his hand and strode over to the counter.

They waited in line until it was her turn. “I’d like to speak with the manager.” Max was impressed with the professional tone.

The young girl with multicolored hair looked around. “She’s not here.”

“Then who is in charge today?”

“That would be Paul.” The girl nodded to a too-thin man speaking on the phone.

Devonne smiled sweetly and headed toward the man. Once more, she patiently waited until he finished his conversation.

The man faced her. “May I help you?”

“I hope so. I’m Elizabeth Watterson.” His eyes widened as if he’d heard the name. “I have a line of clothing that I’d love to have you sell here.”

“Oh, my. Of course, Ms. Watterson. I love your jersey collection.” He held out his hand. “I’m Paul Winthrop.”

Devonne glanced around. “I have to admit that I’ve not been in here before, but I’m impressed with your selection of clothing.”