Live for Me (14 page)

Needles rained to the hardwood and the scent of pine filled the air. It felt completely bizarre to have two total strangers standing in the family room assembling a tree. I wanted them gone so I could stand back and appreciate having my own Christmas tree. Mine. Ours. Devin might have arranged it and paid for it, but it was
our
tree. Though I knew that had been his intention.

“Thank you,” I told the guy as he stepped back to assess the position of the tree.

He smiled at me. He was in his forties. “You’re welcome. I told your father you need a high ceiling for a fir tree like this one, but clearly this room fits the bill.”

My father? Nice. That was the last thing Devin needed to hear someone say. It would just raise his doubts all over again. I managed a tight smile. “Yeah, it really does. It’s going to be beautiful.”

Devin either didn’t hear or he was determined not to acknowledge what the guy said. He just signed some papers and escorted them both to the front door which he slammed shut after them.

“I don’t look like your father,” he said, striding back into the room as I was taking a lid off one of the containers. He sounded more angry than embarrassed.

“No. You don’t,” I said calmly. “But I called you G Daddy. He just heard the ‘daddy’ part. You’re older than me. Don’t take it personally.” People made assumptions. Enormous and erroneous ones. Like even my best friend, who couldn’t believe that Devin’s interest in me could be normal. To her it was deviant that he would like me, and that stung.

Even though I knew if the roles were reversed I would be saying the same thing. I wanted her to trust me. To trust that I knew Devin. That I knew what I was doing.

“So maybe you shouldn’t call me Daddy anymore.”

“No problem. It doesn’t really feel right. It doesn’t seem like you to me.” I didn’t want to make it a bigger issue than it should be, so I left it at that. I picked through the box. All the ornaments were natural materials, with a woodland theme. Very Maine.

“It is me,” he said shortly.

Wow. He was in a charming mood. “Did you pick this theme?” I asked. “I love it.”

“I wanted an owl theme.” He leaned over the box and startled me by kissing me, a soft worshipful kiss. “They do remind me of you, like I told you. Wise and always watching.”

Both the kiss and the compliment loosened me up. It felt so natural, so easy for him to kiss me. I smiled up at him. “Thanks. This was very sweet of you.”

“I have my moments.” He tapped my arm. “Take your coat off. Stay awhile.”

“I’d love to.” Those words had more weight than I intended. I was on my knees on the rug. He was bent over and at my words his movements were arrested.

Devin ran a finger down over my cheek. “Good,” he said, roughly.

He moved over to survey the tree.

“So how do we do this?” I asked, taking my hat and jacket off. I lifted a fluffy white owl ornament out of the box.

“You could look it up online,” he said, teasing. “Or you could just put ornaments wherever you want and see what happens.”

“You’re very funny.” The tree was already lit, plugged in by Tree Guy. The soft white lights glowed in the dark room.

“I know.” He bent over, snagged a pinecone ornament and put it in some random spot.

I followed his example and in twenty minutes we had a beautiful Christmas tree. It wouldn’t win any awards, but it had reindeer, owls, raccoons, and even a moose on it, all looking out at me in cute adoration. I felt like Snow White surrounded by my critters. “I love it,” I told him. “It’s perfect.”

“It looks a little lopsided, but I’m glad you like it. I need another glass of wine. You want anything?”

I shook my head, and sat down on the couch just to stare at the tree in wonder. My tree. Our tree. Gratitude and love were all jumbling together and making me more open and vulnerable than I’d been in a long time. I suspected my heart was in my eyes when Devin returned, not just with a glass of wine, but with a present in his hand.

“I was going to wait, but I don’t exactly have a lot of patience,” he said, handing it to me.

It was gold foil, with a red bow on top. “What is this?”

“A present, you silly woman.”

“I know that. But what is it?” It was a stupid question, but I was so in awe of the perfection of the package in my hand, and the sentiment behind it, I wasn’t sure what to do or say. We’d been moving towards something more, something intense and real, but this was different.

This was a gift. For me.

“So… I asked myself what would Tiffany want? And then I realized that you don’t
want
anything. You think in terms of what you need. So I thought maybe you needed this.” He unplucked the ribbon on top, clearly impatient with my pace. “Open it.”

I swallowed hard, suddenly afraid. What would Devin think I needed?

Popping the lid off, I had my answer. It was a set of car keys on a turquoise blue keychain with Tiffany and Co embossed on it.

“It’s Tiffany blue,” he said, reaching in and pulling the keys out and holding them up for me. “And so is the jeep. I had to pull some strings to get the color done so quickly, but it turned out really well. It will be here by next week.”

I stared at the keys as they dangled in front of me, brand new. Silver. Shiny. The leather strap of the keychain elegant. Expensive. Together, they belonged to a car. Which Devin was saying belonged to me. A jeep. That he had thought to get, to pay for, to give to me.

“For the long winters, a jeep is perfect,” he added.

“You bought me a jeep?” I asked, throat tight. My voice didn’t sound like me. I sounded husky and raw and far away.

I could count on one hand the number of times I’d received a present and each one had been special. I could describe each one in great detail. How old I’d been, where I’d been given the gift, what it had been. To the teddy bear at five, to the sweater at eight, to the coffee mug at fifteen. But this… this was incomprehensible. This was beyond a gift. This was huge.

The tears in my eyes blurred my view of him and I blinked, hard, not wanting to cry. “Why would you do that?” I asked.

Devin’s hand cupped my cheek. “Because, Tiffany Ennis, I find myself in the very uncomfortable position of having feelings for you that I don’t fully understand or welcome. It doesn’t seem like the person who has my heart in a vice should be a decade younger than me and even more solemn than me. But I’ve never met anyone like you, never met anyone I admired so much. I just wanted to give you something to show you that I appreciate who you are.”

I didn’t how what to say. Wasn’t sure I could speak. He was saying that he loved me. Between the lines, that was precisely what he was saying. That he didn’t want to, that he didn’t understand it, but that I was in his heart. The way he was in mine. I wasn’t sure that I could accept the enormity of his gift, if I could live with myself for taking something so expensive, knowing our relationship was never going to last.

But at that moment, I didn’t care. I didn’t care about anything but Devin and the way his eyes shone with affection and desire. I only cared that he had thought about me, had made phone calls and arrangements on my behalf. That I occupied space in his crowded brain. That the girl who’d spent her whole life on a rock in the middle of the ocean might matter to him.

“I don’t know how to say thank you,” I whispered. “It’s a very big gift.”

“You could just say thank you.”

“Thank you,” I murmured, wrapping my hand around his to clasp the keys. I leaned in, let my lips drift apart in invitation. I wanted him to kiss me. I wanted him.

“You’re welcome.” He kissed me softly. “It was my pleasure.”

I tried to tell myself that to Devin, the price of a car affected his bottom line the way a latte might affect mine. It wasn’t that big of a deal to him. But it was. I could see it in his eyes. In the way his hand shook slightly as he drew his thumb across my bottom lip. “Is this what you want?” he asked before kissing me deeper, his tongue teasing mine. “Really?”

The question was ludicrous. When he released me, I nodded. “Yes. It’s all I want.”

Devin took the gift box I was still holding and threw it on the floor. It tumbled a foot with a clatter that seemed loud in the quiet of the family room. But before I could comment, he did the same with the keys we were holding together. His eyes were stormy as he gathered me into his arms, his hands possessive and greedy more than gentle. The strength of his hold lifted me up off my feet onto the tips of my toes as he crushed me in a series of kisses that left me breathless, panting.

I clung to his shoulders and reveled that this was really happening. Devin was kissing me with fervor and passion and I was pretty damn sure a little bit of love. If not love, than a heady emotion that wasn’t too far away from it. When I had been kissed by my first love interest at fifteen, it had been wet and fumbling and I had kept trying, wondering when it was going to feel good, wondering if every girl out there was in fact faking her reaction to a guy. At seventeen it had been better, but what I did in the dark to myself was entirely different than what he did, and I found with guilt that I preferred flying solo.

With Devin all those experiences were eradicated. They were nothing. In fact, they’d never existed. There was no guy before Devin, not any that mattered. With my first kiss from him that morning, a new chapter of my sexuality had been started, and he inked another word with each touch, caress, kiss.

“The way you look at me,” he murmured. “It’s… powerful.”

I felt powerful and weak and overwhelmed all at once. I touched his cheek, enjoying the stimulation of his beard stubble on my fingertips. Every inch of me felt alive, electric. Eyes still trained on him, I took his hand and laced my fingers through his. Bringing our fists up together, I kissed his knuckles, one by one. “This
is
powerful. You and me.”

He made a sound in the back of his throat, then he buried his lips in my neck and kissed down my clavicle bone, tugging at my shirt with his fingers to free my skin to his touch. My eyes drifted shut as I gave in to him, head falling back. While his lips moved across my neck, his hands shifted under my shirt, finding their way up to my breasts, where he brushed across my nipples with a light, deft touch. Then he was guiding me down and before I even understood how it had happened, I was on my back on the couch, sweater off over my head.

Devin was touching me everywhere and I had no hesitation, no modesty, no embarrassment. All that mattered was him, and the hot, wet desire he was coaxing to life with his hands, his mouth, his hips lightly thrusting against me, our jeans rustling. I could feel his erection here and there, when he pushed against me, or brushed my leg, and I wanted more on an instinctive level. That deep urgent ache swelled tremulously inside me, desperate for completion. As he teased and sucked my nipple through the cotton of my bra, I spread my legs, wanting him closer, locking my ankles behind his. It felt right, easy, languid. I panted and moaned, rolling my hips when his hand cupped my sex. Pausing only to remove his shirt, he kissed me down there through my jeans and I shifted, restless, surprised at how good it felt.

Sensation flooding me, thoughts jumbled and chaotic, I undid the button on my jeans myself. He looked up at me over the length of my body, his expression fierce. I closed my eyes for a split second, not sure how to say what I wanted. Not even really sure what I wanted. Truthfully, I wanted him to show me what I needed.

“Please,” I whispered.

Tenderness came over his face. I’d never seen that expression from him, and I almost told him to stop, afraid it was too much. That I was in over my head. Devin Gold being sexy was one thing. Devin looking sweet and loving was more than I could handle. But before I could speak, he had my jeans down at my ankles. Cool air brushed over my skin and I lay in shock at how suddenly naked I was, physically and emotionally. He’d taken my panties with my jeans and there was nothing protecting me from his view. I inwardly cringed at how exposed I felt, at how I was nothing like socialites in New York.

“I don’t wax,” I said, which was stupid, because he could clearly see that. There was no point in me grooming any more than a tidying of the bikini line. It had always seemed like a colossal waste of time.

His fingers were massaging below my bellybutton, right over my pubic bone, distracting me from my anxiety. He was so close to where he should be, but so far away. And he knew it.

“I prefer you natural. Nothing else would suit you.” He kissed one hipbone, then the other.

One finger sank into my moist heat and I sucked in my breath. Then before I could protest or beg he covered me with his tongue.

I’d never felt that before, and the raw intimacy, the shivering, shuttering ecstasy, had me clamping my legs together, trapping his head between my thighs. Devin maneuvered himself further in, his hair tickling my bare skin, his arm shoving my left leg down onto the couch cushion, pinning it. He licked, he kissed, he sucked at me, and I squeezed my eyes shut, assaulted by sensation. I’d never felt anything so intense, so deep and wet and delicious. An orgasm rushed me, catching me completely off guard as it consumed my whole body with pleasure.

“Oh, my God,” I blurted, not caring that it was cliché. There was no other way to describe what the fucking hell was happening to me.

He kept at me until I finally stopped shuddering. When he lifted his head, wiping his mouth, a smug expression on his face, I blushed. A full on middle school blush. My legs were spread on either side of his head and my jeans were caught at my ankles. My bra was still on, but it was completely crooked, nipples uncovered. Overwhelmed, I looked away toward the Christmas tree. Amelia was sitting on the area rug on her butt watching us.

“Oh, my God, the dog is watching us.” That to me was more embarrassing than anything else.

“What?” Devin glanced over, kissing my inner thigh before sitting up. He gave a crack of laughter. “She looks offended.”

Amelia barked. My cell phone started buzzing in the pocket of my jeans, dangling over the side of the couch. I clamped my legs together and rolled on my side, self-conscious of what Devin was seeing.