Wyatt (Lane Brothers #1) (82 page)

Becky

The feel of his lips on mine erases every thought, every question that had been on the tip of my tongue. Instead of asking what he intended, what he felt, if there is a chance that we’ll ever be more than just ‘friends’ I’d blurted out my need and pathetic longing for any, just a small, connection with him.

These last two months have been the worst of my life as I tried and ultimately failed to keep myself separate from him and maintain the distance my head keeps screaming at me to keep.

My body and heart though are not playing nice with my brain and I’d decided today, after hearing Lila talk to Grey, cooing into the phone in a sickeningly mushy display that made my teeth rot instantly, that I want some of that.

I want intimacy and sharing and all the shit normal people, couples have. But seeing as me and Dev aren’t exactly hitting the jackpot in that department I at least want some of that fine muscled ass he’s been showing off lately thanks to the Georgia heat wave.

So what if he doesn’t love me? I can love him and not care too much if he feels the same. I snort at that and let the thoughts go, enjoying the feel of his mouth on mine and his arms around me as he pulls me up and lays me out on the table, his arms sending dishes crashing to the floor in his urgency.

“Wanted to see you for so long.’ He mutters, dragging at my pants with one hand while shoving my shirt up with the other.

The position doesn’t allow for much movement since I can’t really see much over my stomach but what I do see when he rises over me is an expression of intense lust and the gleam of something indefinable as he practically rips my clothes off and stands back to look at me, his lower lips caught between his teeth.

“So beautiful.” He whispers reverently, laying a shaking hand to my swollen belly. “Do you have any idea how much I’ve wanted to see you like this? Swollen and filled with my seed. Such a turn on.”

I doubt it but in this moment, the way he’s looking at me as if I’m some sort of centre fold, I feel so sexy I feel myself stretch languidly beneath his eyes.

“I want you Devon.” I whisper, lying back on the cold wood and opening myself to him.

I want him to ravish me the way he did all those months ago. I want the lust filled, crazy passion he’d been unable to keep back. Only this time I want to walk out of the bathroom with him still in bed, waiting for me to come back and cuddle.

A dream, but heck, I’m pregnant and hormonal so shut up and leave me alone.

“You have me imp.”

And then he’s kissing me again as he palms my sensitive breasts, his large hands taking care to squeeze lightly as his fingers pluck and strum, building my arousal to a fevers pitch before releasing my lips and making his way down my throat with nibbling licks that have me panting and writhing in need.

By the time he reaches my breasts and takes my straining nipples into his hot mouth for warm, gentle sucks I’m wet and moaning, begging him to touch me where I need him most.

“I’ve got you baby. Ssh, yes, feel this?” he croons, biting gently into my nipple even as one long thick finger pierces me below and tests my readiness. “So needy baby, open wider for me, yes, just so. Christ I can almost taste your need.” He mutters, making his way from my aching nipples to the nub that’s pulsing so hard it hurts deep inside.

I wail when his mouth touches me, my hands pulling at his hair to bring him closer when he opens fully and engulfs me in searing heat that has my toes curling and my back bowing off the wood.

He’s moaning too, mumbling incoherently against my flesh and I don’t care, can’t care when the feelings of remembered bliss start coalescing deep inside and fanning out in a wave of such pleasure I feel like I’m breaking apart as my orgasm hits.

It goes on for long minutes, the aftershocks fed and intensified by Devon’s still suckling mouth and licking tongue as he gentles me, bringing me down slowly.

He coos to me when I finally fall limp beneath him and strokes the fleshy skin of my thighs, petting me to calmness before looming over me and cradling my face between his palms.

The kiss he gives me is erotic and sensual, a promise, no, a claiming as he lines himself up at my opening and thrusts home in one swoop, the muscles of his abdomen tensing against my lower stomach and telling me of his shaky control.

“You’re so…tight…perfect fit for me.” He grunts, his full thrusts winding me back up, hitting me in that perfect spot deep inside, making my sex spasm in a rhythmic clench that leaves me moaning in one long gentle orgasm.

The contractions make him shudder, the tightening deep inside pulling at him and I feel his tension, his desperation to keep control even as his thrusts get harder, faster, his body slamming into mine so forcefully I’m forced to wrap my fingers around the edge of the table and hold on for dear life.

“IloveyouIloveyouIloveyou.”

When he comes, he thrusts hard one last time and still above me, his sex twitching, filling me with heat and a part of him that only I have felt. The sensation sends another round of fading contractions through my womb and I come to minutes later to the feel of his warm skin smoothing over mine, our bodies stuck together with sweat and the remnants of our spent passion.

I realize what I’ve said a split second after my breath returns and I tense, feeling mortification obliterate the lazy bliss that invaded my bones a breath before, but Devon just leans up and kisses my nose, eyes and lips and grins down at me.

“Oh gross! I just saw your arse old chap! Put some bleeding clothes on already. We eat at that table. Hun can stay since she’s a belter.”

We both groan and then we’re laughing so hard he slips out of me and ends up with his head on my chest, his shoulders shaking heavily.

“Well, that’ll get them to stop flirting with you.”

“Dream on
old man
, they didn’t have a problem with
my
naked ass.”

“Quite right imp, but this naked arse is mine.” He growls into my breasts, giving my ass a squeeze before pulling me up and throwing his shirt over me. “And I don’t bloody share. Now up to bed for us hellion, I don’t think I paid your breasts adequate homage in my haste.”

I can’t argue with that, quite frankly I don’t want to, so I waddle up the stairs instead, fully aware of my ass hanging out the back of the shirt and his lustful gaze as he prowls up behind me.

We’re not nearly where we should be in this ‘relationship’ considering in four months I’ll pop out a kid with both our DNA mixed into one perfect cocktail, but for now I am so totally okay with hot, mind-blowing sex.

I just hope my little slip up went unnoticed or the power I managed to get so recently won’t mean shit with a ruthless shark like Devon swimming in my waters.

Dev

Of course I heard her avowals of love. Asking if I did, or rather imp assuming that her screams didn’t register, is laughably ridiculous since I’ve been straining my ears for one kind word besides ‘that toast looks yummy’-before she steals it and skips out-since we walked out of her father’s study.

And that brings me to the subject at hand. Finding out what the hell has Brand Slade acting like a complete arse with his beloved off spring. Logan I can understand since no father delights in sending his son off to a war that can get him killed, but imp has simply given up a career she never wanted.

Surely that shouldn’t set him off this badly.

Even mum-my distant aunt Fanny, but a woman who’s loved as fiercely as my own had been-is poleaxed at the man’s turnabout in the last years. She should know she spends at least one day a week talking his ear off while he advises her about her stocks and bonds.

“I don’t know what the heck has gotten into the old man Dev. I called him yesterday to ask about the family dinner mama’s been planning and he told me it was cancelled. And then he dropped the call without so much as a greeting. I dunno man, I’ve wracked my brain and plain asked him what his heat is and I got nothing.”

I sigh and listen to Grey mumble about parents and work and Lila while I try to come up with a way to discover the problem. Nothing though.

“Imp is at six months Grey. She’s depending on me to get your father ‘round before the baby comes. I need something.”

“Well I dunno what to tell you man. He cussed Matt out last week about dating the McClusky girl and hasn’t answered any of Jet’s calls for three weeks. And he’s the kid that followed the plan he had mapped out. To the freaking letter.”

Which means that Brand is using this division to cover up something he doesn’t want the rest knowing about. That would also explain the mother’s silence the day imp had seen them. No mother, well no good one at least, stands by in silence while her princess cries.

Not after a grandchild is mentioned.

Fuck.

“I have some calls to make Grey.”

“Alright man. Tell scamp I love her will ya and I want that footage of Davy’s first football game. Lila says the kid’s making waves and some college scouts are paying attention.”

“Yeah, he’s astonishingly good at the sport for someone who hates the mere mention of the name football. The tackles he took playing rugby have served him well and he says playing with pads is like-”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, rugby for five year olds, I got that the first time he said it and every time after too. Tell that kid of yours that football is a national pastime here and that badmouthing it while playing like a pro will get his ass kicked.”

I ring off with his laughter and ribbing still ringing in my ears and sit back in my chair, listening to the off key wailing that is imp’s singing as she does whatever the heck it is she does in that crafting room of hers.

I’d set the place up as a way for her to pass time but she’s so into her ‘job’ that I don’t see her all day unless I catch her waddling around in the kitchen or watching her ‘shows’, most of which consist of reality television and some American show about nerdy men and a hot blonde Davy keeps ogling.

The door bursts open and in waltzes my imp, her hips swaying with every step and not to mention what her breasts are doing the way they’ve grown.

“Are we going to the game tonight? Lila says Davy’s starting and I want photos and there are these corndog things that are deeelicious that I want to get and-”

“Garret and I are going but they forecast rain so you’re staying home with Ryan.”

“What? No. I am so going. I promised Dayday and I don’t break promises. Ever.”

Interesting but beside the point right now. No way in hades is my woman, my very pregnant woman sitting in the bleachers with the threat of rain hanging over her head.

Not happening.

***

“This is so freaking cool! Do you want a bite?”

“No.”

Okay so I’m sulking. Badly. Who can blame a guy? After I’d steadfastly refused to let her come with and left with Garret we’d walked into the school and searched for a good spot only to see a grinning Ryan shovelling corndogs at my little pig while she fiddled with an umbrella and kept her eyes peeled for her ‘Dayday’.

What man in his right mind enjoys being outsmarted by a minuscule woman and an almost seventeen year old boy with more dick than brains? Not me.

“Oh come on! Taste it. It’s freaking delicious.”

“You said that already imp. A few hundred times.”

“Because it’s true! This is like pig meat at its best. And they gave me spring onion flavoured sauce to go with it and the guy liked me so he got me a side order of onion rings.”

“Lovely. I get to kiss all that aroma at the end of the night.”

“You don’t wanna kiss my aroma?”

Oh shit, is she…?

“Don’t cry imp, I was jesting, truly I was. Here see? Hhmm, delicious just as you said.”

I swallow around the revolting, congealed mass and smile sickly, thanking my lucky stars when her misty eyes lighten and she grins, her teeth sporting a few bits of something I really don’t want to inspect right now.

“Oh look! Run Day, tackle his fat ass. Break him. That’s the way you sexy beast!”

I’m not sure I’m on board with her calling the lad such complimentary names but I’m saved from a jealous growl when my lad performs a bone jarring tackle that lays a behemoth of a boy flat on his arse and the-I don’t know what they call that position-but the bloke catches the ball and plants it with a howl, everyone in the bleachers going wild, including my pregnant girl.

“That’s it, stomp that asshole into the ground!”

“Hey, that’s my kid you fat bitch!”

Imp turns, her belly shoving into my head and face and shakes her fist at a larger woman up and to her left.

“Oh yeah? Well your little girl just got flattened by my boy so suck it sistah!” she yells. “That’s what you call justice since your tutu wearing ballerina’s been targeting my baby all night.”

“You fat cow! My boy’s gonna crush him.”

“Oh yeah-”

I turn a look on the overzealous woman and hold eye contact long enough that she quiets down and gulps, getting the message so well she scuttles to the stairs and starts searching for a seat in the other section.

Imp meanwhile is trying to bite the hand I have clamped over her mouth while doing an admirable job of rubbing her large breasts all over my chest.

“I’ll take it away when you calm down.” I hiss, kissing her nose to take away some of the sting of my tone. When she quiets I release her and set her on my lap, just in case she gets any bright ideas.

Can’t bloody wait for her to give birth so her brains can start functioning on a setting other than off her nut.

Grey’s words come back to me and I want to laugh. ‘American’s take their football seriously Brit so watch your back’.

“Geez dude, what’s your heat? We were just talking smack. That’s what mom’s do when their boys meet on the field. It’s like comparing dick size.” She grumps, after licking my hand to get me to release her. “Would you get a load of this guy?” she asks the old man sitting to her left. “He’s getting squeamish about a little game noise.”

By the end of the night I’ve been squarely put in my place. Yes, apparently these people have made a sport out of spectator ‘smack talk’ and enjoy it just as much as the game.

When the final whistle blows, heralding a win for Davy and the home team we cheer and clap and then I get Joan of Arc out of there before she can spot her rival and start up another round of heckling.

The things I do for love-