In His Shadow (Tangled Ivy Book 1) (15 page)

Heaving as though I’d just run a marathon, I pried my eyes open. Devon had stopped when his touch became too much and was now nuzzling the skin at the juncture of my thigh to my hip. He pressed his lips against my abdomen as I threaded my fingers through his hair.

I craved his skin against mine, wanted the hard length of him inside me. I pulled at his shoulders until he lifted his head. His lips were wet and red and I licked my own in response.

Devon crawled up the bed, straddling me, until he hovered over me on his hands and knees. I whimpered, my gaze fixed on his mouth, and he kissed me. His kiss was deep and I could taste myself on his tongue.

My hands went to his belt and the shyness I’d felt earlier had evaporated. It was a matter of a few tugs to unlatch the belt and draw down his zipper. He had nothing on underneath the slacks and his cock was heavy and thick in my hand. Devon groaned against my lips.

The head of his cock was as soft as silk and my thumb brushed the sensitive skin. Devon’s kisses turned hungry and urgent. Sliding an arm underneath me, he moved us farther back on the bed, away from the edge. I barely noticed. I wanted him inside me.

“Please,” I whispered. “Make love to me.”

For a fraction of a second, Devon went still, then he hooked a hand underneath each of my knees. Drawing them up toward my chest, he spread my legs and sank inside me in one hard thrust. I whimpered at the friction against my overly sensitized flesh. It felt too much, the hard stroke of his cock as he moved, and yet I wanted more.

“Watch me now,” he rasped. “Watch me take you.”

I gazed down at where our bodies joined, mesmerized at the sight of his glistening flesh sliding into mine. It felt as though he was staking his claim on me. I watched until a second, more powerful orgasm took me and my eyes squeezed shut again.

Devon’s hips pistoned hard into me, a wordless shout torn from his throat as he came. He hadn’t used a condom this time, which didn’t bother me at all. I was on birth control and somehow his not using the condom gave the act more meaning between us than it had before.

He lay on top of me and my legs cramped slightly as I circled them around his back. The warmth of his breath teased my neck as
I held him close. The rapid beat of his heart overpowered mine as his chest pressed against me.

Pulling away, he rolled me with him, arranging us so he could pull the duvet to cover our bodies. There was a bit of a chill in the air and I let out a deep sigh. My body was sated and my mind was in a warm, fuzzy place with rainbows and cupids.

Devon lay facing me. I smiled a little at him, my chest full of feelings I didn’t yet want to put a name to.

He didn’t return my smile, but he did reach out and brush a stray lock of hair back from my face.

Despite my sated exhaustion, questions nagged at me about tonight. “Who were those men tonight?” I couldn’t help but ask. Though I was loath to bring back up the topic of the dead men, I wanted to know what was going on. What if I hadn’t been there tonight? Would Devon have managed to break free of that man’s choke hold?

“They work for a man,” he said. “A man who knows I’m looking for him.”

I frowned. “I thought the man you were looking for was Clive?”

“I let him think that, yes,” Devon said. “I was betting he’d give up information to save his own hide. And I was right.”

My hand rested in the empty space between us on the mattress. Devon seemed lost in his own thoughts as he threaded his fingers through mine, his thumb absently stroking my skin.

“Are you going to meet him tomorrow?”

“Of course.”

I swallowed. “But what if he double-crosses you again?”

Devon’s gaze focused on mine. “Then I’ll kill him.”

A cold chill went through me and I shivered. Wrapping an arm over my waist, Devon pulled me closer to him, tucking me into the warmth of his body.

“So why are you looking for this man?” I asked.

“He stole something very important,” he replied, “a seventy-year-old secret.”

“What could he possibly do with a secret that old?” I asked.

“Kill millions.”

I pulled back so I could look at Devon, my jaw gaping. Our eyes met. “You’re serious,” I said.

“I never joke about things like that.”

“And Mr. Galler?”

“Had known the secret for a very long time,” Devon finished.

“What is it?” I asked, unsure if I wanted to know such a thing or not.

“The details are still sketchy, which is why I need Clive’s help in order to stop them.”

“I’ll worry about you,” I hesitantly confessed.

Devon didn’t say anything. He just pulled me back toward him again until my cheek rested against his chest. His silence hurt. I felt like I’d been stripped bare tonight, revealing things about my past that no one besides Logan knew. Devon’s and my relationship, if you could even call it that, was a sexual one of convenience for him. Even with his earlier admission of caring a little for me, he’d also said he didn’t like it, which I took to mean he didn’t
want
to care about me.

Which was too bad, considering I was falling in love with him.

“Wake up, brat.”

I shuddered at the sound of his voice in my ear. I should have known that pretending to be asleep wouldn’t make him go away.

The covers were jerked out of my fisted grip, the cool night air in my room chilling me. A rush of cold sweat skated across my skin. I knew w
hat was coming, and in that moment, I would have done anything to avoid it.

Jace yanked the sweatpants I wore down and off my legs, taking my underwear with them, and I knew better than to fight him. If I fought, he made sure it hurt. I despised myself for fearing the pain too much to fight him.

Pushing me, he made me turn over, and I heard the crinkle of paper as he unwrapped a condom. I hadn’t even known what that was the first time he’d done it. I’d learned quickly enough.

I buried my face in the bedcovers and tried not to make a sound. It hurt. It always did.

His guttural moan made me want to vomit and I choked back the bile.

“You like it, don’t you, brat,” he hissed.

Jace liked to talk and I tried my best to tune him out. I thought about school, about homework, about Logan, about how I could take a knife and slash my wrists and I’d never have to go through this again.

In spite of myself, I let out a whimper of pain.

Instantly, he slammed his palm into the side of my head.

“Not a sound, brat.”

My head throbbed from where he’d hit me, but I bit my lip until I tasted blood and didn’t make a sound.

I pretended I was somewhere else, a warm summer field, staring up at the clouds racing by overhead, Logan by my side. We’d make pictures of the clouds, laughing at some of the ideas we came up with. Rabbits skipping rope, elves lying side by side, bears reaching for a kite . . .

“Turn over,” he ordered, his harsh command dragging me back from where I’d retreated inside my head.

He was done and I knew what came next—what always came next. I hated it possibly more, but I also knew that he’d leave afterwards, so I did as he ordered, staring up at the dark ceiling rather than at him as he stood by my bed.

Jace leaned down, pressing his lips to mine. I didn’t move or even breathe. Finally, he lifted his head.

“You know I only do this because I love you,” he whispered. His hand brushed my hair and cheek. “You’re so pretty, and I love you so fucking much.” His fist tightened in my hair, making my eyes water, but I didn’t make a sound. “What the fuck am I supposed to do, brat? You make me do this. It’s your fault I’m this way.”

The moment my door closed, I was up and in the bathroom. I couldn’t shower, not so soon or he’d hear and come back to punish me. But I’d snuck antiseptic wipes from the kitchen into my bathroom and I used those to wipe between my legs.

My hands were steady and my mind blank. I couldn’t think about it. It just . . . was. Maybe Jace was right. It was my fault he did this to me. But I couldn’t understand why, if he said he loved me, why he’d hurt me? Would he ever stop? Or would this be my life from now on?

At that thought, I started to shake. I had to get out of there. Logan. I needed Logan.

I dressed again and shoved my feet into my tennis shoes; my only thought was Logan. I had to get to Logan.

LoganLoganLogan . . .

“Shhh.”

I woke to confusion, the few seconds of not knowing where I was before memory returned.

Devon was holding me, holding me much more tightly than when we’d fallen asleep. And he was shushing me.

“What’s the matter?” I asked, easing away slightly. Why had he woken me?

He looked down at me, his expression stark. “You were . . . having a nightmare,” he said finally.

That’s when I realized my cheeks were wet. A flash of a dream, like smoke, flitted through my mind. I’d been dreaming about Jace. I shuddered.

“Sorry about that,” I said. “I don’t usually have the nightmares anymore.” And I didn’t. Worrying about Jace must have brought my past to the forefront of my subconscious.

Devon gently swiped my cheeks, erasing the tracks of my tears. He pressed his lips to mine once. Twice.

“Go back to sleep. I’ve got you.”

The warmth in his voice made me relax and I obediently closed my eyes. This time when I slept, there were no nightmares waiting for me.

With room service for breakfast came clothes for me to wear. I didn’t question how Devon had gotten the hotel to acquire them; I just put them on. The pair of black slacks and crimson cashmere sweater fit perfectly and didn’t look too odd with my black heels.

Devon was knotting his tie when I finished pinning my hair back up. I carefully packed the dress I’d worn last night into a plastic laundry bag to take with me.

“Did you eat something?” Devon asked.

I nodded. He’d ordered some of everything, it seemed. “I had the yogurt.”

A slight frown creased his forehead. “You didn’t try the pastry?” He snagged a Danish from the tray and took a bite. Approaching me, he wrapped an arm around my waist. “Try it,” he said, holding the Danish to my lips. “You’ll adore it.”

I opened my mouth and he fed me a bite, the flaky dough melting on my tongue. I liked being in Devon’s arms too much to protest as he patiently fed me the entire pastry. He smelled good, his jaw smooth from his shave, and he wore a suit as comfortably as most men wore jeans.

It was sunny and cold outside and I hugged my coat closer as Devon held the door to his car for me. Soon we were speeding down the road in the direction of my apartment.

I wasn’t sure what to say. Would I see Devon again? Did he want to see me again? Had I said too much last night, gotten more personal than he ever wanted? I couldn’t help but think that was true, that no matter the connection between us, Devon wasn’t looking for any kind of relationship that would tie him down.