Overexposed: The Complete Boxset: A Virgin Meets a Bad Boy Romance (10 page)

I lean forward and give the driver the address Devon sent me.

W
hen I get
into the trendy hotel bar, I realize it has a tropical theme. What could be more welcome after stomping around in the snow, little cold puddles melting into the inside of my heels? Devon catches my eye from a tiny booth in the back, and when he stands to help me take off my jacket he swears under his breath. “Fuck. Are you trying to give me a heart attack in that dress?”

My face flushes with delight. “I take that to mean I look good?”

“You look fucking stunning.”

“Thank you.”

Devon helps me settle into the booth, before he slides in right next to me. “I took the initiative and ordered you a drink.”

I look down at the mai tai in front of me, and I can’t help but giggle. “I’ve haven’t been able to drink anything else since I’ve been home. Charlene, my step-mother, and I have nicknamed them the Philistine.”

“The Philistine?”

“It’s because in certain circles it’s frowned upon to drink anything so common or low-brow.”

“Fucking stuck-up assholes.”

“I couldn’t have said it better myself.” I take a long hard pull and sigh. “This is just what I needed.”

I barely get another sip, before I’m crushed in his arms and Devon’s mouth is devouring mine. I relish the taste of rum on his tongue, my hand wandering of its own accord to caress the thick length of him through his trousers.

He breaks the kiss long enough to whisper. “Let’s go to my room.”

At my nod, he throws some cash on the table and pulls me from the booth. Once we’re alone in the elevator, he pins me against the wall. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you today. I’ve had to jerk off twice at the mere remembrance of last night. At being the first person to ever have a taste of that delectable pussy. I’ve thought of nothing but the exquisite heaven of sinking into you balls deep, to feel you writhe as I fucking fucked you so hard and so good.”

My breath hitches and my body smolders and aches for him to do just that.

When the elevator opens, Devon scoops me into his arms and carries me down the hall. He balances me effortlessly as he swipes his key and opens the door. Once we’re inside the room, Devon lowers me gently to the floor, his hands are warm and strong as they caresses my thighs. As his fingers grasp the hem of the dress and sweep it up and over my head.

He settles his hands on my hips, his fingers hooking into my thong and pulling them free. His mouth traces a blazing path across my collarbone and shoulder as he unclasps my bra and palms my breasts. My nipples harden into stiff peaks, and I sigh when he sucks my right nipple into his mouth—swirling his tongue around the bud. He’s even more attentive to the left, sucking harder until I release a moan and fall into him.

Devon releases me and sits me on the end of the bed. He slowly, agonizingly slowly, begins to unbutton his shirt. I want to lick the hard ridges of his chest and abs, but I remain seated, intent on watching the show. Kicking off his shoes, his pants puddle around his ankles and he steps out of them. His boxer briefs tent and beckon to be explored as he bends down to strip off his socks.

I still and bite my lip when his fingers curl around his briefs, as the thick glorious length of him springs up, his erection bobbing heavily in the air. My mouth waters with want, but he shakes his head. “Tonight I only want to be buried inside you.”

A frown pulls at the corners of my mouth, and he softly laughs. “As delectable as having those pillow soft lips wrapped around my cock sounds, I don’t want to lose myself too quickly.”

Instead he sits down beside me on the bed, his fingers stroke up and down my spine until I melt back against the mattress like a contented cat. And then he sweeps his hands along my abdomen, chasing their trajectory with the warmth of his mouth. He scoops one hand under my ass, kneading it as he lifts me until my head rests on the pillow and my thighs relax open. And then his breath washes across the blazing core of me, and the flat of his tongue sweeps along my seem to capture my clit—the tight bundle of nerves awaken and bloom beneath his expert mouth. His tongue does that illegal move where it anchors just beneath my bud, relentlessly caressing me with deep, hard licks and nudges.

I’m going to cum, and I’m not ready to yet. But he’s unrelenting as he plunges two fingers into my pussy and hits that sweet spot deep inside me. It’s too much. Not enough. And just when I’m sure I’m going to shatter, cold air washes across my cunt.

I’m bereft at the loss of him.

Until he tucks a pillow under my ass, hooking my legs over his shoulders he slowly dips the tip of his cock into my wet folds. He slides the length of himself against the wetness of my seam and a deep, guttural moan of longing escapes my lungs. He answers my call by plunging two fingers back into my pussy, his thumb tight against my cit as he massages it with steady circles. And then his crown is pushing into the tender flesh of my tight passage—my own arousal his perfect lube. A groan of pleasure fills the room—crackling through my body like wildfire—as he pushes further into my ass.

I whimper and writhe beneath him over the sheer perfection of him filling me, stretching me, fucking me.

Devon loses himself in that whimper, his hand grinding into my clit and pussy with the same voracity as his cock does into my ass. He pounds into me with reckless abandon, the deeper and harder he thrusts, the more I crave. I unwind my legs and wrap them around his waist. Around those tireless hips which drive him into me with a relentless pleasure, and I try to match his rhythm guided only by the pulse of his cock.

His fingers dig into my hips roughly as he slams into me, his thrusts becoming wilder and faster. Every nerve in my body is alive and erupting, my breath is nothing more than ragged gasps as Devon continues to hammer his cock into my ass chasing his own release.

And then he utters my name. A simple, Anna, hung in the sky for me to reach.

So I soar to it, my core tightening and my ass clenching around his cock as I rocket back into the galaxies, my fingers trail along the beautiful song of my name sparkling in the inky void. Devon’s body shutters, as the aftershocks of my glorious orgasm milk his cock, filling me with his spreading burst of warmth deep inside me.

And when he pulls me into his arms, his head resting in the hollow of my neck, our hearts beating in unison, I know I’m safe. That there is no place I’d rather be.

S
unlight pools across my face
, and I wake with a smile. If it weren’t for the heavy weight of Devon’s arm around my waist, or the heady feel of his cock against my ass, I might believe last night was nothing but a dream. But it isn’t, he’s here beside me. The warmth of his body spreads through my limbs, it fills me with incandescent happiness as I snuggle back against him. I’m sorely tempted to fall back to sleep and stay here in this bed with him for the rest of the day.

But I need to visit my father. I know today is an approved visitation day, and there is no better time than the present. I need to make him understand that I can’t marry Eric—that there is no future with someone that I now find impossible to love. And even though I don’t need it, I want his approval. I want him to acknowledge that my happiness is greater than a long-planned match. I have to make him see that
that
life no longer holds any appeal for me.

Everything I could possible want and more is currently curled around my body.

With as little movement as possible I grab my phone from the bedside table. Logging into Zipcar, I reserve the only vehicle located anywhere near me—a fucking minivan. I quietly giggle over the fact that a few short weeks ago, I would have been annoyed—now I only find it hilarious.

After I log out, I check my messages and find three texts from Eric. They all pretty much read the same. He’s wondering if I’m feeling better, he’s apologetic that he’d been so drunk the night before. I so could not give a flying fuck, but it doesn’t stop me from texting him back.

I’m feeling much better. Just rented a Zipcar to go visit Dad.

Eric texts me back immediately.
I’m so glad, I was worried about you.

Yeah, I’m so sure you were. Dickweed.

Before I have time to reply, another text comes through.
If you need company, I could go with you.

I bite my lip and roll my eyes.
Pretty sure you don’t want to hear what I have to say to my dad.
Maybe next time?

And then because I feel obligated I send him a heart emoji.

His only response is an eggplant and an open mouth emoji face.
You fucking wish.

I slide the phone back onto the side table and contemplate getting out of bed. Devon’s arm tightens around me, and warm lips press against the back of my neck. “Don’t even think of trying to escape.”

I laugh. “You’re going to have to release me at some point.”

“Wanna bet?”

The need to see his face, has me turning in his arms until we’re face to face. Devon smiles and drops a kiss on the end of my nose. “If I asked you to go somewhere with me today, would you be willing?”

“Would this require us leaving this bed?”

At my nod, he shakes his head.

“Not even if it was really important?”

Devon’s eyes search my face, and he must recognize some glimmer of desperation written on the planes of my face because he pulls me into his chest. “If it’s important to you, then it’s important to me. Is it asking too much to know where we’re going?”

“I really need to see my dad.”

Devon smiles. “Isn’t it a little early to introduce me to your parents?”

I grimace. “Technically, you won’t be able to meet him.”

Devon’s eyes darken with an unrecognizable emotion, but he keeps his voice light and teasing. “Afraid he won’t approve?”

He doesn’t even know how close he’s hit the mark. “It’s more complicated than that, it’s a sensitive subject and I’ve never been good at talking to people about it—I’m always afraid they’ll judge me, and him.”

“Did he abuse you?” Devon’s arms tighten and his words are laced with venom. “Because if that’s the case you better not take me or you’ll be visiting me in jail instead of a hotel room.”

“It’s nothing like that,” I whisper. “It’s just…my father. My father is in prison.”

The moment the words fall from my mouth, the whole sordid story spills from my lips. Devon listens patiently and silently as I explain that my family has always had a plan for me. A future spouse for me. How my father took the fall for someone else’s shady deals to ensure that those carefully constructed plans would never fall apart. I tell him the how’s and why’s I entered the erotic modeling life—the double life I’ve been leading for the last seven years, with my step-mother as the only friend and ally I could trust and depend on. I confessed how I can no longer bear to be in the same vicinity as Eric or his family—of how disrespectfully they treated me. How I can no longer handle the expectations that had been heaped upon my head, especially when my heart was somewhere else, with someone else. How I no longer want any part of that life. I confide in him how afraid I am—of disappointing my father and in turn isolating myself from Charlene—but most importantly, of not being strong enough to say the words.

When I finish, Devon wipes away the tears I hadn’t even been aware I was shedding. He rocks me in his arms, until my shaking subsides and I’m drowsy from the comfort his caring brings me. He brushes the hair from my face, and kisses me sweetly. “I’m ready when you are.”

“Are you sure? Because I wouldn’t blame you if you ran as fast and as far from me as you’re able.”

“Haven’t you realized yet that I’m incapable of being apart from you?”

My heart races at his declaration, and I decide to be brave. “You are the dream that I’ve dared to believe for
me.”

No other words are needed as Devon claims my mouth and my heart all at the same time.

* * *

T
wo hours later
, after a quick stop at the local Target for visitation appropriate clothes and countless jokes at the expense of the poor minivan who did nothing wrong except existing, Devon pulls over at a snowy overlook. When he learned where we were headed, he’d insisted we stop to see a frozen waterfall a friend had told him about in passing. Bundled up against the cold winter’s day, we pick our way through the snow for a better vantage point, and find ourselves facing a breathtaking view. Icicles, dozens of feet tall, drip from the side of a rock wall and end in billowy peaks of snow and plumes of ice. Sunlight sparkles through the icy waterfall, nearly blinding us with it’s brilliance.

Devon unearths his camera, his shutter clicking rapidly as he attempts to capture a slice of its beauty for viewing later. Until he unexpectedly points the camera towards me. I laugh and jokingly try to block my face. “I thought you were supposed to be taking photographs of the natural beauty?”

“I am,” Devon answers, as he frames me into a shot with the waterfall. “You are the most beautiful thing I see.”

I duck my head in pleasure, my face warming under the sweetness of his words. And when I try to meet his truthful gaze, my hands shake with the undeniable fact that I’m falling for him. Very very hard.

Devon notices that I’m shaking and misinterprets that it means I’m cold. He slings his camera over his shoulder, before placing a gloved hand on the small of back. “Let’s get you back to van so you can get warmed up, we’ve got a soccer match to get to.”

My laughter echoes through the crisp winter air, when I hear the distinct click of a shutter. Devon’s grin is wide as he shrugs and then he lowers the camera from his face. “I can’t help myself. You are living and breathing art, and I have to capture it for the world to see.”

It’s such a complete turnaround from just a few short weeks ago, when Devon had condemned what I did for a living and basically called it trash. Now he values me. The real me, the Anna me, and words can’t express the wonders it does for my soul.

“Is everything ok?”

I nod, unable to articulate my compounding emotions, so I silence him by sliding open the side door and climbing into the back of the minivan. Crooking my index finger I beckon him to join me, and he does so happily. The second the door slams closed, I free his thick cock from his pants and begin to pay homage— not even bothering to take off my leather gloves. The glove slide surprisingly easy as I stroke from the base of his cock to where my tongue and lips circle and tease his tip.

Devon’s groan of pleasure coupled with the way his hips thrust forward with every stroke of my mouth and gloved hand, is all the encouragement I need to take him fully in my mouth. To allow him to bury his dick as far down my throat as he can manage. I’m practically dripping through my panties, my pussy slick with want. Allowing him to fuck my mouth, I curve one hand up to cup his ass and use my other to touch myself. My hand massages my clit with urgency, the leather of the glove feeling like a foreign touch—dangerous and seductive.

“Fuck yes. Oh my fucking God, Anna.” Devon gasps between labored breaths, his eyes take on a predatory hunger as he watches me—and I burn and blossom under that gaze.

My hand nestles in the wet center of me, matches his thrusts, and when I moan around the hard, thick length of him, his dick twitches. With two deep thrusts, Devon growls my name again as I swallow his hot offering while bringing myself higher and higher. That is until Devon scoops me in his arms and lays me across the seat. “You dirty fucking beautiful girl. No one is going to make you cum but me.”

He then plunges his own leather clad fingers into my sopping wet cunt, and I nearly come right then and there. But Devon allows no such thing. He plays with me, teases me, brings me to the brink again and again until my hips are bucking against his hand. Until my knees are weak and I’m afraid I’m going to pass out from the sheer need of release. But when his dark head bends and he captures and suckles my clit while adding an additional leather finger to my ass, the trifecta proves my undoing. My fingers dig into those dark curls as I ride his mouth to heaven, my throat sore as I scream his name.

* * *

W
e pull
up to the prison complex, and Devon drops me at the front gate. “I’ll be right here waiting for you.”

I cup his cheek in the palm of my hand. “Thank you.”

His hand covers mine. “You don’t need to thank me.”

Leaning across the seat, I lay a sweet kiss on his tempting mouth. “I’ll be back shortly.”

With that I open the door, nerves wracking my frame at the thought of facing my father in this place. My anxiety is only compounded when I have to show my ID to the check in guard, wait for him to verify that I’m on the approved visitation list, and then pass through the security check. I shouldn’t have waited so long to come see him, and I’m afraid of any condemnation from my apparent lack of concern. But the moment Dad enters the visiting area, looking exactly the way I remember him with tanned skin, smiling eyes, and the distinguished air even prison can’t erase, my eyes burn with unshed tears. “Daddy.”

I hadn’t realized how much I’ve missed him until his arms enfold me. “My beautiful, Anna.”

He realizes me with a pat to the hand, his eyes crinkled in pleasure, so we can sit across from each other. “Daddy, I've missed you so much. It’s been too long.”

“I’ve missed you too, Anna-banana. Tell me, how’s Char?”

“She’s surprisingly good. She misses you, and said she’ll be up next week.”

“I’m glad you both are doing so well, that knowledge makes it bearable here. I’m a blessed man to have two great girls who love me.” Dad folds his hands on the table, his blue eyes happy. “But I’ll be happier when I finally receive an invitation to your wedding.”

My throat is parched, while my brain scrambles a way to broach the subject of not marrying Eric. “Daddy? What if Eric and I didn’t get married?”

“What do you me, if you don’t get married. There is no if, there is only when,” he answers, his good humor vanishing into thin air.

I’d forgotten this side of him. “We no longer fit. It’s not the same. If you were there to witness how he treats me now, you would never condone our marriage.”

He slams his hand down on the table, drawing a sharp look from the guard. He pulls his hands toward him and lowers his voice. “This isn’t about his treatment of you, or whatever excuse you can conjure up to explain your cold feet. This is about our families. This is about the fact that I am in here for you. I did
this
for you,” Daddy waves his hand around the visiting center. “Do you think this was part of my life plan?”