Admission of Love (18 page)

He moaned in response, already beginning to fall asleep.

Chloe laid her head against his sweat-dampened shoulder. Soon she felt herself drifting into an exhausted slumber as well. Suddenly she sat up in the bed, the sheet falling around her waist, baring her breasts.

How could I forget?
  She shook him. “Dev . . . Dev! Wake up.”

Devon opened one eye and looked up at her. “What?”

“My surprise, what is it?”

He stretched his tall muscular frame in the bed. “All right, all right. Get dressed.”

Chloe hopped out of bed with more energy than she had a few seconds ago. She gathered up her clothes into her arms, carrying them with her toward the bathroom.

Devon looked at her in surprise. “Where are you going?”

She looked back with a saucy wink. “To take a shower. Coming?”

His eyes took in her curved naked form and hurried to jerk off the jeans he had just put on. “No doubt.”

Thirty minutes later Chloe climbed into the cab of Devon’s pickup beside him. He headed in the direction of her property and Chloe looked at him in confusion. Moments later he turned into her driveway and she gasped in surprise. A large red bow was on the front of the house and she knew without him saying that the house was complete.

She turned and faced Devon, the pleasure evident in her face. “It wasn’t supposed to be completed for another two weeks.”

Devon said nothing at first, moving to get out of the truck. Chloe followed and did the same, coming to walk beside him. “Deshawn and I put in a lot of extra time with a couple of men from the crew. It was just a matter of getting the painters, plumbers and electricians in earlier than originally scheduled to finish up their parts of the job.”

It was perfect and Chloe loved it instantly, just as she had when the architect took her ideas and returned to her with this unique design on paper. Now this sprawling one-level structure was a reality.

Devon touched her elbow lightly. “Come on, let’s go inside.”

He moved to walk into the house, but Chloe stopped him with a soft touch of her hand on his back. He turned, a questioning look on his handsome face. She flung herself at him, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck. Leaning back, she looked up into his face. “How can I thank you for building my and my mother’s dream house?” she asked, her voice whisper soft.

Devon saw the hint of tears in the hazel depths and pulled her slender frame closer to him. Feeling she needed her spirits lifted, he joked “Your cashier’s check for payment will be thanks enough.”

He was rewarded by the muffled sounds of her laughter where her head was buried in his neck.

∞

Deshawn followed Poochie’s voluptuous figure into the small brick house where she lived with her mother. The interior of the house was cluttered and messy with the stagnant smell of uncirculated air. Clothes were strewn everywhere, and they literally had to walk over them to get to her bedroom.

It was not in any better a state. The sheer curtains at the windows were dingy with old age, and dust layered as a film against the windows. The lilac and pink decor was hidden by the piles of clothes on the rocker and the print rug in the middle of the floor. Dishes with hardened remnants of food were piled on her nightstand.

The room looked like a hurricane had blown through it.

But Deshawn saw none of this as she used an arm to swipe the clothes off her bed to float in the air like confetti before sinking to the floor. His attention was entirely focused on her climbing onto the middle of the bed, not even noticing the dingy sheets.

She smiled and turned onto her knees with her full behind up in the air in his direction, her sneakered feet hanging off the bed. Laughing huskily, she hitched her short jean skirt around her waist, exposing the thin white thong bikini she wore.

Deshawn whistled. “Damn, girl.”

Poochie lowered herself down onto her elbows. Reaching behind her, she lightly patted her buttocks. “Come and get it,” she purred, pulling the thong material to the side with a long taloned finger painted bright fuchsia.

Her idea of foreplay was none at all. Deshawn discovered that the first time he took her to bed, the night of their first date . . . one week ago.

She had blown his mind . . . among other things!

She was younger than he by four years, but in the time since they started cavorting she had taught him a few things in bed, and that was saying a lot. Ah, who knew an ice cube could work such wonders?

Devon had been right to warn him. Poochie did have his nose wide open. The woman was a clawing, scratching, licking, growling tigress in bed ... or in the car ... or on the diner’s kitchen floor.

Chloe was a rare jewel to be treasured and dreamed of, but Poochie . . . well, she was a very soft and very willing reality. Deshawn unzipped his jeans, releasing his hardened member. He didn’t even lower his pants; Poochie liked it that way.

After rolling a latex condom onto his hard length he walked behind her, putting both of his hands on the softness of her derriere and guiding himself into her wetness with one hard thrust from behind. Oh yes, Poochie was his
very
willing and eager reality.

∞

Alicia parked her car behind Chloe’s expensive SUV, tempted to run into the back of it. She knew if she did that she couldn’t afford the repairs if she was discovered, so she withdrew the idea. She walked into the office still boiled with anger from her earlier confrontation with Chloe.

Had she been so obvious with her love for Devon that Chloe had noticed? Who else suspected?

“I hate her,” she muttered as the lunch of roast beef and mashed potatoes threatened to purge. She had to admit that the woman had surprised her with her forthrightness. Never would Alicia have thought that Chloe Bolton had that much spunk. She thought the twig would have really clawed her eyes out!

"Maybe Devon might pay you more attention, if you’d pay some to yourself.”

Alicia pulled out the round compact from her pocketbook, opening it to look at her reflection. She saw what she always saw, surely not as bad as Chloe had put it.

Would she tell Devon?

She could see the woman doing it just out of spite. Alicia knew she couldn’t allow that. Closing the compact, she leaned back in her chair, thinking. What if she went to Devon first and told him Chloe had picked a fight with her and said hateful and spiteful things? Devon’s opinion of the woman should help him believe what she would tell him, plus he was
her
best friend. Surely he would pick her side against that walking skeleton?

Resolved to tell him as soon as possible, Alicia grabbed her purse and left the office. She would go to the site and tell him immediately. Then maybe she’d invite him over for dinner, and well . . . who knows? Tonight might be the night for her to finally make her move on Devon. Waiting for him to do so was driving her insane.

Alicia got into her car and soon was headed left toward Chloe’s house. She pumped the brakes, slowing the car down. Only Devon’s midnight blue truck was parked in the yard. There was no sight of any of the other crew members, not even Deshawn. She then remembered they were rushing to finish the house before schedule, and judging by the bow on the front of the house and the lack of any work being done, they must have accomplished that goal. But they didn’t tell her they would be finished today.

The flash of someone walking by the living room window caught her eye.
Probably Devon,
she thought as she turned her car onto the driveway, the engine of the car loud and grinding.

Another figure walked past the window and she saw that whoever it was, was definitely slimmer in build and slightly shorter than Devon. At first she assumed it was a member of the crew. Who else could it be?

A scream of disbelief froze in Alicia’s throat, and her eyes widened as she slammed on the brakes. Her stiff body jerked forward against the steering wheel. From where her car was, just a few feet away from the house, she could clearly see that it was Devon . . . and Chloe!

And at that moment he was kissing her with the same intensity and fervor that Alicia prayed he would one day show her. She watched them, filled with pain, her hands clutching the steering wheel as Devon unbuttoned Chloe’s dress and lowered his head to capture one of her exposed breasts in his mouth.

Alicia’s throat tightened in raw pain and shock as tears blurred her vision.

Tears of unrequited love.

Tears of pain.

Tears of disbelief.

Tears of embarrassment.

Tears of pure hatred ... for Chloe.

Unable to take any more of seeing her worst fears shown real, she jerked the car into reverse with stiff movements. Her entire body shook, tears streaming down her cheeks. Alicia pulled off down the road at an alarming speed, trying to outrun the scene she just left, but failing miserably. Forever the sight of Chloe in Devon’s arms would be etched, like a hot branding iron, into her memory.

“Maybe Devon might pay you more attention if you’d pay some to yourself.”

Frantically she drove on, having to swerve wildly to miss a dog crossing the road. People she passed turned to watch her with confusion and fear clearly etched on their faces. Angrily, Alicia swiped at the bitter tears that continued to stream down her face. With a squeal of tires she turned the car into her small, dirt-packed yard. She barely turned off the car before she jumped out and ran inside her small cottage house, leaving the car door wide open.

“Maybe Devon might pay you more attention if you’d pay some to yourself.”

Flinging her petite frame onto her bed, she clutched her pillow to her chest and let the bitter tide of tears flow freely. Her moans of agony were muffled as she bit down on the downy mass in frustration.

Maybe it wasn’t Devon but Deshawn,
she thought wildly, searching for an answer. For one brief moment the pain lifted from her chest and the tears eased, until she remembered that Deshawn was involved with Poochie from the diner.

No, she was sure. No matter how much she wished it wasn’t true, it had been
her
Devon with Chloe. The pain swallowed her whole like a tidal wave and the tears built up in the back of her eyes until they stung. “Why, Devon?” she moaned into the pillow. “Why her? Why not me?”

When had it begun?

Why hadn’t she known?

When had his disgust and dislike for Chloe Bolton turned to lust?

And that’s all it was, Alicia knew. Just lust, pure and simple. It was not the love she had for him. Love that still blossomed in her heart.

How she hated that woman.

Why couldn’t she stay in New York? Why did she have to move to Holtsville?

These questions and many more plagued Alicia as late afternoon became early evening. The sun descended from the sky and darkness began to settle around her small cottage. Never once did she move off the bed.

Even now, hours later, as the tears had finally waned and numbness had settled in, the image of Devon and Chloe replayed like a scratched record, over and over and over again. Hatred for the supermodel burned her gut. Her mind worked overtime for a solution on how to get rid of Chloe Bolton.

The phone rang loudly in the darkness of the bedroom. Alicia wanted to ignore it and wallow in her hatred and self-pity, but it continued to ring persistently. Rolling over onto her stomach, she reached for the telephone on the nightstand. “Hello,” she croaked, her voice strained from the tears that had racked her body.

“Hello . . . Alicia? What’s up, girl? You sound like hell!”

Alicia grimaced at how loud Tara, her sister, was talking into the phone. She had a viciously pounding headache and her eyes were swollen and nearly closed with a tight and gritty feel. “I was taking a nap,” she lied. “You woke me up.”

“I just wanted to check up on you. I heard how you were speeding on Willow Lane. They said you looked upset. What’s up?” Tara’s voice was filled with concern for her younger sibling.

Inwardly Alicia groaned. Small-town busy bodies didn’t miss a thing. “Who told you they saw me speeding, Tara?”

“They asked me not to say, and it’s not important anyway. Were you speeding like a bat out of hell?”

“No, they’re lying,” she lied.

Tara was quiet a moment. “Okay, then forget it. I heard Chloe Bolton’s big house is finished. True?”

Alicia’s lips tightened at the mention of her nemesis. Hatred boiled. “Yeah.”

“I know she’ll be pleased. That house makes five of mine!”

Alicia bit her bottom lip. “Yeah she’s pleased, so she can stop complaining about Nana Lil and the twins’ house,” she lied easily, wanting to tarnish the perfect image of Chloe.

“What?!” Tara exclaimed, her voice shrill as she waited for more details.

“I overheard her on the phone with her big-time friends from New York laughing at the house and the people from town.” Alicia’s heart raced as she continued to weave her lies like a vicious and deadly black spider. “I even heard her talking about doing drugs.”