Between Us (The Renegade Saints #3) (14 page)

“Tell that to my stomach,” Ian mutters sickly. “I’m really sorry I just freaked out—”

I’m surprised when Cole bends down and puts his hand on Ian’s shoulder.

“Don’t worry about it,” he instructs. “You should hear some of the crap I’ve said when I was feeling shitty.”

Setting his head on the rim of the toilet seat, Ian lets out a groan. As he does, Cole rises and comes to stand back at my side.

“I think I just had a panic attack and you’re way too fucking nice considering what an asshole I just was,” Ian says. “I fucked everything up because I’m freaking the fuck out like a little bitch. I think I am attracted to you,” he admits.

My eyes immediately fly to Cole’s face to see his reaction. It doesn’t look as though he’s even a little bit surprised by Ian’s confession. I’m a bit more surprised. After Ian’s meltdown in the game room, I thought for sure he was never going to cop to it at all.

“But,” Ian continues, “I’m not okay with it and I don’t know if I ever will be.”

Cole stares at Ian in silence for a few seconds, likely formulating a response.

“We should talk about this when you’re sober and not about to pray to the porcelain god,” he says finally.

I hold back a laugh as Ian lets out a groan.

“Ugh,” he groans. “I’m not sure I’m going to puke. I normally don’t but the way my stomach is churning, I want to.”

“Been there,” Cole replies.

“Me too,” I murmur. “Can I get you anything?”

Lifting his head from the toilet seat, Ian looks at me. Even on the verge of vomiting, he’s still incredibly handsome. If it were me on the floor, I’m positive I’d look like ten miles of rough road.

“Can I have two pieces of bread and some kind of clear soda, if there is any?”

“On it,” Cole answers before leaving the room.

When he comes back with the bread and a can of ginger ale, we both stand watch over Ian as he slowly eats the bread and sips at the soda. After about ten minutes, he gets to his feet and says he’s fairly certain he isn’t going to be throwing up.

“But,” he says bashfully, “I am going to need to crash in one of your guest rooms, if the offer still stands.”

Assuring him it did, Cole took him to a guest room. At Ian’s request, I ran out to his car and grabbed his gym bag for him, so he would have clean clothes to change into in the morning. Once back in the house, I found the guest room easily enough, and Cole and I worked together to get Ian into bed. When Ian came out of the bathroom clad only in his form fitting boxer briefs, I stifled a groan. He looked like a male model and his body was a ten, for sure.

Once we got him into the bed and covered up, and after he’d apologized a dozen more times for the things he said, he pretty much passed right out.

L
eaving Ian to sleep it off, Devon and I walk into the hallway. Closing the bedroom door behind me, I turn and look at her.

“Will you stay?”

“Don’t worry about me—”

Reaching out, I set my hand on her waist and pull her toward me.

“That’s not why I’m asking,” I assure her. “I just…don’t want you to go. I’m not talking about sex—not yet—but I want you in my bed.”

My pulse picks up when she leans into me and lifts her face so our eyes meet.

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah,” I reply.

“I want to be in your bed,” she admits. “So yes, I’ll stay.”

I didn’t realize how anxious I was for her answer until she gave it to me.

“I need to text Lana and let her know I’m not coming home. Not that she probably is, either,” she sighs. “My phone is down in the game room. Can we go there first?”

I take a step back before linking our hands together and then head for the game room. While she gets her phone, I grab bags of chips and M&M’s from my bar. Dinner has long since worn off and I’m a little hungry, which means she probably is, too. On the way up to my room she texts Lana to let her know she’s spending the night. Lana’s response makes Devon snort, and I take a peek down at her phone before she presses the button to make the screen go dark. All I see is the word sandwich. This whole time I thought Lana just really liked sandwiches, but maybe she’s actually nuts.

When we get to my room and I open the door, I feel an attack of nerves hitting me. I’ve never brought just one person to my room. Ever. I need to tread carefully here, need a plan. I don’t do one on one, but what does that really mean?

I’m fascinated by Devon’s reaction as she looks around my room and takes it all in. Turning back to me, she grins.

“I don’t know how you function in a room this tiny,” she jokes.

The damn thing is the size of a city. It’s more than fifteen hundred square feet of unfuckinreal. Aside from the sleep area, there’s a colossal master bathroom and a massive sitting area.

“I do my best,” I quip.

A glance at the clock confirms it’s still relatively early.

“You wanna watch a movie over there on the couch?”

The couch is a navy blue monstrosity that could seat up to eight people. Overkill to have in a bedroom? Damn right. Comfortable as fuck? It’s really the only way to describe it.

Kicking off her white platform heels, Devon heads for the couch. Throwing herself down on the enormous chaise portion, she smiles up at me. I try not to focus much on the smooth skin of her legs or her sexy red pedicure. When her skirt was bunched up around her waist earlier, I caught a glimpse of white lace panties and almost vapor-locked. If Ian hadn’t shown up when he had, I’d probably have fucked her right then and there.

“What have you got for us to watch?”

I force myself to focus on the present as I walk to the couch, grabbing my smart pad as I do. With the touch of a few buttons, the TV goes on and the floor to ceiling DVD storage on either side of the set open. Handing the pad off to Devon, I laugh.

“All the DVDs are listed alphabetically in there. They’re also listed separately by category, if you’d rather. What are you in the mood for?”

She’s all but buzzing with excitement. “This,” she tells me, “is the dream. I’ve needed to alphabetize my collection forever, but I never get to it.”

“It’s one of the perks of having assistants,” I admit. “I’d love to say I did it, but I so don’t have the patience to carry out this level of organization.”

She scrolls through the DVD list intently, smiling and making comments as she does.

“If you’ve seen all of these, you like the same stuff I do,” she muses. “Are you in the mood for anything in particular?”

Yes. Her legs over my shoulders while I eat her pussy until she screams.

“I want whatever you want,” I assure her.

She lets out a
hmm
and goes back to scrolling.

“So you’re good with
Big Wet Tits
, then?”

I scramble forward so fast you’d think someone just lit my ass on fire.

“Holy shit!
They put my fucking porn in there
?”

She wiggles her brows playfully and bursts out laughing. “I totally just got you,” she declares triumphantly.

I may or may not have just had a minor stroke. Kicking off my shoes, I dive onto the couch and grab her. She shrieks out a laugh when I start to tickle her. Her body undulates against mine as she giggles hysterically while trying to shimmy away.

“Uncle, uncle,” she squeaks.

I’m laughing so hard it hurts, so I stop tickling and look at her with what I know is an enormous shit-eating grin.

Which promptly fades when I realize I’m cradled between her thighs and my hands are holding either side of her waist. I inhale sharply, causing the lavender and peppermint scent of her to hit me like a two by four. Her eyes flare as she stares at me and licks her lips.

Game.

Fucking.

On.

I reach out and thread a hand into her hair before pulling her to me. Our lips are separated by a fraction of an inch.

“I’m going to kiss you,” I tell her huskily.

“I’m going to let—”

I cut her off with a swipe of my tongue against her ruby red lips. Her small inhalation is all I need. Sealing our lips together, I do what I’ve wanted to do since the moment I laid eyes on her.

I’m not kissing her to pass the time or as a prelude to a fuck. I’m kissing her because I fucking
have to
in order to continue to function. Right now I have no goddamn idea how I lasted this long. My intent here is to claim her—but as my tongue meets hers, a flashing neon sign in my brain is alerting me that I’m being claimed, too.

I make a half-hearted attempt to move and sever the connection, just as Devon’s hand lands on the back of my neck to pull me in closer. It’s like I can’t stop myself from giving her what she wants—what we
both
want. We aren’t so much kissing as we are setting the room on fire. She’s melted into me so completely, it’s like we’re one person. Eventually, I have no choice but to end the kiss. It’s either that or we’re both going to pass out from lack of oxygen. It would be a hell of a way to go, but I’m selfish enough to want more.

Even though I had the wherewithal to break the kiss, there’s not a fucking hope in hell of me being able to let her go right now. It’s just not going to happen. Holding either side of her face, I stare at her in wonder. I have to admit, I’m feeling pretty awesome about her flushed cheeks and rapid breathing. It’s damn good to know I’m not the only one so thoroughly affected. I’ve known she was going to be different—but what just happened was so much more than I ever bargained for.

Letting go of my neck, she brings her right hand to my lips before proceeding to trace them.

“Wow,” she sighs breathily. “You get a gold medal in kissing, Mr. Hayes.”

“Yeah?”

“So much yeah,” she purrs.

“
You
brought the gold,” I respond.

“I want more,” she whispers. “So much more.”

I open my mouth to respond, but my planned words quickly become a growl as she squeezes her thighs and arches against me. I’m back on her in an instant, my lips covering hers as our tongues slide against each other. The air in the room is thick with sexual tension, and I give in to it as I grind against her. My dick is like a heat seeking missile, begging for entry in the hottest part of her.

My blood pumps like fire in my veins when she rocks back against me, again and again. I haven’t dry humped in years—possibly as far back as junior high—but with Devon, I’d do it every fucking day for eternity. Kissing her harder, I grip her hips and angle her so that I’m perfectly positioned to thrust against her.

Tearing her mouth from mine, she lets out a wail.

“Please, oh God,” she begs. “Cole!”

I want to fuck her right now more than I want to continue breathing. I grab at her dress in desperation, wrenching it up around her waist. I growl when I set eyes on the sexy as fuck creamy lace panties I saw earlier. I want to fuck—hard—but first, I want to feel her hot pussy against my tongue. I need to make her come.