Devil's Kiss (Sunset Cove #2) (31 page)

“Huh, that’s kind of nice when you put it that way.”

“I can be nice.”

“You weren’t that day,” Derek reminded him. “You were kind of a jackass,
Professor
Devaney.”

“True. You pushed my buttons. It wasn’t until much later that I worked out this pearl of wisdom.”
 

When Derek barked out a quick laugh, Jordan nuzzled into his wide chest and asked, “So,
now
is it time to get naked?”

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

AROUND AN HOUR later, Derek sat on his sleeping bag with a bonfire blazing in front of him on the beach as Jordan rustled through his backpack beside him, searching for God only knew what.

“How much stuff could you possibly have in there? We were only at your place for ten minutes.”

Jordan’s head popped up and he pointed an accusatory finger at Derek. “Listen here. If you expect me to walk to a destination in which I am going to sleep on the
ground
, you best believe that I’m going to pack provisions to get me through the night.”

“Well, unless your bag comes equipped with a magical blow-up king-sized mattress, even your delicate ass is going to be sleeping on my sleeping bag with me.”

Jordan’s eyes shifted to the sleeping bag he’d rolled out and then came back to Derek. “I have no problems with that. Plus, if I get uncomfortable I’ll just lie all over you.”

“Why do I have a feeling you’ll be on top of me either way?”

“Because you’re a smart man and you know that’s exactly the way I like it.”

When Jordan winked, Derek just shook his head. Then he spotted a packet of Oreo cookies in his hand. Jordan and his sweets. The guy didn’t go anywhere without those or— “What is that?”

“This,” Jordan said, as he held up a palm-sized pouch and grinned, “is wine in a pouch.”

“Of course it is.”

“Well, you said we were coming out here for our second date and that you needed to talk and relax, and to me that always includes—”

“Wine and Oreo cookies?”

“Hello, it’s a dessert wine. Something sweet and something to relax the bones…”

“I can think of something else that would relax me just as effectively.”

“I’m sure you can. You have a
very
perverted mind.”
 

Jordan zipped up his bag then stepped over it to come and sit beside him. He offered Derek an Oreo, and when he pulled a face, Jordan screwed his nose up. “I still think you’re a weirdo for not liking the sweet stuff.”

“Well, I like you, so…I’m pretty sure we solidified my weird factor somewhere back in my first semester of college.”

Jordan pulled the chocolate cookie sandwich apart and made an illicit showing of tonguing the cream-filled center before popping the cookie part into his mouth.
 

As he chewed, he nodded, agreeing. “You know. First time I saw you, I wanted to run my tongue over every single one of your tattoos that I could see. Among
other
ill-advised things. God, from the get-go I knew you were trouble.”

Derek faced him, and Jordan shrugged unapologetically. “What? As if you don’t know that by now. It was the first thing I did that night after—”

“The commencement ceremony? I remember. You drove me crazy that night.”

“Mhmm,” Jordan said. “You held out pretty good, all things considered.”

“Pretty good?” Derek said. “I didn’t come until you’d tongued every damn inch of me and your cock was inside massaging my prostate. Considering I’d been fantasizing about you riding me for years, I deserve a fucking medal for not shooting my load the second you traced your finger across my ass.”

Jordan’s mouth hung open after Derek’s little speech, and then he reached between his legs and palmed himself. “Fond memory of yours?”
 

“One of my fucking favorites.”

“Actually, speaking of tattoos that I’ve tongued, you owe me,” Jordan said with a grin.

“How do you figure that?”

“You told me I could run around naked once I got down here, and that you would too if I didn’t complain about how long it took to get here.”

“I hardly think a fifteen-minute walk is too long.”

“Of course you don’t. You run fifty miles a day,” Jordan said as he got to his feet and started to unbuckle his belt.
 

“I don’t run fifty miles.”

When the belt was undone and Jordan’s hands went to the button of his shirt, he paused. “Okay. Twenty?”

Derek leaned back on an elbow and ran his palm up the erection in his pants, as his body prepared to enjoy the show he knew he was about to be the sole audience for. “Try ten.”

Jordan undid each of the buttons on the shirt until he reached the top, and then pulled the fabric off and tossed it over on his bag. “Oh,
only
ten? Piece of cake.”

“Exactly,” Derek agreed as Jordan’s hands moved back down to his pants. “Not a big deal at all. And it’s not like you object to
all
exercise. Look at your body.”

Jordan unzipped his shorts, shoved them to his feet, and then stepped out of them, kicking them in Derek’s direction. “I’d rather
you
look at it.”

Fuck
, he’d get no objections on that. In fact, Derek grabbed the hem of his own shirt and pulled it off, then went for the button of his cargos.
 

Jordan strutted toward him like he was walking a runway, and when he got by Derek’s hip he lowered to his knees and traced his fingers over the colorful patterns marking Derek’s bicep.
 

“I remember that first night like it was yesterday. You took your clothes off and it was like I’d never seen you before, because I was actually allowed to touch you. I was allowed to kiss you. And finally…
God
.” Jordan moaned, as he gripped his cock, giving it a full stroke. “I was finally allowed to
have you. I know it sounds, I don’t know, bad, I suppose. But I’d never wanted it so bad as I wanted it that night with you. I don’t know what it was, or what it
still
is, but everything about you calls to me.” Jordan tilted his head to the side, as though genuinely curious. “How is that possible?”

Derek’s breath hitched when Jordan flattened his free hand on his chest and pushed him down to his back on the sleeping bag.

“I don’t know,” he finally managed. “But trust me. I ask myself daily. We’re such an—”

“Unlikely pair?”

“Yeah.”

“I know. But I don’t care,” Jordan said as he shifted up on his knees and moved to straddle the top of Derek’s thighs. He then parted Derek’s pants so his shaft was visible. “You’re just so sexy,” Jordan said, and trailed his fingers along the underside of Derek’s cock.
 

Derek shut his eyes, trying to keep control of his body as Jordan slowly teased him, but he wasn’t having any of that.
 

“Open your eyes. You know how much I like them on me.”

Derek’s eyes opened, and with the fire dancing behind Jordan and the embers flickering up into the night sky he could’ve very well been the devil himself sitting astride his lap, evoking such carnal reactions.

Derek could feel his ass clenching at the thought of Jordan flipping him over and tunneling inside him. But he also knew from the slow, steady way Jordan was working him that if that were going to happen, it wouldn’t be anytime soon. Maybe not even tonight.
 

“What are you thinking about?” Jordan asked as he drew his fist up to the head of Derek’s dick, twisted his wrist, and then reversed course in a delicious hand job that was making it difficult to think at all.

“I was thinking that… Fuck, Jordan—” he said as Jordan brought his hand to his mouth and licked his palm clean of the pre-cum that was coating it. “I was thinking that you’re the goddamn devil.”

If he’d thought for a second that Jordan would be insulted by the title, he was mistaken.
Oh no,
if anything, a wicked glint of amusement entered those seductive brown eyes, and Jordan leaned down so their cocks rubbed together.
 

“So…not so
posh
after all, huh?”

When he sank his teeth into Derek’s lip hard enough to sting, Derek lifted his head and brought a hand to the back of his head, holding Jordan in place. He speared his tongue deep between Jordan’s lips and kissed the hell out of the guy as Jordan grunted and thrust down on top of him.
 

Derek rolled them to the side until he had Jordan pinned underneath him, and he reveled in the feeling of having his toned body stretched out along his. It was a rare day when Jordan let him get the better of him, and as he lay there panting for breath, Derek knew he’d never seen anyone so breathtaking in all his life. Or someone with such an incorrigible smirk.

“Is there a problem?”

“Yeah,” Derek said. “This is only our second date. And I don’t put out on second dates.”

Jordan’s mouth parted, and he scowled up at him. “You can’t be serious.”

Derek bit the inside of his cheek as to keep his face neutral, and then he glanced down Jordan’s very naked and hard body. When he brought his eyes back to the fiery ones locked on him, he shrugged. “Sorry. I’m just not that kind of boy.”

“You’re not that…” Jordan started, and then stopped as he wound his legs around Derek’s waist and used every ounce of muscle he had to pull him down. It was a valiant effort, and if Derek had wanted to, he could’ve fought him off. But like that was going to happen.
 

He lowered himself down until he was hovering over Jordan and said, “I’m serious. We’re dating now, and last night—”

“Last night you had your mouth all over my cock.”

Jordan was something else when irritated. Derek had thought that from day one, and right now was no different. Naked, spread out beneath him, and pinned to the sleeping bag, Jordan Devaney was still ready to tell him to go and get screwed.

“Maybe I want to try out the other part of your little speech before I let you have my body.”

Jordan adopted a bored look that had Derek kissing him again until he panted. “And what part is that?”
 

Derek shifted off the top of him, and Jordan pinned him with shrewd eyes.
 

“I want to wake up with you.”
 

“You dirty cheat. Using my words against me.”
 

He tugged Jordan to him, and he only put up a token protest before scooting to his other side so he could fit his ass to Derek’s cock.

Derek groaned.

“Serves you right,” Jordan huffed. “And you better keep your hands to yourself.”

“Oh yeah? Or what?”

“Or when you
do
finally decide to put out, I might hold out on you.”

Derek chuckled as he draped a leg over the top of Jordan, and marveled at the way he snuggled back, as if he wanted to be completely surrounded by him.
 

That right there.
That
made everything Derek had been through in life worth it, because there was nowhere on earth he’d rather be.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

FRIDAY ARRIVED BEFORE Derek was ready, and as he drove down his childhood street at a slow crawl, nausea roiled through his gut. He couldn’t believe he was back there—of his own volition.
 

As he navigated his vehicle between the ones parked at the curbside, he saw Finn’s mother’s car and stared longingly at the home he’d once wished was his own. It’d been so great to reconnect with Finn recently, and just like back in the day, Mrs. Finley had welcomed him into her home with a warm smile and a hug.

But he wasn’t on this street today for a hug and a pat on the back,
no
. He was there to do something he never would’ve believed himself capable of years ago. It had taken him weeks to come to terms with the fact that he was
helping
his father, but now that he was there driving down a street that for him ended in hell, he wondered if he’d lost his sanity.

As he pulled to a stop at the curb of his father’s home, he took a moment to try to calm his nerves.
God,
what he wouldn’t do to be anywhere other than there today.

As the engine idled, he tapped his thumb on the steering wheel and counted back from twenty.
 

Just get in and get out. You only have to get through the next few hours and then you can forget about this place
.
 

And therein lay the problem. Knowing that he had to be in the fucker’s presence for even five seconds was what caused the heartburn. Because even though he knew he could leave at any time, it didn’t do shit to help with the fact that he felt obligated to do this in the first fucking place.

After grabbing the keys from the ignition, he made himself get the hell out of the car before he drove away. He marched up the cracked pavement of the concrete path and shook his head at the weeds growing in between them. The two banana trees he and his brother had planted when they were boys swayed in the breeze, causing the large leaves to drag against the once yellow shutters of the classic-style “Conch House.” The paint was chipping off the wooden boards that made up the old shack, and the swing that used to sit invitingly on the porch now hung off one chain—broken.
 

A true representation of the family who’d once lived there.

He hadn’t been back in years, and he’d stopped thinking about the occupants the same day he’d left. That was, until his brother had recently tracked him down.

Wanting to get this over with, he didn’t bother to stop and knock, and instead opened the door and stepped inside. The depressing gloom that greeted him went hand in hand with the familiar stench of cigarettes and alcohol, and when the door shut behind him the walls seemed to close in, making it even more difficult to breathe.

He peered through the haze and shadows to the place where he knew he’d find him, and sure as shit, there was his father. His ass was planted in his beat-up vinyl recliner facing the one window he’d bothered to open for air—passed out.

Fucking hell,
Derek thought, as he walked over the crushed beer cans on the floor. He spotted a pizza box on the counter with the lid askew, lifted it the rest of the way, and cringed. Half the pizza was gone, and the other half was at least a couple days old.