Overexposed: The Complete Boxset: A Virgin Meets a Bad Boy Romance (5 page)

T
he next morning
, I’m met with an empty bed. It’s easy to pretend it was all just a fantastically real sex dream. Maybe my jaw is only sore from sleeping strangely, not from the thrilling sensation of having Devon’s cock in my mouth. Even if I’m willing to admit to myself that everything between me and Devon was real and tangible, it’s our last day here. I’d be a fool to think it could go further. No, I’m going to chalk it up to a little fling I once had with an irresistible man on the other side of the world.

It would be my first fling, my first dalliance actually, since I’ve only ever had eyes for Eric. He’s been my whole world for as long as I can remember. Our first pretend ceremony took place when I was five and Eric was seven, we were in the Hampton’s and our mothers cooed adoringly over vodka lemonades, congratulating each other over the delightful match. Eric and I were always destined for each other–our names branded on the other since birth.

To distract myself, I move around the room collecting my things. I toss the suitcase on the bed and lay it open so I can quickly fold and pack at the same time. After all of my clothes are properly stored, I walk to the bathroom. I gather all of my beautification products and store them carefully in the travel bag. After placing the travel bag into the suitcase, I remember the vibrator and anal plug still hidden in my bag. That would be quite the shock to whatever security officer might be forced to search me. I tuck those into the inner pocket into a nest of silky panties and lacy bras.

One more cursory glance around the room reveals that I’ve left nothing behind, so I zip up the bag and yank it to the floor. There’s a bittersweet satisfaction to closing the door behind me, as if I’m shutting everything that’s taken place here on the island–including this entire secret double life I’ve been leading as Sierra–tightly behind the closed door. As if this simple action is the answer to moving on.  

The dining room is empty save for the abundance of suitcases and equipment storage containers. Everyone is either indulging in one last breakfast on the veranda or one last walk along the beach. I dish of spoonful of scrambled eggs onto a plate, ad four slices of perfectly crisped bacon, and pour myself a cup of orange juice before finding my way out to the veranda.

Balancing my plate on my knees, I giggle at Zach and Sam’s antics down at the shoreline. I’m thrilled for the two of them, they seem to genuinely make each other happy and I wish for all of the wonderful and amazing things to happen for them. If I had my way, I’d steal them right out from beneath Devon. Too bad I’m quitting the business–I could have used some of their lightheartedness over the years.

Denise makes her way to my side, her forehead furrowed in annoyance. “I’ve got some bad news.”

I turned my full attention to Denise, for the first time really looking at her. Had I been this self-absorbed that I hadn’t noticed her adorable heart-shaped face spattered by freckles. Her thick, crimson hair that seems lit on fire with the sun shining through its strands.

“Sierra, did you hear me?”

“I’m sorry, Denise. My mind wandered, can you repeat that?”

“I just tried to check us all in, and it appears that the day’s flight off the island has been overbooked.” Denise pauses, as if afraid to say the next part. “It seems that we’re going to have to get two volunteers to stay behind until tomorrow.”

“But then they won’t make it home for Thanksgiving,” I answer, my eyes wandering over the happy faces of the crew.

“That’s the bad news,” Denise replies, clearing her throat. “I could try to get a hold of my mom, let her know I can’t make it.”

“No. I’ll stay. You go be with your family.”

Denise’s face fails to mask her surprise, and I can’t help but wonder if I’ve placed her in this position before. “Are you sure?”

Regret blooms heavy in my heart for not taking the time to explore this beautiful island further. Or any other exotic onsite location I’ve ever been to, for that matter. Why have I been so preoccupied with saving money that I’ve ignored all this beauty that has constantly surrounded me? I make a mental note to never take advantage of this blessed life I’ve been giving again.

I nod my head. “I’m absolutely sure. I was just thinking how sad I was that I never got to check out Coral Bay. I should have joined you all when you went exploring every day. I was too busy working on my website and answering emails. I’d love to take the break and not have a schedule to worry about.”

A hint of a smile hovers in the corners of her cupid’s bow of a mouth. “It’s a beautiful island. We’ll still need one more volunteer. Should I ask around?”

“No need,” Devon’s voice surprises us, and I can’t help but wonder how long he’d been standing there. “I volunteer. I’ve been wanting to stay and take some real pictures.”

My heart races with the possibilities. Of being truly alone, here in this house, together. “I guess that’s settled then. Before you leave, do you mind double checking that we can stay another night?”

“Already done, the owner seemed more than happy to take another night's fee,” Denise is quick to answer.

“Well, let me go cart my suitcase back to my room, and I’ll drive you all to the airport.”

Devon follows behind me. “You don’t mind if I tag along, do you?”

A smile flutters across my lips as I grasp the handle of my suitcase. “I’d enjoy the company.”

“Let me do that for you,” Devon says, taking the suitcase from me.

“Thank you.”

With a nod, he turns and heads in the direction of the master suite. My eyes never stray from the strong lines of his back or his firm ass.

A
fter dropping
the eager crew off at the airport, wishing them all a Happy Thanksgiving, Devon and I drive into Coral Bay and park. We head into the heart of the town. My first impulse is to hit the tourist traps, but Devon has other plans. He keeps pulling me down back alleys to snap photos of stray animals, a faded sign, a pile of abandoned trash. We keep walking until we encounter local children riding donkeys, a few are herding goats along the road. Devon transforms before my eyes, gentleness itself while talking to the kids. Showing them his camera, explaining how it works, before finally asking for permission to take their pictures.

The children giggle and beam as Devon captures their adorable faces. He’s lost in the world of his craft, and I finally understand what he’s been trying to explain. I’m also lost in the beauty of the island as seen through the eyes of its youngest occupants. A few of the older girls gather around me, asking a million questions about my clothes and who designed them. Asking if I’m in the movies, because I’m so beautiful. I laugh with them and answer all of their questions to the best of my ability.

Way before I’m ready to leave, Devon extends a hand to pull me to my feet. “Are you in the mood for some food?”

I nod. I turn and bid the girls goodbye, delighted when they all hug me.

“One of the older boys told me we should should drive out to East End and hit up Vie’s Snack Shack,” Devon offers.

“Sounds like a good plan.”

We’re silent on the ten-minute drive to East End, each of us lost in our own thoughts. We pull up to the Snack Shack and a scantily clad woman crosses in front of our Jeep. “You can always go into the oldest profession if your modeling career falls through,” Devon says snidely.

Where in the hell did that just come from? Is that what he really thinks of me, that I’m one step above a prostitute?

I studiously ignore his dig. “Actually, this was my last shoot. It was a sort of goodbye for my fans.”

I have to stifle the giggle that wants to break free as his face registers his shock with a hint of chagrin. Instead, I open the door and step out of the Jeep. He’s quick to follow me, and is silent as we peruse the menu. I order the Garlic Chicken, Johnny Cake drizzled with honey, a local homemade Coconut Tart, and a beer. Devon orders the same, substituting the Coconut Tart for a Pineapple.

We find a seat, and I’ve just taken a bite of chicken when he finally speaks. “So what will you do next?”

I chew my food slowly, taking the time to form my answer. I can’t tell him the whole truth. But I can give a version of the truth. When my mother was still alive, I’d been to plenty of fundraisers and the seed was planted. “I really want to work with charities. The Clean Water Initiative. UNICEF in their quest to provide nets to keep kids from contracting malaria. Even Tom’s–I love that they donate a pair of shoes to someone in need with every purchase. I want to be useful. I’d love anything that would let me help people while traveling at the same time.”

It is actually truer than the life I have planned for myself. Combining those two things are really what I would love to do, if I’d ever dared to ask myself the dangerous question of what
I
actually wanted, instead of what was expected of me.

Devon takes his time chewing and taking a long swallow of his beer, and maybe it’s just my imagination, but it seems like he’s finally seeing the real me and liking her.

He stands and comes to sit beside me. He tilts my chin up toward him, and then his mouth claims mine with a tender ferocity I wasn’t even aware that he possessed. His lips are soft yet demanding, his tongue exploring mine with an expertise that leaves my body aching. And when he fists a handful of dark hair at the base of my neck with just the right amount of force, a moan tries to escape. But he swallows it, savoring the flavor of my sound like it’s a fine wine that has finally hit its peak age. Every square inch of my body is screaming–no, begging–for him to discover the secrets of my skin, the mere thought causing my core to clench and throb with a dull aching need to be filled.

The one thing I’m sure of in this moment, is that Devon Goode is just as enchanted with me as I am with him.

A
fter taking
a long drive around the island, soaking in the all the beauty and gorgeous views this island has to offer, we head back to the beach house.

We linger on the front porch, both of us quiet and unsure.

I clear my throat. “I had a wonderful day with you. It was nice to not have a schedule.”

Devon’s eyes darken as he reaches out to let the strands of my hair run over his fingers. “It was a good day.”

When he makes no moves to initiate something further, I smile. “I’m going to go take a shower and freshen up. Do you want to take one last stroll along the beach after?”

“That’s a good plan,” he answers, his voice low and rumbly. “I think I’ll take a shower too.”

“Should we meet up in an hour?”

Devon nods his head.

I head towards my room, and I’m practically to the door when I notice Devon following me. “Did I forget something?”

“Yes. Me.” Devon’s mouth crashes into mine as he opens the bedroom door. “Shower?”

“Shower.”

I grab my toiletry bag from my suitcase and we move to the bathroom. I turn toward Devon, and allow my eyes to soak in the hard length of his cock straining against the confines of his linen shorts.

The sight of his arousal emboldens me, and I also stand. His smoldering eyes are fixed on me. As if they’re possessed by some outside force, my hands unzip my dress, the light fabric ghosting against my skin as the cool air sends a shiver down my spine. The chill hardens my nipples into sharp points. Devon’s shorts and tee-shirt quickly join the party. It’s shiver inducing to stand there soaking in the sight of each other’s half-naked bodies, our ragged breaths echoing against the tiles.

“I want to fucking fuck you so hard and so thoroughly that you’re not going to be able to walk tomorrow.” He says these things to scare me, but instead they thrill and enthrall. The worship his eyes pay to the voluptuous curves of my body speak the only truth I want to hear. I reach behind and unclasp my bra, dangling the lacy piece of cloth from my fingertips for a moment, before letting it fall into the pile of dress already on the floor. “Your turn.”

In three long strides, I’m back in his arms. His warm mouth nestles against the curve of my neck, teeth nipping at the thin, sensitive skin and I’ve never experienced this delicious pure wanting of anyone so strongly before. “Are you willing to surrender to my control?” His voice vibrates through my chest, weakening my knees with overpowering desire. I’d agree to anything to feel the weight of his body against me, to feel him move between my legs, to have him deep inside me. I nod. “Not good enough, Sierra. I need to hear you say yes.”

“Yes.” My voice is low and hungry to my ears. “Yes, I am yours.”

Devon’s hands dig roughly into my ass, lifting me as if I were light as a feather. I almost pass out as his still clothed cock grinds against the flimsy fabric covering my aching mound. While still holding me securely against his chest, he steps into the shower and turns on the spray. The water is cool on my back, a stark difference to the heat bleeding into my skin from his chest.

I tip my head back into the spray, loving the feeling of the water cascading over my hair combined with the firm grip of his hands on my ass. Devon lowers me and steps back to grab my bag, dipping his hand inside until he retrieves the shampoo, body wash, and loofah.

He set them on the edge of the tub and kneels in front of me, laying scorching kisses against my stomach. His hands settle on my hips, his fingers hooking into my panties and pulling them free, his mouth and hands tracing a blazing path over my skin. When he stands, he strips out of his as well and throws them on the pile of our clothes.

He grabs the shampoo and begins to massage my scalp until the suds are sliding down my soaked body, his strokes turning me into a totally relaxed pool of bliss. Next is the loofah and he takes his time, paying attention to every curve and dip of my body. I’ll never be able to take a shower again without remembering the smoldering sensation of his hands upon me.

Instead of turning me around to wash my back, he pulls me into his chest, his straining cock sliding between my slippery folds. I can’t help but glide along the top of his dick, my pussy standing in place of my hand as I stroked his shaft, riding along the edge, pressing myself at just the right angle so that my clit thrums with the friction.

Devon growls, every last ounce of his self-control shredding as he scoops me back into his arms and carries me back to the bedroom, dripping wet in more ways than one. “What are you fucking doing to me, you little wanton. I can’t even think straight anymore. All I’ve done all day is think about fucking you.”

My hands slid down his back, grabbing his firm ass. “Promises, promises.”

“I’m going to take you, and when you come it will be my name spilling from this perfect mouth.” Devon’s head dips and his tongue licks up my sensitive center, his mouth expertly suckling on my throbbing nub.

I cry out when he adds a finger, hitting that sweet spot inside me with the precision of a sniper.

“I can’t wait. I need to be inside you now. I want to fill you with my come and see it spill out of you, claiming you with my seed.”

Somewhere in the back of my mind, a tiny thread of panic at what I am about to do appears. I feel like I want to fuck him more than I’ve wanted anything in my life, but I know it’s just this moment that’s intoxicating me. I want his dick inside me, pounding me...but he doesn’t even know I’m a virgin. The self-doubt quickly blossoms into the idea that I can have my cake and eat it, too. I groan as he continues to swirl his fingers inside me, my cunt clenching tighter and tighter against him. I have to be quick before I lose my resolve

“Fuck me in the ass, Devon. I’ve never experienced it, and–” I involuntarily pause to gasp again, “It will feel like I’m giving you a part of my virginity.”

“Just your ass?” he asks.

“Just.”

This is still ok. This way I’m still technically a virgin on my wedding night.

Devon’s face morphs with desire. “Do you still have your vibrator? Everyone deserves a little bit of tenderness when having their virginity taken.”

I quickly tell him where to find it and the lube and he’s back faster than I can contemplate my actions.

“Lay on your side. I’m going to try to take this as slow as I can to begin, but then I’m no longer responsible for my actions. Just the thought of fucking your gorgeous ass is enough to drive me crazy.”

His words cause my core to clench and throb with a dull aching need to be filled, stretched, fucked.

Devon hands me the vibrator and then hooks my top leg over his hip. “Touch yourself, make your pussy come.”

The moment the vibrator is rested on my clit, Devon begins to massage my tight ring with deft fingers, his warm mouth nestled again in the hollow of my neck. And when I began to pant with want, he removes his hand and pushes into the tender flesh of my tight passage ever so slowly, pausing long enough for me to relax before pushing in the rest of the way. He releases this noise, halfway between a growl and a groan, and the sound of it quivers and crackles through my body like wildfire.

Wrapping an arm across my stomach, pulling me closer–opening my legs further–he palms and squeezes my breast in his hand.

An unintelligible sound bubbles from my mouth at the perfect fullness of having him stretching me, combining with the waves of vibration pulsing against my ravenous pussy.

With that sound, Devon loses the small finger-hold he had on his self-control. He begins to thrust into me with feral abandon, and the deeper and harder he goes the more I want.

My body responds, awakens, basks in the wicked delight of there being no barriers. Every nerve is alive and bursting, my chest cold, my breath coming in ragged little gasps. My vision starting to darken along the edges, until I fear I’m going to pass out. And yet I still manage to cry out, “Harder, fuck me harder!”

Devon grabs the pillow beneath his head. He flips me onto my back, throws my legs over his shoulders and tucks the pillow under my ass, all while never missing a single stroke. “That’s my dirty girl, you like my hard fucking cock in your fucking ass don’t you?”

“Yes,” I gasp, my entire body trembling with the effort.

My answer spurs him into action, his fingers digging into my hips roughly as he slams into me.

And then there is silence, only me in the night sky, dancing among newly forming galaxies, my fingers trailing along the clusters of stars.

A long moment later, I crash back into my body. To the soreness of my throat as Devon’s name still rips from my mouth. To Devon still hammering his cock into my ass, now chasing his own release. To the aftershocks of the most glorious orgasm I’d ever experienced.

Fingers dig brutally into the flesh of my thighs, as Devon’s body shudders. I nearly come again when I experience the warm spreading burst of him deep inside.

“Sierra,” Devon whispers, his voice breathless.

“Devon,” I answer, a tear slipping from corner of my eye.

Our names hang in the air between us, volumes of things unsaid but known in those syllables.

I
t isn’t until later
, in those hazy moments between sleep and awake, that I hear Devon murmur against my skin. “How am I ever going to survive being away from you.”

It could have been my imagination, but I like to think it was his truth.

T
he next morning
, I awake slowly, stretching like a contented cat in the sunshine. It’s only when I roll over that I notice Devon’s missing. I smile at the thought of finding him. Of giving him my real gift. The thing I've held most precious, laid bare for him to take. To consume. To treasure. To love. I climb out of the bed, and grab my robe. It’s only then that I notice the slip of paper on the vanity.

I sit down hard on the chair, unfolding the letter between my now trembling fingers.

Dear Sierra,

You looked so peaceful, I didn’t want to wake you. I’m sorry I left without saying goodbye, but I have a gig in Poland. It came through yesterday, so I had Denise book me an earlier flight. I will forever remember this shoot and of course you.

With all of my regards,

Devon

I
crumble
the note in my hand.
Well, fuck you too.