Page 23 of Vendetta

“Doing what?”

“Stuff,” he says, quirking an eyebrow.

“What kinda stuff?” I ask, licking the cheese off my fingers. When he doesn’t reply I look up into his green eyes, concealed by heavy lids. I know that look.

“What?” I ask, taking another slice.

“Hayley will be back in a few days,” he says, shifting on his feet.

“Okay,” I say, because I don't know what else to say. I’m pretty sure he’s insinuating that he’s not going to be around anymore.

“You know that I hate your family, right?” he asks, staring straight at me.

“You don’t hate me, Devon,” I tell him, knowing that it’s true. Devon's been good to me; he hasn’t hurt me once since I've been here. He gets up and starts pacing, running his hands through his inky black hair.

God, he's beautiful.

“No, I don’t hate you, Leighton,” he finally says. “But you should hate me. You will hate me.”

I look down at my piece of pizza, no longer feeling hungry. I put the slice in the box and wipe my hand on the napkin.

“I know George wanted to kill me,” I say. "And you saved me."

His silence is answer enough.

“Can we just pretend? Just for one night?” I ask him. He turns to me as if he's going to cut me down, until he sees the look on my face. His expression softens, and he gives me a slight nod. He sits down next to me and picks up a slice of pizza. I watch as his teeth tear off a bite, and think there is seriously something wrong with me to be turned on by him right now.

We finish eating, and sit on the couch and watch some random TV movie in silence. Devon sips his drink, and I watch his throat as he swallows. My gaze roams down further, to his toned chest peeking out of his black V-neck shirt.

I want him.

Truth be told, it’s not like I’ve had any action since I’ve been here, nor for a while before I was brought here. And my BOB is safely tucked away under my bed at home, gathering dust. I slowly remove my thin sweater, leaving nothing but a tank top underneath. Devon glances away from the TV to watch me. Lust consumes me, making me feel bold. Invincible.

“What are you doing?” he asks, his voice huskier than usual.

“You said we'd pretend,” I say softly, moving closer to him.

“Leighton, fuck, I don’t think...” His eyes are at the hem of my top, where my hands are.

“Don’t think, Devon,” I say, standing up and pulling it over my head, dropping it aside. I walk backwards to my bed and undo the clasp of my bra, letting it dangle on my finger and then fall to the ground. I take my sweatpants off, leaving me in nothing but my panties. When he doesn’t say anything, doesn’t tell me to stop, I sit down on the bed and watch him.

The heat in Devon’s gaze, the intensity in his expression makes me feel like I’m the sexiest girl in the world. He stands up slowly, and walks over to me, his eyes still connected with mine. He gets down on his knees, so his face is almost level with mine. I watch as he takes his fill of me, a soft curse escaping his lips as his gaze touches my breasts.

“I don’t want you,” he says hoarsely, but there’s no fight left in his voice. My breathing hitches as I wait for him to finally touch me.

I don’t dare speak. Putting my palm on his cheek, I decide to make the first move since he won’t. Bringing his face closer to my body, I gasp when his tongue finally peeps out and slowly traces over one nipple, and I know that he’s decided to give in. He pulls my nipple into his mouth, sucking gently, and then running his teeth over it. I squirm under his touch, wanting more.

His mouth releases its torturous hold on my breast and trails wet kisses up my chest, my shoulder and my neck. By the time he reaches my mouth, I can feel how damp my panties are, and my thighs are trembling. He swipes his tongue across my lips, begging entrance. He kisses me hungrily, delving into my mouth, tasting me. He pushes me back onto the bed with the force of his body, grinding his hips into mine. I feel his erection pressing into me, and it gets me even more excited. Grasping my wrists in his hand, Devon lifts my hands above my head andpresses them into the mattress. His other hand traces from my temple, over my cheek and jawline, and finally rests on my neck. Pulling his mouth away, he rests his forehead against mine, his breathing as heavy as my own.

“I don’t fucking want you,” he says desperately.

“Devon,” I gasp out when he starts slowly moving against me, our clothes the only barrier between us. He instantly jumps away from me, his expression closing off. He throws a disgusted glance my way as he stands up and takes two steps back, leaving me bare and vulnerable.

Then he turns his back on me and leaves.

7

DEVON

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