Page 31 of Devil
She set the paper down and picked up her tea. Wrapping her hands around it, she inhaled the light jasmine scent before taking a tentative sip.
“So it’s not a smoking gun, then,” he said, although his tone told her he hadn’t really thought it was.
“Not unless we know what drug, or virus, or bacteria, it applies to. But if we find out, it would be good supporting evidence to show premeditation if Pritchard and the other women have something planned.”
They sat in silence for a few more minutes, each sipping their drink. The thought crossed her mind that this was a night of firsts. It was the first time she’d held a man’s hand while walking, and now it was the first time she’d really relaxed in a man’s home.
“You’re looking pensive,” Darius said.
She shot him a smile. “Just relaxing. Well, as much as I can in this dress.”
“I have a pair of sweats,” he offered again.
Slipping into his clothes didn’t sound as weird as she thought it should, but as she considered it, she realized the only thing she wanted to do with her clothing was take it off. Maybe shecoulddo the friends-with-benefits thing Darius had talked about? She’d never given that kind of relationship any thought because she’d never met anyone that she both wanted to spend time with and wanted naked. But would Darius be happy with that? She didn’t think so, not based on the way he’d talked about his family. He was the kind of man who wasmeantto have a family. And he’d be great at it—he’d be a great husband and an amazing father. She, on the other hand, had no desire to be either a wife or a mother.
Not that that was what he was asking for.
Her mind caught on that thought. Hehadn’tasked for anything more from her. He’d only mentioned friends with benefits. Maybe she should give him the respect of taking him at his word. The respect of not trying to guess, or place on him her own assumptions.
Darius set his mug down on the coffee table, and the sound drew her attention to him. He had an ankle resting on one knee, one arm stretched across the back of the couch. His gaze was fixed on her, as if he could hear her inner debate.
Setting her own mug down, she hitched up her dress, brought her other leg up onto the couch and moved so she was inches away from him. On her knees, she slipped his coat off and set it down behind her. His jaw tightened and his fingers jerked, as if needing to touch her, but he remained still.
“When you asked about the friends with benefits, were you offering?” she asked. She both needed to hear his clear answerandcommunicate that was all she was offering him.
He lifted the hand that had been resting on the couch and drew his fingers along her bare arm.
“Yes, but I have one condition.”
She found herself holding her breath, hoping it wasn’t something she couldn’t agree to. “That is?”
“It’s monogamous,” he said. “If we’re sleeping together, then neither of us is sleeping with anyone else. And if, at any point, one of us wants to change that, then we end thisbeforewe move on to someone else.”
She didn’t like the idea of him moving on to someone else, but that was something she’d think about some other time. As for the condition itself, it was one she could live with. She was a thirty-eight-year-old woman and she’d had her fair share of partners, but she’d never been one to be indiscriminate. Granted, what she and Darius were discussing was entirely new to her. Not once in her life had she spent more than one night—or a few hours—with a man. Maybe she’d want out, but she doubted that if she did, it would be because she wanted to be with someone else.
Placing a hand on his knee, she urged his crossed leg down. When he had both feet on the ground, she slid a leg over his thighs and straddled him. Her dress pooled over her skin in a gentle whisper. Once again, her hands came to his chest, and his spread across her lower back. The feel of his palms and his fingers stretched across her back was more seductive than anything she’d experienced. It didn’t make any sense; he wasn’t even moving. But desire, strength, and confidence—and maybe even a little possessiveness—flowed off him, wrapping around her like a potent sort of drug.
She leaned forward, her breasts brushing against his chest, until their lips were separated by a hairbreadth. “I’ve never done a friends-with-benefits kind of thing,” she whispered.
One of his hands traced a line up her spine, then wrapped around her neck. “Do you agree to my condition?”
The raw and honest desire she saw in his eyes gave her pause, then she nodded.
“I need the words, Lily,” he demanded. She started to lean forward, to close the gap between them, but the hand on her neck stilled her. “Words, Lily.”
Something other than desire filled his eyes, something demanding and uncompromising. She could fight him on this; she was nearly certain she could convince him he didn’t need the words. But somehow, that held no appeal to her. Her unequivocal consentmeantsomething to him. And she didn’t want to be the kind of person who would tempt him away from his principles just because she felt like it. She didn’t want to treat this like a game.
“I agree.” The words were barely out of her mouth when his lips covered hers. Devil sank into him, not at all surprised by the fact that Commander Darius Washington knew—really knew—how to kiss.
How long they stayed that way, learning each other, easing into this new thing between them, Devil didn’t know. When she finally pulled back enough to look into his eyes, though, she was more than ready to continue their mutual education.
Slowing her breath and soaking up the feel of his body hot and hard under hers, she drew back even farther. As she did, he lowered his hand to her thigh, now bare from where the fabric had parted. Reaching up, she undid the tiny button at the back of her neck that held the top of her dress together. Then she watched Darius’s eyes darken and his nostrils flare as it fell to her hips, leaving her chest exposed.
Her body responded to Darius’s attention, and even though she wasn’t the most well-endowed woman, her nipples all but reached out and begged for his touch. Beneath her, she felt his own reaction.
He stared for a long minute before finally raising his eyes. “You’re stunning, you know that, right?”
A flash of discomfort moved through her. He wouldn’t know, but she hated that kind of comment. It was one of the traits her parents listed whenever they tried to marry her off. She was beautiful, poised, educated, and wealthy, and came from a prominent family. What more could a man want? And of course, it never mattered what she wanted.
