Page 9 of Devil in Disguise
“Well,” she said, snatching the card from him, “let’s go.” And started running.
If you wanted somebody to chase you? You ran.
She heard something from behind her—a laugh or an exclamation or possibly a swear word, and picked up the pace. Not to the elevator. To the stairs. She got the heavy door open and took the steps two at a time, then squeaked as she was swept right off her feet. He had her around the waist, was taking the turn at the landing so fast, her legs swung out to the side, and then the world tipped and she squeaked again, because he’d tossed her right over his shoulder.
Oh, yeah.
She said, “Owen. Put medown.”
He said, “Nope,” gripped her more securely around the thighs, and did his own two-at-a-time stair-climbing around a few more landings. And her heart started beating harder.
She said, “You’re going to get … arrested.” It was surprisingly difficult to talk when you were upside-down and bouncing. “Or I am. I’m wearing athong.”
He stopped climbing. “Seriously?” His hand went up to check it out, which made her jump and gasp. How could that feel sogood?
“Didn’t you even look?” she managed to say.
“I got a flash.”
The blood was rushing to her head. It actually felt good. Stimulating. Exciting. “Well,” she told him, “I’m not bothered about everybody else in the hallway getting a flash, because I don’t live here anymore. Also, they can’t see my face. I bet you’d hate it, though.”
Another exclamation from him, and the world turned right-side up again. He set her on her feet, and she grabbed his arm to steady herself and said, “Oddly … erotic.” And pulled his head down to kiss him.
* * *
It wasn’t likehe’d never had his hand on her ass. He never exactly meant to. His hand just went there, because, well … because a woman’s ass was made like that. To fit your hand. And Dyma’s fit his especially fine.
Something had happened, though, when he’d stroked a hand over bare skin, and not just to him. She’d jumped and tensed up in a way that clearly meant,Touch me some more, because you make me feel so good, I can hardly stand it.
That was why, maybe, the second he got her on her feet again, he was kissing her with no finesse and no holding back. His tongue was in her mouth, and somehow, her legs were wrapped around his waist again, her hands behind his head, pulling him closer. His jacket fell off her shoulders and to the floor, and then she was up against the wall and he’d dropped his hat. He had a hand inside the neckline of her dress and was palming a perfect little breast through a not-very-thick-at-all bra, and she was making some noise deep in her throat.
A metallic sound that he realized belatedly was the fire door opening, and a man’s voice saying, “Whoops. I guess we’ll take the elevator.”
Owen lifted his head, and Dyma pulled it back down and said, “Don’t stop.” Breathless. Excited. A flush on her cheeks, a light in her eyes.
He wanted to carry her down the hall like this. His better self got in there for a minute, though, telling him,Somebody will see. Somebody will talk. We’re probably on a security camera right now.
Too bad his body wasn’t listening to his head. He was up the final stairs to the fourth floor, and then his hand was on the door.
Dyma said, “Your … jacket. Yourhat.”
He hesitated for about half a second. Then he said, “Don’t care.” And opened the door.
Down the hall, his mouth still on hers, holding her up with his left hand on … well, on that bare skin again, right under her dress. Somebody said something, back behind him. Somebody else laughed. He didn’t care.
End of the hall. Door. Grab the keycard from Dyma and use it. Press down on the lever, shove your way inside, hear the door slam shut behind you. He dropped the keycard to the floor instead of putting it on the shelf in the foyer, and set Dyma up there instead.
He needed both hands.
She grabbed for his shoulders but didn’t get any further, because he was still kissing her, and unbuttoning the three little buttons at the front of that dress, too. She had her hands on his own shirt buttons, but he didn’t care about that. His hand was inside her dress, under her bra this time. The bra was pale blue and pretty and not padded, and the silky material slipped over the back of his hand the same way his fingers slid over her skin, both of them made much too fine for a guy like him.
He could feel the response in her like he was already inside her body, and when he got his hands on the straps of her dress and shoved it down to her waist, she moaned and said his name. Her eyes were closed, her head thrown back, her throat exposed, and he kissed her neck, then kissed it better, and thought,If I can’t come inside you tonight, I’m going to explode.
He’d found another piercing. Her belly button was pierced, but he’d known that already. She had a silver ring through it now, but that wasn’t the worst. It was the delicate silver chain attached to that ring that went all the way around her waist, hung with a few tiny jewels.
He wanted to see her wearing nothing but that chain. He wanted her on her back like that, her arms over her head. He could see it right now, and hewantedit.
She moaned again, he started pinching the tightest little pink nipple you could hope to touch and kept his mouth working at the side of her neck, and she sucked in a breath, grabbed his biceps like she wanted to feel them, and said, “Owen.Owen.Do that some more.”
