Page 95 of Beautiful Revenge
The last twenty-four hours have been too much.
Who am I kidding?
My entire year has been too much.
Gun shots, a visit from Janie, and my dad waking up for the first time in months means my brain is on overload. I can’t even think about how my conversation with Allen Foster felt off. Not liking someone because they don’t do business the way I do is one thing. But assuming he doesn’t want the best for my father is not something I could have imagined.
If I’m overreacting, I’ll take my lumps and reinstate every bit of access he had. But I’m done assuming everyone around me wants the best for me and my family.
Money makes people do scary, ugly things.
I’m exhausted but also wired and all I want is to forget the rest of the world.
Especially when there’s nothing in front of me but broody and sexy blue eyes.
I rock forward and press into his cock that’s not a bulge anymore. I feel it. Devon’s want and need matches mine. He’s long and rock hard, and I rub my clit up and down his length through his trousers.
He slides his fingers into the straps of my thong over my ass. I lose his blue eyes when he presses his lips to the skin below my ear. I feel every word he utters down to the tips of my toes. “I want you so fucking bad, baby.”
I glance toward the cockpit. The door is shut, and the pilots rarely enter the cabin. I turn back to Devon and run my fingertips down his skin where his collar is open at the neck. “I’ve never had sex on a plane.”
His eyes flare. “Not gonna lie. I’m happy about that.”
“Have you?” I demand.
The corners of his lips pull into a smirk. “No. But I’m still glad you haven’t.”
“Oh.” I relax until his fingers start to work the buttons on my dress.
One by one, he makes quick work of them until it hangs completely open. His eyes rake down my body, his gaze tangible on my heated skin. When he starts to touch me, hedoesn’t waste any time. One flick of his fingers, and the clasp between my breasts goes slack. He pushes the lace away at the same time the pads of his thumbs drag across my hardened nipples.
My eyes fall shut, and I rock onto his cock again.
I open my eyes when I feel the delicious pinch of each nipple. “Are we doing this, baby?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
GOOD GIRL
Harlow
As the moments pass, I care less and less about who’s on the other side of that cockpit door or that they could walk through it at any moment. I arch my back and press into him as he continues to torture my nipples, going from a barely-there touch to a pinch and back again. “There’s something about you, Devon.”
His hold on me drags south, his hands grip my hips as he presses into me where I want it most—my clit that’s aching for him. “What is it about me?”
My breath is heavy in my chest. I forget about everything but him. “You make me feel safe. I haven’t felt that way in a long time.”
As he pulls in a breath so deep, his wide chest expands further. One hand slides around to my ass the other heads straight for my sex where he hooks a finger into the gusset of my panties. When he slides his finger through me where I want it most, I’m wet and slick against his touch.
A moan slips from my lips.
His stare heats on me. “After yesterday, I’m more determined than ever to keep that promise, baby. I don’t just mean from bullets and exes and stepmoms. I mean this.”
I rock against his touch. It feels so good. I neverwant this to end. “You’ve become an escape. The longer I’m here, I never want to go back to wherever I was.”
His gaze drags down my body and lands on my sex. He turns his hand and slides two fingers inside me, cupping me possessively and never looking away.
“Never expected this,” he says in a low, gritty tone. “I came to America for no other reason than to bury myself in work because I was so fucking miserable. I wanted to forget about the life that was taken from me. Your wedding came around and I thought I’d have to deal with a pain-in-the-ass bride for a few days. And I wound up here.”
