Page 64 of Beautiful Revenge
I shoot him a small smile as I reach out to hold the door. Mel is shuffling in an awkward jog, but Silas is lumbering along like he’s more stuffed than he was last night. He also worked on his base tan today. He’s as red as a lobster.
First day vacationers. There’s always one.
When they reach the doors, Devon pulls me straight to him. My front is plastered to his side and his fingertips are firmly planted on the swell of my ass.
Mel is huffing and puffing with a smile on her face as she takes us in. “You two are as cute as a button.”
Devon doesn’t like being referred to ascuteand lets out an audible exhale. I don’t blame him. There’s not one cute thing on Devon.
Hot? Yes.
Pensive? Absolutely.
A sex god? I’m counting on it.
But not cute.
“Thanks,” I respond for both of us. Devon proves he doesn’t belong in hospitality and remains silent. “How was your excursion?”
Mel points out the obvious. “As you can see, Silas didn’t reapply. Other than that, it was great. What did y’all do today?”
“I had a facial.” I look up at Devon, pat his chest, and smile before turning back to the older couple. “And this guy followed me around like a stalker. The spa was amazing. I recommend you try it before you leave.”
Silas scratches his chest through his shirt. “No one is touching me with this burn.”
Mel rolls her eyes.
Devon stares at the digital numbers that move at the speed of dripping molasses as his fingertips drum restlessly on the swell of my ass.
“We have wine tasting and a cooking lesson tomorrow. We’re going to learn how to make our own pasta,” Mel says. “What about you?”
Silas yawns. “I only eat pasta. I’m sure as hell not making it.”
“Tennis,” I say.
Mel turns to her husband. “If they can play tennis together, you can make pasta with me.”
Devon finally decides to speak. “I don’t play tennis. I’ve got a full day exacting revenge on my enemies.” He presseshis lips to the top of my head. “When I’m done with mine, I’m taking care of hers. ‘Tis the season.”
I cringe.
Silas’s jaw goes slack.
Mel gasps. “Oh, my Lord!”
Devon’s chest moves with a low chuckle. “Kidding ... sort of. It’s a workday for me. Not everyone is on vacation.”
Silas frowns, but Mel barks a high-pitched laugh. “You had me there! Revenge on your enemies. It’s like we’re really taken back to another century.” She directs her sights to me and lowers her voice, like Devon can’t hear what she’s saying. “He’s got an odd sense of humor.”
Thank goodness the bell dings and the elevator stops at their floor.
“See ya around,” Silas mutters.
“Good luck with the tennis,” Mel calls over her shoulder before she raises her voice and yells from the hallway. “And your enemies!”
One more floor, and Devon is dragging me from the elevator and straight to his suite.
We’re through the door when Devon puts a hand to my abs and pushes me against the wall.
