Page 5 of Devious Whims

“Disgusting. And I’ve had my fair share of questionable food,” Devon says, his tone flat.

I let out a small uncomfortable laugh. Not only at the tension building between them again but the reminder of where he was just released from. Thankfully, the waitress comes up to the table and collects our orders. It allows us to fall into a more pleasant silence when she walks away.

Mike clears his throat, sitting up straight in the booth. “So, Devon. I know it’s going to be a few weeks of an adjustment, but any idea on what you want to do now that you’re free?”

Devon’s tattooed fingers trace a line on the table, his gaze downcast as we wait for his answer. Then he lifts his eyes to mine, the muscle of his jaw ticcing once before he moves his attention to my husband. His tongue rolls over his bottom lip in a slow swipe. “Just taking it a day at a time.”

I put my hand on Mike’s arm, forcing a smile onto my face. “And that’s perfectly fine. Take all the time you want.”

His eyes drop to where I’m touching Mike, and he swallows before leaning back and looking out into the diner. I remove my hand slowly, twisting my fingers into my lap.

“Right, right. That’s not what I was getting at,” Mike says, scratching the back of his neck and then sighing. “Cami is home all day, and she has a bunch of projects that keep piling up. I figured with another man in the house, you could help tackle them. Only if you want, of course.”

My mouth slacks open, and I’m about to scold Mike for the way he just dropped this on him. But Devon turns back to us with a raised eyebrow. “I’d do anything for Cami.”

A cold fire burns in my chest, sending a shiver down my spine and hardening my nipples. I shift in my seat, clenching my thighs together.

Mike launches into a rambling explanation of some of the projects we have. I keep my attention on the food that’s eventually set in front of us. Devon is cordial enough to respond in small head nods and grunts as my husband carries on the conversation while we all finish and leave.

The car ride home is silent. Every time I glance into the mirror, Devon’s attention is stuck out the window. But I can feel his presence, the overwhelming aura of being near me. It fries my nerves, leaving me constantly tense as if I’m waiting for something to happen. Not that I think he’ll tell Mike outright what we did on our phone calls, but I can’t help feeling guilty and as if Devon is angry at me.

When we pull into our street, a line creases his forehead as he takes in the houses. It’s a relatively new neighborhood, the collection of houses was all built at once. They’re modest, and even if Devon and I lived a nicer life when we were younger, I’m proud of what Mike and I purchased.

Mike pulls into our driveway and parks. I hurry out of the car, my stomach a ball of nerves. Devon climbs out last, his observant gaze taking everything in with a stoic expression. He pulls his bag closer to his chest before looking down at where I’m still standing.

“Can I give you a tour and show you your room?”

“Shit,” Mike says, glaring down at his phone. He waves it towards me. “Gotta call work real fast. I’ll catch up with you guys.” He’s already dialing as he walks to the side yard for privacy.

I bite the inside of my lip and glance back up at Devon.

“Just the two of us then,” he says, his lips twitching at the corner as if he’s withholding a smirk.

Nervous laughter bubbles out of my throat, and my cheeks heat with a small blush. “Your room?”

Devon nods, stepping close enough that my arm prickles with the heat of his body. He leans down and whispers in my ear, “Go ahead and show me the bed I’m going to fuck you in.”

My chest caves in as I exhale a shaky breath. I step away from him, ignoring the heat coursing at the apex of my thighs. “Behave.”

Devon’s face lights up with a wicked smile. “Never.”

Devon

Stretching, I sit up in bed, unfamiliar with the soft mattress and silky blue sheets. I blink, remembering that I’m a free man now. And I fell asleep mere feet from the woman I’m obsessed with. The morning light is bright, glaring through the slitted blinds, and I smile, enjoying the warmth of the sun for a moment.

I missed a lot of things while locked up, and I’m determined not to waste any time now that I’m out. Getting off the bed, I move to the dresser and my lips curl at the stacks of shirts and sweats inside. Her husband might have been surprised, but I knew my girl had been preparing for my release. I change and head downstairs, unused to the silence of the house.

Her humming gets louder the closer I get to the kitchen, and my heart skips a beat. I hope she’s alone in there since her husband occupied all her time last night. I couldn’t blame him because if the situation was reversed, I would have killed him the moment we picked him up.

She’s standing in front of the stove, her white dress with blue flowers scattered all over it is loose around her hips, and my mouth waters at the thought of pulling it up. The string tied around her back tells me she has an apron on over it, and suddenly I’m consumed with the idea of stripping her entirely and only leaving the apron.

I come up behind her silently, my hands sliding down her waist and wrapping around her stomach.

“Oh!” She startles, then breathes out. “Devon.”

My nose presses against her hair, inhaling her scent and committing it to memory. My cock hardens against her ass as I take in the heavy fragrance of some kind of fruity-coconut. She squirms against my hold and leans forward to flip over a pancake in the pan.

“I’m making breakfast,” she says, but doesn’t scold me to let go of her. My hands roam over her form, familiarizing myself with the shape of her. She’s no longer a gangly sixteen-year-old, but a woman who has filled out with generous curves. I haven't allowed her to visit me the entire time, preferring to wait for the moment we could be together physically. When she told me she got married a few years ago, I was initially furious, but I knew she was still mine at the end of the day.

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