Page 83 of 1001 Dark Nights: Bundle Forty-Seven

Slowly, he turned his head to look at her. She sucked in her breath at the gravity in his winter gaze; the storm of emotion threatening to escape. “I’m pleased for him, of course. But this presents a wrinkle I didn’t expect so soon.”

Devon realized the issue immediately. She’d just been in denial.

“Mac is coming home. Which means I’ll be leaving.”

The words fell hard between them. The snowfall picked up in response, and the last bit of light died away, leaving them in shadows. She didn’t know what to say or how to act. She didn’t know how to do anything, so she just nodded and took his hand again, and led him to her home.

They settled Bear in and closed the bedroom door.

She stepped into his arms and he kissed her, and for a while, they forgot the rest and focused on each other.

* * * *

They snuggled deep under the blankets, tangled together. His hand was in her hair. Her lips were pressed to his chest. The musky scent of sex filled the air. Moonlight trickled through the window. He was caught between waking and sleep, more deeply content than he’d ever imagined.

Her voice was whisper soft. “Jameson?”

“Yes, flower girl?”

“Has your heart ever been broken by a woman?”

The pain lanced as sharp as ever, but this time, the memory it left was softer, the edges blurred. He turned over the images in his mind and his body didn’t stiffen up. The wound had begun to close when he wasn’t looking, or maybe Devon had allowed it to heal by showing him something beautiful.

He rubbed the tat with his thumb absently and told the truth. “Yes. It almost destroyed me.”

He heard her sharp intake of breath. It seemed impossible, but she melted into him, as if seeking to give all of her heat and life and emotion to him. “Do you think you’d ever try again?”

The question was fair. Before her, he’d have to give the truth, which was a resounding no. He never wanted to hurt like that again. It had been almost feral, the grief too black and consuming to fight from. The tattoo was his daily reminder.

But it was before he met Devon.

Jameson sensed she waited for his answer with an open mind. They didn’t have much time left with each other before decisions needed to be made. It would be perfectly reasonable for him to simply give her a neutral answer and see what happened between them.

But Devon wouldn’t fall apart if a committed love was something he couldn’t give now. Maybe she’d wait. Maybe she wouldn’t. But he loved the sheer independence of the woman lying beside him. She was strong enough to handle his truth and allow him to lean on her, whether she liked his answer ornot. The women before had run, finding the wait not worth the risk. But Devon gave him a freedom to be who he was without apology.

“I think so,” he said.

The idea of trying to be more with her should have struck terror. Instead, he only felt the stir of possibility. And more.

As if knowing his thoughts, Devon rolled over in one smooth motion and pinned him beneath her. Inch by slow inch, she sinuously slipped down his body, her mouth dropping hot kisses over his bare chest, abs, hips. He hissed out a breath when her breath fluttered over his erection, straining toward her in desperation.

She lifted her gaze to his.

Jameson shuddered. “I think so,” he repeated, staring into her beautiful moss green eyes.

“Then show me,” she whispered, right before she opened her mouth and took him deep inside.

His hand fisted in her hair. With each swipe of her tongue, he died a little. She was a goddess, a witch, a fantasy, as she sucked him hard and tight, then moved her head in a steady rhythm that drove him right to the edge.

She kept him there.

Time stopped. He chanted her name. He fought for control.

Vision blurred, he tugged her up, and watched as she straddled him. With swift motions, she slid on the condom, then sunk down on top of him.

He blistered out a curse. She wriggled her hips, taking him deeper, and arched backwards. Her hair streamed wildly down her back, to her moving hips. He cupped her breasts and watched her ride him, wondering if he’d ever be sane again.

She squeezed his dick so hard and tight he almost lost it, but she felt too good and he didn’t want to rush. A cry broke fromher throat, and he kept his gaze locked on hers, knowing what she needed.

---