Page 33 of She Devil
Things have been pretty intense around here lately.
I watch her stand up—still so graceful and self-assured, even when she’s completely naked—and walk out of the room, her once-neat hair falling down her back in messy tendrils.
God, she’s sexy when she’s messed up.
Even though I’ve come very recently my cock still hardens at the sight of it. It seems my body’s not entirely satisfied with that one quick fuck and is hoping for more.
Much more.
And why shouldn’t I indulge that impulse? It’s clear that both of us were completely into what just happened. And this physical contact is bringing us closer, which will help my strategy to get her to trust me again so she’ll talk.
I pull my stained shorts and T-shirt back on, smiling at the memory of our sexual-tension-fuelled food fight—that had been a lot of fun—and pick up a crossword to do a couple of clues in an attempt to distract myself from the pressing quiet of the room now she’s not in it.
After a few minutes, I throw the paper down and pick up a book I’ve been trying to read—unsuccessfully—since she’s been here. Her presence seems to have fried my brain to the point where I can’t concentrate on anything cerebral for long and I’ve ended up reading the same page over and over again.
But that’s no good either.
I get up, book dangling from my fingers, and pace around the room, staring out of the windows towards the sea, waiting for her to come back.
But she doesn’t.
It’s been at least twenty minutes since she disappeared upstairs. Is she okay? Or is she regretting what happened now? Perhaps she’s embarrassed about crying in front of me. Showing me weakness. Something she’s been so careful not to do for so many years now.
I throw the book back onto the coffee table.The hell with this.I can’t hang around here while she’s up there alone, pulling that hard shell around her again when I’ve only just cracked it open. I’ve worked too hard to get her finally to relax around me to let this opportunity get away from me now.
I make my way upstairs, my mind racing and my body buzzing with a strange kind of nervy energy. What the hell’s making me feel like that? Is it the worry that I’ve not capitalised on the progress I’ve just made and that it might all slip through my fingers from here? We’ve just concluded the agreement I proposed, after all, so she might just try to pin me to it and demand I sign the documents she’s bound to have brought with her, in true April style.
I can’t let that happen, though. I need to distract her. Or make up a new condition.
My heart lurches as I climb the last couple of steps and turn towards the door to the room she’s staying in. To my relief I see it open as I approach and she steps onto the landing and pulls the door closed behind her.
So she was coming back after all.
Relief trickles through me, but a surge of desire quickly takes its place as she turns and spots me, giving me a wide, friendly smile, as if she’s pleased to see me.
She’s changed into a pale-green strapless sundress that stops mid-thigh and showcases her incredible legs. Her hair has been tamed into a neat bun at the base of her neck. She’s put her armour back on, I realise. Exactly what I’d feared she’d do.
I need to get her out of it again as soon as possible.
Striding towards her, I tilt my head in a gesture of concern. ‘Is everything okay? I was worried about you.’
Her smile widens. ‘You were worried about me?’ She seems genuinely touched by this notion.
I push away a wave of unease. That’s how I wanted her to react, so why do I feel so uncomfortable about it? Is it because it makes me happy actually to hear it?
No. I can’t let myself fall down that rabbit hole. This thing between us can’t go anywhere after this. I know how ruthless and self-centred she’s capable of being and I don’t want to put myself in a position where I might have to deal with that again. This is a short-term thing only.
Seeming to read my racing thoughts, she takes a step towards me and cocks a questioning eyebrow.
‘Areyouokay?’
‘Yes, I’m great,’ I say in a casual tone. I can’t let her think for a second that this is unnerving me in any way.
‘So are you satisfied that you can make me come now?’ she murmurs with a wry smile.
‘Fairlysatisfied,’ I say, deadpan.
She raises her eyebrows. ‘Was I not convincing?’ She seems to be genuinely concerned about this. But then this is a woman who hates to be thought of as anything but exceptional in everything she does.
