He clears his throat. “Can we talk?”
I lift my head. “I really have nothing to say to you.”
“I spoke to Hayley,” he says quietly.
When I don’t reply, or show any reaction, he continues. “It wasn’t her place to say any of those things to you.”
I shrug like it doesn’t matter either way. I'm not going to show him just how much this hurts.
“Leighton,” he says, his voice pleading.
“What do you want from me, Devon?” I ask, putting the pencil down. I lay the sketch of my mother on the bed, and give him my full attention.
He sits down next to me. “Can I talk?”
“So talk,” I say, staring up at him, keeping my expression blank.
“She has no idea what she's talking about. She had no right.”
I sigh. “That sounds like an issue you need to take up with her, not me.”
“You know what I mean,” he says, running his hands through his hair in frustration.
“No, I don’t. If you and Hayley are having communication problems, then speak to her about them. Now, if you don’t mind, I have a drawing to finish,” I say, looking pointedly at the door.
“I never wanted her like that,” he says, moving closer so he’s right next to me. “I promise.”
I get up to move away from him, needing that space between us. I lift up my hands. “Again, Devon . . . ”
“No, just listen, please,” he says softly, following after me. “I want you more than I've ever wanted anyone. I've always wanted you,” he whispers.
And this is when I snap.
“You want me?” I ask, my voice gaining steel. “Because it sounds to me like just a short few months ago you wanted her more than anything. What did she say? Oh that’s right,” I say, rolling my eyes. “’He wanted us to work so bad.’” I make air quotes with my fingers, drawing out and exaggerating the last two words as much as I can to get my point across. Yes, I know that I’m jealous and feeling just a little bit sorry for myself right now, but I don’t give a fuck.
“It wasn't like that—” he starts, but I continue my rant.
“Now, as much as I like hearing about you ‘making wild passionate love—’” My voice breaks on the last word. He squeezes his eyes shut. Hearing myself say it out loud, acknowledging it, and him not denying it, I can actually feel my heart rip in two. “—to a woman you want so badly but can’t have because she dumped you, I’d rather you all just left me the fuck alone.”
I turn away from him, hiding my expression. He steps up behind me and wraps his arms around me, holding me to his warm chest. I feel his frantic heart beating against my back. I break away from his embrace and turn to face him, my hand flying swinging before I even realize what I'm doing. He grabs my wrist mid-air, and I rip it out of his grasp and deliver that slap straight across his cheek.
“Don't you dare fucking touch me again! You wanted me? You had me, you bastard. You came and went as you pleased, you fucked me whenever you felt like it, then you ignored me, and it fucking hurt, but I let you do it because I knew you had to deal with your hang-ups but you wouldn't even speak to me and tell me what's going on.”
“Do you understand how fucked up that was? You used me and I let you, because I thought we had some cosmic love that could beat all your stupid demons, but you fucking threw me away to jump into a relationship with a woman who didn't even want you back."
At this point, I'm just flat out crying. I hate every tear that I spilled for this man. I fucking despise him for leading me on for so long, only to shatter me like this. Somewhere, deep down, I thought surely he had feelings for me. But it's all been a game, his personal vendetta just because of who I am.
“I gave you everything,” I spit out. “And you just took it out of revenge.”
He hangs his head, and I don’t like seeing him looking defeated, but I’m consumed by hurt. By the need to protect myself from this man who I thought was better than this.
“Oh, God, the laughs you must have gotten from the silly Moore girl, hopelessly pining after Devon Andre. I was so fucking stupid to think—”
“Shut up,” he cuts me off, his words icy. He rushes me until my back hits the wall. His hand lands on my waist, digging into my hip to keep me in place as I squirm to get away from him. “You are not the silly Moore girl. You are smart and beautiful and strong, and the most amazing woman I have ever met, and I fucking hate you for it because it still doesn't change who you are. I knew who you were the first time I laid my eyes on you,” he chokes the words out. “And I've wanted you regardless. I wanted you ever since I knew how to want a woman. You are the worst thing that's ever happened to me.”
His mouth slides down my throat, his warm breath tickling the sensitive skin of my neck, and a shiver runs through my body. That’s all it takes from him; he has such an effect on me, always has. Holding me tight against his body, he talks into my ear.
“I couldn't get you out of my fucking mind. Every living thought I had was stained by you, out there in the darkness, my hands all over your body, your fingers running through my hair, your moans and sighs. I fucking hate you for being my weakness.”
His mouth finds mine, and he bites on my lip, punishing me. “I needed to get you out of my head, out of my heart, out of my soul. You owned me, and I wanted myself back.” His hand tangles in my hair, and he pulls it back harshly, exposing my neck. “I just want myself back,” he ends on a whisper, and then his teeth skim my neck, making my breath hitch.
He trails his mouth up over my throat, his hand making its own way down my stomach, where he finds the button of my jeans and pops it open. He kisses along my jaw as he slides the zipper down, and reaches his hand into my panties. I gasp as his fingers slowly inch down and he slides first one, then two, and starts to explore, thrusting them in and out in a delicious rhythm. He pulls my head back gently and kisses my lips. His hand travels down the side of my face, over my collarbone, between my breasts and down to my stomach, finding its way under my shirt, cupping my breast. I moan as he rubs my clit with his thumb, making me quiver with his probing fingers, and his tongue delves into my mouth, stopping only to bite on my lips. I can feel his arousal pressing into my side, and it turns me on even more knowing that I have this effect on him. I hide my face in his neck, biting gently as the first wave of pleasure hits me. My thighs start shaking and Devon wraps his arm around my back to hold me up. I tear my mouth away from his neck and arch my back into the wall behind me, cursing as the pleasure starts to take over my body.
“Leighton,” Devon growls. I open my eyes and look into his as I ride the climax, his heavy-lidded, burning gaze making me lose myself even more.
He pulls his hand out of my panties and pins me against the wall, sliding my jeans and underwear in one go down my legs and taking my lips in a rough kiss. I wrap my arms around his neck and pull myself up. He grips my ass and lifts me up so I can wrap my legs around him. My hands reach down to work on his pants without breaking our kiss, his lips against mine urgent, as I slide his boxers down with my feet, and then wrap my hand around his thick cock. I start stroking, loving the feel of him. I quicken my pace, feeling his fingers dig into my back, his kisses losing their rhythm. His cock is hard as steel, as I need him inside of me.
He steps back, slipping out of my hand. My feet hit the floor as he grabs for the hem of my shirt and takes it off, letting it fall. Unbuttoning his shirt, he leans down and grabs his wallet from his pant pocket. I lean back against the cool wall, watching as he rips the little foil packet with his white teeth and then uses his hands to sheath his erection.
My stomach flutters and I bite my lip in anticipation, glancing up in time to see him flash me a devilish smile, the first real one since I've been here. My own lips curve into a smile in response, and slowly, he leans in and takes them into another kiss, this time slow and torturous, taking his time to explore every inch of my mouth with his. His tongue tentatively touches mine before he pulls back and pays attention to my lower lip. This man can kiss.