High Passion

CHAPTER 10

Sandwiches were consumed, soup vanished. Small talk led to another round of sweaty, inventive sex, followed by another—why had she turned Devon down for so long?

Playboy. Notch on the bedpost.

Alisha stretched naked on the sheets, head toward the foot of the bed, her hand bumping his thigh. All of her previous excuses had melted away in the flood of desire and need he’d begun in her. Okay, this wasn’t for forever anyway, and she was using him as much as he was using her.

In the big scheme of things, she was good with it.

Devon caught her hand as she trickled her fingers up his thigh, stopping her before she could touch anything important. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but we need to take a break.”

She laughed. “Poor baby, did I work you over too hard?”

He pivoted her until they were lying side by side in the same direction. “When a sixty-nine makes me nearly pass out, I’d say I was low on fuel, or something. I will admit defeat if you tell me you want me to start something new.”

She played her hands over his shoulders, just because she could. “No, not really. I’m pretty happy right now.”

His blue eyes watched her every move. “I’m game for more later, but at some point we need to get out of bed.”

“Hmm, I suppose.” The sex was damn good, though. “Getting out of bed means returning to reality.”

Devon trapped her fingers against his chest. “This was no sexual wet dream, Alisha. It happened. All afternoon, it happened.”

“I don’t think I’ve had that many orgasms in a day since . . . well, ever.” His gloating expression prompted her to smack him lightly on the chest. “Ego much?”

“Hey, you said it, not me.” Devon turned more serious. “This isn’t a onetime deal. I want more of you.”

She wanted more of him, so that wasn’t the trouble. Only there were lines, concerns she had, and not addressing them would be stupid. “You said it earlier. We’re going to spend more time together in the next while than usual. I don’t mind a bit of extracurricular activity thrown in with that.”

He nodded but still looked strangely somber. He didn’t say anything else, though, and she was glad.

Sex had changed things. She needed time and space to raise the walls in a new manner. Before, when she’d been denying what their bodies wanted, it had been simpler to keep everything on the “do not touch” side of her brain.

Now that he’d slipped under her physical barrier, she needed to consider what other secrets she was willing to drop.

Her phone rang, the musical tones making them both jerk. When his phone didn’t go off as well, relief hit hard.

Devon chuckled as she scrambled to grab her phone from the bottom of her bag. “We’re going to have to be careful not to fuck each other out of rescue commission.”

She put her finger to her lips to shush him before answering the call. It was impossible to look away as he sat on the mattress and watched her, the muscles of his abdomen bunched into a nice, solid six-pack. His cock far from flaccid—did the man ever lose his semi? Her voice sounded breathless, even to her. “Hello.”

“Alisha.”

Oh, shit. Vincent. All the lovely sexual endorphins floating through her system scurried away. She’d totally forgotten his invitation to dinner. She ignored the question in Devon’s eyes and turned away, stepping toward the bathroom for privacy. “Hi, Vincent.”

“I’ve made reservations at the main dining room. I’ll pick you up in thirty minutes.”

She scrambled to jerk her brain online to deal with this. “I’m really tired. Maybe we should—”

He laughed, the sound creating a far different response than Devon’s. Rather than making her want to join in, the condescension put her back up. A doting older relative putting up with a wayward child, even though that comparison was wrong in about fifty ways. “You still need to eat.”

She longed to tell him to fuck off, but her hands were tied, and not in a good way. “The Banff Springs is not a place you go simply to refuel, Vincent.”

“If you have somewhere else you’d prefer, please, let me know. I can be accommodating.”

Oh hell. She stared into the bathroom mirror, the love bites on her neck and body making her scramble for a towel to cover herself even though he was on the phone and had no idea what she’d been up to. Perhaps the best way to get rid of him was to give in this once. Get it over with. He couldn’t be staying around town for long. “No, that’s fine. But I’ll join you there. I need to do a few things on my way.”

“I don’t mind stopping.”

“No, this is easier,” she insisted. She glanced quickly at her phone for the time. Damn, she’d never find a way to get ready in thirty minutes. “Only, could you move the reservation to seven, please?”

“Of course, sweetheart. Use valet parking. I’ll meet you at the doors.” He hung up with no further comment, obviously not expecting her to do anything but agree with his directions.

An hour.

An hour to get home, find a dress that would cover the very vivid marks of her and Devon’s thorough sexing, not to mention putting on enough makeup to cover the ravages from her recent sleepless nights.

The bathroom door opened, and Devon glanced in cautiously. “Is it safe?”

She held the top of the towel with one hand and shrugged. “Come in. Sorry. No time for a lengthy ‘you scrub my back and I’ll scrub yours.’ I have to go.”

Devon nodded, leaning his shoulder on the door frame. “Hot date?”

He repeated his words from the previous day. They were as annoying now as they’d been before.

“No,” she snapped, frustration making her response sharper than she’d intended. Devon didn’t move. Didn’t ask any more questions, he only looked plenty. She sighed and joined him, catching the waist of his sweats and leaning in close. “Vincent works with my father. His family and mine are old friends, and I can’t just blow him off.”

Devon tucked his fingers under her chin, lightly stroking his thumb over her cheek. “You don’t need to explain, but you don’t seem too thrilled.”

“I’m not.” For so, so many reasons. “But in the interest of keeping the peace, I should go.”

He stared for a moment, then nodded. “Feel free to grab a shower here if you want.”

He left the room, and all the oxygen seemed to suck out after him.

Shit.

She followed him into the bedroom, but he was gone. Tugging on her clothes, finding her socks—all of it strange and far more awkward than she’d expected. She pulled her backpack over her shoulder and fisted her keys, bracing herself to say good-bye.

He was in the kitchen, barefoot and bare chested. She wavered for a moment, almost ready to toss the plans with Vincent out the window, but . . . she couldn’t. “Hey, I’ll call you tomorrow. Dream up crazy things for me to do, okay?”

He looked up, dropping the Tupperware container in his hand to the counter and striding to her side. “I’ll be good and assume you didn’t mean that in a sexual way.”

She grinned before she realized he was still staring at her with an unreadable expression.

Devon nodded. “I’ll do some research tonight. See what I can find.”

“Thanks.”

Awkward. Teenage-crush awkward. With the tension between them now it was hard to believe he’d fucked her against the wall only hours earlier.

Devon snarled in frustration. “What the hell.”

He grabbed her and laid another kiss on her, his body tight to hers, their lips crushed together. Every second that passed meant she’d have to rush more later, but she couldn’t break away. Couldn’t let go of where she’d caught him, her fingers fisted in his hair.

Devon was the one who jerked them apart, his grin firmly in place. “I hope you have a lovely dinner.”

Her body buzzed from the kiss. From all the things he’d done to her bounding through her memory like the Energizer bunny on aphrodisiacs. “I expect the food to be wonderful and the company to suck, thank you.”

He turned her to the door and let her out, patting her ass as she walked past. “You need anything, call, okay?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Call,” he repeated. “Tomorrow, tonight, I don’t give a damn when. If you need me, let me know.”

When she glanced up from the wheel, he was standing in the entrance of his house, watching her. She forced herself to wave before directing her car into the lane and heading for home.

The sight of Alisha driving away drew a frustrated sigh from him. In one massive swoop, all his admittedly dirty plans for the evening were wiped away. Hanging out by himself at home wasn’t high on the agenda. Devon slammed the fridge door hard enough that everything in the kitchen rattled.

It wasn’t as if he had expected her to instantly start living in his pocket. But after seeing no guys in her life for so long, now someone showed up? Now there was some rich friend of the family who appeared out of nowhere to take her to one of the most expensive places in town?

Fuck that.

He took some time to research possible scenarios to put her through. Only there wasn’t much he could find online, and he wasn’t about to go asking questions in real life because with the climbing community, anything he said would be common knowledge within twenty-four hours, and speculation would begin.

He wondered how long it would be until everyone knew he and Alisha had finally hooked up.

A snort of derision escaped him. Well, no one would suspect anything tonight, not with her gallivanting around town with Vincent.

Bloody hell, he was sitting and pouting like some hard-done-by virgin. There was no need for it. He could go out and grouch instead of staying in and being miserable. May as well spread the joy to his friends. He sent off a text, then headed to change. Distraction was the best solution, and he had plenty of people who could help him in the distraction department.

The familiar noise of the Rose and Crown crowd greeted his ears like a cheerful hello. Devon raced up the stairs, waving at a few people without stopping as he sauntered past the restaurant tables. He headed all the way to the back where his buddy Luke already held sway over a pool table. A group of women had gathered around the small, standing-only table to the right, and his name was shouted quickly enough to soothe his bruised ego.

“You on call tonight?” Kyle asked. Luke’s twin brother raised a glass and the pitcher of stout in a question.

Even if he were, he could have one drink. But tonight? “Fill it and keep it full.”

Kyle dipped his head and went to work, passing over a glass with a fine head of foam. “We weren’t sure you’d surfaced yet. Saw in the paper you had another successful rescue the other day.”

Devon took a good long drink before wiping his mouth and putting his glass aside. “That’s not a secret, but why exactly are you talking so loud?”

Kyle twisted his back and pointed slyly toward the ladies. “New to town. You can have your pick, but I get the redhead,” he whispered.

“You know what?” Devon slapped Kyle on the shoulder. “You’re a dick. You can have the redhead and all the rest. I’m not interested.”

Kyle gave him the eye. “You running a fever or something?”

He shook his head and grabbed a pool cue. “Nope. Just want a few games, is all.”

“Well, me, too,” Kyle protested.

“Not those types of games.” His buddy flashed a smirk, and Devon forced a laugh. It wasn’t as amusing as usual. He didn’t enjoy fawning women, but he disliked even more that he was being used by his supposed friends. “Fine, trade on my good name if you can’t get pussy any other way, but I’m good for tonight.”

His friend saluted, then strolled over to the table with a greeting for the ladies. Devon hid his annoyance and paced over to talk to Luke instead.

“The mighty hero has decided to grace us with his presence.” Luke tilted the mouth of his bottle at Devon. “I almost didn’t recognize you without your superhero suit.”

“Fuck you, too,” Devon said blandly. “What are we playing tonight?”

“Nothing serious. Had a hell of a day, so it was nice to hear you could join us.”

They racked up the balls and fell into an easy camaraderie. It was damn annoying how often he reached to check his phone to make sure it was still on. In case Alisha decided to call him.

Pathetic.

Kyle soon had the ladies smiling, joining in around the table and generally getting in the way. Luke took his shots with one arm around the woman who’d picked him out. Devon had to work like a maniac to avoid the clutches of the brunette who insisted he should teach her to play.

The arrival of his Lifeline teammates had never been so welcome, even if it seemed strange to see Lana as a part of the group. Devon acknowledged their wave before handing his pool cue to the pouting brunette. “You can take over my spot. Gotta chat with the team for a bit.”

“I could get you a drink,” she offered, pressing her breasts against him before he backed out of groping range.

“Thanks. I’m good.” He twisted away, ignoring the woman. He gave Luke a frustrated glance before descending on Xavier and Lana. “Tell me you’ve got room to hide me.”

“Awww, are the dulcet darlings on the prowl again?” Xavier slid behind the table and shrugged. “No objections from me. Tripp’s joining us in about an hour—Lana wanted to do the wing thing, and I said I’d show her around.”

Devon waved at one of the servers to get their attention. “The wing addiction already reared its head, did it?” he teased.

“I fought valiantly as long as I could, but some cravings are too strong to be denied.” Lana sighed dramatically before grinning at him. “Only, if I’m going down, I’m taking the lot of you with me.”

“It’s an honest way to go.” Devon ordered a round. His phone vibrated in his pocket and he scrambled to pull it out. It wasn’t Alisha’s number on the screen, but his sister’s. He offered a quick apology to Xavier and Lana, then turned to the side to answer it. “I thought I’d made this number unlisted. Damn, how did you find me?”

His sister’s familiar laugh carried over the line. “You’ll never escape. Face it, little boy, we have ways to track you down.”

Devon accepted a glass from Xavier. “What’s up? I can’t talk right now.”

“Short and sweet. Two weeks from now you’re expected for Thanksgiving dinner on Sunday. I’ll be nice—you don’t have to bring anything if you bring a girl.” Sandy hummed. “Or, if you plan on showing up solo again? Check the list of wines Dad posted on the family Facebook page. Shouldn’t set you back too much.”

The constant taunting from his siblings to grow up, get a real job, and find a one and only hadn’t diminished over the years. Gotten worse, in fact, as they’d partnered off with true loves and started producing a copious number of rug rats. He loved his family, he really did, but there was no way he was bowing to the god of marital bliss even if they had all fallen victim.

It was his life, dammit. None of them seemed to have realized that yet. To them, he was still the little boy. The one who couldn’t figure out what needed to be done.

The one who couldn’t be trusted.

Frustration washed over him before inspiration hit hard enough to brighten the bleak prospect of an extended family dinner. This time he might pull one over, especially if it meant not having to put out for the outrageously expensive wines his father liked to try at holiday dinners.

He pictured Alisha’s bright smile and the way she could work a room. The woman was seriously talented when it came to public speaking—he bet he could persuade her to come home with him and pacify them all. “I’ll raise the stakes. I bring a woman to face the lot of you, and you have to make pecan pie.”

Sandy paused. “You’re not serious. Are you seeing someone?”

Devon didn’t comment. “You set the rules. I’ll talk to you in a couple days. Gotta run. Later.” He hung up feeling damn good about the possibility of hanging out with Alisha and pulling a fast one on his perfect family.

Beer and wings had arrived, and the look of ecstasy on Lana’s face as she licked the sauce off her fingers brought a reluctant smile to his face.

She moaned happily, slipping her tongue over her lips. “Whoever came up with the idea of coating wings in sauce should be canonized. My mouth is in heaven.”

“It was probably someone in the heart and stroke profession.” Xavier leaned in and nudged the basket of teriyaki closer. “Try these. They’re my favourite.”

She pulled one out, chatting easily with Xavier as the paramedic slowly decreased the distance between them until he was right next to her. Devon watched in amusement as Tripp arrived, and Xavier took total advantage of adjusting the chairs to place Lana’s within crowding distance.

Lana smiled and flirted, her cheeks brightening as the evening continued. She twisted toward Devon, a huge grin shining out. “I like working with Lifeline. Three hot guys to hang out with in the evenings? I could get used to this.”

She bumped her water glass and it tipped toward Devon. He caught it before it completely went down, about half the water sloshing over the table edge and into his lap. He swore under his breath but kept his smile in place.

“I’m so sorry.” She had her hands in his lap, mopping up the moisture with her napkin.

Devon caught her wrists, pulling her fingers off his groin and back to the top of the table. “No harm done. It’s only water.”

“Good thing it wasn’t the beer,” Tripp teased before changing the subject. “Lana, tell us about yourself. Marcus introduced you and all, but I don’t remember him saying specifically where else you’ve worked?”

She gave Devon another apologetic glance before facing Tripp. “I was on a few volunteer search-and-rescue squads before I went to school. Haven’t been able to find a full-time team yet, so I thought doing the call-out desk for Lifeline would be a good change of pace. I can still be involved in an active group and maybe . . .”

Xavier nodded knowingly, glancing at Devon and Tripp. “Maybe get a shot at joining the team down the road?”

Lana hid behind her glass for a moment. She lowered it, smiling brightly. “Well, not right off, you know. You’re a pretty amazing act. I need to do a lot more training to match your skill levels.”

“If you ever want to join in, let us know,” Xavier offered.

Devon resisted giving Xavier a kick under the table. Not only was Xav pushing it way too hard to try and impress Lana, now he was dragging the rest of the team into it? Like hell. She might have been hired for call-out duties, but that was a far cry from working a rescue. He already had Alisha to double-check on for a bit; he didn’t need to babysit anyone else.

Unfortunately, Lana latched on to the suggestion like Velcro. “Anytime. I’m available, and I’d love to join you.”

Tripp was making peculiar faces. Devon had to look away to avoid bursting out laughing. Instead he tried to turn the conversation to more generic topics than the meet-up times and workout suggestions Lana pushed forward in an attempt to pin them down.

Xavier topped up everyone’s glass. “Important topic of discussion. I want to know. If Erin is getting a bigger bird, what equipment improvements are we getting?”

“My vote is for a hot tub at HQ. Or maybe a flat screen,” Tripp said.

“For what? You want to hang around HQ and watch movies?” Devon shook his head. “Get a life.”

Tripp lifted a wing and shook it at Devon. “I heard a rumour Marcus was considering setting up housing for us. Now tell me you wouldn’t enjoy that as a bonus? Rent-free living.”

“Hell, no.” Devon shook his head. “Maybe the price is right, but I already train with you, eat with you, and hang out in the evenings with you when I can’t find anything better to do. Why would I want to sleep with you as well?” Not to mention that would totally make the current list of activities he wanted to go through with Alisha a hell of a lot harder.

“You’re afraid that you’ll have to stop hauling home all the women.”

Good grief. “Yeah, I use a bucket truck to scoop them up on a daily basis. Give it a rest, guys.”

“I’m sure you don’t,” Lana objected on his behalf. “You’re a type of shining prince in knightly armour. The kind to sweep the princess off her dragon and kiss her until she falls asleep.”

Devon blinked in confusion, attempting to sort out her words. He peeked at Tripp, who had his jaw slightly open, eyeing Lana with distrust.

Sometime in the past couple of minutes everyone had shifted positions, and instead of having plenty of room beside him, Lana was right there, her thigh tight to his. She’d been watching the banter, her gaze darting back and forth.

Devon spotted the empty glass about the same moment Lana laid her hand on his thigh, out of sight of the guys. God, the woman obviously couldn’t handle her alcohol. He grabbed her wrist, again, and lowered it to her lap, quickly bringing his hands above the table.

Fortunately, no one else noticed. Xavier laughed at her confusing statement. “That sounds like a mash-up of TV tropes. Perfect.”

The instant Lana’s hand touched down again, Devon shot out of his chair. “Well, thanks for the company. I think I’ll be going.”

He really didn’t want to spend his night fending off someone he had no interest in. As a distraction, the evening had been good on a temporary basis. Other than that, it had turned into a reminder that he’d have much preferred to spend the time with Alisha, in bed or out of it.

He’d enjoyed the sex, he’d admit that, but he also liked her. Strange how easy that was to confess now, when he’d had a steady offering of no-strings hookups running rampant around him.

Tripp waved him off. “See you in the next couple days?”

Devon nodded, not ready to make specific training plans in case Lana took it as an invitation. She was tipsy enough to either not notice or take more offense than she should. Xavier had her laughing madly about something, and Devon took the chance to point at her secretly. Tripp rolled his eyes but nodded. She’d be babysat, but not by him this time, thank God.

On his way out of the bar he had to dodge three more groups of women whom he’d turned down or not dated in the past while.

What a damn mess. Women everywhere, except for the one he was truly interested in. And she was busy being wined and dined by her not-hot date.

The temptation to go and casually stroll through the Banff Springs was huge, but he didn’t need to add pitiful to his evening. Devon gave up and headed home, a gut full of unexplained irritation swirling inside next to a lot of sexual frustration.

The best thing that could happen tonight would be to get called out on a rescue.