High Passion

CHAPTER 18

He didn’t care that they were on the front path to his parents’. Didn’t care that a dozen people could be gawking out the windows at them this minute; in fact, he hoped they were. Hoped they were watching and wishing they had the kind of life that involved a woman like Alisha. Her fire rolled over him and softened all the aching spots inside he’d had clutched like a fist for the past couple of hours.

Her heated lips over his became something to focus on rather than his frustration. The solid weight of her body pressed tight to his anchored him.

The slick of her tongue slowed slightly as she explored, her hands stroking his shoulder muscles while those incredible legs squeezed him tight enough to promise all manner of wicked things.

He took the offer. Accepted it. After years training together and moments in the field where life was on the line, they’d learned to speak a silent language. A nearly instant assessment of imminent danger and life-stealing hurts. They both knew there was a give and take of necessity and importance. The person who needed the most was provided for first, brought to aid, attended and cared for. Right now she gave and he took, and it was exactly what he needed.

Once the initial flare burned down, he cupped her face and pulled them apart, far enough so he could look her in the eyes. “Thank you.”

“Please tell me we can go home. You’ve done more than your share of family duty time, and I’d really like to work off some of my frustrations. So either we go hiking or we find a place to fuck until we can’t walk.”

“How about both. At the same time if we could,” he teased.

She slipped down his body but caught his hands in hers, this time tugging him to the side to admire the horses that had arrived at the fence line. “You never told me a lot of things.”

“What’s to tell?”

Alisha stroked the mare’s nose, confidence in her touch, and Devon relaxed. He should have known she hadn’t been kidding about being able to deal with horses.

“You’ve got the same shitty attitudes here as I have with my parents. None of them think you’re good enough. That your job is a real job.”

“One huge difference, though. No one laid an arbitrary deadline on me like they did to you.” Devon shrugged. “After a while, I figured changing their minds would take more effort than I was willing to give. They work me over good at holidays, and the rest of the time they’re, well, more subtle. It’s not worth throwing a snit over.”

“It still sucks,” Alisha corrected him. “They might not have someone they expect you to marry . . .” When he didn’t answer right away but instead stared off into space, she glared at him. “Tell me they don’t have a girl picked out for you.”

His laughter sounded sour in his ears. “They would have, but anyone who was on the list ran screaming when I registered for the Banff SAR School. Mountain bums aren’t hot commodities in most circles. I mean, we’re pretty to look at, and fun to play with, but not to keep.”

He should have kept his mouth shut and gone on kissing her. That would have stopped her from hearing the bitterness that washed his words.

Alisha slipped her fingers around his forearm, her strong grip holding him in place as she made eye contact. Her wide eyes had turned storm grey. “You get dumped by someone, Devon?”

“Old news is old news, Alisha.”

She rested her head on his shoulder. “I was right. It sucks, doesn’t it?”

Yeah, but it was a long time ago, and he’d moved on. “I can’t base my life on teenage disappointments, or the expectations of my family. I’m doing what I want, and I’m damn good at it. That’s what counts.”

“Still sucks,” Alisha said.

And she was right.

They made their good-byes, escaping from the house without much fuss while all his siblings were busy with the family stuff. He drove them as far as the trailhead to the falls, stripping off his dress shirt in the parking lot and exchanging it for a T-shirt from his gear bag.

Alisha glanced around the parking lot. She slid beside him on the driver’s side and pulled her dress over her head.

Thong. Bra. Heels. All hot red. Devon blinked hard.

“Jesus, what are you doing?” Devon stepped forward, plenty distracted from his earlier anger.

She cupped herself briefly before reaching around and pulling off her bra. “Getting changed.”

His tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth. “This is a public parking lot,” he noted.

“I’ll be quick.” She stripped off her panties and stood naked except for the heels she wore.

He caught his cock and squeezed it in warning. “I am so making you wear that when we get home.”

She dimpled a smile, then dressed quickly, covering her goose bumps, but not doing a damn thing to help ease his erection.

Sadly, Alisha also switched her footwear for more practical runners. Then she held out a hand and he accepted it, the idea of storming down the trail to rid himself of the rest of his frustrations vanishing as she slipped into a more thoughtful mood.

The trail was wide enough that walking hand in hand was easy, and her fingers were warm in his. They strolled without saying anything for the longest time, the cool October air sweeping around them as the sun rushed too quickly toward the western mountains.

They passed a couple of groups out hiking, all headed to the parking lot. “That’s the last of the cars accounted for,” Alisha pointed out. “We’re officially alone in the wilderness.”

He nodded, the leaves underfoot crackling loudly in the quiet of the bush. “It suits, right? Last one off the trail, last one to retreat.”

They reached the railing that guarded the overlook, and he stared into the swirling waters, mind twisting with snippets of conversation from the past hours. His brothers’ suggestions, his sisters’ well-meaning but dismissive attitudes. His parents’ determined noninterference that could far too easily be construed as agreement with his siblings’ opinions.

Facing them all hadn’t been as bad with Alisha there, although now that they’d experienced it, he realized that bringing her along to dinner hadn’t been fair. He’d used her as a diversion, but what she’d had to endure had been uncalled for.

He twisted toward her, grateful when she curled up against him, a bundle of warmth with arms.

“I shouldn’t have hauled you into that,” he apologized. “You’ve got your own family drama, although mine is nothing as bad as yours.”

Alisha dug her fingers into his sides. “Stop making everything into a contest. Besides, that’s one I really would prefer not to win.”

He stroked her hair, dragging his fingers through it again and again as if he were rubbing worry beads. “The good part is I know what we’re doing is valuable. Their lack of regard doesn’t change facts. I don’t need their approval to keep myself focused and sharp, because Lifeline makes a difference, and I want to be a part of it.”

“You’re preaching to the choir.” Alisha slid her hands forward and jerked his T-shirt free from his jeans. She abandoned her gloves, dropping them to the ground so she could skim her soft fingers up his abdomen.

He laughed and braced himself to stop from twitching away. “Glad I could help warm your hands.”

She rubbed lightly, the chill vanishing as his body heat transferred to her palms. “You’ll be doubly glad in a minute,” she promised.

When she put her nails to his skin and dragged lightly, he hummed in approval. When the button of his fly snapped open, he glanced down. “What are you up to?”

Alisha tugged his zipper down, her innocent smile taunting him. “Giving you something to be thankful for.”

Oh hell, yeah. Like he was going to argue. He rested his hips on the railing and widened his stance. Alisha reached in and drew out his cock, the length thickening in her palm. She pumped slowly, rubbing her thumb over the crest on each pull, and his brain partially shut down. All the areas dealing with troubles and family judgment, at least. Those were shunted away behind a DO NOT DISTURB sign as pleasure rocked the main sections of his mind.

Alisha leaned over and licked him, the contrast of the cool air and her hot mouth making his vision blur. He pulled her hair out of the way to watch those perfect lips wrap around his dick as she sucked him in.

His involuntary hiss of pleasure was enough reward, at least to begin with. Alisha twirled her tongue over the crest again and again. Getting him wet enough that her lips slipped easily over his length. Her fist held tight to the root of his shaft allowed her to bob over him without going deep enough to choke. Deep enough to drive him wild, though, if the steady stream of words he muttered were an indication.

“Yes. Fuck, right there. So fucking good.”

He stroked his knuckles over her cheek and Alisha smiled, pausing her motion to apply more suction.

“Don’t stop, baby. It feels incredible. Looks fantastic, too.” He slipped his finger along the seam between her lips and his thick shaft. She darted her tongue out and licked before going back to tormenting him. “So beautiful and hot.”

She’d been waiting for this moment. Wanting it. Alisha found a comfortable position on her knees, lifted her eyes to his, and let herself relax. Devon stroked her cheek again, then added his other hand to her head, firmly positioning her. He tilted his pelvis and stroked in, setting the pace. The depth. The speed.

Slow. So slow, his cock sliding almost all the way out of her mouth, the heavy head resting on her lower lip.

“Lick it,” he growled.

She closed her eyes and snuck out her tongue, tasting the salty seed on the crest, playing gently with the slit. A slow circle around the head made him groan and added to her pleasure.

He hadn’t touched her and she was wet, an aching need in her core. Giving to him turned her on immensely, and while she wanted to slip a hand into her pants and get herself off, this was more important. This was what she wanted most.

Devon pushed deep, all the way to the back of her throat. Alisha remained still, the thick length filling her mouth. He pulled away and pumped slowly, shorter strokes now, even, measured. Nearly popping free before pressing forward with determined consistency.

The restraint was there, the determined, iron-fisted control he used during rescues and obviously when dealing with his family.

She wanted him to lose control. Wanted him to let go of the restraint and use her as he needed, but even as he took his pleasure, there was never a moment when she didn’t feel he was aware of her. Of what she was giving.

Alisha looked into his face, and the tight pleasure there made her happy and sad at the same time. What she wanted so much was to be in charge of her life. Of her situations. Why right now did it feel wrong to have Devon treating her so cautiously?

She lifted her hands to his wrists and he withdrew instantly, the hard length of his cock glistening in the fading sunlight.

“You okay?” The concern in his voice was so apparent. The focused attention. Miles away from him being an out-of-control, sexually boggled male.

It wasn’t okay. It wasn’t what she wanted, or what he needed. Alisha took a deep breath and let her concerns out, not caring if they sounded stupid. “I’m not breakable,” she whispered. “Fuck my mouth. Be rough if you need to. I’m here for you. I’m willing . . .”

He took a moment, staring seriously into her face. “I didn’t want to hurt you.”

She shook her head. “You won’t. I trust you.”

God. His expression changed. The fear and sadness. The tension and discomfort. All of it faded away, and he nodded.

His gaze darted over her face as he adjusted his stance. Slipped his hand into her hair and tightened his fingers slightly.

The movement pulled her hair, and she couldn’t stop her moan of satisfaction. This. This was what she wanted.

“Jesus. You’re going to fucking kill me.” Devon swallowed hard, his fingers wrapped around his cock as he stroked a couple of times. “You want me to stop, tap out.”

“I will, but I’m not going to stop. I want this, Devon. Now, shut up, and stick your fucking dick in my mouth before I go crazy.”

His lips twisted into a smile. “Potty mouth.”

“What you going to do about it? You don’t have any soap,” Alisha taunted.

His eyes darkened as his pupils widened. “I have something better on hand.”

All hesitation vanished. Devon used her hair as an anchor to tilt her head. It wasn’t a violent motion, but this time there was no doubt Alisha was no longer in control. He pressed the fat head of his cock against her closed lips.

“Open.”

He didn’t wait for her to obey but pressed forward, the crown slipping between her lips as he thrust to the root, his groin meeting her nose. He pulled back instantly, but the difference in his touch was there. Every motion bolder, more aggressive. Full strokes that left Alisha dizzy and tingling. A network of excitement spread over her as if he had found a way to share the tension building in his body as his climax rushed forward.

Devon closed his eyes and shuddered, and the first spurt hit her tongue. He pulled her head forward as he thrust deep, and she swallowed around the head, dragging a cry from his lips as he shook, fingers tugging her hair.

He held so tightly she couldn’t have moved if she’d tried, and his slow withdrawal was perfect, tension in his hands, his body, all carrying to her and showing she’d made an impact.

He gentled then, stroking the hair from her face. Smoothing his knuckles over her cheek. Lifting her to her feet and draping her against him.

They stood silently as his breathing evened out and he regained his balance. The rush of mixed emotions flooding her was confusing, and strange.

She wanted to be in control. To be appreciated for being capable and strong. She wanted Devon to take her in the most primitive and forceful ways possible.

Two sides of a coin that she had no idea how to balance.