(Complete) Devil In The Waters, Book 2, Chapter 12 (Patreon)

The head of his cock was large enough to strain the muscles of her jaw as she opened wide. There was a click in her left ear, and with only a shallow mouthful her teeth already dragged his skin. He was too large to suck. She did what she could. Her grip stroked, coming up high to gather the wet from her mouth, swirling her head and gently bobbing. Her tongue worked, flattening against the swollen swooping topside shape of his large cock head. While she did, Devlin worked farther down the fly of his pants and his underwear, revealing even more of his manhood. Without the underwear’s waistband scoring near the base of his shaft, he now looked truly huge. A bare naked cock, long, thick, uncovered from large swollen tip to big sagging balls.

Her hand stroked fully while she sucked. Up to her mouth, gathering saliva, stroking down, every fifth time going low enough to cup his heavy hanging testicles. The more she sucked, the more his scrotum tightened, two large balls hugged up against the wide hull of his huge cock.

She pleasured him as best she could, closing off her mind to the awful act she did. It was sequestered; two people in private, just a bit of fun. Everybody messes around . . . 

Devlin shushed her suddenly, his hand releasing the grip on her hair and cupping the back of her head—not trying to push her throat down onto him, not to stab his massive cock deeper into her face—he guided her against his belly until her ear flattened on his hard hairy stomach. She could hear his heartbeat, feel his pulse against her tongue. She made a questioning sound, her mouth still around his cock. He shushed her again, and now she raised her eyes, detected movement out the side driver side window.

She hissed a surprised sound, tugged her head off him, her ear scratching along his muscle, and him pulling her up to hold her against his chest.

“Shit,” she hissed, looking out the window.

Devlin chuckled and grumbled, smoothed his hand down the back of her neck, and over her shoulder. Still he chuckled. It wasn’t the car next to them where there was movement. Two down, taller than the cars, it was a minivan, two people, one getting in each side. There was a man on the far side, a woman nearer to them. A couple she recognized from the gym. Enough to say hello, though she didn’t know their names. Maybe in their fifties, the woman sometimes showed up at yoga, the guy did elliptical and the treadmill, and she’d see him on the weight machines every once in a while too. They were making plans for a dinner party. Saying Well, so-and-so won’t come, because they don’t like Bruce . . . Now Kimmy was chuckling too, hiding away, having to hug herself flat against Devlin. He reached forward, cuddling her in his lap for a second, cranking a seat lever and sliding it all the way back now. They were out of view, both of them having to peep and spy the couple getting in their minivan.

He said, “The windows are tinted. They can’t see us . . .”

“I kind of know them,” she said.

“Should I knock on the glass, see if they want to say hi?”

“Oh, I don’t think you want to do that,” she said, sneaking her hand between his legs and giving his balls a threatening squeeze. They both snickered. She said, “Why are we whispering and laughing quiet?”

“Kimmy doesn’t want to get caught,” he said, and his hand went from her shoulder down her rib cage, over her rump. The tights were still tugged down, her ass bare, and Devlin slipped his hand underneath. She leaned forward, her hand coming up to hold his cock, her face near the window. The older gym couple got in the vehicle and clunked their doors closed.

Devlin slid two fingers inside her again, getting her to gasp, then began pleasuring her while she slowly jerked him. The minivan’s headlights came on, lighting up long spotlights on the grassy barrier. “God,” he said, “your friends are taking forever.”

She pushed her butt back, wanting his fingers inside her saying, “They can take their time if you’re doing this.”

“You’re so wet,” he said, and he wasn’t kidding. She could feel it now, overflowing. What the hell had happened when she came? It was like she’d ejaculated. Her insides had gushed. It seemed like the liquid was still coming. “Mm, God,” she sighed, I think I’m going to come again.”

“Let’s get you there.”

“Why are they taking so long?” she grunted, eyes narrowed to thin lines, wet warbling her vision. At last, the headlights’ glare began to spread wide as the minivan reversed—and she came again. Like them backing up had pulled her trigger.

She gasped, and he plunged his fingers in and out, doing it fast, knowing somehow that was exactly what she needed right now. Her stomach bowed in and out, starlight flickered at the edges of her vision until she shut her eyes. Then it was just phosphorescent orbs floating around behind there, and she bit the inside of her cheek, holding it clamped, riding out the orgasm, not shouting out this time like she worried her gym companions in the minivan might still hear her.

“Kimmy,” Devlin said, slowing his stroke, then running his fingers over the creases of her opening, “God, you are so wet I can’t even believe it.” He ran the middle finger up high, slipped a circle around her anus, got her jumping and laughing, squirming out from his touch.

She eased back now, both of them alone in the cabin of the Mercedes again. She flicked her hair aside, looked in his eyes—then looked away. That was too personal.

He said, “You come again?”

“Maybe,” she lied. She came.

His hand went down her haunch, four flat fingers massaging against her opening, the middle one finding the protuberance of her hardened clit. He said, “I could get it in you right now.”

“Yeah,” she said, “maybe you could.”

“I know I could,” he said, teasing at her entrance, more than two fingers this time.

“Don’t,” she said, easing away from him, “let’s just make you come,” she said, on her knees, a hand against the back of his seat in the space between his shoulder and neck. Her right hand jerked his cock fast, sticky skin sounds from his bouncing balls. “You want to come?”

“Not yet,” he said, touching her neck. “Come up here.” With the hand on her rump, he hoisted her again. He had to be two-and-a-half times her weight, and strong, his hand on her bottom was able to guide her into his lap and she would’ve had to kick and scream to prevent it from happening. She tumbled forward onto him, complaining, and then alternating with laughter. “What are you doing?”

“Sit in my lap, jerk me off.”

“That’s what you want?” she said. “God—my tights are cutting into me . . .”

“Take them down,” he said.

“I’m going to pull them up.”

“Take your tights down,” he said, big thumbs on both sides of her hips tucking into her waistband pulling her tights down.

“I’d have to get off again . . .”

“Just lift your knee . . .”

They fought and struggled, her wanting her tights on, him wanting them off. In the end, he won. Half won. Her tights remained on one leg. Her panties as well. Her knees straddled the raised lips of the burgundy bucket leather, on the outsides of his thighs.

She sat back, more space in the cabin now with his seat cranked rearward, the back and levered down a few degrees. More upright, the steering wheel pressed against her lower back. If anyone were passing and could actually see him past the tinted windows it would look like she was in there by yourself, sitting reverse cowgirl. They’d wonder what she was doing. Or assume she was sitting on the driver. But they couldn’t see in, anyway . . . 

Though the windows blocked the view from outside, they let light filter in. It fell in smoky purple across Devlin’s bared chest and stomach, his enormous cock laying up on his belly angled slightly to the right. “Look at your body,” she said, resting both palms just under his chest, feeling his muscle, the warmth of his skin, the hardness too. “Shoot, how much do you work out?” She massaged his hard chest . . . 

“Not that much.”

“I go three times a week and I don’t look like this.”

“You look perfect, Kimmy,” he said, then tried tugging her sweatshirt upward. She thrust her elbows down to pinch it in place.

“Don’t,” she said, “I don’t want to be naked.”

“You are naked,” he said, dropping a hand and touching her bare pussy.

“Shit,” she said, “mm, when you touch me . . .” Practically moaning.

“You like it, huh?” Two fingers teased at her.

“I like it,” she whispered.

With his hands on her hips, his big fingers digging into the softness of her ass, he eased her forward, that wide cable running up the belly of his cock grazing against her sopping wet sex.

“Ooh,” she moaned, then made a small laugh and covered her mouth.

He held her waist, thumbed the flat of her stomach. She began to hump her sex against the bare underside of his huge cock. “That’s it,” she said, “don’t move . . .” Still humping.

“You gonna come from that?”

“Shh,” she said shushing him, closing her eyes—then opening them, looking at his muscles, running her fingernails over his hard stomach, looking at the size of the thing laying on it. Biting her lip, imagining it inside her . . . 

“Try it,” he whispered.

“No . . .”

“Just see . . .”

“No way . . .”

He slipped a hand underneath her sweatshirt, palmed her left breast, hard nipple poking through her bra and rubbing against his palm. “Mm,” she groaned, “squeeze . . .”

He did, gripping her itty bitty, massaging the flat against her hardened bud. She humped faster against his cock, her pendulous arcs growing more pronounced. Sliding her opening from his testicles midway up his shaft. Then back again. Forward. Back. Farther up.

Devlin thumbed his erection slightly upward. She dragged her greasy groove right up his shaft till she felt the pronounced bulb end of him press against her opening. He squeezed his ass muscles upward, putting pressure against her aperture.

“No way,” she laughed, sliding it right back down to his balls again, sitting on them and squashing them.

Devlin said, “We don’t have to do anything. I just want to be inside you.”

“I told you I was ovulating,” she said, running her hair back from her face and holding her neck.

“That was last week.”

She chewed her lip. “But still . . .”

“Wish we had condoms.”

An honest and accidental admission: “I have condoms.”

“You do?”

“Whoops,” she said, covered her mouth with both hands.

Devlin said, “You bring condoms to the gym?”

“No,” she said. But in her purse was the three-pack of Magnums she’d bought on a fun whim. Now down to two after she’d used one on that enormous cucumber, pleasuring herself. And looking now at the reddish-brown hot-flesh cucumber on Devlin’s stomach, the one in her kitchen wasn’t so impressive.

“Get it,” he said, clapping her thighs.

“I can’t,” she said.

“In your purse?”

“Yeah . . .”

He sat up with her straddling his lap; she leaned her back against the steering wheel. He put an arm around the small of her waist, dipped the other arm into the passenger-side footwell and brought up her purse. He rested it on the console, tugged it open. She reached in, fished around until she found the lightweight cardboard box. Box flicked open, not wanting to draw it out where he could see, she tugged out two folded-over condoms and tore one off.

He saw the reflective gold of the packet, said, “Magnums? Kimmy came prepared.”

“Stop,” she said laughing then covering her mouth.

“You didn’t buy those for Josh.”

“Don’t say that. Don’t.”

“All right,” he said, turning his face away for a second and still smiling. He looked hot in the dramatic light.

“I can’t do it,” she said.

“We’re not fucking, Kimmy. You think it won’t go in, and I’m saying it will. It’s like you don’t think I’ve ever had sex before because my dick is too big . . .”

“Look at it,” she said, gripping it, holding it and wagging it at him accusingly. “It’s so freaking big.” She palmed it now, caressing from tip to base.

“Put the condom on.”

“I’m not doing anything,” she said, her fingers tearing the foil packet. She plucked free the rubber, stroked his cock, angled it upright. Reservoir tip squeezed, she used two hands to get it over the large shape of his cock head then roll it down his shaft. The Magnum petered out. “Wow,” she said, amazed by his size.

“We’re all safe now.”

“I can’t fuck you.”

“You don’t have to fuck me, Kimmy.”

“I’m not going to.”

“We’re not,” he said. “But try . . .”

She put her hands flat on the hardness of his bared chest, began stroking her sex up and down his latex-covered cock now. From base to tip, base to tip again. Base to tip . . . Leaning forward, tilting her pelvis, opening the angle of her entry to the direction of his shaft . . .

***

Devlin pushed his hips, the huge end of his cock prodding at her.

“Don’t,” she said and laughed, hitting his chest.

“I thought you were going to.”

“No, we can’t.”

“Suit yourself. We’re here; I’ve got a dome. Just try. Once in, once out. Show you we can do it.”

“No,” she said. “But yes, we can probably do it.”

“I’m not too big for you.”

“Yeah? What if you are?”

“We can just play if that’s how you want it.”

She massaged his chest; his body was so hard and ridged. She said, “I want to come again. I’m so close. It’s right there . . .”

“All right,” he said, his hand going between her legs, beginning to finger her, not in her body, just massaging her clit, rolling around its hood, peeling the hood back and exposing it. It got her breath coming faster. The heat of his cock burned a line along the inside of her thigh. She rocked on his balls, then got her weight on her hands, began humping his shaft again while he pleasured her clit. She leaned forward, farther, putting her face in the hollow of his neck, smelling that sandalwood and lemon and pine. This time when his penis prodded at her opening she didn’t buck away.

One of Devlin’s hands went between them, the other around the back, angling that monster upward, pushing at her, pushing, pushing . . . Fingers of the other hand guided the head of his cock into her entryway.

“Oh, oh shit,” she sighed now.

“Go slow . . .”

“God, you are so big.”

“You’re so wet.”

“I’ve never been so wet . . .”

It was hard to believe how she’d over-lubricated. Like her body knew her mate had a big one.

“There,” he said, the head of his cock firmly seated in her pussy’s foyer. “Ease yourself back. Take your time.”

She did. Her elbows against his chest, eyes peeled up to the blackness of the Mercedes roof, sighing, “God, why are you so big?” then shifting downward, easing back. “Mm, it hurts . . .”

“Go easy.”

She grimaced, his cock going into her body feeling far too large and far too foreign. Not right at all. Latex crinkled in the tightness of her grip on him. “It’s in,” she said.

“It’s hardly in. Ease back more.”

“It’s . . . so big . . .”

“Does it hurt?”

She dug her nails into his chest muscle. “It’s good,” she admitted.

His fingers stroked upward, along his shaft up over her anus, getting her stomach fluttering. It tightened her stomach wall against his girth, provoking a bright tearing feeling at her perineum that was at once painful and yet sensual. “Wow,” she whispered.

“Easy . . .”

“Okay . . .” She sat back further, and sure enough, despite his massive girth, her canal began to swallow him. His oversized penis—hard as steel, throbbing—began entering her body. Not deep, not deep at all, but making its presence very much known. “Oh wow,” she gasped. Her insides seemed to gulp at him the deeper he got.

Devlin grunted, “You are tight.”

“Ow, mm...”

“Fuck, Kimmy, your pussy’s so good . . .”

“You like it?”

“I love it,” he said, hands caressing her bare thighs.

“Don’t go deep, please.”

“Take your time . . .”

And with that assurance, his hands slipped underneath her bell-bottomed sweatshirt, under her tee as well, big hands smoothing her flat stomach, warm against her skin. They swooped rearward, headed to unhook her bra.

“Not here,” she said. Saying it got her moving back, more upright, headed out of his gasp. “Oh wow, oh ow,” she said, the act getting Devlin deeper inside her.

“That’s good,” he groaned.

“Yeah, that’s good,” she sighed, finding it hard to breathe. She’d draw in, hold, gasp, hitch again. Her hand went to her stomach, ran circles like she could soothe the discomfort. Lower lip held under her front teeth, she listened to the wet sounds as Devlin crept deeper and deeper, her bodyweight settling in his lap, her wetness allowing his passage. Her hand went down, felt around where they were connected. “You’re not even all the way in,” she moaned.

“Fuck you feel good . . .”

“Yeah, ah, you feel, mm, good too . . .”

She braced hands on his abs, not wanting him any deeper. It felt like he was in her guts, already deeper than she’d ever had a man. That stretching feeling was awful but somehow she loved it anyway, loved the feeling of having her sex claimed by dominant manhood. Another gasp, and she reeled rearward until her back lay on the Mercedes’ steering wheel. She rested there, insane high-pitch pleasure ripping between her legs. Her breaths came hard and fast. She rubbed her stomach low, right around where Devlin’s cock head felt like it might be. Hips swiveled. He drove up; she rose to resist his entry.

“No, don’t, that’s all I want, oh God, oh . . .”

A sudden burst of pleasure like squashing an over-ripe sweet and seedless grape—Devlin’s thumb mashed on her aching bulb of a clit. She hissed out loud like she’d been scalded, her fists thrashing down to strike her skinny thighs, bumping the bones.

“Oh God, oh my God, oh God, oh God . . .”

“Yeah?”

“It’s gonna . . . oh, mm, I’m, ah, gonna come again, keep, ah, keep go-going . . .”

Hips rocking in a frenzy, her thighs and feet ached from keeping herself levitated above Devlin, not wanting that monster any deeper inside her right now. He had enough already, enough to get her off like crazy . . .

She humped, he thumb-rubbed, they both gasped and panted. In less than a minute he had her on a knife edge of blackout pleasure. She crossed an arm over her face so he wouldn’t watch her because he’d got her singing a warbling “oh-wha, oh-wha, oh-wha,” a doo-wop that sounded like she was imitating an oncoming firetruck. It was frenzied. Leather creaked, cloth ruffled in quick zips, the latex condom crackled; she clamped teeth on her arm-flesh to stifle a wild cry. She came again. Came hard, thighs going to steel, her ass flexing, rising up off Devlin, feeling that slide—God, that slide—as his cock moved in her tight interior while she came . . .

Then off him she fell, collapsing on his chest, laughing, sobbing, bucking, jerking as each breath was like a tickle reflex. Every nerve between her legs jumped alive. Her ass muscles quivered, her thighs shook.

With each exhale she watched the hair on his chest ruffle. It was over . . . it was over, it had to be over before she went too far.

Both hands went down, gripped his cock and jerked up and down. Fast, fast, fast. Watching the thing in her small grip, the pucker and wrinkle of the reservoir tip, the way the head filled out the Magnum; the way the condom rolled just below the halfway mark; the way his balls jumped between his legs with her furious two-handed pumping. The slickness of her stroke came from a mix of condom lube and her own juices. The Mercedes stank like sex.

It would be so easy to go too far, to fuck him; she wanted to now. No, she wanted to earlier, too, she just had self-control. No more self-control . . . but she hadn’t truly fucked him. Hadn’t cheated—at least not all the way. “Come, okay?—come, come . . .” Translation: don’t make me lay back and get fucked because I sure would let you; don’t make me suck it, it’s too much; don’t ask to come in my mouth, I don’t think I can do that right now . . . 

“Take the dome off . . .”

“I don’t want a mess . . .”

“Mm, fuck, it’s coming . . .”

“Come . . .”

If you come, this is just play, nothing more . . . 

And he did. She bit his nipple. Bit it to stop herself from looking up and meeting his eyes, not wanting the intimacy. it would be easier if he was just a nice body and a huge dick and nothing more. So she clamped teeth on his nipple and he came that way while she watched; a lion grumble in his chest, right under her ear, her head riding up and down on the waves of his breath, then those abs flexed and heaved, deep divots on either side of his column of stomach muscles, the valleys between hipbones. His massive cock went iron in her two hands, stiffening and quivering and flexing in her grip; his hips stabbed upward in hard thrusts, and the end of his condom jumped and squirmed as he filled it with his semen. She squeezed, massaged, stroked, watched it fill, then overfill and begin to spread a milky bulge under his cock head.

Something about seeing his excitement spewed and collected in the condom made her feel good, some biological impulse of happiness, brain chemicals sending her messages of pleasure to have satisfied her man. She thumbed the gooey bulge, squeezing the thick shaft still, gently stroking, admiring his manhood while his breath roared in the ear cupped to his hard chest.

As her own heart rate abated that satisfaction she felt began to stretch like warm caramel into disappointment. A hand job wasn’t the best way to please Devlin. But for now it was what she would be willing to do. Maybe more. She could suck him. She could do that. She’d done it . . . Maybe she would allow him to come in her mouth. Devlin would like it. Had asked for it.

When was the last time you let Josh come in your mouth? Probably years. Fuck. Josh . . . 

Head tucked down, she closed herself off from reality. Don’t look up and see who it was you just let put his cock inside you. A guy you didn’t like, a guy your husband hates. Devlin wasn’t that bad the closer you got to him, but still . . . he was Devlin Stone.

Before he could speak and remind her with his deep voice a real live human was in the car with her, she let her hand drift down, cup the weight of his emptied balls, stroke back up—the wetness on her hand was her insides, and she marveled again at how wet Devlin had got her—and began to work at removing the condom, keeping herself busy; don’t let your mind examine what just transpired and don’t let Devlin remind you by speaking . . . 

It took two hands to get the rubber off him; even a Magnum was tight. Couldn’t help herself: when it was off, she held it by the ring and let it dangle, eyes going up and down its length, feeling the pendulous weight of the large volume of semen he’d pumped into the reservoir.

Devlin eased the seat up, closing her in the decreasing space between the steering wheel and his chest.

“Let me get off,” she said.

“You already got off,” Devlin said, hugging an arm around her.

“Pig.”

Devlin laughed.

There was a pervasive post-coital intimacy she hated. They’d both come, both made the other one orgasm. It was too close to him and she had to get back to her side before he groaned and held her or tried to kiss her again. She hiked a leg over the console and heaved off him, elbow on his chest, her finger and thumb pinching the used condom. Devlin helped her with a hand on her waist, guiding her back to the passenger side. But her legs were shaky and weak, and she pivoted to collapse butt-first into the bucket. The condom left her grip.

“Shit,” she hissed, pulling back her hair and peering in the dark to see where it’d gone.

Devlin asked her what was wrong and she said, “I dropped the condom.”

“If you got come on my carpet you’re fired before you start.”

“I didn’t,” she said, but maybe she did. “Shoot, shoot,” she muttered, hand feeling around. “Can you turn on a light?”

Devlin was already doing it, and now the cabin of his Mercedes flooded in focused halogen. Before she spotted for the condom, she was checking herself, seeing what would be exposed to anyone walking on the sidewalk or wanting into one of the vehicles next to them, hand moving down to cover the naked patch between her legs. Saw the condom.

“Oh, fucking shit!”

It was on her leg, sticky latex clung to her tights, below her knee and along the side of her calf. Upside down. Devlin’s sperm gulping down her leg and almost inside her shoe. “Fucking, oh my God . . .”

Devlin was laughing next to her as she pinched it closed, peeled it off her leg, disgusted, mad, hating him laughing and saying, “It’s all over your carpet,” even though it wasn’t.

Devlin still laughed, leaning to open the glove box saying, “Not the first time I had to get my car detailed, Kimmy.”

She tied off the condom, holding her leg outward in the footwell, turning it so his semen wouldn’t drip or roll into her shoe. Devlin tossed a handful of paper napkins into her lap and sat back groaning a satisfied sound.

“It’s going in my shoe,” she complained, swiping with a wadded napkin. “It’s all over my tights . . .”

“And you wanted to keep the condom on me to stop a mess.”

“Why do you think this is funny?” Still swiping. Hard enough she was burning her skin with friction.

“How can you not think this is funny?”

She scoffed, looked his way. The guy lounged in his driver seat, elbow on the sill, looking at her smug, fly open, big brown shining cock upright from his lap and leaning heavy to one side.

Funny? She’d just fooled around with him. His sperm was all down her leg. What would she do with these tights now? Was she going to go home like this? “I didn’t have sex with you.” Total non-sequitur. An excuse when provoked with the evidence of his semen on her clothing.

“No, you didn’t,” he said. “We played.”

“That’s all we did,” she said, like that meant anything.

“You can call it whatever you want. You’re into semantics.”

“I’m not into semantics,” she said into the footwell, scrubbing with a new napkin.

“Did it get on my carpet?”

“No, you’re precious fucking car is safe,” she said, scrubbing, dabbing.

“I still have to get it detailed.”

“Why?”

“Your slippery little cooch all over my leather.”

Anger flashed, but instead of rearing up and raging, she laughed. Inexplicable at first, then she realized his methods . . . And she wouldn’t fall for it again.

“Now you’re laughing,” he said, amused.

“You can’t manipulate me.”

“No. Not now. Only when you were all jammed up fighting with yourself over how bad you wanted my cock.”

“Right,” she said, “Sure.” She flopped back, winged the balled up napkin at his face. It hit his smiling cheek, Devlin not flinching, then rolled down to fall between his legs.

He snickered breathily through his nose and she couldn’t help smiling as she pulled up her tights, digging her heels into his floor and snapping the waist in place. She sat back with a tremendous sigh and pulled her hair back, heart still pounding, staring at the still-oblivious traffic slipping left and right on Stinson.

“I’m going to have to go shower in the gym.” She smelled her hands. Latex and her sex. She rubbed her thighs, snapped a pinch on the tights. “I’m just going to throw these in the garbage.”

“My semen’s fine, I don’t have a disease or anything, Kimmy.”

“I mean I’m not bringing them into the apartment.”

“You can buy new ones when you get paid.”

She puffed a scoff of breath, still looking out the window. “What are you doing now?”

“Back to Kingston. Bed. Tomorrow’s a shit show, then I have to fly to Italy day after.”

“Fancy.”

“The industrial part of Italy.”

“Have fun.”

“Work, work, work. Call me when you talk to Josh.”

“I will,” she said, chewing her inner lip.

“He going to let you?”

“Take the job? I don’t know.”

“You’d be crazy not to.”

“I know,” she said, nodding.

“And next time, tie off the condom and don’t play around with it.”

She shook her head, chuckling. “Yes, sir,” she said with mock military compliance.

“Ooh, I like that,” he said.

“Yeah, you’d like it if I did everything you said.”

He chuckled now too, shifting in his seat and getting her to look his way. He touched her neck and she didn’t shy away. He said, “I would. But only because you’re not that kind of woman.”

“I’m not.”

He smiled slyly, eyes narrowing; he thumbed her lower lip.

Now she rolled her eyes and pulled away. Devlin watched her and she watched him. He thrust his hips up, tucked that huge softening cock into his underwear and zipped up. “You going to hit the showers?”

“Yeah,” she said, nodding, wiping her nose and gathering herself.

“You call me. If Josh says no, tell him he’s crazy. I was kidding about talking to him, but if I’m the problem I can talk to him, let him know I’ll be on my best behavior. If you think it’d help.”

“I don’t think he thinks about you,” she said, lying.

“That’s good.”

“And what’s this about you being on your best behavior?”

“Oh, I’d be fucking lying,” he said and laughed. She reached across and tweaked his nipple. Held it. They both watched her hand touching him. The hand loosened, lay flat, smoothed over his bare chest.

“We can still get that room,” he said.

She clucked her tongue, beat a balled fist lightly on his hard chest, whispered, “Pig,” and backed to her side. “I gotta go,” she said.

He eyed her, brows high, face happy. “Call me . . .”