Devil In The Waters, Book 7, Chapter 10 (Patreon)

Devlin asked her if she was coming up for a drink and she said, “I can’t. Josh is waiting for me.”

Then they both laughed, but she stayed seated. They were out front of the Spice Route Club & Hotel, a glitzy but small place by the ocean on the west side of Cayman. She’d been here earlier with him, bringing him back so he could change. She hadn’t gone up to his room, but now Devlin was luring her.

He said, “We’ve got a few minutes. Come up and have a drink with me.”

“I’m blocking traffic,” she said, checking the rear view.

They were right out front, under the car port, the doorman standing and watching them as Devlin paused in the open passenger door of her BMW leaning in and smiling. Of course she was going to go up for a drink. It’s just that she couldn’t believe she was going to go up. But why not? All the damage was already done.

Go up and fuck him. Make it quick.

I won’t even take my clothes off. I’ll just lift my skirt and he can grab my waist and fuck me from behind. We won’t even lay down. We’ll just do it standing. Maybe out on the balcony with the Caribbean breeze coming off the water, my elbows on the railing.

“One drink,” she said.

“There’s a spot over there,” Devlin said and waved her to an empty visitor space up near the entrance. He closed the passenger door, strolled away with his hands in his pockets, waiting at the base of the three steps up to his expensive hotel. She nosed the BMW into the empty spot, stepped out, purse and phone and keys in her hands, elbow tucked against the purse so she wouldn’t drop it. She pinged the alarm, shoved everything in her purse then and slung it over her shoulder. Her skirt had pockets, and she put her hands in them, walking like Devlin did up to the front door.

The whole while she strutted, flexing her legs, she watched Devlin’s eyes study her legs and feet. She loved the way he watched her. Loved that confident stare. There was so much about Devlin to dislike, but there was a lot that she liked. A lot. It was like you could only appreciate it if you were in his grace. She was definitely in his grace. And sometimes she could see in his eyes that he recognized when he was in hers.

Like right now.

They were going to fuck.

Devlin could act cool and collected, it was only because she allowed it. He wanted it as much as she did.

They weren’t a couple, so when she made it to the top of the stairs next to him, she didn’t take his hand. Devlin didn’t offer anyway. They continued walking together, hands in their pockets, the doorman studying them. Pretty sure this guy knew what was going on. Knew that Devlin stayed at the hotel alone, so thank God she’d hidden her wedding ring hand in her pocket. This guy knew she was going to fuck Devlin. And it would be confirmed when she left again in half an hour stinking like sex and Devlin’s cologne. Why the fuck did that turn her on so much? There was no denying that it did.

They walked together through the small foyer and lobby of the hotel, appointed in luxurious Caribbean colors, British colonial furniture and mahogany, gold trim on everything. Even the elevator’s faceplates on were smoky rose gold.

A young couple joined them waiting for the elevator cab up to their room. The couple spoke Italian to one another. They all got on the lift together. The other couple couple cuddled, and she watched them in the warbled and hazy reflection of the gold-plated elevator doors. She jumped when Devlin’s hand brushed down the small of her back. But she settled against him. His large hand circled the small of her back and she liked his touch. The hand dropped lower, fingers tugging up the back of her skirt. She thrust down a hand and pinched the fabric of her skirt. She wore no panties. Devlin’s hand smoothed the back of her thigh, getting her trembling. His hand slipped under her skirt, cupped a bare buttock then squeezed. It got her going on her toes, her eyes closing.

“You have such a perfect ass,” he said.

She shushed him. The couple spoke Italian, but that didn’t mean they spoke no English. Devlin squeezed and coddled her ass cheek, caressed it with his thumb.

He asked: “Are you sore?” And patted her bottom.

She covered her mouth with a hand, looking away from her own reflection. “I’m fine,” she whispered.

“I’m glad to hear that,” he said, still patting her bottom, then letting the skirt fall as the elevator came to a halt on the sixth floor. The doors opened, and the Italian couple left. As soon as they left and the doors began to close they both broke out in soft laughter. The Italian couple knew what had been happening next to them.

As the doors closed and the elevator rose again—taking them up one more floor to the top level, the seventh floor—Devlin cornered her, both his hands gripping the waist-high rails. His head hung above hers, and she lifted her chin. They kissed, and she slipped her hand along his middle, feeling the hardness of his midsection.

“Just one drink,” she said when their kiss came apart. Devlin licked his lower lip and said nothing.

***

First thing inside his hotel suite, Devlin peeled off his black shirt and threw it onto the couch. His broad and muscular back right in front of her. Did he know how much she liked his body? Stupid question.

Devlin walked into the main room of his small suite, right to the tall circular table that served as the bar. He turned over two glasses. He sighed then with relief, still thinking about taking his shirt off saying, “That’s better. It’s so god damn hot here. Take your things off, Kimmy, get comfortable.”

She chuckled, tossed her purse next to his discarded shirt and came into the center of the room.

The suite was a uniform cream color; painted walls, draperies, and an upholstered couch. A small leather sofa in chocolate brown ran along the wide window that looked out over Seven Mile Beach, and on the other side of the room was a large kitchen with stainless appliances, separated from the open part of the shite by a granite topped island curved like a quarter moon.

“Pretty presumptive, Devlin.”

He put a splash of amber into the two glasses, deep burning orange light painting the muscles on his chest and stomach. “Pretty presumptive how?”

“Disrobing as we walk in.”

“Does my body offend you?” He laughed to himself, closing the decanter and setting it back down on the bar.

“You think you can just come to the Caribbean and fuck me behind my husband’s back when I told you not to?”

He came her way, just wearing shorts, a whiskey in each hand. He presented her one. “I saw your face when I surprised you. You didn’t look disappointed.”

She sipped her whiskey. Peatier than the one they had at the villa. She said, “I’m not going to deny I wasn’t a little thrilled but that was mostly because I saw my power over you.”

“Oh,” he said. “Power over me? Funny how you see it that way.”

“Big strong man like you with all those muscles, yet you can’t seem to lift little old me out of your mind.”

“You got me there,” he said. “You think that means you can control me?”

“I’m not trying to control you, Devlin.” She sipped again.

“I don’t think you want to tangle with me like that, Chang. Not over control.”

“Oh?” she said drolly. “What would you do to me?”

“Break you in two. Leave you used up, covered in my come on the side of the road. Little Josh crying into his hands next to you.”

It disarmed her, but she didn’t show it. Chuckled instead. “Broken in two?”

“Crotch to cranium,” he said, smirking, eyeballing her over the top of his whiskey glass as he sipped.

“You’re so full of yourself.”

“And you’re the one who’s here to get filled.”

“I always knew you were a pig.”

“Did I ever deny it?”

Both of them still smiled though they traded barbs. She said, “I guess you never did.”

“I don’t deny what I am. But I know what I deliver. And I know you’re hungry for a new load.”

“I can see why Josh hates you.”

“You want to talk about Josh, I’ll talk about Josh.”

“I told you we have to leave him out of it.”

“I don’t even think you believe that anymore. You’re up here in my room right now.”

“So what?”

His eyes narrowed. “I told Josh you flirt with me.”

“He won’t believe you.”

“He wants to believe it, Kimmy.”

“He hates to believe it. He loves me.”

“Do you love him?”

She looked at him, shocked, like he was crazy. “I should throw this whiskey right in your face,” she said.

“Do it,” he said, “I’d fucking love it,” and set down his whiskey glass on the granite countertop.

“I wouldn’t give you the satisfaction.”

“Come on,” he said, daring her, “we’ll throw whiskey all over each other, roll around on the floor, lap it off each other. Then I’ll put you face down on these tiles and fuck you from behind.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” she said, smiling, not giving him an inch.

He said, “You really think this is a game?”

“Do you think I’m playing?”

“I know that my Kimmy Chang’s got all kinds of ideas in that big giant brain of hers.”

“All kinds of ideas,” she agreed.

He sneered, smile curling up on one side. “She doesn’t have the guts to act on them.”

“That’s bullshit, Devlin.”

“It would fucking turn me on if you did just one thing you thought you could do—”

She tossed the whiskey onto his neck and chin and chest. Laughed, then turned to get away from him but he grabbed her. Grabbed her by the back of the neck and his iron grip circling her skinny bicep. He tossed her easily onto the upholstered couch. She laughed, and kicked up her feet. When he came closer she kicked at him. He grabbed her shoes, pulled them off and threw them away. Grabbed her bare feet, gripped her ankles, held them on either side of his hips. She didn’t struggle anymore.

She said, “Did that turn you on?”

He pushed her right foot back, bringing her knee up to her chest, then put the sole of her foot against his crotch. She could feel the hefty weight of his growing member. She said, “You’re as big as my foot,” and scrunched her toes on it.

“What size do you wear?”

“Tens.”

“Sounds about right,” he said, did down his zipper, pulled out his huge cock. Her bare sole pressed it, felt its heat, pushed it up against his belt line and his bare hard stomach. She stroked him with her foot, watching the skin bunch up around the bulbous head. “We have to be quick,” she said.

“I’m going to take my time,” he said. “For Josh’s sake.”

She sat up, yanked him closer by his belt, his stiffening cock wagging heavily, and said, “Then I’m going to lick every drop of that whiskey off you,” and ran her tongue from his waist to his navel.