Not anymore.
He’s quiet for a long moment. When he speaks, he guides us back to safer topics. “Why would you think I’m a bruiser?”
“I mean…” I motion at him. “I’ve never met anyone with such a don’t-fuck-with-me vibe. That would be really useful in a number of professions; personal security, corporate security, really any kind of security.” Except tech security. I have a hard time imagining Devan behind a screen all day.
I sigh. “I guess it wasn’t hard to figure out where I’d gone on my birthdays when you are a tech dude.”
“Hazel.” He shakes his head slowly. “We talked about this downstairs. You know damn well you wanted me to find you. You tagged your location.” He frowns. “You’ve got to stop doing that shit. It’s not safe, especially with all the weirdos who follow you on social media. You’re just asking to get tossed into the back of a van.”
A thread of warmth curls through me at his ridiculous protectiveness. “I’m safe enough.”
“Uh huh.” He turns on his side, toppling me off him and onto my back. Sadly, he doesn’t immediately take advantage of our new positions; he simply studies my face. “You have some really hardcore fans. It’s only sheer luck that one of them haven’t edged over into stalking.”
Truth be told, there have been some close calls with that sort of thing. Being even remotely famous on the internet paves the way for creepy parasocial relationships that are all in people’s heads, and I’ve gotten my fair share of weird messages and emails and even on one scary occasion, a letter to my home.
Still, I smile because I’m not about to tell Devan that. He might think I’m trying to manipulate his sympathies or invite him to meddle in my life. I am most certainly not. “If you’re paying that close of attention, you’ll realize that these days I only tag a location leading up to my birthday.” An invitation of sorts, but only to this man.
“I know.” He smiles a little, though it fades nearly as soon as it appears. “Just promise me you won’t do it anymore after this birthday.”
After this birthday.
After I say goodbye to Devan forever.
Chapter 12
I don’t mean to fall asleep. When there are so few hours left in this fling, I want to soak up every second with Devan. I can sleep once this is over. Unfortunately, my body has other ideas.
I wake up in a panic, suddenly sure that he’s taken this opportunity to slip out of my life permanently. That last night was all a ruse after we came that last time, that he regrets it and just wanted to let me down gently by not letting me down at all. Ghosting is so much simpler than having rough emotional conversations or rejecting the woman who used to be your ward and has a boatload of baggage.
I start to sit up, only to be brought short by a heavy weight over half my body. I open my eyes to find Devan sleeping pressed to my side, one arm draped over my waist and one leg wedged between mine. I couldn’t escape this bed if I wanted to, and I suddenly very much do not want to.
He’s still here.
There’s no point in examining the sheer relief that courses through me at that realization. Certainly no reason to look further into the future to the inevitable crash and burn of my emotions when this is over. I can scream up and down and sideways that this is just sex and just letting off steam that’s been building for six years, but some part of me knows it’s more than that.
Plenty of time to muddle through that mess later.
I have other things on my mind currently.
Devan shifts against me, hitching his leg higher until his thick thigh is pressed against my pussy. “Morning.”
“Morning,” I whisper.
“How you feeling with a few hours of sleep behind you?”
Easy enough to read between the lines. He wants to know if I’m having regrets or all freaked out. I am freaked out, but not in a way Devan can fix. I squeeze my legs around his, urging him closer yet. “I’m feeling needy.”
Devan makes a sound nearly like a growl and buries his face in my neck, kissing and gently biting me. “Can’t have that.”
“What are you going to do about it?”
“I can think of a few things.” He moves down my body slowly, lavishing my breasts with kisses. “A certain birthday girl mentioned kissing her pretty pussy better last night.”
I arch up, whimpering as he continues his journey south. “She sounds really smart.”
“She is.” He settles between my thighs. “Smartest girl I ever met.” He kisses my pussy before I can figure out if he’s just talking shit or if he actually means it. Devan traces his tongue over me as if he has all the time in the world and intends to taste every inch of me. I melt under his little strokes and licks. Last night was so intense and nearly overwhelming—in a good way—that this slow, lazy moment feels particularly sinful.