Eye of the Storm

  Eye of the Storm

  Delilah Devlin

  Contents

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  A gust of rain-soaked wind at my back pushed me through the heavy teak doors into the hotel lobby. I stood, dripping onto the carpet, feeling as dispirited as I ever had in my life.

  I’d made a gamble and lost. Flying to Jamaica in the eye of a storm, I’d hoped to find the part of me I’d left behind a year ago.

  So many regrets swirled inside my head. I’d waited too long to come back. I’d been a coward—afraid to grab for the brass ring when it had hung within my grasp.

  “Miss Smith, you need a towel?”

  I glanced at the desk clerk, whose dark solemn face told me he knew how unhappy I was. Okay, now I could add looking pathetic to my list of woes. “Thanks, Bob,” I said, twisting my lips into a parody of a smile.

  He passed me a stack of towels, and I began to rub my sodden hair. My clothes were beyond hope—my jeans and short T-shirt clung to my skin.

  “Da hurricane party jus’ started,” he said, his tone gentle. “You can get yourself a rum toddy at da bar. Warm you to yer bones.”

  I started to shake my head, wanting only to flee to my room and lick my wounds in private, and then thought better of it. I’d spent a wad of hard-earned cash to get here in the middle of a storm—why not live a little? Or at least get really, really drunk. “How’d you get so smart, Bob?”

  “Seen a lot in my years,” he said, pointing to his old, rheumy eyes.

  “I can’t believe you remembered me,” I murmured. “I was only here for five days, and you must have met thousands of guests in your time.” Although I hadn’t forgotten him, either. I hadn’t forgotten a single moment of my previous visit.

  “Knew you’d be back.” He gave me a wink. “Don’t give up just yet.”

  I gave him another false smile and headed toward the bar, automatically smoothing back my wet hair, although I really didn’t care what I looked like. The one person who mattered wouldn’t be there.

  Gray daylight spilled into the lobby through the small ice-block windows high up under the eaves, but it didn’t reach very far inside the bar because of the boarded up windows. I hesitated until my sight adjusted. The interior was as dark as a cavern, the bar lit only by a line of hurricane lamps because the electricity had gone out.

  I hadn’t stepped three feet inside the room when a hand snagged my wrist. I closed my eyes, a sweet trembling starting deep inside my core.

  “Hello, Janie.” That voice—a deep, rusty baritone—elicited a delicious shiver.

  “Marcus…” I whispered, leaning back against him and allowing him to surround me with his brawny arms. “I thought—”

  “That I wasn’t coming?” He snorted, his breath warming my cheek.

  “It’s been a year,” I said softly. “A lot could have happened since then. I thought you’d changed your mind.” I didn’t tell him that I’d cried when I’d found his small office near the wharf boarded up.

  “How could I miss your birthday?” His lips glanced against my cheek.

  I turned in his arms and reached up to slide mine around his neck. His dreadlocks were longer than they’d been, but his warm gray eyes and beautiful, broad face were the same. I leaned closer as his lush, juicy lips met mine. This was what I’d returned for—his arms enfolding me, holding me so tightly I felt cherished.

  His head rotated, drawing my lips along with his, and I opened, sighing as his tongue slid inside to caress mine. He tasted of rum and mint. And his lips were incredibly soft, suctioned to mine, tugging until I felt it all the way to my pussy and clenched my thighs tightly.

  The man could kiss! Or was it just us—together—that made this so damn good? So special.

  Was I reading too much into the fact he was here? We’d agreed not to call, not to exchange letters. Marcus had kissed me that last day of my vacation just before I boarded my plane to return home. He’d said to think about us. If I didn’t come back, he’d understand.

  I’d arrived on the island shattered after being dumped by my fiancé days before my birthday. Marcus had healed my pride with his sweet loving and rich laughter. When I’d gotten home, I’d almost convinced myself that he’d been right about waiting. That our short time had simply been what I needed at that moment. That I’d wanted to latch on to the possibility of a new love to fill my drowning heart. That maybe, he’d only been a vacation fling.

  However, the closer my next birthday drew, the more urgent grew the feeling inside me that I had to see him again. I had to know whether he still had feelings for me, because time hadn’t dimmed my memory of what we’d shared.

  The sound of a voice clearing behind him brought me back. I opened my eyes and looked beyond Marcus’s shoulder to another set of familiar broad shoulders, a head of curly blond hair and a pair of pale piercing eyes.

  I stiffened and drew back from Marcus’s embrace. “Hello, Cade,” I said, my voice tightening.

  Marcus’s friend and business partner gave me a small lopsided smile. The smile did nothing to soften the brutal contours of his handsome face. His pale blue gaze held mine for a long moment.

  I remembered that about him. He liked to stare. His gaze had followed me always, unblinking. His expression shuttered and so remote I couldn’t help but do little things to prick him, to try to get a reaction.

  When Marcus and I had swum like fish beside the anchored boat in a deserted inlet, he’d watched from the deck, his gaze never straying from us. Once, annoyed with his silent presence, I’d tossed the top of my bathing suit at him, daring him to look away. But he hadn’t.

  Later, when Marcus had made love to me inside the cabin, I’d thought about Cade staring at my bared breasts and, shamefully, I cried out at the moment of my climax—just a little louder than I should have—as punishment to Cade for his intrusion into my blossoming relationship with Marcus.

  I took a deep breath, forcing my gaze away from Cade, and gave Marcus a questioning glance.

  “We sailed our boat to shelter on the other side of the island till the storm passes. We drove back together.”

  “Why don’t you have a drink at the bar, Cade?” I said, lifting my chin. “I need to get changed. Marcus?”

  Marcus’s lips twitched. “I don’ think she’s warmed up to you yet, Cade. What are we going to do about dat?”

  Cade shrugged, but his glance darkened as it locked with mine.

  For a reason I wasn’t yet willing to admit, his continued silence provoked me. “Marcus, are you coming up with me?”

  Marcus’s hands bracketed my face and leaned down. “You know what dis is about, don’ you?” he asked, his gaze searching mine.

  I shook my head, my lips opening to respond, but the promise lurking in his eyes stole away my breath. My mind leapt to the dark, sensual possibilities, and although I’d never admitted it—especially to myself—I’d thought about every decadent one of them over the past months.

  “Invite us both up, sweetheart,” he whispered, then leaned forward the last inches to rub his soft lips over mine.

  When he lifted his head, I felt tears well in my eyes. Was this what I’d really come back for? Had I known this would be the consequence if I accepted Marcus’s offer to become his lover and live with him?

  I had to have known somewhere in the deepest, most feminine part of myself. Marcus shared a home with Cade. They shared a business and a long friendship and were rarely out of each other’s company. Any woman who entered a relationship with one risked tearing the fabric of their bond. I’d wondered if a woman could be involved with one and really have a solid footing without accepting the other.

  However, I hadn’t been willing to think too deeply about what that acceptance would mean.

  Had I been a coward? Had I lied to myself all these months to make my decision more palatable, less frightening?

  I opened my lips only to clamp them shut, not sure what to say in response. A brazen yes, and they might think I’d come back only to experience a sexy holiday. No and I knew Marcus might be willing to bed me one last time, but any chance of being with him forever would be doomed.

  Instead, I grasped his hand and turned silently toward the door, aware they must be exchanging silent communications behind me, but not caring what they’d deduced. I only knew my body hummed with an excitement so shriekingly loud, that I wanted to run up the stairs to my room and tear away my clothes.

  When we stood outside my door in the darkened hallway, I drew a key from my jeans pocket and handed it to Marcus, ignoring Cade.

  Cade hovered close behind us while Marcus turned the key in the lock. Did Cade think I’d slam the door in his face as soon as Marcus crossed my threshold? I wanted to do it—but not as much as I wanted his steady gaze on my body when I stripped for Marcus and lay down on my soft bed and opened my legs.

  I wanted him hot, hard and wanting to be Marcus as he plunged inside me.

  No one had ever filled me like Marcus. Would Cade realize no one could when he saw how thick and long his friend grew as I pleasured him with my mouth?

  I turned my back on Cade and strode into my room. I didn’t try to conceal my agitation as I drew my shirt over my head and tossed it at the empty armchair.

  The wind buffeting the plywood nailed over my windows had nothing on the storm gathering inside me.

  Marcus went to the bedside table and drew out two fat candles and lit them, setting one in the ashtray on the night table and another on top of the dresser. “Think she’s angry with
both of us?” Marcus asked softly as I stripped away my bra.

  “I think that’s a distinct possibility,” Cade said, his voice sounding strained.

  I shot him a glare, but the effort was wasted. His gaze was glued to my breasts.

  With both men breathing harder, their bodies tightening beneath their wet T-shirts and jeans, my anger emboldened me. I unbuttoned my jeans and pushed them, along with my panties, quickly down my legs.

  Cade’s breath hissed between his teeth, and finally his gaze dropped lower.

  Let him drool, I thought. I’d waxed my pussy the day before I’d caught my plane. Let him get so hard his dick strained against his zipper. I hoped the teeth bit him hard.

  I turned to Marcus and reached to shove up his T-shirt, trailing my hands along the ridges and hollows of his abdomen and chest. Working fast to get him as naked as I was so I could take him inside my body and end this agony of waiting.

  His laughter, low and husky, spilled over me, warming my skin, drawing up prickling goose bumps all over my body as I fumbled with his pants and helped him step free.

  On my knees in front of him now, I stared at his amazing cock and leaned close to rub my cheek along its length as I directed my gaze upward to meet his.

  His large pale palm wrapped around his shaft. “You wanna eat this? Show Cade how talented that mouth of yours is?”

  “I don’t want to show Cade anything at all. I want this so deep I’m choking on it,” I said, quickly sticking out my tongue to lick the plump head. I almost smiled when I heard the guttural groan behind me.

  Marcus’s eyes narrowed, and he gently slapped my face with his cock. First one cheek, then the other. “Such a nasty girl, playing with my friend.”

  I opened my mouth and poked out my tongue, ready for him to quit playing and let me feast. The sight of his cock did things to me—made my mouth water and my pussy ache.

  Several shades darker than his caramel-colored belly, its head slightly purple—it was a massive, beautiful thing, curving upward and already oozing a bead of creamy pre-cum.

  He smacked my tongue, and I licked the bead, closing my eyes to savor the taste.

  When I opened them again, Marcus lifted his chin toward the bed. “Get up there and suck me kneeling,” he said roughly.

  A shudder racked me. The position would lift my bottom into the air, and Cade would have quite a view. But I did as he said—Marcus had never been wrong about what really turned me on. Letting him command me took away all responsibility.

  When I was on my knees, my legs parted only far enough to ensure my balance, I waited as Marcus stepped close and guided his cock into my mouth.

  He pressed deep, sliding over my tongue, not stopping until he bumped the back of my throat.

  I moaned and swallowed, opening my jaws to let him sink deeper. The taste of his salty skin and the scent of his musk overwhelmed me with desire. Moisture trickled from between my folds and traced a cool trail down my inner thighs.

  I felt a finger slide in the moisture. My eyes shot open. Cade hadn’t been able to resist the temptation to touch. My lips tightened around Marcus in protest.

  “Pretend it’s me, baby,” Marcus said, his voice deep and gravelly now. “Let him touch you and lick you.”

  My whimper was muffled—my mouth stuffed with his huge cock—but I couldn’t help the rise of my bottom as my back arched then sank, lifting to Cade’s touch as he traced the length of my labia, pausing to rub circles on my hooded clit.

  “That’s it, Janie,” Cade said, his voice directly behind my ass. “I’m gonna eat you out. Been dreaming of this for a long time.”

  Tears pricked my eyes. Things were happening too fast for me to think. Even though I had misgivings and didn’t quite trust Cade, I widened my stance, breathing hard around Marcus’s cock as I pulled off then swallowed him again, entering a rhythm with the up and down pulsing of my hips. My undulating body an invitation neither man could miss.

  I stopped thinking about right or wrong. About what lay beyond this wild loving. Instead, I concentrated on delivering pleasure to the man in front of me—the one I loved. I stroked him with my mouth and tongue, scraping my teeth gently along his shaft, making this powerful man tremble and buck against me.

  However, Cade wouldn’t let me forget he was behind me. His wicked tongue flickered against my outer and inner lips, lapping up the cream my body oozed, burrowing into my opening to tease me with the short strokes of his tongue.

  My heart beat faster, sweat broke on my skin, and my moans vibrated along Marcus’s cock. He gripped my shoulders, holding me up, and I trusted him not to let me down. I wrapped my hands around the base of his cock, stroking upward in opposition to my mouth’s quickening pulls.

  Soon, the guttural groans of the men and my helpless, muffled whimpers filled the room as did the scent of my arousal.

  When the rasp of a zipper entered my heated mind, I cried out in relief. Cade’s round knob nudged my opening, and I reared back, letting him spear me deep inside my pussy.

  God, he was thick and hard, filling me nearly as well as I remembered Marcus could. He screwed his hips, circling to work his big dick deep inside my drenched, convulsing passage. When he was many inches deep, he began to stroke forward and back, dragging at my inner walls, teasing more liquid pleasure from deep inside me.

  I was close, felt the tightening, coiling tension build inside my womb. I reached for it, groaning loudly as Marcus stuffed my mouth and Cade shafted my cunt in swift, fierce strokes.

  I’d have exploded then and there, except Cade shocked me, tugging me back from the precipice, when two of his fingers circled my tiny puckered hole then slipped inside.

  I shouted around Marcus’s cock, my lips clamping tight, eliciting a sharp hiss from him and soft laughter from Cade.

  My ass closed tightly around the fingers, the pressure nearly unbearable, and the stretch burning the constricting ring.

  But he was relentless. Moisture dropped between my cheeks easing his entry, and then he was stroking his fingers in and out while he fucked my vagina.

  I was dying, writhing, barely remembering to keep my lips between my teeth and Marcus’s cock. Both men thrust harder, faster, and this time as I became mindless, groaning and shuddering within the grasp of so intense an orgasm, I became afraid.

  Tears leaked down my cheeks and Marcus’s hands squeezed my shoulders hard, reassuring me. At the last moment, I opened my eyes and sought his gaze.

  His face was taut and ruddy, sweat rolling from his temples. “That’s it, baby. Just a little more. Swallow it.” He grimaced and cum jetted into my throat.

  I swallowed, the convulsion of my throat caressing the head of his cock as he spurted his salty cream. The flavor of his pleasure, the tight closing of his eyes as he flung back his head—that was enough to send me over the edge, and I shattered, my body coming to a jerking halt. Only the hammering of Cade’s hips kept shoving me along Marcus’s dick to extend his pleasure.

  Cade shouted. His body slammed hard against my ass, and his hand tightened on my waist as he forced me harshly forward and back to milk the last of his orgasm.

  Marcus pulled slowly from my mouth, pausing to rim my lips with the crown of his cock, and then stepped away.

  I closed my eyes, my head dropping as I drew deep, shuddering breaths.

  I heard the pad of his feet across the floor toward the bathroom, then the soft snick of the lock.

  I lowered my chest to the bed and rested my hot face in the bedding, my ass still high, my pussy still filled with Cade’s huge cock.

  I knew he’d pull away in a moment, and I feared the moment we lost the connection I’d feel shame for what I’d let him do, what my body had begged him to do.

  Instead, Cade drew me up until my back was flush with his heaving chest. A wet kiss slid along the top of my shoulder, and his hands glided up to cup my breasts. “I love these tits.”

  I wished he hadn’t spoken. I stiffened within his embrace.

  “I imagined them every night when I closed my eyes,” he said, his voice deepening. “Thought about taking those pretty pink nipples between my teeth and nibbling just hard enough to make you jerk and moan.”

  My anger flared hotter, but so did a curling flame of desire. His dick was still planted deep, still partially erect. I concentrated, trying to prevent my pussy from offering a reflexive little squeeze, but it happened anyway.