Chapter 24
DEVLIN
If the last kiss had been spectacular, then this one was a drug. A drug that Devlin knew was going to take hold of him and never let go. He’d thought about nothing other than kissing Darcy all the way through their card game. Surprised himself, even, when he’d won the first book. Without breaking the kiss he moved them both to the sofa, the soft cushions breaking their fall as they tumbled down.
Pleasure hummed through him with every touch.
“You’re going to need to slow down,” he growled, shifting his gaze to Darcy, whose eyes were so dark and intense he nearly lost control there and then. “You have a way of making me forget everything. I want to remember this.”
He slid his hand beneath her jumper, fingers skimming her bare skin. Darcy moaned softly, leaning into him as he found her breast, gently stroking her hard nipple.
She was perfect. So perfect. There was something about her that was so honest and pure. Kissing her ignited all his senses, as if bells were ringing in his head with pleasure.
Suddenly Darcy pulled away, ending their kiss and bringing Devlin back to reality. The bells were louder. No, not bells. Beeping.
The radio.
Devlin slowly drew his hand away and groaned, leaning his head on her shoulder in frustration.
“Devlin? Darcy?” the static-filled voice came from the office. “It’s Officer Alleman. Over.”
Letting out a frustrated sigh, Devlin pulled back, resting his hand on Darcy’s waist, reluctant to let go. The radio beeped again.
“Okay, okay,” he muttered, getting up slowly and running a hand through his hair. He shifted his hips, tugging the material away, trying to make himself more comfortable.
Darcy looked into his eyes as he helped her up, breathing just as heavily, as the unfinished kisses hung between them. He needed more. They both needed more. But they also needed to be rescued so Devlin gripped her hand in his as they both headed to the office and the radio.
“This is Devlin, reading you loud and clear. Over.”
Static, then the same voice. The storm was obviously still making itself known because the voice faded in and out, almost swallowed by the howl of the wind outside.
“Just an update,” said Alleman, and Devlin found himself thinking please don’t be on your way, not tonight. Maybe not even tomorrow . “The storm is bad, but it’s moving fast. We estimate that it will burn out by 3 a.m. Currently our weather systems show fair skies in the morning, which means we should be able to get a crew out to you by daybreak. It will be no later than seven. Over.”
Devlin felt his heart thrum, and judging by the way Darcy looked at him she felt the same way. He turned back to the radio.
“That’s great news,” he said, flatly. “We can’t wait to see you. Over.”
“We feel the same way,” replied Alleman. “You’ve given us all a fright. You’ll find half the world’s news teams waiting for you when you get back. Be safe, get some rest, we’ll see you in the morning. Over and out.”
Devlin replaced the handset with a sigh.
“Back to normal, eh?” Darcy said, her pupils huge.
“I hope not,” he replied .
“I hope not too,” she whispered.
The air grew still. Devlin dropped the mic and curled his fingers around Darcy’s, tugging her towards him in one swift move.
“No more distractions,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “You heard: we have all night on our own. I don’t want to wait any more, Darcy.”
She leaned into him, tilting her head up until their lips were inches apart, the heat between them unbearable.
“Me neither.”
Her lips looked good enough to eat. “Come with me.”
Darcy didn’t need to be asked twice. Without another word, Devlin took her hand and led her through to the living quarters and straight on to the bunkroom. As soon as he closed the door behind them, he turned and pushed Darcy’s back against the wood, crashing his lips into hers. The kiss was hungry, needy. Darcy’s hands were in his hair as she responded with equal intensity.
The small room felt even smaller now, the heat between them almost overwhelming. Devlin’s hands moved to the hem of Darcy’s sweater, lifting it just enough for his fingers to skim the soft skin on her stomach. Darcy gasped. Her body arched into him, desperate for more.
“Is this okay?” he whispered against her lips.
“Yes, Devlin, please.”
The sound of his name on her lips sent a shiver down his spine and he pulled her closer.
Each touch, each kiss was like fuel to the fire burning between them. Their movements became a blur as he pulled off her sweater, her naked body nearly tipping him over the edge as he trailed kisses down her neck. He lifted each of her perfect breasts to his mouth licking her swollen nipples. Darcy’s hands were gripped in his hair, pulling him as close as she could, her breathing coming in tiny gasps.
Unable to wait a moment longer, Devlin scooped her up in his good arm as though she was a featherweight, and carried her to the bunk. They tumbled onto it, kissing and touching with a sense of desperation, as Devlin pulled off Darcy’s joggers and, together, they lifted off his T-shirt. He dropped to his knees at the edge of the bed. They were both sweaty and gasping as Devlin took a moment to savour the sight of Darcy — sweet and seductive — until he couldn’t take it any longer. He dipped his head and lifted her leg to his shoulder, as he brought his lips to her core, listening to Darcy’s soft murmurs of pleasure. Their connection was undeniable, the chemistry between them explosive. Devlin had never felt this kind of urgency, the need to have her and make her feel all of the things he was feeling.
“Devlin,” Darcy’s voice was trembling.
Devlin licked and stroked until he felt her quiver around him and, as he felt her let go, Darcy cried out his name. A sound Devlin had never heard so perfectly on anyone’s lips.
Pulling himself up to lie beside her he wrapped her in his arms, pressing his forehead against hers until her breathing slowed.
He stroked her stomach, idly, feeling the muscles ripple under his fingers. He moved to her rib cage, stroking the side of her breast and her arms. Darcy’s head lolled back on the pillow and he kissed her neck and the line of her jaw. He knew he had already had the same thought a million times that day, but she really was perfect.
Outside, the wind and storm still raged, but Devlin knew the storm raging inside him was calming. Darcy was good for him. The softness she exuded was a tonic to the way his emotions sometimes bubbled over. It wasn’t that she stopped him acting like the fool he knew he could be, it was more that she allowed him to act the way he wanted to, and the anger dissipated the more he relaxed into the real him.
She had given herself over to him. They had given themselves to each other. A thought nagged at the base of his skull, but he batted it away with a constellation of kisses dotted on her jaw and neck. Feeling like a teenager again, Devlin was awash with nervous excitement. He trailed his fingers over her skin until it bumped with goose pimples.
“Cold?” he whispered, blowing a thin stream of air onto her chest.
Darcy laughed, twisting around on the bed to face him.
“Not in the slightest,” she said, smiling. “I think this might be the warmest I’ve been since we left the Royal Alpine. Thank you.”
“Happy to oblige,” he said, kissing her again.
He couldn’t keep away. She was the drug, not the kisses.
“How’s your arm?” Darcy asked, stroking his shoulder. “Lifting me might not have been the best idea.”
Devlin felt his skin tighten around her touch, the tension building in him again.
“I used my good arm for that, and you’re lighter than my cat,” he said.
“You’ve got a cat?” Darcy’s brows shot up. “I would have pictured you with a tiger on a leash. Or maybe a gecko.”
“That’s random,” he laughed.
“Well, you know, neither are overly cuddly,” she said, studying his face. “Though, after today, maybe I can see you with a cat. A big fluffy beast who comes and sits on your lap while you’re eating Cheerios in your pants. Maybe you give them the left-over milk.”
“Have you been spying on me?” He grinned. “You’ve just described my Friday nights to a tee.”
Darcy laughed but Devlin’s smile soon faded as she pressed her lips to his. A subtle promise of what was to come.