Page 82 of Silver-Tongued Devil

She looked up at him, startled, and he should be looking at her or saying something nice, but he had to watch the mirror.

Did she look shocked? No, she didn’t. She smiled at him, and then she gave him that wild side. She leaned slowly forward, put her elbows on the carpet and her forehead on her hands, and showed herself to him.

That was just about it right there. If his knee hadn’t been so messed up, he knew exactly what he’d have been doing. As it was, his hand went down to touch himself. Somebody had to do it.

She was straightening up, though, and taking his hand away. “Oh, no,” she told him. “This is my job. You get yourself fixed up, and you’ll get that. You’ll get it any way you want it. But tonight… I get you.”

She did, too. She showed him what she could do, and then she showed him some more, and he watched every sweet, slow minute of it.

The sight of Dakota, naked and beautiful, on her knees, taking him in, her hands working on him… if she hadn’t teased as much as she did, it would have been over too soon. She made it last, though. She drew it out. She got him moaning, panting, and then she slowed down until he was groaning, “Dakota, please. Please do it. Please finish it.”

And when she did? When he was sliding all the way down her throat, and he was watching it all happen? One moment, he was sweating, shaking. The next, that magic button had been pushed, and there was no stopping it. He was groaning, and then he was swearing. He was pumping into her, his head and fists were banging against the wall, and Dakota…

Dakota drank him down.

Dakota slept well that night. And she didn’t think Blake had any nightmares.

When she’d helped him into bed, gotten him a new ice pack and put a pillow under his foot, pulled the covers up around them, turned out the bedside lights, and snuggled up close, he’d said, “You know, sometimes ‘Thanks’ doesn’t quite cut it.”

She’d smiled in the dark. “Just because I’ve got a thing for the wild side.”

His hand, which had been running slowly over her side, stopped. “What?”

“Oh, like that’s news to you?” She’d kissed his shoulder gently. “You show me your wild side, and I’ll show you mine.”

“Darlin’,” he’d said with a sigh, “I think you already did. That thing you did in the mirror… I thought my heart would stop. Though on the other hand, that’s pure torture, with my knee all messed up like this. Here you are, too, and I haven’t done a single solitary thing for you.”

“Is your knee going to be messed up forever?”

His soft laugh had made her smile in the dark. “Nope.”

She’d kissed his shoulder again. “Shut up and go to sleep, then. Get better.”

He wasn’t in bed when she woke the next morning. She could hear the faint rumble of male voices, though, and it was a comforting sound. She sat up, did some coughing, drank some water, got dressed, and went to find those voices. Two men, sitting at the kitchen table, perfectly comfortable together, like they’d done it dozens of times.

It was a nice sight.

“Hi,” she said, pouring herself a cup of coffee and sitting down beside Blake. “Let me guess. You handicapping the football season?”

“Nope,” Blake said. “Talking fishing.”

Russell got to his feet. “Breakfast.”

“How you feeling?” Blake asked. “You did some coughing in the night.”

“Not too bad. Still a little tired. How’s your knee?”

“Aw, still tender.” He had it up on a chair again. “I’ll baby it today, and it’ll be better tomorrow. This is a sprain.”

“How can you tell?”

“Hurts too much to be anything bad.”

“That makes no sense, but all right. You aren’t even going to get it checked?”

“I will if it isn’t better in a couple days. You could say I’m a veteran. But this is a boring conversation. Let’s have a better one. The doctor said you’re supposed to be taking it easy.”

She eyed him sidelong from over her coffee cup. “I can’t wait to hear what comes next. Has anybody told you that you’re overly authoritative?”