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“I’m here tonight only,” he murmured, his lips just a few tantalizing inches from mine. “The Bowery. Room 503.”
His cornflower eyes flared wildly. His stubbled face — crossed with scratches — twitched once, before he turned away.
“Come early enough, maybe we’ll have dinner.”
Twenty-Two
JULIANA
The rest of my ‘workday’ was nothing like it should’ve been. It was too full of distractions, too dominated by thoughts of Devyn and what would happen between us later that night.
I was thrilled, but nervous. Relieved he’d returned safe and relatively unharmed from whatever dangerous mission I’d seen him whisked away on, and also a little turned on by the sheer badassery of who he was, and what he’d presumably done.
Okay fine. Alotturned on.
On top of all that he was absolutelydelicious, in all the ways that his photos had promised. I’d been hellbent on the idea of having a child with him for nearly a year, but it was only recently that I’d actually fallen for the man behind the sperm sample.
For all these reasons I knocked off early, went home, and took a long hot shower. I primped. I preened. I took a cab to East 3rd street, and walked the final block on firm, confident legs. By the time I arrived at The Bowery, I was more than ready for anything.
You sure you want this?
The question was rhetorical, as I exited the elevator and stepped onto the fifth floor. Hell yes I wanted it. I wanted it doubly too, in the sense that I wanted both Devynandthe biological necessity he’d provide me when it came to having a child.
There was no need to knock because he’d already given me the key. I knocked anyway, then inserted the key into the lock and pushed down on the handle.
The room was dim, but not dark. I’d intentionally waited until after the sun had gone down, which already made it fairly late. Coming early and having to sit through dinner was the last thing in the world I’d wanted. Plus, I never did like doing what someone told me to do.
“I was wondering if you’d even show.”
Devyn’s suite was one of the fancier ones. Right now he was standing at the bar between the kitchenette and living area, pouring a deep amber liquid into a crystal glass.
“Whatever that is I’ll have some,” I told him. “Please.”
He nodded curtly. “Whiskey it is then.”
The door closed behind me as I hung my bag on the back of the nearest chair. I’d worn a form-fitting black dress that was tight but comfortable, one that accented my curves and turned guys’ heads yet could still be perfect for going out to dinner if Devyn insisted.
By the way he was dressed however, I knew that probably wouldn’t be the case.
“On ice?” he asked, hovering a pair of tongs over a second glass.
“No, thank you.”
He paused, obviously impressed. “Good girl.”
I moved closer, giving my eyes permission to wander if they wanted to. And boy did they want to. Devyn wore a white button-down dress shirt that was entirely open in front. Down below, he wore nothing but a pair of tight red boxer briefs.
“Sorry,” he said, catching my stare. “You caught me in the middle of something.”
He nodded left, to where the rest of his uniform was stretched out over a hotel ironing board. His pants were already done, and draped over the bottom half of a hanger. The creases were perfect.
But it was Devyn’s bare legs that had me drooling, all perfect and muscular and ending at that red-stitched hem. Those legs looked extremely dangerous. Coiled with power.
“Here.”
He handed me my glass, just as my eyes bounced over the significant bulge in the front of his boxer shorts. I should’ve looked away, but I didn’t care to. Besides, he’d looked me over on more than one occasion, entirely without apology.
“To making the most beautiful kid in the world,” he smiled, suddenly raising his glass my way. Caught off guard, I hesitated for a moment. Eventually I clinked it, toasting him nervously.
