AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Devin’s head tilts, tender determination in his eyes. “Haven’t you figured out by now that there is nothing too big for us? Do you want to be with me?”
I’ve never been able to answer anything with more confidence. “Yes.”
“Good, because I need to be with you.” He swats at the air and says, “Everything else is just noise, Nova. I want you and you want me, and that’s all we need to know. Nothing else matters. I don’t think love is supposed to be easy. If we’re willing to fight for us, then we have nothing to fear.”
As I swallow with a gentle nod, Devin’s mouth lands on mine. Yanking me against his body, our hips kiss. An imprisoned breath in my lungs escapes, a shaky whimper accompanying. I’ll never tire of this. His tongue seeks entrance, the warm glide prying my lips open, and I accept. Languid strokes and heated gasps create the song of our pent-up affection.
How I survived without Devin for this long, I’ll never know. He’s right. Nothing compares to what his kiss does to me. Like a free fall, I take the plunge, losing myself in him. My blood pumps faster through my veins, hammering the beats of my heart against my ribcage. He pants as his trail of kisses wander down my jaw, along my neck, sucking on my collarbone. I love that I have the power to make this man lose his breath.
Hands gripping the roots of his hair, I tug his lips back to mine. It’s not enough, not nearly enough. His hands push the hem of my sweater up and over my head, only losing the connection of our mouths for milliseconds. And still, it’s too long. I can’t get close enough. Finding the edge of his black sweater, I shove the material up, and he offers assistance, only our mouths touching as he uses both hands to free himself of the thick barrier, taking his T-shirt with it.
This may not be the first time I’ve felt the hard contours of Devin’s body, but it’ll never cease to incite an intense craving. My hands roam, nails digging into the muscles that have grown in the last year, raking soft scratches. A low groan rumbles in his throat, his head tilting, tongue diving deeper into my mouth. When his fingers tug at the button of my jeans, I sober a fraction, breaking apart.
“Dev.” Lowering my gaze, I chew on my bottom lip, catching my breath as my forehead rolls along his solid chest. “Since this is the weekend of opening up… You should know I haven’t been with anyone else either.”
When my eyes lift, a violent spark flares in his gaze. “I knew. Deep down, I knew, but somehow your confirmation…” His arms hoist me up, my legs wrapping around his trim waist. “Knowing I’m the only man who gets to know you wholly releases something I didn’t know was caged.”
With one hand hooked around my back, the other slips between us, his palm flattening over my heart, laying claim to what he’s owned for years. And oh my hell, the possession in his eyes, I’ve never experienced anything hotter.
With a groan, Devin draws away from our kiss with a curse. “As much as I want you beneath me, let’s slow it down, and get some food in us.” His chest heaves as he takes measured breaths. “We’ve got time. There’s no pressure. And I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”
“Yeah, okay.” I gulp a few puffs of air, calming my thirst for him. “Good idea.” On cue, my stomach growls, and he lowers me to the floor. “What are we going to eat?”
“Well, I took a play out of the Pratt family handbook and had our kitchen fully stocked before we arrived.” Keeping his hands on my hips, he smirks.
“Mr. Spontaneity is throwing all kinds of curveballs at me today.”
“What can I say? I’m here to keep you on your toes, Spitfire.”
When Devin reaches for our discarded sweaters on the floor, my eyes are drawn to two columns of tiny numbers and roman numerals over his left pec. Well, not just numbers. Coordinates.
Stopping him from getting dressed, my fingers brush over the tattoo. “What’s this?”
Devin remains still, watching my hand explore his chest. “I liked your dad’s idea, so I had some coordinates tattooed after the gala.”
“What are they?”
“This one is for my childhood home in Grand Rapids, and this one is for Citi Fields in Queens, where I had my first major league at-bat.”
I press my fingertips over the last set of numbers. “And this one?”
With a quiet intake of air at my touch, he says, “Care to guess?”
Laughing softly, I hum in contemplation, my stare drawn to the second column.
“Okay, I assume these are dates.” I set about decoding. I don’t use roman numerals nearly enough in my everyday life.Who does?“The V is a five, and I is a one. So, VII is seven, which would be July. The X is ten…” Devin’s fingers dig into my hip as I trace each character with the tip of my nail. “July 28…” What are M’s? It takes a moment, but my heart realizes before my head. The day we met.
My palm settles over the coordinates: 41.7056° N, 86.2353° W. “Notre Dame?”
One gentle nod of his head, and I take hold of the cheeks, drawing his mouth to mine.
* * *
Like a synchronized dance, Devin and I move about the kitchen as we prep and cook shrimp scampi. We’ve shared driving responsibilities, hotel rooms, and our first times, but this feels the most domestic, like something we’d do every night together. Or rather, the nights he’s not on the field. However sporadic they may be.
After dinner we move to the couch, Devin picking me up when I sit beside him and dragging me to straddle his thick, muscled thighs. Without thought, my arms drape his shoulders, and my fingers scratch at the back of his head. The tip of my nose brushes across his, itching for another taste.
Devin sinks back. “I need to tell you about Palmer.”
