Devil In The Waters, Book 5, Chapter 6 (complete)

First thing she thought was it was a lie and Devlin was up to something. She hid the puzzlement from her face, saying, “What does Amy know about it?”

“About what?”

“You told her you were thinking of hiring me?”

He shrugged.

“So what are you saying?”

Devlin narrowed his eyes like it was her not keeping up. “You’re saying that nobody else would know where the card was. So it had to be me texting Josh. I’m just saying I’m not the only one who knew the card was there.”

“Amy wouldn’t text him.”

He shrugged again and chuckled. “Amy’s a psycho.”

“No she’s not.”

“Amy’s all polite smiles, but look in her eyes. She’s got that killer instinct inside her like you do, but she likes letting hers off the leash.”

She ran her tooth up and down her lip watching Josh disappear now up onto the patio and wondered what he would say to Steve and Meyer and Karina. Trying at the same time to run herself through the pinball machine of Josh’s claim of taunting texts. How would it work that Amy had texted him? Why would Amy do that?

Devlin said, “So I guess you won’t be coming to work on Friday.”

She brightened, smiling now. “I’m flying to Cayman.”

“Josh backs out, you let me know. I’d love to show you around.”

“Josh will go,” she said.

Devlin nudged her elbow with his, getting her to look his way. “But if he doesn’t . . .”

She laughed. “Yeah, I’ll let you know.”

“It is a business trip, after all.”

“It is,” she said quietly as her mind levitated for a moment, toes coming off the earth, shown flickered images of being in Cayman with Devlin Stone. Being seen with him in restaurants, having him swimming with you, on the beach, Devlin with his shirt off, and at night . . .? Being in bed with him, doing the things they’d done last night while the ocean roared beyond their villa window . . . 

She said, “You better go.”

“Think about it,” he said.

“I’m going with Josh.”

“Maybe some other time . . .”

As her mind was off in Cayman with a six-foot-four man with black devil eyes and a handsome face, rock hard body, and a huge confident cock, she met Devlin’s gaze, no clever comebacks unfurling from her tongue. Instead, she smiled, and the smile slowly became a breathy chuckle.

“We’re going to have a lot of fun together, Chang. I know you’re in love with your husband. All I’m saying’s I want to spend some time with you. Off the books, on the books, Toronto, Cayman, hotels, my house, your apartment . . . no rush, no pressure. Anytime you want to roll, I’m so down to get my hands on that fucking body of yours. What we did last night was just the tip of the iceberg—the things I want to do with you, I know you’d beg for more. Let me know when you’re ready again.”

People passed by on the sidewalk, smiling, out-of-shape, old, generally incongruous, oblivious to the dirty talk happening feet away from them. She looked in his eyes, shaking her head at his brusqueness. “You thought about it more, what we did?”

He smiled with satisfaction, knowing he’d drawn her into the kind of talk she’d sworn she wouldn’t engage in at her husband’s party. “I think of weird little things . . .”

“Yeah—like what?”

His eyes scanned her body, then: “I think of the sexy knobs of your hipbones, how they jut out cause your stomach is so flat. Think of your tight navel, think how I could see my cock move under your belly . . .”

Unexpectedly breathy: “You could see that?”

He snickered. “You’re a tight tunnel, a perfect glove on my cock, and no woman’s moved better on it.”

His black eyes locked hers, and she felt that heavy feeling again, a saturation in her core, wet with sudden need.

His eyes shifted leftward, down the alley. Hers followed suit, saw no spies aiming their attention toward them. Devlin touched her hand, just over the curve of her wrist, his thumb stroking her skin. She didn’t pull away, enjoyed his touch against her. “Tell me when,” he said.

She whispered, “You tell me . . .”

***

Karina and Meyer met him around the corner on the patio steps, Steve looming above them. Quinn, too, being nosy. Karina recognized the disgruntled look on his face seeing everybody watching and waiting. She put her hands on him, both hands on his collar, slowing him down and saying, “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” he said, avoiding her gaze, looking at the others. Was everybody watching him and Kimmy and Devlin? “Nothing,” he said again, “he just came by because Kimmy saved him a lot of money. I don’t really know what it’s about . . .”

“Hey,” Karina said, still with her hands on his shoulders, “you okay?”

He stopped, realized despite the chagrin he felt twisting up his insides, he had to put on a braver face for everyone. He laughed, said, “Sorry, yeah, no, I’m okay.” Then: “Looks like I’m spending the weekend in the Caribbean.”

Meyer took a step down, peeked around the corner down the alleyway at Kimmy and Devlin again, saying, “What do you mean?”

“The company’s sending Kimmy to Cayman for the weekend. Like a business-slash-pleasure trip, and I’m going with her.”

Steve’s eyebrows raised so high the small space between them and his hairline furrowed into a half-dozen lines. “The Caribbean? Holy shit, Josh . . .”

“I know,” he said, running a hand through his hair, trying to parse the situation. Was he embarrassed? Why did he feel embarrassed? Was it because his company didn’t provide them with a vacation to the Caribbean? Or was it that it was Stone himself sending him and Kimmy somewhere exotic and expensive? It was all those things at once, and now put in tight proximity with his friends, he was unable to express to them anything truthful, saying, “I’m going to have to buy some suntan lotion . . .”

Meyer supported him, offering up the downside: “It’s sunny here now. He should send you guys when it’s winter . . .”

“Right?” Like it made any sense to complain about such a wonderful weekend gift.

Steve said, “I’ll go if you don’t want to.”

They all laughed, and it broke some of the spell he’d been under. Quinn had heard enough and now returned to the table. He wondered what she would whisper to her friend Samara. Kimmy’s definitely fucking her boss, or, Fucking Josh gets a trip to the Caribbean and isn’t even grateful. What a misogynist. So what if his wife has a better job than him . . . 

He said to Steve: “What, you and Kimmy? What about me?” Lame, but it kept the laughter rolling a moment as he regained his composure.

Steve threw up his hands like, Hate to do it to you, but whatever way I can get it I would go . . . And seeing Steve’s natural response to a Caribbean trip juxtaposed with accompanying Kimmy reminded Josh of Devlin’s offer to take Kimmy instead of him. What a fucking asshole. Who would say something like that to a woman’s husband? Oh, I’ll take your fucking wife for you. Devlin was such a piece of shit. It was barely funny when Steve implied it, and Steve was a good friend. Devlin was nothing to him . . . 

Now he was shaking his head, and Karina finally let him go, finding some amusement in his irritation. She peeked around the corner as well, watching for Kimmy. She said, “It doesn’t sound too bad, Josh.”

With reluctance, he said, “No, the . . . fucking guy made it sound like it’s something we should get use to, too.”

“Going to the Caribbean?”

“No, well, yes, I guess, but bonuses in general. He doesn’t want to pay her more, because of taxes . . .”

“Jesus Christ,” Steve groaned. “How much is he fucking paying her?” Then he looked away, embarrassed when everybody side-glanced him, realizing that was a question you didn’t ask, even though Josh was sure Steve hadn’t mean it to be answered.

“Well, good for Kimmy,” Meyer said, nodding, his mouth turned down in an affirmative U-shape.

He agreed. “Yeah, good for her.”

Steve turned and set his beer glass down on the table next to his where Kimmy would be sitting, came back reached down to pull Josh up to the patio. “Get up here,” he said, “hey, come on . . .”

Josh trudged to join him on the patio.

Steve said, “Dude, a guy who’s going to the Caribbean for the weekend should have a much happier face. All expenses paid?”

“Yeah.”

“Come on, Josh—how is it I’m happier about it than you are?”

“Private plane, too,” he said now, smirking.

“The guy has his own plane?”

Karina scoffed. “I doubt it.”

“No, “ Meyer said, probably like still a charter or something, I don’t know how it works.”

Steve was still impressed. “Either way . . . Josh, you have to appreciate how lucky you are . . .”

Meyer laughed and interjected, putting a hand on Steve’s arm and saying, “he’s good,” laughing still, “Josh’s good, man . . .”

Josh agreed too. “I’m good,” he said, trying to show a brighter face. His chagrin was becoming the point of focus, and everybody else from Swanson sitting at the table was looking his way now, trying to decipher what it was that was happening. A real live soap opera playing out before their eyes. So he laughed, punched Steve’s arm good-naturedly in a theatrical way, a performance for his audience. Meyer moved away, heading to return to his seat, stopping mid-table to lean close to Quinn and talk. Josh shooed Steve away saying, “It’s nothing, you’re totally right. I don’t know how to accept good things . . .”

“You totally don’t, man,” Steve said, wagging a finger at him but then returning to the table. Josh put his hands in his pockets and pivoted, intending to linger at the stairway to wait for Kimmy’s return. Karina was smirking at him.

She said, “Very impressive, Josh.”

He smirked too. “You think so?”

“I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks,” he said.

Now she got closer like she had something else to say, something more private. When she was at his side, she said, “Kimmy says—I’m probably talking out of school, but I don’t care—Kimmy says you guys have never been better.”

“She said that?”

“She did. Don’t you think so?”

“I don’t think we were ever bad,” he said, frowning, looking away.

Karina said, “No, but after Tiffany’s...”

“What about after Tiffany’s?”

Karina’s brow lowered with the weight of concern. “She told you . . .”

He winced, grumbled. They’d talked and Karina knew—but of course, she’d been there . . .  He said, “About . . . Devlin?”

“Yeah . . .”

He sighed, looked aside where Kimmy might appear, feeling uncomfortable. “Yeah we talked about it,” he said. “So Kimmy said to you we’ve never been better?”

“Shoot, Josh, I didn’t mean for this to be worrying. I shouldn’t have said anything. I was trying to be positive . . .”

“No, Karina, it is positive,” he said, “it’s just that . . . Yeah, we are doing really good right now. But I don’t know if I would say we’re . . . Like better than ever. That would mean she thought we weren’t good before . . .? Doesn’t it?”

“No,” she said, “Jesus, Steve is right. You don’t know how to take good things. She smiled, running her fingers on his upper arm and then squeezing his elbow.

“You think that’s true?”

She pooched out her lips, tucking her chin down and looking in his eyes. “I think you’re prone to worry, old friend.”

“I am,” he said. “I don’t want things to change. I like the way things are . . .”

“Well, Kimmy thinks they were pretty good and now even better. And, if it matters, from an outside set of eyes, you two look like you’re really in love . . .”

“That’s for sure,” he said. “Maybe you’re right. I have never loved her more than right now . . .”

“You know how valuable she is.”

“I really do.”

She stroked his arm again. “I think she really knows how valuable you are, too. She tells me.”

“She really does?” He couldn’t help smiling.

“Look at that smile on your face, Josh. Yeah, after everything that happened . . .”

“At Tiffany’s?”

“She regrets it, you know, it was awful. I think she needed a reminder . . .”

“About me?” A cavalcade of concepts were coming at him so fast, like Karina’d taken a deck of cards, bowed them outright until they flashed out of her hands and into his face. What was she saying? And why did he always look for the bad whenever somebody told him something? He said, “You’re right, I need to open my arms to the good for once.”

“That’s very Dr. Phil of you.”

“Is it?”

She laughed. “I don’t know, I don’t watch Dr. Phil. It sounds Dr. Phil.”

“It doesn’t sound like something I’d say,” he said, and now they both laughed. “Very inspirational. I see it written in fancy script on a sunset sky, like on—”

Karina finished it: “Like one of Tiffany’s Facebook posts.”

They both snickered, and she leaned against him. It was funny to think how much she’d meant to him at one point in his life. And how all of that could crumble away with the passing of time.

Then Kimmy was there, trotting quick in her high heels, coming from the alley up the steps, stopping short when she saw the—abruptly like she was startled. And then she smiled, saying, “What’s so funny?”

“It’s a long story,” he said, putting his hand out to help her up, “but the punchline is: Tiffany’s Facebook posts.”

Kimmy said, “What about them?”

He waved it off like it was too much to explain. “Inspirational quotes and all that . . .”

Kimmy got it, and she laughed too, her eyes flicking from Karina to him then back to Karina.

Karina said to Kimmy, “Devlin fucking Stone,” but the smile stayed on her face.

Kimmy raised her eyebrows, rubbed the back of her neck, looking sheepish. “Devlin fucking Stone,” she repeated in the same low tone.

“Who would’ve thought,” Karina said.

He said, “Never in a million years.”

Karina chuckled with them, then rolled away and left them alone, returning to her spot at the table.

He looked to Kimmy, put his hands out waist-high and she slunk against him, his hands going around to the small of her back. “What an ordeal,” he said.

“You did so amazing,” she said.

“You think so?”

“I really think so,” she said, and now she smoothed her hand on his chest, turned her face to his, eyes narrow and sultry looking, dark pupils quivering over his. “You were a little rude, but I understand.”

“Rude? Me?” He smiled ruefully.

“It wasn’t too bad. Are you good?”

“Uh-huh.” He nodded, swaying with her. Fucking getting hard for some reason. Right with a whole table full of their friends a few feet behind him.

She said, “We get a free trip out of it.”

“The Caribbean, huh?”

“You up for it?” she asked, melting further against him, her hands going to his waist now, rubbing up his sides from hipbone to ribs, the flat between her own hipbones rested against the belly of his hardness. She felt it—her eyebrows rose and she snickered.

“I’m a little excited.”

“I didn’t know you liked the Caribbean so much.”

Now they both snickered.

“Kiss me,” she said, and as he did, her hand slipped between them and his dirty wife pinched the head of his cock between thumb and two fingers.

He held her, let their kiss part, looking in her eyes as she now traced the edges of his bulge. He wondered what she thought. Wondered what went on behind those narrow and sometimes dark eyes. Had he put it in her head that Devlin had a large bulge in his pants? Was that something she thought of now? Was she thinking of it now?—comparing his bulge in his suit pants to the one in Devlin’s? Now she knew it turned her husband on, would she allow herself to think such dirty things?

Now she said, “Can you get off work on Friday?”

“I’m sure I can,” he said.

“I hope so,” she said, knuckles stroking his cock’s belly.

The simultaneous pleasure of her hand touching his arousal, the mystery of her words—that dark wonder of his considering if he couldn’t go Devlin would take his place—plus the proximity of the public witnessing his wife’s strange lubriciousness all together had his knees wobbling. Since working for Devlin, Kimmy had never been more sexual. God, more kinky . . .