She Devil Read online

  That moment had felt perfect in its simplicity.

  I had had everything I wanted.

  I’d had Jamie.

  And I’d thought that if we were together then everything would always be okay.

  How wrong I’d been.

  ‘That was a long time ago,’ I murmur, the words rough in my throat. ‘A lot’s happened in the meantime. Like growing up and having adult responsibilities.’

  ‘What responsibilities?’

  ‘My sisters, for one.’

  He frowns. ‘But they’re adults too now. I’m sure they’re totally capable of looking after themselves.’

  I sigh, feeling the weight of my family’s dysfunction pressing down on me. ‘You’d think so, wouldn’t you? But Maya is so irresponsible and Juno always seems to have her head so far up in the clouds she doesn’t notice life going on around her.’

  ‘I thought they were both happy with partners now. That’s what I heard.’

  I pause before I speak, mulling this over. ‘Yes, they are. That’s true. But I suppose I’ll always think of them as kids needing my support. They were both so young when our mother died and I was the one they looked to to step in and fill that role. I suppose I’ve never shaken it off.’

  He stares at me, his brow a little pinched, as if something’s just occurred to him.

  ‘It sounds like it’s time to do that now, though—let go a little?’

  I shrug, feeling uncomfortable. This conversation is a little too close to the bone for my liking. ‘Perhaps.’

  There’s another weighted pause.

  ‘Come for a swim,’ he says, suddenly getting up from his chair and looking at me expectantly.

  ‘I don’t have a swimsuit,’ I point out.

  ‘Yes, you do. There’s a bikini in your wardrobe.’ He steps away from the table. ‘I’ll see you in the pool in half an hour,’ he says in a no-nonsense tone, striding away before I have time to respond.

  I stare after him, feeling a mixture of irritation at being told what to do and disgruntled respect for his absolute conviction that I’ll do exactly what he tells me.

  That kind of confidence is a strength I’ve not seen in many men.

  And I like it. It impresses me.

  It always has.

  And I guess I need to play by his rules of engagement for the time being, even if the idea of slipping and accidentally showing something real of myself terrifies me.

  But I won’t let that happen.

  I can’t. It’d be a disaster.

  So I guess I’m going swimming.

  Jamie

  I’ve already done fifty laps of the pool before April shows up, a towelling robe wrapped around her and her long swathe of hair pinned up on top of her head.

  I take a break at the edge of the pool and watch her unwrap herself and lay the robe neatly onto one of the sun loungers at the side of the pool.

  I surmise from an almost imperceptible stiffness in her movements that she’s keenly aware of me watching her, but when she turns to face me there’s no hint of discomfort in her expression.

  She’s a pro actress. I’ll give her that.

  Her body is lithe and toned, as I knew it would be, and my heart judders in my chest as I watch her walk to the edge of the pool and execute a perfect dive into the deep end. She remerges about fifteen feet away from me after swimming most of the length underwater. Standing up, she swipes her hands over her face to clear the water from her vision.

  Water droplets cascade down her shoulders, arms and between her breasts and I find I can’t tear my gaze away from her. She really is a breathtakingly attractive woman. Not just physically, but in the indomitable way she conducts herself. She’s totally in command of every move she makes.

  I itch to break that strict control and free her from the constraints under which she puts herself.

  ‘Come here,’ I suggest with a grin when she raises a cool, laconic eyebrow at my examination of her.

  But she doesn’t, damn her. Instead she gives me a shrewd sort of smile that tells me she’s not just meekly going to follow my instructions. She’s going to make me work for it.

  My cock hardens at the defiance I see in her eyes.

  ‘Come here,’ I repeat, with more command in my voice this time.

  ‘I thought we were just having a swim together.’

  ‘Not any more.’

  I can practically see her mind warring with itself as a whole range of emotions flits across her face. Half of her wants to hold her ground and keep an iron control over what happens here, but the other half knows that would be counterproductive. It’s clearly been way too long since she let go and allowed things to happen to her.

  But I know she knows if I’m even going to contemplate selling my father’s business to her she’s going to have to give me what I asked for in exchange. We had an agreement, and April Darlington-Hume is not the kind of woman to welch on a deal. She has a reputation to maintain, after all.

  So she moves towards me, her agile body cutting through the water as though it’s air, until she’s standing right in front of me.

  Her face is bare of make-up now and she looks younger and more approachable for it. She looks like the woman I used to know before she took on this awful corporate persona. Before she smoothed herself out so much none of her former personality remained.

  I experience another wave of nostalgia for that April—the woman who would allow me to see her softer side. Who would smile, laugh and enjoy the simple things in life. Who wasn’t driven by power, status and the demands of her family.

  Where has she gone?

  My heart gives a heavy thump against my chest.

  I want her fucking back.

  With only that thought in my head, I reach towards her, cupping her jaw in my hands and pulling her mouth towards mine. She lets out a small gasp of surprise and stiffens—but only for a second. As soon as I open my lips against hers and slide my tongue into her mouth, I feel her body melt against me. I kiss her greedily, my mouth pressed firmly to hers, my tongue exploring the hot softness of her mouth. Our bodies slip and slide against each other in the water as I wrap my arms around her back and pull her closer. I feel her breasts crush against my chest and experience a fierce surge of longing to explore them with my hands and mouth. I want to hear her moan for me like she used to.

  Moving us to the side of the pool, I pull the bow loose at the back of her bikini top where it’s tied around her neck. Then, after I push her against the side, I take a step back so the straps can slither down her body and the two triangles of material fall away, revealing her breasts in all their glory.

  And they are magnificent. Firm and voluptuous, with those rose-pink nipples which are currently erect and just begging for my attention. I bend to kiss first one, then the other, hearing her ragged intake of breath as I let my hot breath tantalise her skin before sucking down hard. Her body bucks against me as if I’ve hit a pleasure point—which I know, from past experience, that I have.

  I use both hands to scoop her breasts together and I move my head between them, first running my tongue round and round each aureole before sucking down on each nipple in turn, until I feel her whole body shuddering under my touch. She has her back pressed up against the edge of the pool and both arms splayed on either side of her to keep her balanced. When I glance up her head is tipped back, her eyes shut and her lips parted as soft breaths sigh in and out of her.

  She looks glorious there, in the bright morning sunshine, her skin perfect and smooth, the tall column of her throat elegantly extended.

  I want to do more to her. To see, hear and feel more of that carnal need.

  Sliding my hands down her body, I curve my fingers under her buttocks and lift her up onto the side of the pool.

  She lets out a gasp of surprise as I push her legs apart and roug
hly tug aside her bikini bottoms. My gaze locks with hers and she gives me a nod of approval. ‘Go ahead,’ she whispers in a hoarse voice.

  I don’t need any more encouragement than that and lower my mouth to her exposed pussy, which gleams with moisture in the brilliant sunlight.

  Using my fingertips, I gently open her up to reveal the hard nub of her clitoris to my greedy gaze before flicking my tongue over it.

  Her legs jump beside my head and she lets out a soft yelp of approval. So I do it again, then slide the tip of my tongue down between her folds, exploring every part of her pussy, before moving back up to swirl my tongue round and around the periphery of her clit, until I feel her desperation for more direct contact, which I give her after another moment’s pause.

  The low, guttural groan she lets out causes my already hard cock to give a throb of extreme interest. But I ignore my own need and continue to focus on hers, lathing my tongue between her folds then dipping a finger inside her to locate the spot I know drives her wild. Her whole body jerks when I press hard on it and her hips twist with pleasure as instinctively she tries to get me to do it again.

  But I want to hear her say it. To ask me for what she wants. To plead with me to give her what she needs.

  I know she’s enjoying this. I can tell. I know her body so well, even after all these years. But I want to hear it from her lips.

  When we’d first started having sex, she’d been coy and hesitant—she’d been a virgin, in fact—and I’d taken great pleasure in teaching her everything I knew. And she’d responded so well—once she’d allowed herself to give in to her desire. That’s how I knew she’d been lying about not orgasming with me. I knew her tells—her uninhibited displays of abandon—for what they were.

  Like now—the way her fingers are gripping the sides of the pool and the little gurgles of pleasure in the back of her throat. I know them. They make sense.

  I remember.

  Come on, April, lose it for me. Tell me how much you want me, even though you’re desperate not to let me know.

  But she doesn’t. She doesn’t say a thing. She just takes what I’m giving her. And I sense her resistance.

  But I’m not prepared to give up just yet. I know it’s possible to get what I want from her, if she’ll just let go a little...

  I continue to stroke her hard with my finger, making a beckoning motion to catch her G spot every time while using the flat of my tongue to lap her clit.

  She’s shaking with the intensity of the pleasure I’m giving her, but she’s still not letting go. Her lips are clamped shut and her eyes closed, as if she’s fighting this—fighting her need. She doesn’t want to give me the satisfaction of seeing her losing her shit, so she’s still holding back.

  I ramp up both the speed and pressure of what I’m doing to her and I’m rewarded with a low gurgle in her throat. But it’s still not enough. She’s not abandoned, as I want her to be.

  And then, out of nowhere, I feel her coming against my mouth. Her legs shake next to my head and I look up to see her whole body is tense and straining with the effort of keeping herself upright on the side of the pool.

  Her eyes are screwed shut, but she’s not making any noise. She’s completely internalised it.

  This orgasm is for her only. As if she’s just been using my mouth to masturbate.

  I feel cheated. Tricked. Like she’s snuck this orgasm in under the radar without allowing me the satisfaction of giving it to her.

  She’s taken it, but she’s not given me anything back. It’s as if I’ve just performed a practical service for her.

  Fuck!

  Why is she so afraid to properly to let go with me? Has she locked herself up so tightly over the last ten years she’s worried she’ll never be able to put herself back together if she comes apart?

  Is she scared she’ll start to have feelings for me again?

  A fizzing, electric surge of emotion rushes through me at this thought. Do I want that? And, if so, is it only so I can then reject her and finally get my pride back? So I can balance the scales that have been tipped against me for ten long years now, weighing me down, reminding me every fucking time I see her how she’d broken me and turned me into the kind of man I despise?

  A weak, selfish bastard.

  I still as the reality of that thought sucker-punches me in the gut.

  What the hell am I doing? Am I really so pathetic I’m actually more interested in getting my own back on April than finally getting to the bottom of what my father wanted me to know?

  Regret stings the back of my eyes and I pull away from her. I need to regroup and find another way to gain her trust. I sense, deep down, that I’m going to have to give her something first—an apology, I guess—for the way I acted after we broke up.

  But I can’t do that right here, right now.

  I need some time to think first. To put some space between us so I can get my thoughts straight.

  Putting my hands on her hips, I pull her back into the water.

  Her self-satisfied smile vanishes when she sees that I’m not entirely happy with what just happened here.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ she asks, confusion clouding her eyes. ‘Wasn’t that what you wanted from me?

  ‘Not even close,’ I reply, shaking my head and moving away from her.

  I feel her gaze hot on me as I put my hands on the side of the pool and haul myself out of the water.

  ‘What—what do you mean? I don’t understand,’ she stutters, sounding utterly bewildered.

  ‘I’ll see you later,’ I say as I walk away, my muscles tight with frustration. ‘Enjoy your swim.’

  April

  I stare after Jamie as he strides away from me, his powerful body tense with what seems to be anger.

  I’m floored with shock.

  What the hell just happened? I was giving him what he wanted: my acquiescence. At least, mostly. I’m aware I was keeping part of myself back in order to deal with the intensity of the situation, and perhaps he’d felt that resistance and hadn’t liked it. He seems to want me completely under this thrall.

  But I can’t allow that. Not if I’m going to keep my sanity and presence of mind.

  Feeling his mouth on me had been electric, though. I’d had to fight hard not to give in to the joy of it and beg him to make me come.

  Oh God, even though I’ve only just had an orgasm my whole body is aching for more of his attention. I can still feel the ghost of his mouth between my legs, lapping me hard with his expert tongue in exactly the way he knows I like. He hasn’t forgotten. Even after all these years he still knows how to make me crazy with pleasure.

  But he seems intent on making me crazy in other ways too. He’s torturing and tantalising me until I think I’m going to go mad. He’s taking down my defences bit by bit.

  He’s trying to break me.

  I stare in the direction in which he disappeared, my head spinning with tangled fears.

  The worst thing about all this is that I’m afraid I might let him.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  April

  OKAY, NO MORE pussy-footing around, I decide as I take my second shower of the day.

  I need him to know I’m not going to keep putting up with this inconsistent, harrying behaviour. I know he’s doing it to put me off my game, to pay me back for the pain he thinks I put him through, but it’s time to get this ridiculous charade over with now. It’s time to get down to business.

  In honour of this, I tame my hair into a neat chignon and put on the white trouser suit I arrived in to project a renewed statement of my position. I love this suit. It always gives me a lift of self-esteem and helps put a spring in my step, which is exactly what I need right now.

  I stride downstairs and search the living area, the terrace and then the library, looking for Jamie, determined to confront him about the gam
e he’s playing and to find a way to resolve this situation once and for all.

  A strange tension begins to build behind my eyes when it becomes obvious he’s not in the house. Maybe he’s back at the tennis courts or in his gym?

  After checking both of these, and the pool too, I trudge back to the house feeling my previous chutzpah slipping away. He seems to have abandoned me here.

  The thought that he’s punishing me by leaving me alone with just my scrambled thoughts for company sends an arrow of fear through me.

  Would he really do that?

  Probably, I decide—in order to take control further out of my hands. He’s reminding me that I’m on his turf and that he gets to decide how this plays out.

  As I walk back towards the house I notice a movement on the terrace and my heart leaps when I realise it’s Jamie. He appears to be laying out food and drinks for lunch.

  So he hasn’t abandoned me here after all.

  Relief rushes through me, as does a twisted sense of exhilaration at the sight of him. He’s changed too, into casual baggy khaki shorts and a white V-neck T-shirt. He looks good. Relaxed and at home.

  I experience a rush of jealousy for the life he’s made for himself here. God, I’d love to have an island to hide away on when life gets too much. Where I could turn off my raging brain and just be.

  With him?

  I stop dead in my tracks, aware of my fists bunching at my sides, my nails digging into my palms.

  Where the hell had that thought come from? It’s ridiculous to think we could get back what we had all those years ago. Too much has happened to allow for it. And I can’t be with him, not properly, knowing what I do and deliberately keeping it from him. If he ever found out...

  I shake the thought from my head. That’s not going to happen. I told myself ten years ago to bury the truth—for everyone’s sake.

  ‘Are you hungry?’ I hear Jamie shout. He’s spotted me standing there staring at him as he lays the table for lunch.

  I swallow hard and raise my hand in acknowledgement, then start walking towards the terrace.