Make Me Scream Read online

As if to demonstrate, Killer trotted over and proceeded to hump the huge dog.

  “Killer! Knock it off!” Devon grabbed his dog and dragged it away from Petunia. Devon grinned. “He was neutered at the shelter, but he still has high hopes.”

  Francyne snorted. “He’d also have to be hung like King Kong to get any action from Petunia.”

  Jamie shifted from foot to foot. Did she really need the apartment that badly? All the frank sexual talk and activities were more than off-putting. Sex—the act, discussions or otherwise—made her uncomfortable.

  “Here is a traveler’s check for the first and last month’s rent,” Jaime said, shoving the check at Devon. “I signed the lease. May I have the key?”

  “Uh, sure.” Devon looked at her like she was the weirdo. “Let me grab it, and I’ll walk you over.”

  She started to tell him it wasn’t necessary, then she remembered the men in the courtyard. “Great.”

  “Petunia and I need to take a walk,” Francyne said, “if we want to get back in time for Matlock. Nice to meet you, Jamie.” She batted her eyes at Devon and flashed a saccharine smile. “Have a great evening, stud muffin.”

  The men in the courtyard laughed, and Jamie flinched. Lightly grasping her elbow, Devon steered her to the other side, giving the men a wide berth. While she didn’t try to pull away from him, her back straightened, and she picked up her pace.

  “Here we are.” He stuck the key in the door of unit three and jiggled the knob. “You need to fiddle with it a little, but the key works. After you live here a while, it’ll loosen up.” At her stare, he babbled on. “I lived here before I was the manager. It’s been vacant for a while, but it should still be clean.” He swung open the door, reaching in to flip the light switch.

  Jamie peeked around Devon’s shoulder and scanned the small living room now bathed in the weak light of an ancient-looking floor lamp.

  “It’s…orange,” she said. Orange and yellow shag carpeting covered the floor, proving her grandmother’s theory that ugly never wears out.

  The couch, with its cannonball-wooden-post arms, had plaid upholstery comprised of orange, yellow and lime green bright enough to make your eyes bleed. Next to the saggy couch was a spindly looking end table made of what appeared to be genuine imitation wood. How it held the massive glass lamp with the light-up orange base was a natural phenomenon. The wall behind the furniture was painted a bright orange, too. At least, she thought it was. It could have been reflected from the upholstery.

  “And here’s the dining area,” Devon said, hurrying to flip the switch illuminating a yellow and orange daisy swag lamp dangling precariously over a once white formed plastic table. Stained yellow and orange cushions on the plastic barrel chairs completed the ensemble. Shiny bright yellow and orange large daisy wallpaper covered the end wall.

  “I feel like I should say groovy, for some reason.” Jamie walked farther into the apartment and peeked into the tiny kitchen. “Are those brown appliances?”

  “Um, I think they’re called Coppertone.”

  Biting back a smile, she turned to him. “The owners have never updated?” No wonder the rent was so reasonable.

  He stuffed his hands into the front pockets of his jean shorts and rocked back on the heels of his clunky sandals. “Oh, sure, they did. I think it was in 1972.” A lopsided grin transformed his face from scruffy to kind of cute. “I told you, we think they’re planning to sell the complex.”

  She nodded and pushed open a door next to the kitchen. At least the bathroom was clean. Small and brilliantly yellow, but clean. “Well, this should wake me up in the mornings.”

  “Yep, it sure did me, I know.” He motioned toward the bathtub. “I left the shower massage. It still works,” he added.

  “Thanks.” She pointed to another door next to the bathroom. “Is that the bedroom?” At his nod, she pushed the door open.

  “It’s a new mattress.”

  She gazed at the big bed that practically filled the small room, intensely aware of the heat coming from the man behind her.

  Okay, big guy, strip down and let’s take this baby for a test drive. She blinked, heat suffusing her cheeks. Where on earth had that thought come from? They’d just met. Sex was bad enough with someone she knew.

  “You’ll need to get some sheets,” he said, close to her ear.

  Startled, not to mention horrified, she jumped back, eyes wide. “I don’t think so!” Did she have the word slut across her forehead?

  Devon looked at her like he thought she’d lost her mind and then shrugged. “Whatever. I personally like to sleep on a mattress pad and sheets as opposed to a bare mattress.”

  Jamie did a mental head slap. Duh. Get your mind out of the gutter. “Of course. I knew what you meant.” She licked her lips and took a deep breath. “I don’t have a car yet. Would you happen to have an extra mattress pad and a set of sheets I could borrow for a couple of days? Just until I can get to a store,” she hurried to assure him when his eyes widened.

  He nodded. “Sure. I could even spare a blanket. It gets kind of cold at night, especially if you leave the windows open, with the breeze off the Gulf.”

  “Thanks.”

  He glanced around. “If you tell me where your stuff is, I can help you carry it in.”

  She looked at her feet for a second and then met his gaze. “All I have is a small suitcase. I left it outside your door. I hope that’s okay. No one will bother it, will they?” To her knowledge, the men in the courtyard had barely acknowledged her existence, but that didn’t mean they could be trusted.

  “No. It’s safe.” He shifted his weight from foot to foot. “I’ll go get it while you finish looking around.”

  Practically tripping over his own feet, he didn’t breathe until he closed the door behind him.

  Following her around the small apartment, watching the sway of her sweet little ass, his shorts had shrunk two sizes. When she’d licked her lips, his respiration changed. Then when she’d puffed out her chest, he thought for sure she’d fall out of the low-cut neckline. That’s when he knew he had to get out of there.

  He adjusted his shorts and took the long way back to his door in order to get his body to calm down. After months of abstinence, it was primed and ready for action.

  Jamie was the first woman in a long time his dick had been even remotely happy to see. He sure as hell didn’t want to scare her away.

  Jamie opened a vanity door and looked under the sink in her new bathroom. Maybe Devon would also loan her a couple of towels. She frowned. And soap. And shampoo.

  Allowing her legs to push out in front of her, she sat back against the open bathroom door. She’d been in such a rush to escape Fred, she’d taken off without much more than the clothes on her back.

  Thoughts of Fred sent a shiver through her. Money was getting low. If he found her again, she wasn’t sure how much farther she could run.

  “Don’t borrow trouble,” she whispered. She had no reason to think Fred would find her. He wasn’t that smart. The last two times were just dumb luck. She hoped.

  Her thoughts strayed to Devon. He had a nice smile, an open, friendly face. Of course, he could stand a shave. But he was still kind of cute, in a frumpy kind of way. He seemed harmless enough. And she could sure use a friend.

  Jamie’s suitcase felt almost empty. Tamping down the urge to unzip it and see what was inside, Devon strolled toward the group of men at the fire pit.

  Dropping the small suitcase by the center fountain, he plopped down on a vacant wrought-iron chair and stretched his legs toward the fire.

  “Hey,” he said to the group.

  They mumbled their greetings.

  “So who’s the blond chick?” Drew from unit two asked, stretching to look past Devon as if he might find Jamie hiding behind the chair.

  The others quieted, waiting for Devon to answer.

  “Jamie,” Devon answered. “Jamie Cartwright. And before you ask, no, I don’t know much more than that, and, no
, she is not interested in being shown around. Keep away from her until she at least gets settled in. Remember what happened with Alexis.”

  3

  “Aw, shit, Dev, you make it sound like we gang-raped her or something.” Chris scowled and flipped his long ponytail over his shoulder and then crossed his arms over his tanned chest. He referred to himself as a dancer, but Devon knew a stripper when he saw one—male or female.

  “I’m not the one who got in the shower with her,” Drew pointed out then glared at Chris. “I still can’t believe you did that.”

  “So I read the signals wrong,” Chris groused. “Sue me.”

  “You’re lucky she didn’t have your ass thrown in jail!” Drew shot back.

  Todd, the newest resident—until now—shifted and glanced around. Todd worked with Chris and had already gained a bigger reputation with the ladies. He snickered and crossed one bare foot over his waxed leg. “Dude, what were you thinking?”

  Chris took a swig from his longneck beer before answering. “Her pussy was practically dripping for me. Why do you think she was squirming on my lap? Plus,” he said, pointing the beer-bottle neck at the crowd around the fire, “she had her hot little hand in my pants not fifteen minutes before she went to her apartment to shower. Any one of you sons of bitches would have done the same thing. You’re just pissed because she chose me.”

  “That’s not what she told me when she came in to break the lease.” Devon, along with the others, had seen the foreplay in the courtyard and had the same interpretation as Chris. But Alexis told an entirely different story. Not wanting to get in serious shit with the management company—or worse—he’d gladly refunded her deposit and waved good-bye.

  He glanced at his watch and wondered if he’d given Jamie enough time. Immediate memories of her straining sweater had the fabric of his shorts doing the same. Down, boy.

  “But all that’s history,” Devon said with a smile, glancing around. “My point is you need to play it cool with Jamie. We don’t want another woman to run screaming from the complex. I mean, who knows if this one would run straight to the police.”

  The men shifted in uncomfortable silence, and Devon heaved an inward sigh of relief.

  He wasn’t ugly, but he also wasn’t stupid. Compared to most of the specimens gathered around the fire pit, he would come up lacking. He’d had a view of Chris’s package when he crossed his legs. He absolutely did not want to be compared and come up lacking—in any area.

  “Leaving already?” Chris asked when Devon stood and retrieved the suitcase.

  “Hell, no,” Devon answered, wracking his brain for a reason not to return. “I’ll be back in a few. I need to drop off the suitcase. Need more beer? I can make a beer run after I do this.”

  The men voiced their approval, and he nodded, then turned toward Jamie’s door.

  He knocked and waited, his overactive imagination playing out a scene he craved with every cell in his body.

  Jamie would open the door, dressed in nothing but one of the old yellow towels and a smile. He’d kick the door shut just as she dropped the towel, her nipples puckered and hard on her firm breasts.

  “I’ve been waiting for you all my life,” she’d say in her little sex-kitten voice as she walked to him and rubbed her nipples across his bare chest. Her hand would close around his erection.

  He wondered when he’d undressed, but since it was his daydream, he went with it and pulled her into his arms.

  “Devon? Are you okay?” Jamie stood in the open doorway, fully clothed, a puzzled look on her face. Her gaze dropped to his obvious erection, made all the more obvious by his death grip on his shorts. “What are you doing?”

  Did he detect horror in her voice? Damn straight, he did. Of course she was horrified to open her door to find her apartment manager fondling himself. Hell, he was horrified.

  “Ah…” Think, McCloud, think! What would Trent do? He’d whip out a smart-ass reply, that’s what. “Um, I read once if it moves, fondle it.” He grimaced. Smooth, real smooth.

  Her eyes widened. “Excuse me?”

  “Ha. Ha. Just kidding.” His smile felt as if it might fracture his cheeks, but he’d be damned if he’d retreat. She hadn’t slammed the door or screamed. That had to mean something.

  She just stood looking up at him, making his mouth water with the view he had down her cleavage.

  In his mind, she was naked again. This time she stood beneath the daisy light, the shadows playing peekaboo with her close-shaved pussy. She placed one stiletto-clad foot up on the chair, exposing her moist lips. He briefly wondered when she’d put on high heels, but since he was lost in his sexual imagination, he put it out of his mind.

  She reached between her spread legs and flicked a tiny gold ring.

  His penis tried to escape his shorts the hard way—through his zipper. Oh, my God, she had a pierced pussy. The little gold labia ring sparkled in the dim light.

  “What did you say about a ring?” She closed the door behind him, once again fully clothed. Damn. “I didn’t bring any jewelry, so if you found a ring, it’s not mine.”

  “Oh. Ah, okay.” He glanced around the living room. “Where would you like me to put it—the suitcase. I’m talking about the suitcase. Where would you like me to put the suitcase?”

  She walked closer and peered into his eyes. “Devon, are you sure you’re okay? You’re kind of flushed.” Her cool hand singed his forehead. “And, no offense, but you’re kind of babbling.”

  She was close enough to kiss. The lightbulb from the daisy lamp did marvelous things to her skin.

  He wanted to lick it. Lick her. All over.

  Great. Now he was babbling to himself, too.

  Would she freak if he pulled her into his arms and tried to kiss her?

  “No,” she said and stepped back. “I wouldn’t freak, but I don’t want you to try it.”

  Shit. He must have said it out loud.

  “Yes, you did.”

  Damn! He did it again.

  She eased the suitcase from his fist. “Thanks for bringing my suitcase. I think it’s time for you to leave.”

  He swallowed, the feel of his Adam’s apple dragging down his throat like a tennis ball. “I’m sorry,” he said in a low voice. “I don’t usually act like this. You’re just so cute and, well, hot, and it was all I could think of when I looked at you standing there. I mean—”

  “Oh, for goodness’ sake!” She grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him flush against her awe-inspiring chest. “Just kiss me and get it over with so we can both get some sleep!”

  Get it over with? Did she really think one kiss would do it and they would go on their merry way?

  He gazed down into her big blue eyes. No. Fucking. Way. If he kissed her—and he fully intended to do so—it was going to be a kiss to remember. Legendary. A kiss to curl her toes. Hell, it may even be a kiss to make her come in her pretty little silk panties.

  He damned well was going to give it his best shot.

  His stomach clenched, his palms sweated. He fumbled in the pocket of his shorts until he found what he sought.

  Sssst! The calming mint of his breath spray gave him the burst of freshness and courage he needed.

  Against his chest, Jamie’s breasts jiggled with her laugh.

  “Don’t laugh, woman,” he said in the sternest voice he could muster. “Good oral hygiene is important.”

  Her smile faltered. “In that case, give me a blast.” She opened her mouth, the sight of her pink tongue and inner cheeks making her seem vulnerable.

  After spraying her delectable mouth, he set the dispenser on the table and pulled her back into his arms.

  “Ready?”

  A slow smile curved her lips. “Yes, I think I am.”

  A breath away from her mouth, he traced her lips with the tip of his tongue, encouraged by the way her breath hitched. Her lip gloss tasted faintly sweet. He closed his teeth on her plump lower lip and held it gently while he ran his tongue
back and forth across it.

  She pressed closer, her breasts flattened against his chest, her breathing becoming shallow.

  He released her lip and made full contact, rubbing his mouth against hers. As he’d hoped, she opened for him.

  Sweet. She tasted as sweet as she looked. And refreshingly minty. Oh, wait, that was the breath spray.

  A sound escaped from deep in her throat, and he deepened the kiss.

  Behind his zipper, his cock did a desperate dance. He tried to put some distance between it and Jamie’s abdomen, but her hands at his hips stopped his effort.

  Something warm and delicious blossomed within Jamie. Wow. Devon certainly knew how to kiss. Her bones felt liquid. She had to lock her knees if she wanted to remain upright. And she did. Fred had made her wary. She wasn’t about to fall into bed with the first guy who turned her on. Been there, done that.

  The kiss went on, drugging her with its passion, seducing her with its promise. Mild surprise registered when Devon cupped her bottom and pulled her closer.

  She should stop, break the kiss. But it had been so long since she’d felt anything even remotely close to desire or passion, and it felt so good, so right. Okay, she was selfish. She was using Devon.

  She wasn’t ready for the kiss to end.

  He pulled her closer, blurring her thoughts with the feel of his erection pushing against her, making her moist, needy.

  She squirmed against him, blindly seeking what his hardness offered. Would it be so bad to take a chance?

  Devon slid his left hand around and down to the edge of Jamie’s short skirt, encouraged when she did nothing to stop him.

  The smooth silkiness of her thigh made him weak in the knees. Up, up, up his hand inched. He paused to play with the incredible softness of her inner thigh, drawing patterns on her flesh.

  She shifted, giving him greater access.

  At the edge of her damp panty, he traced the leg opening with the tip of his finger, holding his breath in anticipation of her shoving him away.

  Instead, she widened her stance. His cock leaped for joy. Maybe his dry spell was finally coming to an end.