Excerpt for The Devil You Know by Saskia Walker, available in its entirety at Smashwords

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THE DEVIL YOU KNOW


Saskia Walker


Smashwords Edition

Copyright 2011 Saskia Walker


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Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.


Story summary:


Leonie Carlton went to the other side of the world to avoid Mike Racine, because she loved him too much to stay. Their impetuous, fiery physical relationship was passionate and fulfilling, but Mike wasn’t the type to settle down.


After a year working on a coffee plantation in Queensland, Australia, Mike arrives on her doorstep. Despite her resolve to stay cool and distant Leonie is thrown into turmoil by her old lover from the moment he says hello. She knows she can’t afford to fall for him again. But Mike has traveled the world to win Leonie back. The question is, how far is he prepared to go to get her to hear him out?


THE DEVIL YOU KNOW


Leonie Carlton watched the hulking shape of the Land Rover as it weaved along the rough dirt track towards the plantation house. Despite her preparations for this moment, she could barely keep her emotions in check. Mike Racine—the lover she'd wanted to be with so badly, but had failed to understand—was about to arrive on her doorstep.

Leonie would have fought tooth and nail to keep him away—even though she'd dreamt about the man every night since she'd escaped to Australia, twelve months earlier. Thank god she'd been warned he was coming. Mike hadn't wanted her to know. Luckily, Tansy, her old friend back at HQ, had emailed her. Apparently he'd insisted on making the trip. Mike Racine himself was coming to approve their coffee beans. No kidding.

She gave a wry smile and watched as the Land Rover drew to a halt in the gravel drive. With her hands wrapped around the balustrade on the long veranda to anchor herself, she tried not to react. She hadn't even allowed herself to dress any differently that day, just because it was him.

The sun blazed low on the horizon behind the parked vehicle as the afternoon turned to evening. The windscreen was tinted, hiding the occupant from her gaze, but she could feel the weight of his stare nonetheless. She took a deep breath, walked along the wooden veranda until she got to the steps he would have to walk up, and folded her arms across her chest. Her heart raced. The sound of the crickets seemed to grow louder in her ears, her skin prickling with awareness and anticipation.

"Come on, Mike," she whispered. "Give me your best shot."

After what seemed an eternity the vehicle door opened.

Unfurling his tall, limber frame, Mike climbed out, a leather backpack in his hand. He slammed the door behind him, threw the backpack over his shoulder, and walked up the path to the house.

Each step he took made her body tighten with anticipation.

Dressed in boots and faded black jeans, his khaki shirt outlined the breadth of his shoulders and the lean line of his waist and hips. He wore a baseball cap pulled low on his brow. It was a poor disguise—she'd have known it was Mike from his posture alone.

He drew to a halt at the foot of the steps.

She shook her head at him. "You should have let someone else come. You promised you would leave me alone."

He shrugged. "I lied."

Taking off his hat, he eyed her from top to toe, and ruffled his shaggy black hair. It brushed the edge of his collar, longer than it had been. He wore a teasing smile that was so familiar it tugged at something deep inside of her. What struck her most of all was that his expression left her in no doubt of his intentions toward her. He'd come for what had been so good between them—that which hadn't been enough for her, in the end. She'd put it behind her, half a world behind. Why then, did her heart race in response to his nonchalance? Why did her traitorous skin tingle under his scrutiny?

"Damn you, Mike."

"You always did look bloody sexy when you're angry," he commented.

Arrogant prick. It was as if the intervening year hadn't even happened. This was the way it had always been. He used to come to her place late at night. He'd just walk in after some function or other and assume he could have her. But she couldn't resist when he rested his hands on her and walked her back against the wall. They'd be at it, right there in the hallway, before she even had a chance to tell him to leave. He overwhelmed her and he made her need him badly, until one day she got fed up with being his convenient part time lover and decided to put some serious distance between them.

She shook her head, warning him off. "Things have changed."

He lifted his eyebrows, accusingly. "Nothing has changed, that is quite obvious." He always did have the cheek of the devil. "I can see you still want me every bit as much as I want you."

How dare he just throw that out there? She sighed aloud, but her very center was heavy and aching for him, her pussy fast growing damp. "We're not in London now. You can't just come here and expect everything to be the same between us."

"Everything is the same, except for one thing." He paused, and he did it deliberately, emphasizing every word. "I've come a whole lot further for you this time."

Her breath caught in her throat.

It was true. He had come further. But that didn't mean she was just going to fall on her back. Her body, however, seemed to be at odds with her brain on that particular point. His very proximity had unleashed her libido, as if he were a match to her fuse.

"Don't make any assumptions," she snapped.

There it was—that devilish smile, the dark twinkle in his eyes. He scanned her chosen outfit, shorts and a shirt with rolled-up sleeves, practical but close fitting. His inquisitive stare brought back too many memories, memories of how good it had been between them, and between the sheets. He had a thing about licking her breasts, the entirety of them, after they'd made love. Right now her breasts were aching at the memory of it.

He walked up the wide wooden steps onto the veranda, closing the gap between them.

"Let's just get this over with, shall we?" she said, her heart racing. "The owners of the plantation, Frank and Sherri, are waiting inside to hear what you've got to say about the harvest."

He stepped nearer, until he was right up against her. "That's not the only reason I came, and you know it."

He ran the back of his hand down her neck, and the brush of his knuckles against her throat made her shiver. His touch was so startling that it set her adrift on a tide of emotions.

"I never stopped thinking about you, never stopped wanting you. You're looking good, Leonie. Better than ever, in fact."

Maybe I look good because I haven't had to deal with you. She managed to turn away and led him inside the house. As she did, she once again vowed to remain professional throughout the encounter, although she was beginning to see that was going to be easier said than done, especially as he seemed determined to push it. Then there was the fact that his presence strolling behind her was totally magnetic.

It's a year since you've had sex, that's all it is, she told herself, annoyed beyond belief. But she wanted him, always had. And he was so bad for her. When she had failed to understand him—and he'd failed to help her do so—she'd walked away. Far away. Queensland, Australia. She had exchanged a desk job at a leading fair trade coffee importer in London for a hard, hands-on job helping to stabilize and expand a struggling plantation. Working with the owners, she put her years of theory and training into practice at grass roots level. And she'd worked Mike out of her system, or so she thought.

She strode down the hallway and into the family kitchen, measuring each breath to calm herself. Frank and his wife, Sherri, the plantation owners, were standing by expectantly. That made it easier. This was incredibly important to them, and Leonie swung into hostess mode, ushering Mike over to meet them. Once she'd made the introductions, she stepped away. They'd prepared for this moment for so long, and she had helped Frank to choose the finest beans they'd harvested, making sure the mix was perfect.

Mike met them warmly and within moments he made Sherri laugh at length with an amusing anecdote about his long journey. He had that kind of magnetic personality—he could win anyone over. Leonie noticed that the intervening time had added a few more laughter lines around his sardonic smile, and a more relaxed twinkle to those luscious dark brown eyes of his. He looked so bloody attractive. Leonie couldn't keep her eyes off him while he chatted. His broad chest made her fingers ache to touch him, to lock her hands over his shoulders while she pressed her whole body to his in a true physical reunion—the sort she'd only allowed in her dreams.

When she'd first met him, over three years earlier, he'd been the same way, charming people. Her gaze drifted over the body she knew so well. It made her long to gravitate to him, to touch him as a lover might, and she swayed. She was remembering. Remembering this one time when he'd walked into her office and closed the door behind him. Her office door always stayed open. The very fact he closed it sent up a warning flare.

Then he folded his arms across his chest and nodded at her, his mouth lifting at one corner. Dressed in a fine suit he was a wolf in sheep's clothing—polished but predatory. His expression was positively wicked, and he just stood there and looked at her, making sure she knew what he'd come for.

Unable to resist, she'd risen to her feet, her legs weak under her.

When she stepped out from behind her desk, he walked over and urged her behind the filing cabinet, where he hiked her skirt up around her waist and touched her through the flimsy barrier of her French lace panties.

"You can't mean to—"

"Oh yes," he interrupted, "I do mean to. I've been thinking about this all afternoon." Inserting a finger under her panties, he drew them to one side. Then he reached inside with his free hand, and slid a finger into her slit, making her gasp aloud.

Lifting one foot then the other, she grabbed his shoulders and held on for dear life while he stroked her into a frenzy of arousal. She flashed her eyes at him, and he cinched her swollen clit between his knuckles, rocking his fingers gently until she climaxed. Lethal, he was thoroughly lethal. She was still clinging to him—her thighs taut and shuddering, her pussy slick with her juices—when he issued his next instruction.

"Turn around." The look in his eyes spoke of pure mastery.

Following his command, she latched her fingers over the edge of the cabinet. He pulled her panties down her thighs, letting them trail around her ankles where they looked strangely obscene draped over her expensive designer heels. Slowly, lovingly, he'd stroked the outline of her bottom, as if savoring the shape of it, and then moved his hand lower. Even as his fingers opened her up, she grew damper, anticipating him.

A moment later came the merciful sound of his zipper, and his command. "Bend over."

Bent at the waist, she clung to the cabinet as he probed inside her, his cock opening her up, stretching her and filling her to capacity. Leonie kept her eyes on the door, willing it not to open, her grateful pussy clutching his erection as she thought about the humiliation she would experience if someone walked in on them. The threat made her even hornier.

Mike knew that, because he loved pushing her, exploring her boundaries and then edging her over them. And he'd prepared her well. His cock slid easily against her slippery walls, over and over, until he had to put his hand over her mouth when she cried out at her peak, saving her honor amongst those who had offices along the corridor.

He threw her every time. She never knew where she stood.

One day, that was too much. It also wasn't enough.

I wanted more than he could give me, she reflected, staring across Frank and Sherri's kitchen at her ex-lover with a rueful sense of acceptance. She was fated to love a man who couldn't settle.

It was then that she noticed he had his hand hooked over his belt. With a sharp intake of breath, she realized it was the same belt she had given him as a gift, two years earlier. And he'd used it for more than holding his jeans up. He'd used it to stop her struggling against him during sex—which had made her struggle all the more.

Leonie shivered at the memory.

Mike stopped speaking.

Her gaze shot up to meet his.

He was smiling at her accusingly. He knew she'd been looking. He must have been keeping a subtle watch on her. She glanced away from his knowing stare, but images of what he used to do with that belt still flashed through her mind. He'd worn it on purpose today, she was sure of it. He'd worn it to remind her of what they used to be like together.

Sherri was pouring him a cup of fresh brew. The aroma reached Leonie, rich and intoxicating. Pride blossomed in her chest, leveling her head somewhat.

Mike took the cup, breathed the scent in, and then drank heavily. He had a way of holding his cup, ring finger through the handle, cup cradled in his palm. He nodded as he put the cup down. "The sample you sent tasted superb, undoubtedly one of the finest harvests of the year, but there's something really special about tasting it where it's grown, with the people who made it this way."

He put his hand out to shake Frank's all over again.

Sherri was beaming. "Dinner will be ready in about an hour. If you'd like to freshen up after your journey, I'll show you to the guest lodge."

Mike nodded, but turned to Leonie. "Leonie could show me." His gaze raked over her. "I need to go over some facts and figures with her."

Bastard.

"Of course," Sherri replied, and winked over at Leonie.

Had she sensed there was something between them? She looked from Sherri's smiling face to Frank's startled one. The atmosphere had shifted, yes, and their attention was fully on her. They must have guessed.

"This way." She led him out of the back door, down the steps and along the path to the annexed lodge. It was a prefabricated building with a dozen rooms used for guests, and for the workers in the busy harvesting season. It was here in this simple place that she'd made her home for the past year, and here where Sherri had made Mike a room up, right next to hers.

"They seem to be good people," he commented, as their footsteps crunched on the gravel path.

"They are, and they worked hard for this. I think they'll be fine when I leave."

"It was an ambitious project, but you've helped them on their way. You put your stamp on the franchise. That was obvious from England."

He must have been watching her reports, and he wasn't even on the overseeing panel. His job was in marketing, unless that had changed and Tansy hadn't told her.

"Overseeing the plantation has been good for me. I needed to strike out on my own, prove I could do what I was preaching to others about."

She put her hand on the screen door of the lodge, pausing, and met his gaze. "The board seemed pleased with my work." Two weeks before, she'd indicated that she was ready to move on. "Do they want me back in London, or elsewhere?"

He didn't answer her question. He merely smiled.

She opened the door and went inside, her back to him as she paused and waited for him to follow. The narrow corridor had twelve doors off it, and a storage cupboard at the far end. Plain and utility, the building smelled of citronella. Once the screen door shut behind him, she heard his bag drop to the floor and felt his breath on her neck. Then she couldn't smell the citronella any more, because he was so close to her that she could smell him, his cologne, the same one he always wore, and beneath it, his scent. Her eyes closed, savoring it.

He stroked her hair. "Be honest," he whispered against her ear, "you missed me."

She couldn't deny it, so she said nothing.

His hands closed over her shoulders and he turned her around, forcing her to look at him. "Tansy told me you always ask about me when you email her."

Tansy had a lot to answer for. "Idle curiosity."

His proximity overwhelmed her body with need, but her will defied it.

She backed away and out of his grasp.

He closed again, reached out and touched one finger against her neck.

A stifled whimper escaped her lips. She tried to shift, but found herself backed against the wall.

"Idle curiosity? Is that all it was?" He rested the palm of his hand at her collarbone, capturing her, holding her still with his fingers on her collarbone.

She tried to quell her erratic breathing, aware that he could see and feel her reactions. He always had this effect on her. A master of seduction, he could push her buttons so easily. Nothing had changed. The only way to deal with it was to ignore him and not rise to his leading comments.

He lifted a strand of hair from her neck and looped it where the rest was clipped on top of her head. The intimate act threw her, fuelling her desires for him and him alone.

Ignore him.

He bent his head and brushed his mouth along her neck.

Shivers of sensation undermined her resolve. He unraveled her so easily, leaving her thoughts and desires naked and vulnerable. "Don't test me, please," she begged, but her body gravitated toward his.

"Always so ready for this, aren't you, Leonie?"

Heat raced over her. He exposed her, thoroughly. She should demand he stop touching her, but she couldn't. "You promised me. Back in London, you promised that you'd leave me alone. You could at least try to be professional."

"We're not in London now."

She rounded her eyes at him. "You're infuriating."

"And you're so beautiful when you're aroused."

"I'm not aroused. I'm annoyed."

He stroked her cheek. "Your eyes flash and your lower lip trembles. Just the way I remembered."

"Did you come all this way to humiliate me?"

"No. I came all this way because I wanted to be inside you again."

Her breath caught in her chest, her core contracting with need.

"I came because I wanted to hold you, to taste you…to make you come." He smiled. "There's nothing in the whole wide world that feels like that…nothing in the whole world like you, lover."

He wants me. He'd come for her. But wasn't that what he was always like? Always pitching up unannounced, expecting her to fall flat on her back. They never even did normal stuff, like dating. It was work, and sex. She needed more than that.

"You can't just walk in here and treat me as if we were still in a... well, relationship…if you could even call it that. It was far from a normal relationship."

He shrugged one shoulder. "What's so good about normal? If you honestly preferred that you'd be safe at home in London now, not willing to take on the world."

He had an answer for everything. And still he stroked her collarbone, making her traitorous body yearn for him all the more.

"Besides," he added, "I seem to recall you liked being pushed out of your normal, comfortable zones..."

"It always comes back to sex," she snapped.

"I can't help wanting you," he whispered. "I've missed you so much, that's why I had to come." He brushed his thumb over her lower lip, his expression growing more serious. "Don't fight it, Leonie. You know it's going to happen as much as I do."

She couldn't quite comprehend what he'd put into words, cheeky devil. And yet—yes—now that he was here, there was such an overwhelming sense of inevitability about it. She'd been longing for his touch since she'd heard he was coming. Would it hurt to have sex, just one more time? Maybe it would, but she'd already done enough hurting without it. Don't let him take anything for granted.

"Once more for old times sake, huh?" Sarcasm rang in her voice, because that's what he'd said to her when she'd announced she was leaving London.

"Old times were good times."

They were heady days, for sure, but that didn't give him the excuse to barge in and take over after she'd managed to pull away and reshape her life. "Shame you didn't realize that back then."

"I did." He locked eyes with her, holding her gaze. "Just because we didn't do everything by the numbers…what we shared was the best."

She glared at him, hating that he said that now, when he'd been so flippant a year ago.

He gave her a knowing look. "Don't be bitter. It doesn't suit you."

"What do you care?"

"I'll show you how much I care." He pulled his shirt free from his jeans, and undid his belt.

Oh, how her blood rushed, annoyance and lust burning her up from the inside. "Thinking with your cock, as usual?" she snapped.

"You never used to complain."

Images flashed through her mind, images of him over her, back in her flat in Kensington. They rarely ever slept, even when they spent a whole night together. "Arrogant bastard."

"Maybe, but I'd like to point out I've thought about this a whole lot, and not just with my cock." His eyebrows lifted and he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his hips rolling. The belt hung from his hand, a constant reminder of his power over her. "Although I have to admit, it likes thinking about you too...every day, and every night, when I was alone in my bed."

The very thought of him masturbating made her damp. Had he really thought about her? Had he stroked his cock while he was thinking about her, the way she had sometimes coaxed herself to guilty orgasm with his image in her mind?

His jeans were now hanging low on his hips. She could see the waistband of his jockeys and the growing bulge inside them. Her hands ached to hold him, to run her fingers around the edge of his waistband, to feel his warm skin and hard abs against the back of her knuckles as she slid her hands inside to reach for him. Blinking, she rocked on her heels.

"Which is your room? I want to be on your bed while I make love to you." He ran his nose against her hair. "I want to smell your pillow. I've missed your scent. Missed it. Badly."

She let out a long withheld breath, her will to resist him weakening by the moment. He was whispering against her skin, seducing her.

"We need to do this, Leonie, and you know it. If we don't, we'll only be putting it off until later." He drew back and gave her a knowing smile. "Meanwhile, your friends here will have to deal with the tension between us."

Her blood hit boiling point. She'd been about to give in and let him melt away every tension in her body, but the reference to the plantation owners slapped some sense into her. "Jesus, you're saying we can't behave professionally until we've had sex?"

He lifted one shoulder. "It was always like this between us. As far as I can see, nothing has changed."

Her heart pounded. But he was right, damn him. Even though she hadn't touched him, their need for one another was in charge. It was a hurdle they never could get past until they'd given in to the overwhelming chemical reaction that was triggered whenever they were together. Why the hell not, her body screamed.

"Fuck me then," she blurted, "if you think it's the only way to get past it and act like civilized people."

He didn't even blink. "Lead the way."

"I hate you."

"No, you don't."

"Smug bastard." She turned on her heels and strode to the end of the corridor, then turned right into her room. Her heart was beating so hard she could hear her blood rushing in her ears. With one hand, she steadied herself on the chest of drawers just inside the door and watched as he followed.

He shut the door behind him, and then nodded at her shirt. "Take it off."

Apparently he didn't plan to waste any time. I swore I wouldn't do this.

But his control over her hadn't diminished an iota. Her fingers were automatically on the buttons, doing as he commanded. "I hate you for this."

"Why?"

"Because I can't say no to you."

"Just me?" One eyebrow lifted. He gave her a teasing glance.

"You are insufferable. Yes, just you. Bastard." He'd wanted to know, though. Did he think there had been others? A legion of fit Aussie harvesters who kept her company in bed at night? Perhaps she should have let him believe that, but she never was very good at lying, hence the predicament she currently found herself in. The plan was to say no and pretend she meant it. What a ludicrous notion.

When she dropped the shirt to the floor, he nodded at her bra.

Reaching around, she undid the clasp, muttering curses under her breath. Whether she was cursing him, or herself, she wasn't quite sure any more.

When the bra joined the shirt on the floor, he smiled appreciatively. "I've missed your breasts."

Her nipples were already peaked, and they quickly knotted under his gaze. He didn't touch her, he just ate her up with his eyes, and that made her even more edgy. It was his way—making her desperate for him by doing next to nothing and yet controlling her so thoroughly with his words and actions. She inwardly cursed herself, but she wanted him, there was no denying it.

"And the rest." The belt snaked in his grasp.

Kicking off her shoes, she undid the button and zipper on her shorts, dropping them to the floor and stepping out of them. She paused. He didn't even have to say the words. She felt the weight of his command and rolled her panties down her thighs, abandoning them too.

Stepping closer, he lifted her wrists into one strong hand and bound them together with his belt, securing them by buckling the belt into the extra hole he'd cut for this very task, so that the loop fit her bound wrists perfectly.

The restraint melted away her last shred of resistance. She was his now, if only for this moment. Her eyes shut, savoring the freedom in that, savoring the tight bondage around her wrists and how it made her feel.

Mike sighed heavily. "It's a dire situation when a man has to travel half way around the world for a good lay."

He spoke as if to himself, but it turned her on even more because it was like a raw confession, one that her ego needed to hear, one that he had never uttered before. She gave a husky laugh, but her heart soared—anticipation, and sheer, heady delight at his comment making her dizzy. "Is that what I am, a good lay?"

He nodded. "The best."

Her head dropped back. Her body felt boneless. He'd never said anything like that to her before.

Leading her to the bedside with a tug on the belt, he gestured, indicating that she lay down. She sat, and then lay flat out. It was getting difficult to breathe. He lifted her hands with the belt, jerking them at the wrist so that her arms were straight and her breasts rolled together. He seemed to like the way that looked, and strapped her to the metal bedpost, bending the soft leather belt over on itself and looping it through the buckle, to hold her in place with her arms above her head. When it was done, he rested a kiss on one nipple, making her arch against the surface of the bed.

She watched as he stripped off. His body, so familiar, made her ache. The sight of his naked, erect cock set her on fire, and she wriggled against the restraints.

He shook his head, ran his hand over her belly and then lower, pushing a finger into her slit. "Open your legs. Let me see you."

She did as he said. He watched while he stroked his cock with one hand. The way he was looking at her was so blatant. With her legs splayed, her burning pussy was exposed. Liquid dribbled down in between her buttocks. Her clit was buzzing with the need to be touched, her sex gaping and yet contracting inside.

He climbed over her, landing with his hot cockhead against her splayed pussy. Her clit leapt, the contact making her legs thrash wildly. "Always so eager," he murmured, pushing her loosed hair back as he looked down at her with curiosity in his expression.

Had he doubted she'd still want him? It was there, ever so briefly, in his eyes. And then he was nudging inside her and thoughts melted into sensation.

He pushed. The walls of her aching sex stretched to accommodate him, her pulse pounding, silently screaming: so good. Being filled by this man—who she loved so desperately—was even better than she had remembered during all those nights tossing and turning. It didn't matter if it was a day or a year, there was no memory or dream as stunning as that feeling of being suddenly filled, his hard shaft plowing her deep. Then he hit home, brushing her core, and she moaned loudly and lifted within her restraint, her back arching, her shoulders jerking up from the surface of the bed.

"Oh yes," he murmured, and kissed her mouth.

All that pent up regret and longing, all that frustration poured out of her, and she locked eyes with him and ground her hips to meet his.

He thrust his cock deep inside her.

"You didn't come all the way here...for this," she managed to accuse, with a gasp for air on his thrust, "surely?"

He nodded, his brow drawn down with the effort.

"It's a long way to...come...for a shag, Mike."

He gave a hoarse laugh, and pulled out, urging her to chase after him. Her hips reacted of their own accord, reaching for him, angled up from the bed. Her pussy brushed fleetingly against his cock. Her hands moved helplessly in the belt.

With a soft chuckle, he thrust home again, making her gasp. "Oh yes, I came here for this, but not just for a one off. For you, all of you. I want you to be mine."

A tight fist contracted in her chest. Her gaze searched his, looking for the truth.

He eased back inside. "Yes, I love you, you crazy diamond," he whispered, and his eyes shone.

Tears of relief blurred her vision. Her heart beat frantically, the ache in her chest blossoming into joy.

He nodded at her, reinforcing his words. Then he lifted on his arms and started to thrust hard and fast, massaging her most sensitive places, sending hot tides of sensation over her entire body.

She cried out, trying to hold back to gain the measure of his words, but it was too much. Her whole body had been ready for this for far too long, and now he was inside her and she couldn't help shouting her joy. Her body met his, her hands wrapped around the leather belt for purchase.

Hard and fast, they thrashed out their longing, their differences, and their desires. The bed rattled and shunted on the tiled floor, creaking loudly.

Her core spasmed.

Relief was imminent.

"You feel so good." The words were wrenched from his lungs. "I want be here forever."

He was close, and she knew that because she knew this man so well.

Her climax hit, and her whole body shuddered with the force of it. She held him deep inside and squeezed his cock hard with her inner muscles. He clutched at her, his cock jerking, his fingers in her hair and words of love on his lips as he came.


* * *


Mike was kissing her. Leonie was in heaven.

He kissed her eyelids, her forehead, and then the tip of her nose. He rubbed his face against hers, grazing her with his stubble, then he teased his lips against hers while he cupped her face in his hands.

"Untie me," she pleaded, aching to hold him.

"Maybe." He smiled, as if to himself. "I like you this way," he added, and his voice was hoarse with emotion, "because you can't run away from me again while I've got you tied up."

"I didn't run away."

His eyelids lowered but not before she saw it—she'd hurt him. He masked it quickly and reached for the belt. When he unbound her, she touched him, holding him eagerly.

Am I dreaming? His hard body under her fingers seemed to deny that. Moving her hands along his flank, she drew back and looked at him, needing the constant reassurance this had really happened.

He rested alongside her and ran his hand up the length of her arm. "You're different, leaner."

"I've been working hard."

"You have. It suits you." His expression softened, and yet his fingers lingered around her biceps, stroking her as if he was acquainting himself with the physical changes that had been brought about by hard labor.

"You are different too, more wrinkles." She touched her finger over his face.

"That's your fault." He smiled.

"Oh, right, my fault." She laughed softly.

They continued to explore the newness they found in each other. Leonie wanted to savor every moment. She didn't want to ask him if he really meant what he'd said, not yet.

He turned his attention to her chest, and licked her right breast, long and slow, eking out her afterglow, making her even more warm and languid. Her hips stirred against the bed, heavy in the afterglow, and yet warming for more action. Her fingers curled over the abandoned belt, anchoring her. "Why the belt?"

"Thought you might not be so willing." He moved to her left breast. "Thought that I'd have to convince you."

He had doubted her need for him. But still he came...

"Willing?" she teased, on an intake of breath, when he pleasured her sensitive breast with his kisses.

Then his cock began to stir against her and he seemed to make an effort to gather his thoughts. "There's something else I need to say, a few things actually."

"What?"

"It's about work." He drew away, ever so slightly, but she noticed.

If this was about work did that mean he had moved on already—that he had already shelved the intimacies said in the heat of the moment?

His expression grew more serious. "The board of directors suggested new post for you. They like what you've done here. You gave a new franchise confidence. The board want you to do it again, with a bigger project. They haven't given all the details yet, just wanted me to run it past you, in theory." There was a certain sense of misgiving in his tone. "I can tell you it's in South America. The plantation is big, up to five times the size of this, and the conditions are harsher."

It sounded like the sort of new challenge she wanted, but he was wary. Maybe he didn't want her to go. Was this an either/or situation?

"I've learned a lot," she said, cautiously. "I'm willing to think about it."

His eyelids lowered. "They are offering it to you under one condition."

His mouth twitched, and she sensed he was trying to play it deadpan.

"Condition?"

"Just one. You work with someone else." He met her stare and the twinkle in his eyes made her heart thud in her chest. Curiosity and hope gripped her.

"Who?" Her voice was barely a whisper.

He shrugged. "Yours truly."

"But you said you'd never leave London, you said you'd never tie yourself to anyone or anything—"

The words tumbled out, but he put his finger against her lips, hushing her. "I changed my mind. If you agree, we'll do it together, and you'll be the expert." He stroked his hand down her flank, his expression serious. "I'll just be the newbie who wants to be alongside you."

She knew that was hard for him, and she knew that he was offering the sort of commitment he'd never been able to do before. "Are you sure you've thought this through?"

He nodded. "I've thought about nothing else for the last twelve months, since the moment you left. I love you, Leonie." He paused. "I couldn't be what you wanted, back then. I know that I let you down. But now, it's different. I had a nasty shock, when you went away. I thought I could handle it, but it tore me apart. I realized what an idiot I'd been."

She almost couldn't stand it. His confession made her ache.

He drew her hands to his mouth and kissed them both reverently. "You did the right thing. I needed a kick up the arse. You're the best thing that has ever happened to me. If you'll have me, we can go on together. I want new challenges too, and I want to be with you, always."

She tried to keep the smile from her face, but failed. "Hmm, now let's see…a new assignment." She locked her hands over his shoulders. "I'd have to give it some serious consideration."

"Don't make me wait too long, or I might have to force the issue." He prized her legs open again, his cock hard against her thigh, his mouth nuzzling her throat hungrily.

A sense of heady, heady bliss saturated her. She lifted her hips and encouraged him back in.

A tentative knock sounded at the door.

Sherri coughed outside the door, in the corridor. "Hey folks, I just wanted to let you know, dinner is just about ready."

"I'll be right there," Mike managed to respond, as he eased his cock inside Leonie. "I'm just freshening up."

"You're in my room, idiot," Leonie whispered. She couldn't help laughing. When she did, his cock buoyed up against her most sensitive place. "Oh, oh, oh," she murmured.

"Okay," Sherri called our. "No rush, it'll keep. I figured you guys had some…freshening...to do. I put your bag outside the door, Mike. You left it in the hallway." They heard her chuckling as she walked away.

Mike fixed Leonie's gaze with his, his hips pinning her to bed. "Well?"

"What if I ask for it to be someone else, for the sake of my sanity?"

"I want us to be together." He pulled back and then thrust inside her, demandingly. "Stop toying with me and agree, damn it!"

He was actually fretting about her response. She could see it in his eyes. She could also feel it in his needy thrust. "Oh," she said, in between gasping for breath. "I suppose it might be better to be with the devil I know..."

"Agree. Or we'll never make it to dinner."

She gasped as he rolled his hips from side to side, has shaft massaging her. "Looks like you've me got over a barrel," she managed to reply.

"Now that I'd like to see." He plied her with kisses. He reached down and stroked his one finger back and forth over her clit, brusquely, demandingly.

"Agree," he urged again, taking shallow thrusts.

This time she met his gaze on every move, watching him in wonder as he made very part of her sing. She felt herself fluttering open deep within, each internal kiss like a seal on what had been said. Crying out, she climaxed suddenly and unexpectedly.

"It's a deal," she managed to blurt out, and then wrapped her legs around his hips, locking him in place while he poured himself into her and his cock jerked in release.

"I love you, Mike," she whispered, as he rolled her into his arms.

Even if she could have resisted him for a moment longer, it didn't matter any more. The devil she knew was right where she wanted him to be—in her heart, in her soul, and in her bed.


###


ABOUT THE AUTHOR


Saskia Walker is an award-winning British author of erotic fiction. Her short stories and novellas have appeared in over seventy international anthologies including BEST WOMEN’S EROTICA, THE MAMMOTH BOOK OF BEST NEW EROTICA, SECRETS, and WICKED WORDS. Her erotica has also been featured in several international magazines including PENTHOUSE, BUST, and SCARLET. After writing shorts for several years Saskia moved into novel-length projects. Her erotic single titles include ALONG FOR THE RIDE, DOUBLE DARE, RAMPANT, and THE HARLOT. Fascinated with seduction, Saskia loves to explore how and why we get from saying “hello” to sharing our most intimate selves in moments of extreme passion. She has lots more stories in the pipeline! Saskia lives in the north of England, close to the beautiful Yorkshire moors, with her partner, Mark, and a houseful of stray felines. Visit her website for more info.


Connect with Saskia Online:

Twitter: http://twitter.com/saskiawalker

Smashwords: http://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/saskiawalker

Blogspot: http://www.saskiawalker.blogspot.com/


THE DEVIL YOU KNOW is a Walk on the Wild Side release
Anne Calhoun
Portia Da Costa
HelenKay Dimon
Alison Kent
Charlene Teglia
Saskia Walker
Sasha White
http://walkonthewildsidebooks.com/
go Wild with us!



If you enjoyed THE DEVIL YOU KNOW you might also enjoy:



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POWER OF THREE by Portia Da Costa

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AT HIS MERCY by Alison Kent


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With a marriage in trouble, there's no such thing as fighting fair…


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