to Grant.
Mindy did something, but Todd was in the way, so Devon couldn’t see.
Damn. Reality hit Devon.
As the manager, he should put a stop to it. If the other tenants saw what was going on, they gave no indication. Francyne was holed up in her apartment, no doubt dozing in front of the TV by now. But what about Jamie? If she was embarrassed by what they’d done behind closed doors, what would she think about what was going on in the courtyard?
From her front window, Jamie peeked through the curtain to watch the group of men by the fire. Her gaze kept drifting back to Devon. Firelight bathed him in a warm, intimate glow. Though definitely not the most handsome man at the gathering, he was easily the most fascinating.
She watched the play of light on his face as he lifted his beer bottle, the ripple of his throat when he swallowed. What was it about him that called to her?
And what held his attention so thoroughly?
She edged closer to the side of the window. What on earth…oh, my!
Beyond the fire, a man and woman were clearly having sex. Darn. Another guy walked up, blocking her view.
Dropping the curtain, she leaned against the wall and fanned her face and then put her hand over her mouth to stifle the giggle.
She lifted the curtain for another peek. The guy blocking her sure had a great butt, she’d give him that. Under normal circumstances, she’d have enjoyed the view. But right now, he was spoiling hers.
Thoughts of herself in a similar position as the woman in the courtyard shot heat through her, tingling her nerve endings. Fanning away the blush, she tried to conjure up the scene in her mind. But the only man she could imagine doing such intimate things with—and enjoying them so much—was, strangely, Devon. And that was, well, dumb.
She snuck another peek. Would Devon be turned on from what he saw? Would he want to come back to finish what they’d started? More importantly, did she want him to?
She ran her hands over her chest and pushed up her new, impressive cleavage. Would her ex-boyfriend, Fred, or anyone for that matter, even recognize her now?
The image of a stranger stared back at her from the old mirror on the back of the door. She was still in there somewhere. She had to hide for just a while longer.
Flipping on the bathroom light, she leaned close to the mirror to inspect her hair for dark roots. The last highlight job had taken care of most of them, but if she looked close, she could see tiny traces of her once auburn hair.
She pulled her makeup kit from her shoulder bag and rummaged until she found her contact case. The blue contacts folded into the case until she squirted the disinfectant into the little pods and closed the lids. The little bar of soap would have to do for now. She dried her face on the threadbare washcloth she’d found under the sink and then stared at the mirror.
Pale green eyes stared back at her.
“Now you look more like you,” she told her reflection. Turning on her heel, she strode to the bedroom and pulled a nightshirt from her suitcase and then reached into her bra and pulled out the flesh-colored gel sacks, tossing them into their storage box.
It itched where the latex had rested against her breasts, so she hopped into the shower. She could always drip dry. A laugh escaped her. Heck, she could even sleep in the nude now if she wanted to. No one was around to stop her.
Humming, she lathered with the little sliver of soap and rinsed off.
Through the haze of steam, she exited the bathroom only to walk naked into a hard chest.
She screamed and staggered back. Strong hands shot out to steady her.
“I’m sorry!” Devon’s voice sounded strangled. “I knocked. When no one answered, I let myself in to leave the sheets and towels, with the pillows and stuff.” He pointed to a pile of linens on the bed. “Then I heard the shower and thought I’d reach in and leave a towel for you to dry off on.” He shrugged and swallowed. “Then…there you were. Are.” His gaze did a slow track down her nude body. At least, she thought it did. Without glasses or contacts, it was kind of hard to tell. Wait. Naked. She was naked.
Belated modesty washed over her, and she hopped behind the partially open bathroom door. “That still gave you no right to come into my apartment, my apartment, uninvited!”
“I know. I’m sorry. I guess I wasn’t thinking.” He turned his back. “If you want to dry off and get dressed, I won’t look.”
“Darn right you won’t look! Get out of here!”
“I—I can’t. I need to talk to you about something. It can’t wait.” Pause. “After you get dressed, I can help you make the bed while we talk.”
Shoot. If he stuck around, he’d see her. The real her. She looked longingly at the bed.
“Turn off the light.” Maybe if they made the bed in the dark, he wouldn’t notice the discrepancy in her appearance.
“Why? It would make putting on the sheets kind of difficult.”
“Um, I don’t like to be seen without my makeup.”
He sighed. “You may not believe this, but I really don’t care about your makeup. Jamie, I’m tired, and I still have a lot of work to do tonight. I know you must be tired, too. Just throw on some clothes and come out here so we can get your bed made. Then I’ll leave and you can get some sleep. I promise,” he added.
When she didn’t answer, he ran his hands through his hair in a gesture she was already coming to recognize and said, “Fine. Stay there. I’ll make the bed, and you can come out after I leave.”
The soft, squishy feeling came back to her. No one had ever been that nice to her.
Memories of his kiss and her subsequent orgasm ran through her mind. Could she set aside her inhibitions and just let nature take its course? Men had one-night stands all the time. Also a lot of women. Unfortunately not her. But she could…couldn’t she?
Devon told his semierection to behave and flipped the top sheet onto the bed.
The bedroom plunged into darkness.
He reached back for the light switch and encountered a feminine hand.
“Keep it off,” she commanded in a husky whisper.
“Why?” He swallowed around the lump of anticipation in his throat. If he was misinterpreting her intentions again, he’d have no choice but to go home and whack off. Maybe he should find some new ways to use the plethora of sex toys he’d accumulated over the years.
Her hand closed over the bulge in his shorts, and he bit back a surprised yelp. Barely.
“Ah, Jamie?” A trickle of sweat ran down his cheek. If she kept stroking him like that, he’d come in his pants.
Her hands shoved at his clothing until he stood naked. The blackout shade he’d installed when he lived there made it impossible to see anything, but he knew she was naked, too. Naked was a good
