Devlin and Garrick by Cameron Dane (best big ereader TXT) 📗

“Excuse me.” Devlin signaled the bartender before the guy stepped away and strutted his amazing ass down the bar for someone else. The stud looked up at him, and Devlin said, “Can I go ahead and pay my tab please?”

As soon as Devlin got a nod, heat from another source rode his back, drawing a shiver down his spine. Then a voice as smooth as expensive bourbon sank into his ear. “I wondered how long it would take you to ask for the check.”

The towering muscular body that went with the deep, rich voice slipped in between the barstools and leaned against the empty one next to Devlin.

“You don’t look like you belong here, beautiful,” the man said. He looked right at Devlin and nearly stopped Devlin’s heart.

Devlin opened his mouth and was surprised his voice didn’t come out as a croak. “Neither do you.”

Holy shit. That was the understatement of the year. The man wore a leather jacket with a white T-shirt beneath, faded jeans, and biker boots, but that wasn’t exactly what had Devlin swallowing funny. Not even close. Indigo colored tattoos that looked almost tribal in design covered part of this man’s smooth, bald scalp and went down to a corner of his forehead, around his left eye, over part of his cheek, and down his jaw line to his neck, where the pattern disappeared under his shirt.

“You’re right. I don’t belong here.” The guy answered Devlin’s question, drawing Devlin’s attention to his sensuous mouth.

The bartender came up right then and slid a credit card receipt and pen in front of Devlin. Devlin added a tip and signed. All the while, every molecule in his being snapped to life and shot to the parts of his body closest to the tattooed man leaning next to him.

Devlin handed the signed receipt back to the bartender with a murmured “Thank you.” He said another prayer of thanks when his hands stayed steady. God knew the rest of him shook inside.

“So.” The tattooed man stayed on his barstool, allowing Devlin plenty of running room. Fuck, though, his pure green eyes held Devlin captive and made him feel stripped bare right in this techno club. “Do you want to get out of here?” That rich voice slipped into Devlin and infected his blood. “With me?”

“Yeah,” Devlin automatically answered. What the fuck is wrong with me? Devlin darted his tongue out and wet the edge of his lip as his nerves skittered into overdrive. “I think I do.”

The man dropped his focus to Devlin’s mouth. It stayed there as he stood and moved in close. He curled his hand around Devlin’s neck, pulled him in, and licked right over where Devlin had just dipped his tongue. Devlin jerked; the small contact shot tingles all the way through his body and moved quickly into his jeans. The guy’s fingers dug into Devlin’s nape right before he murmured a curse and licked Devlin’s mouth again, this time drawing a needful little noise of out of Devlin he could not control.

“Damn it.” The man’s voice suddenly thicker, he let go of Devlin’s neck and grabbed his hand. “We have to get out of here right now. Let’s go.”

“Wait!” Flashing red lights signaled in Devlin’s mind, and he tugged against the bigger man’s vise-tight hold on his hand. When the guy looked back, Devlin said, “I don’t even know your name.”

The man smiled, and it went all the way up to his eyes. He let up his death grip on Devlin’s hand, and instead threaded their fingers together in a gentler, but no less sure, hold. “Gradyn Connell. My mom and my sister call me Denny, and most everybody else calls me GC. What’s yours?”

“Devlin Morgan.” Devlin grinned back. Couldn’t seem to rein it in. “Some people shorten it to Dev. Doesn’t bother me one way or the other.”

“Okay, Devlin, now we know a little something about each other.” Gradyn looked down at their linked hands and then came back up to Devlin’s eyes. “Or have you changed your mind about leaving with me?”

“No.” Oh God. This is possibly the stupidest thing I’ve ever done. Risky-crazy-stupid or not, something in Gradyn Connell’s eyes made everything else that was a little bit scary about him disappear. That green gaze of this man, that didn’t waver, kept Devlin’s hand firmly in Gradyn’s hold when every bit of intelligence he possessed told him this was a bad idea. “I want to go with you.”

Gradyn smiled even bigger. Without another word, he pulled Devlin toward the exit.

This time, Devlin didn’t fight it...

*

...“Do I have to say that word again?” Maddie whispered in a diabolical tone at Devlin’s ear, drawing him away from memories of someone he’d repeatedly promised himself he wouldn’t waste time thinking about anymore.

Five years, Dev. Time to forget that weekend ever happened.

Ignoring Maddie’s threat, and shaking off his own disturbing thoughts, Devlin asked, “Did you figure out the problem with Mr. Courtland’s car?”

“It’s not something I can fix in a parking lot. He doesn’t have time to drive it back out to the garage.” Maddie dangled a set of car keys off one finger, and Devlin would have thought she twirled a diamond ring. “So he left it for me.”

Devlin chuckled as he took another glance at the sweet ride outside. “You have the coolest job.”

“Yeah,” a little smile added to the life shining in his sister’s eyes, “I kind of do. I’m going to need you to drive my truck back to the garage, okay?” Maddie had done the driving, and Devlin’s car was back at her work.

He snatched the corvette keys out of her hand and held them above his head. “Why don’t I drive the ’vette and you drive your truck?”

Maddie surged up from the booth and grabbed the keys right back with a whip-fast move. She smirked for a second but quickly sobered and pocketed the keys. “Mr. Courtland has a heavy foot and hand, and that makes that car very