Free Live for Me by Erin McCarthy Page B

enough to me that I could smell his light cologne, or maybe it was just his deodorant. See his bare skin, that golden chest, like the color of a roasted marshmallow, close enough I could reach out and touch it. I wondered what his body would feel like. All those muscles. All that hardness. My experience with guys was limited to a few skinny high school boys who had wanted to cram their fingers down my jeans while trying to inhale my mouth with vacuum lips.
    They had been boys.
    Devin was a man.
    It intrigued me and terrified me at the same time. I wouldn’t know what to do with him. It would overwhelm me. But that didn’t stop me from craving him.
    As I studied him, my chest rose up and down faster and my lips parted without me realizing it. But he noticed. His gaze dropped down, swept over me, and my nipples hardened under his scrutiny. When he spoke, his tone was completely different. Not joking, teasing, mocking. But serious. Sincere.
    “I never wanted this house. I wanted a smaller one. More like a cottage, a cozy place to escape to. But my ex-wife wanted this one because it’s good for entertaining. What I didn’t realize was that by entertaining she meant having sex with an aging rock star while I was in New York.”
    I winced, involuntarily. “I’m sorry.”
    “You are, aren’t you?” he asked, puzzled.
    His bewilderment puzzled me in return. “Why wouldn’t I be? I’m sure it hurt you.”
    But he shook his head. “Most people take some small bit of satisfaction in knowing it happened to someone other than them. They feel smug.”
    Was that the world he lived in? I suppose it was the world I’d grown up in as well. How many foster siblings had I encountered who were grateful when I arrived and could take the heat off of them? But I still believed there were good people and I still believed in honesty and loyalty.
    “I don’t feel smug,” I said truthfully. “I feel sad that someone would take the vow of marriage and then just screw anyone who showed interest in her. If someone loved me enough to want to marry me, I would be loyal to him. Day in, day out. I would live for him.”
    Devin reached out and touched my chin, cupping it with his hand, thumb stroking over my skin. I shivered. “And he would be a very lucky man, Tiffany.”
    For an agonizing second, as his amber eyes studied me, I thought he was going to kiss me. I felt the air shift, felt his body lean towards mine, felt my breathing slow and my eyelids drift lower.
    But then he stepped back and the moment was over. “Wait here,” he said roughly. “I’ll get that shirt.”

Chapter Six
    Devin threw the stick for Amelia and we watched her bound after it. It was freezing outside, the wind sharp and biting. But it was what I was used to. “I wonder what it’s like in Florida,” I mused. “Is it like August here?”
    “You’ve never been to Florida?” He was wearing a thick navy-blue coat, a knit hat on his head. I had no experience with wealth or luxury, but it was obvious everything he owned was expensive and well made. The stitching on the cuffs of his coat was straight, the hat free of fuzz.
    I shook my head. “I’ve never been outside of Maine. Never outside of this area, actually.”
    “Really?” The thought seemed to horrify him. “No wonder you’re so… untouched.”
    “It doesn’t make me ignorant,” I said defensively, cramming my hands in the pockets of my cheap thrift shop puffer coat. “I’m educated. And I can research anything on the Internet so it’s not like I live in isolation.” Except I did. Emotional and physical isolation.
    “And do you always believe what you read on the Internet?”
    “About the same way I believe what people say- after I’ve cross referenced it.”
    He laughed. “I actually meant it as a compliment. You’re not… I don’t know. Harsh .”
    “My grandmother would tell you otherwise. She told me just about every day what a mean ass bitch I am.”
    “Well, she must have