Night Moves : Dream Man/After the Night Read online

  Faith stared at them, her eyes burning. She wasn’t jealous. Gray was so far above her, and she was so young, that she had never thought of him in a romantic, possessive sense. Gray was the shining center of her universe, to be worshiped from afar, and she was giddily happy with the occasional glimpse of him. Today, when he had actually spoken to her, and touched her shirt, had been paradise. She couldn’t imagine herself in Lindsey’s place, lying naked in his arms, or even imagine what it felt like.

  Gray’s movements were getting faster, and the girl was crying out again as she strained up to him, her teeth clenched as if she were in pain, but instinctively Faith knew that she wasn’t. Gray was hammering at her now, his own head thrown back, long black hair damp at the temples and the ends sticking to his sweaty shoulders. He tensed and shuddered, and a raw, deep sound burst from his throat.

  Faith’s heart was hammering, and her greenish cat eyes were huge as she ducked away from the window, slipping through the screen door and off the porch as silently as she had arrived. So that was what it was like. She had actually seen Gray doing it. Without his clothes, he was even more beautiful than she had imagined. He hadn’t made disgusting snorting pig noises the way Pa did, whenever he was sober enough to talk Renee into the bedroom, which wasn’t very often for the past couple of years.

  If Gray’s father, Guy, was as beautiful doing it as Gray was, Faith thought fiercely, she didn’t blame Renee for choosing him over Pa.

  She gained the safety of the woods and slipped silently through the trees. It was late, and she’d likely get a belting from Pa when she got home, for not being there to start his supper and look after Scottie, the way she was supposed to do, but it would be worth it. She had seen Gray.

  • • •

  Exhausted, elated, shaking and breathing hard in the aftermath of orgasm, Gray lifted his head from the curve of Lindsey’s neck and shoulder. She was still gasping herself, her eyes closed. He had spent the better part of the afternoon seducing her, but it had been worth the effort. That long, slow buildup had made the sex even better than he’d expected.

  A flash of color, a tiny movement in his peripheral vision, caught his attention and he turned his head toward the open window and the woods beyond the porch. He caught only a glimpse of a small, frail figure topped by dark red hair, but that was enough for him to identify the youngest Devlin girl.

  What was the kid doing wandering around the woods this far from their shack? Gray didn’t say anything to Lindsey, because she would panic if she thought someone might have seen her sneaking into the summerhouse with him, even if that someone was just one of the trashy Devlins. She was engaged to Dewayne Mouton, and she wouldn’t take kindly to anything screwing that up, even her own screwing. The Moutons weren’t as rich as the Rouillards—no one in this part of Louisiana was—but Lindsey knew she could handle Dewayne in a way she could never hope to do with Gray. Gray was the bigger catch, but he wouldn’t be a very comfortable husband, and Lindsey was shrewd enough to know she didn’t have a chance with him anyway.

  “What is it?” she murmured now, stroking his shoulder.

  “Nothing.” He turned his head and kissed her, hard, then disengaged their bodies and sat up on the edge of the bed. “I just noticed how late it is.”

  Lindsey took a look out the window at the lengthening shadows, and sat up with a squeal. “My God, I’m supposed to have dinner with the Moutons tonight! I’ll never be able to get ready on time!” She scrambled from the bed and began grabbing up her scattered articles of clothing.

  Gray dressed in a more leisurely fashion, but his mind was still on the Devlin kid. Had she seen them, and if she had, would she say anything? She was a strange little kid, shyer than her older sister, who was already showing signs of being as big a slut as their mother. But the younger one had wise old eyes in that thin kid’s face, eyes that reminded him of a cat’s eyes, hazel green with flecks of gold in them so that sometimes they were green and sometimes looked yellowish. He got the feeling that she didn’t miss much. She would know that her mother was his father’s piece on the side, that the Devlins lived rent-free in that shack so Renee would be handy whenever Guy Rouillard wanted her. The kid wouldn’t risk getting on the bad side of any Rouillard.

  Poor little skinny kid, with the fey eyes. She’d been born into trash and wouldn’t have the chance to ever get out of it, assuming she even wanted to. Amos Devlin was a mean drunk, and the two older boys, Russ and Nicky, were lazy, thieving bullies, as mean as their father and showing signs of turning into drunks as well. Her mother, Renee, liked the booze too, but she hadn’t let it get the upper hand on her the way it had on Amos. She was lush and beautiful, despite having borne five children, with the dark red hair that only her youngest daughter had inherited, as well as the green eyes and creamy, delicate skin. Renee wasn’t mean, like Amos, but she wasn’t much of a mother to those kids, either. All Renee cared about was getting screwed. The joke in the parish was that her heels were so round, she had been used as the pattern for Weebles. Unlike Weebles, however, Renee would stay down, as long as there was a man ready to crawl on top of her. She exuded sex, raunchy sex, drawing men to her like dogs to a bitch in heat.

  Jodie, the oldest girl, was pure jailbait, already on the lookout for any hard cock she could get. She had Renee’s single-mindedness when it came to sex, and he very much doubted that she was still a virgin, though she was only in junior high. She kept offering it to him, but Gray wasn’t the least bit tempted. He’d rather screw a snake than Jodie Devlin.

  The youngest Devlin boy was retarded. Gray had only seen him once or twice, and each time he had been clinging to the youngest girl’s legs—what was her name, damn it? Something he’d thought a minute ago had reminded him of it. Fay? Fay with the fey eyes? No, it was something else, but like that—Faith. That was it. Funny name for a Devlin, since neither Amos nor Renee was the least bit religious.

  With a family like that, the kid was doomed. In another couple of years, she’d be following in her mother’s and sister’s footsteps, because she wouldn’t know any better. And even if she did know better, all the boys would come sniffing around her anyway, just because her name was Devlin, and she wouldn’t hold out for long.

  The whole parish knew that his father was screwing Renee, had been for years. As much as Gray loved his mother, he figured he couldn’t blame Guy for going elsewhere; God knows, his mother didn’t. Noelle was the least physical person Gray had ever seen. At thirty-nine, she was still as cool and lovely as a Madonna, unfailingly composed and remote. She didn’t like to be touched, even by her children. The wonder was that she’d even had children. Of course Guy wasn’t faithful, had never been, much to Noelle’s relief. Guy Rouillard was hot-blooded and lusty, and he’d found his way into a lot of beds before settling, more or less, on Renee Devlin. But Guy was always gently courteous and protective with Noelle, and Gray knew he would never leave her, especially not for a cheap slut like Renee.

  The only person upset by the arrangement, apparently, was his sister, Monica. Starved by Noelle’s emotional distance, Monica doted on her father, and was fiercely jealous of Renee, both on behalf of her mother and because Guy spent so much time with Renee. It was a lot calmer around the house now that Monica had gone away to school and become involved with her friends there.

  “Gray, hurry,” Lindsey begged frantically.

  He shoved his arms into his shirtsleeves, but disdained to button the garment, leaving it hanging open. “I’m ready.” He kissed her, and patted her butt. “Don’t get your feathers ruffled, chérie. All you have to do is change clothes. The rest of you looks beautiful just as you are.”

  She smiled, pleased by the compliment, and calmed down. “When can we do this again?” she asked as they left the summerhouse.

  Gray laughed aloud. It had taken him most of the summer to get into her pants, but now she didn’t want to waste any more time. Perversely, now that he’d had her, much of his ruthless determination had faded. “I