The Devil Made Me Do It

The Devil Made Me Do It

―Happy thirtieth birthday, Melissa! Erin Clayton squealed and threw her arms around her younger sister, dragging her through the front door and making sure everyone knew the guest of honor had arrived.

―This is so great! I can‘t believe you went to all this trouble. Melissa Mackenzie and her husband, Brian, turned in circles, marveling at Erin‘s transformed home. Black and white streamers fluttered from anything vertical, multi-colored confetti littered everything horizontal (including the cocker spaniel), and a bold, bright banner screamed ?Happy Birthday‘

over the sliding glass doors leading to the deck. Shiny balloons floated over the floor, occasionally getting popped by a misplaced step and startling the living daylights out of the unsuspecting guests.

Erin meticulously arranged the overloaded buffet table. ―It‘s no trouble. You only turn thirty once, and I want to rub it in good.

―Great. Thanks, Melissa gulped, remembering what she did to Erin at her thirtieth birthday party. Three years later, people were still talking about how Melissa stripped Erin‘s bikini top off in full view of the guests and the neighbors.

―Where‘s the beef, babe? The grill is ready. John Clayton strolled in from the deck, grilling fork in one hand, a Bud Lite in the other.

―I‘ll bring it right out, Erin said, nodding in the direction of the birthday girl.

John got the hint. ―Hey! Happy birthday, Mel. He slapped her on the butt with the backside of the fork.

―Ow! Melissa rubbed her bottom and shot her brother-in-law a dirty look.



―Be gentle with her, John. Brian grinned. ―She‘s still sore from her birthday spanking.

John hooted while Melissa blushed and sputtered.

―Whoa, Mel! I didn‘t know you were that kind of girl.

Her dark eyes twinkled as an evil smile twisted her lips. ―You should. My sister and I both like it a little rough.

Brian burst out laughing, and John took a quick swig of his beer.

Unseen by the men, Erin gave her sister a sly wink as she brought the marinated steaks to her husband.

―Work your magic, grill master.

John took the heavy tray and hauled Brian out to the deck with him.

―I don‘t know who‘s more embarrassed, Brian snickered, ―you or Mel. He pulled a beer from the cooler and leaned back against the railing, nodding hello to people he knew.

John grunted and flipped open the grill.

―What‘s the matter with you? Brian popped open his Bud and took a deep drink.

Spearing a helpless steak, John flopped it over the coals then finished off his beer. ―I just wanted a little affection from Erin this morning, but she said no. She had to get ready for the party. His whiny imitation of his wife‘s excuse drew a grimace from his brother-in-law.

―Wow. When has Erin ever said no to you? Brian decided the poor guy needed another beer.

―Thanks. John opened the bottle and gulped, slapping another steak onto the grill. ―That‘s what I can‘t figure out.

―Maybe she‘s just playing hard to get.

―Ya think?

―Melissa did that to me for a while. I got a little tired of it.

―So what‘d you do? John speared another steak.

―I ripped her clothes off, literally, and gave it to her good.

―You‘re kidding. She liked that?



A self-satisfied smile flickered across Brian‘s lips.

―She resisted at first, but she loved every minute of it.

John stared into the kitchen, admiring his wife‘s firm ass as she bent over to check something in the oven. He shook his head. ―I don‘t think I could do that to Erin.

―Why not?

―What if I scare her? What if I lose control? She doesn‘t realize it makes me crazy just to be in the same room with her. He stared at Erin, his eyes following the sleek lines of her long slim body. Raw lust aroused the erection he was fighting all day. Her lush black hair fell over her shoulder and she flipped it back with a gesture that was second nature to her.

The burgundy tank dress she wore complimented her features. Dark colors favored her, creating an exotic contrast between her fair skin and dark eyes. Melissa had the same dark eyes, dark hair, and fair skin as her older sister, but the similarities stopped there.

Short and curvy, Melissa‘s energetic personality matched her figure as much as Erin‘s cool grace matched her statuesque frame.

Brian stared at his wife, having made the same comparisons and contrasts. He wondered how much the sisters thought alike. ―Melissa told me something interesting the other night.

―What‘s that? John turned to his brother-in-law and met his eyes.

―She told me that one of a woman‘s top three fantasies is to be ravished.

―Ravished? Is that anything like rape?

―No way. Ravishing is kinda like romance novel sex where the woman is pursued, captured, and swept off her feet. She might resist at first but that‘s part of the fantasy. Mel said that ravishing appeals to some women because, even though she‘s a willing partici-pant, she can't be held responsible for her actions because ?the devil made her do it‘.

John grinned. ―I can be a devil. He looked back at his wife, devilish thoughts filling his mind at the sight


of her bending over to take the potatoes out of the oven. Focusing on her hemline, he tried to mentally push her skirt just a little higher. But it didn‘t work.

The scent of burning meat snapped him back to reality. He moved the steaks away from the flames and glanced over at Brian.

―So how much do you think those two have in common?

Erin waited until the glass door slid closed, then smiled at her sister. ―Nice hint.

Melissa beamed. ―Do you think it will help?

―I hope so. Erin returned to the kitchen and Melissa followed her.

―Is your plan working?

Erin opened the oven door to check the baked potatoes then turned to her sister. Glancing out at the deck to make sure everyone was outside, she smiled and said, ―He wanted some this morning, but I decided to play hard to get. You know, drive him a little crazy.

―Good, good. How‘d he take it?

―Not well, he‘s a little cranky. He can‘t figure out why I said no.

―Turn the heat up a little, Melissa suggested.

―Make him want you, but he can‘t have you…yet.

―So, encourage him and resist him at the same time?

―Uh-huh.

―That‘s going to be tricky. Erin frowned and watched her husband turning steaks on the grill with his brother-in-law beside him, seemingly offering helpful hints. She could tell John was really listening to what Brian was saying because John‘s eyebrows were drawn together with a focused intensity she found incredibly sexy. Of course, there wasn‘t much about John that wasn‘t sexy. At six feet, he was only a few inches taller than she was, and when she wore heels she could look straight into his gorgeous brown eyes.



A flash of movement caught her attention, and she shifted her gaze to Brian, waving his beer bottle emphatically as if illustrating an important point. Erin stared hard, trying to read Brian‘s lips, but found herself distracted by the intensity in his blue eyes and the way his muscular shoulders flexed when he talked with his hands. Oh yes, she could definitely see why her sister found him attractive.

Melissa followed her gaze. ―Why don‘t you just tell him what you want?

―I probably should, but that would defeat my purpose. Half the fun is in resisting him.

―Yeah, but men don‘t always get hints. I had to beat Brian over the head with a clue-by-four before he got it.

―At least you ?got it‘, Erin sighed.

―I still don‘t know how I accomplished that. A schoolgirl giggle escaped Melissa‘s lips. ―One night he just grabbed me, threw me on the bed, and had his way with me.

―Hmm…. Maybe I‘ll just have to grab him and say

?take me, baby‘.

―That might work.

―But that‘s so unlike me. The oven timer cut into Erin‘s thoughts, and she quickly turned it off. She pulled the potatoes from the oven and arranged them on a serving tray. ―I wish he would just sweep me off my feet and ravish me, take my breath away, and leave me unable to walk.

―Keep working on him girl. You‘ll get it eventually.

―I intend to.

The steaks were grilled to perfection, the potatoes done just right, and the overflowing appetizers were almost gone when Erin and Melissa joined their guests out on the deck. Sunset over the mountains was particularly gorgeous that night, spilling golden twilight into the Clayton‘s backyard party. It wasn‘t a huge bash; just a few close friends, couples mostly, without their children.



Erin sat beside John and flashed him a beguiling smile, making him wonder just what the heck she was up to. He decided not to question her invitation and reached under the table to caress her thigh. The moment he touched her, she turned away from his grasp to talk to Jenna, Melissa‘s best friend. John brought his hand back to the table. Coincidence or rejection? Not wanting to dwell on the possibilities, John raised a questioning eyebrow at his brother-in-law, but Brian just shrugged.

Concentrating on her end of the conversation was not as easy as it appeared. Erin smiled and nodded at the appropriate times, but she was constantly aware of every move her husband made. Even though he wasn‘t touching her, she could feel him next to her, and she knew he wasn‘t happy about her apparent rejection. She had to make him understand she wasn‘t saying no; she was saying not yet. She had to tease him, tempt him, and make him lose control.

―Would you like a strawberry, sweetheart? Erin picked up a strawberry and waited for John to look at her. When she had his full attention, she bit down on the succulent fruit, licking a drop of its savory juice from her lips.

―Uh…. What was she saying? As John watched her pink tongue play across her juicy lips, all competent thought fled from his brain. Images of that tongue licking up his juices, those teeth nibbling his flesh, rendered him incapable of putting two words together.

―Okay.

She picked up a strawberry and laid it on his plate.

Not what he had in mind. John scowled as she resumed her conversation with Jenna. His erection came back with a vengeance, and he toyed with the idea of tossing his wife on the picnic table and banging her brains out. He shook his head and blinked as images of screaming guests and scattered food assaulted him. Better to save his carnal urges for when he had her alone. Then, Erin would be the only one screaming. Screaming, writhing, and clawing.



John frowned and attacked his steak, just a bit uncomfortable with the nature of his thoughts.

―Settle down, John. You‘re getting a little carried away. Erin raised an eyebrow at her husband as his elbow bounced off her ribs.

He gave her a blank stare, wondering for a moment if she knew what he was thinking. The twinkle in her eye made him wonder if she would like what he was thinking. Testing his theory, he leaned close to her, barely touching his lips to her ear. ―You‘d like that, wouldn‘t you?

Erin caught her breath. ―Oh–

―Hey Erin! Jenna‘s husband, Mike, laughed at her from across the table. ―Remember what Mel did to you at your birthday party?

She twisted in her seat and gave the man a sharp glare. ―Only too well. He seemed to shrink under her gaze. ―And thank you so much for bringing it up, she said with a gracious but chilly smile.

Nothing excited John more than watching his wife put a creep in his place. ―Well done, baby. He touched her leg, slipping his fingers under the hem of her skirt and caressing her thigh from outside to inside and back again.

Erin turned back to him, eager to resume their previous intimate conversation, but Brian already had John distracted. The calloused tips of his fingers teased her smooth thigh, drawing a moist response from between her legs. Her heartbeat was still off kilter since his whispered challenge, and she desperately hoped she was driving him as crazy as he was her.

―Who‘s ready for some cake? Brian clapped his hands and rubbed them together, grinning meaning-fully at Erin.

A chorus of agreement rose around the table. ―I take it everyone wants ice cream, too, Erin said as she stood. She ordered Melissa to stay put and walked to the kitchen alone.



John seized the opportunity. ―Let me help you with that, honey. He scrambled after her. She already had the ice cream out and was stacking plates and forks on a serving tray when he wrapped his arms around her from behind, kissing her neck, and pinning her against the counter.

―Oh Erin, he grunted, sliding his hands up her ribs to massage her breasts. ―You‘ve been driving me crazy all day.

Erin smiled. That was exactly what she wanted. But not yet. ―Help me take these plates out to the deck.

―Sure, he breathed, grinding his hardened cock against her bottom.

His hot breath on her neck sent shivers down her spine, and, for a moment, Erin was tempted to give in, especially when his tongue touched her ear. She melted into him, turning in his arms to kiss him.


Their hungry mouths met and feasted on each other.

Erin gave him just a taste of the passion simmering inside her, whetting his appetite for more.

He lifted her skirt, hardly surprised when he touched wet panties. John smiled, remembering how he used to make her come just by stroking her through her clothes. Maybe he could do that to her now. She squirmed as his longest finger slid down the center of the fabric, dragging damp silk against her *. He heard her gasp and felt her fingernails dig into his shoulders. One long leg wrapped around his waist as he caressed her, making silky circles with the fabric. Oh hell, John groaned, she‘s climbing all over me. Why make her wait?

―Cake… she panted as he pushed her panties to one side and sent his fingers gliding into her slick folds. She needed to do something with the cake, but she couldn‘t remember what.

―Just give me two minutes. He almost had his belt unbuckled.

That was a cold splash in the face. ―I‘d like more than two minutes.

―Three then. Zip.



―John. Erin fought to resist. Her hand found its way into his open jeans and stroked him. He was so hard and hot for her. She could let him take her now and….

―Yeah baby?

And it would be all over in a matter of seconds.

Besides, if he was opening her buttons instead of tearing them off, he wasn‘t quite ready for what she had in mind. ―John.

―Erin.

―The ice cream is melting.

―Let it melt. I‘ll dribble it over your nipples and lick it off.

―Ooo…. That mental image and accompanying quivers nearly changed her mind. ―No.

―Yes.

―Not now.

―Right now.

She reached between his legs and zipped him up.

―Hey! Be careful with that. You almost got me.

―It‘s time to serve the cake. With unsteady hands, she picked up the cake box and handed to him.

He wasn‘t going to let her get away that easy. ―Let me smear this cake all over your body and–

She smashed her finger against his lips. ―Go.

Outside. Now. If he kept making those delicious suggestions, she wouldn‘t be able to resist him for long.

John gaped at her as she set the ice cream carton on top of the cake box.

―Go on. I‘ll bring out the dishes.

His lip curled and his eyes raked her with such lusty promise she actually trembled. ―You‘re going to pay for this. He turned and stalked out to the deck.

―I‘m counting on it.

―…Happy birthday, dear Melissa, happy birthday to you! Melissa took a deep breath, paused, and blew out all thirty candles at once.

―You‘re getting your wish, someone shouted.



Standing behind her, Brian grinned. ―She already did.

―Oh yes. Turning, Melissa cast a naughty smile at her husband. ―Maybe now you‘ll get yours.

Laughter turned into hoots and howls as Brian wrapped his arms around the birthday girl and bent her back over the picnic table, kissing her until she was blushing and breathless. Touching the tip of his nose against hers, he smiled into her eyes. ―I have everything I‘ve ever wished for and more.

Ignoring the cheering guests, Melissa slid her arms around his neck. ―That deserves another kiss.

Brian‘s eyes lit up.

―And more when we get home.

―Mmm…have I got a package for you. Brian winked and kissed her.

―Um…excuse me, Mel, Erin elbowed her blissful sister in the ribs. ―You‘re squashing the cake.

―Oops. Melissa giggled and Brian picked her up, moved to a comfortable chair, and settled her in his lap while Erin and Jenna served cake and ice cream.

―None for me, thanks, John said as Jenna passed a plate to him. Watching Brian and Mel was enough to make him lose his appetite. Besides, he‘d rather eat cake and ice cream off Erin‘s luscious plate. He was sure he had his chance in the kitchen, but somehow she slipped away from him. If she didn‘t give it up soon, he was going to do something desperate. Having Erin flat on her back on the picnic table was looking better and better all the time. He closed his eyes and saw her skirt hiked up to her waist, her ankles around his neck, his rock hard cock pounding between her thighs, birthday cake spread across her breasts….

―Do you want to eat my frosting?

―Huh? John‘s beer almost flew out of his hand at the sound of Erin‘s voice. She was standing in front of him, holding out a plateful of frosting.

―It‘s too sweet for me. I thought you might like it.

She scooped some of it onto her fork and offered it to him.



Setting down his Bud, he crooked his finger at her.

Leaning forward, she let him whisper in her ear. ―Only if I can eat it off your nipples.

Erin‘s eyes grew wide and even darker than usual.

―I don‘t want any frosting. John grabbed her arms and pulled her against his body. ―But I will have you for dessert tonight.

She caught her breath in a rush and stepped back.

―You‘re a devil, she whispered at him.

―Damn right.

Was that a challenge in his tone? ―I like that, she purred, making sure he knew she didn‘t disapprove.

He slid next to her, slipping his arms around her waist while he blocked their guests‘ view with his body. ―What d‘ya say we blow off this party and go find someplace where I can, um…. His heart was pounding so hard he could barely think. ―Yank that dress off and f*ck you for an hour or two. Crude but to the point.

Oh my god, he was getting the idea. Could she push him just a little bit more? Erin stepped out of his embrace. ―But we‘re the hosts, she reminded him, feigning an indifference she did not feel.

―Oh yeah. His patience was running out. Lust ruled him, making it impossible to think of anything but sating his desires. He didn‘t care how or where—it just had to be soon.

Erin got the distinct impression she was going to get laid right then and there if she didn‘t disappear in a hurry. She had no desire to make a spectacle of herself again, so she used her hostess duties as an excuse and hurried to the kitchen.

―What‘s the matter with her? Brian met John at the beer cooler, watching Erin nearly run into the house.

John smiled. ―I think I just called her bluff.

―Great party, Erin, Mike said as he and Jenna stood by the front door. ―But Melissa throws a better one. We didn‘t get to see your–



All Erin had to do was throw the man a nasty look and he shut up quick.

Jenna said goodbye to Melissa and hurried Mike to their car.

John enlisted Brian to help him usher out the remaining guests.

―You called her bluff? Brian didn‘t get it. He pulled John away from the crowd at the door.

John smiled, watching Erin play the perfect hostess. ―She‘s been playing with me all day, stringing me along by the balls until I finally caught on to her game.

―What game?

―Erin and Melissa do think alike.

A light went on in Brian‘s eyes and an evil grin twisted his lips. ―Go get her.

―I intend to. John‘s hormones were simmering under Erin‘s supervision all day and they were ready to boil over. ―As soon as you get Melissa out of here.

―Done.

Melissa waved goodbye to her friends and closed the door. ―Do you want me to help you clean up?

―No. John spoke up before Erin could open her mouth. ―It‘s your birthday. Go home and enjoy it.

―I was going to ask them to stay for drinks, Erin frowned at him. She wanted to make him wait just a bit longer.

―Thanks, but no, Brian smiled and pulled Melissa toward the door. ―We have our own plans.

―We do? Melissa didn‘t remember any.

―We do now. Knowing what his brother-in-law had in mind suddenly inspired Brian.

―Ooo…. Melissa giggled and waved goodbye as Brian dragged her out the door.


John closed the door and locked it behind them.

Smiling like the devil, he turned to his wife and found her walking out to the deck to clean up. ―Erin?

She was standing at the picnic table, pretending to clear the dishes while she waited to see what he would do. ―I‘ve got to put this cake away. The simple

statement came out in a breathless rush of anticipation.

―Later. No more waiting. He wanted her now, and by god, he was going to take her now.

John grabbed Erin‘s arm and spun her around.

Their eyes locked and they both held their breath.

Ever so slowly, he reached out and threaded his fingers through her thick black hair, pulling her head back to expose her throat. She never felt so vulnera-ble. He never felt so powerful.

His barely restrained control snapped, and his mouth came down on hers with a violent passion neither of them expected. The unleashed strength in his embrace nearly crushed Erin, and she instinctively raised her hands to push against his chest. She turned her head away, fearing she pushed him too far.

He devoured her throat, biting a path from her chin to her shoulder, then lingering there. His fingers found the buttons on her back, but he fumbled with them.

Frustrated, he grabbed her collar and tore her dress apart, scattering buttons over the wood deck. The light cotton garment ripped easily and in a matter of seconds, she standing breathless in her bra and panties.

Heart pounding, unable to move, Erin gasped at the wild lust in her husband‘s eyes. He was going to take her—ravish her—there was no doubt about that. Was this what she wanted? John grabbed her by the waist and pulled her into him, jamming his knee between her thighs, grinding his leg against her mound. Her senses ignited.

Oh my god yes. This was exactly what she wanted.

Erin was so thrilled by his fierce reaction she almost forgot to resist. ―I have to do the dishes.

His arm swept across the table, leaving only the cake and a few stray beer bottles still standing.

―Dishes are done.

―Ohhhh….

He fell on top of her, pushing her down on the picnic table the way he imagined doing it all day. Her

feet came up on the bench, and he pushed her knees apart. Standing between her splayed thighs, he scowled at the scrap of silk covering her, separating them. It had to be removed. Elastic snapped as he ripped the cloth away, leaving her p-ssy naked and exposed.

And hungry. Erin‘s body reacted on its own, drawing John‘s hand to her like a magnet. Two fingers stroked hard and fast inside her, while his thumb rubbed furiously over her *. Flames raced along her limbs, licking and tormenting her flesh. Erin moaned and stretched, lifting her hips off the table to beg for more.

He couldn‘t believe how wet she was. Had torturing him all day turned her on, too? Her musky scent whet his appetite. John sat down on the bench and devoured her, nibbling here, biting there. His tongue flickered over her swollen *, circling and suckling.

Erin gasped. John growled. He picked up an empty beer bottle and pressed its cool opening into her hot opening, sliding the long hard neck deep into her soft wet channel. Pulled it out, licked it, and slid it back in again.

Erin grabbed a fistful of his hair and shoved his mouth over her * while he bottle-f*cked her. She unhooked her bra and flung it into the backyard, seizing both breasts in her hands, pinching her nipples hard. The bottle, his tongue, and her hands assaulted her, and she enjoyed every minute of it.

Every lick, every twist, every thrust sent her reeling into mindless sensation. She could think of nothing and feel everything.

She felt the wood table, hard under her body, supporting her world. She felt the damp night wind scream over her skin, rattling her senses. She felt her own fingers tighten like a vice on her nipples, stoking the heat raging between her legs. She felt one of John‘s hands gripping her thigh while the other gripped the beer bottle, thrusting its erotic shape in and out, in and out, in and out. She felt his tongue,

his lips, and his teeth eating her, his hunger growing greater with every taste. She felt oblivion approaching, rushing toward her. Faster, closer, faster!

Oh! No! Please! Madness seized her, spun her, obliterating everything she knew until she knew only violent satisfaction.

John pulled the bottle out and tossed it aside, hearing glass break but not caring at all. He stood and thrust into Erin, only then realizing he was still fully dressed. She sat up and tore at his clothes, ripping his shirt as they pulled it off. They struggled with his belt and tugged at his zipper. His pants hit the deck hard, but not nearly as hard as the mutual thrust that joined them.

Erin‘s startled gasp should have registered alarm in John‘s brain, but the meeting of their flesh robbed him of reason. He crawled on top of her, pressing her flat on the table and moving with her. Pumping, pounding, pumping, panting…screaming, writhing, and clawing, just like he imagined it. No—better than he imagined.

He wanted her the moment he woke up, but she denied him. He wanted her in the kitchen, but she denied him there, too. He promised to make her pay—

and she did. When she cried out for him to move slowly, he denied her. When she begged for him to thrust softly, he denied her. When she screamed ?don‘t stop‘, he couldn‘t deny her. And when she pleaded for him to make her come, he indulged her, over and over and over again.

Then he could no longer deny himself. Shudders wracked his body, ripping through him with the trembling force of desire restrained too long. All his pent up passion poured into his wife. She felt him lose control, feared it for only a moment, then surrendered and let it carry her away with him.

John collapsed on top of his wife, his arms flung out to the sides, crushing her with his weight.

―John, Erin gasped. ―Please, it‘s hard to breathe.