Trevor Reese: His Protective Love

by Mallory Monroe

  Trevor was enjoying her as he fucked her. He had his hand resting on her hips as he pushed deeper and deeper into her. And the more resistance he met from her tight passageway, the more aroused he became. Until he was so big that he had to force his way on through. Which meant they both felt every ounce of his fullness. And they both moaned and groaned as the feelings intensified.

  Trevor moved his hands to her bare breasts, and squeezed them hard, as he fucked her. He kissed her on her neck, and her bare back, and the side of her face as he fucked her. He was feeling her to the roots of his hair. He’d never loved like this before. He’d never felt so sensual with a woman as he felt with Carly. It was usually him who gave more pleasure than he got.

  But not with Carly.

  She gave to him more than he could have ever given to her.

  At least that was what he thought. Carly had a different view. Because she was in that heightened sensuality too, where his beautiful dick had her vagina pulsating with so many sensations that she felt as if she was riding a tide.

  Trevor felt it too. So much so that he did the unthinkable. He broke before she did, and poured into her. He came. But he couldn’t help it. She was fucking him too good.

  And it wasn’t soon after his cum, did Carly cum too. And her orgasm was as seismic as his had been. The earth hadn’t opened up, but their bodies had, and they kept fucking even through the shift. They couldn’t seem to stop.

  But physical and emotional exhaustion caught up with them. And stopped them before they could even attempt to cum again.

  When Trevor finally slowed and then stopped and then slowly pulled out of her, he fell onto his back. And she fell onto hers. Both of them were breathing as if they were hyperventilating. Especially Trevor, who was panting.

  Carly looked at him. They both smiled. “I sure wish you didn’t have to go to New York,” she said.

  He was completely empty and drained, but he managed to rub the side of her beautiful face. “I know, sweetness,” he said. “But at least it’s close by. I’ll be back tonight.”

  “Just in time for the dinner party?” Carly asked.

  Tonight they were attending a dinner party, in their honor, hosted by Drena Dixon, the former wife of the mayor of Boston, a renowned socialite in her own right, and a good friend of Trevor’s. It was going to be Carly’s first official introduction into that group of Trevor’s inner circle, a circle he had purposely protected her from. Those particular friends, he felt, could be vicious to a newbie.

  But she was his wife now. He was holding nothing back from her now.

  “I’ll be there if I have to cut that press conference short myself and get there,” he said.

  Carly smiled. “Sounds great,” she said.

  Actually, it sounded terrifying to Trevor. His sweet wife in a room with all of those vultures he called his friends wasn’t appealing to him at all. He could handle them. Could Carly?

  But the dinner was in their honor. One of them had to at least be on time. “What I want you to do, however,” he said to her, still staring at her, still rubbing the side of her face, “is to take Amari with you.” At least his son would help keep the vultures away until he got there. And would otherwise be her protection. “He knows that crowd and could introduce you for me.”

  His comment surprised Carly. “He knows them?” she asked, and Trevor knew why she asked it. She probably found it extremely odd that his son, who wasn’t that much younger than she was, who had just arrived in the States a few months ago after Trevor had to rescue him from his native home in Africa, a son he had never met before that rescue, would have already been introduced into Trevor’s inner circle when she had not?

  But Trevor knew why. Amari could handle vultures almost as well as Trevor could. They were very much alike. And like Trevor, Amari would chew them up and spit them out before they could open their mouths to even attempt to eat him. But unlike Trevor, Amari would do so with the most charming of smiles. But that was the world of Trevor and his son. Carly didn’t have a cunning bone in her body.

  “He and I had lunch with Drena and a few others some time ago,” Trevor explained. “I was showing him around at the time. But since he has plans of showing up tonight, anyway, I want him to ride with you.”

  “He probably wants to do his own thing, Trev,” Carly said.

  “I don’t give a fuck what he wants to do. You tell him I said he’s riding with you. I don’t want you going into that lion’s den alone.”

  “A lion’s den?” Carly smiled. “I’m sure they aren’t that bad,” she said.

  “That’s what you think,” Trevor said. “Take Amari with you.”

  Carly exhaled again. She didn’t agree with it, but she knew Trevor’s word was final in matters that fundamental. Amari was his son. He had the final say over what he did or didn’t do. “I’ll tell him,” she said.

  “Good. Now,” he said, grinning and pulling her toward him, “how about another round?”

  Carly looked at him with joking horror, jumped out of bed, and ran to the bathroom, slamming the door behind her.

  Trevor laughed and laughed.

  But as his dick thought about Carly, and how enticing she looked running from him, he got out of bed, too, and made his way into that bathroom. When he opened the door and saw her getting into the shower stall, he got in behind her and took her by the hips.

  She leaned her head back against his chest as the water poured over them, and despite his energy drain, he did her again anyway.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  “This is exciting.”

  Exciting?” Carly looked at Amari. She was driving her Jaguar convertible, and Amari was on the passenger seat. The top was down and his curly hair was blowing in the wind, making him look like a younger, hipper, black version of Trevor. “It feels like torture to me,” she said. “What’s exciting about it?”

  “Oh, it will be torturous, do not get me wrong. But torture with a bit of fun.” He smiled. “These friends of Father’s think they are so brilliant and so perfect when they are quite petty and ridiculous. I enjoy playing around with them. They think I am quite serious in my play, when I am no such thing. I just play.”

  Carly smiled. Everybody loved Amari, including her, because he was a warm, easygoing people-person. Trevor believed his son was so much like him, but Carly didn’t see what Trevor saw. Although, she also knew, the reason Trevor had to rescue him from Africa in the first place was because of Amari’s covert activities on behalf of the Agency. And as a former CIA operative, Amari was much more than meets the eye. She knew that too. But she liked what she saw in him.

  “Trevor said you met Drena Dixon before,” she said as she turned a corner. It was a black tie affair and Amari took it literally: he wore a black tuxedo with a black tie. He looked, in three words, Carly thought, drop-dead gorgeous. For her part, Carly wore a bright-blue, form-fitting cocktail dress that Trevor always loved seeing her wear, a dress he said highlighted her smooth, brown skin. “What’s she like?”

  What Amari most enjoyed about his father’s young wife was that he could talk to her as if he was talking with a friend. When he was around his father, it was decidedly less relaxed. His father, for some reason, still intimidated him. But Carly, with her beauty and kindness, and the fact that she was the only black face in his father’s very white world, appealed to him immediately when he met her. They hit it off just that quickly.

  “She’s a bitch,” he said, answering Carly’s question about Drena Dixon, “but a lovable bitch. She’s harmless.”

  “Harmless, hun? What were her impressions of you?”

  “Apparently it was a nice impression because she invited me to her bed the same day I met her.”

  Carly, stopped at a red light, looked at him with surprise in her eyes. “Are you serious?”

  “Quite serious.”

  “What did Trevor say?”

  Amari smiled. Carly acted as if Trevor was as much the center of his universe as he was of he
rs. He was Amari’s center, too, and his hero for rescuing him out of Africa, but Amari would never show it the way Carly did. “He said nothing because I told him nothing about it.”

  “Ah, okay. But what did you do about that invitation?”

  Amari smiled. “A gentleman never tells,” he said, and they both laughed.

  But when they arrived at the Dixon mansion near Chestnut Hill, Carly became much more serious. Although Amari got out of the car buttoning his tuxedo and longing for that excitement he was hoping for, Carly got out, relinquishing the car to the Valet, with the look of a woman getting ready to perform a duty. It was her duty, not her honor, to be there, and she was going to do the very best she could. All her life, after surviving her tragic childhood, she required that of herself.

  But Trevor was right. Amari and his self-assuredness was a great comfort to her in that moment. He even held out his arm for her. “Take my arm, my dear,” he said to her with that wonderful smile, “and we shall ride this tide together!”

  Carly laughed. Amari was such a card! And they walked into the massive Victorian home as if they were a couple. And they were: a couple of very fortunate people, as they saw it, who both belonged to Trevor.

  And as soon as they walked in, their names were announced by the doorman on duty: Mrs. Trevor Reese, and Mr. Amari Reese!” he blared.

  It still felt strange to Amari, being called Reese, but as soon as he made it to the States his father asked and he agreed to have his name changed. His mother, who was already an American citizen and had relocated from Botswana as well, and now lived in Connecticut, agreed that it was the right thing to do. She left America while she was pregnant with Amari, when she and Trevor were college kids. She wanted Trevor to have nothing to do with her child, or even to ever know his whereabouts. She didn’t want Trevor’s dangerous life to become her son’s life. And she succeeded for nearly all of Amari’s days on earth.

  Until they both needed Trevor.

  He came through for them in spectacular fashion by saving both of their lives. The least they could do in return was to let his son carry his name.

  But as soon as the name Reese was proclaimed by the doorman, Drena Dixon, the host, hurried to greet them. “There they are!” she said happily as she and Amari kissed cheek to cheek. Carly smiled. It was as if Drena’s earlier proposition and Amari’s acceptance (or rejection) had never been a thing between them. They kissed like old pals. But Carly knew, ever since she started working at TRM, that the upper-crust in Boston always handled their messy affairs that way: as if they never even happened.

  “And here’s the beautiful bride,” Drena said as she clasped both of Carly’s hands. “You looked radiant on your wedding day, and still do. How you keep your skin that smooth I’ll never know. I didn’t get a chance to say hello on your big day, Trevor wouldn’t bring you anywhere near me. He thought I’d eat you alive or something utterly ridiculous. But that’s Trevor. We’ve been friends for years and years. I’m used to his antics. But that’s why I wanted to have this dinner in your honor, so that we can get to know you too. How are you, dear?”

  She went around the world to get around the corner with that introduction, but Carly maintained her smile. “I’m very well, thank you,” she said as Drena continued to clasp her hands.

  “That’s nice,” she said, but Carly could tell she was assessing her. Was she pretty enough for Trevor? Smart enough? Old enough? Then she glanced at Amari, as if he was really the one whose hands she wanted to clasp. “Where’s Trevor?” she asked them.

  “He’s running a little late,” Carly said, “but he’ll be here.”

  “Good. But what event has Trevor ever been on time to anyway?” she added with a laugh.

  Amari laughed with her. Carly could only muster a smile. If she had the kind of workload Trevor had, and his responsibilities, she’d have issues with time too. But that wasn’t the time nor place to discuss it.

  “Come,” Drena said as she pulled Carly along. “The gang’s all here,” she said. “Let me introduce you! And Amari,” she added, looking back, “stay out of trouble!”

  Carly could only imagine what the older white woman meant. She was warning Amari to stay out of everybody else’s bed, except hers? But Carly knew Amari. If that woman thought a gorgeous kid like him could be tamed that easily, she had another thought coming.

  Even Amari thought so too. He smiled. He was good at putting on the face, but he slid away from her like a kid getting away from his parents. He was going to have fun in whatever form it came. And with whichever woman.

  But Drena was stuck with Carly. It was her duty, as host, to make the introductions. And she did her duty well. She took Carly from couple to couple and from heavy-hitter to heavy-hitter. These were Trevor’s crowd. Until Drena heard a particular name being announced at her front door.

  “Mrs. Margo Robinet!” the doorman announced, and Drena, and everybody in the room, looked toward the entrance. Not because they were nosy. But because of the name.

  Carly looked too. Because Margo Robinet was one of her favorite actresses, an A-list Academy Award winner. And she was at this party in honor of her and Trevor?

  Carly could hardly believe it as the woman far more beautiful than anybody in the house walked in. She jerked her blonde hair back, removed her shades, and surveyed the room. And all the eyes of all of those rich and well-connected people shifted to her. She had that kind of presence.

  She had a different kind of presence to Drena. “I’ll be right back,” she said to Carly in a voice so low that Carly barely heard it.

  Carly assumed she was going to meet and greet the celebrity arrival. But instead of going to meet the new arrival, Drena headed for her first-floor library.

  Was the beautiful woman a rival of hers, Carly wondered? It wouldn’t be that surprising given Margo’s reputation.

  But she didn’t wonder long. Nor was Carly one to gawk and make even a celebrity of Margo’s caliber uncomfortable. The man she had just been introduced to was too busy talking about this great catch he claimed to have caught on a Mediterranean fishing trip, and was totally ignoring who had just walked through that door. He had continued to talk. His enthusiasm was contagious and his story was so incredible that Carly actually was fascinated. And listened. And forgot all about the new arrival too.

  But Drena hadn’t.

  She closed her library door behind her and immediately pulled out her cell phone.

  Trouble had just arrived.

  She had to warn Trevor.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  The plane landed at the dark airfield and Trevor ran down the steps quickly, walked across the tarmac where his chauffeur held open the backdoor of the limousine. He plopped down and exhaled. He was pleased to be back on Boston soil.

  “Where to, sir?” the chauffeur asked after getting behind the wheel.

  “Drena Dixon’s,” Trevor said and the driver took off. He had showered and changed on his plane, into a blue tuxedo, and was anxious to see his wife again and to rescue her from what he knew was Drena’s den of wolves.

  But his cell phone began ringing as soon as the limo began driving away. When he pulled it out, and saw that it was Drena calling, he answered expectantly. “I’m on my way, Dree,” he said.

  “We’ve got a slight problem, Trevor,” his long-time friend said.

  “What is it?” Trevor asked, and his mind, as usual, went straight to Carly. “My wife there yet?”

  “She’s here, yes.”

  “She’s alright?”

  “She’s fine.”

  “Nobody’s disrespecting her or pulling any stupid shit?”

  “No, Trevor, she’s fine. Everybody in the circle knows how protective you are of that girl. They’ve all been on their best behavior.”

  But Trevor had an additional responsibility now. “My son alright?” he asked.

  “Yes! Good Lord. He’s fine, too, Trev. Your family’s fine. They’re both here and they’re both fine.” Then sh
e let out an exhale. “But somebody else is here too.”

  “Somebody else? Who?”

  There was a pause. “Margo,” Drena said.

  Trevor could hardly believe it. “Don’t fuck with me, Drena.”

  “I wish I was fucking with you. And don’t tear my head off. I’m just kidding. It’s a joke.”

  But Trevor hadn’t even registered Drena’s little comment. He was still focused on who she said was at that party. “Why would you invite her to a party in my wife’s honor, Dree?”

  “I didn’t invite her! I would never do that to you.”

  “Then why would she be there?”

  “She’s apparently somebody’s plus-one. I allowed them to bring their mate with them. She’s apparently, as usual, fucking somebody else in our circle.”

  Trevor closed his eyes and leaned his head back. It was all he needed. “Keep her away from Carly,” he said. “I’m on my way.” And he ended the call. No sense in taking out his anger on Drena. But he wanted to.

  He wanted to during the entire ride from the airfield to her house. He wanted to as he got out of that limo, buttoned his tux, and hurried up the steps that led into the home. He wanted to when the doorman was about to announce his name, but he told him he’d better not. The doorman, accustomed to Trevor Reese, promptly closed his mouth.

  Trevor wanted to take his anger out on Drena for having that plus-one policy to begin with. He wanted to lash out. Until he saw Carly.

  She was standing in a small group of women. They were talking and she was listening. They laughed, she smiled. She was always in control.

  She wore a beautiful blue cocktail dress that made her look so elegant to Trevor, and she had her long hair in an updo that highlighted her gorgeous dark skin and her gorgeous face. His face relaxed, too, when he saw her.

  And he saw no one else.

  He made a beeline for Carly.

  But Amari slid in front of him the way he was prone to do, grinning from ear to ear like the charming rogue everybody took him for, and got in his way. “Hello, Father,” he said.