by A. M. Brooks
I park and Sam follows suit. Everyone has matching looks of amazement over their faces, taking in the impressive three-story home.
“Woah,” Ayda says, a huge smile lighting up her face, “I sort of feel like you’re a long-lost princess or something and this is your castle.”
I laugh and motion for them to join me inside. “So the second floor is where all the bedrooms and bathrooms are. Most rooms connect to a private en suite. The third floor is where you’ll find the workout room, sauna, and an old pool table. On this floor is the kitchen, theater room, and lounge area. Out back, there is a pool, and if you go down the path, we have a private beach. There’s also a cabana down there.”
I make sure to keep my eyes steady on everyone, until my gaze collides with Trent’s. I can already see the hunger in his eyes and I feel like time is limited before he pounces on me again. The sex has been mind-blowing between us, which of course, both intrigued me and scared me at the same time. His declaration that he wasn’t letting me go, rattled my insides. I almost broke down crying.
The quick trip home to see my father did nothing to ease my conscience. He had no answers for my vague questions. He was only interested in one thing: when would I have results? I tiptoed around his line, claiming it was difficult when so many others were around, that Trent was tightly guarded and seemed to fly by the seat of his pants. I played it off that he never knew where he was going. The only nugget of information I gave him, so he’d be appeased for a while, was about Trent’s money pot from the San Diego win. Even sharing that made me feel disgusting, vile, and manipulative. I did as much digging while I was in Tijuana as I could before my father caught on. I jumped back on the first flight to Denver that night.
Everyone splits and goes their separate ways to find rooms, except for Trent. He stalks up to me, and my head tilts back once he’s in front of me. I stand on my toes, when he bends, our lips meeting and fusing together. His muscled arm bands around my waist, pulling my body into his.
“Where’s your room?” he asks, biting my bottom lip. I inhale sharply and my core floods with heat. I want him again already.
“Farthest door on the right,” I tell him. “I have to get the groceries ordered first.”
“I’ll bring your stuff up too,” he assures me, kissing me again before heading up the stairs.
The minute he’s gone, I take a deep breath, my hand sliding over my heart, trying to calm the wildness in it. “I take it things are better?” Evita asks, slipping her arm in mine. I let her lead me to the kitchen where it’s more private.
Keeping my voice lowered, I turn to her. “I didn’t get anything at home. My father is clammed up. It still doesn’t feel right.”
“What are you going to do then?” Evita whispers, and her arm wraps around my shoulders.
“I don’t know.” I shake my head, because I’m just as lost today as I was a week ago after hearing Trent’s recount of things. “Until I can do some more digging on my own, I need to keep giving him information. Little pieces, so he stays off my back and doesn’t question me.”
Evita’s thumb slips to her lips and she bites the edge of her nail, thinking. “What about his cell phone?”
I let out a breath. “I already sent it on our way to the airport. Trent hasn’t even noticed it’s gone yet, so it’s probably not likely he keeps important information in it.” I scrub a hand down my face, while the guilt eats at my insides.
“Don’t be too hard on yourself,” Evita rubs a hand across my back, “If you don’t give your father something, you’re right, he’ll suspect something. There’s a good chance he could insert himself if he thought you weren’t delivering. Until you find out everything, you need to also keep yourself safe. Your dad would not hesitate to go after you.”
I nod my head, feeling the throbbing in my temple. He wouldn’t hesitate to go after me and he sure as shit wouldn’t think twice about putting a bullet in my head if he thought I might double-cross him. I am playing a dangerous game.
“Well,” Evita steps out and takes the grocery list from me, “How about I go see Rosa about this and you go find lover boy?”
My brow rises. “You sure?” She nods her head smiling before skipping out the back patio doors. I don’t hesitate, running through the house to the stairs, pumping my legs until I reach the floor. It’s quiet, so I tiptoe my way down to my room and push the door open. The first thing I notice is the ocean smell in the air and the billowing, pastel blue curtains swinging in the breeze. Smiling, I step out onto the deck and slide up behind Trent, my hands lacing around his front. I hear him grunt, then his hands are covering mine. He turns in my arms until we’re chest to chest. The bright sun brings out specks of gold in his hair, and his skin already looks a shade tanner. His blue orbs land on mine and I’m hypnotized by their color. Exactly that of the ocean behind him. I smile and he smiles too.
“What do you think?” I ask, looking around us before gazing back at him.
“I think you’re beautiful,” he answers, leaning down and touching his lips to mine. My arms instantly wind themselves around his neck, and I’m lifted up to the very tips of my toes. The sundress I’m wearing rides up my legs between us, and I gasp into his mouth, when I feel his fingers graze the edge of my underwear.
“Inside,” I manage to get out before I’m completely lifted off the ground and carried into my room. It briefly crosses my mind that I hope everyone makes themselves at home, before all my senses and thoughts become focused on Trent and the magical way he plays my body.
Thankfully, no one comments about Trent and I being locked in my room all day; they act like it never happened. Evita mostly kept everyone entertained and showed them the beach. Once Rosa knew we were there, she had snacks made and kept drinks in a cooler for them.
Everyone decides they want to eat dinner out, so I bring them to a hidden gem in the city area. Not only do they have the best authentic Mexican dishes, but they also play live music. Ayda was excited when I told her this. The girl likes to dance and launched into stories of her and a few friends sneaking into clubs around Florida. Sam did not look happy with that news, and I almost wanted to laugh at the shocked expression on Ayda’s face. I wonder for the hundredth time if no one else sees it either.
We get there early enough to snag the best table and order a heaping amount of food. The guys dig in like it’s the last meal. Rounds of margaritas make their appearance for us ladies, thanks to Evita, and soon, my blood is pumping in rhythm to the music. I sway in my chair until Evita is done. We pull Ayda with us to the dance floor, right as it starts to become crowded. Song after song, I sway my hips, feeling the beat and twisting around. Sweat trickles its way down my back, but I don’t feel it. The white sundress I threw on twirls around my legs, bunching at my hips when I want it too. The band plays “Biddi Biddi Bom Bom” by Selena, and everyone cheers.
I feel my own heart skip a beat when a pair of strong hands land on my waist, and I’m turned so we’re face to face. Trent’s button-up shirt is untucked, and the sleeves are rolled up, showing off the flex of his arms when he pulls me closer. “Dance with me,” he whispers against my ear and shivers run over my skin. I nod my head yes, and he takes my hand while the other grips my hip, low enough that my skin burns under his touch.
My eyes widen in surprise at Trent’s moves. His hips move sinfully, while he pushes and pulls me around the dance floor. I’m impressed and easily lose myself while dancing with him. He spins me around before pulling my body into his, my knee rising up against his hip before he dips me back, my hair almost grazing the floor. Trent pulls me up slowly, agonizingly so, as his tongue licks a path up my neck, right under my ear. My nerve endings fire, and desire floods my core. I feel my pussy get wet, and I want nothing more than to wrap my legs around him, climb him and make him take me home. Trent Nichols does not play fair. At least the dance area is dark enough that no one else saw, and no one can see the flush creeping over my skin.
Trent lowers my leg t
o the ground and spins me so my back is flush to his front. I grind back into him, and he swivels his hips to the slow tempo of DaVido’s “Risky.” I feel hot all over, my skin sticky, and I still don’t want to put any distance between our bodies. If I could, I would crawl inside Trent. I swear he can read my thoughts because, soon, he’s maneuvering me out onto the deck and into the cooler night air. Couples out here are still dancing, while others gather around the edge of the bar. Trent leads me over to the rail, a wolfish grin on his face.
“I’ll have to give you margaritas more often,” he tells me, leaning down close to my ear so only I can hear his words. Even sweaty, he smells delicious.
Trent barks out a laugh. “You smell pretty amazing yourself, Scar. I know you taste even better.” My hands come up to cover my face, realizing I’m thinking out loud.
“Yes, you are.” Trent is still smiling, and I think I hate him, then he pulls me closer. “You don’t hate me, baby. You love everything I do to you, and I happen to think this drunk babbling is adorable.”
I full-on pout. I’m drunk, and I don’t give a crap. I want to give him a piece of my mind, but the way he’s looking at me right now, the hunger, the raw emotion flashing in his eyes, stops me. It steals my breath away. Then I hear it. The one song I’ve always sworn would be my wedding song. If I lived long enough to get married. It was my mom’s favorite and the haunting lyrics yank on my heart strings.
Trent tugs my hand and pulls me into him. One of his hands holds mine against his chest while his other hand rests low on my back, right above the curve of my ass. “I Could Fall In Love” by Selena plays for us while Trent turns me in circles and I fight to keep my emotions in check. I feel too deeply, care too much about him, and in such a short time that it scares me. The first time I saw him, his soul called to mine. I tilt my head back, searching his face. His ocean eyes feel like a warm caress as they envelop me, pull me under, and steal the breath from my lungs. I want to stay like this forever. Drowning and completely his. I could fall in love with him. I just don’t think he could love me back. He doesn’t know how damaged I really am.
I wake the next morning, naked except for my underwear, in bed and alone. I can smell Trent’s body wash and his faint citrus scent on the pillow next to me, so I know he slept here. Surprisingly, my head is not throbbing as much as I thought it would be. I vaguely remember chugging water before I collapsed in my bed. I do not remember how I got home though.
I stand on wobbly legs and make my way to the bathroom before stepping into the shower. By the time I’m done, I feel almost like a brand-new person. My stomach picks that moment to growl. I shuffle over to the door and open it.
“Morning, or afternoon, I should day.” Trent smirks at me from where he’s leaning on my bed. Images of the day before flash in my mind, and all the creative ways Trent bent my body. My cheeks heat and I break his gaze. He laughs lightly, like he knows what I was thinking. It really shouldn’t get to me. I loved everything that happened and so did he. I drop my towel and walk naked over to the dresser where my swimsuits are stashed away. Even across the room, I can feel Trent’s scorching gaze trailing fire all over my exposed body. Once my suit is on, I throw a cut-off t-shirt over my top, before turning to face him.
Trent runs a finger over his bottom lip thoughtfully, his eyes still trained on me. “Want to go for a ride with me today? Everyone else is hungover and sleeping it off all day. They won’t care if we leave for a few hours.”
“Sure,” I reply, shrugging my shoulders. My stomach rumbles again and finally Trent cracks a real smile.
“Let’s feed you first.”
He takes my hand and leads me downstairs to the kitchen. Rose has doughnuts, pastries, and muffins freshly baked and sitting out. The perfect carbs to soak up all the booze we drank. I automatically go for the raspberry Danish and inhale it in a few bites. Trent hands me a cup of coffee that I accept, thanking him profusely. He chuckles at my enthusiasm. “Aren’t you going to eat?”
“I already ate,” he tells me, shrugging. I sort of feel bad he was up for so long by himself. I drink the coffee quickly, which is lukewarm by now, but still tastes delicious. When I’m done, Trent takes my hand and leads me to the front door. He throws on his beat-up Vans and I slip on a pair as well. When we step outside, I see a black and silver motorcycle waiting for us.
“I said I’d take you for a ride,” he reminds me, tugging me behind him. A helmet sits on the back, and he helps me put it on, before fastening it under my jaw. I wait for him to hop on, straddle the bike between his solid thighs and put his own helmet on before I climb on behind him. My arms wrap around Trent’s middle, and I swear I feel his heartbeat through his shirt. He kicks up the stand and the engine roars to life. The vibration between my legs is powerful. Trent drives us down the gravel driveway, kicking up rocks and dirt as we go, until he hits the main road. We start traveling south, and I start to wonder how much of the area he knows and who told him where to go.
We drive for almost forty-five minutes before Trent pulls off the main road and carefully maneuvers us down a trail through some trees. I squeeze his waist harder with my arms while my legs clamp against the bike. At the end of the trail is a beach. He parks and we get off, leaving our helmets on the handle bars. I take off running across the white sand and toward the shore. There are no rolling waves here, only small tides lapping at the sand.
“How did you know about this?” I ask, my curiosity getting the best of me.
“Rosa was keeping me company while I waited for you to wake up,” Trent grins, “I told her what I had in mind and she gave me the directions.”
“It’s incredible here,” I say, unable to take my eyes off the shades of the crystal waters. The sun is already past its hottest point. The western sky is tinged pink. On the horizon, where the sky and water appear to meet, it looks like a swirl of cotton candy.
I strip my shirt up and over my head then walk into the water. It’s warmer than bathwater, so I keep going. When I turn back, Trent is watching me. “Are you coming?” My words seem to spur him on. He drops his shorts and tank, only wearing his boxers, wading in after me.
I get as far out as I can reach and wait for Trent. He picks me up the rest of the way and I float next to him, my arms hanging loosely around his neck. When the water gets to his chest, we stop, and he pulls my front to his. I use my knees to boost myself up, so we’re eye level, and my legs can dangle at his side. His hands land on my lower back. Silence passes between us. Trent’s body is strung tight, a tension radiating in the air around us. My fingers glide to his cheek, and I swipe my thumb over the curve of it. “Are you okay?”
His head lowers, and I feel myself start to panic. I’m about to open my mouth when he looks back at me. His eyes are full of so much emotion I’m almost crippled. If he wasn’t already holding me, I’d fall under. I can see into his soul with the look he’s giving me. It aches yet it’s beautiful at the same time. Slowly, Trent lowers his lips to mine, kissing me thoroughly, slowly, and passionately. My body quakes in his arms. I want more and I’m also terrified. “Scar,” he says my name, his voice husky. I feel tears sting my eyes, but I somehow manage to keep my eyes on him.
“Hmm,” I hum under my breath, glancing down at the water.
“This is going to sound crazy, but trust me, okay?” Trent starts, his finger hooking under my chin and tilting my head up. I can’t escape his gaze. “I know we haven’t known each other that long, I know our lives may take us in different directions, but baby, I’m falling for you. It’s hard to breathe when you’re away from me. All I can think about is when I’ll see you again, or how I can make you smile. I…it’s crazy and fast, but I need you to know, I meant what I said in Colorado. I want you with me. Will you stay?”
I stare at him until my eyes burn, my mind turning over every moment, every word, and everything I’ve been feeling since I first stepped foot in Florida. I gave myself three months and I already want to tip the scales to give myself m
ore time. I need more time. College isn’t going anywhere and while I haven’t put much thought into all the campuses, I know it’s something I can make a decision on later. I have to see this through first before I can even contemplate getting away from my father. I just need a way out that doesn’t hurt Trent in the process.
“Yes,” I tell him, my mind made up, the fight in me rising to the surface.
Trent’s eyes blaze with triumph. There is no warning before his mouth lands on mine, controlling, seeking, and loving. I grip his shoulders, pulling myself closer. I’m as desperate as he is to rid any barriers between us. I need Trent around me, wanting me, and deep inside me. His hands slide under my swim top and slips it over my head. I clutch the strings in my finger, while pushing my chest against his, my nipples brushing along his pecs. I moan, shamelessly into his kiss, his tongue gliding with mine until I’m practically boneless. Trent slides my bottoms off and also hands them to me before grabbing my hips. Briefly I’m lifted farther out of the water, before I’m lowered right onto his perfect dick. My pussy stretches around him, my breath catching a little when I feel him bottom out against my cervix. His hips roll up to meet mine, smashing my clit against his pelvic bone with enough friction to make my head tilt back at the same time my nails scrape across his back. There is a small twinge of pleasure pain, and I like it. He’s so deep, so perfect and mine. The water churns around us, heating from our skin, and lapping against my back. The ends of my hair swirl in the water, before Trent’s fingers dig into the locks, his hand cradling the back of my head while he sucks at the skin on my neck. His hips become frantic, while my own work to meet him thrust for thrust. Little sounds come out of my mouth, his name a constant plea on my lips. “That’s it, Scar,” he encourages me, the hand on my hip slamming me onto his dick faster, rougher, harder. “Come for me, baby. I want to watch you go over the edge while you strangle my dick with your tight pussy.” His words are my undoing, and I come, squeezing around him and shouting my release to the sky, thankful that the beach is secluded. Trent bites my lip, before pulling out and grinding his release against my stomach.