Dropping the banana onto the table, I grab his wrist just as he turns away and bring his attention back to me.
“Thank you.”
I don’t expect it, but his features soften and he utters, “You’re welcome,” just as he goes back to making a plate for himself.
Gripping the butter knife from the dish in front of me, I slice the banana onto my toast and take a hearty bite. The softness of the bread mixed with the egg and cinnamon explodes in my mouth, and I let out an ungraceful moan that finally brings Izzy’s attention to the food on the table.
“I’m guessing it’s good?” she asks, breaking off a piece and stuffs it into her mouth as she swipes across the screen on her tablet.
“This is really good, Trevor. Just don’t tell my agent I’m eating like this. She’ll have me on a juice cleanse faster than Hollywood couples get divorced.”
And that reminds me that I probably need to check in with Priscilla. It’s rare for us to go this long without speaking. Hell, normally we don’t go longer than two hours.
Priscilla has been my agent since I moved to Los Angeles. She found me working at a local coffee shop, like many acting dreamers, and booked me an acting gig the next week. I’ve been lucky, because she’s also someone I consider a friend. She looks out for me and takes care of me as if I’m her child, which, for someone who grew up in a house where I never felt wanted, is a nice feeling.
The room falls into silence as we each enjoy the breakfast Trevor prepared. I glance around the average-sized kitchen with white cabinets and stainless-steel appliances, very neutral and very un-Izzy. I hadn’t noticed the other day, but the longer I stay in the house, the longer I feel that the place is detached from my friend.
Finally, I’m drawn to the mass of body heat permeating in the space beside me. Green eyes bore into me curiously, as if looking for something that isn’t there. Our eyes lock and a wave of sincerity filters through his irises, an apology on the tip of his lips.
Instead, I break the stare and turn my attention across the way. “Hey, Iz, how come you don’t have to work today?”
“Well, I have to work the shift on Saturday morning, so I get to take today off, and I like volunteering at the center.”
Taking another bite of my toast, I ask, “So, what can I expect while we’re there? What kind of volunteering will we be doing?”
“Whatever they need help with, but usually we’re just asked to socialize with the patients. Many of them don’t get visitors very often, if at all, so they love when we visit. And they’ll be in the presence of the remarkable Quinn Miller.”
A blush rises on my chest and makes its way up to my cheeks at her flattery.
“But don’t worry. The infatuation with you will die quickly when their very own protector, Trevor Shaw, graces them with his attendance. We may even get to see a few butt grabs.”
“Oh, Trevor, do you have some admirers?” I jest as I prop an elbow on the table and rest my chin in my hands, smiling at him with a twinkle in my eye.
“I do, actually,” he plays along, stretching his muscled arms above his body and then folding them behind his head, his biceps flexing with the movement, leaving me transfixed. “You’ll have to watch out for Mr. and Mrs. Sampson. I’m pretty sure back in the day they used to be swingers. They always ask when I plan on bringing around a girl, and Mr. Sampson always gets this far-off look on his face.”
“So? That doesn’t make them swingers,” I protest.
“Well, I also found them trying to pocket my handcuffs as they spoke with the Coleman couple, and they weren’t very quiet about their intentions.”
My eyes expand beyond their limits as I gasp in surprise. I had thought he was kidding, but now I’m not so sure. I look over at Izzy, who nods enthusiastically as she covers her mouth with her hand.
“I’m not sure if you’re trying to pull one over on me or not, but can you please point them out when we get there so I can make sure I don’t say anything or do something stupid?”
Trevor chuckles and then agrees, and I silently finish the breakfast hoping he was just pulling my leg; otherwise, I’m going to get up close and personal with some seniors who have a more active love life than I can ever dream of.
*
THE DALE CITY ASSISTED Living Facility was built after I moved away, so I wasn’t sure what to expect. My comparison to a homeless shelter was completely off base though—this one in particular looks like a nice hotel, with plush carpets, freshly painted walls, and designer décor. It’s nicer than the first apartment I stayed in before I made it big in the business, and I’m thoroughly impressed.
A shriek escapes my lips as I feel a tight pinch on my backside. Whirling around with the full intention of smacking someone, I startle when I come face-to-face with… air. I look down at an older woman hunched over her walker, staring at my ass.
“It’s so firm,” she mumbles. “Mine used to be firm like that.” She picks up her walker and hobbles a few steps, then repeats her motion as she heads toward the small treats table.
“Hey, Quinn. Are you coming?” Trevor asks as he and Izzy stand at the check-in area.
“Sorry,” I say as I make my way over to them, rubbing the now-sore spot on my ass.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I think so. Even though I was just accosted by an old lady. But at least I can take the compliment. Apparently my behind is very firm.”
With a tilt of his head, Trevor looks over my shoulder and down my back before assessing me slowly.
“Can’t say she’s wrong there. Maybe you’ll let me verify later?”
Unable to keep the smile from growing on my lips, I turn to look down at the check-in sheet Izzy handed me as I walked over.
“Maybe,” I whisper as I peer at him from behind my lashes, watching as his own smirk grows. Collectively I hear female-driven sighs from around the room and my grin widens. He definitely has more than one secret admirer.
“Hey, guys,” a deep voice says from behind us as Vic approaches, his eyes never leaving Izzy. “I’m glad you guys could make it. Want to meet my gram first? She’s dying to meet a real-life movie star. Even made me put on her lipstick.”
“Really?” Izzy asks breathlessly, like she can’t believe this large masculine man would do something so caring.
“Yeah, she likes to have her face on for guests. Come on.” We follow as we drop off the paperwork on the desk and grab our visitor badges.
Vic knocks on the door before opening it widely, ushering us inside. I don’t miss how his hand lingers on Izzy’s back as he shuts the door behind him.
We’re promptly introduced to Mrs. Calerone, who also seems to notice the way sparks are popping between Vic and Izzy. After about an hour of listening to Vic be embarrassed as she tells stories of him growing up, having raised him in Arizona until he graduated high school and she moved them closer to her sister in Houston, we all move back to the check-in area to find out where we’re needed. And as expected, they request us to the social hall, where some of the residents are playing games or watching television.
Trevor sidles up next to me as Vic and Izzy move toward the area where residents are playing a board game.
“Hey, did you want to work on reading lines?” he asks as he tugs the rolled-up script from his back pocket.
How had I not noticed it there before?
“Sure. I think Vic’s grandma and a few of her friends wanted to watch. I want to make it exciting for them, so would you mind running through scene three with me?” I ask, knowing full well it’s the scene where Kaitlyn and Brian kiss for the first time. I figured if there was a time to test our chemistry, that time would be now.
“That’s fine,” he replies as he walks over to an open space in front of the windows and opens the script. I notice the moment he comes across the kiss, his eyes growing in size as he looks over to me and then to Izzy, who’s luckily engrossed in a game with Vic and two other men.
Finding Mrs. Calerone in
the hallway, I direct her and her friends into the social hall and help them set up chairs so they can watch the small performance.
“We’re just doing a read-through, but I hope you enjoy it. The scene isn’t long, but it’s the first moment that Kaitlyn and Brian, the main characters, realize they have feelings for each other. The problem is that he’s her boss and she hates him.”
“Ooo, this sounds juicy. Like that soap opera they play on the television after lunch,” Mrs. Calerone tells her friends gleefully.
In a soft whisper, Trevor asks if I need the script, but I shake my head. I’ve got the scene memorized; it’s actually my favorite out of the entire script. The first kiss typically is, being a hopeless romantic and all.
I shake out my limbs as I walk around in a small circle, letting my body and mind become Kaitlyn, the beautiful hard worker who’s had enough from her boss.
“Ms. Long, can I see you in my office?” Trevor’s deep voice commands as he becomes the egotistical CEO Brian.
Kaitlyn doesn’t acknowledge his request, just simply stands from her desk and follows behind him, noticing how his gray slacks pull tight against his behind. Something she’s noticed more and more often.
Brian shuts the door behind them and gestures for her to take a seat as he rests against his desk of metal and glass.
“So tell me, Kaitlyn, why should I keep you on board? As you can see, in the past month it’s been brought to my attention that your work has been suffering.”
“Suffering? Mr. Sage—”
“Brian. Please call me Brian.”
“Brian,” she sneers, “I’ve been staying late every night since you cut staff, doing the projects of at least five other people who you let go and who haven’t been replaced as of yet on top of tackling my own work. If my work is suffering, it isn’t because of me, it’s because of you.” Kaitlyn stands and walks closer to Brian, her anger palpable in the air and filling the room. “And furthermore, I wish you would stop taking your lack of skills as a CEO out on your employees. We’re busting our asses here while you sit behind this desk cleaning house.”
“Too bad your wishes aren’t going to be granted, Kaitlyn.”
“God, what is wrong with you? Don’t you have any feelings? Don’t you care that you’ve fired over 75 percent of this company from jobs they’ve held since they came out of college? These aren’t just puppets, Brian, they’re people too, with families to take care of.”
“I’m sorry you feel that way.”
“Well, I’m sorry I feel anything toward you,” she proclaims before realizing the words have spilled from her mouth. Her hand goes up to block her lips and she takes a step back, nearly tripping over the chair in her earnest to leave, but Brian’s hand lashes out, capturing her wrist.
“What do you feel toward me, Kaitlyn?” he asks as his thumb strokes her wrist.
“Hate. Disdain. Anger. Take your pick.”
Tugging her closer, he brings them toe to toe, chest to chest, his steady breath mixing with her shaky one.
“I think you feel something else for me. Something you wish you didn’t—attraction.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Yes you do. I can smell your arousal from here, I bet you aren’t even wearing panties under that skirt of yours. Tell me, Kaitlyn, if I kissed you right now, would you turn me in for harassment?”
Her eyes widen in fear, and shock, and lust as he tilts his head toward hers and arches his hips closer to her pelvis, his erection evident.
“Would you, Kaitlyn?”
“No,” she whispers as he seals his lips over hers.
No cautious lover, he slips his tongue between her parted lips and explores her mouth as if it’s his dying wish. And perhaps it is, but she welcomes the intrusion. Welcomes her lack of resistance. Welcomes the theory that she’s about to lose her job to the first man she’s felt anything for in years—hate and lust.
A growing round of applause echoes in the room, bringing both me and Trevor back from our interlude. That was a close call, but now my body aches to finish what we started, and based on Trevor’s dilated gaze, he wants the same.
“That was some kiss,” Izzy concurs as she saunters our way with Vic hot on her heels.
“Young lady, that was more than just a kiss. That was real passion. I haven’t seen chemistry like that since I lost my Bernie, God rest his soul. You two blew me away. You are one talented actress, Miss Quinn.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Calerone.”
Vic steers his grandmother and Izzy back toward her room, but under her breath, I hear Izzy mumble, “Just some kiss, my ass.”
A soft grip steers my elbow, and I turn to find Trevor eyeing me warmly.
“Hey, they asked if we wouldn’t mind folding some of the linens for them. Are you game?”
“Sure. Just lead the way.”
Lead me anywhere you want.
Chapter Ten
Trevor
I STEER QUINN DOWN a few halls and corridors before we locate the space. A blast of heated air pours out of the laundry room and surrounds us as I open the door.
“Damn, it’s like a sauna in there. Now I know why they asked us to help. Who in their right mind would take this on?” I whine as I take in the washers and dryers whirling with their packed loads.
Along the wall, we see bags of linens marked “clean” and drag one over to the counter running along one entire wall. We work in silence, each of us grabbing towels and sheets, folding the over-bleached white material.
“Crap, it’s hot as hell in here,” Quinn sighs as she wipes the sweat forming on her brow. She would look utterly miserable to anyone passing by, but fuck if she doesn’t look just absolutely gorgeous with the slick skin and damp hair. I watch as a bead of sweat drips down the clavicle of her neck and travels between her breasts, seeping under the coverage of her dress.
I’m mesmerized. And fucking needing her more than my next breath.
I crumple the mass of sheets in my hands and toss it aside on the counter as I stalk toward Quinn. Her head whips around and she backs up against the wall as I corner her.
“Trevor?” Her voice trembles as I move closer.
“Fuck, you look beautiful like this. I want you now, Quinn. I need to have you.”
“But someone could see,” she tries to explain, but my mind is elsewhere, particularly on the heave of her breasts as they rise and fall with her breathing.
“Quinn, I don’t care if the Pope walks by. I need you.”
I snake my hand under her braid to the back of her neck and tilt her head back, drawing her attention solely to me. She gazes up at me, fire and heat penetrating me through her steady gaze. I slip my other hand under her skirt, stroking the slick skin of her legs.
A raptured moan vibrates in her chest, and I inwardly smile at her reaction. My sweet Quinn enjoys my hands on her body.
I bunch the material up to her waist and rock my hips against her, letting her feel what she does to me. The heat from her sex diffuses through my pants straight to my cock.
I rock into her a few times as I passionately meld our mouths together. Her taste is so sweet, like pure sugar.
Guiding my hand upward, I push her panties aside and slide my fingers through her slickness. It’s addictive the way her body reacts. Quinn closes her eyes as I move inside her, bringing her closer to her precipice.
Suddenly her eyes open and she stares up at me as her hands push at my chest, causing me to step back. I wonder for a moment if I’ve done something wrong, but then Quinn’s attention falls to my cock straining behind my pants and she drops to her knees before me, striking me mute.
Her eyes peer up at me, slightly unsure but heated at the same time as her hands work on their own accord to release the zipper and button on my pants. My cock whips out from the waistband of my boxer briefs as she tugs them down, and her attention falls onto the swollen head.
I groan as her small fingers wrap around my girth, barely
able to contain it in her grip. Quinn’s lips part slightly as she begins to move her hand up and down my shaft, twisting her palm slightly with each stroke. It’s almost more than I can bear but indescribably wonderful at the same time, not just her tight fist but the fact that it’s Quinn stroking me.
“Damn, Quinn.” I toss my head back, the sweat that had been building upon my hairline now dropping down my back.
“Does this feel good? Am I doing it the way you like?”
“Baby, if you do it any better I’ll be exploding all over you.”
“Hmm,” she murmurs. “I may like that.”
And fuck, if I wasn’t already on the verge of reaching an uncontrollable point with her, I sure as hell am now as she puts her mouth on me, tasting me, savoring me, craving me.
Her tongue swirls around the bulbous head before she releases it with a pop, her mouth greedily sucking my erection back into the warm abyss of her mouth. A light slurping noise sounds from the way her cheeks hollow out with every pass. I brace my hands on the cool wall when I feel the back of Quinn’s throat against my cock. It’s the most thrilling sensation I’ve ever had in my life, even more so than when I slid between her legs last night.
Which really has me wanting between her legs again.
“Stand up,” I request breathlessly, my cock straining for her mouth as she stands on wobbly legs.
“What’s wrong? Was it not good?” she asks, but I silence her with my mouth as I rotate us around and pin her against the wall.
“If it was any better I would go blind. I want you here, now.”
“Okay.” She nods but I have little patience for a reply as I stroke my hand between the juncture of her legs to find her soaked through her panties.
“You’re ready for me, aren’t you?”
“Always,” she moans as I move the center of her panties aside and slide my hand against her wetness.
After I slick my hand in her heat, I stroke it along my cock, making it jump in my palm.
Gripping one of her thighs, I hold it over my arm as I bend slightly, guiding my cock into her tight sheath. Our moans chime in unison as I slide to the hilt and then pause, letting her sex expand as it takes all of me in and adjusts to my size.
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