Shattered Dreams (Dreams Series Book 1)

by Hicks, Braxton

  And it did. Once we got past the deflowering part, it was a piece of cake. One that I wanted to enjoy over and over again - with him and only him.

  Afterwards, he drew a warm bubble bath for me. He put a clean towel next to the tub.

  “I’ll give you your privacy,” he said gently. “You probably should soak for a little while in the warm water.”

  I nodded. It amused me that he felt guilty about sex being painful for me the first time, even though he'd acted all technical and textbook about it at first. I relaxed for a long time in the soapy water and finally drained the tub when it had turned lukewarm.

  I toweled myself dry then brushed my teeth. I combed out my still-damp hair. I went out into the living area. Trey was in his boxers, sprawled across a chair, watching a sports channel. His hair definitely had that messy look and a stab of pride hit me knowing that I had been the one responsible for that. He looked up as I walked in the room. Those gorgeous blue eyes perused me from top to bottom.

  “Hey you,” he said softly, holding his arm out to pull me into his lap. “Are you feeling better now?”

  “I feel fantastic,” I said, leaning down to kiss his full sensual lips. “In fact,” I said, sitting up alert, “I’m ready for round two.” I laced my arms around his neck planting kisses all over his gorgeous concerned face.

  “No, no, angel, you’ve worn me out,” he laughed.

  I doubted that very much. I think Trey was somehow still feeling guilty. He lifted me up off of him, turning off the television with the remote.

  “Let’s get some sleep. It’s been a big day and tomorrow I want to get up early so we can pick up your birthday gift.”

  “I thought I just got it,” I said, wickedly. He smacked my behind and chased me to the bedroom.

  I suddenly noticed that the king-size bed was remade.

  “Why’d you make the bed up?” I asked, hoping he didn't have some sort of an OCD thing going on.

  “I didn’t,” he answered. “I called housekeeping while you were in the bathtub and told them that the bed needed changing. They sent someone up.”

  “Oh my God!” I gasped. “Someone saw the blood on the sheets?”

  It was now my turn to freak out. I was the one who had to face the checkout staff in the morning.

  “What?” he said, totally clueless. “I thought clean sheets would be better than keeping the bloody ones on the bed. Besides, I didn’t want us arguing over who was going to have to sleep on the wet spot.”

  “You're so bad,” I said, laughing.

  He picked me up and tossed me on top of the sheets. We climbed under the covers, cuddling each other. I was totally spent, but it was a good feeling, a satisfied feeling. Trey had played my body as if it were a delicate musical instrument. I wasn’t frigid; I wasn’t a whore, either. I was simply a woman who loved the feel of a man—strike that—a woman who liked the feel of Trey, inside of me.

  I felt his slow even breathing softly against the back of my neck. He was asleep. His arm was wrapped around me protectively and possessively. I contemplated how our relationship would be going forward. Trey had made his position perfectly clear. I wondered if it would be really that simple for him. He wanted no complications. I got that, but sometimes it was the complications that made life interesting.

  Chapter 24

  When I awoke, Trey’s arm held me close. I could feel his erection against my backside. I turned to look at him. He was still sleeping. I marveled at his extraordinary looks. So beautiful, and for now, he was mine.

  I placed soft kisses all over his face and neck, bringing him awake with my touch, and his hands were quick to find their place on my body. We explored one another slowly and leisurely, memorizing every square inch of each other's body.

  And then we made sweet love again.

  Afterwards, Trey and I showered, ordered breakfast from room service, and were dressed for the day. I wore a new outfit that I’d bought with Gina. Trey wore his suit from the previous night. He phoned a cab to take him back to his apartment. It was 10:30 a.m. and checkout at the hotel wasn't until noon. He promised that he'd be back to pick me up at noon and take me to the airport.

  When he left, I called Gina’s room. She answered groggily.

  “Gina, what are you doing?” I asked.

  “What the hell you think, girlfriend? I’m sleeping here, next to my hubby. Why?”

  “Trey and I did it last night!”

  “Did what? Are you freakin’ telling me that you two tied the knot? What?” I heard Ian mumble something to her, and she hushed him up.

  “No, we didn’t get married. We made love,” I replied dreamily. “I’m no longer a virgin,” I declared proudly.

  “What the—?” Gina was shocked. I heard her tell Ian to shut up, and then she was back on the phone. “I’ll be right down to your room. Ian's bitching at me to be quiet. Don’t move.”

  I'd barely hung up the hotel phone when she was pounding on my door. I opened it and she stood there in her silk camisole with matching shorts.

  “Okay,” she said, pulling me behind her to the sofa where we sat down. “I think there's some clarification in order here.”

  “Okay,” I said. “What do you want clarified?”

  “Are you shitting me?” she practically hollered. “You freaking drop two bombshells on me this morning and you don’t think I’m not a bit confused? Number one: you just for the first time ever fucked Trey?” she asked.

  I nodded, adding, “I would prefer to view it as making love.”

  “Whatever,” she waved me off. “Secondly, you're telling me that this is the first time you’ve made love, had sex, fucked - whatever you choose to call it, with anyone?”

  “Yes.”

  “Well I’m pissed!” she declared. “You never told me that you were still a freakin’ virgin.”

  “Well, you never asked,” I shrugged.

  “I should continue being pissed at you because friends are supposed to tell friends stuff, but what the hell, I’m dying to know. How was it?” We both shrieked and laughed in unison.

  “Oh my God,” I said, pulling my knees up and wrapping my arms around them. “It was so intense, Gina. I never thought it would be like that. I mean I had several orgasms and I’m pretty sure I’ve had two of the four kinds that I read about in Cosmo.”

  “Really?” she asked, her eyes getting wide. “Tell me this, girlfriend,” she lowered her voice as if there was someone else in the room, “how's he hung?”

  “I don’t have a point of reference to go by, but I'd say he’s huge.”

  “Huge, huh? Well how would you know if it’s huge if he’s the first one, you know?”

  “Well that’s it, I don’t know. It just seemed that way to me.”

  “Okay,” she said, looking around the room. She got up, went into the bathroom and returned with a can of my hair spray. “Using this as a point of reference,” she said, handing me the can, “show me how Trey’s pecker compares to this hair spray can.”

  I thought for a moment, recalling how far my hand had glided from root to tip when I was massaging it. I closed my eyes, and encircled the can with my right hand, stopping at the spot where I estimated the end of his erection to be.

  “Right to here,” I said, holding the can up to show her his length. Her eyes widened.

  “Shut up!” she said, “you're lying, girl! Okay, okay,” she continued, “let’s look at girth.”

  She turned the can on its side so that the circumference of the bottom was visible. “Here,” she instructed, “I want you to take your thumb and your index finger and bring them as close to the tip of each one against the bottom of this can to show me approximately how thick his pecker is.”

  I did as instructed, showing her that it was way too thick for my thumb and index finger to touch.

  “Oh my God!” she cried. “How in the hell are you walking today?”

  We both dissolved into laughter. “Seriously though,” Gina said, “I'd no idea t
hat you and Trey had never been sexual. You two have this freakin’ chemistry like I’ve never seen before. What the hell took you so long?”

  “Trust me, I was ready,” I replied. “I think he had concerns about all my baggage, you know, finding out all that stuff about my mom; the dreams and nightmares about my past.”

  “You never shared any of that with me. Why?”

  “Trust doesn’t come easy to me. That’s probably because of my mom and growing up with her. Even now, it’s hard for me to tell you that much. I don’t know. It’s like I was in denial for a while, then clearly ashamed when I did start to come to terms with it. Trey knows these things about me, not because I shared with him, at least not at first, but because he was around during a lot of my nightmares. Do you remember that note you picked up on the floor of my cottage?”

  “Yeah,” she said, “the one that called you ‘Sissy’?”

  I nodded. “I never shared what that meant with you. I was in denial…it’s called repressed memories. But I knew what it was.”

  Gina stared at me, listening.

  “It turns out my mother was a prostitute. I simply thought she was a whore, which I guess is just as bad, perhaps worse, but the man who left that note was someone who’d been associated with her in her past. He actually sexually molested me during one of my mom’s ‘date nights.’ I was thirteen at the time. He did it digitally and orally,” I clarified, not wanting her to think the worst.

  I continued, “But the thing is, I've no clue who or where he is and how he's managed to find me. Trey and I went to Louisville to find some answers. We still have more questions.”

  Gina’s eyes teared up as she leaned over and hugged me. “Girlfriend, I'm so sorry,” she cried. “And here I am, always being so fucking outspoken and judgmental where you're concerned. What a bitch you have for a friend,” she wailed.

  “I wouldn’t have you any other way,” I reminded her.

  “So,” she said, wiping her eyes and sniffling a bit, “what’s on your agenda with Trey now that you’ve…uh…broken the seal?”

  “I don’t really know.” I didn’t want to get into the part where Trey and I had made the pact. “He wants us to be exclusive,” I said.

  “I should fuckin’ hope so. You gave the man your cherry, Tylar. He must know how significant that is.”

  “He does,” I defended Trey. “It’s just that, you know, I actually work for him, so we aren’t going to be overtly public.”

  “No worries,” Gina assured me. “I won’t say a word to anyone except Ian. We don’t have secrets from each other and he certainly wouldn’t say anything to anyone else.”

  Gina and I chatted while I finished up my packing. I wore a really cute pair of capri pants with a cotton cami top that had a built in push up bra. I'd blown dry my hair and was wearing it down. Everything was packed up and ready.

  “Trey's taking me to the airport,” I told her. “I really want to thank you for giving me the best birthday that I could have ever imagined.” We hugged again.

  “This ain’t goodbye girlfriend you know. I’ll be back in Bristol when the next bumper crop of fermented wine is in.”

  As noon approached, I called down for a bellhop. He was up to the room shortly with the luggage cart, loading my suitcases. Gina wanted to walk me down to the lobby. I discouraged her on account of her short pajamas. Besides, I was afraid that I'd cry.

  “Call me this week,” she instructed.

  “I will,” I promised. “Tell Ian that I said ‘Bye,’ and thanks for everything.”

  “I’ll do it,” she said, giving me one last hug as she disappeared down the hallway to their suite.

  I approached the desk to settle up for the room service breakfast Trey and I'd enjoyed this morning. As I reached for my billfold, Trey came up behind me, placing his hand on the small of my back.

  “I’ve got this, angel,” he said, smiling down at me. He paid the bill and took my hand, leading me to the front entrance. The bellboy followed us out the front entrance of the hotel with my luggage.

  Trey steered me over to the outer lane of the drive-up circle to the hotel. There was a brand new, cherry red Mercedes-Benz SLK 350 Roadster parked there.

  What’s this? Did he buy yet another expensive car? Trey popped the trunk and the bellboy stowed my luggage inside. Trey handed him a tip, and then walked me around to the passenger side, opening the door for me. I got in, noticing the new car smell. Trey got in, instructing me (as always) to fasten my seat belt.

  “Nice car,” I commented. “Is this your Atlanta car?”

  He smiled. “No Tylar, this is your Bristol car.”

  What?

  “Trey…” I started.

  “I won’t argue with you about this. This is my gift to you for your 21st birthday. I want you to have it. The color fits you. It's the color of fun, it’s the color of passion, and it’s the color you'll make me see if you give me any shit about taking it. Got it?”

  I leaned over and hugged him. “Thank you, Trey. I love it.”

  He was on the interstate in a matter of minutes. “So,” I asked, “is this as fast as your Lamborghini?”

  Trey laughed good-naturedly. “I’m afraid not. I want you to take things a bit slower. This car gets zero to sixty in five point four seconds. I think you can handle that, don’t you?”

  He drove past the exit to the airport. I looked over at him for an explanation. “We’re driving back to Bristol, Tylar. How else would we get your car to you?”

  “Oh, right,” I laughed. I settled back in my new sports car. Perhaps eventually Trey would let me drive it. He played soft classical music over the system that lulled me to sleep. I dreamed of our night together and the passion that we'd shared. I wished that it would always be that way between us. I wondered if this was how it was supposed to be when you loved someone. The next thing I knew we were pulling into the long, winding drive of the estate up to the manor.

  “Wake up, baby,” Trey said softly. “We’re home.”

  “We’re at your home,” I replied.

  “You're staying here with me tonight. No argument.” He got out of the car and opened my door for me to get out. As always, Thatcher was coming out the front door, gathering my luggage and taking it into the manor. Trey put his arm around me, leading me up the winding staircase to his suite. I was exhausted.

  “Do you want something to eat?” he asked.

  I shook my head. “I really want go to bed, if that’s all right.”

  “Of course,” he answered.

  I looked in Trey’s closet for one of his shirts to wear. I put it on, buttoning only a couple of the buttons. I pulled the covers down from his bed, and crawled beneath them. Trey came back into the room just as I got settled in. He came over to my side of the bed, bending down and smoothing my hair back.

  “I’ve got some work to do in my study, okay? I’ll be up in an hour or so.”

  I nodded, feeling his lips brush my forehead again before he went to the door, turning out the light before he left. It was some time later that I felt Trey climb into bed next to me. He smelled freshly showered. He curled up next to me, pulling me in close to him, and wrapping his arm around me. I slept the whole night cradled in the comfort of his strong body.

  Chapter 25

  Trey and I ate breakfast together the next morning. He wore khakis and a polo shirt. I was dressed for my day of dressage training. Trey had hired Mark Montgomery, an expert trainer in classical dressage who'd competed both in Europe and the U.S. He'd worked the first couple of weeks alone with Derringer and today was my day to start with him and the horse.

  Mark felt that Derringer would be ready to test at Intermediare 1 in a few weeks. I wasn’t sure that I'd be ready. Mark made it look so easy. I was struggling with timing, particularly in the half halt.

  “How’s the dressage training coming along?” Trey asked, as if on cue.

  “Mark says that Derringer is nearly ready to test to Level One; he wondered how much
training he had previously.”

  “I bought the horse in England as a yearling,” Trey answered. “Then, my former fiancée trained him for a little more than a year.”

  “I didn’t realize you'd been engaged,” I lied, hoping for more information.

  “Maybe I'll stop by the arena later and watch you ride. I want to make sure this trainer's worth his fee.”

  Trey had successfully changed the subject. “How late will you be working with Derringer?” he asked.

  “We usually train for two hours in the morning and two hours in the afternoon.”

  “You didn’t answer my question, Tylar. What time are you finished for the day? I want to go to dinner tonight.” He sure sounded like it was serious.

  “I’m usually back at my cottage by 4 p.m.”

  He rolled his eyes when I mentioned my cottage. He seemed to be in a mood today. “Good, we’ll leave here around 6 p.m. Can you meet me up here then?”

  “Of course,” I said, and then went down to the stables, thankful to be about my business today. Something was going on with Trey. He seemed agitated.

  One of the downsides of the dressage training was that the arena was located over at the Belle, making it hard to avoid Jenna. She did her share of running into Mark, it seemed. It was fairly obvious she had her hooks out for him. Mark didn’t seem to notice.

  Mark had a slender but muscular build, average height, not nearly as tall as Trey. He had sandy-brown hair and green eyes. I estimated that Mark was close to the same age as Trey, though he had a more casual demeanor. Yet when he trained horses, he was extremely intense and accurate. I knew that Derringer was more advanced than I from the way he responded to Mark’s cues versus mine. I certainly didn’t want Derringer to regress in his training when I rode him. Mark said my job was to bring the horse around, not the horse’s job to bring me around.

  When Derringer and I arrived at the arena, Jenna was perched on the gate talking to Mark. She was laughing and flipping her hair. Shouldn’t she have had her hair in a bun by now? The daily tours of the mansion started at 10 a.m. and the workers were supposed to be in full period costume by 9:30 a.m.