by Amy Andrews
His hands moved around to cup her bare breasts and she cried out, breaking off their kiss, her head falling back as he brushed his thumbs over her nipples. He took her hands from his waist and laid them palm down on the counter top, sliding them back behind her, forcing her torso into a slight recline, presenting her breasts to him.
‘Don’t move,’ he whispered, staring at them. Not too big, not too small, the rosy tips almost alabaster in the moon’s glow.
He ducked to nuzzle one, swirling his tongue around it, knowing the whiskers of his beard would also be prickling against the sensitive flesh. She gasped and he repeated the process on the other side before sucking it deep into the hot cavern of his mouth.
She moaned and arched her back and it went straight to Reid’s groin. ‘Reid.’
He taunted it, stretching it with his teeth and tongue as far as it would go before it slipped from his mouth. ‘They’re perfect,’ he muttered. ‘You’re perfect,’ before seeking the other one.
Reid couldn’t get enough. Of her nipples. Or the way she arched into his mouth, her hair almost brushing against the bench top every time, or the increasingly desperate noises Trinity made at the back of her throat.
Knowing that he was getting her so damn hot was intoxicating.
He was so lost in the pleasure of it he didn’t realised she’d manoeuvred herself more upright until her fingers breached the band of his underwear. They slid onto the taut flesh of his erection, wrapping around him, squeezing and sliding up and down.
He groaned, his mouth leaving her nipples to press his forehead against hers. ‘God, yes.’
He shut his eyes as pleasure rolled through him from his thighs to his buttocks. To the sling of muscles deep inside his pelvis to his abdominals. It moved in one long, luxurious undulation that weakened his knees as well as his resistance. The urge to find release between her thighs, slake his unruly desire for her, ran hot and insistent through his veins.
And then an almighty smash stopped them in their tracks.
His brain still fogged, Reid glanced over to find Ginger, sitting on the bench where Trinity’s glass of water had been seconds before.
‘Miaow.’
His heart thundered in his chest as he glanced at Trinity like a siren in the moonlight, her shirt rucked up, her chest rising and falling fast, beard burn marking her breasts and throat, her eyes glazed...
What the hell was he doing? What about being platonic? And friendship?
What about not crossing that line?
‘God...’ He shoved a hand through his hair, sucking in air, trying to regulate his breathing. ‘We shouldn’t be doing this.’
He yanked her shirt down, stuffed his erection back in his pants and took a step back. Then another, holding his hands up and away from his body. And hers. Not worried about broken glass. Just their predicament.
She stared at him, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. ‘Right.’ Although she didn’t sound convinced.
‘We agreed to be platonic.’
‘Yes.’ She nodded. ‘But.’
The but didn’t need anything added to it. He knew what it meant. But look at us anyway, not being platonic.
God, he was too keyed up for this. Too horny. Too close to the edge.
‘Do you think we can talk about it in the morning?’
Maybe in the morning he wouldn’t feel so much like pushing her down on the cold stone bench top and burying his head between her legs until she screamed his name. He was one yank of his underwear from penetration and he needed some distance.
‘Okay.’ She glanced at the smashed glass.
‘I’ll take care of it,’ he assured her hastily.
She looked at him for long moments, the confusion on her face rather unhelpfully spotlighted by the moon, before finally swinging her legs around the other side of the bench, away from the broken glass, and sliding off. He watched her until she disappeared into the shadows.
If he’d thought her leaving would make him feel better, he was sadly mistaken.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
THEY DIDN’T TALK about it the next morning, or the next day or the next, or the next. And now it was Thursday and Trinity was sitting waiting for Eddie’s physio appointment to finish, being ignored by Reid, who did not have a patient but was squirrelled away in his office anyway. She could see him through the window that faced the central rehab area.
Trinity had tried to talk to Reid about it on Sunday but he’d dismissed her attempts irritably and had pretty much been irritable ever since.
With her anyway.
He was obviously regretting his slip in judgement big time. Because he’d stepped over the line he’d told her he wasn’t going to step over again and Reid was a man of his word. But that could have easily been addressed on Sunday.
So it had to be more.
Like maybe he just didn’t fancy her. Sure, he was attracted to her but was it because of her or because she was a woman and he was a man and they were in close proximity?
A person didn’t have to like another person to have sex with them, after all. Her parents were a classic example of that.
She’d thought his talk about dreams had referred to her but maybe he’d been dreaming about someone else and she’d just been a convenient body to slake his thirst and then the glass had smashed and he’d suddenly realised who he was with.
The thought hurt. More than it should have. But she should have known that a guy like Reid couldn’t possibly be into a woman like her.
‘Hey, Trinity. Now aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.’
She glanced up from her magazine to find Chase beaming down at her. His smile was a balm to her ravaged ego and she beamed right back.
At least someone was into her.
‘Hey,’ she said as he lowered himself into the hard plastic chair beside her, his high-tech prosthetic leg almost completely bared in his workout shorts. ‘You’re here for your session?’
‘Nah, I only came to flirt with you. But don’t tell Reid. He can be a grumpy bastard when he wants to be.’
Trinity laughed. Wasn’t that the truth? She caught a movement in her peripheral vision and glanced over. Reid was standing in his doorway, looking at her and Chase, his lips pursed, his brow furrowed, disapproval pouring off him in waves.
He didn’t look like any kind of doctor in his jeans and dark T-shirt, his arm tats on full display. Not even the stethoscope slung casually around his neck helped. He just looked like a...lumberjack with a stethoscope.
Which was seriously freaking hot. Damn him.
‘Shouldn’t you be hitting the machines?’ Reid said, folding his arms.
‘All in good time.’ Chase winked at her and Trinity stifled another laugh.
Reid stiffened. ‘We have three people arriving in half an hour. If you don’t get on now you’ll miss out.’
He turned and stalked back into his room. Chase whistled. ‘Who put a bug up his ass?’
‘I have no idea.’
Except she did. And it couldn’t go on. She made a mental note to contact some local real-estate agents this week. Might as well get the ball rolling.
‘Well—’ Chase stood ‘—I’d better get on before he gives me a yellow card.’
He smiled at Trinity, not looking remotely concerned about any consequences Reid might dish out. She glanced in the direction of Reid’s office, catching him looking at her, before he returned his attention to his computer.
Well, screw him.
He couldn’t reject her and then be annoyed that some other guy was interested. She left the magazine on the chair beside her and wandered over to Chase, who was starting his warm up.
She could feel the burn of Reid’s gaze in the centre of her back as she sat on the floor beside Chase and chatted. In
fact she relished it. It was utterly childish but it felt damn good.
Chase wasn’t fooled though. ‘So I’m guessing you’re over here with me to make Reid jealous. Am I right?’
Trinity blinked at his directness. But Chase didn’t seem perturbed by the prospect. ‘Jealous? No.’ Absolutely not. ‘To piss him off, yes.’
Chase laughed a wicked laugh. ‘That works for me.’
* * *
Trinity was in the kitchen making a banana cake when Reid came home. She tensed as she glanced at the clock—ten past two. His footsteps diverted to the living room and she heard the rumble of two male voices for a couple of minutes.
Then he appeared in the kitchen.
He hesitated for a moment when he spotted her at the bench before nodding and crossing to the fridge. He pulled out a beer, twisted the top and tossed it into the sink from where he stood.
It landed with a clink.
He tipped his head back and took several long swallows. It took all Trinity’s willpower to keep her eyes on the job at hand and not feast her gaze on his neck.
‘You do know Chase flirts with every woman with a pulse, right?’
The sentence came from out of the blue. She’d been in a good mood since returning from Allura. But Reid seemed hell-bent on ruining that too.
‘Gee thanks,’ she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm as a spike of temper infected her bloodstream. ‘You sure know how to make a girl feel real special.’
‘Oh, for—’ He bit off whatever expletive he’d been about to utter. ‘I just meant you should be careful. The guy wouldn’t know monogamy if it bit him on the ass.’
‘Who says I’m after monogamy?’
He blinked, clearly taken aback. Good. A slightly crazed sensation pushed at the inside of her skull as an urge to let fly took hold. She’d learned not to argue over the years. Not to rock the boat. To grind her teeth and quietly submit.
But, he was really starting to annoy her now.
‘I would have thought being a single mum and having to think about Oscar—’
‘Don’t bring Oscar into this.’
‘I’m just saying,’ Reid pushed, obviously not going to let it drop. ‘He’s not daddy material.’
‘I’m not going to marry the man,’ Trinity said, letting the spoon fall to the bench with a loud clatter as she crossed to the pantry and opened the doors.
She searched the shelves for vanilla. She knew it was in here because Reid used it to make French toast on the weekends.
God, she’d never be able to eat French toast again without thinking of him in this kitchen, beating eggs and flipping bread fried to a perfect golden brown.
Her anger cranked up another notch.
She glanced over her shoulder. Reid was glowering at her and it frustrated her even more.
‘Maybe I just want a quick tumble,’ she said, her cheeks burning, her pulse throbbing wildly at her temples. ‘A few hours of goddamn pleasure. You ever thought of that?’
She turned back to stare blindly at the shelves.
Where was the bloody vanilla?
‘Seeing as how you don’t fancy me,’ she said, not bothering to turn this time because his rejection of her still stung, ‘why shouldn’t I look somewhere else?’
‘Don’t fancy you?’ His voice was deep and dark, brimming with annoyance.
Before she could blink his hands were on her shoulders and she was spun around and pushed hard against the pantry door. His face loomed up close, white-hot flame burning in the blue eyes that raked her face. His breathing was husky, his chest heaving.
‘I can’t get you out of my head,’ he muttered, each word puffing his breath in her face, disturbing her fringe. ‘If you had any idea how much I wanted to rip your underwear off with my teeth the other night you’d run screaming from this house.’
Trinity’s heart rate skyrocketed as his grip on her upper arms tightened and his lips slammed onto hers.
It was a kiss that took. That ruled. That owned.
Possessive. Demanding. His tongue thrusting into her mouth, taking the kiss deeper. The graze of his beard marked her face, prickling everywhere.
She felt it everywhere.
She was a slave to the sensation. A slave to the onslaught.
His thigh jammed between her legs, high and hard, grinding against the apex of her thighs. She moaned as her aching flesh revelled in the delicious torture, rubbing herself shamelessly against him.
But as quickly as it had started, it was over. His mouth was gone. The kiss was done. His hands still gripped her arms though, his thigh still jammed between her legs.
They stared at each other for long moments, nothing but ragged breathing between them. His mouth was wet and swollen, the white-hot flame in his gaze burning brighter. He grabbed her hand and shoved it on the hard bulge pressing against the zipper of his bike leathers.
‘This is not,’ he whispered, ‘about me not fancying you.’
He let her go abruptly and stormed out of the room.
Trinity’s legs wobbled for a beat or two before they lost the ability to keep her upright and she slid down the pantry door to the floor, her fingers pressed to her mouth, her mind wiped of coherent thought.
* * *
As dramatic as the kiss had been, it seemed to have cleared the air between them a little. At least they both knew where they stood. He did fancy her. And she fancied him. They were attracted to one another.
But that was as far as it was going to go.
He hadn’t articulated that part exactly but the things he hadn’t said were just as potent as what he had.
Strangely enough, despite her level of sexual frustration, Trinity was okay with that. Knowing Reid fancied her had done wonders for her ego even if she struggled to wrap her head around the why of it.
Knowing he wasn’t going to act on it was something she could live with.
Reid was trying hard to do the right thing. The guy had a strong sense of ethics, which wasn’t something she’d seen in a lot of men. Frankly, it was admirable as hell.
And what was one more thing she couldn’t have?
It didn’t mean she didn’t want to get out of Reid’s house as soon as possible though. She had enough money saved to start looking for somewhere to live and moving out was probably best all round.
Denial was easier when temptation wasn’t staring you in the face day in, day out.
But, as Trinity soon discovered, it wasn’t going to be as easy as she’d thought. It seemed late November through December was a busy time of year. Everyone wanted to be in new rentals by Christmas and real-estate agents had nothing on their books—nothing she could reasonably afford anyway that was within a ten-kilometre radius of the hospital because that was non-negotiable.
She’d seen Oscar deteriorate too quickly to be blasé about their address.
About a dozen realtors today had told her that she probably wouldn’t get anything now until the new year. She was on a wait list with them but she didn’t hold out much hope.
‘Damn it,’ she swore at the phone as she hung up from yet another Sorry, try us in January response.
‘Problem?’
Trinity looked over her shoulder, her pulse doing its usual tap dance at Reid’s voice. He was in the office doorway, taking up all the space as he shrugged out of his jacket, his T-shirt pulling taut across his abs.
‘Apparently trying to get a place to rent in December is like trying to find the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow.’ She turned back to the desk and scrubbed another realtor off the list. ‘I’ve been getting no room at the inn for two whole days now.’
‘I...didn’t realise you were planning on leaving so soon.’
She heard the frown in his voice and sensed him approaching. He sat
on the chair positioned beside the desk so she couldn’t not look at him. ‘I have enough saved up, thanks to you, and I’d hoped to be in our own place by Christmas. Our first Christmas in a place that’s just ours. Oscar’s never had that.’
He nodded. ‘That’s fair enough. But you know you’re more than welcome to stay on here. Pops and I do a pretty mean Christmas. He loves buying the biggest tree and stuffing presents under it. He’s like a big kid. And we ignore the fact it’s forty degrees outside and have the full turkey and pudding with all the trimmings. Pops would love to have you both here.’
Pops? What about him?
‘I would too.’
His smile was genuine and Trinity had to admit it sounded like nirvana. The only Christmas lunch they’d had in the last five years that hadn’t been in hospital had been at a soup kitchen. ‘Yes, but I’m reliably informed it’ll probably be January before more rentals become available.’
‘So?’ He shrugged and it stretched out the confines of his T-shirt. ‘Stay till January.’
It seemed so simple. So straightforward. But they’d impinged on Reid’s hospitality long enough. And then there was the elephant in the room. ‘It sounds great but...it’s probably for the best if we move as soon as possible, don’t you think?’
The gaze that met hers was frank. It was the first time either had made reference to their attraction and he didn’t bother to pretend he didn’t know what she was talking about.
‘I’m sure we can both survive each other’s company until the new year,’ he said with a dry twist in his tone. ‘And think how much better off your financial position would be by then.’
Trinity had to admit he made a good point. About her finances. She wasn’t entirely sure about the other. The urge to straddle him right now, feel the soft leather of his bike pants against her inner thighs, feel him driving into her, was so strong she returned her attention to the computer.
‘Look, I assume you’re on some kind of wait list with some agencies?’
‘Yes.’
‘Well, if something comes up then take it. Pops and I will help you move. If not, stay here with us. It’s absolutely fine. No pressure either way, okay?’