Say You Need Me

by Carrie Lomax

  “I’m that good.” She winked over her shoulder like a pinup girl. When she wasn’t feeling low or cornered, Janelle’s sass was playful, the kind of banter that drew male attention like a magnet.

  After dinner, they went out for ice cream. It was only nine, but Trent wanted to get Janie back to the hotel room. Immediately. For one thing, her gait was less awkward than it had been this morning, which meant she might be ready to get back in the sack. He sure as hell was.

  “You don’t still have the green dress from Friday, do you?”

  Janelle’s expression closed. “Maybe. Why?”

  Trent licked his cone. “No reason.”

  “I was going to toss it, but it’s still in my bag.”

  Frozen milk product wasn’t enough to douse Trent’s interest. “Good.”

  “You want me to wear it, I assume?” Janie rolled her tongue suggestively around the line between her ice cream and the cone. Trent’s balls tightened.

  “With the shoes. And the glasses, and nothing else.”

  “Who would you be fucking, Trent? Me or Rachel?” Janelle’s pink tongue swept over her bottom lip. Every muscle in his abdomen contracted.

  “Both of you. All of you.”

  Trent knocked before using the key card, his hands a little shaky from nerves. He was used to being the one getting schooled, by Penny. Reversing that role, watching Janelle explore, was incredibly hot. But it was also nerve-wracking.

  Janelle shooed him out of the room while she changed. After five minutes, he knocked. Janie cracked the door, a swath of dark hair falling over her forehead, which reached several inches higher than it would’ve if she was barefoot. A brief glance down revealed a lot of very naked leg and the shine of a patent shoe.

  “Gonna let me in?”

  She cracked the door wider. “Since it’s you.”

  The green dress skimmed her body. Trent swallowed. Janelle wasn’t wearing a bra. This time, she lifted her chin when she caught him checking. “What’s on the agenda tonight?”

  Trent pulled her close and brushed his lips over hers. It was so easy when she wore heels that solved the height difference. If this were real, he’d get her higher ones. The kind of shoes that weren’t meant for walking. “You tell me.”

  “Hm?” Dazed, Janelle draped her arms around his shoulders. Anticipation stoked higher at the press of her breasts against his chest. Trent placed his hands on her hips to make her step back. He made quick work of removing his tie.

  “You tell me, Janie,” he repeated. He rolled the tie around his palm and placed it in her hands. “You’re the boss tonight. Anything you want to try is on the table.”

  Her eyes widened. Her mouth formed an O. “Anything?”

  “All you have to do is ask.”

  She licked her lips. The silk length of his tie unspooled to the floor.

  “Are there any boundaries?”

  “Not on my side.”

  Anything Janie dreamed up, he’d undoubtedly already done.

  “Shouldn’t we have a…a safe word or something?”

  Janie was so funny. Straight as an arrow in her actions—mostly—and more than a bit adventurous in her thinking.

  “If you want. You’re in control. You decide if you need one.”

  “You’re not worried my imagination will be too much for you?” she asked slyly.

  “Should I be?” What in the hell was going through her head? Trent’s entire body tingled with anticipation.

  “I don’t know. I’ve imagined a lot over the past two days.” Janelle pulled the tie taut between her palms, the ends trailing loosely from her right hand.

  “Quit talking and show me, Janie.” Trent stepped closer, caressing her body with his gaze, a long, slow, appreciative down-and-up. The dress barely qualified as fabric. It was as thin as a whisper and showed everything beneath it, including Janelle’s magnificent nipples and the outline of a very small thong.

  “If that’s what you want, Mace.” Her tone was deceptively soft. “Take off your shirt.”

  His fingers weren’t altogether steady. If they had been, he might’ve been too obliging. Instead, he did a slow tease, mindful of the time when she’d first arrived and he’d undressed, and let her know he knew she was watching. This time she didn’t pretend to feel ashamed. Janie moved over him, propped with her arms on either side of his head. Their faces were mere inches apart, and for the first time, Trent felt uncomfortable. They were too close. The view was too intimate.

  “What are you doing?” he demanded gruffly.

  “I’m showing you what I think is good sex.”

  There was no avoiding the flutter of her lashes against his cheek as she slid the head of his dick along her center. Trent closed his eyes, that shouldn’t have pulsed in his body, but did. He’d done every dirty thing in the book, a fair number with Janelle. This slow tease was hotter than all of it. Combined.

  This was subtle. Intense. So was the kiss she brushed across his cheekbone as she slid slowly over him. A slight smile touched her lips as Janelle cradled his face in her hands. Trent couldn’t resist clutching her ass in an attempt to move her body faster.

  “Quit trying take control, Trent,” she whispered. Another soft kiss as her body ground hard over him. All he’d managed to do by digging his fingers into the swells of her ass was pull her close and tight against his body. They moved together, a single organism. Janelle’s teeth grazed his ear lobe. Electric waves pulsed through him, and Trent gasped.

  “Like that?” Janie’s voice was hardly above a whisper, so soft in his ear he might’ve imagined it. He moved, the stubble on his cheek grazing her skin as she did it again. She ran her fingernail along the edge of his other ear, the twin sensations supercharging every nerve. The sound Trent made didn’t resemble speech. She never let up the methodical grind.

  Trent sank his fingers into her ass, frantic to increase the pace. This orgasm promised to be the fiercest yet, pleasure pulling from every part of his body and consolidating in the tight knot of his balls.

  Janie went first. A shudder wracked her body as she buried her face in his shoulder and moaned. Trent’s fingers wove into her hair, trying to bring her even closer.

  “Now you can take over,” she said breathlessly, nipping his ear again.

  Trent cradled her skull in his palm and dug his toes into the mattress. He pounded into Janelle without finesse, beyond caring whether she liked this, too far gone to read signals. The orgasm was like jumping off a cliff or out of an airplane. Trent’s spine flexed as he unloaded cum he didn’t think he had left.

  The storm abated slowly. Trent’s heart beat pulsed so hard he felt its echo twitch in his dick, still buried in Janie’s tight, hot body. His face, pressed hard against Janelle’s shoulder, was plastered with bits of her long hair, those strands tickling him as always. Her scent permeated every breath. Their scent, redolent of sweat and salt. Their bodies, commingled.

  Bliss. Trent was too spent to do more than notice the thought and let it go.

  Janelle’s fingers traced a lazy pattern at the nape of his neck. He cracked an eyelid enough to see her features relaxed with contentment.

  All remaining stress seeped out of him. Trent relaxed into the aftermath.

  If only he could stay here, like this.

  If only this was real.

  If only he wasn’t still bound to Penny. In this moment, he hated her for the addiction that had nearly killed her, for releasing that fucking video, for the fact that he could never, ever shake free of her. Only a heartless jackass would abandon a disabled woman. Only a fool would accept anything less than his whole heart, and Penny had smashed it beyond repair.

  Janelle was no fool.

  Sharp resentment stung at how Penny haunted him even now. That this was his life. His dick began to soften, and he withdrew. The last thing either he or Janie needed was a condom fail.

  “Good?” Janie asked, half asleep.

  “Amazing,” he replied gruffly.

&
nbsp; “Plain old missionary sex. Don’t knock it.” She yawned.

  Huh. The least kinky sex he’d ever had was also the hottest. On the edge of sleep, Trent traced the line of her shoulder with his fingertips. The motion soothed him into letting down his guard. “Can you change your ticket?”

  “Mmm? Probably. Why?” Janelle snuggled closer, her hair cascading over his neck.

  “So we can stay like this a while longer. I’d pay for it.” Money didn’t need to be a barrier. He knew she didn’t have much. He did, though he was careful in how he spent it.

  Janelle raised her head onto one hand, her features relaxed. “When do you leave?”

  “Tuesday afternoon.”

  “I’ll call the airline in the morning.” She kissed him, and he rolled her over onto her back.

  You’re a dick for leading her on.

  He should’ve established ground rules at the outset. But if he’d introduced a discussion about not catching feelings, Trent was certain she wouldn’t have let him get anywhere near her. Tuesday at the airport, he’d make excuses about being out of practice—which was true—but he was still an asshole for asking her to extend her trip when there was no room in his life for sweetness and happiness. But Trent couldn’t let her go, not yet. He’d cling to every second he could keep her. Even if it meant hurting her more in the end.

  It was one of a litany of reasons he’d never deserve her. The idea of bogging down Janelle—with her romantic streak and newfound career interest—in the ongoing train wreck of his relationship with Penny was unthinkable.

  He might be an asshole, but he wasn’t cruel.

  11

  “I don’t want to go back.” Janelle’s stomach was hollow. She’d skipped lunch. They all had, to make their flights. Even if there’d been time to eat, she doubted she could’ve, though.

  “I thought you didn’t like Vegas?” Olivia spoke over the middle passenger of the hotel shuttle van. Somewhere behind them, Trent was crammed into the back seat of the shuttle van with a bunch of other guys.

  “I don’t. But I need to make a big change. I’ve been spinning my wheels in Florida. Not that I have any idea where to go. I have no job prospects, no money, and my credit’s Swiss cheese. I might have an idea about what I want to do, but I’m starting from square one.”

  “I hope you go for it, Janie. Thanks for organizing the cards and getting started with the introductions. I may need help with managing all the contact and follow-up. Are you interested in a freelance project?”

  “I’m always interested in paid work. The faster I can move out of my parents’ house, the better.” Janelle grabbed her seatbelt as the van bounced over a pothole.

  “Here’s my card. Keep in touch, Janie. You have talent. You could go far in this business.”

  “You think so?” Janelle had gotten the taste, but she didn’t know as much as she needed to if she wanted to make a go at this.

  “Yes, I know so. Give me a call and we’ll strategize.” Olivia’s expression turned pensive. “Where are things going with Trent?”

  Janelle turned away. “I like him, but I can’t figure out what’s going on with Penny. He says she’s not in the picture, but it doesn’t seem like I’m getting the whole story.”

  “I doubt any of us are. I’ve known the man since his second deployment. He was getting his degree online and was transferred into his first intel support unit. I’d almost given up on getting my degree. It seemed like too much, but he pulled me across the finish line. I owe him for that. Everyone knows about his ex-girlfriend and that tape, but he never talks about her.” The van pulled up to the curb and disgorged passengers like a clown car. Janelle bounded out, bag banging against her thigh. Last to emerge was Trent.

  “Have you ever watched it?” Janelle asked curiously.

  “No. My relationship with Mace is strictly professional. He’s a good egg, just don’t play cards with him. He’s still a shark. Cleaned out my entire unit in a week. See you inside,” Olivia waved, giving them as much privacy as she could.

  Trent sidled over to her. Goodbye seemed too final. But what to say?

  “Janie. I had a lot of fun this weekend,” Trent began.

  Her lids closed and opened, scratching like sandpaper over her eyes. “Me too.”

  “I’ll miss you.”

  She couldn’t stop the sniffle. “Me too. Call me when you get home?”

  Trent stepped back and ran his fingers through his hair, refusing to meet her eyes. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  Cold shock. She tried to speak, but words wouldn’t come out. She swallowed, her throat thick. “Why not?”

  “It was fun, but it’s best to make a clean break. For both of us.” His expression was sorrowful. Pitying. Don’t you fucking pity me. She hadn’t expected him to jump into a long-distance relationship but this? This was harsh. It stung to think he might’ve used her. Maybe all his sob stories weren’t even true. They’d known each other for three days and were practically strangers. “You can’t even make space for a phone call?”

  Anger chased away tears, so she surrendered to it. He’s been planning this.

  “I have to focus on the business. And there’s Penny…I’m out of practice with hookups. I didn’t want to end it like this.”

  End it. Over. Janelle’s heart expanded like it might explode, crushing her lungs from inside.

  “Penny? You’re not still with her, are you?” What the hell is the story with them?

  “Not exactly. I mean, she’s not well. I can’t just abandon her.”

  The blow was crushing in its force. Trent was a good man. Not hers, though. He was Penny’s and always would be. He’d gone six years without sex. Janelle cursed herself for not understanding the implications sooner. “There was never any chance for us beyond this weekend? Was there, Trent?”

  “Don’t be like this, Janie.”

  “I am like this. This is me. I get attached. I can’t…do it if I don’t care about someone. That’s why I don’t do hookups…I never meant to start with you.”

  “What did you think this would be?” Trent’s expression was unreadable.

  Her phone beeped. Janelle checked it, eager for any excuse to stop gawping at Trent while she waited for him to respond. Janelle didn’t want these to be the last words they said to one another. She opened her mouth to speak and tasted cotton. Trent’s strong arms wrapped around her shoulders. Her nose hurt. She had to get away before she started using Trent’s shirt as a tissue.

  Penny wouldn’t like that.

  She pulled away. Trent didn’t stop her.

  Well. You wanted to solve your own problems. Here’s your chance.

  * * *

  “How was your trip, sweetie?” Catherine, her mother, folded Janelle into an embrace.

  “It was fine.” Florida’s balmy warmth enveloped her, cloying and sticky.

  “That’s all you have to say?”

  Janelle’s body froze as if she’d been dropped into a plunge pool. “Why do you ask, Mom?”

  They were in the car now, the highway an endless asphalt ribbon streaking beneath them.

  “You were in Miami all weekend. We didn’t hear from you once. I expected you to check in at least once or twice.”

  Janelle closed her eyes. She’d been faking happiness for so long, she hardly knew what it felt like anymore. Until Trent. On her birthday, she’d sworn something big had to change. She’d been willing to do anything—or almost anything, given she’d backed out at the last second—to avoid making the real changes that would make a difference.

  “Mom.” She swallowed. “I have a confession to make.”

  The story spilled out in fits. Janelle had to back up several times to give her mother the full context. She used Olivia’s name as a proxy for Trent, neatly erasing him from her story. He was hers alone besides which giving her mom one heart attack was enough stress for the day. Pulling the driveway, her mother was ashen.

  “Janie, honey. I wish you�
�d told us. I wish you’d come to me for help before flying off to do something so dangerous. What if he’d assaulted you? Or killed you?”

  “I’ve thought the same thing a million times.”

  “Go unpack and relax. You didn’t get into this pickle overnight, and you won’t get out overnight, either.” She paused. “I’m pouring a glass of wine. Do you want one?”

  “Thanks, Mom. For listening.” Even if her parents had been dismissive of her financial problems before, Janelle knew that half the reason had been her own bad attitude. She threw her clothes in the washing machine and set her toiletries on the bathroom counter. While the washer was working, Janie made herself a sandwich and ate it while printing out every account she had. Tomorrow she had to go back to the coffee shop and the warehouse, and this evening she needed the distraction from thinking about Trent.

  Two months ago, before she’d left with Marc, Alyssa had tried to make Janelle sit down and get a handle on her finances. Janie cringed to remember how she’d thrown up her hands in frustration and given up. It had seemed so hopeless. The debt was huge. She’d been so locked into the idea of paying it off that she’d been too scared to consider other options.

  Janelle wasn’t scared anymore.

  “You’re diving right in, I see.” Catherine pulled out a kitchen chair. She picked up a statement and released a slow whistle. “Janie, why didn’t you tell us how much student debt you had?”

  “I was ashamed, Mom. I told you it was a lot, but I was too scared to show you exactly how much it was.”

  Catherine placed her glasses on the wood table. “Janie, we wanted you to learn how to live as a responsible adult. If we were less than supportive, I’m sorry. Your dad and I weren’t planning to retire as early as we did, and I’ve been worried we’d run through our savings. I never want to be a burden on my children. The financial advisor told us it was better for our children to borrow for college because you can’t take out loans for retirement.”

  Janelle patted her mother’s hand, unsure how else to respond. All this time, she’d been jealous of her sister’s scholarship and success. Hitting the books a little harder might’ve won her a similar opportunity, but she wasn’t gifted in any specific area the way Alyssa was. At nineteen, she’d been convinced she was going to marry Ben. College had seemed only a formality. “You did the right thing, Mom. It would’ve been a waste. I was too scared of succeeding or, more likely, failing on my own.”