by Carrie Lomax
“If I’d wanted safe, we’d never have met.” Janelle traced the painted rim of her plate with the tip of one finger.
“You’ve boxed me in. I can’t stay away, knowing you’re right across the hall. Distance was the only barrier I had. You’ve taken away the decision.”
The selfishness of her move hit her with sickening force. Though she hadn’t meant to, she’d forced his hand exactly the way she’d done with Ben. Janelle dropped her fork. “You can always ignore me.”
Wait. Trent’s responsible for how he reacts. He hasn’t left you alone since you arrived, either. You eliminated the distance problem without asking him, true, but he’s the one who walked the last yard into your apartment.
“You first,” he grumbled, the first acknowledgement he’d given her that this wasn’t completely one-sided.
Yeah, that was going to work. They’d been crackling with chemistry since the minute they’d met. Still, she called his bluff.
“All right. I’ll leave you alone, if that’s what you want. I wish I could tell you I’m sorry, Trent. I can’t. If I’d talked to you about it, asked permission, you’d never have given me a chance. I’m here, and I’m staying so I can figure out how to crush this business development thing. The New York pitch gave me a taste of success, and I don’t need your approval to go after more. What you do about my presence for the next few weeks is up to you.” Janelle shoved back her chair and removed both plates, mostly uneaten. She put the leftovers in containers and began cleaning up in the kitchen.
Trent stood up and walked out the door.
Well. She had her answer.
Janelle slammed the dishes into the dishwasher. Her eyes hurt. Her heart ached. She’d gambled and lost. She pulled the apron over her head, rolled it into a ball and slammed it into a drawer.
The buzzer rang so loud she almost screamed, followed by a pounded fist. “Janie. Open up.”
She swung it open, angry words dying on her lips. He propped up a heavy mattress with his broad shoulders.
“You don’t have a bed,” he observed.
Janelle gaped. “I—the couch pulls out.”
Trent pushed passed her. “I’m not sleeping on a couch for the next seven weeks. Where can I put this?”
15
Janelle gaped at him as if Trent had lost his mind. Maybe he had. He’d meant it when he said he was tired of resisting. This woman was pure, high-grade temptation. He was done holding back, and there was going to be a proper platform for everything he planned to do with her for the next seven weeks.
“You’re moving in? Just like that?” Her green gaze was luminous as she searched his. Trent’s heart squeezed, the pressure of her expectation tectonic.
“I don’t want you wandering around my apartment with my staff there, and I’m not sleeping on a couch for seven weeks.” It was the only practical solution. “You want to play house, let’s play house. Unless you don’t want me here.”
Her expression shuttered momentarily. Then a wide grin spread over her lips, her even white teeth above pink lips. “This is better than I’d hoped.”
Janelle’s pink nails dug into the fabric of the mattress as she tried to pull it into the room. Trent brushed her away and hauled it inside. Janie bent over to shove the chair out of the way, giving him a good view up her skirt. It stopped just short of the main attraction.
Trent leaned the mattress against the wall.
Janelle advanced toward him. Late evening light filtered through the high windows and glinted off her hair, streaking it with red and purple, the colors of sunset. His breath caught, and an unfamiliar feeling swept through him. Whatever it was—happiness was too much to ask—her determination to have him was glorious.
Who could resist her?
Not him. Few men would’ve stood a chance, and his moral compass pointed every which direction but north. And yet, nothing had changed. Penny was still an anchor in his life. Janelle had a jealous streak, and the last thing she needed was his shitty life decisions holding her back when she was trying to make a leap forward.
Janelle didn’t appear to care about any of it. She ran her hands over his chest, backing him against the bed. “Thank you.”
Her lips were soft, her breath warm, her body tensile and yielding as Trent pulled her hard against him. “For what?”
“Giving me a chance.”
Self-loathing popped the air out of his joy bubble. Yeah, they’d spend the next few weeks reliving their Vegas hotel sex, but when their time was up, Trent knew he’d walk away again. Janie was too much, too close to everything he’d ever wanted, too perfect, and now she had unfulfilled ambition that might take her anywhere. Letting himself care about her and then losing her would pulverize every remaining shard of his heart. He couldn’t protect himself and give Janie the love she wanted. He couldn’t protect her anymore. All he could do was delay the moment of reckoning and try to enjoy the ride. The final drop was bound to be vomit-inducing for both of them.
Janelle’s fingers worked his jeans open and sprung his cock free. Trent’s butt pressed against the mattress as she licked the tip. He couldn’t say no. He didn’t want to. He wanted to say yes until he was hoarse and spent and they were so tangled together they couldn’t be undone. He couldn’t do that to her, any more than he could abandon Penny.
Her jaw loosened, sucking him deeper. The mischief in her eyes as she looked up almost made him come. He thrust into her mouth. Janelle pushed forward to meet him, and Trent dug his fingers into the silk of her hair until her lips almost touched his balls.
She popped off and grinned up at him. “I’m going to do this every day.”
Then she went back to work, until Trent was forced pull out.
“Easy, Janie. We have all evening.”
She sat back on her knees, still fully dressed, her expression both innocent and utterly debauched. “It’s been weeks.”
Damn the consequences, there was no stopping this.
Janelle pulled his jeans down over his hips, past his knees, and kicked them aside. She rose and tugged his shirt up, though she remained fully clothed. Trent suspected there was a very nice surprise beneath that swishy skirt. The lace top was sexy enough, sheer enough to see the outline of her bra but otherwise covering her from neck to elbow. Combined with the apron she’d worn to cook dinner, Trent had been fighting a hard-on since he’d arrived.
Naked, he pulled her close. The rough texture her shirt scratched over his chest. Janelle wound one arm around the back of his neck. He tasted himself on her lips as he cupped one hand around the sweet curve of her ass. She hopped up. Trent swiveled and pressed her into the mattress as it tried to sag away from the wall. His hips flexed and his heart rate kicked up as Janie sank her teeth into his lower lip.
“I’m not sorry I came here.” She gasped as he nibbled his way across her jaw, tasting the smoothness of her skin with his tongue. Janelle locked her legs around his waist. Trent shoved her skirt up, the rough tips of his fingers following soft skin all the way to her crevice. Her breath was hot against his skin as she moaned.
“You will be.” But not yet. Not now. He traced the curve to her center and found nothing, no barrier. An animal groan tore out of him.
“Inside me, Trent.”
It would be so easy. I can't do this to her. He couldn’t not do this with her, either.
“Condoms,” he bit out.
Janie wriggled out of his arms. On the floor, she yanked open the drawer of the small table next to the bed. Trent braced the mattress against the wall.
“Come here.” She tossed her shirt over her head. Her hair was a mess, sticking up every direction. Her bra was sheer and embroidered. Trent’s balls tightened harder. Closing the distance was almost painful. Tugging one off in the shower every morning and again at night hadn’t done more than take the edge off his need for her.
She tore the foil open with her teeth and rolled it over him, one leg tucked up under her wrinkled skirt, the bra barely containing her
amazing breasts. The rough texture of her shirt over his chest had been so good. No wonder she ground against him when he teased her through the fabric of her bra.
Janelle lay back on the couch. One elegant foot was propped on the arm, the other leg dangling off the side, and her hair splayed out over the cushion. Her pale pink fingernails curled into the dark fabric, working it up over her tan thighs.
“Janie,” he pleaded.
Her full pink lips twitched as she smiled. “Make me sorry, Trent.”
She didn’t believe him. Trent knelt between her legs, her sex glistening in the lamplight.
“Not tonight, Janie. I meant it. I’m done fighting.”
He teased her with the head of his dick. Janie squirmed, pushing herself up on one elbow trying to get enough leverage to slide over him. Trent’s thighs were on fire holding back from the pounding he desperately wanted to give her, but he laughed. She growled.
“Are you sorry yet?”
“I’ll never be sorry.”
She leveraged her hips as his head tipped into her glistening folds. Trent grunted, pulling back. Bliss was a thrust away. He slid two fingers inside her to the third knuckled and crooked them against the rough spot. Trent gave her just enough pressure to make her squirm and cry out, long neck arched. Not enough to satisfy.
“Sorry yet?”
“You’re still fighting.”
Janie’s green eyes glittered with frustration. There was no better sight. It made him harder than he’d ever been, his dick straight out, balls tight. That was why he was drawing this out. Once he got inside her, it wasn’t going to take more than a few thrusts to blow.
“Say you’re sorry and I’ll let you come.”
“I’ll never be sorry,” she said again, but he heard the desperation.
“Never?”
He circled his thumb over her clit, too gently. Her teeth captured her lower lip and she arched against his hand.
“Maybe a little.”
“Say it out loud.”
“I’m sorry I cornered you,” she whimpered. Trent slid three fingers inside her this time, stroking the sensitive spot as he pressed the pad of his thumb over her clit. When her expression softened and the pulse throbbing along her elegant neck evened out, Trent pushed her knee against the back of the couch and pressed his cock into her with a smooth motion.
Janelle clutched his arm and moaned. Lost as he was in the sensation of her tight, wet body, Trent still remembered to help her out with his fingers. The orgasm reverberated up his spine like a shockwave. Janelle arched her back, meeting him with a wild moan. Not completely in sync but close enough. He didn’t deflate right away. Trent kept going for a few extra thrusts to make sure his woman was cared for.
His woman.
For a few weeks.
“Now I’m especially not sorry I cornered you,” Janelle snuggled against him. She would be, though. Janelle deserved better than anything he had to offer. Maybe proximity with his damaged self would help her arrive at that conclusion on her own.
There was a whoosh of air, a thump and a crash, and darkness all at once. Trent dove down onto the couch, covering Janelle with his naked body. His heart hammered. At first he thought she was crying, so he stroked her hair with his free hand.
“Are you all right?”
She let loose with a whoop of laughter. “The mattress fell down. I think it hit the cord of the lamp and pulled it off the table. We should finish moving you in so there’s a place to get it on without breaking things.”
And they did. After which Trent made her say she was sorry again, several more times. And again, in the morning, for good measure.
* * *
“My parents are visiting next weekend.”
“Is that right.” Trent wound his arm tighter around her waist until Janelle’s body was pressed hard against his, her hair sticking to his shoulder where her head was tucked against his neck.
“Can we stay in your apartment for the weekend, so they can sleep here?”
The windowless bedroom had been transformed into an office to accommodate his growing team, but lately he and Janie had been working together in the studio. On days when she was at Olivia’s office, he had all the space he needed, but with Janie was around it quickly became a competition—one they usually resolved through midday sex. Four weeks of near-constant intimacy hadn’t diminished their need for physical connection.
“You should stay here. I’ll sleep across the hall.” Trent kissed her forehead.
Janelle turned to him with a full-on pout. “My dad snores. Besides, I don’t want to hide you.”
Trent pulled his arm out from under her and padded to the bathroom. “You want your parents to meet the ex-poker-pro porn star you’re fucking? I don’t think so, Janie.”
Hot water sluiced over his body. The bathroom door slammed open. Two seconds later, Janelle yanked on the shower door.
“I want you to meet my family.”
Trent knew that uncompromising glint. Under other circumstances, he adored it. “You’re letting out the steam.”
She closed the door behind her, eyes narrowed with irritation. Janie had a wonderful habit of barging in on his showers, which usually resulted in her practicing phenomenal oral skills on him. Not a bad way to start the day.
“If you want me to suck your cock ever again, you’ll come to dinner with me and my parents.”
Trent laughed. “And then what? They google me and find out who you’re hooking up with?”
Janie stood back against the shower wall, her tan body sprayed with droplets. “I wish you’d stop being self-conscious about the video. It happened. Nobody cares.”
“I care.”
“Trent. Look at me.”
He didn’t. As no blowjob was forthcoming, he washed his hair and soaped his body, hogging the water. She was the one who’d crashed his shower. Let Janie be cold.
“Everyone knows about it. Your staff. Olivia. Nobody cares. Who do you think you’re hiding from? People like that woman at the conference who grabbed your butt?”
Myself.
“I’ll risk no more oral sex.” Janie loved it as much as he did, as she’d declared only an hour ago. I love your cock in my mouth had been her exact words. As if he was going to resist when she caved.
“Your call.” Janelle stepped into the spray and began washing her body, lingering over all the good bits. There weren’t any not-good bits where she was concerned. Janie was the total package.
But if she thought she was going to pull some Lysistrata shit on him, she was out of her mind. Her parents didn’t need to know Trent Mason, former professional gambler, whose erect dick was available for anyone with Internet access to see plowing another woman’s pussy, was currently screwing their daughter multiple times a day.
How could she think this was a good idea? Any of it? Sleeping together, shacking up. Meeting her family was out of the question.
She showered quickly while he toweled off, spending a little extra time on his erection since he knew Janie was watching even as she fumed. True to form, Janelle popped out and knelt on the bath mat.
“Empty threats,” he taunted.
Janelle beamed slyly as she ran her tongue up his length. “Not empty. I thought of a better way to persuade you.”
“Oh?”
Trent went from hard to bursting as Janelle massaged his balls. She then moved lower, finding the sensitive spot between his sack and his anus. She popped off long enough to give him a cocky grin and ask, “Do you like this?”
He responded with an incoherent grunt and dug his fingers through the slippery strands of her wet hair to pull her back into place. Janelle worked the puckered rim before edging her finger inside. Trent stiffened at the intrusion.
“Do you want me to stop?”
“Keep going,” he managed through gritted teeth. Janie didn’t fight fair.
She worked a second finger into his butt. That alone would’ve been amazing, but she kept going until sh
e found the sensitive spot about two inches in. Janelle worked the lump, each stroke sending waves of pleasure through his pelvis. Trent gripped the towel holder in a desperate bid to remain standing. Janelle sucked and stroked and massaged until his entire body turned to jelly.
The orgasm reduced Trent to mindless gasps. His ass hit the edge of the bathroom counter as Janelle pulled off and stroked him rhythmically. There cracking sound, and the towel bar gave way in his hand. Trent came like a volcano, jizz landing everywhere. The sheer quantity of it was almost disturbing. A splotch had hit the wall, another gush spread across the floor. Smaller puddles had hit the shower door and the toilet seat.
Trent’s legs threatened to fail. Janelle pushed his chest and he fell back against the cold counter for support, her expression torn between triumph and concern. “You okay?”
“Holy shit,” he mumbled.
Janelle’s eyebrows were two astonished arcs. “It looks like a poltergeist exploded in here.”
Trent summoned enough energy to laugh. His entire body felt amazing, like he was glowing from the inside out.
“So you’ll meet my parents?” Janie smirked.
“Sure, sweetie. Whatever you want.”
Janelle kissed him softly and held up the broken plastic. “We have to fix this before they get here.”
“On it.” He hauled himself up.
* * *
“I’m not sure about your new boyfriend.” Janelle’s father relaxed into the sofa, stretching his feet. They’d walked half of D.C. that morning, visiting two Smithsonian museums and the Washington Monument before taking Metro back to Alexandria.
“You’ve met him for all of fifteen minutes,” chided her mother, who’d collapsed into the side chair.
“Cathy, Trent didn’t even want to tell us his name. Are you certain about him, Janie?”
“I’m sure.” Janelle forced her jaw to relax before she cracked a molar. She wasn’t, not at all. In her head, this was supposed to be easy: Trent would adore her retired teacher mom and engineer dad, with their offbeat sense of humor and rock-solid affection for one another. It would be utterly banal. If Trent could see himself as normal, one half of an unexceptional couple, he’d begin to see the future they could have together.