The Infamous Ellen James (Infamous Series)

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The Infamous Ellen James (Infamous Series) Page 13

by Alcorn, N. A.


  “Ow! Fucko! That hurt!” I yell back at her.

  “You deserved it!” She sticks her tongue out at me.

  “Girls! Settle down before I have to pull this truck over and spank both of your asses.” He grins wickedly at us.

  “Yes, please!” Amy and I say simultaneously, and this causes us to both to start giggling uncontrollably. She snorts, and I nearly piss my pants from hysterics. After we manage to calm ourselves down, I tell Amy I'm sorry for calling her a cum twat, even though it was quite obvious she deserved it. You heard her flirting with my man! She knows the rules, and I'm well aware she gets a kick out of getting me riled up.

  “Holy shit, Elle, isn't that Frank?” Amy is looking towards the sidewalk only a few blocks from our apartment.

  I squint my eyes, attempting to make out the disheveled man despite the bright sun filtering in through the windows. “Oh my god, yeah, that's definitely Frank.”

  “Who's Frank?” Trent asks as he puts his turn signal on to switch lanes.

  “He's a psych patient that frequents the ED all the time,” I tell him.

  “He's creepy. Super creepy,” Amy explains with wide eyes.

  “I don't like the idea of him walking around so close to your apartment. I get the positive side of being within walking distance of Regency, but I'd say this right here would definitely be a negative.” Trent squeezes my thigh and gives me a concerned look.

  “Let's not get all serious, now. I've got a buzz to keep.” I place my hand on Trent's and give him a reassuring smile.

  Trent's husky laugh fills the truck. “God forbid you lose your buzz, sweetheart.”

  “Labia face is right. No more creepy patient talk.” I give Amy a pointed look and she just responds with blowing me a kiss.

  She is such a sarcastic cunt.

  The drive to Centennial Golf Club is an hour from Charlotte, and Trent pulls over at a nearby gas station to fill up before we make the long trek. Amy nearly sprints inside to use the restroom, and I lean up against the bed of the truck to watch Trent pump gas. He swipes his credit card and sets the gas nozzle up to pump automatically before standing in front of me with a huge grin on his face.

  Grabbing my hips, he spins us around so his back is leaning up against the truck, and I'm standing between his legs. He pulls me in for a tight hug and kisses my forehead softly. I feel him brush my hair behind my ear.

  He whispers, “I missed you.” He presses his nose into my hair and inhales deeply. “I missed my little spitfire and her delicious strawberry shampoo.”

  Trent seems to be obsessed with the fact that my shampoo is strawberry scented, and honestly, I love that he notices something as simple as the scent of my hair products. It really proves just how sweet and thoughtful of a guy Trent Hamilton truly is. I hug him back tightly and nuzzle my face into his strong, muscular chest.

  “I missed you too, Casanova. I really missed you too.”

  Just being near this man puts a huge smile on my face. I probably look like I'm high off of Prozac, but I can't help myself. He just has that effect on me.

  “You're killing me in this skirt, sweetheart. Fucking killing me.” I feel him slide his hands down to my ass and give each cheek a squeeze. I giggle in response and tilt my chin up to look at him. His blue eyes shine down on me, and I'm lost in his stunning gaze. He leans down and kisses my lips softly, affectionately. The kiss is sweet and delicious, and it feels like home.

  Home? Oh man. I'm a lost cause.

  “Come on, dickheads! Enough dry humping! We've got places to be!” Amy yells as she opens the passenger door. I can't believe I was so lost in Trent's kiss that I didn't even notice Amy was already back from the bathroom. Trent smiles against my lips and gives my nose a small peck before I turn away and walk towards the passenger door of his truck. He pinches my ass and I squeal a little at his adorably crass behavior.

  We're about twenty minutes away from our final destination and I can't believe Trent hasn't strangled us yet. Amy and I have alternated playing DJ and completely monopolized his iPod. Our song choices have varied from Rihanna to Nine Inch Nails to Salt-N-Pepa. Our rendition of Closer by Nine Inch Nails could quite possibly make someone's ears bleed. Neither of us can sing worth a damn, but that doesn't stop us. Trent just seems to find us humorous and is content with just holding my hand in his lap as we cruise down the highway.

  How much longer can I deny the fact that I'm in love with this man?

  “Okay, Destiny's Child, let's take an intermission for a minute here.” Trent takes the iPod from my hands and turns down the music. “So how often do you two golf?” He asks us with a questioning gaze. Amy and I immediately start laughing, and Trent raises both eyebrows at our reaction to his question.

  “Um, well…We don't really golf…at all,” I answer with slight hesitation.

  Amy laughs at me and says, “Yeah, we blow donkey dick at golf. It's a miracle they asked us back after last year.”

  Oh, here we go…

  “Last year? I have to hear this story,” Trent says before he takes the exit for Centennial Road.

  “Ha! Oh. My. God. Last year, Elle hit the CEO in the back of the ass while she was attempting to practice her 'swing.'” Amy motions air quotes with her fingers.

  “Like you should talk, dick! You nearly drove the golf cart into the pond!”

  She really did almost sink one of the club's golf carts on hole twelve. Her lack of driving skills is still a mystery to me.

  “Hey! It wasn't my fault the brakes went out! I was lucky I came out of that alive!” Amy shouts back at me.

  “The brakes did not go out. You pushed the gas instead of the brake and—”

  “Enough. Agree to disagree. I don't want to talk about this anymore.” Amy turns her head away from me and looks out the window. I can barely hold back my smile; she just makes it too damn easy.

  I glance over at Trent and he smirks at me, which causes my shoulders to shake with silent laughter. I can barely contain the giggles that want to spill out of my mouth. I tightly clamp my hand over my lips and try like hell to keep my amusement to myself.

  “I know you're over there quietly giggling like an idiot.” Amy spats as she continues to stare out the window.

  I wrap my arms around her shoulders and hug her tightly. “I'm sorry. Please don't be mad at me.” I give her my best pouty face and see the corners of her mouth turn up into a smile.

  “Alright, fucko. I forgive you.”

  We manage to make it to the golf course in record time, and Trent starts getting his golf clubs out of the bed of his truck. I notice that he not only pulls out one set of clubs but actually pulls out two more.

  “Three sets of golf clubs?” I look at him curiously.

  “Well, there are three of us, and I would have put money on the fact that you two didn't have clubs.” He raises his eyebrow mischievously at me as he signals for one of the club's workers to help carry our clubs in.

  An adorable young kid who isn't a day over eighteen heads towards us. He is all baby-faced and bright blond hair. If I were eighteen years old, I would be practically drooling over this little cutie.

  I notice Amy giving him a nice, long once-over. She's obviously satisfied with what she sees. I elbow her in the side so she'll pick her jaw up off of the ground.

  “Cut it out, pervy,” I sternly whisper to her.

  “Ow! That hurt!” she says far too loudly. Trent and Jailbait glance over at us with curious expressions.

  “She stubbed her toe. She's fine, just a little dramatic.”

  And for that comment I get a swift elbow to the tit.

  “God dammit!” I whisper through clenched teeth.

  Amy just grins back at me like an asshole. “Elle, I'm gonna go find Tony before we tee off. I'll meet you by the first hole.” Amy makes an obscene gesture with her fingers, indicating her dirty thoughts regarding any talk of holes.

  “All right, labia face, I'll see you in a few.” I give her a slight wave.


  "Peace out, cum twat!” Amy's voice is far too loud for a public charity function. I blush beet red from the intrigued stares that look my way, and Amy finds this every bit of hilarious.

  Trent makes arrangements for our clubs to be delivered to the first hole of the course, and I happen to notice him slip two one hundred-dollar bills into Jailbait's hand. The kid's smile is wide and he's more than appreciative of this generous gesture. I have a feeling we'll be seeing his face later. He'd be an idiot not to attempt to offer more services if Trent is going to tip him that well. Trent puts his arm around my shoulder and pulls me close as we walk into the clubhouse.

  “Hey, you. That was quite the generous tip you just handed that kid.” I kiss him on the cheek.

  “Ellie girl, I used to do that very same job when I was in high school. Every summer, my brother Josh and I would work our asses off being golf caddies and doing other odds and ends at the course. It's really hard work, and I am more than happy to make his life a little easier with extra cash flow.”

  God I love—I mean adore—this man.

  He could be such a pretentious dickhole with all that he's accomplishment, but Trent Hamilton is one of the kindest, most considerate guys I've ever met. He's completely selfless, and I just adore him.

  Yes, I'm completely head over heels in adoration for Trent Hamilton.

  As he smiles down at me with those big blue eyes that nearly leave my heart in my throat, I know that I'm falling hard and fast for Trent Hamilton, and I'm well aware that there isn't a damn thing I can do about it.

  “What's with the goofy grin?” He asks as he discreetly pinches my ass.

  I giggle and shake my head a little. “I'm not telling you. That is top secret information, Dr. Hamilton, and you are not privy to it at this moment. Maybe someday though.” I give him my sweetest smile and he abruptly stops to pull me in for a tight hug. My feet aren't even touching the ground as he crushes me to his chest, and I'm sure there are tons of people staring at our very public display of affection.

  He kisses the tip of my nose and says, “I would give my left nut to know what's going on inside that pretty little head of yours. But I can tell you, whatever you're feeling right now, I'm feeling it too.” He kisses me gently before slowly putting me back on my feet.

  I'm just standing in front of him, slightly shell-shocked at his little admission.

  Does he know that I'm pretty much in love with him?

  I place my hand on his cheek and smile at him. Our eyes meet and we seem to communicate so much feeling, so much emotion without even saying anything.

  Trent grabs my hand. “Come on, sweetheart. Let's go see what you can do with a club.” He flashes his pearly whites before leading us towards the check-in area for the charity function.

  We sign up, get our nametags, and make our way towards the course. Trent is stopped several times by some of Regency's higher-ups and successful physicians. He kindly introduces me to the ones I don't already know, and it doesn't go unnoticed that he continually uses the word girlfriend. I guess Trent Hamilton really does consider me his girlfriend. I know we've only been out on one official date, but I'm not complaining—not one bit. I'd give my left tit to be with Trent Hamilton forever.

  Did I just use the words forever and Trent Hamilton in the same sentence?

  Fuuuuuuuuck, I'm definitely a lost cause.

  This year's charity function is raising money to update Regency's oncology unit with new state-of-the-art equipment to assist our cancer patients in receiving some of the best treatments available. I'm really excited about this cause, and I found out from Trent that this cause hits very close to home. His mother is in remission from breast cancer. She's a survivor, and Trent is extremely proud of his mother's strength through her terrifying fight with cancer. Five years ago, she was diagnosed and had to go through several rounds of chemotherapy and radiation along with a total mastectomy of her right breast. The woman is a fighter, and I find myself hoping to have the opportunity to meet her someday.

  Our foursome includes yours truly, Trent, Amy, and a newer surgeon who specializes in orthopedics, Dr. James Williams. He's tall, with a broad, muscular chest, dirty blond hair, and green eyes that would make any woman swoon. He's kind of a dreamboat in the looks department, and I have a feeling that Amy is dying to get her fingers on him. James is extremely nice with a fantastically dry, sarcastic sense of humor that compliments Amy's ill-timed outbursts perfectly.

  This round of golf should be nothing but tremendously entertaining.

  Amy and I are sitting in the golf cart as James and Trent tee off. The mid-July air is practically melting my skin, and I relish in the nice shade the golf cart is providing. Why in the hell does Regency choose to do these big golf charity events in the middle of summer? The heat is downright blistering and I can already feel sweat dripping down the nape of my neck.

  Amy and I are staring unabashedly at Trent and James's tight asses and laughing despite ourselves. The two of us are savoring our ice-cold beers and an occasional swig of tequila from the flask she snuck into the event. We're on a one-way trip to Sauced-ville and I'm already feeling a little tipsy.

  “You're up, Ellie girl!” Trent calls over to me.

  “Good luck, idiot,” Amy tells me sarcastically as I strut towards Trent. I discreetly give her my favorite finger from behind my back before standing near Trent, ready to tee off.

  “Are you just going to sit there and stare at me while I make an ass of myself?” I'm attempting to practice my swing as Trent watches me with a face full of enjoyment.

  “I'll definitely be staring at your ass, crazy.” He waggles his eyebrows up and down like a complete weirdo.

  My weirdo.

  I stick my tongue out at him and he gives me serious, determined eyes. “Keep that tongue in your mouth unless you're planning on doing dirty things to me with it.”

  I roll my eyes and laugh at his obscene tongue gesture. “Stop it or else everyone at Regency is going to think we're kinky assholes!”

  “We are kinky assholes, babe. And I haven't even had the chance to get my cock inside that tight little pussy of yours yet.” I hear James choke out a laugh from behind me and I blush cherry red at the realization that he's heard our back-and-forth sexual banter.

  “Oh my god! You're incorrigible! And no more cock talk until we're somewhere where you can actually do all these things you've promised me.” I smirk at him before putting my ball down in preparation to tee off.

  I awkwardly swing my club and completely miss the ball on my first try.

  “Son of a bitch!”

  Trent laughs at my amateur display of terrible golf skills and attempts to help me with some "hands-on" assistance. He is standing behind me with his chest to my back, his hands over my hands, as I grasp my golf club. He's giving me step-by-step instructions of the proper way to hold a club and all I'm thinking about is him pressing his cock into my ass.

  “Are you even listening to me right now?” He whispers roughly into my ear.

  “Uh, no. I'm completely distracted by the close proximity of your dick,” I whisper back to him with my eyes closed. Trent grabs my hips and pulls me tighter against his body and I nearly shiver at the feel of him pressed hard against me.

  “This is distracting you?” I can hear a smile in his voice.

  “God dammit, Casanova. Now you're killing me.” He throws his head back in riotous laughter, which only causes him to press his pelvis into my ass even harder.

  “All right, Dr. Thrust Me. You have to stop this or I'll make you finger-bang me out here on the golf course in front of everyone.” Now Trent and James are both laughing at my absurd outburst about inappropriate public displays of affection.

  Trent steps back from me and instructs me to do my worst, which I do.

  “FOORRRRRRE!” All three of us yell as my ball heads towards a small group of spectators standing off to the side of the course.

  “Nice work, asshead!” Amy shouts from the golf
cart.

  “Come on out here and show us your spectacular golfing skills!” I roar back to her.

  Amy attempts her first round and, to my extreme satisfaction, screws up just as badly as I did. Trent and James are seriously in for it. Trent might be willingly cutting off his left nut just to put himself out of misery by the end of this.

  We continue on to the next several holes with James and Trent neck and neck. Surgeons are notoriously competitive, and I'm coming to find out that this even includes golf charity functions. Amy and I, on the other hand, are lucky if we keep the stupid ball on the course. We decide to take turns yelling, “Fore!” for each other, since it's become that much of an occurrence.

  I'm generally competitive and get extremely frustrated when I'm not doing well at something, but the combination of beer and tequila has made me completely carefree. I'm taking the fact that I blow ass at golf quite well, considering that I would normally be screaming profanities at this point in the game. Trent and James keep us laughing with hilarious sexual innuendos and highly inappropriate banter. Constantly.

  I think Amy may have met her match with James. He's sarcastic, hilarious, and as quick-witted as she is. They seem to be getting cozier together by the minute. As I head to tee off for the ninth hole, I notice James put his arm around Amy's shoulders and whisper something into her ear. She giggles loudly and can't contain the huge grin on her face. That's when I know he's got her. Whenever Amy starts giggling around a guy, she wants that guy. This is her tell, her little sign of approval when she is attracted to someone. No one else would probably pick up on it, but I know my Amy almost as well as I know myself, so I definitely do not miss it.

  "Are you going to tee off or just watch those two flirt with each other?" Trent asks with a smirk and a raised eyebrow.

  "You were noticing that too?" I set my ball on the tee and prepare to showcase my horrible swing.

  "I am, and honestly, I think they'd be perfect for each other."

  "Shhhhhhhh!" I whisper-yell to Trent as I prepare to tee off. "Can't you see the soon-to-be professional golfer preparing to stroke her ball into that pond over there?" I grin at him and then prove that professional and golfer will never be used in the same sentence to describe me.

 

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