“Where did you get the idea of putting food in the jars from?” Trent asked, unscrewing the caps
“Something I saw on the food network channel,” she said. “I found the recipes there too.”
He passed her a fork and they began to enjoy the meal. “I’m glad that one of us knows how to cook. We were in and out of shelters so much, I barely learned how to scramble eggs. I don’t think I would’ve been much of a cook anyway. Even before my mom left, we were living on cheerios, hotdogs, and spaghetti.”
“I bet you can make a mean spaghetti and meatballs though,” she said.
He smiled. “Now that…I can do. You still know me very well.”
“Of course. I hope so, at least.”
“What else do you want to know? Our agreement still stands. You can ask me whatever you want?” he asked.
She stirred the salad around in the mason jar and ate some of it. “I’ve learned bits and pieces of how you came to be initiated into Rugged through Marcus, but how did you really meet him?”
“Hmmm.” Trent crunched on his salad. “I can’t believe I haven’t told you this yet.”
“Well things happened quickly when that scandal leaked.” Zaira shook her head. She didn’t want to talk about that right now. “And that’s because we picked each other’s brains all the time for other things.”
“How could I forget that you loved picking brains? You could be a lawyer, you know.”
“That’s what my dad wanted,” she said.
“Fathers always want what’s best for their daughters.”
Zaira stretched her legs outward on the blanket. “True…so about you and Marcus…how did you meet him?”
“At a car and bike show that I was working at. I had just gotten thrown out of my apartment at the time. Apparently my dad had put all of our money up in a bet. The entire checking account and all of our savings. He lost and didn’t tell me. I thought the rent was being paid—it wasn’t. By the time I found out, the account was clean except for the negative balance.”
“That’s awful.” Her lips parted in shock. “But you were living on your own in high school, weren’t you?”
“Basically. My dad never stayed put because he was all over the country gambling. Because I had to attend school, I needed an address and had to stay somewhere.”
“So you got kicked out of your apartment?”
He nodded. “And lost almost everything we owned when they evicted us.”
“You said the last time you slept on the streets was in middle school. So where did you stay?” she asked.
“I had full intentions of taking what I made subbing in at the car and bike show to pay for a few nights at a hotel. My next big betting round wasn’t for another couple weeks or so. Someone or something must have been looking out for me that day because I met Marcus. He’d just moved out of his parents home and was renting a two bedroom pad near the Virginia Tech campus.”
She nodded. “Isn’t that where Marcus earned the full scholarship?”
“Yep,” he confirmed.
Zaira put down her food jar and scooted closer to Trent in Indian-style fashion. “And that’s where you studied. Right?”
Trent nodded. “I could have enrolled anytime I wanted, but I kind of got used to getting into Marcus’s books and lecture notes. I guess I was discouraged because my mom once told me that I wasn’t good enough for the big universities.”
“Look what came of it. You are the exception and you’re smarter than anyone I know. You don’t need college smarts…you’ve got book smarts and street smarts.”
Trent smiled. “You have a way with your words. They make me feel good inside.”
Zaira took his hand in hers. “So you and Marcus were already Rugged members when you became good friends?”
“Yeah, but that’s only the gist of how Marcus and I came to be so close. I’ve never told you that I met Sean before Marcus, have I?”
She wrinkled her nose and shook her head. “Sean? Do you mean Marcus’s youngest brother?”
He nodded. “Sean had been a member of R.R. long before Marcus and I. I had to stay put so my dad wouldn’t go to jail for not having me enrolled in school, but I still gambled. I was on the verge of getting my first big win when I met Sean at a race, but I didn’t know it yet…of course.”
“I hardly know Sean. He comes to one maybe two events a year and says maybe one or two things. And leaves. What’s with that?”
Trent scooped up the rest of his salad. “He’s just going through a hard time right now, but he was always the silent type anyway. Rebellious and independent.”
“Then he’s like Marcus to the tenth power,” she offered.
“Exactly. He goes after what he wants, but for the rest of the time he keeps a low-key profile. After the accident, he calmed down a bit though.” He screwed the cap back on the empty salad jar and reached for the canteen of water. “Sean races cars and bikes for a living and I met him right before one of his competitions. I’d never bet on races before that day. I was mainly into gambling, the act itself…not betting on someone else. I felt lucky that day. Sean ended up winning and I cashed in big. Every time I bet on him, he never lost. I had the courage to jump the security fence at a practice one day to meet him and ask for his autograph. He invited me out to have a beer and the rest…well you know the rest.”
“Interesting.” She opened up the desert jars and handed one to him.
“My turn,” he said.
“Okay.”
“Why’d you turn down your dad’s offer to lead his accounting department?”
She sighed. “I want to pave my own way to the top. Kind of like how you did it. I don’t believe in hand outs.”
“Fair enough. Where do you want to be five years from now?”
“Owning my own firm,” she said.
“Very ambitious. Sometimes you need a little help though. A bit of push in the right direction. It’s okay to accept help,” he said. “By the way, this lunch is really hitting the spot. I can eat this all day.”
Zaira blushed. “Why thank you.”
They talked like that all afternoon until the clouds darkened and the sun same down to meet the city horizon.
Chapter Twelve
“I like your pad,” Zaira said, tracing her fingers along the back of the leather couch taking in the interior of his home. “Everything looks…like a man lives here.”
“Yeah, I’m not sure if that’s a compliment or what.” He chuckled. “Make yourself at home.”
Zaira shrugged out of Trent’s leather coat and laid it out on top of the sofa. She pulled the band out of her hair and redid her ponytail. Her tresses were still slightly damp from the light dusting of rain they got caught in on the way here. Sitting on the couch, she peeled off her damp socks and then her top.
Trent came around the corner with a towel and grinned as he handed it out to her.
“What?” she asked when he didn’t say anything. “It’s a sports bra. Plus, you’ve seen me naked before.”
“You’re not exactly naked…yet” He plopped down on the couch beside her, bend down and pressed a kiss onto her shoulder.
“Mmmm.” She moaned as his lips and tongue made a trail up her neck. Dragging her fingers through his hair, she brought his mouth against hers.
He tasted of strawberry shortcake and fresh night air. She hungered for him like she always did before, but never partook. Now she would…even with the consequences.
Zaira pulled from the kiss and stood up.
“Wait…what now,” he said, holding onto her hand.
“Take off your shirt. Now.” She began unzipping her own jeans and sliding them down her legs.
“Now you’re talking,” he groaned, as he peeled off shirt and tossed it aside.
Just as she began to take off her panties, Trent stopped her. He placed his hands over hers and scooted to the edge of the couch.
“Allow me,” he whispered against her belly.
“Trent…
” Her breath hitched in her throat as he pressed his lips over and over again to the intimate spot between her belly button and sex.
He pleased her that way through her panties, driving her insane. Her legs trembled as he licked at her mound between the lace.
“You’re sweet, Zaira.”
“Am I?” She grabbed a handful of his silky dark hair.
“Mmhmm….delicious.” Hooking his finger between a slit in the lacy fabric, he pulled until her undies were ripped into two.
She lifted her foot onto the sofa next to him. “That was one of my favorite pairs.”
“Then I’ll have to remedy that.” He kissed the inside of her elevated thigh.
Zaira cried out the moment he tongued her sex, sliding it deep within her. He pleased her with his mouth, taking his time, and slowly devouring her. He teased her clit until her entire body began to spasm intensely. Her orgasm spiraled through her like a storm and her toe curled against the area rug beneath her foot. The other toe gripped the pillow of the slick leather chair.
After the intensity of her climax, her knees gave out and she ended up on the floor in front of him. She coaxed him out of his jeans to discover he was hard as a rock already. Trent opened a condom wrapper, preparing to sheath his cock, but she stopped him. She wrapped her fingers around his thick flesh and took his cock into her mouth.
He groaned and almost bucked off the chair as she sucked him deep down her throat. She pumped and sucked, alternating between both, causing his veins to pulse with excitement against her palm.
“Oh, yeah…” Trent watched, locking gazes with hers.
He tasted good and Zaira loved pleasing him. When he began gripping the edge of the couch begging for mercy, she gave none.
“I need you now, Zaira.”
She settled for licking up and down his shaft as he prepared the condom. When their protection was in place, she straddled him. “You’re a big man, Trent.” She positioned herself over him and slowly slid her pussy on his cock.
“You’re a sexy woman.” His mouth was all over skin, breasts, and nipples.
Zaira rode him as he encouraged her with the firm grip on her hips. Their union felt magical and she lost herself in the moment. He lifted her up and led her, back first, to the couch cushions.
Trent thrust into her with a strong tempo, holding her thighs up and around him. She couldn’t get enough of him and lifted her hips to meet his. She couldn’t stop touching him, kissing him.
“Look at me, Zaira…”
She met his gaze and saw the brutal concentration on his forehead and the beads of sweat peppering his forehead and temples.
“Trent…”
“I care about you so much. I…”
Zaira kissed him. The feelings were mutual and she shared them. But there was no way she’d let him walk away with her heart.
“Let’s just embrace now,” she said.
He slipped his hand under her ass, elevating her, and took her harder and deeper.
“Is that all you got?” She panted. “Fuck me harder.”
Trent’s eyes sparked with surprised and he grinned. “Oh,” he breathed. “I aim to please.”
His aggression sent her straight into an intense climax. The sensations kept flowing as he kept pumping into her. Before long, he joined her in completion. Even when it was all over, they remained joined together, the heat of their union still floating around them like a cloud.
Trent laid his head against her heart and held her close.
Zaira couldn’t remember the last time anyone had ever held her that close for that long.
Trent’s bedroom was dark except for a single bedside lamp on the king-sized bed. Although there was little light in the room, Zaira managed to see Trent’s handsome face. He was lying on his back, palms folded behind his head, and eyes closed as he listened to the soft R&B music that flowed through the speakers in his room. She lay next to him, letting the smooth tunes relax her as she traced the numerous designs on his chest.
Neither of them had any clothes on. After what was their second round of rough sex, they were both restless—or at least she was.
Zaira slipped her leg over his thighs and let her cheek grace the area on his chest above his heart. “Trent, what really happened to us?”
“I’ve been thinking about that a lot, Zaira, but…the truth is I’m happy where we are now. We share a friendship in the past, but this right here is what I’ve always wanted.”
“I know, but I’ve got to know, Trent. I can’t keep thinking about this,” she said. “I just need to know and I want the God honest truth from you.”
“Okay.” He ran his palm down her hair.
“You’ve showed me a whole other side of you. Don’t get me wrong though. I enjoyed being with you when we could talk about bad dates, sex positions, and the current state of the economy. We’ve shifted gears here a little…well a lot. And I feel I understand you more.”
“That has always been my attention—to open up to you more even though it hurts to think about where I was ten years ago,” he said.
“It’s one thing to sugar coat your circumstances, but it’s another to intentional hold back these things. Why couldn’t you have opened up sooner?”
“Honestly. I thought you would laugh at me.”
She exhaled. “For what?”
Trent sighed. “I wasn’t exactly born into money, Zaira. I don’t give a shit about that either. What I did see was someone whose father wanted her to marry into a rich family…kind of like Marcus’s.”
“Come on…how could you come to that conclusion? Have you ever known me to do what my Dad says?”
He chuckled. “No.”
“Then why didn’t you try to date me back then before that scandal happened?”
Trent turned on his side so that they were laying side by side, staring into each other’s eyes. “If you can’t remember, you’re not exactly the type to stay unattached for long. Don’t you recall all those dinner dates your father set you up on with his business colleagues? You were happy testing the waters and you even told me you were.”
“I did, didn’t I?” Zaira ran her fingers against the dark silky hair on his chest. "You were so nice and honest when you gave me advice about men and how to please them and not get on their last nerves and make them happy…"
“..and I didn’t want to get in the way of your happiness.”
“Did it ever come across your mind that I would be happy with you?” she asked.
There was a long silence before Trent answered her.
“I’ve traveled through life pretty quickly and I think of it like a game of poker. There’s an element of risk. A man could be dealt what he thinks is the best hand at the table, but still only have a fifty percent chance at winning the game. Sometimes you have to know when to fold and likewise…when to raise.”
“So, what does that mean, Trent? Put it in layman’s terms for me,” she asked.
“I’ve never had any serious relationships. Women are complicated and sometimes I can’t even begin to understand their motivations. I’ve never wanted to permanently be with anyone except you. I don’t know how to be a husband. I don't know what it's like to have a wife or mother figure in the home. All I know how to do is make ten dollars out of ten cents, apparently. While that is great, unfortunately, that doesn’t get me a woman for all the right reasons. Do you understand?”
Zaira swallowed and sighed. “Yeah, I get it.”
“You asked me about the married woman connected to me,” he said. “That scandal blew my reputation up, but of course, I didn’t have a pretty one anyway. I stopped gambling for a long time after that.”
Her heart literally cringed every time she thought about the day she learned of the scandal, most of it through the grapevine.
“I liked you a lot,” she said. “More than I let on. After finding out you’d broken up a marriage, I just couldn’t…look at you anymore.”
“You couldn’t even ask me the hon
est truth like you’re doing now?” His gray eyes sparked bright. “You just accepted what everyone else told you?”
“That was foolish. I know,” she said. “But the fact is that a marriage ended and you were involved. What really happened, Trent?”
“I get into the most trouble when I gamble, so naturally it all started with a game of poker. It was his own fault that he raised so high. One would think since he was the owner of a dozen country clubs and golf courses, he should be able to pay his debts. He racked up a huge debt that night on the card table, but I won, collected my cash, and went on about my business.”
“Jackson was his name,” Zaira added. “My dad has played on one of his courses before.”
“Yes, the last name was Jackson,” Trent confirmed. “So to my surprise, a week later, this Jackson found out where I lived and where I worked. Turns out he had friends in high places and I lost my job at the time.”
She lifted her head slightly when the information jogged her memory. “I remember when that happened and when you told me. I found it strange to that you were only at the company for a few weeks. You said you resigned, though.”
Trent nodded. “They had no legal grounds to fire me but after that I wasn’t about to work there.”
“Right. I wouldn’t have either.”
“Jackson obviously had a grudge and he wanted to get back at me…and he did. I thought it was over. But then he sent his new bride to beg me for the money back.”
“Oh…?” She had not heard this side of the story.
“I believed her when she said Jackson had made a mistake that night in playing with professionals. I thought it was a joke. I actually laughed. What man would send his wife to ask the opponent he lost to for his money back?”
“He could have came over himself,” Zaira agreed.
“Exactly. I made no physical threats after being forced to resign so I couldn’t imagine why Jackson wouldn’t just admit his mistakes anyway. I told his wife to send her husband to see me. A few days went by and nothing happened so I went back to the country club where I won the money and asked for Jackson’s contact information. They handed me an old business card and that’s when they informed me that the place had gone into foreclosure. By that time, I had every intention of giving the money back. People run into hard times and take drastic measures. I come from that lifestyle, so I understood.”
Abducted by the Mountain Man Page 16