When Love Comes Around

by Nikki Vale

  **********

  Waking enveloped in masculine-scented warmth, I feel like I’ve had the best sleep of my life. Attempting to raise my arms to stretch, I realize I’m trapped in Trevor’s embrace. My movement causes him to groan, snuggle closer, and tighten his grip around my waist. His morning wood is pressed perfectly into the crack of my ass, and I can’t fight the urge to push back into him, rubbing up and down.

  “Mmm.” He moans and slides his hand up under my tank top, palming my breast. He lightly teases the sensitive puckered tip with his roughened fingertips. The magic of his touch shoots straight to my core, causing a delicious ache. “I could wake up like this forever.”

  Instead of his words scaring me − like I know they should − they have the opposite effect, heightening my growing arousal. Trevor removes his hand from under my shirt, gently sweeps my hair out of his way, placing tender kisses on my shoulder and neck. His hand finds its way back underneath my shirt, but this time, it skims along my trembling stomach descending in the opposite direction.

  My breathing becomes shallow as I wait with delicious anticipation. Sucking in a breath, I bite my lower lip as his fingers skim over my navel, into my panties and onto to my bare mons. My entire body quivers when his roaming hands reach their destination, tracing the slick slit of my pussy. I want him to penetrate me with those long elegant fingers of his, and I lift my hips to meet his teasing touch, letting him know without words what I desire.

  To my delight, Trevor immediately responds to my silent cues, sliding two fingers easily into my dripping warmth. I can’t contain the sigh of pleasure the escapes my lips as he slowly inserts and retracts his fingers, all while still kissing and licking my neck. Closing my eyes, I let myself get lost in the rhythm as a deep ache bins to bud in my womb. This feeling is intoxicating. I’ve never had a man bring me to orgasm, and I’m not expecting Trevor to be the first.

  The ache is growing stronger, and I push my hips into Trevor’s fingers, meeting his thrusts. I can’t help but to try and reach that pinnacle that I know I can reach on my own. My frustration starts to block my pleasure until I feel Trevor’s thumb brush against the tightened bud of my clit.

  “Relax, baby girl. Let me pleasure you.” His words, mixed with the constant pressure of his stroking thumb, cause the desire to return tenfold. My hips are frantically fucking his fingers, grasping at that pinnacle of pleasure. My nipples begin to tingle, and I feel a sharp tug in my very center before swiftly exploding into rapture.

  “Oh shit!” I yell out as my body trembles in release. Trevor’s hand is still slowly gliding in and out of me, milking the longest orgasm I’ve ever experienced. I can feel the smile on his lips as he places a few more whisper soft kisses on my neck. I’m immersed in a foggy euphoric state, but I can still feel his erection pressed against my ass and a new wave of desire washes over me. Reaching behind me I run my hand over his boxer-briefs, tracing the length of his hard cock.

  “Megan, are you up yet?” I hear Gina asking from the other side of my bedroom door. I could swear I hear Trevor breathe a sigh of relief, but I must be mistaken.

  “Yeah, just give me a few minutes,” I answer her. I guess she learned her lesson about barging into my room without an invitation.

  “You can get ready first. I’m just going to lay here for a few more minutes,” I tell Trevor.

  “Are you sure?” he asks as he climbs out of the bed.

  “Go for it,” I reassure him.

  Trevor gathers up his clothes and heads into my master bathroom, closing the door behind him. I have dual motives for letting him take his shower first. First off, my bones feel like jelly after that miraculous orgasm. Secondly, I need a little time to think.

  Trevor being able to get me off like that just might be a game changer. I’ve always been able to bring myself to that happy place, but I’ve never had anyone else take me there. Sex is fun, and I enjoy it, but I think for me, it’s mostly been about being in control. The men I take to bed know I’m controlling so they automatically expect me to dominate them in the bedroom, and I happily oblige.

  But not Trevor.

  The terms of our bet state that Trevor controls when, what, and where things happen between us, leaving him in complete control. Knowing that I get off on control, I thought I was the sure winner of this bet between us. What exactly was the bet anyway? That he couldn’t handle me? That’s rather vague and stupid, now that I think about it.

  Honestly, I’ve wanted to sink my teeth into Trevor for eons. He only takes military leave for holidays and special occasions so I haven’t seen him all that much over the years, but when I did see him, the attraction was palpable. I’m not one to usually deny myself what I want – especially when to comes to men. Out of respect for my best friend, I’ve stayed away from her sexy ass brother. But can Evie really hold me accountable for jumping at the chance to make my fantasies come true when it was Trevor who initiated the challenge?

  Wait…or was it me that challenged him? Whatever. He accepted, and that’s all that matters.

  Evelynn already guessed that something was brewing between the two of us. She seemed okay with it when she confronted me on our way to see one of the wedding venues. I’m using the word, okay, lightly here. She seemed resigned to the fact that Trevor and I are going to hook up, like she was accepting it as fact because there’s nothing else she can do.

  Ugh. Now’s not the time for me to worry about Evie’s feelings. I’ve already dipped my toes into the fire, and it felt so good I’m ready to dive in head first. If it weren’t for this stupid bet allowing Trevor to set the pace of his seduction, I would have already had my fill of him and moved on.

  At least that’s what I’d like to tell myself. The low hum in the pit of my belly at the thought of his hands on my body says otherwise.

  Finally climbing out of the bed, I head over to the bathroom door. Just as I raise my hand to knock, Trevor opens it wearing only a towel draped loosely around his hips, showing off his Adonis belt. Drawing my eyes away from the mouthwatering sight, I look up into his light-brown, smiling eyes. This man is definitely a panty-dropper, and I’d be no exception – if I were wearing any.

  There’s no sign of emotion on Trevor’s face as he addresses me as if I were standing in front of him fully clothed – which I’m not.

  “You ready for your turn?” he asks. My body reacts instantaneously to the question before my mind processes the fact that he was referring to taking a shower. My facial features remain as calm as his, but when I follow his gaze to my hardened nipples, I realize my treacherous body has given away my secret. Trevor looks back up at me, this time with a knowing grin.

  “What? It’s chilly in here,” I lie.

  What is this man doing to me? I’m usually so much smoother than this. Intending to walk past him into the bathroom, I’m startled when he grabs me by the hand and brings it to his lips, kissing the sensitive skin on the underside of my wrist. The gesture is so unexpectedly sweet that I’m left utterly speechless.

  “What’s this represent?” Trevor asks, still holding my wrist, exposing the tattoo there.

  “Why would you think it represented anything?” I counter. Trevor traces his finger across the flower on my wrist.

  “Well, for a girl as wild and confident as you seem to be, I actually expected you to be covered in tattoos, but you’re not. On your entire body, you only have this one tattoo, and it’s in a place where you can always see it, which leads me to believe this tattoo is for you. It’s personal.”

  “How do you do that?” I ask, surprised by his insight. Trevor shrugs his shoulders.

  “It’s part of the job. So are you going to stop stalling and tell me or is it something you’d rather keep to yourself?”

  I never really thought about telling anyone about this tattoo before. In all honesty, no one ever asked, not even Evie. Most people see it and think ‘Oh, it’s a cute flower,’ but not Trevor. I’m beginning to believe he sees way too much. More than I
want him to.

  “It’s a daisy, for the Aunt I never knew. My mom doesn’t talk about my father or his family, but this one time she told me about my dad’s sister, Daisy. Apparently, she and Daisy became fast friends when she met my father, but my mother never spoke to her again after got pregnant with me and skipped town. She named me after her. Megan Daisy Kane.”

  Trevor’s hold on my wrist is loose, so I easily remove it from his grasp and walk into the bathroom, closing the door softly behind me.

  Chapter Ten

  Trevor

  There’s a lot more to Megan Daisy Kane than meets the eye. The more I’m around her, the more I want to know the side of her that she keeps hidden. I’m not even sure she’s aware that she hides part of herself from the people around her. I can tell by her reaction, that no one has ever asked her about that tattoo on her wrist.

  Megan considers herself an open book and so do most of the people around her, but they aren’t looking deep enough. She has secret chapters that she hasn’t published yet. Maybe it’s the interrogator in me – courtesy of the Army – or maybe it’s personal interest that makes me want to be the only person Megan shares her secrets with.

  Just as I pull my shirt on over my head, I hear a soft knock on the door. Spying a dirty clothes hamper in the corner of the room, I execute a quick jump shot, scoring two points, when my underwear land inside. I’ll have to go commando until I can make it back to Granny Mabel’s house.

  “Come on in,” I answer Gina’s knock. Bright blue eyes, framed by fringed black bangs, peek around the edge of the door.

  “Are you decent?” she inquires.

  Laughing, I answer, “I wouldn’t have invited you in otherwise.” Gina’s olive complexion tinges pink at the remark.

  “True. Not everyone is like Megan,” she says, opening the door wider.

  That’s a fact. Megan and Gina are like night and day. Gina is quiet, kind, and unassuming. Megan is sassy and self-confident. Evie seems to be the happy medium between Gina and Megan. All three women are beautiful in their own way.

  “You don’t seem surprised to find me in here,” I observe. Gina’s blush turns from pink to red.

  “I’ve already talked to Evie this morning. She stopped by Granny Mabel’s to see what you were up to, and Granny Mabel told her you didn’t come home last night. She said you were probably too tired from ‘bumping uglies’ with Megan to drag your ass out of bed this morning. Her words, not mine,” Gina quickly clarifies.

  Throwing my head back, I laugh out loud, a full belly laugh. “That sounds just like Granny!”

  “I know, right?” Gina smiles. “Your grandmother is an absolute riot.”

  “Yeah, it’s funny now that we’re older. When we were kids, Granny Mabel would embarrass the hell out of Evie and me with the crap that comes out of her mouth. Talk about not having a filter.”

  Gina cocks her head to the side, giving me a funny look.

  “What?” I ask.

  “Nothing. It’s just that Megan is a little like that too…” she trails off.

  “What are you getting at? That theory that people fall for someone like their mother or father? Or in my case, Granny Mabel, because she’s the mother-figure in my life?”

  Gina shrugs her shoulders. “Just a thought.”

  I’m no dummy when it comes to psychology. It’s my specialty, after all. Besides, even Granny Mabel recognized some of her own personality traits in Megan. Maybe those similarities do attract me to Megan, after all, I do admire my grandmother, but that’s where the similarities end. Megan looks nothing like Granny Mabel. I shiver just thinking about it. Ugh.

  “You alright?” Gina inquires. Nodding my head I give her a reassuring smile. “Good. I brought you and Megan some breakfast.”

  Gina walks out of the bedroom, and I follow, closing the door behind us. Pulling out one of the white, art deco bar stools sitting in front of the breakfast bar, I take a seat. Grabbing a plate with a beautiful hand-painted peacock on it, Gina unwraps a sandwich hidden by tin foil and places it on the plate, handing it to me.

  “It isn’t what I think it is, is it?” I ask, quickly taking a bite and groaning with pleasure.

  “Who’s got my man in here moaning better than I can?” Megan asks from behind me. Gina’s eyes go big, and I practically choke on the sandwich. I suddenly feel a small, calming hand on my shoulder. “Geez, simmer down. I was just kidding. Gina’s eyes damn near popped out of her head, and you’re over here choking to death on your sandwich.”

  Gina passes me a glass of orange juice to wash down the offending particle stuck in my throat. Megan caught me off guard. Not with her presence, I heard her coming way before she got close enough to touch me, but with her comment. I think I liked the sound of her calling me ‘her man’ just a little too much.

  “Food went down the wrong pipe. No biggie,” I finally reply with a partial truth. Why it went down the wrong pipe isn’t something I care to explain.

  “Ahh. I see Gina brought you your favorite breakfast sandwich,” Megan comments. “But did she bring mine, is the question?”

  Gina and Megan both know what my favorite breakfast sandwich. You just have to love that about women, they pay attention to the small details. I smile to myself and take another bite of the jalapeno and cheese bagel filled with eggs and bacon.

  “Of course, I did,” Gina says, handing Megan a plate with a ham steak, fried eggs and homestyle potatoes on it. “Oh, and here’s the apple streusel muffin that you love.”

  “Nope. It’s you I love,” Megan tells her before biting into the muffin with relish.

  It’s amazing how easy ‘I love you’ fell from her lips when speaking to Gina. Gauging by Gina’s lack of response, she’s used to hearing it.

  Interesting.

  “So, tell us what wedding adventures we have planned for today,” I address Gina, after polishing off the last bite of my sandwich.

  “No wedding stuff today,” Gina announces, smiling at my sigh of relief. “It’s only a few days before Christmas and Evie thought the guys and girls might want to split up and finish their Christmas shopping instead.”

  “Or in my case, start,” Megan mumbles.

  Megan’s looking fresh faced and adorable in a long fitted sweater, leggings, and thick socks, as she digs into her breakfast with gusto. Damn. The woman even makes eating look sexy! If it weren’t for Gina’s timely interruption earlier, we’d still be in bed finishing up where we left off – effectively ruining my carefully laid plans.

  “Thanks for breakfast Gina, you’re the best,” I say, walking around the counter and pulling her into a bear hug. “I’m gonna head out. Do you know if the guys are supposed to meet up at Hunter’s house again?”

  “Yeah, at around 11 o’clock.”

  “Catch ya later,” Megan says nonchalantly, dismissing me.

  She’s finished her food and is sipping on a mug of hot cocoa. Walking up to her perched on the barstool, I cup her face in my hand, gently wipe the froth from her lips with my thumb, and place a soft kiss on them.

  “Later, beautiful,” I whisper, looking into her eyes. Straightening up, I give Gina one last wave and walk out the door. I hope Megan thinks about that little goodbye kiss all day. Smiling to myself, I glance at my cell phone. It’s only a little after 10 o’clock, plenty of time for me to go change clothes at Granny Mabel’s before meeting up with the fellas.

  **********

  “So. You and Megan, huh?” Hunter asks as we walk through the jewelry store. Brayden has wandered off and is at the other end of the store looking at the merchandise.

  “Yeah. It’s nothing serious, though,” I answer in response to his question about me and Megan.

  “Would you want it to be? I mean, Megan’s a little wild for my taste. But hey, to each his own,” Hunter remarks. I get the feeling he’s trying to insinuate something.

  “If you’re trying to lead into telling me about Megan hooking up with two of Brayden’s buddies from the fi
re station, don’t bother. Evie told me the story right after it happened. I’m not worried about that. We all have pasts. It’s what we do with the future that matters,” I reply, looking at him pointedly.

  “Touché,” he responds, getting my not so subtle reference to his own past mistakes with my sister.

  I’m not mad at Hunter for trying to enlighten me on Megan’s behavior. That’s what a good friend should do. I don’t think he was passing judgment on her either. He just wanted to make sure I was in the know.

  “I sure hope Brayden isn’t over there looking for an engagement ring,” Hunter suddenly mumbles. I laugh at the comment.

  “I was just thinking the same thing. Maybe we should go over there and save him from himself.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Megan

  “So. You and Trevor, huh?” Gina comments after he leaves.

  “It’s not what you think,” I respond, eyeing her from over my mug as I take another sip of cocoa. Gina gives me a knowing look. “Well, okay. It’s probably exactly what you think it is. But don’t try to make me feel guilty about it. Because I don’t.”

  Which is the truth, I don’t feel guilty about hooking up with Trevor. But Gina has a knack for making me feel guilty about not feeling guilty − if that makes any sense.

  “I think you’re cute together.”

  Coming from anyone else that comment would sound like a taunt. But from Gina, it’s just a statement of fact. She never says things to hurt people’s feelings, and she definitely doesn’t pick a fight. Sometimes I wish she would. It would be much easier to fight back against someone who wasn’t so damn guileless.

  “Sometimes I hate you,” I tell her.

  “Hmm, well,” she smiles and shrugs, then turns serious. “How’s it going to end when Trevor leaves after the holidays?”