His Every Need

by Terri L. Austin

  Mags touched Allie’s knee. “Exactly. Won’t it be fun? We can have a hen night.”

  Allie twisted and looked up at Trevor. “Bachelorette party,” he translated.

  “Oh, well, I don’t know how long I’m going to be here.”

  “Nonsense, darling, Trevor is half in love with you already. I have a feeling you might be here permanently.”

  He unwound the strand of hair he’d been toying with and dropped it. “Don’t be stupid, Mother.”

  “Ow.” Allie glared at him over her shoulder and rubbed her head.

  He donned a neutral expression as he sipped his scotch. “Apologies, Miss Campbell.”

  “How could he not be in love with her?” Nigel asked. “Look at the girl. She’s perfectly lovely.”

  “And given half a chance, you’d fuck her sideways.” Trevor smiled coldly at Nigel. “Yes, Father, we know. If there’s a woman in the room, you need to prove that your cock still works. We get it.” Trevor wanted nothing more than to pick the man up and throw him out of his house.

  Nigel shot Trevor a disappointed frown. “There’s no need for that, Son. It’s all in the past.”

  Mags sat up straight. “We should go in to dinner. I’m famished.”

  Chapter 10

  Allie nodded politely as Mags went on about dresses, shoes, cakes, and bouquets, but her mind was on Trevor and his father. Despite his bland expression, Trevor had sounded so bitter. Was he upset because his father slept with other women in general or one woman in particular? The next time she saw Frances, Allie would pump her for information. She had turned on The Blake Family soap opera, but started watching in the middle of an episode and was confused by the characters and plotlines. Of course, she could ask Trevor for details, but he’d only say something nasty and shocking, so what was the point?

  “How does that sound?” Mags asked.

  Allie tried to remember what they had been talking about.

  Before she could respond, Trevor spoke. “She wasn’t paying attention, Mother. If you were the slightest bit aware of anyone other than yourself, you would have seen Allie’s eyes glaze over ten minutes ago.”

  Mags’s smile dimmed just a little. “Sorry, darling, I forgot that wedding plans are tedious for everyone but the bride.”

  “You’ve done it enough times, you should remember. Why not get married by an Elvis impersonator and quit bothering the rest of us?” Trevor said.

  Allie glanced at him. Despite his biting words, his face was perfectly pleasant.

  “Sorry, Mags,” Allie said. “I do want to know all the details. My mind just wandered for a second. Now, what are you wearing?”

  “We’ll go shopping tomorrow, dearest, and pick it out. We’ll pick out your dress too.”

  Oh God, not more shopping. Allie managed a smile. “Sure.”

  “Allie doesn’t like shopping, Mother.”

  Mags appeared confused for a second, then began to laugh. “Don’t be silly. All women love to shop.”

  The rest of the dinner passed slowly. Mags chatted away and Allie tried to appear interested, Trevor interrupted with biting, sarcastic remarks, and Nigel remained quiet. When it was finally over, Trevor excused himself and went to his office. Allie, not the slightest bit tired after her drunken nap, knew she couldn’t stand any more of Mags’s cheerful prattling and Nigel’s brooding silence.

  She excused herself and, on her way to her room, stopped by the library on the second floor and snagged a couple of books relating to Spanish daggers. She wanted to know why all of these collectibles were so damn interesting to Trevor. Then she changed clothes and called her dad.

  “Hello?” His voice sounded anxious.

  “Hey, Dad, have you heard from Monica? I called her this morning and left a message, but I haven’t heard back.”

  He sighed. “No, I thought you might be her.”

  Damn that kid. “Let me know if she calls?” Allie asked.

  “Yeah, same here.”

  She asked to speak to Brynn and flipped through the dagger book until her sister picked up the phone.

  “Hey, Al,” Brynn whispered, “Dad’s freaking out over here.”

  “He’s worried about Monica. You still don’t know Brad’s last name or who his friends are?”

  “Uh, no. I don’t hang out with stoners.”

  The book dropped from Allie’s lap. “Is it just pot or something else?”

  Brynn sighed. “I’m not sure, but I found a bag of pot under her mattress. Don’t tell her, okay? She’ll kill me if she knows I was snooping.”

  “I promise. But you have to let me know if you find anything else.”

  “Okay.” There was a long pause. “So, are you stopping by home this week? I mean, I know you’re busy. You don’t have to come, I was just curious.”

  Although she might claim otherwise, Brynn needed her, needed the stability she provided. “Tomorrow morning. I’ll make you breakfast.” If Trevor had any objections, too bad. Allie had responsibilities.

  “French toast?”

  “You got it, Brynnie.”

  After she hung up, she tried to concentrate on the book, but antique Spanish daggers, even the kind made from Toledo steel, just couldn’t hold her attention. What if Monica was doing something worse than sparking up? Allie had a bad feeling about this Brad guy.

  She should have kept a better eye on Monica, should have searched her room, checked her phone.

  Frustrated and restless, she grabbed her robe, threw it on, and opened her bedroom door. Glancing out to make sure no one was loitering in the hall, she padded from room to room, examining the objets d’art on display.

  She stopped to look at carved salt cellars. Snuff boxes were grouped together on a shelf in the library. The top of each held an engraved herald or crest. What was the appeal of all these items? Trevor didn’t seem obsessed with the collections, yet he must be. She couldn’t swing a dead cat without hitting some encased doodad.

  As she drifted through the second floor, her mind turned over the situation with Monica, but she’d come to no conclusions. If her sister chose not to answer her messages, there wasn’t much Allie could do but worry.

  She made her way to the round TV room and settled herself onto the squishy sofa, curling her feet beneath her, and began changing channels. She wasn’t in the mood for crime shows, news shows, or movies, but when she spotted an ugly pair of green earrings on a shopping channel, she paused.

  “Good God, you’re not thinking of buying those,” Trevor whispered in her ear.

  Allie jumped and spun her head. “Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

  He plopped on the sofa next to her, his thigh touching her leg. “How would you like me to sneak up on you?”

  “How about not sneaking at all? And I can’t buy anything. I don’t have a job anymore.”

  Trevor reached over and took the remote control out of her hand, hitting the off button and tossing it on the sofa cushion. He gazed at her out of the corner of his eye. “What’s wrong, love?”

  She untucked her legs, pulling the edges of her robe closed. “My sister’s missing.”

  “Monica?”

  She nodded.

  He picked up the pink satin sash and rubbed it between his fingers. “Missing how?”

  “Like she’s gone. Trevor, I need to be at home with my family.”

  “When was she last seen? Is she really missing, or is she with the boyfriend?” He shifted toward her, stretching his arm along the back of the sofa.

  “She’s been gone for two days, no one’s heard from her, and apparently, she’s smoking pot.”

  He gasped. “Not the dreaded marijuana.”

  She jerked her tie out of his grasp. “It’s not funny. My sister’s out there”—she flung her arm
wide—“doing God knows what with some punk ass guy we know nothing about. She’s throwing her life away.”

  He gripped her chin, forcing her to look at him. “I’ll find out who this Brad person is, all right?”

  Surprised at his offer to help, she nodded. “What’s this going to cost me? Nothing with you is free.”

  He swooped down and kissed her. When his tongue stroked hers, she reached up to touch the side of his face, but he pulled away too quickly. “There, paid in full.” She ran a finger over her lips. That brief kiss wasn’t enough. Why did she have to feel this way about him? He was everything she didn’t want—high-handed, arrogant, snide.

  He watched her reaction with hooded eyes. They stared at each other in silence until Allie began to feel her cheeks heat up.

  Comforting, funny, confident. Sexy as hell. All right, so he had his good points.

  She swallowed at the sensual allure in those smoky gray eyes. “I think you hurt your mom’s feelings at dinner.” She didn’t really want to talk about his mother. She wanted to lean forward and kiss him back. She wanted to stroke the prominent cheekbones, to feel the rough stubble on his chin. But after last night’s after-sex dismissal, she was a little hesitant to make the first move.

  He plucked at her hair and, just like in the drawing room before dinner, twirled a strand around his finger, unwound it, and twisted it again. “My mother doesn’t have feelings, she has histrionics.”

  Allie turned her head slightly to look up at him. “She was hurt, Trevor. I could see it in her eyes.”

  He shrugged. “She’ll get over it.”

  She knew it was useless to discuss it with him anymore. He had an amazing way of blocking out anything he didn’t want to hear.

  Letting go of her hair, he brushed his finger lightly down her cheek.

  She smiled and slapped at his hand. “That tickles.”

  Trevor raised both brows. “Are you ticklish then, Miss Campbell?” His eyes twinkled, and without warning, he struck. His fingers scurried over her ribs and stomach. He squeezed her knee until she was twisting away from him.

  Laughing, Allie tried to push him off but couldn’t. His hands seemed to be everywhere at once. When he lightly squeezed her side, Allie couldn’t take anymore. The safe word they had talked about suddenly popped into her head. “Uruguay.” She laughed as she said it. With a grin, he kept tickling and she pushed at his chest. “Uruguay, Uruguay.”

  He stopped squeezing but kept his hand pinned to her waist. He was halfway on top of her now, and her robe had parted, leaving her legs bare.

  Allie froze beneath him. Her breath came in shallow gasps. Once again, his gaze snagged hers, and she was unable to look away. She reached up and smoothed a dark lock of hair off his forehead.

  “Allison.”

  ***

  Her white cotton T-shirt peeked between the edges of her robe. Shouldn’t be sexy, but it was. Long, blond hair fanned out over the sofa cushion, trailing toward the floor. She fluttered her lashes, her eyes locking with his, and she bit down on that pouty lower lip.

  “I need to fuck you again.” He was surprised at how harsh his voice sounded, but he was on the edge here and he didn’t know how much longer he could watch her, ache for her, and not fucking take her.

  “’Kay.” It was a faint whisper.

  Okay? She was on board then?

  Clamping both his hands on either side of her head, he took possession of her mouth. He slid his tongue against hers and bit at her lip, not too hard but probably enough to sting. Then he licked at it and nibbled, more gently this time.

  During their encounters, both in the salon and in his office, he’d hardly kissed her at all. He hadn’t realized what he’d been missing. Allison was delicious. God, he loved the way she tasted. Sweet and hot. Loved the way her tongue met his, the way she sucked on it. And when she moaned into his mouth, he moaned too.

  She murmured in the back of her throat as she moved her legs restlessly beneath him. Then Allie grabbed his wrists, stroked her hands along his arms, back and forth, scratching her short nails against his skin. Even that felt brilliant.

  Abruptly, she let go of his arms and clutched his shirt in her hands, pulling him closer.

  In response, Trevor fisted her soft hair, tilted her head back against the sofa pillow, and continued to devour her. Every bit of finesse deserted him, and he was like a randy schoolboy on his first time out. Their teeth bumped and he knew he was being too rough. She didn’t seem to mind though. She met him kiss for searing kiss, thrust her tongue against his, stroking it with her own.

  Allie continued to clutch at his shirt as her legs tangled with his. Then she rotated her hips, grinding on him, moving against his straining cock. Oh, fuck, that felt good.

  He wanted to touch her body, feel those breasts. In a moment. Maybe two, because right now, he couldn’t stop kissing her, couldn’t stop sticking his tongue down her bloody throat.

  Allie wrapped one leg around his waist. Exactly what he’d been thinking about earlier. She squeezed his waist with it, and he shifted until his cock was aligned with her pussy. Then he moved against her, angling himself, rotating as he pressed against her.

  So hot.

  He was on fire. The feel of her consumed him, burned him up. He couldn’t remember wanting anything the way he wanted Allison.

  Allie’s moans became more frequent, more urgent as she continued to grind against him. He hadn’t dry humped anyone since he was fifteen. But it felt so damned wonderful, he just kept rubbing against her, enjoyed the friction.

  Keeping his mouth on hers, he let go of her head and jerked the tie of her robe loose. Then he pulled it open and off her shoulders.

  Allie broke away, tore her mouth from his, and shrugged out of the robe. “Hang on, let me get rid of this.” As soon as her arms were free, he found the hem of her shirt and whipped it over her head.

  With his weight on his hands, he leaned away to look at her. For a long moment he simply stared at the beauty that was Allison Campbell—that lovely face, the wide, blue eyes, the lush mouth. Ah, those full, pink-tipped breasts. Then his mouth was back on hers, demanding a response.

  She gave him one. She sank her fingers into his hair, tightening her grasp, pulling at it. It almost hurt. And he loved it. Loved the way his body heated at her touch. Loved the way he fit against her. Perfectly, like they were made that way.

  He clasped her thigh, smoothed his palm across her soft skin, working his hand higher until he cupped her ass through the thin material of her shorts. He forced his mouth off of hers. “Why are you wearing so many damned clothes? Bloody nuisance.” Then he leaned back down and pressed his lips to hers once more.

  He grasped the waistband of the shorts and pulled them down. Allie helped by lifting her ass off the sofa and yanking on the other side. With reluctance, Trevor raised his head and stopped kissing. “Drop your leg, darling. Shorts need to come off.” He was all but gasping, his chest brushing her bare breasts with each exhalation. Those gorgeous bare breasts. Dipping his head, he took one in his mouth and sucked.

  “Trevor.” She pulled on his hair until he raised his head. “Why am I always the naked one, huh?”

  He smiled down at her. “Part of my master plan.”

  She ran her tongue across her lips—they were dark red and swollen. She slid her calf over his ass and down the back of his thigh, taking her time, caressing him with her leg.

  He groaned. “You’re killing me, Miss Campbell.” He drew the shorts over her legs and dropped them on the floor.

  “We’ve had sex. Can we dispense with the Miss Campbell?” She was winded too. He liked that he’d done that, made her heart pound, made her breathless with his kisses.

  He grinned. “Maybe I have a naughty nanny fantasy.”

  She let go of her viselike hold on
his hair and laughed. God, how he loved that sound. She smoothed her hands along the sides of his face, brushed his cheek. “Let’s get you naked too.”

  “Marvelous idea.” He leaned back, keeping his knee wedged between her thighs, and with one hand, unbuttoned his shirt. Allie didn’t help him. Instead, she ran her own hands across her breasts and watched as his shirt disappeared.

  With great reluctance, he moved away from her to stand. “Do that again. Touch yourself.”

  Her eyes on him, she hesitated a moment, then did as he’d asked. Pulling her bottom lip into her mouth, she lightly circled her fingertips over her nipples. They jutted out, begging for his attention.

  Trevor’s gaze didn’t leave her as he found a condom. “More.” He grabbed his cock through his pants, gave it a stroke as he watched her.

  She cupped her breasts, then moved her hands lower, with agonizing slowness, down her taut stomach, over her smooth legs. Finally, her fingers danced over the small triangle of blond hair. She let her legs fall open and parted the lips with two fingers, giving him a captivating view of her damp pussy.

  He ran a hand over his mouth, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. He needed to get control or he’d embarrass himself—that also hadn’t happened since he was fifteen.

  After a minute, he opened his eyes and kicked off his shoes, and in seconds was as naked as she. Still touching herself, her gaze flowed over him, taking in his chest, his abs, and stopping at his cock.

  He wanted to protest when she moved her hand away from that lovely cunt, but when Allie sat up and balanced on her knees, crooking her finger at him, he closed his mouth. “Come here, English.”

  Enthralled, Trevor stepped closer and cupped the back of her head. When she circled both hands around his cock, he groaned. But when she rubbed his tip across her nipple, he almost came on the spot.

  “Fuck, Allison.”

  “In a minute,” she said with grin.

  Reaching out, Trevor squeezed her breasts together and placed his cock between them. God, he’d fantasized about this. Often. The real thing was much better. Allie dropped her hands as he pushed himself between her tits. It was almost more than he could to take.