Tank (Moonshine Task Force Book 2)

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Tank (Moonshine Task Force Book 2) Page 10

by Laramie Briscoe


  “I did,” he confirms as he captures my lips the same way his palms capture my freed tits. It’s rough and out of control as our tongues duel for the dominant position. He wins, but only because I concede the victory.

  Using the pads of his thumb and pointer fingers, he worries the hard nub decorated with a barbell, causing me to pull my mouth from his. I face forward, tilting my head back onto his shoulder, thrusting my chest into his hands. “Please, Trevor,” I beg, wanting to feel what I’ve been missing for so long.

  “Lift your dress up for me.”

  I shiver as he mouths the side of my neck, his breath hot as he speaks against my skin. My hands shake as I remove them from the wall. His biceps tighten as he catches my weight against his palms.

  “Your leg,” I bite my bottom lip as I reach down, pulling the edge of my dress up past my thighs, settling the material against my hips.

  “The mother fucking leg is fine, Blaze. Higher,” he growls against me.

  I’m totally confused. “What?”

  “Pull it higher. Give me enough god damn room to work.”

  The tension between us is about to break, and I wonder what it’ll take to snap.

  I yank the material higher, like he instructed. “That enough room for you to work?”

  Moving his hands down to my hips, he pulls my panties down before he smacks me hard against the left ass cheek.

  “That’s for your smart mouth.”

  I smirk because I know deep down he loves it just as much as I do.

  “Hands on the wall.”

  Slapping them back where they started, I push against the wall, sticking my ass out at angle. He’s fumbling with a condom; I can hear the paper crinkling in the stillness of the room right before I feel it float to the ground next to my foot. Precious seconds are wasted as he suits up before fucking finally he again wraps his hands around my hips. There’s a slight tilt, a push against my back to angle me, and then there’s a thrust. That thrust is the best thing I have ever felt in my damn life. “Jesus,” I groan as he withdraws, thrusting back home. Letting the wall take my forehead, I become a ragdoll as I enjoy the way this man plays my body.

  Trevor

  God this feels good, so fucking good. Blaze and I have always been able to heat up the sheets, no pun intended. If there’s one thing we’ve done well from the beginning, it’s this. And to be without her for as long as I’ve been? It’s been torture. What we’re doing right now? The fact she’s invited me back into her body? Fucking dream come true.

  Taking my hands off her hips, I run them down her arms. I stretch out from behind her, curling my fingers in between hers, as I hold her against the wall with my weight.

  “Fuck me, Trevor,” she sighs as I thrust so hard, I lift her up off her feet.

  Feet encased in the sexiest shoes I’ve ever seen in my life. My hips have a mind of their own, pushing, pulling, the plunge, the withdrawal. I’m on autopilot as I work against her body.

  “You feel so good,” I whisper against her neck, sucking the flesh as I thrust deeper, hold there for a few heartbeats, and then withdraw again.

  “Ohmigod,” she moans, the sound echoing off the surface in front of her. “Make me come, Trevor,” she begs. “Please make me come.”

  I take one of my hands from hers, bringing it back to her hair, fisting it with my fingers. “You’ve been a good girl, Blaze,” I pull her mouth around, fusing our lips together. “What do you need? Take your hand off the wall and show me what you need.”

  Reaching around my back, she grabs my free hand, bringing both our hands down to her core. With both our index fingers, we flick her clit, working in tandem to get her off.

  “Yes!” She thrusts against our hands and then back against my cock in time with me.

  My legs are shaking with the effort to hold back, but more than anything, I want to feel her come. I need to feel her pussy clench around me, have to hear the little noise she makes in her throat as she gets hers. There’s more lubrication, helping our digits slide against each other and her.

  “Come on, baby, come for me,” I encourage her, because I know I’m going to blow, even though I already came once tonight.

  “I’m so close,” she leans her head back against my shoulder.

  Taking my other hand off the wall, I go to work at her tits again. Roughly grabbing, twisting the nipple, wishing like fuck I could turn her around and lick it with my tongue. I miss it, my mouth waters at the thought of holding the piece of flesh there. But this isn’t about me, it’s about her. Letting go, I lick the pads of my fingers before moving them back to her nipple, squeezing the way I know she likes it.

  We’re both sweating, breathing heavily, grinding against one another. We’re both so damn close it’s almost a live thing between us. I’m clenching my teeth, wanting her to go before me, because I’ll be damned if I come before her. To wait this long and be a two pump chump? No fucking way.

  Her palm comes off the wall, and she grabs her other breast, going to work on the erect flesh. “Yeah, yeah,” she’s chanting in time with my thrusts. Her body is getting slammed into the wall by mine, but she doesn’t care, and if she doesn’t care then I don’t care. Can’t bring myself to. Only thing I want to do right now is come and feel her come.

  “Feel good? You there, babe?” I bite down on her shoulder just as she clenches on my dick.

  “Yes! Fuck yes!” She moans, thrusting back against me. It’s like she’s broken through a brick wall and she’s on the other side, breathing heavily, now lazily stroking her clit, and putting her hand back on the wall.

  It’s all I need. I push home, let myself go, and groan deeply in her ear as I pour myself into the thin piece of rubber that separates our bodies. And finally, fucking finally, I feel like I got a piece of myself back tonight.

  Maybe, just maybe Trevor Trumbolt can start to put himself back together.

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Blaze

  Glancing at my reflection in the mirror, I again don’t recognize the woman staring back at me. Instead of someone with a polished updo and perfect makeup, I look alive. More alive than I have in months. Turning my head from side to side, I see my neck bears the evidence of what happened a few minutes ago with Trevor.

  Reaching up, I run my fingers along the already purpling bruises and finish taking down the hair he wrecked with his fingers.

  Luckily for me, I curled it before I put it up. Using my fingers and a comb I found in one of the drawers in the bathroom, I go to work, trying to make it look less “just been fucked” and more “beachy waves”. Once the hair is as good as it’s going to get, I take in my face with a critical eye. My lipstick, true to my words earlier, still hasn’t smeared. My mascara is a different story, it’s smudged under my eyes. A quick dab of water-softened toilet paper and I’ve fixed it as much as I can.

  This is as good as it’s going to get. Opening the door, I spot Trevor sitting on what was my childhood bed.

  “If I had come out of my bathroom as a teenager and you’d been sitting there, I’d probably think I had died and gone to Heaven,” I tease.

  He’s fixed his pants, tux jacket, and looks like he’s run his hands through his hair, just like I did.

  “If you had come out of the bathroom looking like you do right now, teenage me would have come in his pants,” his voice is deep, pitched low with arousal I’d thought we’d already taken care of.

  “And what does mid-twenties you think?”

  I can’t help asking the question because I love knowing he’s affected as much as I am. Most of the time I’m completely comfortable in my skin and one hundred percent sure of who I am, but there’s still a part of me that likes to hear it.

  He reaches out from where he still sits, bringing me into the circle of his arms and his spread legs.

  “Mid-twenties me is contemplating staying here with you in this room for at least a few more hours and not letting you go until we’ve made up for lost time.”

 
I bury my head in his neck. “Mmmmmm I can’t say I’d disagree with that, but I already have marks on my neck I’ve had to conceal.”

  “It’d be your fucking dress next, Blaze. I’d have to get you out of it, and it might not make it in one piece.”

  My pussy clenches at the visual his words conjure. I’ve never been with a man like Trevor before, and God-willing I won’t know anyone except him the rest of my life. He makes no excuses for how he likes things to go in the bedroom and he allows me to play. I have absolutely no complaints either way.

  “I’m not going to lie, I’d love to see how many pieces you can rip this dress into. We could hole up in here for the weekend and forget these last few months where I was stupid not to answer your texts. But…” I grab hold of his lapels, pulling myself closer. “Tomorrow is Christmas and I think your family would miss it.”

  “Tempted to say fuck the family, but I really want to see Stella,” he cups my face in the palms of his hands. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

  “Hurt me? No, I loved it. I’m kind of sore because it’d been a while, obviously.”

  A noise in the back of his throat makes me not only laugh, but goosebumps to rise on my arms.

  “I’m glad there was no one while we were apart,” he nuzzles my ear. “At least I didn’t fuck it up that much.”

  “It wasn’t just you, Trev,” I nuzzle him back, melting into his arms. “We both said and did things that weren’t mature.”

  He grunts. “But I started it.”

  I won’t argue; he’s telling the truth. Had it not been for him giving me an ultimatum, I wouldn’t have left, but honestly I could have handled it better.

  I lean in, kissing him on the lips, softly and slowly. “C’mon, we gotta go make an appearance.”

  He groans, kissing me softly on the neck. “Alright baby, let’s go make an appearance.”

  * * *

  I’m nervous as we snake our way through the friends, family, and strangers who have gathered in my parents’ home to celebrate the holiday. Drinks are flowing, finger foods are being eaten, and I’m sure deals are being made in my daddy’s office. There the expensive scotch has been brought out, as well as the Cuban cigars. He’s more than likely closed on something that’ll make him another couple hundred thousand dollars. Mom’s working the room; I can see her from where I stand, flittering from one group of ladies to another. This right here is everything I hate and everything she loves. Whitney would have been the perfect daughter for her.

  “Daphne dear,” her voice is like nails on a chalkboard. Tightening my fingers around Trevor’s, I pull him in her direction.

  “Hi, Mom.”

  She leans forward, kissing me on both cheeks. “Daphne honey, it’s so good to see you.”

  I can feel Trevor vibrating at my side. He always laughs when he hears anyone call me by my real name.

  “Mother, I’d like you to meet my boyfriend, Trevor Trumbolt.”

  With assessing green eyes, so much like mine, I watch her rake his body from his toes to the top of his head. She appreciates good looking men, and I can tell by the way her eyes light up, she appreciates the man on my arm. I want to hop up, wrap my legs around his waist, fuse our mouths together, and fucking lay claim to him. It wouldn’t be the first time mommy dearest flirted with one of my boyfriends since I turned eighteen.

  “Trumbolt,” she puts her hand out, fluttering her eyebrows as he politely takes her hand. “Any relation to the party planner, Whitney? Her name has been thrown around to possibly do our annual fundraiser in April.”

  My stomach clenches in both excitement and dread for Whitney.

  “Yes, ma’am,” he answers. “She’s my older sister.”

  “Oh honey, call me Olivia. Any friend of my daughter’s is a friend of mine.”

  I cover my snort up by coughing.

  “Thank you, ma’am, but my mother raised me to respect my elders.”

  Mom sniffs, shooting him a glare. There’s a flare of irritation in her eyes that she isn’t the recipient of his attention.

  Dear Lord, but I do love when Trevor throws those manners out the window and takes me exactly how I want him to.

  My mom takes a drink from the champagne glass in her hand. “Thank you, at least, for dressing decently, Daphne.”

  I open my mouth to tell her your welcome, but she continues.

  “Now have you decided you’re going to give up that servant’s job you insist on keeping? Perhaps Trevor here can convince you to stop doing things beneath your station in life.”

  And just like that, she’s managed to piss me off. “No Mom, in fact Trevor’s a cop.”

  She gives him a slick smile. “I would imagine a man would have to be strong to take another man down.”

  I want to fucking pee on his leg so she gets the hint. “He was actually injured in the line of duty,” I say between clenched teeth. “So we’ll probably be leaving soon.”

  She turns to me, mouth in a line and shrewd. “Thank you for gracing us with your presence Daphne, but next time, please do wear your hair up. It’s the respectable thing to do.”

  I’ve had about all I can take of this whole situation and I’m feeling a little ornery. Letting go of Trevor’s hand, I pull my curls up into a ponytail. “Like this? So everyone here can see the love bites on my neck? By the way, I got those less than an hour ago in my childhood bedroom. If you happen to find an empty condom wrapper up there – no need to worry about daddy – it was ours,” I point to Trevor. “And thanks to the workout he gave me, I’m tired and I think we’ll be going. Merry Christmas.”

  When I turn around, my mom’s jaw is hanging open so wide she could catch flies with it. “C’mon, let’s get the fuck outta here.”

  I drag him through the crowd and out into the fresh air of the semi-cool night. The air helps to ground me, and I thank God I don’t have to do this more than a few times a year.

  The car that brought us is waiting and we get in without looking back. As it pulls away, I give him a grin. “Sorry, it pissed me off how she kept hitting on you.”

  He chuckles, pulling me to him with an arm around my neck. “Don’t be, it was fucking hot, and I think now I see why you resisted me asking you to quit so much.”

  As we make the drive back to Trevor’s house, I can finally feel myself beginning to relax. I’m nothing like those people I just left, and as long as I stay true to myself, I never will be. At least I hope not.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Trevor

  “Sit right there and I’ll bring you a drink.”

  I kinda love how my mom still assumes I can’t fend for myself. On the other hand, I’m a grown man who’s lucky to still have the use of his body after everything I went through. “I got it, Mom.”

  “Let me take care of you, Trevor,” she leans in giving me a hug. “Let me enjoy the fact you’re still with us.”

  Hardly anything anyone else has said hit me the way these words from my mom hits me. I have to bite back the wave of emotion those simple words bring forth. I’m not even sure why this affects me more with such a punch in the gut. I watch as she goes into the kitchen before I turn my attention to my best friend, Renegade.

  “How are you?”

  He looks up from where he’s rocking the carrier my niece is sleeping in with his foot. Dark circles form half-moons under his eyes, and I’m pretty sure he hasn’t seen a razor in a week. “Tired as fuck,” he admits. “But I’ve never been happier in my life.”

  I can tell, even with the haggard appearance, he has an easy smile and relaxed body language. “How much sleep are you running on right now?”

  He tilts his head back, doing calculations in his head. “About three hours, which isn’t bad, but it’s like the fourth day of it. I let Whit sleep last night since I knew your mom would need help.”

  I nod, proud of him, proud of the man he’s become, and hope like hell I can be the same kind of man. Maybe one day I can be the same kind of partner he is, sharing
in the care of my own child. It’s something I’ve been thinking about since Stella was born mere days ago. Part of me wonders if I’m still too selfish, the other part would love to talk to Blaze about it. Either way, I know it’ll all come in its own time. Forcing things has never worked for me.

  “How’s the leg?” he gestures to the brace.

  “Good actually,” a grin spreads across my face. “I gave it a good workout last night. It was a little sore this morning, but feels good. The physical therapist told me one day it would all click and I would feel close to a hundred percent because the bone would be healing. I think I’ve gotten to that point.”

  “Wipe that fuckin’ smug ass smile off your face,” Renegade throws a pillow at me. “I can tell by one look at you how you tired it out. You’re getting your rocks off and I’m grabbing a cat nap.”

  I laugh, grabbing the pillow with one hand before it hits my face. “You wouldn’t change it, so don’t be a hater.”

  At that moment, Stella starts screaming, a loud noise I’m not sure should be coming from such a little baby.

  “Right on time,” Renegade reaches over, grabbing the diaper bag they brought in with them. “You wanna pick her up?” he raises an eyebrow at me. “She’ll scream until she gets this bottle.”

  No time like the present to learn how to be an uncle, I guess. Getting up off the couch, I go sit over next to him as he rifles through the bag, pulling out a container, a bottle of water, and an empty bottle.

  Pulling the carrier over next to me, I look at my niece. Her face is scrunched up and red, her blue eyes filled with water, and she’s screaming bloody murder. I reach down, picking her up out of the carrier. “Hey Stella,” I soothe, supporting her head and bouncing her in my arms. She’s so fucking small, I’m scared to death I’ll either drop her or crush her with what bulk I still have. “Why would a pretty girl like you make such an ugly face?” I tease, reaching out to wipe away some of her tears. She stops crying, glancing up at me as I continue to bounce her. “Remember me?” She tilts her head to the side, almost as if she’s contemplating whether she does or not.

 

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