by Ciara Cole
There was not much small talk during the ride and Gwen felt grateful. She found some time to study Trent and try to figure him out, figure what it was about him that had changed. Personality wise, he’d changed the most. He did seem more hard-edged, but then she’d read up on him and knew about the fact he’d been married and then lost his wife to cancer.
That had made her feel bad for him. Gwen had never married and though she’d had plenty of chances with the relationships that came and gone in the past eight years, she couldn’t imagine what it felt like to lose someone like that.
Not that Gwen believed that Trent needed her pity in the slightest. Nor did she need his. They both had their scars and hidden demons from the past eight years apart, she could bet on that.
They arrived at a very discreetly situated venue. Gwen took note of how much security had followed them in accompanying vehicles, but didn’t comment on it. She could just imagine what it would mean to have to live like that, someone needing to watch your every move. Wasn’t that more reason why she had to keep Jonah removed from such a lifestyle? Right now he could just be a normal, ordinary kid like children were meant to be. Gwen couldn’t offer him the kind of indulgences his billionaire father might, but Gwen had made sure he had a stable childhood and that was the most important.
Another part of her chided Gwen to stop trying to soothe her hidden guilt from keeping father and son apart for so long.
When they were seated inside the restaurant, it took Gwen a minute to notice they were the only ones present. “Looks like we’ll have no distractions,” she said lightly, attempting to ease the atmosphere between them. She looked pointedly around at the otherwise empty dining room.
“I hope you don’t mind. I felt you’d be more comfortable this way.”
“That’s very considerate of you. I’m sure you wouldn’t want our names or pictures linked in some tabloid either,” she murmured. “So I can understand the need for utmost privacy.”
“You’re right, of course. I can’t be too careful,” Trent said. “You must have noticed all the security, the seclusion—I’ve had to deal with some unsavory media attention as of late, coupled with the fact that sometimes my position comes with having powerful enemies. But you don’t have to worry—you’re safe.”
Gwen wondered how safe she could be around a man as lethally attractive as Trent Matthews.
To think that for a few moments in their long-ago past, he had been hers. But he could never be hers again. Gwen felt a sudden gnawing ache of jealousy for the woman he’d married, who’d been the one considered perfect enough for him. It was unfortunate that she’d passed on, but at least the woman had had a taste of what Gwen never could. And that made her chest ache with a tightness she couldn’t explain.
She was glad for the distraction of trying to decide on her order, and simply bobbed her head in assent when Trent made suggestions about food and wine. Why had she agreed to this dinner anyway? She just felt those old wounds splitting open again.
When Gwen looked up, it was to find Trent looking at her with an expression she felt too wary to define.
A slow smile crept across his lips. “I can’t get over what a beautiful woman you’ve blossomed into. I always imagined what it would be like, crossing paths with you on a street, or to glimpse you in a crowd somewhere. It happened even better than I thought it would.”
Gwen’s eyes darted, her foolish shyness rising up out of nowhere. “Let’s face it,” she said on a laugh, “in normal circumstances, there’d be no cause for us to run into each other somewhere. We don’t exactly move in the same circles.”
“I’ll give you that. And yet, I always hoped.”
“You could have just looked for me,” she said. She speared him with her gaze, and Trent didn’t look away, to his credit. He held her stare unwaveringly.
“You’re right. I should have. Life happened … I got married and tried to start a family. Not much worked out the way I planned it to.” He seemed to wince, and lifted his glass for a big swallow of wine.
Gwen bit on her lip. “I heard about your wife. I’m sorry she passed.”
“Thank you. It means a lot, coming from you.”
Their eyes held for a millisecond of openness and understanding. From that moment, it seemed more natural to ease into conversation, with talk about work and how they’d built their careers. It was like now that the haze of initial fiery desire had cleared, they both faced the reality of the situation. And realized that the facts being what they were, they needed to move on from their high school situation.
Over the course of dinner, they agreed to work on keeping things professional. Gwen felt ready to roll with that.
“You think we can make things work?” Trent asked, as he refilled her glass of wine himself. After their course was served he’d dismissed the attendants, and now Gwen was afforded his whole attention. She had to admit, it did give her those crazy butterflies again.
“I’ll do my part to make sure of it,” she said without hesitation. “It’s all about the kids. I’d like to prove I’m more than just a school manager, and that I can improve the learning system of each and every student, irrespective of their station in life.”
“I’m all for that. Giving equal learning opportunity to children no matter what background they’re from. I understand how good education raises up not only the students but the entire community. Training the workforce of tomorrow and making the world a better place—I’m glad we can work together to try and advance that.”
Gwen bobbed her head quickly in enthusiasm. Trent was saying all the things she wanted to hear. There were so many celebrity philanthropists who led the way in funding education campaigns. She hoped that Trent’s idea of using this for PR would inspire others to pitch in, too. She definitely wouldn’t say no to more benefactors, that was for sure. Actors, pro athletes, and business leaders like Trent or other big name foundations could enlist each other to fund the countless school projects still pending, not just in her particular school but others in the district and beyond.
Gwen’s foray into education had been more of a calling than just a career interest. With the combination of some years of teaching experience as well as the master’s degree under her belt, Gwen built a resume that equipped her for the role she was thankful to now play. She kept tapping into the contacts she’d made and the processes she’d absorbed from and now her aim was to keep going higher.
It almost seemed to her she was trying to make up for something, to prove herself. But mostly, she was doing it for her eight-year-old Jonah. She needed to prove to him you could achieve whatever you set your mind to, no matter the cost.
Looking up at Trent, Gwen tried a smile and felt grateful to him for so far keeping Jonah out of the whole picture. They’d both avoided talking about their son, but Gwen should have known it was too much to expect, that Trent would let things go just like that.
They were back inside the limo after the most delicious dinner Gwen had ever tasted. She’d had more than her share of the fabulous wine, too and one more glass of champagne in the limo. The music was softer and more relaxing now, though its effect was less soothing this time and actually, somewhat sensual. The drums and guitar blended into the piano strains, and she found her eyes straying to Trent’s over the rim of her champagne glass.
“Jonah must possibly be asleep by now,” Trent murmured thoughtfully, and Gwen almost spat her last gulp of champagne back into the glass. Trent turned an impassive glance Gwen’s way. “If I looked in on him, just for a moment, I’m sure he wouldn’t even notice. That would be okay, wouldn’t it?”
Gwen set down her glass with shaky fingers. “No, it would not be okay. Why would you ask that of me?”
“Oh, I don’t know—maybe a father wanting another look at his own son?” Trent’s air of camaraderie from earlier was now more of a dauntless commander. “I need to see him. If you can’t let me hold him or even talk to him, I’d at least like a minute around him even if he did
n’t know I was there. Just thinking I could have passed him on the street and wouldn’t have even known …” He shook his head angrily and turned away to look out his window, his fist clenched on the leather between them.
Gwen didn’t know why, but she reached out her hand and rested it over his. It felt so simple to touch him, to offer comfort like she used to when they were younger. Trent had grown up with parents who’d been too distracted by their lives to pay much attention to him, and he’d always told Gwen that with her, he always found so much he’d been missing.
Thinking of him losing his wife and having to be alone again, tugged at something inside her. She squeezed on his hand, and whispered, “You don’t really blame me, do you? I mean, with the choice I made thanks to your parents? I just couldn’t give my baby up.”
Gwen sighed deeply. All those years ago, Trent’s parents took the choice out of her hands. Now, however, she could say no to Trent’s request and that would be equivalent to barring Trent from his son.
“I’m in no position to blame anyone, not you and not even my parents. You both had your reasons. But I can’t give him up either,” Trent said, his jaw hard, but he didn’t pull his hand from beneath Gwen’s.
She chewed on her bottom lip in consternation. “I need to think about it. I know that if you wanted, there’s not much I could do to keep you two apart. But I’d still like the chance to work things all out in my mind first.”
“More time,” Trent murmured reflectively. “Well, I guess it’s already been eight years. Why rush and then ruin the chance of smoothing things with my son? The last thing I want is to start off on the wrong foot with him.”
Gwen almost sagged in gratitude. She was glad Trent was choosing to give her space rather than push for her to give in. She was barely drawing in a relieved sigh, when the next moment, Trent leaned in and cupped her cheek.
Maybe she hesitated a moment too long. Or something flickered in her eyes, and signaled her capitulation. Trent’s lips moved to hover just a breath from hers, and Gwen gasped in an expectant breath. His gem-like eyes shifted down to her lips, her earlier biting on them making them seem plumper and lusher. She heard his deep, harsh groan. “You’re the one woman who can make me lose all control.”
His fingers had moved from her cheek to encircle her throat, closing around the slender column within the gentle clutch of his powerful hand. Strength and softness. Gwen felt dominated and calmed by it at the same time. Her eyelids fluttering closed, Trent slanted his face alongside hers and traced kisses from the delicate inside corner of her lips to the velvety outer seam, so full and inviting, with a rough growl.
Gwen drifted away, her senses filled by his intoxicating, woodsy fragrance. That hammering beat that echoed in her eardrums had to be her heart, she vaguely realized. Her hands rested on the crisp white front of Trent’s shirt, before moving beneath the lapels of his navy blue suit jacket to encompass his muscled shoulders. The heat of his kiss engulfed her already molten frame as the feeling of his wide chest and broad muscled upper arms turned her core to jelly.
Shutting her eyes more tightly, her body started to shake with the force of her need. Oh God, she couldn’t do this. Gwen began to quickly unearth her greedy hands from beneath his jacket. The next instant Trent grabbed on to one wrist, and rested her hand back on his chest. Then he drew it down his stomach, moving her palm over his rock-hard abs. Goodness, just how many did he have? Gwen moaned, her legs pressing together to reflexively ease the throbbing between them that just kept increasing.
What she didn’t expect, was for his hand to guide hers straight down to his crotch. Gwen was stunned. The intimacy of touching Trent where he was the hardest, and oh so engorged and aroused, had her recoiling in shocked lust, as if slapped.
Trent’s hand holding hers only tightened, his lips peeling from hers to skim along her cheek to her ear. “Don’t fight me, and don’t speak.”
Gwen shivered at those words that oozed danger as much as they oozed sin and eroticism.
“Just feel how much I want you,” he demanded, making her cup his hard heat. “And how I can’t stop picturing you, your body pinned down by mine, while I satisfy my burning thirst for you … here, and here.” First he brushed the ball of his thumb over her swollen mouth, then sent that same hand down between her legs to seek her apex, where he rubbed his fingers against her telltale moistness over her panties. Gwen stared deep in his eyes and moaned aloud.
Him touching her and her touching him at the same time—it set off a spark in her brain. Gasping, her hand squeezed on his thick length of its own accord, and even through the layers of fabric she felt scorched by the life force throbbing beneath her eager grasp.
Trent’s growl of approval had the wanton inside her grow more daring. It had been so long since she’d let herself feel anything close to this, and knowing she was desired this much, sent her excitement escalating.
Trent’s intense gaze burned into hers, their eyes staring at each other, unblinking. The heat radiating from the touch of his fingers on her lace-covered sex was almost too intense to be borne for long.
“I’m curious,” he rasped, “if I can still make you come fast and hard with just my touch.”
Oh, heavens. Gwen wanted to put a stop to this, but couldn’t. She’d missed this so much. Her breaths turned into pants, as Trent eased aside the square panel encasing her mound. She could feel droplets of her juices spill onto his fingertips just a second before he skimmed her vulva gently.
“Ttt … Ttt …” Dammit! How hard was it to say one name? Suddenly, Gwen couldn’t get even her tongue and lips to work. Trent placed a finger of his free hand over his lips to shush her.
Gwen bit into her bottom lip almost punishingly. This time, Trent shook his head in reproof. “Don’t bite so hard. Now I’m going to have to kiss it better,” he admonished. He closed the distance between their lips and pressed his mouth onto hers, seizing it in a tender kiss. His kiss was slow and sensual, much the same as his fingers strumming between her thighs. Gwen could tell he was exercising the utmost restraint, and making this all about her. And that ignited her pleasure even more.
As his kiss devoured her with tender passion, his fingers at her slit parted her swollen nether lips slightly. Then, he began to rub on the sensitive bundle of nerves surrounding her clit, mostly avoiding that eager, tingling button. Gwen moaned heavily, a part of her consciousness aware of his bulge seeming to jump beneath her hand still squeezing on it.
Gwen writhed in the plush leather of the seat, her sex hypersensitive to the thumb that he now ground into her needy clit. Unseen wires connected to that one spot, sent synapses transmitting fire to her breasts, her fingertips, her brain. Trent’s thumb picked up a long-remembered rhythm of circles and whorls that strummed her with a squidgy pressure. Two seconds, three seconds, four …
Gwen cried out in ecstasy as she came, right out of nowhere and nothing. The exquisite buildup, the chemical connection between them, and the way her body remembered how to trust and succumb to him, gave her completely up to her release.
The same moment she dissolved into a mercurial-like blob of bliss, Trent groaned and took her lips hard and possessively this time, sucking and nipping on her bottom lip, forcing in his tongue to duel with hers. Mindless with pleasure, Gwen responded with mutual fervor, her body on fire. She found her hands knotting in his hair while they kissed, his rough grunts meshing with her whispery moans.
It took some moments for Gwen to realize the limo had stopped. It moved so silently and cocooned them so perfectly within the stately confines that she’d barely even noticed when it had eaten up all the miles. Trent pulled away and they fell apart, Gwen blinking rapidly as she looked through the tinted windows and recognized her block.
Gwen turned to Trent with agitated eyes, but his smirking lips made her pause.
“Interesting to see you still respond to my touch so honestly,” he said. Gwen wanted to huff at the description of the way she’d come for him with
such lack of restraint. She felt heat creep up her neck and she almost slunk to the floor in shame.
“Stop blushing,” he reprimanded, and Gwen slapped both palms on her cheeks.
“Seriously, how can you tell?” she retorted. After all, her chestnut brown skin could hardly manage to give her away in that regard. But then, she did feel the heat beneath her palms which was enough to prove that he was right as usual, the devil.
“One thing went differently than I remember, though,” he went on thoughtfully as if she hadn’t spoken. Suddenly, he flashed a wicked grin. “You were a lot less loud than you used to be.”
“Oh!” Gwen rolled her eyes skywards and felt anger replace embarrassment. This was too much.
“Relax,” he said, reaching out to tuck a wayward lock of hair back from her face. “Either way, no one could have seen or heard. The partition has been up from the start.”
“Well isn’t that a relief?” Gwen muttered, doing her best to straighten her attire while paying no heed to her soaked panties that felt decidedly uncomfortable as she squirmed inside them.
Trent’s eyes sobered as they shifted to beyond Gwen’s shoulder, at her apartment building. “I won’t be coming up.”
Gwen made a slight face, which clearly indicated her train of thought that she hadn’t planned on inviting him anyway. She expected he would get pissed at her for that but he seemed to smile, though his lips barely moved.
“I should go,” she whispered. Yet her eyes were drawn to his face, as if to drink him in and memorize every feature as much as possible. What was she, besotted? He gave her one limo-roof-shaking orgasm and suddenly, she was all buttery in and out for him?
At the thought of the word buttery, Gwen stifled a gasp by biting on her bottom lip. Only for Trent to train his eyes on the full flesh she had half-trapped between her teeth. She could have sworn that he swallowed, seeing his throat as it slightly bobbed up and down.