Chapter 37
Present
The city lights blurred past as Trevor drove his Ferrari through Park Avenue. We’d just left Francesca’s party at two in the morning and the soft glow of Downtown flickered through the windshield, casting brief shadows across Trevor’s sharp profile as he drove.
I hadn’t wanted a ride from him, but it felt like fighting with him would just lead to us hate-fucking. And I was really trying to prevent that from happening again.
He hadn't said anything since we left, and the silence was heavy.
I had asked Francesca for a change of clothes before I left; something comfortable, something that didn’t remind me of the tight, clingy dress I had been wearing. Now I felt slightly more comfortable in the yoga pants and pink top, my hair pinned up in a clip and my heels replaced with Juicy Couture fluffy slides.
But it was the way the cool air of the car pressed against my skin, that made me painfully aware of how much the night had affected me.
I shifted again, pressing my thighs together – and they were still shaking. God, this was embarrassing.
I gripped the leather of the seat for a moment, trying to focus on anything else but the sharp tension between Trevor and I. The silence was suffocating.
Amai.
Sweet.
I couldn’t shake off the goddamn word.
Sweet.
Not menace.
Sweet.
Trevor. Always so controlled. Always so untouchable.
Yet tonight, there had been nothing collected about him. Not in the way he pushed that guy off me, or in the way he made me cry from coming so hard.
I could feel my pulse picking up, as the car seemed to get warmer.
Trevor didn’t seem to feel it. I glanced at him, his gaze fixed ahead.
He drove like he did everything else except fuck – controlled, precise. One hand on the wheel, the other resting near the shifter, fingers relaxed but aware. Trevor Kaito Su carried himself like someone who knew exactly how much damage he could do.
The perfect, sharp cut of his jaw and cheekbones.
The perfect, straight line of his nose.
The perfect, clean shave on his face.
The perfect, bulging muscles in his arms.
The perfect, fitting suit on him–
When he turned to glance at me, I immediately looked away, feeling my face burn with embarrassment.
God. What was wrong with me?
The car slowed, the headlights sweeping over a dark alley before coming to a stop.
“What are we doing here?” I asked, more breathless than I would’ve liked to admit, finally realizing he’d driven past SoHo and into Chinatown.
Getting out and rounding the hood to open my door. The Ferrari didn’t belong here, all sleek muscle and wealth against the cracked pavement. “You hungry or not?”
I hesitated. I was, but that wasn’t the point.
Still, curiosity won over. I stepped out, the night air thick with a warmth that clung. Holding my hand in his, Trevor moved ahead of me, effortless, like he knew this place better than the penthouse parties we had just left.
We slipped into the night market, past stalls bursting with color – bright dragon fruit, skewers sizzling over open flames, steam curling from bamboo baskets stacked high with dumplings. The hum of voices wrapped around us, a blend of Cantonese and Mandarin. The scent of incense, exhaust, and something savory curled through the air as we passed rows of mom-and-pop shops, flickering red lanterns swaying overhead.
Trevor stopped at a small stall tucked between two others, the kind of place you wouldn’t really notice. A woman behind the counter barely glanced up, already moving. She handed him two bowls, steam curling. He passed one to me, and I caught the scent of rich pork bone stock, the sharp bite of chili oil, the warmth of fresh noodles tangled together like silk.
“Lanzhou beef noodles,” He said, grabbing chopsticks. “Best in the city.”
I looked at the bowl, then at him. “You do this often? Kidnap women from parties and take them to eat street food?”
“Only the difficult ones.”
I smirked but didn’t argue.
We ate in silence for a while, the market moving around us, alive and breathing. I watched the way Trevor carried himself here – different from the Upper East Side and even SoHo, different from the quiet power he wore like a second skin. Here, he was comfortable. At ease.
“Why’d you really bring me here?” I asked finally.
He glanced at me, then back at his bowl. “Because I wanted to.”
The way he said it, low and simple, made my stomach flip in a way I didn’t like.
I focused on my food instead.
The tension between us sat heavy, unsaid, somewhere between the neon glow and the steam curling into the cold night air.
And for the first time, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to leave.
We stayed there for another hour, getting dessert and boba, before heading back to his car.
Just as we reached the end of the market, a voice called across the street. “Is that Trevor motherfucking Su?”
The muscles in Trevor’s body curled with tension, almost like he was waiting for a fight. As we turned around, his hand instinctively moved near the gun tucked into the back of his waistband. His body language was cool, calm, collected – already assessing the situation.
My pulse quickened.
A group of men was approaching, a few of them laughing, obviously drunk and high. But the one leading them, the one who had yelled – I recognized him .
Harvard’s basketball captain from college; Aaron . I hadn’t thought about him in years, not since that night – when Trevor had snapped his arm in half after he dedicated a dunk to me. That incident had ruined his chances of going pro, though I was fairly sure he wasn’t good enough to make it in the first place.
Now, Aaron had traded in his basketball shorts for a tailored suit, and his vitamin supplements for cocaine. His friends – just as arrogant and loud – trailed behind.
I felt the unease prick at the back of my neck, but Trevor was calm – a stillness to him that made everything about him seem even more dangerous. He didn’t show fear; never did.
“Jesus, man. What’s it been? Five years” Aaron called, his tone dripping with mockery. His eyes slid over to me. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t Natalia. Still the best tits I’ve ever seen.”
The words felt like a slap.
Trevor stepped forward. I gripped his arm, digging my nails into his bicep. Holding him back.
Aaron’s friends chuckled, looking between him and Trevor, begging for a fight.
Trevor’s voice came smooth and dark. “Look at her again, I’ll break your fucking neck this time.”
“What? You think you’re still some fucking tough guy? Because you broke my arm–”
“You’re still not worth the time,” Trevor interrupted, enough weight to his voice to silence everyone. “But if you insist, I’ll give you a lesson in pain you’ll never forget.”
The words hung in the air, cold and unforgiving.
Aaron faltered, before he masked it with another smirk, his gaze flickering between to me.
“I bet he doesn’t fuck you like I could. God, the things I’d do to those nice tits… You should leave him for me, Natalia–”
The moment I saw Trevor’s hand move towards his gun, my panic spiked. I couldn’t let it happen.
My nails dug into his skin harder. His muscles tensed under my grip.
“No, thanks. I don’t do four inches.” I gave my best fake smile, Aaron’s friends bursting into laughter.
“Trevor. He’s not worth it,” I spoke only for him, my voice low but insistent. “Come on,” I urged, my grip tightening as I gently pulled him with me.
I didn’t want to look back, but I could sense Aaron and his crew still watching us.
As we got into his car in the alley, I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding. Trevor slid into the driver’s seat.
“You okay?” He asked, his voice calm, though his body was rigid, and I could practically feel the rage rolling off him in waves.
I nodded, though the unease still lingered in my chest. “Yeah,” I murmured, my eyes staring out the window.
It was silent for a moment, before I heard the soft clink of metal.
He was loading his Glock.
The sound of the slide filled the silence, a sharp contrast to the hum of the car.
“Trevor, don’t. Please . He’s not worth it.”
“Not now, Natalia.” He spoke detachedly, as he expertly checked the magazine.
“What can I do?” I breathed hard, my anxiety rising.
“Get my mind off it,” He murmured distractively, moving to get out. “Though I doubt you can do that.”
Reaching over to his side, I pulled the door closed, moving on him. The moment I settled on Trevor’s lap, I could’ve sworn the laughing across the alley died down.
The Ferrari was blacked out, but not enough for the windshield to hide that I was on top of him.
Our eyes locked, and the noise of the city was swallowed by the intensity of his gaze.
His were black, impossibly dark, like staring into the depths of something endless, something that could swallow me whole if I let it. They usually gave nothing away, but in that moment, I saw the fire blazing deep beneath.
His gaze didn’t alter, and I felt myself caught in the pull of it.
“ Natalia .” Trevor’s voice was low and deep, proving the restraint beneath.
My hands moved over my body before I knew what I was doing. I ran my palms up, over my waist and the swell of my breasts, in slow, languid movements.
Trevor’s ebony eyes lit up – as hot as burning volcano ash. His muscles curled with tension, yet he made no effort to push me off.
I tilted my head, my hair draping over my shoulder in soft curls. “Is that why you broke his arm in college?” The pink, long-sleeve shirt I was wearing, had three small buttons at the top. “Why you want to kill him now?” My fingers brushed up, undoing the first button. “Because he wants me?”
Trevor’s eyes narrowed on me, his tongue swiping over his perfect teeth. “Because you don’t disrespect a woman the way he just did.”
“So not because of what he’s fantasized about my boobs?”
Another button.
“Maybe that too.” He murmured, his voice drowned in sin, as his eyes lowered to my hands.
“I remember you wanting pretty much the same things.”
The last button came undone. I pulled at the material, letting him see my cleavage.
His eyes shot up to mine. “ Me . Not him. Big difference.”
I hummed in distracted agreement, dragging my fingers underneath the thin material; pulling at it until it only barely covered my nipples. “What’s it to you?”
The thread snapped.
Trevor wrapped his big, strong arms around my waist, pulling me in. When he pressed his face to my cleavage, breathing me in deeply, I felt my heartbeat drop like a weight between my legs.
My nails dug into his biceps as he moved his face from left to right before choosing a side – opening his mouth with those straight white teeth of his, and biting into my soft skin.
I moaned, adrenaline shooting through my veins.
He shifted, only holding me up with one arm.
His tongue – wet and hot – stroked over my nipple before he sucked as much of my breast as he could into his mouth. I whimpered, feeling my hips unintentionally roll into him from the pleasure. One of his hands came up, massaging my other breast in big, slow movements.
Cold air hit my wet skin when he pulled away to slap one of my breasts, causing both to bounce from his hit. His gaze touched me there – dark, possessive and hot .
I instinctively rolled my hips when he pressed his face to my cleavage again, moving his face from side to side – basking in my soft touch.
When he went back in and switched to my other breast – licking, biting, sucking, kissing – my head fell back, my hips rolling into him again, this time much more intentional.
Energy sparked in both my breasts, at the same time as my clit, forcing me to chase the high. I felt like I was going to lose my mind if I didn’t come.
I switched from rolling my hips to full-on grinding into him, feeling his hard-on press right into my core, through the thin material of my yoga pants and his suit pants.
“ Natalia .”
“ Mmm ,” I barely heard him – if anything, only rode him harder.
My eyes opened wide when he pulled my hair, fisting it and pulling me back, along with a gasp out of my mouth.
He was close, teeth gritted as he spoke. “Unless you intend on taking my cock out and jumping on it until you’re filled with my cum, I suggest you get off my lap right now .”
It took a whole lot more restraint than I would’ve ever admitted to not do exactly that.
Leaning back, he relaxed into the seat, taking his hands off me. “Audience’s gone.”
I swallowed hard, glancing outside at the dark, empty alley – the guys long gone. My eyes fell to the Glock in Trevor’s hand, his forearm resting absently on the dip in the car door.
My blood iced. “Did you point that at them?”
He cocked his head. “You didn’t think I’d let anyone except me hear those little whimpers of yours?”
Our eyes met – his black and endless, mine soft and bare.
Trevor didn’t blink; didn’t even flinch, just held me there, steady and intense, like he could see every secret I tried to hide. Heat coiled low in my stomach, and I hated how much I liked it. How much I liked him looking at me like that.
I didn’t know what to say or do. I froze. Except my body was anything but. It burned from his touch. I bit my tongue, actually debating to ask him for a third one-night stand.
His eyes dropped to my chest, darkening, and making me aware my shirt was still wide open. He tipped his chin. “You gon’ let me fuck those gorgeous tits?”
I tensed, remembering how he did exactly that . Four years ago. In another black Ferrari.
Trevor raised his gaze to mine – almost angry. “Then. Get. Off .”
Scrambling off him and back to the passenger seat, I pulled my shirt closed again.