6. Trent
6
TRENT
T he shock of my motherfucking life. It’s like today, the universe woke up and said let’s throw shit on top of more shit. On Valentine’s Day, no less, not that I’m much of a romantic. Given the choice, I’d much rather have Kennedy in my cuffs while she’s spread bare for me. There’s no holding back now. I’m done playing pretend when it comes to me wanting her.
I hustle back to the car. There’s a nip to the air, and I didn’t keep the car running with the heat on. I’m a selfish prick; it’d put me behind even more had I stopped to start the car. As it is, Chase and the captain wanted to know who I put in my car. I did some quick talking, telling them who Kennedy is, and they knew who she was related to. It’s kind of hard not to when everyone knows fucking everyone. Cap made the exception, but I’m to get her written statement as soon as fucking possible, his words, and there was definitely a bite to his tone.
“Sorry that took so long,” I say, settling into the driver’s seat, starting the car, putting it into gear, and leaving the scene. Tomorrow morning is going to be a bitch and a half with the amount of paperwork I’m leaving in my wake. I’m also going to owe Chase a shit ton favors. I expect he’ll be cashing in soon, too.
“No problem. Nothing like sitting here with my wayward thoughts.” Kennedy shrugs her shoulders. I take my eyes off the road for a moment to take her in. Jesus Christ, the hoodie drops from her body, baring her tits to me again. You’d never know she’s a mom to an almost seven-year-old. Kennedy’s body is fucking banging: slender shoulders, tits that are perky and a handful, slim waist, hips that flare out, and thighs I want to feel wrapped around me while I finally take the woman I’ve been keeping away from. That doesn’t negate the fact my cock perks up anytime she’s around, let alone when I think about her. The callouses on my hand are from fisting my cock. Anytime I’m in the shower or in bed, I’m instantly brought back to the moment I kissed her. The only mistake I made was not taking it further.
“Kennedy,” I groan her name, deep from my chest. This is going to be a long-as-fuck ride home.
“What, do my boobs offend you, Trent?” She is uncomfortable. She may not think I have been in her shoes, and while it’s not the same thing entirely, we did have training where they made us do similar.
“Nah, babe, enjoying the view. A whole damn lot.” I turn my blinker on and head back to Whispering Oaks. The areas surrounding where we live may be spread out, but the interstate makes getting there a whole lot faster, by at least ten minutes, after going above the speed limit yet keeping us safe, too. Whereas Kennedy lives in a subdivision, I live on a small plot of land out in the middle of nowhere. I’d had high hopes of having a sort of hobby type farm set up, but there’s never been a chance with my work schedule.
“Shocking.” I turn the heat up, moving the vents until they’re pointed toward her. I should have pulled over and uncuffed her, except that could mean others could have seen her, and I’ll be damned if I’ll ever let that happen again. It took everything in me to shut down my emotions, become a wall, and be the police officer I’ve been trained to be.
“Not at fucking all,” I say under my breath, exiting the interstate. Two more roads, and we’ll be back at my place. Then we’re going to talk, and I’m going to keep her attached to me until we get everything out in the open. Asher Fontaine may be my best friend and the reason I held back, but that ends tonight.
“What did you say?” she asks, moving around to reposition herself. All it does is open her shirt more, and her skirt lifts up closer to where I’m dying to get my mouth between.
“Nothing that can’t wait. You wanna tell me why you had this elaborate lie of working at a college bar instead of being truthful?” I open a can of worms, figuring if we get this out of the way, we can move on to the next part, and then we can end tonight an entirely different way.
“Oh, I don’t know. Probably because between Asher, you, and everyone else, I’d get the judgment that was written on your face when you barged into the club tonight. Then there’s the fact that I needed money and didn’t want it thrown in my face, namely by my father’s wife, or to have another payment to make monthly. I have my reasons, and they’re damn good, too. The other shit that happened tonight, I’ll be completely honest, I have no idea. I steered clear of the backrooms; I dance the stage and only the stage. The backroom is for others, not for me. Mitch tried to have me do a hell of a lot more. We argued, he tried to brow beat me, I stood my ground, and all I had to do was breathe a hint of quitting for him to back off.” Kennedy is a wealth of information, getting it all out in the open, and for that, I’m thankful. The truth of the matter is I’m tempted to turn this car around, find Mitch, and give him a taste of his own medicine. Maybe I’ll make a call to the jail, ask to put him in general population. There are a lot of inmates in there who don’t take lightly to pressuring women into doing things they don’t like or sex trafficking. Fuck. They’d do the job of tearing him apart for me. Her getting this out also means the bad part of the night is about to be over. “Now, I can tell you the other guy… Shit, what’s his name.”
“DeMarco?” I interrupt.
“Maybe, dark hair and beard, thick waist?”
“That’s him,” I confirm.
“He’s never there. Except tonight and last night. We stayed open an extra two hours. I’d never been so excited to see my car. Other than that, all I did was pay my fee, dance my sets, and leave as quickly as I could.” I tuck that tidbit of information away for later when I write my report.
“What about lap dances?” I take one last turn. This question is probably going to piss her off, but my last fuck to give is long gone. Kennedy Fontaine has me by the balls, and she damn well knows it.
“Why, going to pay me to sit on your lap and give you a certain Valentine’s present every man at the club wanted, Trent?” she tosses out, wiggling in her seat. I didn’t tighten her handcuffs as much as I would have others. It seems Kennedy is still just as flexible as ever as well as double jointed.
“Fuck yeah, but let’s get one thing straight, Kennedy.” I pull into my driveway, park my police-issued car behind my truck, and slam the gear into Park. She has her arms in front of her, wiggling her wrists up in the air, not even bothering to grab my hoodie.
“What’s that?” she asks. I don’t bother replying right away. The next thing I have to say will be face to fucking face. I’m laying it all out on the line, no more holding back, and no more hiding.
I knife out of the car more than ready to get to Kennedy. I can grab my shit later. I already stowed my helmet, gun, and bulletproof vest in the trunk after talking to Chase. My pace doubles as I round the hood of the car, then open the door to the backseat and help Kennedy out.
“The only man you’ll ever dance for again is me, the only Valentine you’ll have is me, the only man you'll ever have inside you is me. I’m your beginning, your middle, and your motherfucking end.” I grab her lithe body, picking her up by the back of her thighs then wedging my hips between hers, and hold the fuck on as I take her mouth. The minute my mouth lands on hers, she settles in, hands digging in my hair, holding on, and seeking me out with her tongue. I set the pace, feeling her pussy grind down on my cock. Her heat, her scent, her soft little moans I’m swallowing are only making me want Kennedy more. I’m about to rip her barely-there clothes off and take her with my mouth, my fingers, and my cock.
“Trent.” Her voice vibrates against my chest, nipples brushing along my shirt. Those damn star stickers have got to fucking go. My mouth waters thinking about wrapping my lips around the pebbled tips. I grind my cock along the seam of her slit.
“You like that, don’t you. You couldn’t hate me if you tried, even when I was being a dick, trying to do the right thing. I was dumb, so fucking dumb to ever deny us this,” I admit. I’ll give her an apology later in the form of my mouth between her legs. Fuck, I’ll even spell it out with my tongue on her clit.
“Don’t play with me, Trent. Please don’t play.” She arches her back, offering more of herself to me.
“Not playing, Kennedy. Never again. It’s me, you, and Briar. Now I’m going to make good on my promise. It’s Valentine’s Day, and this is only the beginning.” With that, I press her close to my body, slam the door shut, and walk us inside the house.