Chapter 49
CHARLOTTE
I’d never seen Trent look well and truly stunned before. Usually, he was the very definition of composure, steady, calm, but firm, the kind of guy who could walk into a vicious bar fight and end it with a single raised eyebrow.
But right now, he was utterly frozen. Happily, not in fear or hesitation. This looked like pure, wondrous awe as he stared down at me like he was afraid to blink in case it wasn’t real. Finally, he seemed to remember how to breathe, his hand tightening on my waist.
“Say it again,” he murmured, his voice so low that it was almost rough. “Say. It.”
I smiled a little wider, breathless and a touch overwhelmed at the look in his eyes right now. “I love you, Trent Shepard. Did you really not know?”
He didn’t answer me, letting his forehead drop to mine instead, and I felt the smallest shake in his muscles.
It was barely there, but it was still enough to make my heart do an Olympic-level cartwheel.
Then he kissed me like the words had unlocked something in him that he’d been holding back for months and couldn’t anymore.
I kissed him back, slow, deep, and tender, my fingers sliding into his hair as heat curled low in my stomach. He whispered between fierce kisses, “I love you, Charlotte. God, I love you so fucking much.”
It kind of felt like he needed to say it as many times as it took to undo every scar on my heart, and maybe part of me needed to hear it that many times too. The storm outside kept tapping at the windows, but the room was warm and cozy, like a cocoon.
Right now, it didn’t feel like the external world existed. There were no expectations on either of our time, no Gregory-shaped pressures or societal demands. Just Trent, his hands, and the way his body folded over mine like he’d been built for this moment.
For me.
He kissed my jaw, my cheek, and the spot just below my ear that made my breath catch. “I love you.”
This time, he whispered it even softer, like it was either a confession or a vow. I tugged him closer because suddenly there was no such thing as close enough.
“When you said you had some ground rules, you realize you sounded like a bossy, cowboy hero, right?” I brushed my thumb along his lower lip. “Every time you’ve said it, that’s all I’ve been able to think about. I figure it’s about time you knew that.”
He shook his head, chuckling as those deep blue eyes blazed into mine. “Seriously? I was trying to keep us both sane and you were fantasizing about me being a hero?”
I gave him a smug, wicked little smile. “Hey, you still love me. You’ve said it three whole times already, so no takebacks. No matter what fantasies I may or may not have.”
“Three? Try twenty.” He kissed me again, like he wanted to savor me or memorize the shape of my lips. “I’m not stopping anytime soon either. I’m going to say it at least twenty more times before you fall asleep.”
My heart stretched wide in my chest, suddenly feeling too big for its own walls. He was touching me like I was something precious and breakable, but also something he knew wouldn’t shatter under his hands.
Loved, but not coddled. Cherished, but not controlled. Seen in a way I had never been before.
He rolled us gently, not rushing or demanding, but shifting until my body was completely covered in his. The weight of him settled over me and I let out a sound I hadn’t known was on its way out.
“I never thought I’d get this,” I whispered before I could stop myself.
He lifted his head, deep red eyebrows pulling together as he studied me with that quiet intensity of his. “Get what?”
“This,” I said. “You. Us. A future I actually chose.”
His expression softened and he leaned down to brush a kiss just above my collarbone. “You’ve always deserved to choose. To have anything and everything you want.”
I laughed softly. “I used to think I wasn’t built for that.”
“You’re built for everything good,” he murmured, kissing the other side of my neck with a tenderness that felt reverent. “You just never had anyone who saw that.”
“Until you.”
He didn’t answer, just kissing me again with long, lingering strokes of his tongue. Heat spread through me, growing steadily with every glide of his lips and every sweep of his hand along my waist.
All the while, he breathed “I love you” against my skin like a prayer. I stroked my hands along the ridges of muscle in his back, taking off his shirt and moaning shamelessly whenever I felt a sound bubble up in my throat.
With him, now, I had no more fear of disappointing someone or not being enough. I felt completely safe in his arms, in my own skin, and with my own dreams. He made me brave enough to be completely secure in who I was, and it was a pretty awesome feeling.
As he kept kissing me, my whole body arched into him and I felt his breath catch just slightly, his muscles tightening beneath my palms. He groaned, kicking off his shoes and whispering my name in a low, desperate way that made heat pool between my legs.
“Charlotte,” he repeated, and I suddenly realized that it wasn’t just a moan anymore. He wanted to tell me something.
I blinked my eyes open. “What’s wrong?”
As I asked the question, he rolled my shirt upward and over my head before returning to me, pressing his forehead to mine as he caught his breath. “I, uh, I think we’re out of condoms.”
My heart stuttered, my pulse tripping over itself. I shook my head slowly from one side to the other. “What?”
He groaned. “Contrary to what you might think, I don’t actually have a never-ending supply.”
Breathless laughter bubbled out of me, but I didn’t let go of him. “God, Nate was right.”
“Nate?” He screwed up his nose. “Why the hell are we talking about your brother right now?”
“Because he told me to make sure that I keep some of my own,” I explained quickly, wrapping my arms around Trent and pulling him down on me fully. “Needless to say, I didn’t listen, but, uh, I’m ready to go without.”
His body went limp with shock, settling over mine with the weight of him anchoring me, surrounding me, and lighting up every nerve in the best way. For a long minute, he just lay there, breathing hard with his heart pounding so violently that I felt it against my own chest.
“Do you want—” he started eventually, his voice soft and careful.
I cut him off with a kiss, smiling against his lips. “Yes, I do. I want you, Trent, and you’re my husband, so…”
His exhale was shaky and his hands slid along my sides with a tenderness that made my heart feel too full. “I love you. I love you, Charlotte. God, I love you.”
“Say it again,” I whispered.
He did, over and over as we undressed each other.
I said it back every time, meaning it deeper and deeper, letting the words melt between our mouths and our fiery kisses.
When there was finally nothing left between us, the broad tip of his cock pressed against my entrance and he shuddered, his pulse slamming under his throat as he stared down at me.
“You’re really sure about this?”
“Yes. You?”
The laugh that came out of him harsh and husky. “Are you really asking me that right now?”
I shivered when he pressed into me just a fraction, my eyes already begging to roll back into my head. “Of course, I am. It’s a risk we’re both taking. Not just me.”
“I’m clean,” he gritted out immediately, blinking rapidly like it hadn’t even occurred to him to mention it until now.
I smiled, even though everything in me wanted to just start moving. “I didn’t doubt it, but so am I.”
“I didn’t doubt it,” he echoed against my lips, inhaling a deep breath that made his chest expand against mine. “As for the other risk we’d be assuming, I’m ready.”
Tears jumped to my eyes, burning the backs of them. I nodded and pressed my heels into his ass to urge him inside. “So am I, Trent. Nothing would make me happier.”
He let out a noise that was part animal, part moan, then thrust into me hard but kissed me gently, the juxtaposition between joy and desperation in both of us fusing into a mix of slow, intentional loving and wild roughness.
Not rushed but urgent. The wet drag of him against my insides with nothing between us sent sparks through me from the very first moment, the heat of his shaft unlike anything I’d ever felt before.
“Fuck, Charlotte,” he groaned against my ear, his breathing choppy and his hands on my breasts as he flipped us over.
He pinched my nipples, his brow furrowed as he stared up at me. “That’s incredible.”
“Yep,” I agreed lamely, too far gone to stop moving or even to joke about riding him like the cowgirl I hoped to become.
Honestly, my insides were already on fire, pleasure coiling low and tightening every muscle in my core. Panting and halfway to seeing stars, I ground on top of him, moans spilling out me until he half sat up and pressed his lips to mine so he could swallow them instead.
Both of our movements became more frenzied, our breathing louder. My world narrowed until there was no more storm outside and nothing other than him. Then an orgasm crashed into me, cresting until it felt like I was flying.
Trent shuddered against me, his release a hot rush I could actually feel deep inside this time, and the sensation triggered a series of aftershocks so intense that I screamed.
When it all finally quieted, warmth settled deep in my bones and Trent pulled me into his chest, holding me like he never planned to let go.
His hand traced slow patterns up and down my spine, his breath ghosting across the bare skin of my shoulder. “Are you good?”
“I’m perfect,” I whispered, my lips brushing his skin. “I love you.”
He tightened his arms around me. “I love you too, and I’m, uh, I’m going to need to do that again real soon.”
I chuckled, turning my head to tuck my face against his throat. “Yeah, me too. Five minutes?”
“Ten,” he countered jokingly as I breathed him in, letting the rise and fall of his chest calm something deep inside that had still been trembling.
We stayed like that, our limbs tangled together and with him still inside me, until my eyelids grew heavy and my heartbeat slowed. For the first time in my entire life, I wasn’t following a path someone else had laid out for me.
I was choosing my own and I was choosing him. As I drifted toward sleep, my thoughts flickered briefly to my mother. A soft, bittersweet ache filled my chest. It wasn’t sharp, more just an awareness of her absence in a way I hadn’t felt in a long time.
I knew she would’ve been happy for me. Proud of me. Thrilled that I’d chosen love above status. So many times when I’d been a little girl, she’d told me that, above all else, even more important than being a Westwood, was being true to your heart.
My heart had led me here, to Trent’s arms and to a love that had chosen me back. A love that had fought for me, and as Trent whispered one last, sleepy I love you against my hair, I finally let myself believe I deserved it.