Chapter Nineteen
VIVI
The drive takes exactly nine minutes, but it feels like hours with Trey’s hand draped over my thigh the whole way, his thumb brushing the bare skin where my dress has ridden up.
He doesn’t say much, and neither do I, but the air in the SUV is thick with all the things we’re going to do once we’re inside.
We hit my street and my pulse spikes. The moment the garage door closes behind us, we’re out of the car—his door slams, then mine, then he’s there, taking my keys from my hand like I can’t be trusted to manage a lock right now.
I barely get the door shut before he’s on me.
Lips, teeth, hands—everywhere at once. My back hits the wall, my purse slides to the floor, and his mouth crashes into mine like we’ve been holding this in for years instead of weeks.
“You’re sure,” he rasps against my lips, already dragging the hem of my dress higher.
“If you stop now, I might actually die, and then you’ll have that on your conscience forever.”
That earns me a low chuckle, and then I’m being walked backward through my own place, bumping into furniture as we kiss like we’re trying to ruin each other.
We lose the rest of our clothes in a blur.
My bra clasp snapping under his fingers until I’m only in my thong.
He shoves his jeans down and kicks them across the room, giving my hands access to him.
He’s thick and hard, and when I wrap my hand around him, his head drops to my forehead with a curse.
“Wait until I get you to the bed. You touching me like that could end this all too quick,” he warns.
“We wouldn't want that to happen,” I say. He shakes his head. “Shower first? I’m still sweaty from dancing all night.”
“Oh yeah…we can make that work.”
He grins and then lifts me up, carrying me upstairs to my bedroom, just like he told me he would the night we first kissed.
My arms wrap around his neck, my lips not leaving his for a single second.
I feel weightless in his arms, completely protected, like there is nothing in this world that would make him drop me.
By the time he walks up through my bedroom and into my bathroom, he’s stripped out of his boxers, and I’ve lost my ability to form coherent thoughts at the sight of him.
It’s not the first time I’ve seen him completely naked, every inch of bare skin covered in muscle, tattoos scrolled all over him, a set of dog tags dangling around his neck.
He reaches past me and turns on the water and lets it run while he takes a knee and painfully slowly hooks his fingers into my thong and pulls it down my thighs to my feet. I step out, and then his mouth is on me again.
Steam begins to billow from the shower, the water warm enough now.
He lifts me back up before stepping into the shower, pinning my back to the tile.
The first kiss in the water is deeper, wetter, hungrier, and when his hands slide down to cup my ass, lifting me, I hook my legs around his waist without thinking.
His mouth leaves mine to trail down my neck, teeth scraping lightly before his tongue soothes over the spot. “Been thinking about this all night,” he says against my skin. “The way you moved against me out there…”
“Trey…” My head falls back when his hand slides between us, fingers finding me already wet.
“Fuck, you’re ready.” He kisses me again, slow and deep, while his thumb circles my clit. His other hand braces me against the tile, holding me exactly where he wants me as his fingers work me with steady, deliberate pressure.
I gasp into his mouth as the rhythm builds, my hips rolling helplessly. The heat from the water and the heat from him blend until I can’t tell which is making me dizzy.
Every stroke of his fingers feels more deliberate now, his thumb circling with just enough pressure to have my thighs clamping tighter around his waist. The slick slide of his skin against mine under the spray is maddening. All muscle and heat and control.
He drags his mouth from mine, kissing along my jaw and down the column of my throat, letting the water pour over both of us. His teeth scrape lightly at the hollow of my neck, and I swear my knees would buckle if he weren’t holding me up against the wall.
“You feel that?” he murmurs, curling his fingers inside me until he finds the exact spot that makes my breath hitch. “Right there?”
I nod frantically, nails biting into his shoulders as another wave of heat coils low in my belly. My head tips back against the tile when he does it again, this time with his thumb keeping perfect rhythm against my clit.
The steam makes my skin hypersensitive. Every droplet that trails down my body feels like it’s pulling me closer to the edge. His chest is pressed so tight to mine, I can feel the steady thud of his heart, matching my own erratic pulse.
His lips find my ear, breath hot despite the mist between us. “You’re close. I can feel you shaking.”
I am. Everywhere. My legs, my stomach, my voice when I try to speak and only a broken whimper comes out.
He grins against my skin, slow and wicked. “Let go for me,” he says, voice low and rough.
The command breaks me. My back arches off the wall as I come, hard and fast, clutching at his shoulders like he’s the only thing keeping me upright. My thighs tremble around his hips, water streaming over us as every nerve ending sparks.
He keeps his fingers moving, coaxing me through it until the sharp edge fades to a slow, delicious throb. Then he eases his hand away, holding me close while I bury my face in his neck, breathing him in under the steam.
He kisses my temple. “The shower worked, didn’t it? Do you feel cleaner now?” he teases.
“There was nothing clean about what you just did to my body. That was dirty through and through, and you know it,” I say.
There’s a glint in his eyes and a smile across his lips that tells me he enjoyed every moment of it…and so did I.
“Fair enough. Then I guess I get to wash you up.”
He reaches past me for a loofa and my dragon fruit body wash.
“I’ll do you—you do me,” I tell him, grabbing my second loofa.
“That is the idea,” he smirks.
After we finish washing up, Trey steps out and grabs big fluffy towels for both of us from the bathroom cabinet. He slides one around his waist and has one open and ready for me to step out of the shower and into.
He wraps me up as soon as I step out.
His hard cock tents his towel, and I know he must need a release just as bad.
“Maybe we should take care of that,” I say, gesturing to the towel.
“I’ve never agreed more with anything in my life.”
I barely have time to towel off my hair before he takes my cue, catching me around the waist and guiding me backward toward the bed.
The room smells faintly of my shampoo and the steam we carried with us from the shower.
The low light catches on the drops still clinging to his shoulders, running down over muscle and ink.
His smirk fades when I sink to my knees between his legs, pulling his towel down until it crumples around his feet.
“Vivi…” There’s a warning and plea in his voice.
His cock twitches at the anticipation, and he jerks gently when I take him into my hand.
Then I guide him to my lips and open wide for him, taking him fully into my mouth without breaking eye contact.
The taste is familiar and new all at once—my dragon fruit soap from the shower still lingers on his skin, but underneath is salt, heat, and the faintest trace of him that makes my pulse jump.
I sink lower, my lips stretching around him, and he tips his head back with a low groan.
My hand works in tandem with my mouth, stroking slowly, even passes as I suck him down like a straw. His fingers slide into my hair, not forcing, just holding, guiding, like he can’t help but need that connection.
My mouth waters at the feel of him filling me, the steady weight and heat pressing against my tongue. I’m already wet again, my body primed and eager just from the way he reacts.
“God, that’s good,” he rasps, the roughness in his voice scraping deliciously along my nerves. “So good.”
I love the way he enjoys my mouth. Watching a man like Trey—all controlled force and unshakable presence—melt under my touch is intoxicating.
Seeing him like this, his breath hitching, his grip tightening…
it gives me a rush I didn’t know I craved.
It’s not just turning him on—it’s undoing him. And it makes me greedy for more.
When I swirl my tongue over the head, his fingers tighten in my hair. “Stop.”
I pull back, lips tingling, a little taken aback. “You didn’t like—” I’ve always been confident about this part of me, about knowing what I’m doing.
“I liked it too much.” His voice is gravel and heat as he reaches for his jeans, tearing into a foil packet with his teeth. “I’m not coming until I’m inside you, and the way you took me down your throat…I wasn’t going to last much longer. You’re very talented with that tongue.”
I wipe the saliva from my mouth, pulse still racing, content to bask in the rough edge of his praise.
His praise still hums through me when he rips open the condom with his teeth, the sharp sound loud in the quiet room. My pulse stutters. There’s nothing casual about the way he rolls it on, no teasing, no delay, just a man with intent.
“Up here,” he says, his hands firm on my waist as he guides me onto the bed.
The sheets are still warm from the shower steam clinging to our skin. I lean back against the pillows, watching him come over me like a shadow, all broad shoulders and heat. He settles between my thighs, his hand sliding up the inside of my knee until my legs open without thought.
His hand slides between my thighs, and I jolt when his fingers find me, already slick. He strokes lazily, circling my clit just enough to make my hips lift, but never quite giving me what I want.