Chapter 18 #2
Careful to make no noise, she slipped on her shoes and straightened her jacket, watching him with only the moonlight to see the relaxed masculine planes of his ruggedly handsome face.
It wasn’t a classic face, but it was chiseled in unrelenting angles that didn’t let you forget who was boss.
There was a sense of command in the way he looked, even when he wore his put-on boyish smile, that Charlie wouldn’t forget it.
The face, relaxed, at peace in sleep, even with the lashes curtaining his closed eyes, held her captive.
She should leave now, not stand here like a dolt watching the hypnotic rise and fall of his muscled chest. Shouldn’t remember the delicious and comforting warmth of sharing his bed, lying next to him in the circle of his heat, one of his powerful arms over her.
Enough. She needed to leave, to get through the bedroom door without waking him, without talking to him, without having to explain why she needed to leave.
Because besides the obvious need to get home, to get to work, there was something more urgent in her that required escape.
Stronger than the desire to stay and compelling her to leave.
She felt at war, with strong emotional tugs tearing at her and no way to escape the battle.
The only thing she could do was continue to fight through it until the end.
She had to play this game she’d set up for herself, play the John Doe card until the end of the trial, the end of the football season.
A shudder went through her, pushing her to move across the carpet to the door.
Tearing her eyes away from him as he lay still and quiet, peaceful, she envied him.
His only concern was for his own skin in the game they played.
Literally tiptoeing to the door, she reached the handle and turned it, slowly until the small click sounded, and then she opened it.
Why had they even bothered to close the door?
Trent must have closed it in the middle of the night, because she hadn’t.
She would leave it open now as she stepped through to the hallway and moved toward the living room as fast as she could, still on her toes, trying not to make noise.
But the flooring here was wood and her shoes made tiny tapping sounds.
She should have carried her damn shoes until she got out.
When she reached the open living area and stepped past the bar that divided the kitchen.
She only had a few more steps to round the corner to the entry hall.
She felt like a cat burglar, making off with jewels.
But the only things she had of Trent’s were his secrets. Far more valuable.
“Stay.”
She jumped and spun around to see Trent standing in the hall behind her, in his boxer shorts and scruffy overnight beard.
Nothing else, save the pleading expression on his face.
That look evaporated whatever compulsion she felt to escape like a laser gun blast to her heart.
She was left standing in a pool of shame and longing, with no memory of her need to flee.
“I . . . I’m sorry I woke you.”
He walked to her, kept coming closer until he touched her, wrapped his arms around her, warm and promising, as she breathed in the heady musky scent of him.
While he nuzzled her neck, nibbled on her ear, making his intentions plain as the hard erection he pressed between them, she tried to keep her mind from scattering.
“Trent, I can’t. I need to be in the office by nine. I need to go home first and check on my mother and sister.” The words were automatic, rote, with no emotional urgency behind them.
He lifted his head, still holding her in the circle of his arms, but looser so that his hard cock wasn’t as insistent. The smile on his face made her suspicious, made her worry that he wasn’t taking her seriously.
“There’s plenty of time—”
“I’m glad you find my obligations so amusing.”
“That’s not what’s so amusing.” He paused a beat, causing her heartbeat to go erratic with concern and a measure of excitement at the mischievous look on his face.
“No?” She concentrated on the scruffy shade of growth on his chin, unable to look at his twinkling eyes, her gut twitching in anticipation, her mind scattering fully in spite of her best efforts.
“No. I find it amusing that you forgot all about the fact that your car is still at the stadium.”
Her eyes snapped to his, panic and horror all out of proportion to what should be a minor detail. Because it meant she was at his mercy. And that was the most dangerous place she could think of being. Heart palpitating wildly, face turning pink, she tried to speak.
“I . . . clearly didn’t get enough sleep last night. I forgot—”
“Don’t worry. I promise to give you a ride. Right after breakfast.”
She looked toward the kitchen, hoping he didn’t expect her to cook. He chuckled, a low and seductive sound that pulled at her belly.
“Not that kind of breakfast, darlin’. I’m planning on having you for breakfast.” He backed up a step and looked her over as if he were a voracious animal. She couldn’t help her nervous attempt to laugh his comment away. She was part annoyed, part terrified. And completely titillated.
“You’re confusing me, Trent. I thought we weren’t going to do this.”
“You don’t look confused. Not really. It’s pretty easy to figure. We have chemistry.” He shrugged. “Why fight it?”
“Because it could compromise our relationship—”
“Darlin’, this is our relationship. Get it out of your head that there are rules about what we can and can’t do. The only rule is that we have to keep our secret. We need to get through the drug trial and the football season without anyone knowing that I’m John Doe. That’s it.”
“You forgot the one other imperative,” she said, and this is what terrified her, this is where the fear of giving into the chemistry came from, fear of getting in too deep, as if sex with Trent were an addictive drug and she was becoming an addict.
“What imperative is that, sweetheart?” He mocked her, but she answered him with deadly seriousness.
“The imperative to keep you alive and healthy.”
He dropped his arms from the circle around her, his face changing from charming wolf to his masking smile, the one she hated. But she saw the tension in him, felt it.
Taking her hand, he tugged on it.
“Let’s go talk about this in the bedroom.
It’s a serious discussion that we both need to be naked for.
Figuratively and literally.” He wasn’t asking.
He pulled her back down the hall to his bedroom, didn’t bother closing the door and didn’t stop until he pulled her onto the bed with him.
Then he opened her rumpled suit jacket and pushed it from her shoulders.
“Don’t I get a say in this?” It was a weak protest because his hands felt so sure and good, and caring as he undressed her.
He shook his head. “No. I’m your ride, remember?
” His eyes reached hers and she saw the dark glassy pool of desire in them.
She knew what kind of talk he had in mind.
The shock of response in her body was instant.
Her blood zipped, heating her body from the center, causing that sensation between her legs, the aching swell rising.
“I could get an Uber . . .” She breathed the words, telegraphing her state of arousal.
“Shut up, Charlie. Let me enjoy my breakfast.” He pulled her blouse open and slipped his hands inside her bra, holding her breasts, squeezing them as he pushed her back on the bed, covering her.
His face was a breath away from hers, his eyes sexy intense.
She wanted to say something, to tell him she wanted him, but he’d told her to shut up. Absurd.
“I want you, Trent.” She murmured the words.
“I told you to shut up.” He smiled. She found a laugh, playful and light, escaping her. His thumbs rolled over her nipples and back, transforming her laugh into a moan, an aching, needy moan. Aware that she was still almost fully clothed, she pulled at her skirt, trying to get to her panties.
“I’ll take care of undressing you.” He lowered his lips to hers, caressing, pressing the moist flesh of his mouth against hers, playing his tongue lightly against hers, nibbling her lower lip, and nipping it with his teeth.
Then he lifted from her and stood in front of her where she lay sprawled on his bed amid the messy sheets and comforter.
The thought that he was a magnificent specimen of a man floated through her giddy mind.
But when he lowered to his knees and pulled her legs up over his shoulders, all thoughts disappeared.
All her nerve endings snapped to alertness, and her blood rushed straight to the pulsing mound between her thighs.
She could feel the swell, the pooling of moisture to the point of dripping as Trent moved his mouth down her belly, as he licked and rained light sucking kisses over her hot sensitive skin, causing her to tremble.
She found her fingers threaded through the thick waves of his hair, felt herself parting her legs all the way as he pressed his mouth lower, teasing her with kisses to her thighs.
Her back arched and she moved her hips up as she strained with need, impatient to feel his mouth and tongue on her clit.
The vibration from his laugh at her impatience calmed her, brought her back to herself.
“Trent.” It was all she could say as he clamped his hands around her buttocks, positioning her in front of his face as if she were his meal on a plate.
He looked up at her then, his eyes so full of passion and drive and relentless need, all aimed at her.
She felt her heart palpitate as she stared back at that face, the one she’d only ever seen before aimed at football. God help her.
Then he bowed his head and put his lips on her, a light kiss to the swollen folds of her pussy making her jump. He paused a beat. Then he darted his tongue, separating the folds, and stroked her clit in a quick circular motion.