4. Katerina
Katerina
My eyes pulled open to sunlight filtering through the blinds and the unmistakable, mouth-watering smell of bacon and toasted sourdough.
I stretched lazily under the duvet, my body still aching from the nightmare bus ride through yesterday’s blizzard.
We hadn't pulled into the arena parking lot until nearly three in the morning, and I’d stumbled into my house so exhausted I hadn't even bothered to wash my face before collapsing into bed.
The bedroom door clicked open, and Trent walked in.
He was wearing worn jeans and a dark t-shirt; his hair looked like he'd been running his hands through it, holding a wooden bed tray, one I was fairly certain I didn't own.
On it sat a plate of scrambled eggs, crispy bacon, sliced fruit, and a steaming mug of coffee.
I sat up, pushing my wild hair back, a surprised laugh catching in my throat. "Good…”, I looked at the clock, realizing it was barely still morning, “ … Morning. Where did you get a bed tray?"
"My mom," he said, his voice lower and raspier than usual. He set the tray carefully across my lap, then sat on the edge of the mattress.
He was staring at me. Not just looking, but watching me with an intensity that made my pulse jump.
His dark brown eyes tracked every tiny movement as I reached for a fork, looking almost consumed by whatever was going on in his mind.
I swallowed hard, taking in what I could only assume to be raw heat from a man who had obviously missed me and had a long night of worrying about me on a frozen highway.
"You look exhausted," he said quietly, his hand reaching out to smooth a stray lock of hair behind my ear. His touch was so careful, so deliberate. "Did you sleep okay?"
"Better now," I murmured, taking a bite of eggs. "This is amazing, Trent. You didn't have to go through all of this… you don’t have to serve me breakfast."
"I wanted to," he replied, his thumb lightly brushing across my jawline. "I hate thinking about you out on those roads by yourself. You shouldn't have to handle everything on your own, Kat."
My heart softened, those words from Robin and Stacey echoing through my head: Let him love you.
I finished half the plate before setting the fork down. I looked at his broad chest, at the flex of his arm as he leaned against his knee, and a wave of heat rolled straight through me. "I need a shower," I whispered, my eyes locking onto his. "Come with me?"
A muscle clenched in his jaw. "Kat, you're tired… you should finish your food and…"
"I missed you," I interrupted gently, reaching out to take his hand, pulling his fingers to my lips. "I want you."
The tension in his shoulders snapped. He set the tray on the bed beside me and took my hand, leading me into the ensuite bathroom.
The steam filled the room, turning the glass enclosure into a warm, foggy sanctuary. When Trent stepped under the hot spray with me, he didn't rush. His hands were everywhere, rinsing the shampoo from my hair, soaping my shoulders, tracing every line of my skin as if he were trying to memorize me.
Before I could pull him closer, Trent sank down to his knees on the tiled floor.
I gasped as his hands gripped my thighs, his mouth pressing against my wet skin with a desperate quality that took my breath away.
He kissed and nipped and licked me. His hands slid up to my hips, his grip firm but not bruising, keeping me exactly where he wanted me.
Trent brushed his nose across my clit, pulling a whimper out of me, before looking up at me, mist heavy in the steamy shower and holding my eyes while he painstakingly slowly slid his tongue out and circled my throbbing nub.
My nipples were hard peaks. I trailed my hands through his hair and up to my breasts, knowing that he loved when I played with myself.
Trent growled into my pussy, moving one of his hands from my hip, between my legs and slowly sliding a finger in my as he used his thumb in coordination with his skillful tongue.
“More,” I moaned, feeling so close to the edge.
And Trent delivered; he ravaged me until my legs trembled and I had to hold on to his shoulders to stay upright.
And when I thought he was done, he didn't just stand up; he lingered.
His hands moved around to my back, and then warm lips pressed a slow, reverent kiss to my hipbone, moving across my abdomen with an agonizingly tender gentleness.
He pressed his mouth right below my belly button.
A soft, lingering kiss against my lower stomach, his warm palms pulling me even closer, as if he couldn't get me close enough, like he were holding something fragile.
He held the kiss for a long moment before slowly tracing a line of soft kisses up my abdomen, past my ribs, up to my chest.
By the time he stood to his full height, I was climbing him like a tree, wrapping my legs around his waist as he pinned me against the smooth tile.
When he slid into me, it wasn't just physical.
It felt like a conversation without words.
Passionate, deep, and heavy with a silent promise.
I moaned and gasped, the physical and emotional sensations overwhelming me.
Trent swallowed my sounds with a passionate kiss.
And as he continued to thrust into me, with languid, long, loving thrusts, I squeezed my eyes shut, holding onto him tightly, convinced that this was his way of speaking when his reserved nature kept him quiet.
He loves me, I thought, the realization washing over me like a warm tide.
This is how he says it. And when we came apart together, Trent resumed his sweet kisses as he cleaned me off again.
Afterward, wrapped in thick towels, we walked back out into the bedroom.
I sat on the edge of the bed to finish drying my legs, smiling up at him as he pulled on a pair of boxer briefs, his dark hair still damp and curling at the ends.
Trent gestured toward the bed tray sitting on the nightstand. "You didn't finish your food. Or check under your napkin."
I blinked, confused. "Under my napkin?"
"Yeah." His voice was noticeably tight, a nervous edge cutting through his usual calm.
I stood up and walked over to the tray. Pushed to the side, beneath the folded linen napkin, sat a small, dark red velvet square box.
My breath hitched as my hands shook before I even touched it.
I lifted the box, turning around slowly.
Trent was down on one knee on the hardwood floor.
Hair still dripping, wearing only his boxers, looking up at me with an expression of pure devotion.
He swallowed hard, gently reaching out to wrap his fingers around my wrists and grounding my trembling hands.
"Trent..." I whispered, the air entirely leaving my lungs.
"Katerina," he began, his voice thick with an emotion so intense it vibrated in his chest. "You spent your whole life having to be strong. Having to handle everything by yourself, having to build a life on your own. But you don't have to do that anymore."
He reached up, opening the small velvet box to reveal a breathtaking solitaire diamond that caught the light.
"I'm here," he said, looking straight into my eyes, his dark gaze pleading with me to hear him. "You have me now. You have my family, and are never, ever going to be on your own again, Kat. No matter what happens, no matter what comes at us, I will always take care of you. I'm in this for life."
He said everything. Every promise of security, every oath of protection, every vow of belonging.
He said everything… except I love you.
He looked so anxious, his jaw tight, his chest rising and falling as he waited for my answer. I looked at the ring, then at the man kneeling in front of me, a man who had spent the last months showing up for me and treating me like I was the most precious thing in his universe.
My friends' words chimed softly in my head: Some men don't show love with words, Kat. They show it with actions.
He wasn't missing the feeling; he was just a man of action, stepping up to build a home for us because he didn't know how to give grand speeches.
The last wall around my heart crumbled into dust. A tear slipped down my cheek, and a wide, helpless smile broke across my face.
"Yes," I breathed, dropping to my knees right in front of him on the floor.
Trent let out a long, shuddering breath, his shoulders dropping as if a massive weight had just been lifted off him. He slid the ring onto my finger, his hands shaking slightly, before pulling me tightly against his chest.
I wrapped my arms around his neck, burying my face in the curve of his shoulder, smelling the clean soap and warm skin.
"Yes," I repeated, pulling back just enough to frame his face with my hands. I looked into his dark eyes, letting every drop of warmth and trust I’d been holding back spill out. "I love you, Trent."
Trent froze for a fraction of a second, his eyes widening almost imperceptibly before his arms tightened around me, burying his face in my hair.
"You have everything that I am, Kat," he murmured into my skin, his voice tight and heavy. "Always."
I smiled into his shoulder, slipping my hand into his damp hair, completely convinced that I had just secured my forever.