CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
ROGER
That was brilliant. The only disappointment being that Marshall wasn’t there to see Trina tell his buddies to piss off and then leave with me.
However, waving him off and watching his face turn to thunder was enjoyable enough.
Part two of my plan is now underway.
The entire night has been awesome. Seeing the surprise and fury on his face when we walked in was brilliant.
I can’t tell you how much I nearly laughed out loud. What I can’t explain was why I pretended I didn’t know him. It just happened really. I saw the confusion on his face, and I suppose it added to the game. I like that it had him guessing himself while I had full access to Trina.
Her attention, not her body.
That’s about to change. Now we are alone, and I get to decide what happens. The end result being that Marshall will find out and spend the rest of his life being haunted by the fact he walked away and left her with me.
Trina is pretty. Not my usual type.
Still, pussy is still pussy...and it’s sweet revenge.
“Where are you staying?” Trina leans forward to work out where we are headed.
“In town. Do you mind if he drops me off first?” I ask.
She shrugs. “Okay, sure.”
Something happened when she went to the bathroom earlier. Marshall disappeared at the same time, so I suspect they had an argument.
Oh dear, how sad.
Then she wanted to leave. I knew I had to intervene. After all, I didn’t want to be at the stupid fucking party. I was there to fuck with Marshall, but he’d gone.
When Josh Black stepped in I thought there might be trouble. I wasn’t going to fuck with the SEAL, but I was standing there like an idiot, so I had to say something.
He’s a big fucker, just like Marshall. The last thing I need right now is a handful of broken bones or to end up in the JAG office.
Thankfully, she stalked off and I followed. Now we are alone and all I need to do is get her up to my hotel room.
“I had fun tonight.” I take Trina’s hand. “Thanks for inviting me.”
“Sure.” She carefully moves her hand away. “Sorry, just not feeling that great. Might’ve been the seafood at lunch.”
Liar.
I lean back in the seat and ponder how I do this. Trina is a strong woman with a smart mouth. I don’t want to have to see her again before driving the stake home, so to speak.
My eyes drift over her long, bare legs and make a decision. Yeah, I need to fuck her to get the maximum impact.
Marshall needs to learn that he shouldn’t have fucked with me.
We pull up outside my hotel and I twist around.
“Come upstairs and I’ll make you a ginger tea for your tummy. I can’t let you go home on your own feeling so sick.”
Trina’s eyes dart around. “Listen—”
“No funny business. I promise. I don’t feel like we got to talk much tonight.” I brush the hair over her shoulder.
She squirms in her seat, then glances outside the vehicle. To my surprise, she nods.
I thought that it was going to be much harder.
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TRINA
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GODDAMN BLADDER. I’m absolutely busting to pee and with no panties on and still leaking Marshall’s come, I really need to use the bathroom.
I accept Roger’s invite out of pure desperation but if I see one in the lobby I may just shoot in there first.
Then sneak out.
“Just a ginger tea,” I say and use both hands to hold my purse so he can’t hold my hand as we cross the lobby.
Clenching my core as we ride up in the elevator I try hard to ignore his hand resting in the small of my back and his stupid story about his mom giving him the concoction when he was a kid.
I can’t think about him at the moment. I. Need. The. Toilet. Right. Now.
Roger swipes his card when we get to his door, and I dart into the bathroom.
“Sorry. Busting.” I yell out and lock the door.
I plonk down and let out a sigh.
Unfortunately, I can see myself in the mirror and my god, I look a mess. My hair is fluffed up in that just fucked look, and the fact that it was with a different man than the one I’m in a hotel room with right now makes me feel extremely slutty.
I’m here for the tea. Fuck. No, I’m here for the toilet.
God I’m drunk.
I drop my face into my hands and draw in a long breath.
I wonder what Marshall is doing right now. Where did he go? Is he mad at me? If I called would he speak with me?
I’m a little annoyed that he broke my trust and looked into my past, finding out about my dad. But at the same time, I want to curl up in his arms and tell him everything. To share how horrible it was and ask if he’s been scared while on tours.
I want to know about his family and if they worry and how that makes him feel. Does he have a brother or sister?
Suddenly I’m super aware how little I know about this man. And how much I want to know.
I really want to know.
I tug my phone out of my pocket and swipe, pulling up our messages. The last one he sent a few days ago said:
Miss you little wolf. I wish your body was plastered against mine and your lips on mine.
Damn him.
I’m super aware that I shouldn’t be here in Roger’s hotel room. I need to go home and call Marshall, and together we need to discover if there is something serious between us.
If he hasn’t given up on me.
Taking Roger to the party tonight was a dick move on my part. I used him as a barrier but all it did was make a complete mess of things.
I’m not sorry for fucking Marshall in the bathroom. That was some hot and wild sex.
Not sorry at all.
The way he moves my body and pleasures me with such dominance and skill causes a small smile to sneak onto my lips. Damn him. I have this stupid urge to see him.
To kiss him.
To have his hands—and that clever mouth of his—all over me again.
I need to get out of here.
“You okay in there?” Roger calls through the door and I cringe.
“Yup.” I flush, wash my hands, then step into the hotel room. “Kind of.”
He hands me a glass of something, and I politely take it.
“Oh, thanks.” I sip and it’s gross.
Why does he even have it with him?
“Drink up. I didn’t have time to boil the water, but cold still works.” Roger guides me farther inside and the urge to run gets stronger.
I quietly sip the tea taking in his modest-sized hotel room. A king size bed, TV, and balcony. The usual.
He sits on the end of the bed and my heart starts slamming inside my chest in warning. I take a big sip and then put the cup on the TV cabinet. Then rub my stomach.
“You know, I think I should just go home. I feel terrible—”
Roger reaches out his hand and tugs me toward him.
“Hey—”
“Not yet.” He grabs me and tosses me on the bed as horror fills my every cell.
“The fuck!” I shove at him but he’s much larger and covers me with his two hundred and something pounds. “Roger. Get off me!”
A hand snakes up my leg, the other gripping my face. “Let’s silence this fucking mouth.”
What feels like a ball of socks is shoved inside my mouth and panic completely consumes me. Thrashing around, I do all I can to get him off me.
With no panties, his hand easily gains access to my flesh as I tremble in fear and try to scream.
“What a dirty bitch.” Roger laughs, shoving his fingers inside me. “Have you let Marshall taste you yet?”
Oh god help me.
My eyes close as I attempt to block out the invasion, tears pouring down my face.
He thrusts them in and out, holding my hands so I can’t fight.
No. This can’t be happening.
Leaning down he sucks my nipple over the red silk of my dress, and I cry out, lifting my hips, and continue thrashing. All it does is make his fingers sink deeper.
“Like that huh? I knew you’d be a wild fuck.”
I glare at him and he laughs.
“Tell Marshall that he shouldn’t have fucked with me. Or I will fuck what is his.”
What is he talking about?
I thrash around more.
“Jesus you’re dry. Let me get some lube.” When he climbs off me, he reaches out and quickly ties my hands together with what looks like a military issue belt or tie.
All I see is khaki.
Everything happens fast. Trembling, I lay there, my eyes darting around the room trying to think.
Leave.
Run.
Get out of here.
As Roger digs through a bag, and my brain finally kicks in, I reach up and pull the socks out of my mouth.
Hope springs as I start to sit up.
“I don’t think so, little slut.” Roger pushes me back and undoes his pants, ripping off his shirt. Then taking his eyes off me again, unscrews what I guess is lube.
I almost vomit when I see his engorged cock.
When he moves between my legs absolute fear takes control. I lift my leg and slam my foot at him, catching him right in the dick.
Roger screams, falling back on the ground.
After a split second of shock, I scramble off the bed, falling and tripping.
“The fuck. Get back here. Fuck! My fucking cock.” He cries.
The pumping of my blood pounds in my ears as I race to the door. Faster. I have to move faster. With my hands tied, I stumble around trying to pull the lever down and open it.
Then I hear him behind me, his heavy feet thundering on the carpet.
No!
If I don’t get out of here, I know without a doubt he’ll rape me and utterly destroy me.
Tell Marshall that he shouldn’t have fucked with me. Or I will fuck what is his.
“Trina, you fucking bitch.”
Click.
The door unlocks and I yank it open...but catch it on the tie.
“No, no, no!”