“Great! That’s settled then. I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“See you tomorrow.” I don’t look at Ali when I answer. My eyes stay zoomed in on Trey.
She says something else, possibly a goodbye to Trey, but I can’t be sure. The sound of her walking away is my only indication she left.
“I’m going to grab a bottle of water quick. Don’t go anywhere.” There’s laughter in his voice. He doesn’t give me time to reply. He swiftly turns and jogs into the house. Before I can get in a decent thought he’s walking back toward me.
I struggle with taking my eyes away from Trey. When I try, he draws me back in, like a current sweeping out to sea, never to return.
There’s a gentle breeze that moves through my hair, a small strand sweeping across my eyes and hooking onto my mask. Without hesitation Trey steps inward and tucks it back in place behind my ear. His fingertips barely come in contact with my skin, yet it’s enough to cause my cheeks to flush and send my body floating off into space.
I know he feels the connection too, because he doesn’t avert his eyes from me. His gaze burrows, looking straight through me and reading every emotion my body is feeling: Lust, desire, need. His hand eventually finds comfort at my waist, and he doesn’t try to remove it.
“Tell me, Jane Doe, what are you into?” Trey’s voice is barely a whisper. He asks the question with so much interest and yearning to know everything about me.
“I swim.”
As soon as the words fall from my lips, he steps back, giving us space.
“Swim?” His eyes go wide in surprise. I watch his hand reach for the railing, finding a sense of balance.
I nod. “I love to swim. It’s the first thing I think about when I wake up and the last thing before I go to bed. I’m my happiest when I’m in the water.”
He opens his water bottle and takes a few big gulps.
I bite my lip as I watch him set it down and rub the back of his neck. When he looks at me, his eyes are bigger than before. He takes a few deep breaths, and I grow impatient for him to say something.
His finger lightly glides down my face. I feel like a breathless sixteen year old girl who is about to have her first kiss.
“You…” He falters. “You are simply the most intoxicating person I have ever met, yet I don’t even know your last name.”
My heart sinks to the pit of my stomach. I have no idea what made him say that, but hearing those words, and how genuine they sounded coming out, makes me want to know everything about him.
“I feel like you’re asking all the questions tonight. How about you tell me something about yourself. What do you do for fun?”
My question gets me a boyish grin from him. “Well, since arriving here, I’ve taken quite a liking to the ocean and am now learning how to surf.”
My eyebrows raise. “Really?” That explains the tan abs.
He nods. “I, too, enjoy being in the water.”
“Is that so?” I smirk. Dear God, I want this one. I give a silent prayer.
I want him to elaborate more on the swimming, but he doesn’t. “I also like to read and enjoy a good movie,” he adds.
Could this man get any more perfect? “Like what?” I try to calm my beating heart by playing with the fabric of my dress.
He chuckles, leaning back against the railing. His eyes look up into the night sky, his mind going deep into thought. “Oh, let's see. My favorite movie is Sweet Home Alabama, but if any of my male friends ever ask, it’s Gladiator. I don’t want to lose my man card.”
I laugh so loud that I actually snort. His eyes dance with mine. “Sweet Home Alabama? For real?”
“What can I say? I have a thing for blondes.” He gives me a wink and all the air leaves my body. I have to see this man again. “Would you believe me if I said I’ve read every Jane Austen book?”
I nod because somehow I believe it. “Now that I’ve heard what your favorite movie is, there is no reason for me to doubt you.” There’s a hint of amusement in my voice.
He leans in, his lips brushing against my ear. The faint smell of beer on his breath lingers between us. “If any of my friends ask, I’m a James Patterson fanatic. I do like him, too.”
Trey makes me laugh until my stomach hurts and my cheeks want to burst from smiling too hard.
“I’m beginning to think your friends don’t know the real you.”
He swallows. “But you do.” His voice is low. The small rasp from earlier in the night is back.
I can’t help the jagged, painful thoughts that wash over me for not being fully honest about my age or that I’m still in college. A part of me feels dishonest, but I don’t want this moment to end. Whatever this is.
I take a deep breath, pushing away the contemplation. “You’ve made the friend comment twice now. Are you planning on me meeting your friends?”
“Absolutely.” He beams. It reminds me of Mr. Big in Sex and the City when he tells Carrie he believes in love at the end of season one.
Just after one in the morning he offers to take me home. I’m a little reluctant to end our night, but I give in. If I didn’t already think he was a gentleman, he confirms it when he takes my hand and leads the way to his silver SUV parked out front. Once I’m settled in the passenger seat with the smell of leather all around me, I watch him cross the front of his vehicle to the driver’-side door. I lift the neckline of his sweatshirt up to my nose and inhale, trying to soak in as much of his scent as I can. I know the second I get home I’ll need to take it off and give it back, and I want to remember this moment.
When Trey starts the engine, he doesn’t move. His hands grip the wheel tightly, giving him a case of white-knuckle syndrome. Looking over at me, his eyes appear dark and weary. It’s a look that pleads for me to say something to stop him from taking me home.
“Where to?” he asks. His eyebrows crease with disappointment, but his voice sounds hopeful.
“Your place,” I murmur.
***
Trey studies me. The gold in his eyes burns through me, sweeping out every deep desire within me. I sink back into the leather seat as my heart pulsates in anticipation. He peels his white knuckles from the steering wheel, and I hold my breath as I patiently wait. His breathing becomes labored as his lips part, and he leans over the center console so we’re nose to nose.
“Is that what you want?” His voice is soft, barely a whisper. His breath is warm as it lightly hits my lips.
“Yes.” I say the word with confidence. Not too quiet, not too loud. Now that we’ve come this far, there’s no going back.
I lean in closer, willing him to claim my lips once again.
But he doesn’t. He scans my still-masked face and then down the curve of my neck. My dress has shifted up, resting just above the knee. I move to pluck it down, but his hands quickly find mine, stopping me, our eyes locked.
“Don’t hide yourself from me,” he orders. His gaze slides down my body, claiming me.
Ever so gently and with the lightest of touches, his finger glides across my knee and up my leg, igniting the burning ache between my thighs.
“Trey.” I rush out his name with sudden urgency. His touch burns my skin. My eyes drift closed as I soak in his caress.
Just as quickly as he touched me, he backs away. My eyes pop open at the sound of his door opening and closing.
“Trey?” I sit up taller, reaching for the door handle. I’m not sure what I plan on doing. Run after him?
He stops at my door and opens it. “Come on.”
I take his offering hand. His grip is strong, dominant. He leads me across the freshly trimmed lawn. The lady palm trees dance in the wind as we walk by.
“Where are we going?”
He doesn’t answer me. His pace quickens, and I do my best to keep up, tightening my grip around his hand as we reenter the house and cross the living room to the staircase that’s in the back right corner. No one pays us any attention as we swiftly move past them. We take the stairs one
by one, a small creak beneath our feet as we go.
Upstairs it’s soundless, like we’ve just been transported to our very own secret hideaway. We stop in front of a closed door at the end of the vacant hallway. Trey doesn’t stop to knock or wait and listen if anyone is already occupying the opposite side. He enters confidently. Once we’re locked away inside, he finally releases me.
There’s a double-sized bed next to an open window that’s letting in the midnight breeze. A small desk rests in the corner with a laptop, lamp, a James Patterson novel, three different swim magazines, and a large stack of manila folders. To my left is an open archway with a huge walk-in closet that opens into a bathroom.
I walk over to the window, tracing the bed with my hand as I do. The fabric is soft beneath my fingertips. The room smells of him.
“Do you live here?” I ask, looking out the window and into the backyard.
“Yes.”
I whip around, my eyes wide in surprise. “Oh.”
He takes a step forward, the moonlight illuminating his face as he walks toward me.
His left hand finds comfort at my waist as his right hand glides up my side and rests at the base of my neck, his fingers brushing along my collarbone. My eyes close and my head drifts to the side, exposing my neck to him. I can feel his warm breath just below my ear. His lips barely touch my skin. When his lips press more firmly I become lightheaded. My pulse quickens. I know he can sense the effect he has on me because I feel his lips turn upward against my flushed skin.
I moan the second his lips slide further up to my jaw. When he brushes my chin, just below my bottom lip, I lose all self-control. Trey begins to breathe heavily when my hands move to grip his face. Tilting my chin up, I move to lock our lips together. He teases me by backing away a little with a small laugh. My grip tightens and I stretch him back toward me.
He flashes me his dimples just before I crash my mouth to his. My fingers ache as I hold him close, our lips moving effortlessly together. I pick up the pace, my lips moving more hungrily. The urge to touch him everywhere consumes me as we pick up the pace and kiss more frantically. We both can’t seem to get enough. His fingers press firmly into my side, leaving his mark.
His hands move to the hem of his sweatshirt and gently tug it upward. I help him, sliding it up and over my head. I can’t seem to get it off fast enough.
Trey’s fingers coast under my chin, down my neck and my side, across my back and upward, landing on the zipper of my dress. Tiny needle pricks cover my back with his touch. My knees feel weak as my breathing becomes labored.
I gather my hair and bring it over my shoulder, giving him the access he needs. He tugs downward on the zipper. “We need you out of this. Right. Now.” He sinks into the crook of my neck, clasping his mouth onto my skin, devouring me. I shimmy out of my dress and let it fall to my ankles. My strappy sandals follow. Trey kicks them both across the room. A loud bang erupts from the sandals making contact with the wall.
I moan as he gives my shoulder a gentle bite. “Trey.”
“Say my name again,” he commands.
“Trey,” I whimper, relaxing into his body.
His nips and sucks cover every inch of my neck. His tongue comes out and traces my earlobe, sucking it into his mouth and biting down. His touch is enthralling.
My hands tug on his T-shirt. I need to feel his bare skin against mine. He withdraws just enough to take his shirt off. Our mouths reconnect once his shirt falls to the floor. My body quakes with pleasure. He kisses me hard, almost to the point of pain. There’s nothing slow or soft about this. Trey owns me and he sure as hell is letting me know it.
“I want you so fucking bad right now,” he moans into my mouth.
“Take me to bed, Trey,” I order.
In one motion, Trey scoops me up behind the knees, causing me to squeal out. This gets me a deep, throaty laugh from him.
He takes me to the bed, lays me down, and climbs on top of me, straddling my body. I grab his arm and tug him down playfully.
I welcome the pressure of his body as my legs spread open and he nestles between them. Before I can say anything, he reconnects our mouths. His tongue traces my bottom lip. My hands explore his chest, running my fingers up and down against his rippled stomach.
“Take this off,” I beg, tugging on his pant zipper. There’s a burning throb between my legs as his erection presses into me. “I need you inside of me,” I plead into his mouth, as he sucks on my bottom lip.
“Fuck,” he groans.
My lips become numb as he kisses me more forcefully. My hips thrust into him, begging for his touch.
He breaks our kiss. “Like this,” he purrs against my ear, just as his finger pushes my wet lace underwear to the side and plunges them inside of me.
“Yes,” I gasp at the sudden impact. My back arches off the mattress, needing him deeper.
His left hand slides down my chest, setting every inch of my insides on fire. He cups my breast and squeezes hard before sliding the cup of my bra down. He latches his fingers onto my erect nipple, pinching.
I moan out in pleasure.
His fingers never break from gliding in and out of me. “You feel so good,” he growls breathlessly.
“I want all of you,” I whimper, moving my hips at the same pace as his fingers. My vision becomes clouded with pure lust for him. My body never craved for anything more.
“And I want to see all of you.” His fingers slow their pace inside of me. I feel like I’m about to combust under his touch. He sits back on his heels and I cry out at the loss of contact from his fingers. His eyes engulf me.
Hooking his hands under my back, he unclasps my bra and tosses it to the floor. Leaning forward, he sucks one of my nipples into his mouth, and I whimper. His hands rest at the top of my underwear and he begins to rip them down. My hips rise, helping him slide them down my legs.
Once I’m bare before him, he gets off the edge of the bed and yanks my ankles so my body is at the end of the bed. I rest up on my elbows watching him get on his knees and rest before me.
“You’re so beautiful. I want to fuck you with my tongue.”
Holy shit. My knees tremble.
I fall back, sinking into the mattress, letting his scent consume me. My eyes shut as a cool rush of air hits my clit. I wait for his contact, my lips parting in expectancy.
The second the tip of his tongue makes contact, I grip the sheets, balling my hands into fists. His tongue swirls around the swollen bud of my clit and down, sliding inside of me.
“You taste so fucking good,” he groans.
I can feel my face burning. I run my hands up my body and into my hair. I forgot about the mask and I quickly untie it, throwing it somewhere across the room.
“Trey?”
“Hmm?” he hums against me.
“Don’t stop,” I beg.
His hands part my thighs wider, exposing me even more. The pressure builds deep inside as my hips rock against his mouth. My body liquefied beneath him.
“Go for it,” he encourages. He slides his fingers inside of me and sucks on my clit at the same time.
My insides welcome his fingers and my body shudders. My body quivers beneath his touch, electricity jolting through me. His pace slows as my body comes to a rest. His lips press against the inside of my thigh, and he kisses me softly. His gesture more tender and comforting.
He shifts onto the bed and slides back up my body, planting a kiss on my lips. I smile as his body shifts above me. My eyes are heavy, and I have to will them open, still foggy from my orgasm. When I look up at Trey, my smile quickly vanishes.
His body is frozen above me. Trey’s eyes have become wide and vacant. They’re motionless. His face looks ill, like he’s suddenly become sick at the sight of me. He blinks once, then twice.
My heart thumps inside my chest. I try to rest on my elbows, but the pressure of his body on top of me makes it difficult to move.
I brush my hand along his cheek, trying to brin
g him back to me, but his head quickly turns to the side. My hand drops to the bed.
“Trey?” I say, hesitating. I search his face, concerned. When he doesn’t answer, I say his name again.
His head shakes back and forth, and I frown.
“Emma?” When my name falls from his lips, my heart plummets to the pit of my stomach. All heat from my body is gone and shivers take over. The wind has just been knocked out of me.
“H-how?” I struggle to find the words.
He quickly pushes himself off the bed, putting a good distance between us.
“Shit,” he spits. He runs his hands through his hair and begins to pace in a small circle, his eyes to the floor.
“Trey?” I scoot to the top of the bed, bringing my knees inward and grabbing his thick blue comforter to wrap around my now cold body. I’m not sure what the hell just happened, but no matter how many times I say his name he refuses to look at me. When he tries, he quickly averts his eyes. He acts like the sight of me disgusts him.
He rubs his neck raw, continuing to mumble to himself. I can’t make out what he’s saying besides a few fucks and shits.
I watch, unmoved, as he rapidly grabs his shirt and yanks it over his head.
When the door slams shut, I’m left alone, naked and suddenly feeling claustrophobic within the walls of his large room.
***
My eyes gloss over from the humiliation I just endured. Do not cry. Do not cry. I continue to stare at the closed door, stunned. The door frame blurs in and out. I try to push my tears back.
The room no longer feels warm and inviting, like when I first entered. My bottom lip quivers so I quickly bite down, stopping it. I will not cry.
This is so out of character for me. I’m the girl that stays busy with school and work, dedicated to my swimming future. I don’t get involved with guys like my sister or Ali. And I’m definitely not the girl that hooks up with a random guy the first night she meets him, but of course the one night I let my guard down for a pick-me-up, I run him off.