Part-Time Husband (Trophy Husbands, #1) Page 8

  Possessive.

  I want him to touch me like that.

  I want him to touch me even more.

  He finally tears his mouth away from mine and leans down to nip at the pulse in my throat. I give a sharp little cry and arch myself against him.

  My knees buckle then, so I grab at him for support. He wraps his arms around me with a low, brief chuckle.

  “Bed,” I say. “We need the bed.”

  “Yes. The bed is exactly what we need.”

  I’m all set to turn and head toward it, but he reaches down to lift me, and I wrap my legs around him instead. He carries me to the bed and yanks down the covers so he can deposit me on the sheets.

  As any sensible woman would in this situation, I grab a handful of his shirt and pull him down on top of me.

  I don’t exactly know what’s come over me at the moment, but I know I can’t be stopped. I spread my legs apart to make room for him and lift my hips to grind against his weight. I love how he feels. Lean and solid. Warm and firm. All raw energy and hot need and sharp intensity and even more.

  He’s alive. More alive than I’ve ever known him.

  At the moment, he’s gazing down at me, and his brown eyes are deep and hungry and somehow smiling at the same time. “You sure about this?”

  “Yeah. Oh yeah.”

  “And you’re not going to beat yourself up about it in the morning?”

  “I make no promises about the feelings of my future self, but I can’t imagine regretting this at the moment. But if you’d rather subject me to an interrogation than fuck me, you go right ahead and pursue this line of questioning.”

  He laughs, and his body shakes against mine. It’s the sexiest thing. “Fair enough. I’ll turn my attention to fucking rather than the interrogation.”

  Despite his words and his laughter, his eyes are still strangely watchful, as if he’s still searching for something in my face.

  It unsettles me.

  I don’t want it to distract me from Trevor’s hot body between my legs, so I pull him down into another kiss.

  This strategy works, and Trevor stops talking.

  He takes control of the kiss almost immediately, making it slower and more intentional. I knew those amazing lips would be paired with some real talent, and he doesn’t disappoint me.

  Trevor knows what he’s doing with his mouth. It’s not long before I’m flushed and boneless, squirming beneath him as I grow increasingly eager. He’s hard against me. I can feel the hard bulge in his pants pressing down into my belly.

  He wants me. Trevor Bentley wants me.

  As much as I want him.

  When the throbbing ache between my thighs can no longer be held back, I slide my hands down and try to squeeze them between our bodies so I can reach the front of his pants.

  This causes him to break the kiss and rear up his head. “Fuck, baby,” he gasps. “Slow down.”

  Evidently he’s one of those guys who calls a woman “baby” in bed—it’s not my favorite endearment, but it’s sure as hell better than “babe.” It’s not the endearment that catches my attention, however.

  “Did you just tell me to slow down?”

  His face twists briefly, and his hips do this little rocking thing, like they’re momentarily out of his control and have to make a few clumsy little thrusts against me. I like it so much I bite back a little moan.

  Then I remember what he said. “You actually told me to slow down?”

  “Not to be bossy, but if your hands kept going where they were heading, then this would be over in about two minutes.”

  I stare up at him, trying to figure out if he’s being ironic.

  “I’m totally serious,” he admits. “I’ve been wanting you for a long time.”

  “You have?” I try to make my mind work well enough to think back and recall any signs, but all I can see is day after day of his cool, smug, ironically amused face, voice, eyes. Despite his characteristic attitude, he’s been pretty good to me overall. I like him a lot more than I ever thought I would. But he never acts like a man hiding some sort of raging lust.

  He acts... like Trevor.

  My chaotic thought processes yield no results, but thinking isn’t really what I want to do at the moment. “Since we’ve been married?”

  “At least that long.” Then he closes the distance between us in another kiss.

  This one is light. Teasing. Almost tender.

  I mumble against his mouth. “You really want to go slow?”

  He’s starting to kiss his way down my throat. “Not too slow. But I’m not about to give you any reason to complain about my performance. I’m going to take care of you first.”

  “Take care of...”

  My last words are swallowed up in a hot wave of excitement.

  Trevor takes off my top and then peels off the dark jeans I wore to the cookout. Had I known we were going to end up in bed, I’d have worn something easier to take off.

  He manages without any trouble though, and his eyes rake up and down over my body, now wearing nothing but a black bra and matching panties.

  “Jesus,” he breathes.

  It’s not like any compliment I’ve ever gotten before, but I decide it sounds pretty good.

  I pull him back down to me by his shirt when his hungry gaze starts to make me self-conscious.

  I’m not used to Trevor looking hungry like that, and it awakens jitters in my belly. So I kiss him to distract myself and make him stop staring.

  He obliges but doesn’t linger at my lips. He trails his way down my body, kissing me all over, spending a lot of time on my breasts after taking off my bra and then moving even lower.

  As he’s kissing my belly and caressing my thighs, there’s no way I can keep my hips still. He’s close. So close. And the pulsing of my arousal seems to be calling for him, beckoning his mouth.

  He slides off my panties and parts my legs. Then he raises his head to meet my eyes.

  “Oh God, Trevor, don’t make me say please.”

  He gives me a smile that’s almost wicked and leans down to give me a quick lick, just glancing off my clit.

  I buck up off the mattress and stretch my arms out to grab fistfuls of the sheet. It’s a tightly fitted sheet, so there’s not a lot of give. There’s not a lot to hold on to, but it will have to do because I’ve got to hold on to something.

  Trevor slides a finger inside me, and I’m so wet it’s almost embarrassing. He smiles slowly and adds a second finger before he lowers his head again.

  He’s as good with his tongue as he is with his lips, and his fingers feel full and tight inside me as he starts to pump them. Almost immediately the beginnings of an orgasm tighten, and I need something better than the sheet to grip as the pleasure builds.

  I reach down and tangle my fingers into his hair, clutching at him as he works me over.

  I toss my head as he takes me closer to release and bite my bottom lip to hold back my moans and whimpers.

  At one point everything is feeling so good and my climax is so close that I gasp, “Oh God! Trevor. How are you doing this to me?”

  His mouth is busy working, so he only answers with a wordless grunt that sounds approving. It’s a rhetorical question anyway.

  Just then he turns his head to scrape his teeth gently against my inner thigh. I lose the bite on my lip and let out a choked cry. I’m trying to ride his fingers now, rocking shamelessly into his hand and mouth.

  Then he sucks hard at my clit and I come, my whole body shuddering with the pleasure and my body clamping down so hard around his fingers that it threatens to push them out.

  Trevor is smiling as he straightens up, wiping my moisture from his mouth with the back of his forearm. And I’m sprawled out limp and breathless and deliciously sated.

  “Don’t gloat,” I tell him. “Smugness isn’t appropriate at the moment.”

  “Oh, I think a little smugness might be appropriate just now.” He’s moving up my body until his head i
s on the level of mine.

  “Nope. It’s always obnoxious. Particularly right now.” Despite my words, I’m smiling at him. “Thanks for that.”

  “You’re welcome.” He leans forward to kiss me lightly. “As I said, my motivation was selfish. I’m not about to give you cause to disapprove of my performance.”

  “I don’t really think that’s likely to happen.”

  He’s still smiling as he rolls over on top of me, adjusting my thighs to make room for himself between them. He kisses me more deeply, and I wrap my arms around him, and it’s so nice. Skillful and leisurely and oddly decadent. His body is tenser than it was before, and he rocks his hard arousal down against me. He’s still wearing his pants, and I’m getting tired of not being able to touch him all over.

  I grab the ends of his shirt and drag it up until he has to straighten up and raise his arms so he can get it off over his head. Then I stroke his chest all over and slide my hands down to the button at the top of his pants.

  “You’re not going to tell me to slow down this time, are you?”

  “No chance of that.” His breath hitches as I unzip him and reach in to stroke his erection through the fabric of his underwear.

  “Jesus,” he breathes.

  Thrilled at his reaction, I try to push down his pants, but he ends up getting off the bed to strip them off with his underwear before he moves over me again. I like the looks of him all over, and I stare breathlessly at the hard length of him.

  “Are you going to say something?” he asks, a lilt of irony in his tone. “A polite compliment? A backhanded comment? An ode full of awed admiration?”

  I can’t help but stifle a laugh. “An ode to your dick?”

  “Is that really too much to hope for? I’ll get you started. Thou still unravish’d shaft of breathtaking length and girth.”

  My amusement spills over into helpless giggles, and it’s a minute before I can stop.

  Both of us are smiling as he kisses me again, and as he does, I reach between our bodies so I can take him in both hands. He grunts against my mouth, his body tightening even more. “You’re killing me, baby.”

  “Then you better do something else with this because otherwise I’m not taking my hands off it.”

  “Do you want me to use a condom?”

  “I’m on birth control, so unless you have some sort of disease...”

  “No disease.”

  “Good. Me either.” I bend my legs to raise my knees around his hips. Both of us are naked now. When he doesn’t move immediately, I add, “If you don’t get going, your shaft of breathtaking length and girth will remain forever unravish’d.”

  He chuckles appreciatively as he repositions himself, holding on to my one of my thighs and guiding himself in with the other.

  It’s been more than a year since I’ve had sex since the men I like have never been terribly eager to ask me out. So he feels particularly big inside me. He moans against my ear, and I try to relax my body around him.

  “Shit, baby,” he says after a minute. “You’re so...”

  “I’m what?” I feel tight and hot and so good.

  “You feel so good.” He gives his hips a few slow rolls, and this time both of us moan.

  Then he withdraws and thrusts in again, and my back arches up involuntarily, like everything inside me is straining toward him.

  “That’s right, baby.” He’s holding himself up on his forearms, so his arms are bent at the elbow and his face is very close to mine, his breath blowing against my hair. “That’s so good. I want to learn your body. Show me what makes you feel good.”

  I’m not usually much for conversation in the bedroom, but his rasped words are really doing it for me. Jolts of pleasure run out from where we’re joined, and my inner muscles tighten around him.

  “Yes. You like that, don’t you? I’m going to make you come again. So hard.”

  I’m totally into this now, and my fingers are dragging lines down his bare back. But there’s a certain kind of arrogance from him that cannot go unanswered. “Maybe. But I wouldn’t hold your breath.”

  He lifts his head to give me a narrow-eyed look.

  I smile blandly. “I’m just saying. It doesn’t always happen.”

  “Well, it’s going to happen this time.”

  “You think so?”

  “Oh yeah. I think so.”

  He leans down to give me a kiss that’s oddly sweet, almost tender. Then he readjusts his body onto his knees, raising my bottom from the bed as he moves. He holds me in place, and my legs dangle on either side of him. My helpless position makes a hot wave of carnal pleasure slam into me.

  He rocks his hips against me, building up a fast, steady thrusting that shakes my whole body. My hands fumble for purchase on the sheet as my body responds.

  When the pleasure intensifies, I turn my head to the side, trying to tuck my face against my shoulder. I’m biting my lip hard because everything is feeling so good.

  Trevor might be smug, but he’s right about this. I’m definitely going to come again.

  “You’re holding back on me,” he mutters, soft and rough as his body moves against me, with me. “Show me. I want all of it. Don’t hold it back.”

  As if his words snapped a cord inside me, I arch my neck and let out a long, uneven groan.

  “That’s right. Let me see. Give me all of it. I want everything from you.”

  He’s fucking me hard now, and I need it, want it, am mumbling out how much harder I need it from him. The bed is jiggling like crazy, and I’m vaguely afraid the people downstairs might be able to hear us.

  The sound is shameless. Utterly physical.

  And that’s exactly how I feel.

  “You’re so close now,” Trevor rasps. “Just let go, baby. You can trust me. I’ve got you. You can let go.”

  I’m almost sobbing as I fall over the edge. As I shake and arch and moan, Trevor lets out a loud bellow as he falls out of rhythm.

  He’s reached climax too. I know it. I’ve come down enough to open my eyes so I can see.

  He’s channeled everything into it now. His face is damp, his features twisted in effort. His body is jerking as the spasms of his release work through him. He’s saying something under his breath. “Yes, baby, yes.”

  I feel him come inside me, and he holds the position for a few seconds longer. Then he lowers my butt back to the bed and collapses onto the mattress beside me.

  It’s a while before I can catch my breath, but I manage to turn my head and smile at him. “Oh my.”

  “That’s what you’re telling me? Oh my?” He’s flushed and relaxed and as winded as me. He’s also a lot sweatier. But his eyebrow arches up in that smug, questioning look.

  I snort. “Is there a problem with ‘oh my’?”

  “It doesn’t feel... big enough.”

  I giggle. “Your shaft of length and girth—”

  “Breathtaking length and girth,” he corrects.

  “Right. Your shaft of breathtaking length and girth did a pretty good job.”

  He’s smiling, and it’s not even his normal dry half smile. It’s a real one, and it makes my heart do a silly little skip. “I guess that’s as much of a compliment as I can expect.”

  “Well, I can’t waste any words. I’m still trying to breathe. You may have to take me to the emergency room. I can just hear the conversation I’ll have to suffer through. I’m sorry, Doctor, but I got fucked so good and came so hard that I might have had a heart attack. I need to be hooked up to a machine before he does it to me again so I’ll be ready next time.”

  He chuckles. “To tell you the truth, I might need the machine too.”

  I’ve been sprawled out naked and feeling no pain, but I’m starting to notice how wet I am between the legs—from both his fluids and mine. I squeeze my thighs together. “I’m going to get up now.”

  “Okay.”

  “I mean it.”

  “I believe you.”

  I groan and make
myself roll to the edge of the bed and haul myself up. I grab my clothes as I make my way to the bathroom. After I pee and wash up, I put on my pajamas and go into the kitchen for two bottles of water.

  Trevor is still stretched out on the bed naked, but he accepts the water with a lazy smile.

  Despite his relaxed expression, I see him watching me closely.

  “I’m not beating myself up about it already.”

  “Good. Just checking.” He gets up also to get ready for bed, and I turn on the television and flip to the news.

  We watch TV for a while, but I’m tired and unusually relaxed, so I fall asleep faster than normal.

  The sex was good. I enjoyed it, and I’m sure Trevor did too.

  I’m not going to work myself up into a tizzy about it.

  For once, I can just let something happen.

  As I close my eyes, I don’t have even a flicker of regret.

  Five

  THE NEXT MORNING IS Sunday, so I sleep in until almost seven.

  I know. I know. By most standards, this isn’t sleeping in at all, but I naturally wake up early, and once I open my eyes I have to get up.

  Trevor is still sleeping when I awaken this morning. He’s on his back with his head turned toward me. I stand beside the bed watching him for a minute, and I experience the strangest pressure in my chest.

  He looks almost young with his eyes closed and his lips slightly parted. He’s got the covers up to his shoulders, but one of his arms is resting on top of them. His fingers are lightly fisted in the fabric of the comforter.

  There’s no trace of the confidence, the cockiness, the irony, the intelligence on his face right now. He’s just a man asleep in his bed.

  I’m not sure why this makes me feel so fluttery, but I do my best to shake it off.

  I can’t believe I had sex with him last night.

  I never planned on doing it, but it doesn’t feel like a huge problem now that it’s happened. Both of us wanted it. Both of us enjoyed it. And our interaction in bed wasn’t all that different in tone than our interaction out of it.

  It doesn’t seem to change our situation in any significant way.

  I wonder if he’ll want to do it again.