by Zoey Parker
“And I have a new father-in-law!” she said, sending out her best and brightest smile.
If Trent was anxious about this situation, he didn’t need to worry. Sam had been born and bred to navigate situations like these. Not cons, exactly, like this one – but social situations involving a certain tact. A certain grace. A certain… social conviction that only someone with a set of pearls and perfectly glossy hair would manage.
Her mother and father had trained her to be a socialite. And she knew how to socialize better than anyone.
Sam launched into a lighthearted conversation with both Lucas and Darla, keeping the attention off of her and Trent while she giggled and exclaimed and inquired politely about her “new in-laws”. She filled every moment with more pleasantries and good-natured conversation. Trent seemed grateful. Darla, however, seemed to sink deeper and deeper into some sort of black cloud. By the time dinner came, she was practically scowling.
“Matthew, baby,” Sam murmured, reaching out to touch his wrist after he’d taken his first bite of steak. “How’s your food? I know you’re a sucker for these rib-eyes.”
He nodded while chewing, locking eyes with her. She couldn’t help but smile. At the very least, all of their interactions were real. Nothing forced there.
“Delicious. We need to come here more often, babe.” He reached for his beer, which had been served in a tall glass. “I don’t take Sam out enough.”
“Well, you’re just always busy,” Sam said, swatting at his arm before digging into her own meal. She’d ordered a stuffed crab. The most expensive thing – again. “Trust me,” she added to Lucas and Darla, “he does plenty for me. Don’t let him fool you. He’s just a hopeless romantic.”
Trent sent a private smile her way before taking a swig of beer. Hopeless romantic? Words were just tumbling off her lips. But it was fun to pretend. To act like they had a history that spanned years instead of days.
“Wish you were more like your son,” Darla finally said.
“Darla,” Lucas said, an edge to his voice.
The more the dinner went on, the more it became clear that Lucas and Darla were hanging by a thread as a couple. It confirmed Sam’s theory – Lucas was probably gunning for a divorce but needed to find a way to get the money out of his possession safely. The two of them couldn’t have been more visibly unhappy. And after a few choice comments from Lucas, Sam decided that she didn’t care that Trent was helping him with this fraud.
It was his life, his choice. And it wasn’t like Lucas and Darla were shining examples of humanity anyway. She just couldn’t quite wrap her head around the idea that she was siding with the conman. But when the conman was Trent… and kept sending her smoldering glances between bites… it was hard not to be on his side.
Dinner came to an end, and Sam was exhausted from keeping this lighthearted train going. She was more than ready to head home and slide out of her fancy clothes.
As Lucas paid the bill, he glanced up at Trent.
“You know, we need to make this a more regular thing,” he said, pen scratching as he signed his name.
“That’d be great, Dad,” Trent said, setting his cloth napkin on the table.
“Each week,” Darla said suddenly. “You two need to see each other every week. While the paperwork is being processed.”
Lucas squinted at her. “Each week, honey?”
“Yeah, of course. You haven’t seen your son in years.” She gestured toward Trent. “Why wouldn’t you want to see him each week?”
“Well… it’s not that I don’t want—”
“It just seems to me like a father and son who haven’t seen each other in so long would want to catch up,” she said, crossing her arms.
Lucas’ nostrils flared, but he didn’t give any other sign that he was upset. He smiled at Trent.
“What do you say, Son? My wife is right. Just doing this every once in a while isn’t quite enough for me. Let’s meet every week. But not just while the paperwork transfers. Every week until I’m too old to walk. What do you say?”
Trent ran a tongue over his teeth before looking over at Sam. “Babe? You cool with that?”
There was fire in his gaze. She could tell he wasn’t having it. None of it.
Sam’s stomach plummeted, but she kept up the easygoing grin.
“That sounds like a great idea. We have so much to catch up on. All of us.”
Chapter Thirteen
The group went through the goodbye motions – forced hugs, claps on the back, the slow walk toward the door. Only once they were safe in Trent’s car did he let the real reaction rip out of him. The anger that had been bubbling up. The feeling like he was the one getting fucked over in this deal after all.
“Fuck it!” He slammed the steering wheel. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
Sam only sighed.
“I’m calling this asshole tomorrow,” Trent said, starting the car. “Dinner was nice and all, but I’m not doing this shit for forty more years.”
“It’s something with the wife,” Sam said. “I kept trying to engage her, but she just wouldn’t crack.”
Trent ground his jaw as he looked over his shoulder, easing out of the parking spot. Sam had given it her all at dinner. That, at least, was one thing he was grateful for.
“You were fucking awesome, by the way,” Trent said, some of the anger dissipating. At least temporarily. “I would have probably had to leave early if you weren’t there.”
“Yeah well…” She sent a winning grin his way. “This is what I’m good at.”
He snorted. “Not the only thing you’re good at though.”
“Are you trying to tell me I’m good at sucking cock?”
He wet his bottom lip, his dick twitching at its mention. His hand wandered over to her side of the car once he pulled into the slow-moving traffic. “Yeah, actually. That head you gave me today was fucking killer.”
“Well, there’s more where that came from,” she said in a sultry voice, snatching up his hand.
She brought his fingertips to her lips, then took his middle finger into her mouth. Her tongue danced feather-light over the length of his finger. He grunted.
“Fuck, Sam.” He pressed too hard on the brakes, and the car jolted. She laughed. “I can’t think when you do that.”
“Guess I’ll just save it for when we get back,” she said.
He pushed his hand over the silky material of her dress, between her legs, seeking out that sweet heat.
“Give me just a little preview of this tight pussy then,” he said, pushing his fingers into her panties. He moaned when his fingertips brushed against the velvet heat of her pussy. “Fuck. You don’t know how bad I want to fuck you right now.”
“I have some idea,” she said breathily, moving her hips against his fingers as he teased her clit. “It’s been less than a day since we last fucked but I neeeed it.”
Trent had never been more eager to get someplace in his life. By the time they pulled into the parking lot of her apartment complex, he was stumbling out of the car. He picked her up and tossed her over his shoulder, enjoying the way she kicked and laughed. He smacked her ass – hard. She wiggled it in his face.
“Do that again,” she said after she’d handed him the keys from her purse.
He pushed into the apartment, shutting the door behind him. He didn’t let her down though.
He gave her ass a hard thwack.
She shivered.
“I never knew a spank could be so sexual,” she murmured.
He tugged the skirt of her dress up, revealing the black thong that bit into her ass cheeks. He hummed low with appreciation, his cock at full attention.
“How about this?” He cracked his hand against her ass cheek again, watching the flesh jiggle.
She squeezed her thighs together, moaning.
“I need you to fuck me,” she said, voice raw. “Right now.”
Trent headed straight for the bedroom and tossed her gently onto th
e bed.
“Look at this cock.” She purred, smoothing her hand over the bulge in his pants as he undid the buttons of his shirt.
Sam undid his belt buckle while he shimmied out of his shirt. His pants crumpled around him, and he carefully stepped out of them, conscious of their quality, of how much he’d just spent. Sam had his boxers down next. Her lips around his cock would be great, but he wanted to bury himself balls deep inside her first.
“Lay down,” he barked, taking his cock in his hand.
She did as she was told, then he flipped her onto her stomach. He bunched the dress up over her hips, loving the view from above, her creamy ass cheeks, round and on display in that lacy black thong. He ran a finger under the material where it crested her low back.
She shivered again, fisting the comforter.
“Please, Trent,” she moaned.
He kneeled on the bed, his cock aching for the feel of her stretched around him. But this time, he wanted to feel it without any barrier. He brushed his cock along the crease of her ass, then wiggled his hips, so his cockhead traced the folds of her pussy.
Sam arched her back, hiking her ass up into the air. “Pleeease.”
Trent ran his finger under the scrap of fabric between her ass cheeks, following it until his finger met the drenched fabric between her legs. Sopping wet. For him. He pushed the scrap of fabric aside, fingers meeting the slippery folds, and then he pinched that tight nub between her legs.
She shuddered. “Yesss.”
Trent grunted, aligning himself. He pushed his cockhead forward, the fat tip slipping almost too readily inside of her.
“You like that?” He stilled, flexing only slightly, so his cockhead teased her. In, out. In, out.
She nodded furiously. “Give me more,” she demanded
“Aren’t you just hungry for this cock,” he said, then sunk himself inside of her, as hard and deep as he could go.
His vision went spotty for a second, the unexpected pleasure of being unsheathed and fully enveloped by her hitting him with full force. He almost lost his breath. This woman was divine.
“Fuuuuck,” she wailed. “Fuck me, Trent!”
He gripped her by the hips, pulling back and then sinking in. This angle was his favorite. It seemed like he could reach even deeper parts of her. He back up a little onto his heels, tugging her with him. She was like a rag doll in his grip, totally compliant, soaking wet and wanting it. He started a pummeling rhythm, one that meant he had to dig in and keep her there or else he’d fuck her right off the side of the bed. Sam quaked and moaned and cried out as he fucked her, as hard as ever.
She came fast, and it was no wonder. He had a hand buried between her legs, thumb on her clit. Her pussy pulsed and squeezed around him, and then suddenly he was coming too. It was a surprise attack, and he couldn’t pull out before some cum had leaked out inside her. The rest of his juice spurted up into the air. Right onto her dress.
“Fuck,” he said, chest heaving. He collapsed beside her, burying his lips in the hollow of her neck. “I came on your dress.”
She grunted, shaking her head. “I don’t fucking care.”
He grinned. “So it was that good again?”
“You can come on all my clothes if you want. Just fuck me like that all the time.”
He laughed, rolling onto his back. It didn’t get old hearing stuff like that. Not from someone like Sam.
A few moments of pleasant silence drifted by, and then he had more to say.
“I didn’t use a condom,” he said.
“I know,” she said, rolling onto her side. “That’s why it was so fucking incredible. I don’t think I can go back now.”
“I’ll pull out,” he promised.
A lazy grin overtook her face, and she traced her fingers over the lines of his pecs. The more her fingers drifted over his skin, the more his dick took notice. And it seemed the fire in her eyes returned as well.
“Sounds like a plan. Now, what do you say we go for round two?”
Chapter Fourteen
The next day was a Saturday, which meant no work for Sam. She needed the rest – after all the fucking she and Trent were doing, it would have been hard to pull herself away. Besides, she wasn’t sure she could walk anymore. With this man filling her to the brim multiple times an hour, from every angle possible, she wasn’t sure there was a spot on her lower half that wasn’t bruised.
She yawned, stretching out in the bed. They were under the covers this time, at least. She checked the bedside clock. Noon. Trent stirred beside her, his manly scent wafting up to her.
“Morning,” he grumbled, peering at her through one eye.
“Morning,” she said. “Or should I say afternoon. Did you sleep well?”
“As well as I could with your endless appetite for fucking,” he joked, rolling onto his side. He yawned, peering at the clock. “Shit. It’s late.”
“It’s okay. I’ve got nowhere to be.”
“So, what’s on deck for today then?” he asked, toying with the chain around his neck.
She shrugged. “Food, definitely. And I was thinking we could head back to the mall.”
His face fell. “Again?”
She laughed, wanting to pinch his cheek. There was so much about Trent that was cute. Sure, he was sexy, a handsome devil who could bring her to her knees, but he had a softer side too that she was enjoying getting to know. A side that made her belly flop.
“If I’m supposed to be your wife,” Sam said, “Then I’m gonna need a ring. Hope you’ve got some cash stored up because we’re going ring shopping today.”
Trent didn’t react immediately, which made her wonder if she’d pushed it too far. But finally, he said, “Yeah. That’s a good idea.”
“Bet you never saw yourself buying a ring, huh?”
“Not in a million years.”
Sam nodded, trying to memorize the small features of his face. The laugh lines by his eyes. The strong, masculine nose. The hint of stubble already showing on his jaw.
“Yeah. I’ve always wanted the big fancy wedding, but over the past few years, I realized I’m probably not gonna get one.”
“Why not?”
“Well, my dad’s broke, for one.” She laughed, but it died off quickly. “And I just don’t know if that idea of Prince Charming works for me. I always thought it was what I wanted. But I dunno. It might not be.”
“Well, Matthew sure seems like Prince Charming.”
“Yeah. You hopeless romantic.” She shoved his broad shoulder.
“Trust me, nobody has ever said that about me before. You are the first.”
“You could be a hopeless romantic,” she said, finally giving in and pinching his cheek. “I see it in you. It’s just buried down there, way deep.”
“Nah. I don’t do romance and that shit. I just know how to fuck.”
She sighed. “Yeah, you do.” A quiet moment drifted by. “You’ve never had a girlfriend before?”
He shrugged. “Sorta. Maybe once.”
“What do you mean ‘sorta’?”
Trent rubbed his eyes. “I mean, I dated a girl for a while, but she cheated on me, and I fucking blew up, so I figured it was probably better to never get into that again.”
Sam nodded, dragging her fingertip over the swell of his bicep. “Yeah. That sounds like it would suck.”
“I don’t need anyone.” He yawned again, rolling away from her.
“Me neither,” she said, but the words didn’t come out as strongly as she’d hoped.
It was true – she’d wanted a Prince Charming her entire life. It just seemed the way of things. But after the curves her life had taken, and the lackluster string of dates, hookups and letdowns she’d experienced in her adult life… she severely doubted anyone was out there. Nobody that could light her up, excite her, and satisfy her.
She wasn’t down for vanilla. She wasn’t down for boring. And so far, that’s all she’d come across in life.
Until Trent
.
The two of them meandered through the early afternoon lazily, at exactly the pace they desired. Sam made French-press coffee while Trent showered. Trent offered to scramble eggs while she showered. Then they ate together on the living room floor, taking turns feeding each other, laughing with every other bite.
It felt a little too idyllic. Which is why Sam fought to remind herself, at every possible turn: This is not a romance. This man was hired to scare you. He works for the Sokolovs.
