Scar

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Scar Page 7

by A. M. Brooks


  “This really is a magical place,” I say under my breath. I turn toward Trent so we’re face to face. His hands lock behind my back, so my whole front is pressed against his. My head tilts back, so I can look at his gorgeous face. His blue eyes deepen until they match the color of the sky. “I’m really glad I came.”

  He nods, his hands sliding up until they are cradling my face. “Where did you come from, Scarlet Reyes?”

  I smile, feeling vulnerable under his gaze. Before I open my mouth to say anything, he dips his head down and angles my face to receive his kiss. Stars go off behind my eyelids, my hands fly up to his waist to center myself, while Trent kisses me deeply, passionately, and possessively. As if my lips were made for him, he trails his tongue along the seam, opening them to him, invading my mouth with his tongue. Sparks shoot all over my body and warm my skin. I move in as close as I can get, pressing into him. A moan escapes my mouth, and he pulls back, just as breathless as I am. Holy fuck. I’ve never had a kiss like that. Trent moved the earth beneath my feet. Our gazes collide and it feels like a meteor shower explodes around us. What did I just do?

  I hardly sleep that night. I know the plan was to get involved with Trent and eventually find something my father can use to get his revenge. Now I kissed him and everything feels different. My body is restless and my heart is beating chaotically in my chest. I want to turn my back on my father, while at the same time, I know this last job means freedom for eternity if I can manage to pull it off. I can’t be locked away by him for the rest of my life or, worse, end up dead. If I fail, I have no doubt my father wouldn’t hesitate in selling me off to the highest bidder. The more I prove my worth, the more I gain a modicum of control of my future.

  The first signs of daylight and we’re all up and packed to get back on the road. Trent is insistent I ride with him today too. The kiss shifted something between us. The air crackles with a tension that makes me want to squirm in my seat. As if he is now in tune to my feelings, Trent gives me a knowing smirk. Even behind his sunglasses, I can feel his eyes roaming all over me. Once he pulls onto the highway, I play all his favorite songs today, and once again, he keeps my hand in his, resting it on his thigh. Every so often, he raises our joined hands to his mouth and grazes his lips over my knuckles.

  When we reach California, my stomach drops. I’m so close to home and yet a world away at the same time. He doesn’t say it, but I know Trent feels the same way. Even when we talked about his family, he avoided saying anything about his home town of Araminta or what his life was like there. I was dying to know his past and how he got mixed up with my father. Raul Alverez is cruel and despicable. Everything I’ve seen and read about Trent tells me he’s the opposite. I can’t wrap my head around the person he was and the man sitting next to me.

  The house Dean rented is, again, on the outskirts of where the races are being held in San Diego. It’s small, intimate, and has a pool and Jacuzzi in the back yard. The house is beautiful and totally something I would live in everyday if I could. We go about choosing rooms, and Trent eyes me when Evita pulls me with her to a room for us to share. My cheeks heat, while he watches us walk away. Part of me wonders what would happen if I stayed with him while the other part of me believes some distance is better.

  The guys have two free days before the series starts and we make as many plans as we can. I let Trent take me to the USC campus the first day, while the others check out the zoo. We walk around campus and check out the science and engineering building, where the majority of my classes would be located. After a few hours, I’m not feeling it. It’s not calling to me like I imagined it would.

  “I’m ready to go when you are.” I turn to Trent and give him a small smile.

  “You don’t want to check out the dorms or anything?” he asks, his brow quirking.

  I shake my head sadly. “I’m not really thinking this is the one. The campus is beautiful, don’t get me wrong, and the building is huge, but I just don’t have that ‘this is it’ feeling.”

  “Huh,” he nods, and we keep walking, “I never thought of that about colleges, I guess.”

  I turn my neck to look at him. “You didn’t look at colleges?”

  He shakes his head. “Nope. I left home my senior year of high school and flew to Florida to live the motocross dream. I was already being scouted and AfterHours had already expressed interest in me. I signed my contract and the rest is history.”

  “Do you regret not having the experience?” I ask. Trent is twenty-one now and easily could be graduating college in another year if he had gone.

  “I don’t,” he says shrugging. “I’m a firm believer that it isn’t the path for everyone. My calling was riding, and I’m living my dream. If college is your dream, you should make sure that you’re at your dream campus. At least you can scratch one off the list, right?”

  I nod in agreement, soaking in his words. I want to call him out about it. I can’t help but wonder if he stopped thinking about college because of what happened. If he hadn’t been involved with my father, would Trent’s life be different?

  We leave campus and drive to a shopping mall close to the house we’re renting. I tell Trent it’s so I can find a few more casual tops since I’m stretching my vacation out. Really, it’s so I have a few minutes to check in with my father. I do end up buying two new shirts and then we leave. Driving around town, with Trent’s hand in mine, feels natural. I can almost believe we’re a real couple just out running errands or something.

  When we get back to the house, the others aren’t home yet. I put my bags away and find Trent in the kitchen. “Want to help with the kabobs?”

  “Sure.” I wash my hands and walk over to the makeshift cooking area he created. We each take a stick and he shows me how to assemble the meat and veggie kabobs. “When will everyone be back?”

  “Sam’s text said they plan to leave around six,” he says shrugging.

  I help clean up while Trent puts our finished products in the fridge until everyone gets home later. They already smell so good; I can’t wait to eat them.

  “We have about an hour,” Trent turns to me, “want to go for a swim?”

  “Yes, meet you out there,” I call, while dashing up the stairs. We haven’t had an opportunity since we’ve been here to swim. On our first night, everyone got in the Jacuzzi but that was it. I race to the room I share with Evita and put on my favorite white two-piece before grabbing an oversized t-shirt, throwing it on as a cover up, and heading outside. Trent beat me and is already swimming from one end of the pool to the other. I stop short when he makes it to the edge and his eyes find me. Water droplets slide down from his chin to his bare chest, grazing the tattoos sprinkled throughout, before they disappear back into the pool. His hair is darker from being wet, and he runs a hand through the top, making it look messy and wild. My heart rate quickens. That shyness tries to creep up and I shove it back down. Pulling the t-shirt up over my head, I enjoy the moment of power I seem to have over him, his eyes tracking every bare piece of skin I show him. I want to high-five myself when I manage to make it to the stairs leading into the pool, without tripping over myself. Somehow I manage to hold his gaze even while heat is flooding my body and settling in my core. It finally dawns on me that we have the house to ourselves and I have very mixed emotions about it.

  Trent seems frozen in place, and once my chest is submerged in the water, I glide toward him. He still hasn’t taken his eyes off mine and the feeling in my chest is squeezing around my heart. I feel mesmerized by him and needy. I like him watching me. I love that I have some type of effect on him. The water is cooler than I expected, but it does nothing to take the edge off the heat sliding under my skin. When I finally reach him, Trent smirks and pulls me flush against his chest, grunting from the heat of my skin against his. My hands land on his shoulders. He uses his hands to guide my legs around his waist to keep me afloat. I look down and notice he’s standing. Damn, tall people. He laughs at the look on my face.
/>   Walking us over to the edge, Trent turns me so that my back rests against the side of the pool. He looks relaxed, holding me there, while my body dangles weightless between his hard body and the pool. His hand comes up and cups the side of my face, almost adoringly as “you’re beautiful,” tumbles from his lips. Nervous, I duck my head before being able to meet his gaze again.

  “So are you.” A giggle escapes past my lips when he gives me my favorite smile. The full-blown effect takes my breath away.

  My eyes dart down to his full lips, and I push myself forward, swallowing his groan when I kiss him. I may have started this kiss, but soon, Trent controls it. He shoves me back into the edge of the pool, both his hands coming up to hold my face to his, while he kisses me hungrily, biting my lips to open them. His tongue darts in, tangling with mine, possessively. I grip his shoulders, pulling him as close as I can get him. My legs tighten on his waist, until I can feel his dick grinding into me and I’m a puddle of feelings and heat. He moves his lips down my neck, kissing and sucking the skin below my ear until shivers run down my arms and my pussy is throbbing in response. My hips buck against him and he groans against my skin, his arms squeezing tighter around me.

  Trent pulls back and gives me a smoldering look. Holding my gaze, his eyes intense and turning midnight blue, his fingers dance along the seam of my swimsuit. This time, I groan, my lower half undulating under the water, seeking contact from his touch. My head wants to fall back, yet I can’t tear my eyes off of him. His cheeks are flushed and his lips are tinged red. Trent hooks one finger and slips my swimsuit to the side, his fingertip sliding against the sensitive skin of my pussy lips, stroking, before sliding in so deep my breath catches in my throat. He gives me a wolfish grin before pumping his finger into me, curving it to rake over my G spot. One of my hands grabs his head, pulling his lips to mine. I attack his mouth, my tongue stroking his in rhythm, as my fingers pull and twist in his hair, holding him to me. I gasp into his mouth when he adds another finger, and grinds the heel of his palm into my clit. He rubs in tight circles, adding pressure right where I need it. My hips jerk toward the contact until the water around us is lapping against the side of the pool, making a slapping sound, but I still can’t stop. My mind won’t think straight. Trent is all around me, in every part of me, and every thought is centered around what he’s doing to me and how good it feels.

  His pulls back from me, his brow pinches. “Fuck, you feel so good, Scar.” His voice is gravelly, filled with desire and need. “Come to Colorado with me,” he asks, an edge of authority to his voice. I nod my head, yes, my body shivering involuntarily from his words alone. I was hoping he’d bring it up. I don’t know how I can be away from him. I want to be with him despite needing to in order to complete this mission. My teeth nip his bottom lip before sucking it in my mouth. The growl he gives me is animalistic, his fingers pumping harder and faster. Everything crashes into me at once. My back bows off the side of the pool, shoving my chest into his, as a ragged cry is torn from my throat and stars dance behind my eyes from my orgasm. Trent’s strokes slow, letting me ride out the sensation against his hand, my pussy walls clenching around his fingers.

  I’m shaking when I pull back. Trent’s eyes are almost completely black, and he’s breathing heavily, his nostrils flaring slightly, when he leans his forehead against mine, and his body slumps over. Blinking out of my orgasmic state, I reach down between us and slide my hand under the waistband of his swim trunks. His hard length falls into my hand and I grip him with my fingers. Trent sucks in a sharp breath, his eyes are hooded, and he starts kissing down my neck again. “Harder,” he groans against my skin, and I stroke him again until he moans. I’m so caught up in making him feel good, I completely miss the commotion from inside the house until Trent shifts himself away from me. “Shit,” he swears under his breath, while tucking his dick back in his trunks.

  My brain is foggy and I wear a stupid grin on my face. My muscles feel useless and I just lean there, while Trent dunks his head under the water before bobbing back to the surface right as Ayda rushes outside. “Trent! Can you start the grill? I’ll start bringing the kabobs out.”

  “Sure,” he answers, a hint of irritation in his voice. I give him an apologetic look and a wink, before hoisting myself out of the water.

  “Fuck me,” I hear him mumble behind me, and I turn to see his eyes glued to my ass.

  I laugh and walk toward the house, grabbing my t-shirt, right as the guys all slide out the patio door and drop into the chairs with drinks in their hands. I catch Elias’ face and he raises a brow at me, before glancing back at Trent who is just starting to get out of the water. His lips are set in a grim line when he stalks over toward the grill.

  “Evi inside?” I ask them and Dean nods.

  “Some potato thing she wanted to make.”

  I head inside and pass Ayda on the way, who is carrying a huge tray full of the kabobs Trent and I assembled earlier. Evi is flying around the kitchen, looking for supplies, when I sneak up on her and hug her from behind.

  “Eww!” She laughs and jumps out of my hold. “Gross, you’re all wet.”

  My brows dance and I can’t keep the goofy grin off my face. “That’s what he said,” I whisper under my breath.

  Evita laughs again before sliding closer. “You didn’t…”

  I shake my head and blow out a frustrated breath. “No, things didn’t get that far.”

  “Did you want to?” she asks, her eyes turning concerned.

  Tears sting behind my eyes, and my shoulders slump. “I don’t know,” I whisper, unable to stop the raspy sound in my voice. Evita is the only one who knows I haven’t had sex again after what happened with Jerrett. Him fucking me wasn’t a choice I got to make for myself and because he didn’t hurt me, he paid for it with his life. I carry that guilt like a rosary around my neck. I’ve somehow convinced myself I was still pure because it wasn’t my choice. Even in the jobs I’ve completed, I’ve avoided using sex as a weapon. Do I dress up and sometimes do a strip tease? Absolutely. Do I let men think they’re going to sleep with me and push them into wanting to touch me? Yes. Little do they know, though, that they’ll meet the end of my gun before I actually let them get their hands on me.

  Trent is the first. I let him kiss me and practically fuck me in the pool just now. If we hadn’t been interrupted, I wouldn’t have stopped. My mind and my heart are at war over this piece of knowledge. I want Trent. I want him with a fierceness I’ve never felt, and it scares me. I know that in this story we don’t end up together, yet that knowledge doesn’t stop me from pushing my limits.

  “Maybe just take a break the next few days. Clear your head,” Evita says quietly, breaking into my thoughts. I nod, knowing she’s right. My heart squeezes a little and my hand rubs over my chest because it’s too painful to think about.

  The next day everyone is around and I manage not to find myself alone with Trent, despite all the hot looks and smoldering eyes he keeps giving me. Every time I find myself in his crosshairs, my body can’t help but respond. Just remembering his hands on me and inside of me, makes my legs wobble and I usually need to sit down.

  By Friday, the series starts and the guys are gone from the house, leaving us girls to our own devices during the day. We swim and soak up the sun then at night, we shower, change, and make it to the indoor arena where the races are. The noise inside the arena is amplified tenfold, to the point my ears ring. If I thought the crowd in Florida was insane, they have nothing on these San Diego fans. The building practically hums from the noise. The seats vibrate from the base of the music. Even the bikers seem to be riding a different high than the last series. Their stunts are even crazier, and the roar of their engines is constant. It is no surprise on Saturday that Trent is in first again, while Elias, Sam, Dean and a racer from a different organization round out the top five. And the crowd here loves it.

  Ayda, Evita and I wait outside for them after the final race. Tomorrow is our last day in Cali
fornia. After the races, we plan to head to Colorado. When I told Evita Trent wanted me to go, she squeezed my arm in silent encouragement. Of course Elias had already asked her to come with as well. I was starting to grow concerned about my cousin getting in too deep with him, but she keeps saying it’s just fun and that Elias knows she’s going home at the end of the summer.

  Once the guys arrive, we all drive back to the house and order a pizza. For our last night, no one feels like cooking. We sit around the patio, eating from the box and drinking bottled beers, while the guys tell stories from their earlier racing years.

  “You should have seen Dean’s face, though,” Trent says, while the others are clutching their sides from laughing so hard. My cheeks hurt from smiling. Trent shifts so I’m pulled more onto his lap, his arms sliding around me, while his fingers stroke along the exposed skin on my thigh.

  “Fine, fine, fine,” Dean finally says, sighing, “But nothing on me beats this one over here.” He points to Trent.

  As if he knows what’s coming, Trent’s head bows and he shakes it.

  “Yeah,” Elias agrees, “We’ve done some dumb shit but this idiot here volun-fucking-teers to almost destroy his own career. And then asks us to help him.” I instantly stiffen, my heart jumping in my chest.

  “Stupid cock fuck.” Sam laughs and slaps Trent on the shoulder.

  “I can’t believe we’re rehashing this.” Trent groans.

  “Wait,” Evita perks up, clearly on the same page as me, only I can’t find the words to ask. “We haven’t heard this yet.”

  “Unless you roll in the motocross circuit or you live in California, you probably would have missed it,” Ayda chimes in.

  ‘Tell us!” Evita exclaims, sitting up in her seat.

  I turn my head and find Trent already watching me. Panic slices through my chest, wondering if he caught the look on my face. I need to know, yet at the same time, I don’t want to know the story. I’m not ready to put his demise into action.

 

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