“It's a risk I'm willing to take.”
Seamus cursed, his chest tightening from trying to keep up. “What's the plan then?” Seamus asked, dropping his voice as they reached the ground.
“We get to an entrance and you cover me while I enter the building.”
“Douglas' men won't let any soldiers into the main room. How are you going to manage that?”
“I'll take this stupid outfit off once I'm in there and pose as one of the Uppers.”
“That doesn't sound like much of a plan, mate.” Seamus grabbed his arm, forcing him to stop. “I need you to really think this through.”
“Just get me inside and I'll figure it out once I'm in there.”
Seamus stepped closer, whispering urgently. “And what if Ludwig bombs the fucking place? What then?”
“We both know he won't. He needs his Uppers.”
“Who knows with him. It's too much of a risk. Trent and McKay would never let you do this.”
Garret grinned, slapping his shoulder. “Then it's a good thing they're not here.”
Trent walked into the kitchen, pausing in the doorway. Pete sat beside Charlotte, his head bent toward her belly as he sang softly. Charlotte was watching him with so much love, he felt equally jealous and happy for them. He must have moved because suddenly she looked up and noticed him standing there.
He walked in, clearing his throat. “Sorry if I'm interrupting,” he said awkwardly.
“Don't be silly,” she said, waving him off. Pete sat up with a smile, clearly not embarrassed in the least. Trent dropped into a seat on the other side of the table. Missy placed a bowl of soup in front of him. He hadn't even noticed her in the room until then.
“Thanks,” he said, swallowing a spoonful. “It feels like forever since I heard you sing, Petey,” he said with a smile.
His brother laughed. “Yeah, I guess things have just been too crazy lately.”
“I think the last time was your birthday, Trent,” Charlotte said with a chuckle.
He groaned. “Don't remind me,” he said, remembering how sick he'd been that night from all the shots they'd given him. God he hated being drunk.
“Why? What happened?” Missy asked with a smile, sitting beside him with her own bowl.
“Trent was hammered,” Charlotte told her, smiling gleefully.
“Stop gossiping about me when I'm right here.”
They both giggled. Charlotte started telling Missy about the night. Some things he wondered if she made up, his memory fuzzy. Despite his best efforts, he found himself laughing along with them. Tyler had even joined them at one point, sitting close to Missy as he started sharing his own stories about all the guys.
For the first time in what felt like forever, Trent was relaxed. He was surrounded by friends and they were laughing as if there wasn't a world of problems waiting for them all outside that door. It couldn't last, but it felt damn good to be able to just forget everything else, even if it was for a short time.
Looking at his brother and Charlotte, and Missy and Tyler, seeing how much they all loved their partners, Trent realized how much he was missing in his life. Yes, he had an amazing group of people he could call friends. And he had Michael, who was a good dad, even if he wasn't always the most attentive. Trent had purpose and something to work toward, which was all good.
But he didn't have one special person to share it with. And sitting there, looking at the others, he knew that it was important to have someone like that. In a world so full of hate, it was even more crucial to fill your life with love.
His mind went to Phoenix, picturing her smiles and bright eyes. The way she felt as she slept within his arms, and waking up to see her there, peaceful and soft. What would it be like to have that every day? He'd like to find out, he decided.
He just needed to get her to speak to him. Getting Phoenix to do anything she didn't want to was a huge challenge all on its own. It was a good thing he liked challenges.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Phoenix entered her room, sweaty and exhausted from training. It was the only thing to do around here, but at least it was giving everyone an outlet for their pent-up energy. Stripping off her clothes, she headed to the shower, looking forward to finally getting clean and heading to bed.
As soon as the hot water hit her back, she moaned appreciatively. There were definitely perks to staying underground in Bastian's hideout, and the showers were one of them. Missy was right, the place was great, especially compared to where they'd been living before.
Turning around, she let the water wash over her face, not hearing the sound of someone else in the room until the curtain was pulled back and a large body was crowding inside the tight space.
She squeaked in surprise, turning to see Trent standing naked in front of her. Unable to help it, her eyes trailed down his tight stomach and lean hips, soaking in every hard inch of him. The man was too perfect.
Schooling her face into a scowl, she looked back up, forcing her body to ignore his - if that was even possible.
“What the hell are you doing in here?” she said.
“Taking a shower,” he replied simply, smirking.
She huffed. “Go shower in your own room.”
He stepped closer, his thighs meeting hers. She felt her entire body jolt at the contact.
“Yours is much more fun,” he said huskily.
“Trent,” she warned, placing her hands on his stomach with the intent on pushing him away. “You can't just come in here and stare at me all sexily...”
“Sexily?” he chuckled.
She shook her head, trying to rid her mind of the enticing sound. “Yes, sexily. And then crowd me with all these...” Her eyes roamed, “muscles,” she breathed, “and just expect me to give in.”
He leaned his head down until his lips were only a breath away. “Can't I?”
Her eyes were glued to his mouth, her own watering at just the thought of getting a taste of him. “Go away,” she said weakly.
“Is that what you really want?”
She nodded her head, her mouth too dry to speak.
He paused there, the air tense with anticipation. His lips pulled up into a disappointed smile. “Ok.”
She blinked in confusion.
Trent turned and walked out of the shower, leaving her a baffled, quivering mess.
“Trent, god damn it!” she yelled.
She heard him laugh a second before his hands reached in and grabbed her out from beneath the water. She squealed as he carried her soaking wet to the bed.
He dropped her, his body following.
“I'm fucking freezing, you asshole,” she said, shivering.
He smiled. “I'll fix that.”
She bit back her smile. She would not weaken in the midst of playful, sexy Trent.
“I'm still angry at you,” she said as he leaned down to capture one of her nipples in his mouth. She swallowed her moan, her eyes rolling in her head of their own accord.
He lifted his head, pushing his hips closer. “I know you are,” he said, looking down at her. “Would it help if I apologized?”
She cocked an eyebrow. “Would you mean it if you did?”
“Of course,” he said with a nod. “I don't say things I don't mean.” He rotated his hips, the hard length of him rubbing over her center. She moaned, unable to suppress it anymore.
“I'm sorry, Phoenix,” he said as he kissed her softly along her jawline.
She sighed, stretching her neck, giving him more access.
“For what?” she urged.
He continued to torture her with his slow, light kisses. Gone was the demanding Trent, in his place instead was a gentle, loving Trent that was just as dangerous to her resolve.
“For snapping at you and making you feel disrespected,” he answered.
Unwanted tears burned her eyes. She hated to cry, but to hear him say those words hit a soft spot in her. The place where all she wanted was him to see her as more than just a mo
uthy, sarcastic trouble maker.
“Hey,” he said quietly.
She turned her head away, embarrassed. He stopped, his hand gently forcing her face to him. Leaning down, he dropped a kiss on each of her closed eyelids. “I'm sorry, Phoenix,” he said again. “Don't be upset, sweetheart. I think you're an amazing woman, with more strength than anyone else I know - even me. Never doubt that.”
She opened her eyes to stare into his.
“I know I can be an ass,” he said. “I'll try not to be, I swear.”
Her lips twitched. “Is that even possible?”
He smiled back. “I don't know, but I can try.”
She took a deep breath, running her hands across his shoulders. “Okay,” she said.
“Okay?”
She nodded. “Now stop being so nice and fuck me.”
He chuckled darkly. “Yes ma'am.”
Trent looked down at her, his gaze soaking in every delicate feature as Phoenix slept next to him. Her short hair was a mess, her lips swollen from his kisses, and her cheeks still rosy from the multiple climaxes he'd given her. She was the most beautiful women he'd ever had the pleasure of being next to.
The memory of her moans and pleas as he'd taken her from behind still rang through his head. The image of her riding him after, her long neck arched back, her teeth biting at her bottom lip - that picture would never leave his mind.
He felt content for the first time in days. Having Phoenix mad at him had driven him nuts. He hadn't been lying when he'd given her his apology. He knew that he could be an ass most of the time, it was the way he'd always been. As the older McKay, it had always been Trent's job to keep everyone in line.
Pete was the hothead, Garrett the joker, and Michael the primarily absentminded father. He couldn't even remember how it had been when their mother was around. So who did that leave to be the responsible one? Him. Being an ass was just part of the job sometimes.
But he didn't want to be one with Phoenix. Not anymore. Their bantering was one thing, he enjoyed that. Phoenix was quick and sarcastic, and challenged him. He didn't want to ever insult her though, not when she looked so sad and teared up like she had before. That had nearly broken his heart.
What did he want when it came to her? Trent wasn't sure. Would it be possible for them to have a real relationship? Was he just considering that because he saw how happy the others were who had found love? He didn't think so. Trent had never been the type to want something just because someone else had it.
No, he had just gotten to a point in his life where sharing a bed and life with someone else was appealing to him. He looked back down at Phoenix. For some reason, picturing doing that with anyone else just didn't feel as right as it did with her.
Trent could still remember the first time he'd met her. She'd been posing as a hooker out in the streets, and had given him all that attitude right off the bat. He smiled just thinking of it. Even from the beginning she was a little shit.
And he wouldn't have had it any other way. But he also knew Phoenix wasn't the type to settle down. She didn't talk about relationships or even seem to care for them. She was so independent and confident, he wondered if she would ever want to finally settle down and put some of her trust into someone else.
How could he convince her to give him a shot? Was it just a waste of time to even try? Maybe he was better to just accept what she would give him, and not complain. At least he had her in his arms.
“Why are you watching me?” she murmured sleepily. Her eyes remained closed.
“Because you're pretty when you're not talking,” he replied, smiling.
Her eyes popped open, her mouth dropping into a cute “O” as she smacked his chest. He chuckled, blocking her next blow. Gripping her wrist, he rolled them until he had her pinned against the bed.
“I'm kidding,” he said, leaning down to kiss her slowly, soaking in the feel and taste of her. There was something about Phoenix that made him think he'd never get enough.
When he finally pulled up to look down at her, she had her lips pursed, trying her best not to smile.
“You're such an ass,” she said.
He laughed, moving down her body to place kisses in all the spots that drove him crazy. Which was everywhere. There wasn't an inch of Phoenix he didn't obsess about. Having a taste of her was either the worst thing he’d ever done, or the best, because now he knew what he'd be missing if they ever stopped.
“You love it,” he said against her skin. He felt her stiffen for a moment before her hands raked through his hair.
Spreading her thighs, he entered her slowly, rocking into her tight heat. Phoenix moaned, her nails scraping down his back, gripping his bare ass. He set a slow, languid pace, keeping both of them just on the edge, but never letting them fall over.
“Don't stop,” Phoenix groaned.
“I don't want to,” he said, meaning more than what she thought. Pushing her legs further apart, he started to pick up his pace, slamming into her with every thrust. With one hand he circled her bundle of nerves, his eyes never leaving her face as she cried out in pleasure. Phoenix in the throes of passion was one of the most captivating sights.
Her inner walls tightened around him as she climaxed, milking him so that he followed after her. He collapsed, burying his face in her neck. She might not want this forever, he thought, but damn if he wasn't going to soak up every second she did want him.
It might make it harder when she decided to end things, but it was worth it. She was worth all of it. Trent didn't know at what point things had changed for him, all he knew was that there was no going back now. No other woman was going to capture him the way Phoenix did. He was lost.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Seamus walked into headquarters, his head a mess. Garrett was a fucking idiot. McKay was going to have a shit fit when he found out that he had let his little brother go inside the damn Community Center. Not that he'd had much of a choice. The man was still a McKay after all, even if he was the easier going out of the three.
What was Seamus supposed to do? Two other guards had come by and told Seamus his shift was over and he was to get back to HQ. By the time Seamus had looked back around to continue arguing with Garrett, the idiot had already slipped through the side door.
Now he had to get back to the house and call the others. There was no way he was going to the Outlands until Garrett got out. If, Garrett got out. He was going to have to leave Lake a note too, letting her know things had changed.
Things just got super fucked up in the matter of an afternoon. Figures, he thought miserably. That seemed to be how it always went around the lot of them. With the night time now descending, there wasn't much he could do besides get some rest and figure out a way to get back to the house tomorrow.
Heading to the fourth floor, he walked into Charlotte's old room, figuring he'd crash at HQ for the night. Normally he'd just go back to the house, but he was beat. Charlotte and Bridgette had both stayed in this room, so for some reason that made him feel more comfortable staying there too, rather than one of the other empty ones.
The room itself was pretty bare. As far as he could tell, Charlotte hadn't accumulated much over the five years she'd lived there. Pulling off his vest, he dropped it in the corner, toeing off his boots in the process. He walked into the small bathroom, starting up the shower so it could heat while he got undressed.
Going back out to the bedroom, he yanked his shirt over his head just as he heard the door open. One hand flew to the piece still tucked in his waistband as he threw the shirt on the floor with the other.
He raised his gun, freezing there as he met a wide pair of shocked eyes. Eyes that were violet - the most vivid, interesting colour he'd ever seen. The woman didn't move as those eyes roamed his bare chest before lifting to the gun pointing at her and then meeting his gaze.
This was not the type of woman he was used to dealing with. Seamus could tell that much right away, just from looking at her. Dressed in a slim blac
k skirt that hit beneath her knees, and a loose white blouse, her neck and wrists were decorated with fine jewelry, as were her ears. Her lips were the same scarlet shade of red as her stiletto heels. Sleek, angled short golden hair framed a tanned face.
Everything about her reeked of money. Who was she? They stared at each other in silence, both sizing up the other. Seamus wondered how he must look to her.
Slowly he lowered the gun. That seemed to shake her out of her stupor. She blinked a couple of times before finally speaking.
“What are you doing in here?” she asked.
Seamus cocked a brow. “I should ask you the same.”
For a moment she looked as though she'd been caught doing something she shouldn't. Quickly though she schooled her features, narrowing her eyes challengingly.
“This is Weapon X's room,” she said.
“Correction, was,” he said. “And if you know that then you shouldn't be here either.”
Again she seemed to contemplate how to explain her presence. He doubted he'd get an explanation.
“Who are you?” she asked, shifting from foot to foot. He didn't miss how her eyes quickly fell back to his bare chest before lifting to his again. A light blush coloured her cheeks.
Seamus fought back a smile. He was putting her on edge, and for some reason that made him really happy.
“I'm a soldier, clearly,” he said with a smirk, shoving the gun back into his pants.
“What's your name?”
“Seamus,” he answered without hesitation. It was probably smarter to make up a fake name, but for some reason he wanted her to know his real one. “What's your name?”
She paused before answering. “Eve.”
“Eve,” he repeated, rolling the sound over his tongue. She smiled a small, almost embarrassed smile that had his blood rushing.
Well I'll be damned, he thought.
The fever was getting worse. Thankfully the soldiers had actually provided the survivors with water, but Stella could barely get Mr. Samson to swallow any. He was in bad shape and she was at a lost as to what to do.
Underground (New World Series Book 4) Page 15
