“Sick for you.”
Scarlett didn’t know if she should believe him. She knew he was a player of the utmost degree. He’d gone off and scored with Drake immediately after being with her.
Could she really blame him though? That night had been a challenge, a fight. A battle that she thought she’d won, letting him get her off and then walking away without a backwards glance. Now that she knew he’d been with Drake, had consoled himself with the man she originally wanted, it made her realize that she hadn’t won the battle at all.
She was a big, fat loser. And it sucked.
“Come on, Scarlett. Come over and let’s get naked together.”
She was silent, released a slow trembling breath and she heard him sigh.
“Don’t be scared, sweetheart. Come over. Let me make it good for you.”
So tempting, his words, his promises. Promises she knew he could deliver. The man was a master in bed, a master of her body. He knew just how to touch her to make her wet, make her wild, make her want him. The thought of going home to another lonely night in her bed didn’t appeal. At all.
“Fine. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”
“I’ll be waiting.”
Trevor opened his front door twenty minutes later to find Scarlett standing on his doorstep, looking agitated and gorgeous. Her hair was a wild mass—billowing around her head in windblown curls he wanted to bury his hands in. Her skin was flushed, her dark eyes sparkling and she wore a form-fitting red T-shirt with a black skirt that hit her just above the knee, showing off her pretty tanned legs, her tantalizing curves. The sight of her made his mouth water, his cock harden.
She was hesitant, her steps careful as he opened the door wider and she walked inside, her low-heeled black sandals clicking and clacking against the entryway’s tile floor. She slipped out of them, kicking them off under a table that sat by the door and she set her purse down beside them.
“Make yourself at home,” he joked as he shut the door, secretly thrilled she felt comfortable enough to settle right in.
Turning to face him, she glared, her expression wounded, a little vulnerable. Instantly he wanted to reach for her and hold her close. Offer her comfort, something he usually wasn’t good at. This woman was a puzzle. And he was desperate to figure her out. She kept herself closed off, never giving him a clue as to what made her tick.
He wanted to know if he could be the one who would make her happy.
It had come to him last night, long after she left him. He had lain in bed alone, unable to sleep, naked and with a hard-on that wouldn’t stop. He’d stroked himself, thought of Scarlett, and realized that he wanted her almost as much as he needed his next breath.
And for once in his life, the thought of wanting a woman so much, so constantly didn’t scare him. It thrilled him, excited him, made him want to spend all of his time with her and yet…
She didn’t want to spend any time with him. Behaved as if most of the time, she couldn’t stand him. Then she’d gone and found out about his little interlude with Drake.
Huge mistake, that one. He normally had no regrets. It was his motto. But he regretted fucking around with Drake.
“I almost turned around and went home,” she said, her gaze meeting his. “I probably shouldn’t be here.”
“I’m glad you are.”
She swallowed, he saw her throat work and he wanted to kiss her there. Drag his lips across her whispery soft skin, lick the spot where her pulse throbbed. Nibble her neck, leave a mark and let everyone know she was his.
His.
“So tell me.” She threw her arms up into the air and then let them fall slowly to her sides. “What do you want to know?”
“About?” He cocked a brow.
“About me. You said you wanted to find out things about me. Go ahead. Ask your questions.”
“Okay,” he drawled, shock coursing through him. He didn’t expect this. He thought he’d be able to fuck her first and get that out of the way. His dick was so hard it made it painful to walk. “Uh, what’s your favorite color?”
“Red.” She waved her fingers toward her shirt.
Trevor smiled. “Do you have any brothers or sisters?”
“One of each.” Her face clouded, grew somber and he wondered at that. “I’m the youngest. My parents divorced when I was five. I lived with my mother while they went and lived with my dad.”
Interesting. “And you grew up, where?”
“Northern California. Extreme northern, like close to the Oregon border. Small town where it snowed all winter and the most exciting thing to do was hang out at the local Sno-White burger joint.” She wrinkled her nose in a cute gesture he immediately wanted to see again. “I hated it. Got out as fast as I could.”
“When?”
“I moved to L.A. a month after I graduated high school.”
“So you’ve been on your own for a long time.”
“Ten years. It was my high school reunion a couple of months ago. I didn’t go. I hardly ever go up there anymore. I didn’t want to face them. None of those people liked me anyway.”
“Why not? You have plenty to be proud of.”
“I feel like a sham,” she whispered, her voice hollow. Her gaze flicked away from his, focused instead on the wall. “Like everything I’ve ever done, everything I’ve ever accomplished, it isn’t real.”
“You’ve done a lot, Scarlett. Why do you feel like that?” He asked the question carefully, afraid he might be embarking on dangerous territory.
“Because I feel like I’m not real. I haven’t figure out who I am yet or what I want. I play pretend all the time, kind of like what I do in my job. Dress up, makeup, costumes, wigs. I can be whoever I want whenever I want, but I never want to be me.” Her voice choked on the last word. She turned away from him, and her slim shoulders trembled.
Trevor took a step toward her, the slight tremor in her voice twisting his insides. Carefully he set his hands upon her, his fingers kneading into her shoulders, wanting to offer comfort yet not knowing what to say. “Show me the real you, Scarlett. Let me in.”
“You don’t care about the real me. You just want to have wild and crazy sex until you grow tired of me, and move on to the next person. Besides, I don’t let anyone in.” She hung her head, her long hair covering her face and he reached for her to smooth the hair away from her neck, trailed his fingers along her soft nape. “I chase and chase, but I never catch. I never let myself be caught either.”
“I’ve caught you. A couple of times. And I definitely care about the real you.” He took another step closer, pressed his body against hers. Her sharp intake of breath indicated she felt the hard length of his cock, and he let his lips rest at the base of her neck.
“You think you’ve caught me.” She shivered at the touch of his lips, and he smiled against her skin, slid his mouth up.
“Oh I’ll catch you, Scarlett. Just you watch.” He kissed the side of her neck, marveled at the softness of her skin, the scent of her, sweetly intoxicating.
“Arrogant as usual,” she said, but she didn’t sound like her usual irritated self. No, she sounded aroused. Just the way he wanted her.
“Hmm, I like to think of it as confident.” He whirled her around in his arms, pushing the hair away from her face before he drew her in closer. She gazed up at him, wide dark eyes searching his features, her tongue sneaking out to wet her lips.
He groaned, leaned his forehead against hers. “You make me crazy.”
“You make me crazy, too.”
“Yeah but I don’t think in the same way as you’re talking about.”
She laughed, and he loved the sound. “Why are you being so nice to me?”
“I have no idea.” And he really didn’t. The woman drove him half mad with lust and sometimes made him so angry he nearly ground his teeth into powder. Her contradictions kept him on constant edge.
And yet he stuck around, wanted more. Something whispered deep inside of him that this
woman was worth it.
More than worth it.
“I don’t deserve it. Your kindness.” She skimmed her fingers down his chest, her touch burning him through the cotton of his shirt. They landed on the waistband of his jeans, her index finger curling through one of his belt loops and tugging him closer.
“Sure you do.” He could barely speak—he was so aroused. She was touching him freely, with no encouragement and he didn’t want to ruin it. He didn’t want her to stop.
“We’re just using each other.” She toyed with the belt loop, her finger sliding up and down before going completely up to slip beneath his jeans and touch bare skin. He sucked in a harsh breath at her simple touch.
“I’m not using you. I swear.” He held his breath as her other hand went to the snap of his jeans and undid it, sure fingers sliding open the zipper. She touched his lower stomach, exposed just above his underwear, her fingers tracing the line of hair that grew from his navel on down.
“Liar,” she whispered, her gaze solely focused on her fingers on his skin. “If you fuck me right now, could you make me forget?”
Jesus. His throat froze, no sound coming out and his cock jerked against the thin cotton of his boxer briefs. “Is that what you want?” he asked when he finally found his voice.
“Yes. Take me to bed, Trevor.” She whispered her invitation and then she looked up at him, her eyes blazing with so much heat he was scorched. “Will you do that for me? Help me forget?”
“What do you want to forget?” He moaned when her fingers slipped beneath his underwear and grazed the tip of his cock. She smoothed circles across the head, lubricating his cock with pre-come.
“Everything but you.” She pulled his cock out of his underwear completely, her hand circling around him and starting a slow, thorough glide. “And me.”
He couldn’t deny her that, didn’t want to either. “Then let’s go to bed, sweetheart.”
Trevor planned on helping her forget all night long.
The man definitely knew how to make her forget.
Scarlett lay naked in Trevor’s arms, in the middle of his giant bed. His mouth fused with hers, his hands wandering over her, setting off sparks of heat wherever he touched. His hard cock brushed against her stomach, and she reached for him, wrapping her fingers around his thick length.
A ragged groan escaped him as he tried to withdraw. “This is supposed to be all about you.”
For some reason his words touched her heart. “But I like this.” She gave him a firm squeeze, and he actually laughed.
It was fun, laughing in bed, naked and aroused. Their sexual encounters were always so intense and commanding. Sometimes even angry, though she’d always, always been left satisfied.
She remembered how upset he’d made her. How jealous she was that he’d been with Drake. No way could she have imagined ending up in bed with Trevor tonight. Not after that revelation at dinner and certainly not after that phone call.
Oh, who was she kidding? The man whispered a few naughty words in her ear and she was wet and willing for him. Needed him like she needed air to breathe, he was so addictive.
It was as if he knew exactly what she wanted. And the thought of that alone frightened her.
“Well, I like it, too. I can’t deny that.” His breath caught when her fingers did a slow glide up and down his shaft. “But if you keep touching me I won’t last.”
“Then let’s hurry up,” she whispered, her gaze lifting to meet his.
He rolled so she lay beneath him, the weight of his muscular body sinking her into the mattress. Propping himself up with his hands on either side of her head, he stared down at her, the intense glow in his stormy eyes making her squirm.
“What?” she asked when he didn’t say anything.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispered, leaning down to brush his mouth against hers. “I like to look at you.”
There went her heart again. It had no business feeling so tight, experiencing that tingle of bliss at his words.
“I just want to make you feel good,” he murmured against her neck, his mouth leaving a hot, damp trail on her sensitive flesh. “Tell me what you want.”
You and me together forever.
Yeah, that would make him kick her out of his bed faster than he could say hell no if she uttered those words. Why would she even think like that? Trevor didn’t do commitment. She really didn’t either.
“Scarlett.”
Blinking, she gazed up at him, wondered why he looked at her as if she might mean something to him. Wondered why he touched her as if she were fragile and made of glass. She watched, struck silent by the sleekness of his moves, the effortless confidence he exuded, as if it didn’t bother him to reveal his feelings, his thoughts. He reached for the drawer of the bedside table and opened it, grabbing a condom. Lifting away from her, he sheathed himself.
All she could do was lie there, silent and hopeful. Knowing that the second he was inside her he would make it all better. Make her all better.
It was a mistake, pinning her hopes on this one man. Yet she couldn’t help it. She would save the regrets for tomorrow.
Slowly, as if he had all the time in the world, he entered her, filling her with one long stroke and their mingled moans sounded in the quiet stillness of the room.
This she didn’t get tired of. The connection, the oneness she felt with Trevor in these moments. Sex had always been about her or him in the past. Never about them.
With Trevor, it was all about them.
He said her name again, the sound raw as it rasped from between his lips. He began to move slowly, in and out, deeper and deeper and she moved with him. Her hips nudged against his, her legs wrapped around his waist. With a tenderness he’d never displayed before, he kissed her, drugged her with his mouth, his tongue.
She couldn’t take this. It felt too—serious. It felt too good.
So good.
He thrust within her as if he had all the time in the world. The slow drag and retreat within her body was too much, too overwhelming. She didn’t want sweet, slow lovemaking. She wanted it crazy rough—scratching an itch versus expressing their feelings.
Scarlett needed it impersonal so she wouldn’t cry. The very last thing she wanted to do when having sex was cry. She never had before.
“Faster,” she urged, sounding like a drill sergeant. But he did as she asked, moving faster, filling her so deep she cried out in pleasure.
Damn it, why was he starting to mean something to her? “Harder,” she commanded, going for impersonal.
And he did that, too. He took her with a tender savagery she’d never experienced before, and she surrendered to it, surrendered to him. Allowed him to fuck her, make love to her, whatever he wanted to call it but he did it all to her and she could only lie there and take it.
Enjoy it. Revel in it. Want more from him, so much more. And when her orgasm bore down on her, rippled through her body she sobbed his name. Clung to him as if she never wanted to let him go.
The tears that formed in the corner of her eyes she could ignore. The restless pounding of her heart she could shut out, too.
But that nagging voice in her head was hard to deny no matter how much she wanted to.
She was falling for Trevor. And she doubted he was falling for her.
Chapter Seven
Scarlett was still embarrassed by her behavior that one fateful night which occurred over a week ago. Embarrassed by that moment more than any of the sexual encounters she’d had with Trevor since this entire thing started. It was one thing to act like a complete bitch and another to allow anyone a glimpse of her real self, the one with fears and dreams and regrets.
And she’d been an emotional wreck, touched by the fact Trevor wanted to find out so much about her. Shocked at herself that she let him see bits of her. Bits she normally kept hidden from others.
He’d acted like it was no big deal. He’d pushed, but he hadn’t pushed too hard. She’d pushed back, and he’d an
swered all of her questions with ease. To the point where he was giving her information she didn’t want to know.
Because by sharing a piece of him, a personal, private piece, it made everything feel much more serious. Intimate. Like maybe they were getting deeper into a relationship or something.
And what they shared didn’t qualify as a relationship. Really hot sex, yes. Someone fun to hang out with, definitely. A serious relationship with a man she could envision spending the rest of her life with?
Scarlett breathed deep and shook her head. She honestly couldn’t answer that last question.
She shoved the thought aside and studied the sketchpad in front of her. She sat at the tiny desk in the large dressing area of the theatre, planning the next production’s costumes and makeup. It was her favorite part of her job, planning and creating. The new play was a fantasy, dark and sensual and this time Trevor wasn’t playing the lead.
Thank goodness. This production was rather sexy, and the lead actor was in plenty of intimate scenes.
I have no right to be jealous. I don’t own him.
Gah. She was being ridiculous. Pushing the sketchpad away from her, she whirled around in her wheeled chair to find Drake standing in the doorway, a cautious expression on his face.
“Hey.” She was startled to see him. He looked good, dressed simply in faded blue jeans and an even more faded pale blue T-shirt with some sort of abstract dragon sketched in white across the front. His hair was damp and pushed back from his handsome face, his green eyes friendly.
“Hi, Scarlett.” He walked into the room until he stood in the middle, his hands going into his front pockets. “How are you?”
“I’m good. Grab a chair and sit.” She waved her hand toward a few chairs not far from where he stood and he grabbed one, pulled it up to her desk and sat next to her.
He smelled good, fresh and citrusy. She breathed deep, studying him. He was incredibly good looking with smooth olive skin and the pronounced cheekbones. His body was lean, his shoulders broad, almost as broad as Trevor’s.
No comparisons, she told herself. Two completely different men, stop it.
Tangled Page 8
