Lag (The Boys of RDA Book 2)

by MEGAN MATTHEWS

  “Plus I don’t want you two here alone. The crime rate is ridiculous,” Finn finishes with a head nod to Trey.

  Aspen smirks from her position still on the couch and picks fuzz from her brand new looking pants. “Crime, huh?”

  “Yes, six blocks down Van Ness Street a shop had a brick thrown through their window.”

  Aspen stands from the couch and walks to my side making our own little front of woman power. Poor Jake watches the whole show unfold from a seat by the kitchen counter. “Six blocks,” she mocks being horrified. “That’s practically our back door, Simone. Do we have enough teenager repellent around?” She nudges me and then crosses her own arms to mimic Finn’s stance.

  “I’m serious, Aspen. It was hundreds of dollars in damage. The whole thing was traumatic for the business owners.”

  “I’m sure it was,” she deadpans with her head cocked to one side.

  This argument has definitely moved from Trey and me to Finn and Aspen, and I don’t want her to think she has to defend me at the expense of causing an argument with Finn.

  “If you’re sure I’m not taking a place from someone?” I need to confirm one last time.

  “Positive,” Finn steps closer to Aspen while his hand flicks his hair from his forehead. “And once Simone is safe at her new place, you can stay with me until the whole mess is figured out.”

  Aspen’s foot stomps on the floor and Finn stops in his advance. “You can’t force me to move in with you, Finn.”

  He grins. “I’m not forcing you to move in. I’m keeping you safe in my fortress of solitude.” When she doesn’t soften her expression, he tries one more incentive. “You’ll be close to Simone.”

  “I’m not giving up this apartment.”

  “No, of course not,” he reaches Aspen and wraps his arms around her.

  In one sudden movement Jake is off his chair. “Well now that it’s settled, show us to the boxes.”

  Wait, it’s all settled? Jake strolls toward the bedroom where he piled the boxes the first time. He’s a man of few words, but when he speaks, people listen because within seconds we all follow behind him.

  I guess everything’s settled. I’d like a few minutes to process the latest development in my life, but Jake, Finn, and Trey all walk out of Aspen’s room, each with a box, and head out the front door. I open my mouth to say…well something… but don’t. I’m sure when I wake up in a real bed tomorrow, I’ll have less reservations about it all. At least I hope that’s the case.

  **

  Jake drops the last box in the middle of the small living room I now call my own and gives a swift wave as he heads out the door.

  “The places come furnished or not, depending on what the employee needs. So I left everything here for you, but if you buy something tell Trey and we’ll move what’s here to storage," Finn explains.

  I turn to him from my place by the tan microfiber couch. The place isn’t big, about the size of Aspen’s, but it’s mine. As I stand and circle the room, taking in the basic adornments, the events of the last few weeks hit me. Hard.

  The window in front of me catches my attention. I stop and pretend to admire the view. I’m sure it’s a good one, but I can’t tell as the tears cloud my vision. This small group of people have taken me in and given me everything in the weeks since I returned to San Francisco. I barely know them, but they’re the best friends I’ve ever had in my life.

  Against all my efforts I sniffle and give myself away. God, now Trey can see me cry twice in one week. I turn around to face the three of them, and before a word of thanks passes my lips, Trey is at my side. He wraps his arms around my middle and pulls me to him. I don’t fight it because it’s right where I want to be. I’m not sure when my brain decided I’d forgiven Trey, but I’m ready to admit it now.

  Aspen pulls on Finn’s hand. “Well, we’ll head upstairs. If you need something you have my number, Simone.”

  They turn toward the door. I try to push myself away from Trey, but he doesn’t let go. Once the door closes, he releases me a little but not completely.

  “I need to tell Finn thank you. This is… it’s too much.” I manage to spit out the words, but they cause my tears to come faster.

  “He knows, Simone. And even if he didn’t, that’s the kind of guy Finn is. I have to admit when he suggested free housing for our employees I thought he was on drugs, but I see the perks of it now.”

  He chuckles at his comment and the movement of his body against mine makes me smile. Even when I’m crying, I find the guy kind of hot when he laughs.

  “Now, what can I help you unpack?” He steps back from me but takes my hand and we stand in front of the large pile of boxes.

  I survey the results of our trips this morning and admit the truth. “Well, half of these are probably shoes so I guess we can start there.”

  “Great. I’ll go dump them in the closet.” He picks up a box with shoes written on the side. It’s a new box from the pile he brought today since Finn stole my original.

  My heart rate jumps at his words and I rush to stop him. “Trey, these are shoes. Finn’s already dumped them once.” I wince at the memory. "They need to be loved, supported, and admired.”

  He raises an eyebrow at me but puts the box back on the floor alongside the others with similar labels. “Okay, how about the kitchen?”

  I almost nod my head, but then I remember the cat cup from our first night together in the Bahamas. I can’t let him see it. That cup says words I’m not quite ready to admit yet.

  “No!” I catch his jerky reaction and try to cover up my hostile response. “I mean… not kitchen stuff. That’s boring. I have a box of pictures around here somewhere.” I start to scan the boxes in front of me frantically looking for the one labeled memories.

  Trey’s hand reaches to the floor and pulls up my light brown leather laptop bag. “How about I set up your Internet?”

  That sounds innocent enough. My computer can’t get me into any kind of relationship trouble. “Sure.”

  He takes the bag to the small kitchen bar and sits at one of the stools. I go back to sorting boxes, but this time I stack them in piles according to those Trey can touch and those I must keep him far away from.

  “What’s your computer password?” he calls from the other side of the open living space.

  “Stevens1.”

  “Really?” his question makes me raise my head.

  “Yeah”

  “If I can guess as much, so can probably every Internet hacker out there.”

  I walk to the space on the counter and stand next to him leaning a hip on the side to watch what he does as he types in the password and starts messing with my settings.

  “Yeah, Mr. Smarty Pants, what’s your password?”

  “P34jst87.” He stops typing to give me a “so there” look.

  “What? It’s random letters and numbers. How do you even remember it?”

  His fingers go back to the keys. “I just told you. Therefore, I remember it.”

  “Is this your inner nerd coming out?”

  He laughs. “No, my nerd is when I argue who shot first — Greedo or Solo.” He hits the keys a few more times and then closes the screen. "Solo. Don’t believe anything the Special Edition tells you.”

  I stare at him, but he doesn’t explain himself. “There you’re all set. Did you find more boxes for me to help with?”

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  I walk out from the bedroom collapsing the last cardboard box. “You know the good thing about my current vagabond lifestyle?”

  Trey turns around on the couch. “Huh, let me think.” His eyes travel up and down and make me feel exposed even in the jeans and t-shirt I changed into this morning. “Hobo food is easy to make?”

  I toss the flattened box like a Frisbee toward the pile by the kitchen bar and surprisingly it hits the mark even if it lands on the side rather than right on top. “No,” I point to the small pile of unpacked boxes, “easy unpacking.” The couch si
ts a foot or so from the wall even though there isn’t space for that kind of layout in the small apartment. I stop on the back side of it and lean closer to Trey. “I’m hungry.”

  “Hmm, me too.” He leans closer and one hand cups my cheek drawing me closer to him until our lips press together. He pulls away enough to bite my bottom lip and I moan at the contact. I’m seconds away from crawling over the back of the couch when he pulls away and I steal a breath.

  Trey leans back to his regular position. “You worked hard today. What can I order to feed you?”

  His mention of more takeout makes my nose scrunch up in disgust. “I am so tired of eating from bags.” I walk around the sofa and sit to Trey’s side. My feet go up, but then I realize there is no coffee table for me to prop them up on. Looks like I have to buy some furniture after all. “Let’s cook here.”

  “We can do that. There’s a store down the street. We’ll go pick you up some basics.”

  My brain and I are still in debate over what color the new coffee table should be when the silence registers and I look in Trey’s direction. His eyes are a little wider and darker than normal.

  “What?” I question.

  One side of his lips raise slightly higher turning it into a grin. A smug grin. Trey is up to no good.

  “This reminds me of a time when we were sitting on a couch together.” When I stare at him with a blank expression, he gives more clues. “Except we were at my house and you were on my lap.”

  My face heats before he finishes his sentence.

  “There’s one small difference this time.” He leans closer.

  To keep the same distance between us, I push my upper body back. “Yeah, what’s that?”

  “This time your boss won’t call and interrupt before all the fun gets started.” He reaches a hand out but lays it on the back of the couch rather than touching me like I'd anticipated. “Now where were we before? I believe you were on my lap and I was working to get your shirt off.”

  His pointer finger does a come hither movement. All those pesky concerns I had about food no longer matter when I spot a different kind of hunger in Trey’s eyes. I bring my legs up underneath me on the couch and inch toward Trey never taking my eyes from his. When I reach his side, he purses his lips. I brace both arms on either side of him and grip the back of the fluffy couch. One leg goes over both of his to sit on his other side and I hover over him, close, but not touching.

  “Like this?” I ask.

  Both his hands come to either side of my hips and he pulls me down until I’m straddling him. “No. It was more like this.”

  His hands move up my body and I try to ignore the shivers his slow caress creates. When he reaches my shoulders, he pulls me closer and his mouth lands on my collarbone. The kisses he places there start small, but then he increases to weak bites and my body begins to shudder with each one.

  I’m lost in the moment, but when Trey stands up I grab on to his neck as quickly as possible. “Trey!” My legs wrap around his waist and he's now eye level with my chest.

  He leans his head back enough to answer my cry. “Change of plans.” Then he starts to nibble on the area between my breasts.

  My body tenses more each time his lips make contact over my shirt. When we reach the hallway, my back is flattened against the wall. With our new position, the top of his head hits my chin. I try to line us up again, but when he looks up he has to take a step back. I whimper as my body leaves the wall.

  His hands tighten on the underside of my thighs. “Wrap those long ass legs around me tightly, Simone.”

  We reach my bedroom and I send up a silent prayer in thanks that I left the door open. In three long strides, Trey walks through my room and leans over the queen sized bed with my white rose decorated comforter. My back lands on the soft mattress and I have a quick flash of thought that we’re going to christen this before I get a chance to sleep on it. The thought makes a giggle bubble up. I release Trey’s neck to put a hand over my mouth.

  Trey’s head raises to meet mine and I curse myself for the slip. One eyebrow goes up as his head tilts to the side. “Something funny?”

  I shake my head no rather than try to use words.

  “Obviously I’m not taking up enough of your attention, but don’t worry it won’t stay that way.”

  I watch his lips move while he talks and my body craves to taste them. Before he can do whatever he has planned I raise my head to his. While I’m lost in our movements together, he brings his hands up my sides and lifts my shirt with each inch. I sit up on the bed and Trey uses the opportunity to tug the shirt off breaking the kiss I worked so hard to start.

  My thin white t-shirt bra isn’t as glamourous as any of the others I’ve been wearing in anticipation of this moment. His eyes dart lower but don’t linger before he reaches behind me, unhooks and unceremoniously throws it to the floor.

  He places a knee on the mattress and uses his body to force me up the bed farther. Once he has both knees on the bed, I fall back again. Trey rests above me and his eyes take in my naked upper body. I’m exposed, but now I feel it too. A smirk stretches across his features, and his hands come to rest on the top of my jeans.

  Using a single finger, he traces the area right underneath the top of my jeans and when his hand reaches the middle, he tugs up. My lower half bends closer to his and his smile increases. With a quick flick, he undoes the metal button and my body stirs more.

  I try to sit up again to help him take off his blue button down shirt. If he gets a view, I should as well. Before I get my shoulders off the bed, he works to unbutton the material exposing his smooth and muscular chest. But he allows it to hang from him. I reach my hand up to run it over his indented stomach. He lets my fingers to run up and down his expanse while he watches my movements in silence. His body tightens when I move my hand lower until I'm an inch above his pants.

  The room falls silent, the area filled with only our raspy breathing. When Justin Timberlake starts singing we both freeze.

  “Simone?” Trey lowers his head with the question.

  I shrug. “It’s my sister.” I try to sit up again, not sure if I want to ignore her and lay back down or if I should make a run to grab my phone from the charger in the kitchen. As I decide she knows how to use voicemail, Trey’s legs tighten on my hips and I’m helpless to move anyway.

  “She can wait. This is fucking happening even if I have to tie you to the bed.”

  My eyes widen at his comment and his gravely words send a rush of heat through my body.

  Trey doesn’t miss the reaction. “Simone,” he says my name in a sensual slur, drunk off the moment. “Do you like the idea of being tied down while I fuck you?”

  “Um.”

  Trey’s off me in an instant. He tugs his shirt off from around his body and then he’s back on the bed and pushing me farther up the mattress. “Oh, baby, this is going to be so much fun.”

  He wears a wicked smile while in one hand he holds his blue shirt by the sleeves dangling it in front of me. He’s going to tie me up with his shirt? Rather than protest, I move up the few inches until I’m close enough to the headboard I worry I'll hit my head.

  “Bring your hands up, Simone.” His tone’s changed from earlier. Rather than light and fun, Trey now sounds throaty and deep. It makes this moment feel that much more mischievous and my heart skips a beat with what I’m going to allow him to do.

  It’s impossible to refuse his commands when they’re said in his deep voice, so I raise both hands to a rail on the headboard. His body moves with mine and as I position my hands Trey leans over me. He secures me to the metal railing and I stick out and run my tongue in a circle around his nipple. His chest leans close and I use it as a sign of approval to do more as I lightly bite down. His body jerks and before I’m ready he moves away. One of his fingers lays across my lips in a bad girl admonishment, but his face radiates pleasure.

  Reaching up he pulls on my hands to test his knot. When my restraints stay, hi
s jaw ticks in approval. He steps off the bed as his eyes track up and down my body while his thumb rubs at his jaw line. The desire to lick the same trail overtakes me and I jerk on my restraints to no avail. It only makes his smile grow.

  “When Finn’s mom picked out this bed for the apartments, I had no idea it would be so versatile. Remind me to thank her.”

  The Justin Timberlake song starts over again and Trey’s eyes narrow at me. I give him my best innocent look to remind him I’m the one tied up here. From one instant to the next his expression changes. Reaching above me, Trey brings the still loose back section of his shirt over my eyes blocking out my light. The bed moves and I still to focus on listening for where he is, but I don’t feel him next to me. The pounding of my heart drowns out any other sound in my vicinity.

  “Hello,” Trey answers my phone in the kitchen.

  He’s not talking to my sister? He wouldn’t dare. Would he? Of course he would, he’s Trey. The blue material stops just below my eyes, not being long enough to reach my entire face from where my hands are tied. I try to move my head from side to side to uncover my face, but it doesn’t budge. The bed dips again and a hand settles on my exposed stomach as his voice washes over me.

  “No, Elena she’s not here right now.” He pauses and I tighten my lips, the only part of my face visible.

  His touch tickles the skin above my partially open jeans and he unzips them the rest of the way. “This is her boyfriend, Trey. Do you want me to give her a message when she gets back?”

  I pick up pieces of Elena’s sputtering on the other end. I’ve told her the Trey updates, but the boyfriend part would be a surprise.

  His hand leaves my body and I wiggle, but I’m not sure why. I either need him to take off these pants faster or I need him to get off the phone. Actually, I need him to get off the phone and take off the pants.

  “She’s picking up groceries. We moved her into her new apartment today.”

  That admission will cause Elena to go into hysterics. She’ll think I’ve been keeping things from her. I’ll never hear the end of it the next time I do get to talk to her. I open my mouth to yell at Trey, but stop myself before I give away to Elena I’m here.