“True. Didn’t think about how the AAG would view that relationship. Those fuckers are always snooping around, trying to find anything that’ll stick. Fucking lawyers.”
She blinks. Not a single emotion shifts across her blank face as she stares me down.
“Okay, no lawyer jokes. Noted,” I say, daring a step closer to where she stares out a window at the backyard. “Randi… fuck, I'm sorry about last night.”
“Yeah, that's what your text said.” My gut clenches at the annoyance in her tone. “Sorry for what exactly?”
“I didn't—”
“Actually, stop,” she says with a huff before turning to me. “I can’t process all this right now. I'm mad, hurt, and a whole bunch of other emotions I can't filter through, but honestly, I don't have the capacity to deal with it. I'm the vice president of the United States, and our idiot of a president is about to lead us straight into a war which he said himself is unwinnable. In less than an hour, I have a meeting with the AAG, and I have no fucking clue what he wants to discuss. I'm tired, hungry, and on the verge of losing it because I'm so unprepared for what this day will bring me. So I just can't right now.” Motioning between us, she purses her lips and shakes her head. “In the last twenty-four hours, this has gone from complicated to a weight I'm not sure I can bear at this point. I know that was my doing, asking you to play the part with Jessica until we figured out things with your mother and stopped her from sabotaging my political career. Guess I wasn’t prepared for the suspicious thoughts and doubts that seeing you together created. It doesn’t change how I feel about you, and it doesn't change us, but right now, I’m not ready to hear your explanation.”
“I understand,” I rasp. Heat builds beneath my skin, making my stiff clothes unbearable. Shrugging out of my jacket, I lay it across the back of the couch and perch on the armrest. I lean forward, resting both elbows on the tops of my thighs and clasp my hands together. Looking up through my lashes, I wait until she’s focused on me. “Just let me say one thing.”
Her eyes roll to the ceiling in annoyance, but a hint of a smile tugs at one corner of her lips. “One thing.”
“I screwed up not calling or coming over. I can see my actions, or lack thereof, hurt you. Seeing you upset because of me is the kind of torture that would break the strongest of men. I handled the situation badly and have no excuse besides saying I'm an idiot and I’m sorry.”
The bright overhead light reflects off the wetness building along her lower lids. “It was the not knowing. The wondering if…. Trouble, were you with her? Tell me now. Were you sorry because of something you did with her?”
Jolting up from the couch, I stride the few steps toward her before pausing. Two fingers beneath her chin, I tip her gaze up to meet my own.
“No, baby. Fuck no. There’s no one else for me. I was drunk and didn’t want to come over like that.” I search her face, wishing to every god that I could ease the hurt I caused.
“With Jessica in the picture now—” She blows out a breath. “I’m not sure where I stand, and when you didn’t come over, I just assumed, which was stupid.”
“Like I said, I have no excuse. I was drunk and it was late, that’s it. But I hope you'll forgive me for not following through on something I said I would do, and the thousands of other times I'll act like an idiot in our future. It will happen again, but I can promise causing you pain, hurting you, will never be intentional. It's just a piss-poor side effect of me being a guy.”
A full smile lifts her cheeks. “Well played, Trouble. Well played.”
“Does that mean I'm forgiven?” I ask, not hiding the hope in my voice. “Tell me what I need to do, Mess. I’ll do anything to ease the hurt I caused.”
My heart falls a little at the shake of her head.
“Not forgiven yet.” With a quick glance at her watch, she interlaces our fingers and tugs me toward the door. “But I’ll give you thirty minutes to convince me.”
“Thirty minutes, huh?” I say to her back as I follow her up the stairs toward her bedroom.
At the landing, she pauses and turns.
“Not up for the challenge, Trouble?”
With a near growl, I tighten my grip around her thin fingers and shoulder past, practically dragging her behind me into the master bedroom.
3
Randi
Oh hell, I don't have time for this, or the energy, but him between my thighs might be just what I need to survive this day. My chest aches with the growing ball of stress building behind my breastbone. I wasn't exaggerating downstairs. I can’t add any additional complications to this day. But even though Trey is one of those complications adding to my strain, the second he walked into the room, everything felt easier. Almost like his presence alone offered the reassurance of an extra shoulder to help carry the weight piled on my own. How he does it, I don't know.
Tricky Trouble. That's his new name. Because somehow with his simple yet sincere rambling speech, him not showing up last night no longer feels like an attempt to keep a shady secret involving Jessica away from me. It cleared the growing suspicion and doused my self-doubt.
And what a speech it was. He really would make a great politician if his heart was in it. Addressing the fact that our miscommunications, disappointments, and unintentional hurt will happen again was like gaining a “get out of jail free” card for future use. And curiously enough, I'm okay with it. Because in all honesty, I'm terrible at this relationship stuff. The only serious relationship I had was when I was fifteen, and I ended up alone and pregnant—not really a high bar to set for future relationships. But what makes Trey special is I'd rather be with him, knowing pain and headache will happen, than never experience the highs, laughter, and smiles that come with being with him.
Maybe that’s the simplest sign of true love. When the hard work, the fighting for each other is worth it because you have each other in the end.
A hard shove against my shoulder sends me tumbling back to the bed, a wide smile splitting my face as I sink into the cloudlike down comforter.
“Thirty minutes, you say,” he muses while rubbing along his clean-shaven jaw. He sinks his teeth into his full lower lip, his heated gaze slowly scanning down my body. “First, these need to go.” With deft fingers, he makes quick work of the top button of my skinny jeans and the zipper quickly follows. With an impatient tug, they pool around my feet. Watching him, my breaths turn to short, needy pants as he stares fixated at the apex of my thighs, sliding the tip of his tongue along the edge of his straight white teeth.
After discarding the jeans, he pulls the long sleeve T-shirt over my head. I cringe internally as he unclasps the plain nude bra I’d chosen this morning, not thinking anyone would see it today. The self-conscious thought vanishes as the tips of his finger trail down my bare arms when he slides the straps from my shoulders. With a flick of his wrist, it flutters to the floor, adding to the growing pile.
Every article of clothing is gone—except one.
“Aren't you forgetting something?” I ask with a pointed glance to my sailing unicorn-printed boy shorts. Okay, not the sexiest things to be wearing, but to my defense, I figured I’d be the only one to see these. At least I shaved my legs yesterday for the party. Thank unicorns for small miracles.
Trey shakes his head with his signature mischievous smirk tugging at his lips.
“You and unicorns.”
“They’re the best of all the mythical creatures. They have a weapon on their heads.” Duh.
Without another word, he turns, sliding his leather harness off his shoulders as he walks toward the bathroom. The harness and two sidearms clunk to the top of the dresser before Trey disappears through the door. When he reappears, his smirk has grown to a full grin. Displaying his prize in his raised hands, he stretches the long white tie from my robe and yanks it tight, twisting the ends around his fists.
I seal my thighs together, hoping to quell the pulling need between them. With a deep shuddering breath, knowing magical
things are to come, I relax against the bed and wait.
The mattress dips by my feet.
“Arms above your head, baby. Wrists together.”
Maybe a little too eagerly, I slide my arms up the smooth fabric of the duvet, stretching them high above my head. Trey makes quick work of binding both wrists together before testing the tie once to ensure it's not too tight. The bed shifts again as he hops off to round the footboard, coming to stand on the other side. Tipping my head back, chin to the ceiling, I try to figure out what he’s up to. The binding tightens and tugs, stretching my arms even higher as he secures it to something I can't see.
Trey's handsome face fills my vision as he leans over the bed, hands on either side of my head. Deliberately slow, he lowers his face to mine. His fuller lower lip presses between the seam of my own, sucking mine between his lips in an erotic upside-down kiss. Dotting light kisses along my cheek and sucking down my neck, he caresses his calloused palms over my shoulders before skimming down to cup both breasts. I don’t hold my low moan of need back.
I gasp, eyes sealing shut at the bite of pain as Trey pinches both pebbled nipples and twists. There’s no dignity in my whimper, not that I care in this moment. The curve of his lips along my shoulder tells me he's smiling through the delicious torment. Too soon his lips lift from my overly sensitive skin and his hands pull away from my aching nipples with one last torturous pinch.
“Trey,” I beg. Opening my eyes, I lift my head as high as I can with my hands tied, searching the room. “Where are you?”
“I think you've seen enough.” He chuckles behind me before sliding something soft over my eyes. I blink frantically behind the material. It allows light to pass through the cloth but prevents me from seeing anything. A few strands of hair tighten painfully as whatever is around my eyes is secured behind my head. “Now, be a good girl and stay quiet. I'll be back.”
“No,” I gasp. Panic sets in. Yanking at my arms, I fight the hold while rotating my head back and forth along the bed, attempting to dislodge the material covering my eyes. “Trey, get your ass back here,” I hiss quietly. Surrounded by agents trained to protect me, yelling out in my current naked and tied state seems very, very unwise.
No response.
Fuck. He really did leave me.
My heart thunders against my chest with fear while my body betrays me below, dampening with heavy arousal. I clench my thighs together, hoping to hide the slick evidence of how much I love this despite my reservations. Giving up on breaking free—because let’s be honest, I don't want to—I relax as much as I can to listen for his return.
A soft click comes from the direction of the door. Near-silent footsteps draw closer to the bed.
I hold a shallow breath.
“Trey?” I whisper.
No answer.
The press of something cold and wet against my inner right thigh startles a gasp from my lungs. Slowly the freezing sensation slides up, leaving a trail of cool liquid in its wake. The ice-cold tip then traces along the line of my boy shorts, barely peeking beneath the tight elastic band before disappearing completely. Ice clinks against glass, my ears perking at the sound. Another icy tip circles along the inside of my other thigh, slowly climbing higher. Edging along the elastic band, the ice slides over the thin cotton to press against my burning folds.
I groan in frustration, need, annoyance. My hips jut off the bed of their own accord, seeking more of the delicious cold sensation against my center. Short, sharp breaths brush past dry lips.
Up and down he glides the bit of ice along my panty-covered slit, pausing at my swollen bundle of nerves. The biting cold presses hard before swirling in fast, tight circles. Unable to stifle my groans, I struggle to swallow each moan of pleasure that wants to rattle the walls.
Water drips down my center, some from the melting ice, the rest from my own slickness.
He swirls the nub of ice faster against my clit, pressing harder and eliciting sharp gasps.
Cold fingers slide along the top band of my panties before tugging them down to my ankles and ripping them off, displaying his urgency.
My thigh muscles stretch wide at the insistent press of his palms against the insides. Hot breath brushes along my center, dissolving the earlier chill. At the feel of his warm tongue as it slides up and down my slick center, I whimper and arch my hips off the bed, searching for more.
A heavy palm smacks against the side of my ass, the loud sound of skin-to-skin contact making me tense.
Trey’s mouth pulls back, leaving me desperate and wanting.
“Please—”
The press of an ice chip directly to my hot, sensitive clit cuts my words off with a short scream.
“Shh, baby, or I'll have to gag you too.” More slickness trickles out at his words. Something is definitely wrong with me. “Oh, you like that idea, don't you?” He chuckles. The resulting vibrations tickle my center, causing me to moan. “Next time, Mess. Next time I'll bind you and gag you and fuck you until you're hoarse.”
Oh hell. I shudder on the comforter.
“Until then.” The melting ice cube returns along with the heat of his mouth, almost like it’s held between his teeth or pressed between his lips, and descends lower toward my entrance. Little by little, his ice-cold tongue dives inside, pushing a bit of the ice in with each thrust.
I fight the restraints. A frustrated grunt comes out at being so out of control.
Up and down he licks, flicking the ice against the tip of my nub.
“Do you forgive me, Mess?” He sucks me hard into his mouth. Again I scream. “Is that a yes.”
“Yes,” I groan. “Fuck yes, Trey. Finish it. I can't take this anymore.” My tone is desperate, and almost whiny.
“Thank fuck.” Two cold fingers slide in deep, curling to hit my most sensitive spot at the same time he nips at my clit.
The world ceases to exist. Every nerve ending, every muscle tenses and freezes in rapid succession as the building orgasm explodes through my veins. A silent scream makes its way out of my gaping mouth as I suck in deep breaths.
Slowly peeling my thighs from around his ears, I let my legs fall to the bed, too exhausted to hold them up on my own. Smiling like a fool, I close my eyes behind the blindfold.
After several seconds pass, my breathing slows to a normal pace as my mind clears.
“Mess,” Trey says beside my ear. The tension holding my arms high loosens, followed by the bind around my wrists. “Mess,” he calls like he's trying to bring me out of a dream. Hell, maybe he is. Maybe I never woke up this morning and this is all one amazing wet dream. “You have five minutes before the AAG meeting.”
My eyes pop open, my lashes brushing along the cloth still covering my eyes. With a curse, I bolt up. Halfway off the bed, I yank the material off my eyes and look down to see what's now slung around my neck. My eyes narrow at my T-shirt.
“Seriously? You used the one I was wearing?”
“I'm resourceful,” he says with a shrug as he adjusts his massive erection beneath his dark suit pants.
I wince at the clear discomfort he’s in. Pointing at his crotch, I waggle my finger back and forth. “What about your situation?”
“It's my penance.”
I snort and swipe my bra off the floor before sliding the straps up my arms. With the unicorns officially drowned, I slide on a fresh pair of underwear before searching for my other discarded clothes. As I get dressed, Trey grabs his holster off the dresser.
The holster, suit, styled hair…. Wait a second.
“Are you working today? Yesterday you said today was your day off.”
Only once both guns are situated and secured does he answer. “It is, technically.”
“Okay,” I say slowly. Shoving my arms through the sleeves of my shirt, I push it over my head. “Then why are you here, armed? You never carry unless you're working.”
His sigh increases my nerves.
“Is there some kind of threat? Am I in danger?”
/>
Trey reaches up to rake his fingers through his hair, then pauses like he just remembered it was fixed and shouldn't mess it up. “No. Well, I guess technically you always are, but nothing specific as to why I'm here.”
“Then why?”
“I wanted to be here for your meeting with the AAG. Tank stopped by this morning and brought up what happened last night with the Sam guy. We didn't want to raise any red flags by coming by as your friends, so we switched places with a couple of the beta team agents.” He shrugs like the gesture isn't a big deal. With a tug on one sleeve and then the other, he peers up through his dark lashes. “Is that okay?”
It only takes two running steps to reach him. His eyes go wide, understanding my intentions just before I jump, latching onto his shoulders and wrapping my thighs around his waist. Once we’re nose to nose, my large smile causes a low ache to build along my cheeks.
“Yes, it's okay. It's more than okay. I can't believe you'd do that.”
He tilts his head to the side. “I love you, Randi. There's nothing I wouldn't do for you.”
“Oh, you mean like selling your soul to the dark side and pretending to be engaged to a woman you can't stand?”
“Something like that,” he says with a chuckle.
With a quick peck to the tip of his nose, I release my hold and slowly slide down his chest. Toes against the floor, I wrap my arms around his waist and tighten my hold. Cheek flush to his chest, I take a deep inhale of his unique spicy cologne.
“Hey, Mess?”
I hum a response, savoring the feel of his strong arms wrapped around me.
“Last night, you wanted to tell me something. What was it?”
My tight breath pushes back against my cheeks. “Later, Trouble. Okay?”
The way his muscles tense tells me he’s not okay with that response, but he doesn’t say a word about it.
Power Switch: Power Play Series Book 3 Page 3
