Trent (Redemption Romance Book 4)

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Trent (Redemption Romance Book 4) Page 10

by Anna Scott


  The moment Amber scratched lightly at the skin underneath my balls and sucked me in deep, I tapped the top of her head, warning her. I knew she wouldn’t pull off, but I didn’t want to choke her with it either. Little vacuum mouth of hers was about to get filled up.

  “Ah, fuck,” I shouted into the room as my balls tightened up further, and the hot jet of semen shot out the end of my cock into Amber’s hungry mouth. I loved how she took my cum. She sucked me dry, licking every drop like she couldn’t get enough. I loved how she smiled up at me sometimes like I had just given her the best gift.

  “You know you’re the best girlfriend in the world, right?”

  “I know,” she replied lazily, as she slid back up and cuddled into my side.

  As I began to roll her to her back, so I could return the favor, she stopped me.

  “No, honey, not tonight, just sleep.”

  Kissing her neck and her ear, I whispered, “Let me, sweets, I know how much you love my tongue on your sweet little clit.”

  Amber’s groan came just before she pushed me off and pressed back into my side. “Not tonight, you can have pussy privileges back in five to seven days.”

  “No!” I protested loudly into the room. We had watched My Girl together. She cried in my arms that night. I remembered the part where the girl got her damn period, and she slammed the door in the poor kid’s bewildered face.

  I pouted for a few minutes, making Amber giggle. How she saw me so well with just the dim night light coming from the bathroom, I didn’t know, but she could. She thought it was funny when I was cut off, but I hated losing pussy privileges.

  Thankfully, I fell asleep quickly, which, of course, was Amber’s plan. She knew me well enough to know that I would think about my mom’s house, her safety and whatever else was swirling around all night. She helped me clear my mind, and when I woke up, late the next morning, she was already gone.

  Chapter 5

  Amber

  “Yeah Mom, don’t worry, okay. We’ll be there.” I reassured my overly-excited mother for the fiftieth time in five days. Apparently, the idea of me bringing a man home for Sunday dinner was more than she could handle. She was determined to have food that Trent would like, which was pretty easy because he liked almost everything. She wanted to know if she should invite his family – no, not yet. Knowing that I had enough already, she got my dad to call me and ask what kind of beer Trent preferred and if he liked a certain kind of scotch.

  The beer, I knew – Guinness. The scotch, I had no idea if he preferred the Glen Livet or the Macallan. My dad explained that there were other good ones too, and if I only knew what Trent would prefer he would make sure to have it on hand. Of course, then dad had to explain the difference between them. He even talked to me about the oak and the peat or something. I had no idea and zoned out for the rest of our conversation. Thankfully, I was in the middle of painting my toe nails, so I had something I could focus on.

  As I drove home from the store, leaving it in Dawn’s capable hands, I thought about the night to come and how my parents would most likely embarrass me. They loved me, but I still would rather they not lose their minds just because I was bringing someone home. I swore to myself that if I saw one baby album, I would grab Trent and run. We could be in Mexico in a few hours, and they would never find us again.

  “Sweetness?” I heard called from somewhere inside the house.

  Walking into the front room, I smiled when I saw Trent. His tall, beautiful body was dressed up. He wore a pair of flat-front charcoal gray trousers with an awesome peacock blue dress shirt, sleeves rolled up, showing off his delectable forearms. The color was perfect, matching the outer rim of his irises. I wondered, just before my lips met his if he did that on purpose.

  “You almost ready?” He asked, a sweet smile on his face.

  “Yep, let me grab my shoes.” Racing off toward the bedroom, I heard his heavy footfalls against the hardwood floor.

  Before I had a chance to spin around, he grabbed me around the waist, lifted me high and flipped me around, pulling me into his chest. When he did, my legs flew, and I wrapped myself around him. Holding me tight to his chest, he finally peeled his lips away from me and rested his forehead on mine. As I shrieked, I heard Snowball cry out in protest. For a cat, he was rather protective. A few nights before, he even jumped on Trent’s back when we were making love.

  To be fair, the session was very energetic, and I was making a hell of a lot of noise, which apparently, made my cat lose his mind and try to protect me. Fortunately, the presence of a blanket and the lack of claws saved Trent’s skin and the cat slid off the bed and thumped on the floor. I was so focused on my pleasure, I hadn’t paid much attention to the injured pride of my kitty, but he seemed to give Trent the evil eye for an entire day after that episode.

  “What was that for?”

  “Couldn’t resist. When I saw your sweet ass swaying back and forth in front of me.”

  Laughing I shook my head, and he lowered me back to the ground. I finished getting ready to go, without being harassed anymore, and I finally noticed his sleek Camaro sitting in the driveway.

  “You brought the car?” I looked up just in time to see his cheeks flush just the slightest bit. I quirked an eyebrow in question and had to wonder why he would be embarrassed about bringing the car instead of the truck. Both were nice, but the car was more subtlety sexy, where the truck was big and with that diesel motor and some other turbo whatever, it demanded attention.

  Trent shrugged and held my door open. “Easier to get into,” he suggested, with a fair amount of question in his voice.

  Once he slid into the car, I grabbed his hand across the center console and squeezed it reassuringly.

  “Are you nervous about meeting my parents?” Stupid, I knew. Of course, he was, at least a little, but I didn’t think Trent got nervous very often. There was no reason for him to be unsure of himself.

  Without answering, his lips tightened, as if he were going to smile, but didn’t. His eyes rolled up toward the roof of the car, he was considering how to respond to me.

  “Don’t worry about it, okay. They’ll love you. They’re so worked up about meeting you, my mom is probably ten times more nervous than you could ever be. Besides, even if they don’t love you, I always will.”

  Without a word, he leaned over, smacked a quick smooch on my lips and reversed out of the driveway.

  Trent seemed to relax on the way, keeping up a simple conversation with me. I was a little nervous about us coming out completely too. Luke and Aurora were the last in the group to be told, and they would be back on Tuesday. She and I would have time to talk then, and I was concerned about her reaction. Aurora and I were close, and I didn't want her to be hurt that I hadn't told her about dating Trent before.

  I was mostly concerned about her delving too deep into our previous relationship. I didn't think I would be able to tell her about the miscarriage. Telling Aurora how I had behaved with Trent, how I had ended things would be difficult too.

  The truth was, I’d been a selfish cow, and I knew it. I would hate for everyone else to see me in that same light, it distressed me when people didn’t like me or didn’t approve of my choices.

  My decisions after that horrible night had been deplorable. I cut Trent out when he was hurting too. Looking back, I knew that he was in just as much pain as I was, and after Nolan’s death he needed me even more. I hadn’t been there for him. I knew how all that would make me look, and I was afraid that his friends would see me for the bitch I truly was and discourage him from continuing to see me. That they would help him come to his senses and cut his losses with a mentally unstable woman who couldn’t give him the children he so craved.

  My mood had taken a serious hit and by the time we reached the street where I grew up, Trent noticed. Pulling the car to the curb, about a block from my parent’s driveway, he put it in park and turned in his seat to face me.

  “What the hell is going on in your head?
I know there is some shit you’re allowing to fester and upset you. What is it?”

  Breaking eye contact, I looked down and toward my window, obviously not taking into account his incredible observation skills.

  “Knock that shit off right now, look at me, sweets.” Placing a gentle finger under my chin, he turned my face, so I was looking at him once more.

  “I was thinking about Aurora back in the store.”

  Trent seemed to consider what I said for a minute, and his amazing ability to read me took effect. He got it, and I knew it. His face softened with both sympathy and understanding.

  Shaking his head, he cupped my cheek and pulled me in for a deeply loving kiss. I was breathless and rather warm when he finally pulled away then completed the drive to my parents’. He reminded me, without words that he loved me and that he was in this thing with me.

  How could I not love him? He was strong, and tall, resembling a Norse god. The god of surfing maybe. Trent was kind, sweet and understanding beyond belief.

  It was an enjoyable meal. Mom had gone all out, which I expected. Fortunately, she only got overly excited twice and didn’t pull out my old pageant photos.

  Looking at those things now just creeped me out, but Mom had loved them and had kept me competing until I was twelve and finally put my foot down in such a way that she couldn’t force me anymore.

  Dad hadn’t ever thought the pageant circuit was a good idea, so it had been easy to get him on board with my plot to escape. He didn't like how focused everyone was on physical beauty. Dad didn’t want me to think that was all I was or all I was good for. Mom had been upset, she put up a bit of a fight when I quit, but with Dad backing me, there wasn’t much she could say.

  At least Trent hadn’t been tortured by them, and I didn’t get pressured into showing him my pageant smile and wave, which were both meticulously practiced. God forbid mom get me to do the old dance routine.

  Dad talked to Trent a lot about a recent case that had come through his office. Dad hadn’t been the attorney in charge of the case, but he had read the file. The sheriff's department had rescued three young children who had been living in deplorable conditions. The mother had been taken into custody for something, and their father had come to save the day. Unfortunately for him, it had taken a lot longer than the father had hoped. He had to answer some pretty uncomfortable questions about why he allowed his children to be brought up that way and why he hadn’t stepped in before. He also had to explain how he would support his children, since he had no job and why he hadn't paid any child support in three years, nor seen the children. The youngest apparently didn't even know who he was. In the end, the maternal grandparents had won custody, which was who had hired my father’s family law firm to help them. They had been fighting for the children for years and though older, were stable, loving people who still ran a small farm about thirty miles away.

  It was interesting to listen to the two men I loved most in the world, discuss such a delicate and difficult topic with such empathy and intelligence. They both had been on the periphery, but close enough that they had a lot to say about it. Sadly, they both saw some horrid things in the world, and I knew that those things must weigh on both of them greatly. I knew that, of course, but I’d never heard my dad talk so openly about his work with anyone. He’d kept his work life so separate from me, and I wondered why.

  As far as I knew, he didn’t talk about cases with my mom either, even in the abstract, he took the confidentiality of his job seriously, but I wondered if he wanted to save us from the pain he experienced. I had no idea what emotional toll it took on him.

  Trent talked with me openly about things going on at work. Of course, it was sometimes frightening, but I believed that he needed to get those things off his chest. Since I wasn’t directly involved with his work, he could be totally open with me about his frustrations and struggles. Trent was careful to exclude names and details since he too was concerned with people's privacy.

  I wouldn’t judge him, but I didn’t have any bias or my own opinion about the situations he found himself in. If he didn’t talk to me, then he’d have to find someone to talk to, to confide in. That person could be Gavin, they were best friends after all and had been for a long time. I thought the more likely scenario would be sharing with a female officer, dispatcher or someone else he worked with.

  In that type of situation, it would be easy to form an emotional connection with that person, especially if he felt that he needed to keep me safe, to keep me protected from that life, he would maybe see me as less than capable of dealing with important things, just like my parents did.

  Trent had female friends at work, but I'd rather he opened up to me, shared his thoughts and concerns with me, instead of with someone else. I was selfish, I wanted our bond to grow, not his bond with another woman.

  When I asked about my dad’s current case, he smiled sweetly at me, and patted my shoulder and gave a bullshit answer, much like he’d give to a child if he’d been asked the same question. I hadn’t thought much of it, aside from the constant feeling of annoyance, since my parents did that stuff all the time. I noticed Trent though, when my father said, “Oh, sweetie, it’s going just fine. You don’t need to worry about your old dad.”

  Trent’s entire body stiffened, and I could see his jaw tighten. It looked like he was grinding his teeth. His eyes had narrowed fractionally. If I didn’t know him as well as I did, I wouldn’t have ever noticed how irritated he was.

  I wondered what it said about me, that my parents would speak to me that way. They were never anything but kind, always loving and overly generous. I couldn’t refute their love for me, the way they cherished me and supported me endlessly. They didn’t, however, see me as an adult, which was something I noticed a long time ago. They not only babied me, spoiled me, they pitched a fit if I didn’t allow them to support me financially. I didn’t, of course, but they still tried to buy me outlandish gifts for my birthdays and Christmas.

  After Mom had reminded me, for the millionth time, that I was their only child and the only one they could spoil, I’d relented for a few years. After I graduated college and bought my house – much to my father’s protesting – I put my foot down and stopped the crazy gifts. Dad was thrilled with the house, but he wanted me to get something closer to them – like I was a millionaire – and he wanted to pay the down payment. When I not only forbidden him from paying a single penny, or from cosigning my loan, he had been irritated and had tried to go around me, contacting the realtor. Thankfully, I had warned her in advance, and she dissuaded his benevolent attempts.

  They wanted to help, to support, to love, I knew all that. I wanted to grow, to flourish and to be independent. I wouldn’t be one of those spoiled divas acting like an idiot just because my parents would give me any stupid thing I wanted.

  I even tried to help pay for college. Though my parents hadn’t let me, I maintained a job and worked my butt off for grades, so I could keep my scholarships. I found out later, that my dad had given a financial gift to each of the organizations I received a scholarship from, and it just happened to be a gift in the amount of the scholarship I received. Mom had explained that Dad had felt guilty for taking money that another student who truly needed it could have used. I understood what she meant, and in Dad’s line of work, he had a much better understanding of the challenges that shaped so many lives. I never talked to him about that, but I was so proud of him for donating that money back. I didn't know how many other people, even those who were well off, that would do that.

  Mom had jokingly told me that she thought he should just begin his own scholarship fund and name it the Stubborn Daughters of Texas. I laughed so hard that afternoon and my love and respect for a truly caring set of parents had grown.

  That had been the positive side of their babying, but this, the way they so often belittled me, was the negative. I knew that it was unintentional, but it wasn’t healthy for me. Just as I knew my constant need to make them happy,
to make them proud, wasn’t healthy for me either.

  Somehow, someday, I’d show them. That was my goal, but I didn’t have any idea how to accomplish it. I was sure that my job with Aurora seemed like a regular sales clerk job to them and to everyone else. It was true, I was that. However, just like Dawn had taken on a lot of the buying responsibilities, I was a silent investor in the store. It was Aurora's vision, her dream but I held stake in the company. After she’d gotten the inheritance from her father as well as the house, she had from a grandmother or someone, she was still short on capital.

  Though we had been friends in school, I was a year behind her. She and I hadn't been close. It was total happenstance that we ran into each other just after I got out of college. We caught up over coffee and over a period of a couple of hours, she told me her idea for the store.

  When I graduated college, my savings account was pretty hefty, since my parents hadn’t let me pay for much of anything. They even gave me my car as a gift on my twenty-first birthday. I worked hard in school, not only in my classes, but at the various jobs I was able to pick up. I liked to stay busy, and I had. Though I did enjoy time with friends and going to clubs on occasion, it wasn’t something I could stomach doing all the time. During those years, I saved almost everything I made, not to mention the allowances my parents sent and wouldn’t take back.

  After my conversation with Aurora, I took a serious look at my finances and considered what I truly wanted to do with my life. I was a finance major with a minor in marketing. Where was I better suited than retail?

  When Aurora and I met again several days later, I explained my situation, the cash I had and told her that I would be interested in becoming a silent partner in her store. She had provided me with her detailed business plan and a formal contract was drafted. We entered into a legal business relationship, wanting to keep our friendship and finances as separate as possible.

 

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