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The Darker Side of Trey Grey

Page 17

by Tara Spears


  I realized I was panting at the same time I became conscious of “IT” throbbing. As if my body had been waiting for me to acknowledge these things, I suddenly warmed everywhere and began sweating. The need to move became unbearable and my hips shot up, setting their own rhythm. Justin’s eyes drifted closed as he rocked into every thrust and began to grunt.

  “Oh... damn. You feel so... ahh... mmm... so, fucking... oh, God, Justin, I’m going to come.” To him I doubted it was a surprise, but for me it was a small miracle. To feel my stomach tighten and tingle, to have my toes curl so hard they cramped, to feel my body begin to shake...

  “Ahh-haa.” I clamped my hands around his hips, pushing him down as I buried myself inside him. Fuck, fuck, fuck. My eyes squeezed tightly shut as heat shot down my dick so fast it felt on fire. Then the pulse started, and I’m pretty sure I whimpered more than once, as I came in wave after wave of delirium.

  “Trey, baby, let go. I’m so close, please, oh please.”

  Justin’s voice whispered over me and I felt his hands wrestling with mine as he ground against me. I loosened the death grip I had on his hips and they shot forward. I took hold of his pulsing cock, and I think we both moaned.

  “Oh God, yeah.” He ground and pounded, using up the final dregs of my hard-on as he fucked my hand.

  When the last wave of sensation washed through me, and my muscles began to unfurl, Justin collapsed on top of me, panting hard and slicked with sweat. I buried my face in his neck. God, he smelled good. Sweet and salty mixed with the musky smell of male sex. I’d never much liked the smell of hormones, but on him it was different, and hot as hell.

  “Hey, Justin... oh shit,” Kelly said loudly. “God, I didn’t need to see that. Umm, sorry, should have yelled sooner. You’ve got to get up, or off— whatever. Your dad’s coming down the driveway.”

  Justin sat up and looked at Kelly, who was turned away with her hands clamped over her eyes.

  “I’m not here,” he panted out.

  “Are you insane?” She whipped around to glare at him, and slapped her hands over her eyes again. “He knows you’re here. Your car’s here... and his car’s here. You tell me how to explain that to your father?”

  “Justin, I can stay in here,” I said, running my hands up his arms.

  He glanced down at me, giving me a skewed smile as his head began to wag. “No.”

  “You’re going to pick right now to tell him?” I asked, amused and appalled all at once.

  He kissed me quick. “Yep, and you are going to be there in case he tries to kill me. Kelly, tell him I’ll be out in a few minutes.” He climbed off me and actually sighed as I slid out of him. “Close the door,” he added, making her come back to close the door.

  She mumbled, “Should have been closed in the first place.”

  I sat up on my elbow, appraising him. “You don’t have to tell him now.”

  He came over and knelt on the bed next to me. “I do. I want to. I don’t want to sneak around with you,” he said.

  I laughed thinking about the open door and Kelly. He smirked then leaned down and covered my lips with his. Man, I could kiss him forever. Of course now wasn’t the time, and Justin let me go.

  “I liked that,” he breathed, his eyes glowing warmly.

  “I could tell. I liked it too.” My fingers itched and I ran them up his thigh, wanting to touch him.

  “I could tell.” He grinned against my lips then settled another kiss on me before getting up and heading to the bathroom.

  We cleaned up, dressing quickly, maybe too quickly as our faces were still flushed, and if his father was even a little intelligent, the man would know what we had been doing. If I was lucky, his dad would be so embarrassed he would take off. A boy could only hope...

  Justin rounded the corner first, and as I entered I almost stumbled. His father seized the room. He was tall, broad, and had an arrogant air about him, as if the whole world was beneath him. Having to wait for his son appeared to be an injustice he was barely enduring. He paced, letting out a growl here and there. Justin didn’t resemble his father at all. The man had a tight crew cut and veins pulsed, in agitation out of his white collar and up his thick neck.

  “Dad, what are you doing here?” Justin asked, causing his dad to swing around.

  His eyes were the same blue as his sons, yet they were hard and piercing, not soft and brilliant. They owned the same strong high cheekbones, however, they looked more like cousins than father and son.

  “I was in the area and decided to come by and see how you were doing.”

  “You could have called.”

  The man’s eyes narrowed at me then raked to his son. “I said I was in the area. I can’t come by and visit my son?” His voice came out deep, gritty, and powerful.

  “Of course you can.”

  Both of them were standing with their hands clasped behind their backs and I could see Justin beginning to wilt. I took half a step forward, and clasped his worrying fingers. His father’s hard eyes jerked towards me as his lips twisted in a sneer. I was beginning to understand why Justin was afraid of his father. The man knew something was up with his son and I, and he wasn’t about to hide his displeasure over it.

  Justin glanced back at me, and then he did something even I was amazed at. His fingers twined in mine, and he tugged me to his side, bringing our hands in front of him.

  “Dad, I’d like you to meet Trey. My boyfriend.”

  Justin’s father let out a tense rumbly sigh as he extended his hand, surprising me and downright shocking Justin.

  “Mr. Kent, sir, it’s a pleasure,” I said, taking his hand. I expected a rough calloused thing, but found his skin remarkably soft. His grip, however, was bone-crushing. He tolerated one pump before he reclaimed his hand, and turned back to his son.

  “It took you long enough to tell me, Justin,” he said, frowning severely.

  “You knew?” Justin asked, his voice barely a squeak.

  He nodded curtly, rolling his tongue around in his cheek. “Of course I knew. For a few years.” He looked away, swinging his big frame from side to side.

  I could feel a barely there tremor begin in Justin’s hand and I squeezed.

  “I... um, I thought you would hate me. You...” Justin stared at the floor confused.

  His father crossed his arms over his chest and sucked on his teeth for a second.

  “You are my son. You will always be my son,” he said in a big voice, making Justin flinch.

  He shook his head as his eyes took us both in. There was a definable disgust there, but at least he wasn’t shouting or being otherwise violent.

  “I understand you were more than likely born this way. Nothing I could have done raising you to change that.” He scowled and wiped a hand across his perfectly dry forehead. “I know I didn’t make things easy... I regret that more than you could imagine.” His meaty fingers roamed through his inch of hair a few times before he tossed them in the air. “Damn it, Justin, I feel responsible for you hurting yourself.” The big man broke. His eyes and flat nose wrinkled as a strangled noise escaped his throat.

  Justin stood and stared in disbelief. I let go of his hand, gently prodding him forward. He put his arms awkwardly around his father, and his father patted Justin’s shoulder just as clumsily.

  I went and sat down on the couch next to a sniffling Kelly. She leaned against me and I took her hand. The reluctant embrace only lasted a few seconds before his father set Justin away. The remorseful expression on Mr. Kent’s otherwise stern face spoke volumes though.

  “How’d you do it, Trey?” Kelly whispered.

  “I didn’t do anything.”

  “You did. You did something wonderful,” she said, hugging my arm.

  I had no idea what Kelly meant. I hadn’t done anything other than stand there.

  Father and son stood together in the foyer talking tensely for several minutes. Justin looked wrecked standing there in green frog slippers. It had been a hard day emo
tionally for him, and I was concerned this might be more than he could handle. He skirted his imposing father and came towards me with a forced grin on his wet face. He clasped my hand and hauled me from the couch, dragging me into the kitchen.

  “Jesus Kelly, quit blubbering,” Mr. Kent told her. She let out a wet sob in response, and I heard him grunt.

  Justin caged me against the pantry door then kissed me feverishly. He drew back sniffling.

  “You know, maybe next time blow your nose before you do that. Snot bubbles are not attractive, no matter what anyone tells you,” I teased as I wiped his cheeks dry with my palms.

  He sniffed again. “Thank you.”

  “I didn’t do anything,” I told him.

  “You came back.”

  “I did that for purely selfish reasons. Now go blow your nose.”

  He went and retrieved a paper towel. “I don’t believe that,” he said behind the white sheet, before blowing his nose.

  Once satisfied, he tossed the crumpled towel in the trash under the sink. He settled against the corner of the counter crossing his arms, and inspecting his gaudy slippers kicked out in front of him.

  “What’s on your mind?” I asked.

  He started with a deep breath. “Think you’re up to meeting my parents for dinner tonight?”

  I mirrored him, crossing my arms and running a finger over my lips, pretending to contemplate. “Well,” I began, “I’ve met your dad. Are you saying your mom’s scarier than your dad?”

  He laughed. “No, not normally. I guess she’s known for as long as Dad has.” His brow vee’d. “She’s been waiting for me to meet someone. Dad told me he’d try to be accepting but it will take him time. He asked me to be patient.” Justin sighed as he scratched his head. “I know it has been a long day...” He cinched an arm around himself and began chewing on a thumbnail.

  “Justin, do you want to go?” I asked. He scratched his ear, nodding. “Then we’ll go. I’m good. I can meet the parents,” I said.

  Justin went to see his father out and I dropped my head into my hands. Why did I feel this was a bad idea? The fact we had, in all actuality, only known each other three days pounced on me. I swore I could hear my OCD laughing at me from its cage.

  A drunken night of mind-blowing sex did not make a solid relationship. What the fuck did I think I was doing? The world outside the kitchen windows tilted as my skin turned damp and cold.

  No, I wasn’t going to allow my mind to take me down. Not this time. I was here, now, and it was more than I had ever hoped for. Pushing off the door, I walked into the front room.

  * * * * *

  An hour and a half later found us walking into Olive Garden with Justin clinging to my hand, as Kelly held onto Justin’s arm. He looked like an overwrought playboy, strung out and on his last gust of energy while his matching entourage pushed him on. Justin and I matched anyway.

  He had tossed me a cerulean blue v-neck sweater and demanded I wear it, saying it complimented my eyes. I argued that it didn’t. That it was purple, not blue. He had marched me into the bathroom where I grudgingly admitted he was right, and in the end I was wearing it to make him happy. He was wearing the same sweater in midnight blue, which I had to admit looked fantastic on him. Kelly, well, I’m trying not to hold her fashion sense against her. Where she found fuchsia paisley stretch pants was beyond me.

  Justin’s hand crushed down on mine, and I followed his eye line. A truly odd couple sat at a round table in the middle of the restaurant. His mother was beautiful. Tall, lithe, with flowing hair the same color as her son’s. She had that timeless quality to her, the type of woman that even at eighty you would know she had always been beautiful. I wasn’t sure if it had been on purpose or just coincidence that her maroon pantsuit matched her husbands tie. Maybe matching your significant other ran in the family. If so, God help me.

  His father spotted us first, and for a split-second his eyes sparkled mischievously like his son’s did at times. I couldn’t help but wonder what the man was up to. His mother chatted to her husband, and didn’t see us until we reached the table.

  She raised her eyes and spotted our hands entwined. Her mouth fell open, as her head snapped up so fast I thought she might suffer whiplash. It took exactly half-a-second for the first tear to spill down her cheek. She was no dummy. She stood, and her head spun to her husband who happened to be holding up a white handkerchief.

  “Robert J. Kent, did you do this?” she asked, snatching the hanky from his big fingers.

  “I had nothing to do with this.” He waved a hand at us. “I only invited them to dinner.” The tops of his cheekbones colored pink then red. “After I stopped at the house at an inopportune time,” he grumbled.

  My cheeks flamed, while Justin’s hand caught fire. I was sure he had a whole body blush going. I was surprised to find myself embarrassed actually. The man was obviously more deviant than I had given him credit for. Mr. Kent hadn’t given one indication he knew he had disrupted us when he was at the house.

  “I can’t control your son’s love life,” Mr. Kent said gruffly.

  Justin cleared his throat, concentrating on the woman before us twisting the handkerchief in her hands.

  “Mom, I’d like to introduce my boyfriend, Trey.” Even though his face was uncertain his voice was terribly formal. “Trey, my mother, Sonya Woodworth-Kent.”

  The formality broke her trance, and she finally took my proffered hand as a bright smile played over her face.

  “Mrs. Kent.” I bent, tapping the back of her hand with my lips.

  “Oh, a charmer. Very pleased to meet you, Trey, and please call me Sonya.” She looked from me, to her son, and back. “Fuck the formalities,” she said, hugging us both tightly.

  Justin groaned while I chuckled. I liked his mom already. When she let us both go, she gathered up Kelly and they shared a familiar embrace.

  Dinner was pleasant despite Mr. Kent’s occasional scowls. At least he tried to hide them. Most of the conversation geared towards stories of Justin, as told by his mother, and meant to completely embarrass him, which they did. Kelly had known him since junior high, and added in her bits and pieces effortlessly. There was talk about his grandparent’s current trek through Italy and Greece. Some mention about the house, deed, and such. I also learned of his older sister, Sarah, who was down at OSU working towards her masters in education.

  Justin leaned over, whispering in my ear, “She’ll hate you, like she hates me. She’s just like my father.” Sonya overheard and tutted at Justin.

  By the time we finished our meal, I felt like I was being de-pressurized. Everything felt surreal and my skin was itching. I wasn’t used to this. Family... togetherness... I needed some air. I needed a smoke.

  I leaned over towards Justin and he tipped his head, “I’m going outside for a few minutes.”

  He gave me a sideways glance. “Want me to come with you?”

  I shook my head. “Stay here and talk with your folks. I won’t be long.”

  “I’ll go with you,” Sonya said, retrieving her clutch as she stood up. She shot her husband a demeaning look if I have ever seen one. “If my son is upset when I return, you will have hell to pay, Mister.”

  He glared at her, but there wasn’t anything threatening about it. “You forget, he’s my son too. We’ll be fine. Go smoke. Maybe it will improve your temperament.” He waved her away.

  I squeezed Justin’s shoulder, and he clutched my hand for a moment before letting me go. I offered Sonya my arm and she laced her fingers through the crook of my elbow.

  In her low heels she was almost as tall as I was. Not a difficult task to accomplish since I had stopped growing when I was around fourteen. Up anyway, leaving me at a modest five-foot-eight, the same height my mother had been.

  Outside, leaning against a black wrought iron railing we smoked in silence for a minute. I watched the cool wind whip the smoke away, mingling it with the exhaust coming off Sixth Avenue.

  “I’m n
ot going to ask how you met my son, or why you’re with him. I will tell you I can spot someone from my side of the track a mile away,” she said then took a drag from her skinny Capri. “Does he know what you do?”

  I drew on my filter as I gazed down the street at the long line of red tail lights. Talk about shit luck. I wondered if Justin knew what his mother used to be. I wasn’t about to be the one to break that news to him if he didn’t.

  “No. He knows I used to, not that I still do.”

  “And you think its okay not to tell him?” Her lips pursed then she sighed and waved her hand dismissively. “Maybe you have your own reasons.” She straightened up. “Trey, he’s my son and I will protect him.” She paused, glancing down at me. I caught her eye for a moment and saw a harsh glint of her old life before her blue eyes softened.

  “You know... he loves you already,” she said quietly, and I nodded. “Please don’t destroy him.” She flicked the long snake of ash to the ground with a French-manicured thumbnail.

  “I’m trying not too,” I told her.

  She turned to me and smiled. “You know, I believe you.” She looked down at her white Capri then leaned a hip against the rail and stared down the street. “I was a call girl when I met Bob. Stabled call girl,” she added. “I fell hard for him and I trapped him by getting pregnant.” She smiled dryly. “He was too honorable to walk away, so he got me out and married me. It was the best thing that ever happened to me.” She reached over, drawing a finger down my cheek. “Maybe Justin can get you out,” she said dulcetly.

  I had been wondering the very same thing. If I fell for him would it be enough for me to walk away?

  “Maybe...” I answered her, as well as myself.

  By the time we reached the house Justin knew something was wrong. I had been contemplative since the conversation with Sonya. Too quiet, even for me. Could I walk away that easily? I wanted to. I had always wanted to leave the Ave. I had even tried to on several occasions. But like a siren calling me, I kept going back to her.

 

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