His Every Need

by Terri L. Austin

  “God, fine. Rip them.”

  Trevor smiled at her. “Good choice.” Once again, he pulled his hands outward, tearing at the fabric. Then he gently removed her feet from his chair, pushed it back, and stood between her parted legs.

  Allie touched his exposed throat. “You’re always overdressed for these things.”

  “I could say the same about you.” He reached around her and unzipped the dress, tugging down the bodice until her breasts were exposed. “That’s much better.”

  She worked her arms free until the dress was simply a band around her waist. As Trevor leaned forward to capture her lips with his, Allie freed his buttons, desperate to get her hands on that magnificent chest again. Then parting the edges of the shirt, she ran her hands across his pecs. His skin was warm, so smooth.

  Trevor palmed one of her breasts, flicking the nipple. At the same time, his tongue stroked hers.

  Clutching his shoulders, Allie felt like every nerve in her body was on fire. Her pussy ached, her breasts tingled, her pulse raced. She twisted her head to the side, breaking the kiss. She let go of his shoulders to rip a packaged condom off the strip. “Why are you still wearing pants?” she asked.

  “That’s a good question,” he said, his lips moving against the side of her neck. “God, you smell good enough to eat.” He unfastened his belt and Allie heard the metallic slide of his zipper.

  “Absolutely,” she said. “But second round, all right?” She reached into his trousers and grabbed hold of his shaft. It was as long and thick as she remembered. Using her thumb and middle finger, she stroked his cock, felt it twitch against her hand.

  Trevor grabbed her wrist, and then without warning, he plucked her from the desktop and, spinning, dropped her into the chair.

  Shocked, she gazed up at him with wide eyes. “What?”

  He stroked himself. “Suck.”

  Allie stared at the engorged head, just inches from her mouth. This was like her first night here, when he’d demanded she suck his finger. She’d felt embarrassed and resented it. But now, staring up into Trevor’s face, his pleading eyes, she knew she was in control here.

  She ran one finger along the length of him. His dick jerked upward in response. “All right, but on one condition.”

  “What’s that?” His voice had never sounded so gruff.

  “You can’t come.”

  He titled his head back, his breath merely shallow gasps. “Fine,” he gritted out.

  Allie grabbed the base between her finger and thumb, then darted her tongue across the tip.

  Trevor threaded his fingers through her hair. “More.”

  Taking her time, Allie licked the entire length of him. “Do you like that, Trevor?” When he didn’t answer immediately, she said, “I can’t hear you, love.”

  Using her hair as leverage, he tugged her head backward and stared down. “Careful. You don’t want to get ahead of yourself, darling. And since you asked, I do like it. In fact, I’d like to fuck your mouth. I’d like to shoot streams of come down that lovely throat of yours. But I won’t. This time.”

  So maybe she wasn’t as in control of the situation as she thought. Trevor was completely unpredictable. That excited her too.

  He relaxed his hold on her hair, and she leaned her head toward him once more. With long, slow strokes, she licked his shaft, tracing the tip of her tongue over his glans. She lowered her mouth over his head, sucked gently.

  “Allison.” He groaned her name.

  Encouraged, Allie took more of him in her mouth. She found she liked the taste of him. Grasping the base, she worked her fingers in tandem with her mouth. Glancing up, she watched Trevor. He’d closed his eyes, clenched his jaw.

  Allie bobbed her head up and down, increasing the speed, before easing off. Then she started the whole process over, licking the length of him, teasing him. As she took more of him in her mouth, her own pussy ached. She wanted to take him to the brink and pull back. Make him suffer just a little bit, the way she was suffering.

  Trevor’s hands tightened on her scalp. “That’s enough. Stop, Allison.”

  She lifted her head but kept her fingers wrapped around him. “Stop? And here I thought you had some self-control, English.”

  He grasped her chin, brushing his thumb across her lips. “Don’t push me.”

  She was tempted to do just that. But she was too needy, her body ached for him.

  Without turning away, he fumbled on the desk for the condom, removed it from the wrapper, and had it rolled on in seconds. Then, grabbing her waist, he lifted her from the chair. “Wrap your legs around me.”

  She did, locking her feet behind his back. He settled on the edge of his desk while she clung to his shoulders.

  Allie closed her eyes as Trevor reached down between them. He guided himself inside her—just the tip at first, and it wasn’t nearly enough. She craved all of him. Then, sinking his fingers into her hips, he thrust upward and pulled her further onto him at the same time.

  The width of him stretched her. She’d wanted this, wanted to feel him inside her, filling her. It was incredible.

  Sliding her up and down his cock, Trevor simultaneously moved his hips and found a pace. Allie just hung on and enjoyed the ride, although the sensations were almost too much. After a four-year sexual hiatus, his large cock stung, but it felt so damn good at the same time. Pleasure and a little pain.

  Opening her eyes, she found him staring at her, closely watching every expression on her face. God, he was gorgeous. Those cheekbones, those firm lips. She rubbed her own across the edge of his whiskered jaw. “Trevor.” She dug her fingers into his back. She was close. “Don’t stop,” she begged.

  “Say please, darling.” He still had the haughty attitude, but the words were stilted as he tried to catch his breath.

  “Don’t fucking stop, English.” Tilting her head up, she bit his chin.

  With a groan, Trevor increased the tempo, raising her hips and then slamming her onto his shaft over and over.

  When she came, every muscle in Allie’s body tightened. She scraped her short nails across his back. “Trevor.”

  When she said his name, he came too, his hands tensing on her hips as he shuddered. Breathing hard, she continued to cling to his shoulders as he clutched her ass. His chest was slick as it rose and fell heavily against hers.

  Allie pressed her cheek to his shoulder and closed her eyes. She’d never experienced anything like that. Would it always be this intense? If so, she could become addicted to him.

  After a few minutes, Trevor moved off the desk. Allie lowered her legs, and falling onto the chair behind her, she continued to pant while her heart slowed to its normal rhythm.

  “You may toy with me anytime, darling.” Pushing her hair from her forehead, Trevor bent down and gave her a scorching kiss. Just then, her stomach growled. He smiled against her lips. “How can you be hungry? You ate less than an hour ago.” He straightened and redressed himself.

  “I was too busy to eat. Between fending off a very inappropriate interrogation from your mother about our sexual habits and questioning her about you, I barely ate a bite.” She stood and shoved her arms back into her dress. Turning around she presented her back to Trevor.

  He zipped her up, giving her ass a little swat when he was through. “My parents know nothing about me. I’m surprised they remember my middle name.”

  “Oh my God, you sound like Monica. ‘Nobody understands me,’” she mocked in a British accent. “Listen, there’s a diner off the Strip that sells amazing hamburgers.” She spun around to face him.

  He’d tucked his shirt into his pants. “I’ll text Simmons for the limo. He can take you.” He reached around her to pick up his BlackBerry from the desk.

  She snatched it out of his hand and set it down. “There’s absol
utely no reason to drive to a diner in a limo unless you’re sixteen and on your way home from the prom.” She found her shoes next to his chair and slipped into them. “By the way, why did you tell your parents I’m your mistress? That was an asshole move.”

  “My father likes to shag any female with a pulse. I did you a favor.”

  “And yet…it felt like an insult. Besides, he’s marrying your mother for heaven’s sake.”

  “That wouldn’t stop my father, you know. I meant what I said. The man can’t keep his John Thomas in his trousers.” He moved around her to plop down in his chair.

  “John Thomas?”

  “Yes,” he said. Reaching for her, he grabbed her arm and pulled her onto his lap. “John Thomas, cock, prick, willy. His penis.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Got it. So why did you let me think your parents were dead?”

  His fingers squeezed her leg, putting just enough pressure on her thigh that she almost shivered. “Are you ready for round two?”

  Allie crossed her arms, pretending that the warm pressure of his hand wasn’t making her skin tingle or her nipples tighten. Should she feel this way right after a deliciously powerful orgasm? Seriously—he was addictive.

  Gazing out the window into the lighted garden, she cleared her throat. “I’d have thought you’d be glad your folks are getting back together. Instead, you’re in here, pouting like a child.”

  He yanked his hand from beneath her skirt and shoved her off his lap. “You’re not here to think, Miss Campbell. Now run along. I have work to do.”

  His words stung. Not only was she back to Miss Campbell, but he had also reminded her she was here for one reason. She’d fulfilled her obligation and now she was being dismissed. The satisfying afterglow she’d felt a moment before dimmed to a flicker.

  “Right, I’m the whore. Sorry, I won’t forget again.” She made her way to the door.

  “Wait.” His command stopped her in her tracks. “I thought you were hungry.”

  Without looking back, she reached forward, her hand on the doorknob. “I changed my mind.”

  “So did I. I’m feeling peckish after all.”

  She dropped the handle and turned.

  The look in his eyes was intense, but with a blink it was gone, and the old, sardonic Trevor was back in place. “So, tell me, what’s so special about these hamburgers?” He unfolded himself from the chair and grabbed his jacket.

  ***

  The diner was a kitschy throwback to a 1950s soda fountain. Doo-wop music played from a jukebox in the corner. Could anything scream Vegas more than Elvis movie posters plastered to the wall and a disco ball hanging from the ceiling? Trevor hated it on sight.

  Allie munched on a double cheeseburger and onion rings. “Mmm. This is the good stuff. My mom used to bring us here after back-to-school shopping when I was a little girl.”

  “Fascinating.” He was still aggravated that she’d referred to herself as a whore. She wasn’t a whore, far from it. She was sweet and funny and responsive to his touch. Being inside her had been fucking fantastic. Mind-numbing.

  And why was he becoming so heated about a word, anyway? She could call herself what she liked. He had other things to worry about, like how fast he could get rid of his parents.

  Allie stole one of his fries, and he lightly smacked her hand. “What was it like for you, growing up with only one set of parents and playing the role of big sister?” Allie and her family were like a foreign tribe he wanted to understand, but he didn’t know the language. His stepsiblings, temporary though they were, had been dreadful.

  “It was nice,” she said. “Lots of laughter, lots of bickering with my sisters, but not in a hostile way, like it is now. We were happy. Until my mom got sick.” Her eyes clouded with sadness. “Your parents must have hurt you very much.”

  He looked down his nose at her. “Fuck your sympathy, Miss Campbell. I don’t need it. I’m perfectly content with my life. I doubt you can say the same. And I don’t need you to analyze me either. You’re a hotel clerk, not a shrink. When we get home, I’ll show you what your role is. I do hope you’re comfortable on your knees.” He hated that she felt sorry for him, viewed him as weak. He had rubbed along very nicely without the benefit of two competent parents, thank you very much. He’d had his grandfather, after all.

  Allie stared at him silently for several moments, her blue eyes assessing him and eventually shrugged. “Yeah, I got the memo, I’m your whore. I’ll buy kneepads tomorrow. But I could see they upset you. Whatever went on in the past, I think it’s kind of nice that they want to include you in the wedding.”

  There was that goddamned word again. Whore. Hearing it pissed him off. So did her opinion of his parents. “You don’t know what the bloody hell you’re talking about.” He glanced down at her plate. “Are you almost through? I still have work to do.”

  “At ten o’clock at night?” she asked, munching on an onion ring.

  “Foreign stock markets open at different times. There are countries other than yours, Miss Campbell. I know it’s hard for you Americans to comprehend that.”

  She sipped her shake. When she released her straw, she handed him an onion ring. “Try one.”

  He bit it in half. “Now let’s go.”

  “In a minute. So, what do you invest in? Besides small businesses?”

  He pushed his plate away. “Stocks, bonds, money markets, commodities. Why?”

  “Just curious. Did my dad seem like a good investment to you?”

  On paper, yes, Brian Campbell seemed like a very good investment. He owned a small used-appliance business that had turned a profit, and he wanted to expand into commercial refrigeration. All well and good. He didn’t need much capital—at least it wasn’t much to Trevor. To Brian, it had been a small fortune. But Trevor’s gut had told him no. And he rarely went against his gut.

  But he’d been slightly—ever so slightly—moved at Brian’s optimism and his story of three daughters, one in college. Brian was a happy family man who wanted to give his wife and daughters a good life.

  Against his better judgment, Trevor had loaned Brian enough money for tools, equipment, and office space. It had been a mistake, not following his instincts.

  But if he had, Trevor never would have met Allison. Since she breezed into his office, she’d been playing havoc with his schedule and his libido. Still, he wasn’t sorry she was here with him. “I loaned him money, didn’t I? I must have thought so.”

  “You know the business wouldn’t have failed if my mom hadn’t…” Her voice trailed off.

  “But the reality is, she did get sick. She died, and your father defaulted, and you’re paying off his debt.” He knew he hurt her, could see it on her face. That lovely, delicate face. But he didn’t care. She needed to toughen up, the way he’d had to. Playing the what-if game was a waste of time. His voice softened. “It’s no good wishing things were different, Allison. You’ll never get ahead that way. Accept what is and use it to your advantage if you can. If not, move past it.”

  She pushed her plate away and leaned toward him. “I don’t want to get ahead, English. I just want to get my family on track. That’s the difference between us. I give a shit about people.” She jabbed her finger at him. “You only care about yourself. And that’s what makes you an asshole. Now, I’m ready to go.”

  She stood and waited for him to do the same. When they stepped outside, her spine was rigid beneath his touch, and she hugged herself against the cold night air. Trevor shrugged off his jacket and dropped it over her shoulders.

  “Thank you.”

  They didn’t speak on the way home. Inside the house, he walked her to the bottom of the steps, and before she could dart off, Trevor grabbed Allie’s arm. “You’re not a whore. Don’t ever refer to yourself that way again. It offends me.”

&n
bsp; He turned on his heel and walked away, leaving her huddled in his jacket, holding on to the banister.

  Chapter 8

  Allie walked into the breakfast room the next morning and found Trevor sitting in his usual spot, phone in hand. He glanced up and did a double take.

  “What the devil are you wearing, Miss Campbell?”

  Allie almost smiled at the look of horror on his face. She stared down at her green polyester vest and black slacks. “My uniform, Mr. Blake.”

  When Arnold set a full plate in front of her, she glanced down in confusion. “Are these baked beans?”

  “Mr. Blake Senior asked for a fry-up. Very popular back home.”

  Allie stared at the toast, hash browns, a tomato, bacon, sausage, a fried egg, and baked beans.

  “If you eat all that, you’ll explode,” Trevor said. “And by the way, Arnold, Mr. Blake Senior doesn’t pay the bills around here. I do. So I’ll thank you to listen to my breakfast orders, not my father’s.”

  “Of course. When he makes his next request, shall I refer him to you, sir?”

  “Just tell him to sod off.”

  The butler bowed and left the room, leaving Trevor to glare after him.

  “Why so pissy?” Allie asked. “What’s the big deal about your father ordering breakfast?”

  “This isn’t a hotel, Miss Campbell, and speaking of which, why are you wearing that hideous uniform?”

  Allie took an experimental bite of toast and beans. A tasty combo. “Well, Mr. Blake, my boss doesn’t like it when I show up for work wearing jeans and a T-shirt.”

  He twitched a brow. “I’m your boss.”

  “Well, now I have two. C’mon, Trevor, I have to give at least a week’s notice, otherwise, I’ll leave everyone in the lurch.”

  “You’re here to see to my needs. How can you do that if you’re not actually here?” He bit out the words, his eyes dark with irritation.

  “After last night, if you’re still so desperate for sex that you can’t make it through an afternoon, you should look into a good recovery program. This town’s full of ’em.” She patted his hand. “You’re not alone, and admitting you have a problem is the first step.”