The longer we stayed married, the more attracted I grew to Trevor, the more I wanted to be with him. That was why I needed to end this shit now. I couldn’t risk falling too deep and having my heart crushed when it eventually ended. And that was the only thing I knew for certain—this marriage would end. And I didn’t want to lose Trevor as my friend. That’s why I needed to stick a pin in this as soon as possible.
Standing in front of the mirror in my bathroom, I looked over my choice of clothing: a tiny, light-blue tank top that showed a hint of belly right below my navel, without a bra, and a pair of cut-off jean shorts so short the pockets stuck out of the bottoms. When I turned around, a hint of butt cheek peeked out. It was absolutely not something I’d ever wear in front of people. The clothes were mainly my housework clothes, something I wore to scrub and vacuum, and when I was doing laundry and had nothing else to wear. But I’d convinced myself that there was no way Trevor would be able to resist when he saw me in them.
Oh, God. What if he thinks I look like a hot mess?
Spinning around, I peered over my shoulder, staring at what I could see of my ass and thighs. Is that cellulite?
Shit. Maybe this wasn’t a good idea after all.
Just as I started doing a mental scan of what was in my closet, I heard the sound of the front door opening and closing. Well, too late to turn back now. Sucking in a deep breath, I steeled my resolve and practiced my sultry look in the mirror one more time. It looked more like I had a twitch than it did sexy, but what could I do? It was the best I had.
Turning off the light and heading from the room, I said a silent prayer that I could walk away from this with my heart still intact when it was all over. I had really begun to have my doubts.
“Wifey, I’m home,” he called out, not having seen me coming down the stairs yet. Thank God, because it took a while to school my expression into something impassive. My stomach felt like a swarm of butterflies had taken flight, and I was pretty certain I was going to throw up at any second.
You can do this. You can do this. You can do this. I repeated as I hit the entryway.
“Hey there. Have a good day at the shop?” I asked without a backward glance. I continued past him and into the kitchen, trying to remain casual as I grabbed a wine glass and poured. I gave myself a few seconds to mentally pat myself on the back. I was doing great. I pulled off nonchalant like a boss! After bringing the glass to my lips and gulping, I realized Trevor had yet to respond.
I sat my glass back down and turned to face him, gripping the edge of the counter behind me to hide the fact that my hands were shaking. He was standing at the entryway of the kitchen, legs spread and planted in place, his thick arms hung at his side. His hands were clenched in tight fists, and when I finally met his gaze the blue in his eyes flashed with something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. The muscle in his jaw ticked, causing my stomach to plummet instantly. He looked angry—an emotion I’d never really seen on Trevor before. He was always so carefree and easy-going. I had convinced myself that there wasn’t anything that could ever make Trevor Devareau mad, so why was he staring at me like someone had just pissed in his Cheerios?
Swallowing past the lump rising in my throat, I tried my hardest to sound cavalier as I asked, “Are you okay? You look angry.”
His hands flexed and clenched several times before he responded. “What the fuck are you wearing?”
Shit, he doesn’t like it.
“Uh…” Think fast, Lizzy! “I was doing housework. These are just my throw-around clothes.”
“I can see your ass,” he said. His eyes trailed down my body without ever blinking. “And your nipples. Oh, Christ,” he groaned like he was in pain and ran his hands through his blond hair, dropping his head back to stare at the ceiling.
Okay, now I was starting to get pissed. So he wasn’t attracted to me, big deal. He didn’t need to be an asshole about it. I might not have the body of a supermodel or some shit, but I wasn’t anything to sneeze at.
Turning my whole body to face him, I propped my hands on my hips, kicked one leg out, and glared. “I’m pretty certain you’ve seen more than your fair share of tits and ass, Trevor. And I’m certain I’m more covered up than some of those sluts I’ve seen you drooling after.”
Having had enough, my humiliation and anger wouldn’t allow me to be in his presence for a second longer. I stomped toward him, prepared to side-step around his massive frame to escape to the confines of my bedroom, but as I walked I noticed his eyes dart down to my chest. My breasts weren’t overly large, but I was endowed enough that they had a little bounce to them when they were set free. And judging by the darkening of his almost teal-blue eyes, he’d definitely noticed their little jiggle.
Not bothering to cover them up, I just kept walking, dead-set on escape. I didn’t want to spend one more second around the infuriating man. Yes, I was angry, but worse than that, he’d actually hurt my feelings with his reaction. That was what stung the most.
Breezing past him, careful not to brush against his body, I started for the stairs when I heard the deep rumble of his voice from behind me. “Fuck it,” he growled.
A second later, a startled yelp escaped me as something tagged my waist and hauled me through the air.
“What are you doing?” I screeched as my back hit the hallway wall.
Before answering he caged me in place, pinning me to the wall with his hard body…and I mean hard everywhere.
Oh, my.
His forearms rested on the wall on either side of my head, bracing himself. “What I should have done the first goddamned moment I laid eyes on you, cher.”
I didn’t have time to process what he said, let alone respond before his head descended and his mouth crashed down on mine in a kiss so full of hunger my knees nearly gave out. I had no doubt I’d have been a puddle on the hallway floor if not for Trevor’s body holding me up.
As his skilled tongue ran across the seam of my lips, I couldn’t withhold the moan that rose up as I melted into him. Taking advantage of the slight part in my lips his tongue delved in, tangling with mine. The sweet taste of cinnamon and something distinctively Trevor exploded in my mouth, causing my brain to short circuit.
No longer having control over my brain or body, I moved strictly on desire, locking my arms around Trevor’s neck. I gave a little hop and wrapped my legs around his lean waist, crossing my ankles behind his back. Once I was positioned how my body demanded, I tilted my head to the side to grant Trevor’s tongue better access. His kiss consumed me like nothing I’d ever experienced before. My body was on fire, and rational thought was out the window as the throbbing between my thighs grew stronger and stronger.
It had been so long since I’d had sex, I couldn’t even remember when it was. I was pretty sure Obama was in office, though…maybe. My poor neglected va-jay-jay was practically singing Hallelujah at the thought of being put back in the game after being benched for so long.
Trevor’s mouth detached from mine, allowing me to suck in some much needed air as he trailed nibbling kisses along my jaw and neck, zeroing in on that super-sensitive spot right below my ear.
“Mmm,” I moaned wantonly as my hips jerked of their own accord, grinding my wet heat against the bulge in his jeans. Sweet baby Jesus in a manger, I could feel how big he was even through several layers of clothes.
After only God knew how long, he finally pulled back and looked me in the eyes, his gaze glazed over, lids hooded with lust. Oh, yeah, he definitely liked my outfit.
“Holy shit,” I whispered, still gasping for breath.
“Oh, hell yeah,” Trevor growled, shoving his face back into my neck. In one simple shift, I was off the wall, still wrapped around him as he began walking, his hands under my ass keeping me supported yet pinned to his body at the same time.
“Where are we going?” I whimpered. Each step made me rub against his hard-on and I thought I might spontaneously combust.
“Bedroom,” he clipped. “I’m
gonna wreck the shit outta you.”
Okay, so not the most romantic declaration he could have gone with when we were about to experience our first time together, but fuck it. I was horny as shit and he was hot and ready to go. I would worry about it later. Shoving his adolescent comment in the deep recesses of my mind where I kept the thought that this was a mistake and my heart was about to be broken, I dove into the bend of his neck and began licking and sucking, inhaling his masculine scent as he climbed the stairs.
I wanted this. More than my next breath. Now that Trevor had gotten his hands on me, I was unable to think of anything other than the immense pleasure I was sure to experience. Or at least I really really hoped that was going to be the case.
I heard a loud bang but was so wrapped up in Trevor’s hand on my body and his lips on my bare skin that I didn’t even register he’d just kicked my bedroom door open. Trevor carried me to the bed and dropped me onto my back. All I could do was watch in awe as he reached back, grabbed the collar of his shirt, and ripped it over his head. My mouth watered at the thought of getting to run my tongue along the dips and grooves of his muscles. I wanted to trace every tattoo he had with my mouth.
When he first moved to Cloverleaf, the only tattoo of his that I’d noticed was the Marine emblem he had on his left forearm and a tribal design on his right bicep. Over time—and especially since opening Ink Addictz and hiring Mickey—he’d expanded on his art. He now had a full sleeve on his right arm and had added to his upper left arm. He still kept the Marine emblem front and center, though. The artwork Mickey had done on his ribs was absolutely stunning, and he’d gotten a phoenix rising from the ashes which covered the entirety of his back. All in all, Trevor Devareau’s body was a beautiful work of art. A masterpiece.
As soon as his shirt hit the floor he was on me, pressing me down into the mattress with the weight of his body, sucking my bottom lip in between his teeth and nipping until I whimpered, needy for more of him.
“Lizzy, baby, do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting for this? I’ve wanted you since I first saw you, cher,” he breathed into my ear. “You’re so goddamned beautiful, baby.” He planted a tiny peck on the tip of my nose, causing my eyes to pop open.
Damn it! His sweet words were like a bucket of cold water. I could do this if it was all about the sex. But he had to stop whispering sweet nothings into my ear! Sex. That’s all this was. Raw, animalistic, multi-orgasmic (fingers crossed) sex. No tenderness, no special kisses. I needed to get this shit back on track.
Planting my right foot on the mattress, I pushed with all my might and flipped our position so I was straddling Trevor’s hips. Yeah, that was better.
My hands went for the hem of my tank top at the same time a sharp hiss slipped through Trevor’s clenched teeth.
“What’s wrong?” I asked, panicked at the pain darting across his face.
“Nothing’s wrong, baby. But this position isn’t gonna work for me tonight.
I noticed him favoring the left side of his back and climbed off his lap so as not to hurt him further.
“Are you all right?” I asked, concern coating my voice.
Trevor let out a frustrated sigh and stood from the bed. “Yeah, cher, I’m all right. I wanted to surprise you when I got home, but then I saw you in that outfit and…goddamn! I lost my mind, baby! I’ve been walking around with a hard-on since I moved in here. I couldn’t take it anymore. I saw your sweet little ass peeking out of those shorts and just snapped.” He leaned in and gave me another quick kiss on the lips. “You taste sweeter than I imagined. And I imagined a lot.”
“What’s my surprise?” I asked as giddy anticipation coursed through me. I loved surprises! When it came to surprises, I was like a little girl on Christmas Eve.
Standing straight and undoing the button on his jeans, Trevor pushed one side over his hip and turned his back to me. When he pulled the black bandage off his skin and I got a good look at what exactly my “surprise” was, my jaw hit the ground.
Right before I exploded.
“Are you fucking kidding me?!”
Son of a bitch. Maybe Mickey was right—not that I’d ever willingly admit that to her. But by the expression on Lizzy’s reddening face and the way she bellowed the question, I was starting to second-guess my genius grand gesture.
“What the fuck is that, Trevor?!” She was doing that scary, high-pitched voice again, and I’m man enough to admit it, I was starting to get a little scared.
“It’s a tattoo,” I said, stating the obvious. It took all of one second to realize that was a mistake.
“AH, shit! Damn! Mother of fuck!” I yelled. My ass stung like a motherfucker where she slapped me as hard as she could…right across the top of the brand new tattoo.
“Why in the world did you think it would be a good idea to tattoo my name on your ass?!”
“Because you’re my wife?” I didn’t mean for it to come out as a question, but seriously, she was starting to scare the shit out of me. Yeah, I’d heard the saying that redheads were temperamental, but that was an understatement if I’d ever heard one. My girl was downright volatile when she was pissed.
“WE’RE GETTING AN ANNULMENT!” She yelled at the top of her lungs, and I instantly became worried that the vein bulging in her forehead was about to pop. But my momentary concern for her wellbeing was instantly overshadowed by my irritation at her bringing up the annulment a-fucking-gain.
“What the hell’s so bad about being married to me, Lizzy? Seriously, we know each other better than anyone else on earth. We’ve been best friends since we met, we can practically read each other’s mind. For Christ’s sake, this could work if you’d let it!”
I watched as the hurricane swirled behind her green eyes. Lizzy and I never really fought, but when she was being stubborn about something, there was no swaying her. I watched as she dug her heels in, refusing to budge.
“And how do you figure that, Trev? Because being married means no more sleeping around with random town skanks. You really think that’s something you can pull off?” she asked with a sarcastic laugh.
The accusation stung like a bitch. It felt like I’d just been jabbed in the chest with a red-hot poker. She still looked at me that way, even after all this time. And I felt a crushing weight settle on heart.
“When was the last time you saw me with some chick, Liz, huh? When was the last goddamned time you saw me pick someone up just so I could take ‘em home and fuck ‘em? Answer that!”
She hesitated, fidgeting from foot to foot with her eyes trained on the ground. She couldn’t think of anything. That was when I knew I had her. But just as quickly as she’d hesitated, her stubbornness reared its ugly head.
“You don’t do commitment, Trevor. You know that as well as I do. You fuck and bail; it’s what you do best. For God’s sake, it’s why you moved to Cloverleaf in the first place!”
Direct. Fucking. Hit. I felt like the air was being squeezed from my lungs. “So that’s how you see me, huh? You really think I’m not capable of fucking a woman more than once, let alone sticking around for the long haul?”
She looked like she regretted saying that, but she was too goddamn prideful to apologize. She tipped her chin up and hugged herself tighter. “There’s no proof to the contrary, Trev.” Her words were cold, but her voice trembled as she spoke.
Everything inside me deflated as I asked, “If that’s what you really think of me then why were you so set on us having sex?”
She averted her eyes and I immediately knew the answer without her having to say a word. “Wow,” I laughed harshly. “You really think I’m an asshole, don’t you? You’re so fucking desperate to get out of being married to me that you’d fuck me thinking it’d be your ticket out.” I couldn’t stop the cynical laughter that bubbled up from my chest, but there was no humor whatsoever. It actually hurt to stand there looking at her just then.
“Trevor—” It was like she could see how much pain I was in. The pity in
her eyes killed. I held my hand up to stop her as she took a step toward me.
I opened my mouth to spit some cutting comment at her but the words just wouldn’t come. I was horny–my dick was throbbing it was so hard–and I couldn’t get that damn pain in my chest to go away. Right then I didn’t want to say something insulting. I just wanted to get the fuck out of there. I needed to get my head on straight.
I tucked my hard-on back in my pants and zipped them up. Bending down, I picked my shirt off the floor and jerked it back over my head then stomped out of the room, slamming the bedroom door behind me. I didn’t look back. I couldn’t.
So I headed for the only place I knew I could blow off steam.
I was such a bitch!
I’d never felt worse in my life than I did when Trevor walked out the door looking like someone had just kicked his puppy. No, it was even worse than that. And I was the one who put that look on his face. I hated myself for it.
I’d stayed up half the night, pacing the house, just waiting for him to come home. It wasn’t lost on me that since he’d moved in, this was the first time I was well and truly anxious for him to return. I wasn’t even sure when I’d decided that this was Trevor’s home; it just felt natural to think that way.
Where’s Trevor? Oh, he’s at home.
When will Trevor get back? He’ll be home soon.
It felt right. And now, because I was a raging hormonal mess that was too damn stubborn for my own good, he was out somewhere doing God knew what and all I wanted was for him to come back to me.
Muffled voices coming from my porch jerked me out of my internal ass-kicking. I’d barely made it to the front door before it was shoved open. Brett and Luke pushed through the front door with a stumbling, disoriented Trevor draped over each of them.
“What happened?” I asked, rushing to them.
“There’s my wife,” Trevor slurred. The minute he opened his mouth I could smell the whiskey on his breath. He was three sheets to the wind. Trevor drank occasionally, mainly in social settings, and there had been times I’d seen him rocking a slight buzz, but I’d never seen him like this. Trevor didn’t get piss-face drunk; it just wasn’t in his character.
Pushing the Boundaries (Picking up the Pieces #3) Page 5
