by Cat Carmine
“Fuck, you are so sexy,” he says. His pupils are dilated now, his cock fully engorged and dripping pre-cum. “Does that feel good?”
I nod. “It would feel even better if it was your cock instead of my fingers.”
Trent groans and leans over me. His face is close to mine now, and he trails his tongue across my lips. He’s still holding his cock in his fist and he rubs it over my pussy so that my juices mingle with his. When he rubs the head of his dick over my clit, I shiver.
“Please, Trent,” I whisper.
He grins and then adjusts his cock so that he’s at my entrance. My body is already clenching in anticipation, wanting to pull him deep inside me.
He glides in devastatingly, painstakingly slowly. Every inch feels like equal parts torture and bliss. My breathing is coming in short pants, but Trent holds himself steady above me and continues his slow push forward.
With every inch he stretches me further, and with every inch my body crests closer to climax.
When he’s finally all the way inside me, he stops. His hands are still on the side of my face, resting his weight on his elbows on either side of me, and he leans in to kiss me again. I devour his lips. My body is quaking, just holding him there inside of me.
“I love you,” he says again. His words are barely more than a breath against my lips.
“I love you too,” I breathe. My chest is heaving and my pelvis is tightening and I realize I’m about to come. I just have enough time to grab his hips, holding him in place while my hips arch and buck. I scream his name as my body rocks.
Trent looks amazed and aroused but he holds himself steady as I clench around him.
When the wave finally passes, I let go of my grip on his hips and sigh.
“That was really fucking hot,” he says, brushing his lips over my forehead.
“Yeah.” I look up into his deep brown eyes, the eyes I think I want to spend forever looking into. “But I still really want you to fuck me.”
He grins. “With pleasure.”
Trent starts moving his hips, gently at first but then with a greater urgency. Soon he’s pounding his cock in and out of my tight pussy and I’m feeling a second orgasm build. His hands make their way into my hair again, tugging just hard enough to send shivers down my neck.
I feel his cock tense and surge inside me, and I squeeze my pussy tighter around him, wanting him to taste the same pleasure I did earlier. It takes only seconds before his breathing catches and he bucks his hips, once, twice, three times, spilling all of himself into me.
The sensation is enough to push me over the edge for a second time. I grab his hips again, forcing him as deep inside me as I can take him, and then my hips rock underneath him. I bite at his shoulder to keep from screaming again.
When I finally stop quaking, I gaze up at him. The look on his face is one of pure pleasure, and he nips at my bottom lip.
“That was …”
“Yeah,” I say again. I trace the line of one of the tattoos that line his chest. “I was thinking about something you said in the restaurant.”
“Oh?” He raises his eyebrows.
“Yeah. You said you did everything wrong when we were dating. But …” I trail off, grinning up at him.
“Yes?” He still looks curious.
“I’d say you did some things right. In fact, I’d say you did some things very, very right.”
Trent laughs, resting his full weight on top of me as he kisses me again.
“I’m glad you think so,” he says. “Because I could spend a lifetime doing that.”
“Me, too.”
We lay there for a minute, catching our breath and trying to come back down to earth. I find myself thinking back to something Sloane said once, when I was telling her about Matt, the ex who had said I was boring and passionless.
If you weren’t passionate it’s because he didn’t make you feel passionate, she had said. I hadn’t really believed her at the time, but now, seeing who I am, who I can be, with Trent, makes me realize she was right. Because Trent makes me feel like I practically ooze passion. Even better, he makes me feel like I can be all the different parts of myself. That I can be sexy and sweet. That I can be SweetVixen and Hannah Cole.
After all, maybe they were the same person all along.
I curl into Trent’s arm and look out the window as we drive. A smile crosses my face as I see we’re heading down Lake Shore Drive again. Just like last time. And just like the fantasy. I squeeze Trent’s hand and sigh happily.
49
lovemail
Hello Mister Bigshot: You have successfully deleted your account. We’re sorry to see you go!
Wishing you the best in all your romantic endeavors,
The Lovemail Team
50
Epilogue - Six Months Later
Hannah
I look around the office and tug nervously at the light blue button-down shirt I’m wearing. It still feels weird to be in here — after all, this used to be Charlene’s office.
When Trent had first offered me this job, I had resisted. Sure, it was my dream job, but it didn’t feel right taking the job this way. But Trent had insisted. He had moved both Charlene and Jim into retail management — handling signage and displays at all the retail stores, which meant they were barely ever in the office, and when they were, they were nowhere near the catalog.
Plus Trent had said that he wanted to take my idea of showcasing more of the behind-the-scenes work in the catalog — photos and stories from the workshop, plans and progress pictures of the pieces Luke was working on. Really sell the idea of Loft & Barn as an artisan furniture company, as a way to distinguish it from its competitors.
Since it had been my idea to start with, Trent said he didn’t trust anyone else to bring the vision to life.
I’d finally accepted, but only on the condition that I didn’t report directly to him. That seemed like a bad idea for our relationship, as well as for my career. Instead, I report to Richard Carrier, the long-time chief marketing strategist. He’s such a vet that the fact that I’m in a relationship with the boss doesn’t faze him and he has no qualms on calling me out when I’m doing something stupid. Which is actually what I wanted — I want to learn while I’m here. Eventually I’ll move to a new company — something that’ll give Trent and I more separation — but for now I’m going to soak up everything I can from this opportunity.
There’s a knock at my office door.
“Hey!” I say with relief as Sloane pops her head in. “Is it coffee time yet?”
She grins. “Dear God, yes. I’m dying. I have a quick question about the new section first though.”
“Sure, grab a seat.”
Sloane sits and we chat through the plan for the outdoor section of the catalog. With Jim gone, I needed a new section editor and Sloane was the obvious choice. We had thankfully been able to patch things up after I told her everything about Trent. When she realized we were actually in love — and that I wasn’t just banging the boss to get ahead — she had forgiven me for keeping it from her. If anything, our friendship has gotten deeper over the last six months.
After we’re done talking, Sloane and I head out to our usual coffee shop.
“Any fun plans for this weekend?” she asks, sipping her iced Americano.
“Trent’s taking me out to dinner,” I tell her as I break off a piece of banana muffin. “L’Amour,” I add.
She raises her eyebrows. “L’Amour? That’s your special place, isn’t it?”
“Yeah.”
“Wonder if he’s planning something special?”
I shrug uncomfortably. “Probably just going to ask me to move in with him again.” We’d been talking about it for months, but I was still putting him off. I wasn’t ready to leave Ally alone yet. And even though we’ve never loved our apartment building, lately they’ve been making all kinds of upgrades — they fixed the front door so that the push button never seems to break anymore, and they rece
ntly added a 24-hour concierge, which makes things safer and easier for Ally when she’s coming and going.
The strange thing is that each of these improvements seems to come after Trent and I have one of our discussions about how I’m not ready to move out yet.
“I don’t know,” Sloane says with a chuckle. “My guess is that if Trent is taking you to L’Amour, it’s for something special.”
“We’ll see,” I say. I’m sure it’s just about the apartment though.
Trent
I glance around the restaurant as I wait for Hannah, and I can’t help but think back to the other times I’ve waited for her here, and the time we didn’t even make it here at all.
That first night — when I was Mister Bigshot and she was SweetVixen. The night she saw me and ran as fast as a frightened deer.
The second time we tried to come here, when we didn’t even make it to the restaurant. We’d ended up back at my penthouse — which admittedly was better than anything we could have eaten here.
The last time we’d come here was the night I’d first told Hannah I loved her. The night we’d agreed to give this relationship an honest try.
A decision I thanked God for every day.
I glance up just in time to see her scurrying across the restaurant.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” she breathes. She looks beyond radiant in a ruby colored curve-hugging dress, and there’s a flush in her cheeks that matches the dress almost perfectly. I think about canning this whole night and just taking her back home with me, but then I feel the weight of the small box in my pocket and know I have to do this. Now. I don’t want to spend another day without a real commitment, without knowing she’ll be mine forever.
I get up and kiss her lightly on the cheek, then pull out her seat for her. She slips into it with a breathless laugh.
“Aren’t you a gentleman tonight,” she says with a grin.
“Hey,” I say, pretending to be put out. “Aren’t I always?”
She smiles and it lights up my heart. “Yes, I suppose you are.”
I want to wait until dessert to do it, but it’s torture getting through our other courses. Hannah keeps up a constant stream of conversation, mostly about work, and I’m sure she’s wondering why I’m so quiet. And why I seem to be sweating so much.
When they’ve finally cleared away the last of our meal, the server arrives with our creme brûlées and a bottle of champagne I had requested earlier. I wait impatiently as he pops the bottle and pours out two bubbly glasses.
Hannah looks confused, looking from the server to me to the champagne and back again. “Did you order this?”
I nod. “I thought you’d like something a little special.”
“What’s the occasion?” She picks up her glass and holds it out to me to clink, but I make no motion to pick up my glass. The confusion on her face deepens and she sets her glass back down without taking a sip.
“Hannah,” I start, and then I take a deep breath. This is it.
“Do you remember the first time we tried to meet here? Our first date — well, the date that wasn’t?”
She raises her eyebrows and nods, and I go on.
“I saw you coming across the restaurant and I admit, I was a bit surprised. You didn’t look like the women I normally dated, but your wholesome beauty somehow knocked me on my ass. And I had the strangest thought.” I take a deep breath. “I thought, this is the kind of girl you marry.”
Hannah sucks in a breath. I grin and reach into my pocket, pulling out the small and unmistakable black velvet box.
Hannah claps a hand over her mouth as I get down on one knee. Everyone in the restaurant is staring at us but I only have eyes for her — my sweet, sexy beauty.
“I want to do it, Hannah. I want to marry that girl. For real. Will you do me the honor of agreeing to be my wife?”
“Oh, God, yes. Yes, Trent.” She practically falls off her chair into my arms as everyone in the restaurant applauds, and then our lips are smashing together, over and over and over, too excited to even kiss properly. When she finally pulls away she’s laughing and crying and I take her hand and slide the ring onto her delicate finger.
“It’s a perfect fit,” she announces, looking down at the diamond I picked out. “And it’s beautiful, Trent. I couldn’t imagine a more perfect ring.”
“And I couldn’t imagine a more perfect woman,” I tell her honestly, and then she’s crying again.
I tilt her head up and kiss her lips for real this time, soft and slow and deep.
“There’ll be more of that later,” I tell her softly, and she giggles.
She takes a sip of her champagne.
“Sloane isn’t going to believe this,” she says, still laughing. “She guessed that you were up to something when I told her you were taking me to L’Amour.”
I grin sheepishly. “Well, Sloane may have known a little more than she was letting on.”
“What do you mean?”
“I had her and Ally weigh in on the ring when I was trying to pick it out.”
Hannah’s jaw drops. “You mean Ally knew too?! I’m going to kill her.”
I laugh. “Don’t hold it against them. I did swear them to secrecy, after all.”
She smiles. “Well,” she says, taking another sip of her champagne. “I suppose it was worth it.”
“Yes, it really was.” It was all worth it — every last minute. It was all worth it to end up here, sitting across from the most perfect woman in the world. My SweetVixen.
THE END
If you enjoyed Hannah and Trent’s story, be sure to check out the free bonus chapter I’m sharing with my newsletter subscribers. You can grab the story here — you’ll be added to my mailing list at the same time, so you’ll be the first to hear when I have a new release, and you’ll get access to exclusive content and other fun stuff. I’m looking forward to having you! :)
About the Author
Cat Carmine is kind of shy, often silly, and perpetually sarcastic.
She’s always the first in line for dessert, and the first to go to bed at night (but that’s because she usually has a steamy romance novel waiting on the nightstand.)
She has a penchant for sexy bad boys (especially the ones with a sweet side) and sweet strong heroines (especially the ones with a sarcastic side.)
She lives with her own sexy (not so) bad boy and one very spoiled, very old cocker spaniel.
Reach out anytime - Cat loves hearing from readers!
[email protected]
