by Shade, S. M.
She loosens her arms and tilts her chin up to look at me. “It was a medical test, Trey.”
“I’m still embarrassed.”
Her patented smart aleck grin breaks through as she nods. “Because you liked it a little?”
“What? No!”
Her laughter is interrupted by a knock on the door. Finally.
“You have fractured your coccyx—your tailbone,” the doctor explains. “It’ll heal on its own, but it can take around six weeks. I’m going to give you a prescription for an anti-inflammatory and painkillers.” He looks me in the eye. “Do not drink alcohol with these.”
“Understood.” I feel higher than a giraffe’s taint as it is. No alcohol is probably a good rule.
The nurse enters and as soon as I see what she’s carrying, a snort of laughter jumps out of me. I can’t help it. She flashes an amused smile at me as she hands the two donut shaped pillows to Sasha. “You can see which works best for you. It’ll make the next week or so more comfortable until you can sit without so much pain.”
“Thank you.” So much for the guys not finding out. I’m just going to have to get over it.
After I sign the discharge papers, we head out to the parking lot. I pause at the edge of the sidewalk, and Sasha looks back at me. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, just forgot where we parked. Do you see my truck?”
Laughing, she grabs my hand. “You’re high as hell, aren’t you? I drove.”
“Oh yeah.” She leads me toward her car. “That doesn’t really make sense. High as hell. Hell isn’t high. It should be high as heaven,” I ramble.
“Whatever you say. Here.” She tosses one of the donut pillows into her passenger seat. “See if that helps.”
It does. At least, combined with the pain pills it does.
“I’ll take you home, then go fill your prescriptions. I don’t think you’re fit for the public right now.”
The amusement in her voice makes me smile. “I broke my ass.”
“Yes, you did.”
“By riding a kiddie toy down a hill.”
“And smashing it to bits, don’t forget that.”
Shrugging, I watch the scenery blurring by with sudden fascination. “It’s a great story to tell, though.”
“If you say so.”
It’s quiet until she parks in front of the apartment. “Sasha?”
“Hmm?”
“Thank you. For coming with me.”
Chapter Five
Sasha
Trey is asleep on the couch when I return with his prescriptions. Pain pills after a night of drinking must knock him out because he sleeps there most of the afternoon, not waking until Denton, Noble, Jani, and Becca enter. His donut pillows and medications are in his room, but they don’t miss the hospital bracelet around his wrist.
“What happened?” Becca asks, alarmed, as Trey groans and struggles to sit up. He rolls off the couch and to his feet, wavering a moment before finding his equilibrium.
“He’s okay,” I assure her, giving him the chance to explain.
“I broke my ass,” he grunts, then walks off to the bathroom.
Denton cocks his eyebrow in my direction. “What?”
“He fractured his tailbone during that stupid race yesterday.”
“But he’ll be okay?” he asks.
“Yeah, it’ll take a few weeks to heal. They gave him some meds to help.”
A grin spreads across his face, and Becca smacks his arm the same time Jani exclaims, “Be nice. He’s hurt.”
Denton holds up his palms. “I didn’t even say anything!”
Denton and Noble drag two beanbag chairs out from the corner, flop into them, and start playing a video game while Jani and Becca grab a seat with me on the couch. A few moments later, Trey comes back with a donut pillow looped around his arm, carrying a bottle of water.
The guys don’t notice him until I ask, “Do you need a pill?”
“Just took one. I’m good, thanks.”
Noble elbows Denton as Trey tosses the inflated ring on the recliner and they both crack up. Assholes.
Trey turns and looks down at them. “Go ahead. Get it out your system.”
“You need to tell your boyfriend to go easier next time. And be free with the lube,” Noble says.
“Yeah, you can’t just shove it in there dry,” Denton adds.
Trey flips them off and carefully sits on the pillow.
“Dude, I think I heard it scream,” Noble whispers.
They both laugh, but Denton regards Trey with a more serious expression. “Seriously, man, are you okay?”
“Yeah, hurts like a bitch, but I’m good.”
“Did they do a scan or x-rays?” Noble asks.
Trey shifts in his seat with a wince. “Yeah, we were there for a while.”
“Did they find your head up there?” This time Trey laughs along with them.
I feel both Becca and Jani’s eyes leap to me, and Becca says, “You went with him?”
“Of course, he couldn’t drive.”
The look they share between them says they suspect more than I want them to know, but neither says anything. We all spend the rest of the evening sitting around the living room, watching the guys play their games, and talking. All in all, it’s been one of my better Thanksgiving holidays.
Jani and Noble have left, and Becca has dragged Denton off to bed when I hear a groan come from Trey’s room. He’s still awake. I should check on him. Just to make sure he’s okay.
“Yeah,” Trey says when I tap lightly on his door.
God, look at him. Dressed only in a pair of boxer briefs, he’s stretched out on his side, a bent arm supporting the pillow under his cheek.
“Hey, I just wanted to check on you.”
Grinning, he waves for me to join him. As soon as I sit beside him, he pulls me down, wrapping an arm around me. “You were worried about me,” he teases.
I lie down facing him. “Maybe I just couldn’t sleep.”
The words would probably carry a bit more weight if I wasn’t cuddling into him as I said them. He’s so damn big. His legs are thick and strong, his arms too. There’s something about that broad chest that just calls to me and I run my hand over it, then down to his soft stomach. Six packs be damned. I’ll take a nice soft, warm guy any day.
“Whatever you need to tell yourself, baby.”
His hands thread through my hair, and we just lie there together for a while. “I should go back to my room,” I mumble.
“Mmm.” It’s not an argument or an agreement. That’s Trey to a tee. I’m cool with whatever is probably stamped on his birth certificate. Maybe that’s one of the things that attracts me to him. I’m not afraid of saying or doing the wrong thing. He doesn’t demand anything from me. It’s blissfully uncomplicated.
“Are you going home for Christmas?” I ask. It occurs to me I don’t know much about his family.
“No, I don’t plan on it.”
His fingertips run up and down my back, and I slide my leg between his, moving closer to him. “Won’t your parents be disappointed?”
“We aren’t really that close. What about you? Plans for the holiday?”
“Not Christmas, but I’m going home right after and staying through New Year’s Day. My parents are going on vacation and need me to watch my younger sister for the week.”
“Denton and Becca are going away for a few days through Christmas, so you’ll be stuck here all alone with me.” His lips press a soft kiss on my neck.
“That’s a month away. I’ll probably be back in my apartment by then.” My hands wander his body, caressing and exploring.
“We could still spend it together,” he says, breathing in a sharp breath as I run my hands between his legs.
“You want to bake cookies, sing carols around the tree and shit?” I tease, sliding my hand into his underwear to continue what I started.
“Or we could get high, eat cookies, and I can fuck you all night.”
“Sold.”
He grimaces as his hips jump forward. Stopping my hand, I look up at him. “Sorry, I wasn’t thinking.”
“I can—”
“No, but I can,” I interrupt. I’m sure he could fuck me, but it’d hurt him and I’m not doing that.
He groans as I slide down to take him in my mouth. “Fuck, Sasha.”
His curses and groans spur me on as much as his encouraging words. I love how vocal he is. It isn’t long before he tugs on my hair and utters through clenched teeth, “Going to come.”
The muscles in his thighs contract under my hands as I swallow him and it’s the sexiest fucking thing. He reaches down, pulls me back up into his arms, and holds me tight.
“Fuck, you’re good at that.”
Chuckling, I look up into his eyes. Satisfaction and exhaustion shine in them. His hand slips down the front of my pants, and I grab his wrist, pulling it back out.
“Let me make you come.”
“Not tonight. Get some rest.”
He plants a soft kiss on my lips. “I’m going to have to sleep on my stomach.” He rolls over, and I cuddle up against his side, my arm across his back, my leg hooked over his. His breathing becomes slow and regular.
I don’t know how long I lie there, running my hand over his smooth back, and admiring his face before I creep back to my room. He seems to get more attractive every time I’m around him.
Which is odd.
And terrifying.
* * *
“Come on, Sasha, don’t make me beg.” Elijah gives me a sad, puppy dog eyes look.
“Can’t you get someone else.” I glance toward Becca, who laughs and shakes her head.
“No way would Denton be cool with me going on an overnight date with another guy.”
“It’s not a real date, though,” I persist.
“Exactly.” Elijah’s gaze pleads with me. “I just need a date for my parents stupid anniversary party. The only reason it’s overnight is because it’s a state away and they have this brunch planned for the guests the next morning as well.”
“That’s really not helping your case, man. I have no idea how to act around rich people.”
He laughs. “They aren’t rich. They’ve rented out a wing of a hotel, but it’s not exactly five stars. It’s more of a country lodge. We’ll hang out at their party, take advantage of the free bar, then we’ll order room service and charge it to them. The next morning, we’ll eat and get the hell out of there.”
Sighing, I sit down at my work station. “Why is it so important you have a date?”
“Because my dad is an asshole who suspects I’m gay and if I show up alone, I’ll never hear the end of it.”
His response surprises me. How sad that his father is such a homophobe. “Why go at all, then?”
“I’ve already skipped the last few family functions, and if I don’t go, they may decide to visit me here.” I have about a thousand more questions that probably aren’t any of my business. Elijah has been a good friend to me, and I know he doesn’t know a lot of people in Morganville.
“Fine,” I groan. “I’ll go. Do I need to wear a dress?”
Elijah shrugs. “I’m wearing a button up shirt and dress pants without a tie.”
“Dress, but not fancy, got it.”
Becca chuckles at my tone of voice, and I flip her off. How do I get myself into these things?
The weekend approaches far too quickly and before I know it, I’m packing an overnight bag to go to the middle of nowhere Tennessee with Elijah. Becca and Denton are both at work, but Trey sits in the recliner when I drag my bag into the living room to wait for Elijah to pick me up.
“Are you moving back to your apartment?” Trey asks.
“No, I have that stupid party thing with Elijah, remember?” Trey didn’t seem too thrilled with the idea when I told him what I was doing, but he didn’t say anything.
“You need a backpack for a party?”
“It’s in Tennessee. We have to stay overnight.”
Trey opens his mouth to speak, but a knock on the door interrupts him.
“Come in!” I call, and Elijah steps into the room. It’s hard to believe he needs a fake date with his slender, muscled build, wild dark hair, and amazing lips. If I weren’t so focused on Trey, and we didn’t work together, I’d be looking forward to this trip a whole lot more.
Elijah and Trey exchange a hello and chat for a moment before Elijah grabs my bag. “Are you ready? It’s a long drive.”
“Yeah.” Things suddenly feel awkward. They shouldn’t. This is just a favor for a friend, and Trey and I aren’t together in any kind of official way. So why do I feel a stab of guilt when Trey forces a smile and tells us to have a safe trip?
Elijah and I have spent plenty of time together at work, so we have no problem finding things to talk about during the ride. We take turns controlling the music, and I’m having a pretty good time.
Elijah exits the highway and we turn onto a winding country road. “It’s beautiful here,” I exclaim.
“You should see it in spring or summer.” He makes another turn onto a narrower road that twists and turns so much I’m not even sure what direction we’re facing.
“How much farther is it?”
He flashes a grin at me. “I just drive until I hear banjos.”
“Well, you do have a pretty mouth,” I drawl.
The woods we’ve been driving through thin out, then open into a town. “You grew up here?”
“Yeah, it’s small. The population was around four thousand, but I imagine that’s dwindling. We get some tourism because of the lake, and that’s why the lodge is successful. It’s nice though, you’ll see.”
It only takes a few more minutes to get to the lodge. It’s basically a large, modern hotel nestled in the woods beside the lake. The décor is everything you’d expect for such a setting. The stuffed mountain lion in the lobby is a nice touch.
Elijah gives the smiling clerk his information, and she hands him two key cards. “Third floor. Take a right when you get off of the elevator.”
“Thank you.”
She bats her eyes at him and gives me a tight smile. No worries, lady. He’s all yours if you can convince him.
The dark wood paneled hallways are silent and peaceful as we make our way up to our room.
“What time does the party start?”
He unlocks the door to our room and hands me the extra keycard. “We have about an hour. Or an hour and a half if we want to be a little late. The less time I have to spend around my father, the better.”
The room is nice, with a beautiful view of the lake through the large window. Too bad we didn’t come here in the summer because it looks really inviting. One thing catches my attention right away. “There’s only one bed.”
Elijah grins at me. “I get the left side.” He laughs when I roll my eyes at him. “The sofa opens into a bed, relax. Damn, I’ve never had a woman so determined not to sleep with me.”
All kidding aside, I need to know something. “Did you hope I would if you brought me?”
He starts digging through his bag. “No, we both know that wouldn’t be a good idea when we work together. I want to keep the family drama to a minimum and having a beautiful woman on my arm will help. No ulterior motives.”
Grabbing my bag, I head for the bathroom. “I’ll go ahead and get dressed.”
When I come back out wearing the always acceptable little black dress with my hair in waves around my shoulders, Elijah’s eyebrows jump up.
He lets out a low whistle. “Damn, I changed my mind. Get in the bed.”
“Shut up,” I scoff, sitting on the edge of the couch.
“Fine, just an over the pants hand job.”
His teasing makes me laugh. “You don’t look too bad yourself.” That’s the biggest understatement ever. He looks sexy as fuck in his crisp white button up shirt and dark pants.
“Aw, thanks, that was almost a complime
nt.”
“So, what do I need to know? Like, how long have we been together?”
He sits down across from me. “I told my mom we’ve been seeing each other for about three months. I haven’t said much more than that. They know we work together, that you’re a tattoo artist too. Don’t worry, she won’t question you or anything. She’ll be caught up with her little social group. We’re just here for show because the town will be talking about the party and would love to point out her son couldn’t be bothered to show up.”
“Sheesh, people are that in your business here?” Morganville isn’t big, and there are some definite gossip mongers, but it’s not that bad.
“You have no idea.” He swipes his hair off his forehead. “We’ll just drink and dance and wait for the night to be over, okay?”
I shrug. “Drinking and dancing. Might be fun. How uptight of a crowd are we talking? Do we need to leave room for Jesus between us when we dance?”
Elijah laughs and walks over to the mini bar, pulling out two small liquor bottles. “It’s not that bad. Want to get a head start?” He waves a bottle at me, and I reach out my hand to take it. “Are you going to be okay with me touching you and stuff? I mean, we have to sell it a little.”
“I doubt you’ll be feeling me up in the middle of a party. The usual couple PDA is fine with me.” I grin at him. “Just don’t fall in love.”
Laughing, he drains the bottle in his hand. “Same goes for you. But you can totally feel me up if the urge strikes you.”
We kill the next hour, sipping our drinks and talking until it’s time to go down to the ballroom.
Elijah holds my hand as we enter, and I scan the room. Tables and chairs cover about a third of the room leaving plenty of space for the large dance floor, corner bar, and small stage where a band sets up. Servers arrange all types of food and hors d’oeuvres on long tables along one wall.
Maybe his family isn’t rich, but they aren’t hard up to arrange all this. At least the other guests who pour in aren’t decked out in fancy clothes, so I don’t feel underdressed.
“Incoming,” Elijah mutters, sliding his arm around my waist as an older couple approach us. There’s no mistaking the man is his father. The same dark hair, though peppered with gray, the same thick lips. His mother is small and thin with blonde curls.
