Until Series: Box set (44 page)

“Very hungry,” he says, standing up. I start to look around for my shirt, because apparently, we were going to go get something to eat! Well, he is going to get something to eat; I’m going to find a way to kill him without going to jail. My head is turned when I feel his hand at the waistband of my jeans. He yanks and pulls them off. I’m startled and then pulled not-too-gently to the edge of the bed. There’s no time to prepare before he attacks me, his mouth latching onto my clit. The heels of my feet go to his shoulders; my hips lift, and my fingers grab onto the top of his head.

“Yes,” I moan, lifting and grinding my hips.

“You taste so good, baby.” His hands go under my ass, lifting me closer to his mouth. I start breathing heavy, feeling like I’m getting ready to fall off a cliff. “Come for me,” he whispers as he licks me, circling my clit. I’m so close; I just need something else.

“More,” I whimper, not able to form a complete sentence.

“What do you want?” he asks against me, his voice rough. I can feel the stubble of his jaw scraping against my skin.

“You. I need you!” I cry. He drops my ass, spreads my legs further apart, then two fingers enter me, pulling up against my g-spot so quickly that I shoot off the bed with the force of the orgasm that explodes through me. I fly apart while seeing stars; my body’s on fire, every nerve feeling exposed. When I finally come back to myself, Trevor’s above me, his clothes gone.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, taking my mouth in a deep kiss. He pulls me forward, removing my bra. I can feel his body press against mine, his hard muscles covered by smooth skin, his weight pressing me into the mattress, his size surrounding me, making me feel fragile and safe. He pulls his mouth away from mine and he looks at me. I can see the same desire coursing through me in his eyes. “My turn,” he says against my lips. Before I can ask what he means, he’s slamming into me. My legs circle his hips; my nails dig into his biceps. My head flies back, my body arching. “Jesus,” he grunts, stilling his movements, his forehead laying against my chest. “So perfect.” He slides out, then back in slower.

“Finally,” I breathe. I have wanted this for so long, and finally having it is like every holiday rolled into one. He starts to speed up, his hand traveling down my side, all the way to my knee and he pulls it up; I can feel him deeper. He’s so thick and long that every time he fills me, I bite my lip against the slight sting. I can feel myself tighten around him; I’m getting close.

“I fucking knew I’d love your pussy, baby,” he says, sitting up on his calves, pulling me up with him so we’re face-to-face. “Wrap your legs around me.” I do what he says. His hands slide up my thighs, to my ass, waist, and ribs; one stays there while the other tangles into my hair. “Move with me.” He pulls down on my chin with his mouth so I’ll let go of my lip. We start rocking together very slowly, his eyes never leaving mine. “Are you mine, Liz?” he whispers his question, and I nod my head. “I need to hear you tell me that your mine.” I swallow; for some reason this feels like something else, more serious than the ‘will you be my girlfriend’ question. “Say it, Liz. Tell me that you’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” I whisper, feeling like I just gave a giant piece of me away to him, knowing that it’s something I can’t take back.

“That’s right, baby. You’re mine; don’t ever forget it,” he says harshly, before he starts lifting his hips harder and faster. I bite down on his shoulder to keep myself from screaming out. When I feel myself tighten around him, he pulls my face out of his neck, and slams his mouth against mine. His other hand goes to my breast, pinching my nipple, sending me over. I hear him rumble my name, following behind me with his own orgasm. We’re both breathing heavy, my face tucked under his chin, his arms wrapped around me. I can’t help the laugh that bubbles out. “Why are you laughing?” I can hear the smile in his voice.

“Just thinking that you proved a whole lot of people wrong.”

“What?” He asks, bending back so that I’m now sprawled on top of him. He pulls my hair away from my face, tracing my eyebrows. I look in his eyes; they are so warm that I can hardly breathe. “What?” he asks, more quietly this time.

I shake my head, clearing my mind. “You know the old saying? Guys who drive big trucks have—” He rolls us over so I’m under him, and he grits his teeth, sliding out of me.

“Don’t finish that thought.” He shakes his head, chuckling.

“What? You don’t have that problem.” I laugh when he starts tickling me. “Okay! Okay! I won’t talk about it!” I yell.

He stops his torture, his elbow going into the bed next to my head. “You ready to get out of town?”

“Yes. Plus, I’m excited. My mom is the happiest I have ever seen her.”

“George is a good guy,” he nods.

“Yeah, he is,” I agree. My mom met George two years ago online. George had been divorced for four years; he waited until his youngest was in college before he started looking for a relationship. He had gone on a few blind dates and nothing ever worked out. One day, he was home watching TV and a commercial about an online dating site came on. He said “what the hell”, and signed up. That was around the time I signed my mom up behind her back. I wanted her to be happy. I hated seeing her so lonely; she deserved to find someone. Shortly after I signed her up, George sent her a message. That’s when I told her about the site and what I did. At first, she didn’t want to write him back, but I convinced her that if she didn’t like what he said through e-mail, that she never had to speak with him again. So she took a chance, and after a few e-mails and phone calls, they met up. He lives about an hour from us in Alabama, and since their first meeting, they have been inseparable.

“I’m going to talk to George about what’s going on.”

“No, you’re not!”

“He needs to know in case something happens.”

I narrow my eyes, “What could my brother possibly do?”

“Did you ask yourself what he could possibly do before he stole your money? Then called you needing more? He’s calling your mom, saying he’s working undercover; do you not see how fucking serious this is?”

“Yes, I fucking see how serious this is!” I yell, stand up on the bed, and look down on Trevor where he’s lying. “He is my brother; the same one who took care of me after my dad died.” I can feel my chest heaving up and down. “So excuse me if I don’t want to call the police or tell my mom. I’m trying to help him the only way he asked; he said he needed more time, so that’s what I’m giving him.” I jump off the bed. Realizing that I’m Naked, I stomp to the dresser and grab a shirt. Stomping into the bathroom, I slam the door and turn on the shower.

“Don’t walk away when we’re talking.” I hear him say as he opens the door.

“
You
were talking, Mr. Know-It-All,” I say, pulling the shower curtain closed behind me. I grab my shampoo, squeezing half the bottle into my hand out of anger, that pisses me off even more; its expensive shampoo, and you’re only supposed to use a little. I hear the curtain slide back, but I ignore it, and continue washing my hair.

“You’re pissing me off, baby.”

“You’re pissing me off, baby,” I mimic. I can’t help it; he makes me so mad that I revert back to being five-years-old. I hear him laugh, and I want to punch him.

“Have I ever told you how cute you are when you’re pissed?” I open one eye to look at him. Sure enough, he has a big smile on his face. He takes a step towards me, his hands going to my hair. “I know you love your brother, baby, but you need to know that if something happens because you keep trying to protect everyone, you’re going to end up feeling like shit, because you could have said something.”

I know he’s right, but I’m torn. My brother and I were close after my dad died and my mom closed down. He was all I had for so long. I close my eyes, my forehead going into Trevor’s chest. He steps us back so I’m under the showerhead and starts rinsing my hair. He then leans over me, grabs my conditioner, squeezes the bottle, and then his hands are massaging it into my hair. “I know you’re right,” I whisper, guilt eating me alive. “I keep praying that Tim will come home and do the right thing, but deep down, I don’t think that’s going to happen. But I don’t want to give up on him either.”

“You’re not giving up on your brother. You’re giving him a chance, and letting the people who could end up hurt prepare.”

“How can I want to kiss you and punch you at the same time?” I ask, shaking my head.

“You’re kinky like that,” he says, tilting my head back. Before I can say something smart, his mouth touches mine, his hands travel down my sides to my ass, and he lifts me, my legs circling his hips. “I didn’t use a condom earlier,” he says against my lips. I freeze, pulling my mouth away from his. “I’m clean.” He turns, pressing me against the tile.

I swallow; why didn’t I think about that? I shake my head. “I’m on birth control,” I say, more as a reminder to myself. Then he thrust inside me. “November got pregnant when she was on birth control,” I say out loud to myself again, then moan when he withdraws, only to press inside me harder than before. My head falls back against the tile. He doesn’t say anything, just continues to slam inside of me, his mouth sucking and licking my neck, collarbone, and breast. When his teeth scrape against my nipple, I feel myself start to come around him; my nails dig into his shoulders, my legs tightening, pulling him deeper.

“Jesus, you have the tightest, smoothest fucking pussy.” His hands squeeze my ass harder, lifting and pulling me down on him in fast rapid thrusts. “This is what heaven must feel like,” he grunts, his pace becoming more erratic. I can feel him hitting against my cervix, the slight pain bringing me closer to another orgasm. When I feel him start to expand, I come again, leaning forward, biting down hard on his shoulder. We’re both breathing heavy when my mouth lifts away from his skin.

“I’m sorry.” I touch where my teeth marks are imprinted into his skin.

“Don’t be. I love that I can make you lose control. That’s how I want you. That’s how you make me feel; it’s only fair that I make you feel the same.”

“You’re always in control.”

“Not with you.” His jaw clenches, his eyes looking angry.

“Is it so bad?” I ask, looking over his face.

“Not always,” he looks at the tile wall behind me. “Unless you consider locking someone away so that no one can touch them a ‘bad thing’.”

“I think they call that kidnapping.” I smile and he shakes his head, his eyes coming to mine.

“You are the one thing that scares me. Your power over me scares me.”

“You scare me, too.” I lay my head against his shoulder. He lifts me up and I feel him slide out; he kisses my hair, then let’s go of my legs so I slide down his body, and when my feet hit the floor of the shower, I take a minute to get stable. Trevor’s hands hold my face as he kisses my forehead, nose, and lips.

“You will always be safe with me.” I am not sure if he is right; I know that there will come a time when he will want more than what I can offer him. It wouldn’t be fair of me to keep him from having a family, even if it killed me that I couldn’t be the one giving it to him. “Are you off tomorrow?”

I shake my head. I can’t talk over the lump in my throat. As he takes his time washing me, he’s very gentle between my legs. Once he’s done, I step out of the shower, making sure not to look at him as I grab a towel. I put it to my face, taking a few deep breaths. “Do you work tomorrow?” I ask, as I lift my head once I know I’ve gotten myself under control.

“Yeah, I should be home early. When do you get off?”

“Well, Mom left today, and tomorrow is my last day until the day after we get home. Bambi’s going to be looking over the store while we’re gone, and November is going to help out as well.”

“Are you sure you should trust Bambi?” he asks, as we walk out of the bathroom into the bedroom.

I laugh and his eyes narrow. “Oh stop. Just because she is immune to the Mayson men’s charms, doesn’t mean she is a bad person.”

“You trust people too easily.”

“November is going to be there with her for part of the day. I need to have people I can trust with my business, or I’m going to end up never having a break.”

“I’m going to see if my mom can go over a couple of the days.”

“Trevor—uh—what’s your middle name? How do I not know this?” I bite my lip and try to remember if I have ever heard it anywhere before.

“Sorry, that’s top secret information,” he smirks, walking to the dresser; my eyes follow him as the muscles of his thighs and back stretch and expand, showing off the tribal tattoo that travels up his wrist, under his collar bone, down his chest, over his ribs, along his side, down his hip, and ending on his thigh. I love that tattoo. I want to lick it and trace it with my tongue; each step he takes makes my mouth water. When he looks over his shoulder at me, I look away, quickly pulling my towel tighter around my body. Until that second, I’ve never felt self-conscious about the way I look. Looking at him now, with not one ounce of fat on him, I’m thinking I should start to do some sit-ups, or maybe a few squats. “You keep thinking all those dirty thoughts, baby, and I’m going to be ripping your towel off and fucking you against the wall.”

“I wasn’t having dirty thoughts. Not all of them were dirty anyways.” I mumble under my breath. I walk to my bag that is shoved under the bed, pull it out, grab a pair of panties, and slide them up under my towel. Then I find a tank top and slip that on over my head, removing the towel from under it. I bend to find a pair of shorts. I start to lift my foot to put them on, when they’re snatched out of my hand. “Hey! I’m going to wear those!” I yell, glaring at Trevor, who has my shorts balled in his fist.

“As sexy as that show was,” he says, shaking his head, “you’re in my house. I’ve finger fucked you, eaten your pussy, and been inside you without a rubber. You are not going to hide your body from me.”

“You’re such a jerk,” I say, feeling my face burning bright red.

“Only because you’re not getting your way,” he shrugs, tossing my shorts on the bed, before walking out of the room. I’m reaching across the bed to grab my shorts when my ass is slapped, then I’m tossed over his bare shoulder and carried to the kitchen, where he puts me on the counter. My brain is still trying to catch up with what just happened; I can’t even form a full thought. “You want a sandwich?” he asks causally, walking over to the fridge. He starts to pull out lunchmeat and cheese; he sets them next to me before going to grab the bread. “Do you want a sandwich?” he asks again.