Body Shots (10 page)

“So can I,” Trent bit out as he leaned down and kissed her nape.

Her mouth quirked up into a half smile. “Yeah, I noticed.”

“Crystal?”

“Yes?”
Uh-oh, here it comes.
She braced herself for the onslaught of questions to come.

“What do you say we go somewhere and get some lunch?” As he spoke, he slung his arm around her waist and hugged her close.

“L-lunch?” Not the question she was expecting from him, but who was she to complain?

He turned her around, then spoke in her ear in a deep whisper. “Yeah, I'm starved and I thought maybe you'd have lunch with me. That's why I stopped by.”

“Oh sure. That sounds lovely.”

At that, he left the drinks on the counter and began walking her toward the living room. When he sat down on the couch and pulled her down beside him, Crystal frowned. “I thought—”

“First, tell me about Richard,” he said. “How long were you married to that ass and why are you divorced?”

Shoot, she was beginning to think he wasn't going to inquire about Richard. She supposed it was too much to hope for. After all, Trent didn't seem the type of man to let matters like her being married simply go unexplained. She prepared herself to tell him all, every lousy, sordid detail. She wanted nothing to come between them, especially not her ex-husband.

“It's not a very pleasant story. Are you sure you want to hear it?”

He nodded. “Hey, if it makes you feel any better, we've all made mistakes. I've made my fair share. Big mistakes, little mistakes. Even mistakes I'll only share with the big guy upstairs.” He smiled then and said, “And I have all the time in the world for you, Crystal.” He looked over at her with honesty in his eyes, and it made Crystal feel immensely better.

“Well, he drank a lot, and he cheated on me,” she said, hoping Trent wouldn't want details. “It was a wreck of a marriage from day one, and divorcing him was the best thing I've ever done.”

“What an ass. If he cheated on you, Crystal, he must be a complete fool. What man would need any other woman, if he already had you?”

Trent frowned as if he wanted to wring Richard's neck. Lord, if Richard's infidelity did this to Trent, Crystal didn't think she could tell him about the abuse. It worried her a little, considering she tended to walk on eggshells around men and their tempers since her ex-husband's abuse. Trent's words warmed her heart somewhat, though.

He must have sensed she was too quiet, because at that moment he reached out and took her hand in his. He pulled her into a tight embrace, murmuring into her hair, “I'm sorry, baby. I just hate that he hurt you, but I promise you, no one else will, ever again.” She had a premonition that Trent could hurt her . . . if she allowed him to have her heart. However, she wasn't foolish enough to let that happen. Not ever again.

“Finish telling me what happened. I know there's more to it. I want to know everything, so don't even consider holding back on me, because I will know if you are.”

“Isn't that enough? He cheated on me, end of story. I divorced him and moved on with my life. This is the first I've heard from him in five months. I don't know why he's back. He says he wants us to get to know each other again, but I told him not a chance. There's no more to it than that. I didn't invite him over today—he came here unannounced, and unwanted.” She was talking too fast, but she was desperate for the conversation to come to an end.

He grasped her around the waist with both hands, spanning her waistline. She was so trim, his fingers almost touched together. She was perfect in every way. She fit his body, the way no other woman had. He watched her eyes heat up. He pulled her close to him, fitting her to him, and kissed her long and deep. With their lips locked together, Trent laid her down, then pulled away just long enough to ask, “Where's your roommate?”

“She's at work,” she answered, her voice a whisper. “She usually gets home around six.”

“Good,” he murmured, as he began to strip her naked. When her breasts were free, Trent groaned, dipped his head, and sucked one already erect nipple into his mouth. Sweet, soft, pink, and just right. He could feed on her for hours. He hadn't had any breakfast yet, and she was a meal fit for a king.

He flicked his tongue over and around her nipple gently at first, then rougher, demanding her flesh to beg for him. He cupped the round globe and pulled it up higher, kneading the supple skin with skilled fingers. He heard her moan of delight, and felt her writhing beneath him. He took joy in her animated responses to him. He gave in to his primal cravings and bit down. She arched upward compliantly. His hand answered her unspoken pleas: letting go of her breast, he journeyed down until he found her precious mound, shoving aside her shorts. His fingers delved at once, and his nostrils flared to life as he picked up her succulent scent. Anxiously, he searched through her damp curls and found her budding desire. She was swollen and throbbing already. He fondled and toyed with the little nub until the teasing became too much for even him. He lifted off of her, tore at the button fly on his jeans, and freed his erection. In the red haze of his lust, her pleading reached his ears. He looked down and saw her hands outstretched, waiting to take him into her arms, even as her body welcomed him. He went inside both embraces willingly, gladly, plunging into her with a quick kind of force that had them both groaning.

He pumped at her with a furious need that went as far back as time itself, coupling and claiming his mate with a demand that spoke of his passion. She came back at him with her own brand of passion, scoring his back with her fingernails, marking her territory. He reached a hand between their bodies, and touched off the beginning of her orgasm. She screamed and wrapped her legs around him, sending him over the same blissful cliff. He pumped into her one last time and exploded into her eager body.

Only minutes passed, but he lifted off of her, not wanting to crush her beneath his weight, then did up the buttons on his pants. He stood there a moment, transfixed, staring down at her sated body. A pleasant smile was on her face, her hair a mess of waves. Trent thought she'd never looked more beautiful.

Her eyes popped open just then. She stared up at him in awe, that smile never leaving her face, and said, “That was wonderful.”

Trent couldn't help the surge of pride that had him puffing up like a proud peacock. He smiled back at her and knelt down. With one arm under her legs and the other supporting her neck he picked her up and cradled her close to his chest. She beamed up at him, her look of sheer pleasure spearing his heart. He shook off the notion and said, “Time to wash, baby, and I plan on taking my time cleaning every inch of you.” He felt her tremble and she whispered in his ear, “You wash mine, I'll wash yours.” And it was Trent's turn to tremble.

 

Crystal felt like she was floating on a cloud. They'd shared something profound, and it went beyond hot and heavy sex. There was something about the way Trent looked at her, as if he was seeing her in a different way. Or maybe it wasn't different, but it was as if he was seeing her for the first time. Up until now their relationship had been largely based on mutual desire, chemistry, and sating each other's needs and wants. But with the morning came renewal. She felt fresh and new with Trent. Nothing was the same as it had once been with Richard. There was a comfortable feel about their relationship. She couldn't help the smile that beamed across her face; it seemed permanently affixed there.

Trent stepped into her bedroom and set her on her feet in front of him. Every small inch of her seemed seared by his intense stare. She took her hands to him and removed his shirt, then began with the buttons of his jeans. There was something incredibly intimate about undressing a man. Having her fingers where his usually would be, doing what he did every day, so routine for him, but so sensual to her. She undid the buttons slowly, one at a time, drawing out the anticipation. Trent stood, rigid and waiting. She could tell he wanted to simply rip the buttons away, yet he waited. She adored him all the more for it. She got to the last of them and pushed open his jeans. He had no underwear on. She could see the wavy curls, peeking out at all angles. Licking her lips she touched a finger at the vee opening and swirled her finger in the dense patch. He shuddered, grabbed at the sides of his jeans, drew them down completely, and stepped out of them. They stood in the light of day, naked and eager, both of them devouring the other with their eyes.

Trent was the first to move. He grasped her hand in his own and pulled her to the bathroom, turned on the light, and dropped her hand. He strode toward the shower and turned on the pulsing spray. The steam rose immediately and the bathroom was soon filled with it. She shivered, despite the warmth that seeped into her pores. Stepping in, he turned to her and held out his hand, and she took it and stepped in with him. He turned them so that she was under the massaging spray. First, he stroked his fingers through her hair, taming the curls and letting the water drench her. Her eyes closed, and his fingers continued their ministrations. For a brief moment his hands left her, but then they were back, and soon, the scent of coconuts reached her, giving her dreamy notions of being in the tropics with him. She smiled.

“Such a pleasing smile. What are you thinking of, baby?” His voice was soft as he spoke in her ear. She was completely entranced.

“I was thinking how nice it'd be if we were on some tropical island together.”

He was quiet for a moment, as if considering the idea. She was about to laugh it off as nothing, just a silly notion and nothing more, when he spoke again, his voice as warm as chocolate.

“I'd love to take you away from here, Crystal. Whisk you to some tiny little spot in the Caribbean. Steep you in wild, exotic flowers, play under waterfalls like a couple of children. Mm, yes, that does sound lovely. Think of that while I wash you, Crystal. Think of us dancing under the moon, and strolling along the beach. Making love in the soft sand at night.”

Crystal smiled with Trent's words moving through her mind. Then his soapy hands touched her body and her mind went blank. She moaned as he slicked the bubbly softness over her shoulders, over the indentation at her collarbone, down her arms, and finally to her waistline. He moved in swirls, up and down, touching her belly button lightly. A shiver ran through her. She had no idea the belly button was such a pleasurable spot on a woman's body. Though, every inch of her seemed to be one big erogenous zone where Trent was concerned. He traveled his way up her torso, massaging with his fingers till he reached her breasts. He cupped them and moved his hands in circling patterns, working both nipples at the same time, squeezing and plucking. She opened her eyes and, staring at him, silently pleaded with him.

He only stared back at her and shook his head. He was giving her the slow, gentle loving this time. Last night had been so frenzied that he felt she needed gentleness now. She wasn't sure what she needed, but she knew she needed him beyond anything else.

Trent's capable hands left her nipples and traveled south. He wasted no time on her belly this time, but went straight to her cleft instead. He delved into her with such swiftness that she jumped in pleasure, reaching out and grasping on to him for support. Their eyes never left each other. They were locked together. His two fingers were inside her body, his eyes snaring her in their sensual trap. She opened her mouth to protest, wanting him inside of her instead of just his fingers, but then he moved them in circles, like he had with her breasts. He moved slowly inside of her, around and around. Her head fell back and she whimpered. One strong arm went around her for support, while the other kept up the assault inside her body. She fairly melted into him. He released her at once, and slipped his cock inside her wetness. He moved her legs to his waist and she rode him.

“God, yes, Crystal.”

He leaned down and sucked at her nipple hard, biting at the turgid bit of flesh. She flung her arms around his back and clutched him to her, digging her nails into his fleshy muscles. He pumped once more, and their climaxes rose and crashed at the same time in perfect unison. He was perfect for her, she thought. They fit together like a supple glove.

They stood, quivering muscles, hot water sluicing their bodies, locked in their loving embrace for a few minutes longer. Trent pulled her into his chest one last time, pulled back, and stared at her flushed face.

He smiled. “Let's go shopping after we grab lunch.”

Crystal just stared at him, shocked to silence. Shopping was the last thing on her mind. He was still inside of her. She couldn't think straight with him like that. She doubted any sane woman could. As if he'd read her thoughts, he pulled out of her slowly and set her on her feet—not at all what she wanted. She was wobbly, as if she'd just worked out, though Trent had done all the work really, and he wasn't even breathing hard. She frowned at the thought of shopping.

Trent touched his finger to her chin and tilted her head back. “Why the frown?”

“I don't want to shop. I want to stay here with you. All the rest of the day, making love.”

Her pout nearly did him in. She was so damn cute, and she had him wrapped around her little finger so tight. But he was determined to buy her something. He wanted to pleasure her in every way, romance the socks off of her. Maybe if she was plied with enough loving, gifts, and pleasures, she'd be easier to convince that their relationship was special. Hell, he'd try anything, really, but in the end he couldn't imagine life without her.

She was independent enough to give him a fight, but feminine enough to enjoy the romancing. Maybe, just maybe, he could convince her that it was in her best interest to stay with him. “How about a little something to tide you over? Then we'll go to lunch and shopping.”