The Infamous Ellen James (Infamous Series) (10 page)

"Figured it out yet?" The shots of tequila are probably making the fact that I keep undressing him with my eyes very apparent, and I wonder how long I've been sitting here daydreaming about double-clicking my mouse to Trent Hamilton. I notice that Amy isn't even sitting with us anymore. She managed to find a small group of friends to chat with at the other end of the bar.

"Figured out that we've met before the day I came to Regency and scandalized you in the supply room?" He winks at me before taking a swig of his beer.

"So I'm not going crazy when I get a sense of déjà vu every time I see you?"

"No, you are most definitely not crazy. But you definitely have the most mesmerizing green eyes I've ever seen. They are driving
me
crazy." His gaze is determined and exuding enough heat that I could probably go ahead and take my clothes off right now…

"Are you trying to hit on me, Dr. Hamilton?" I look at him coyly.

"Maybe. Is it working?"

"Maybe." I'm lost in his eyes. Deep, blue, and completely overwhelming. Trent's eyes are like nothing I've ever seen before. I would crawl across this dirty bar floor on my hands and knees just to get a chance to gaze into his baby blues. I would agree to let Amy watch us have sex if it meant those eyes would be staring down at me the entire time, watching me come hard around his cock. I would do a lot of things for those eyes, and not a single one of them would be deemed okay to discuss in the company of other people. Those eyes make me visualize a thousand different sexual positions. If I ever found a porno that had a man with Trent's eyes, I'd end up with carpal tunnel from incessant masturbation.

"All right, little spitfire, it's your turn to take a shot." Trent places salt on his index finger, the shot glass on the bar, and the lime in his mouth, smiling big and wagging his eyebrows suggestively.

I laughed loudly. "You are ridiculous."

He just nods yes and continues to grin at me.

I lean down and slowly lick the salt from his index finger then suck his finger into my mouth for a minute, long enough to let him know what my tongue is capable of. He gives an almost pained look and I swear I hear a small groan escape from his lips. I slowly take his finger out of my mouth before leaning down towards the bar. I wrap my lips around the shot glass and, without using my hands, tilt my head back and let the tequila flow down the back of my throat.

Trent's gaze gets a little darker as I place the shot glass back on the bar and go for the lime. I lightly lick his bottom lip with my tongue and then take the lime out of his mouth and proceed to suck the juice out.

"Mmmmmmm," I purr before placing the lime into my empty shot glass.

I think I prefer my tequila Trent style.

Trent just stares back at me, eyes wide. He finally seems to come to his senses when he shakes his head slightly and smirks as he runs his fingers through his hair. "All right, Elle. It's my turn again."

"Only if you promise to tell me how we've met before." I point a finger at him, letting him know I mean business with this request. I
need
to know why I get this feeling of déjà vu every time I'm near him.

"Deal." He shoots a wink my way as he stacks our empty shot glasses and slides them towards the edge of the bar.

I order another round from Johnny. My horny vagina and puppy tits—yeah, I said it—decide to take charge of this one and make things interesting. I place the salt on my hand, shot glass between my tits, and lime wedge in my mouth. Trent meets my gaze for a second before his eyes focus in on my chest.

"You're going to be the death of me."

"Are you talking to me or my tits?" I'm mentally applauding myself for wearing my favorite Pink Floyd tank that shows off the perfect amount of cleavage.

"Does it really matter?" He unwillingly pulls his eyes back to mine.

I just grin back at him and shrug my shoulders slightly. He slowly licks the salt off of my hand and, without breaking eye contact, leans forward to take the shot glass from my cleavage. Just feeling his hot breath near my chest makes my nipples harden instantly. With perfect finesse and several intentional face-to-breast brushes, Trent removes the shot glass with his lips and tilts it back. He surprises me a little by actually taking the time to place the shot glass back where he got it from.

Oh my…

Nipples hard? Check.

Panties wet? Check.

I'm going to need my newly named Trent Hamilton vibrator tonight.

Trent slowly comes up to my lips and starts to suck on the lime while it's still in my mouth. This is the hottest, most painful foreplay I've ever experienced. My foggy brain decides that the lime is in my way of tasting this fine specimen of a man. I quickly slide the lime from my mouth, grasp the back of his neck, and then kiss him softly on his lips. A small moan escapes my mouth as that soft kiss turns fierce. His tongue slides passed my lips and I accept him with nothing but horny enthusiasm. Trent possessively pillages my mouth with passionate, rough kisses.

Nipples still hard? Check.

Panties still wet? Check.

Panties really wet? Double check.

Can I just have the actual Trent Hamilton tonight?

I have never been so turned on in my life. This ruggedly handsome man might literally kiss me into a sexual stupor. I begin to come to my senses and remember that we are in the middle of a bar, not in the privacy of my bedroom. I begrudgingly end the kiss, pulling away slightly breathless.

Thrust me. Thrust me. Thrust me.
My vagina is practically screaming for attention. She's in full-on "let's get laid mode" and I'm one hundred percent on board with this brilliant plan.

"Wow." Trent's eyes are lustful, and it's very apparent that he is as turned on by that kiss as I am.

"Yeah." He's basically stunned me into some sort of horny silence. I watch Trent take a swig of his beer and find myself being jealous of that fucking beer bottle.

Lucky bottle
.

As my brain finally starts to work again, I remember his promise from before our public display of horny shot-taking commenced. I hope this story doesn't end with an embarrassing twist or pathetic display of drunkenness. This is me we are talking about here; I managed to become a YouTube sensation overnight with my obscene demonstration of pelvic thrusting to the Harlem Shake.

"All right, fess up, Casanova. There is obviously some sort of story that I'm not aware of and
you
are going to tell me every detail." I lightly poke him in the chest.

Trent sets his beer bottle on the bar and grins back at me with amusement. "I have one word for you. Nashville."

“Nashville? As in Nashville, Tennessee? I don't see how that…"

I abruptly stop talking as my brain begins to catch up with the conversation. The last time I was in Nashville, I was presenting to a group of surgeons about the most recent changes to Regency's staffing protocols and nurse-to-patient ratios. My manager Shirley had convinced me to do this presentation in hopes that it would positively promote Regency's new state-of-the-art facilities, and that little presentation didn't end so great. Calling it a disaster is actually putting it nicely. This is just another perfect example of how I somehow manage to find myself in the most absurd situations. Trent is watching me intently as I slowly come to the realization that he witnessed my presentation.

Holy shit!

Trent Hamilton saw my moment of complete mortification. He was a spectator to one of my most embarrassing moments.
Ever
.

Oh my god! Someone put me out of my misery!

I put my hands over my face and drop my head to the bar. "Oh my god. Oh my god. OH. MY. GOD! You were there? You saw my presentation?" I ask into my hands as I shake my head in pure disbelief.

I can faintly hear Trent laugh a little and then feel his large hand rub my back. "Ellie, don't be embarrassed."

I quickly lift my head up off of the bar and give him an annoyed look. "Don't be embarrassed? Are you screwing with me right now? You witnessed one of the most embarrassing moments of my life! That moment was more embarrassing than the stupid
YouTube
video Amy posted of me!"

"YouTube video? Wait, what YouTube video?" Trent's voice is filled with curiosity.

"No way, buddy! You are not seeing that YouTube
video! One ridiculous display of my uncanny ability to make an idiot of myself is enough for you. And stop trying to change the subject!" I turn away from his deep blue eyes in a lame attempt to hide the mortification that is plastered all over my face.

Trent grasps my chin and pulls my gaze back to his.

"When I first laid eyes on you in that conference room wearing your fuck-me heels and tight black skirt, my cock was hard instantly. I had to adjust myself before I busted my fucking zipper. And then you were so god damn adorable during that presentation, Ellie, that I couldn't take my eyes off of you. I know you were embarrassed, but, sweetheart, I haven't stopped thinking about you since I saw you in Nashville.”

"You calling me adorable is not helping to ease my mortification."

I don't want Trent to think I'm adorable. I want him to think I'm sexy and irresistible; I want him to feel like he can't keep his hands off of me. Adorable is something you call your kid sister, not a girl you plan on taking home and fucking until she can't even remember her name.

Trent closes his eyes for a second, and when he opens them, his expression is serious, almost seductive. "Did you hear when I said my cock was hard instantly at the sight of you? Let me spell it out for you, because you obviously do not understand what I'm telling you. When I was watching you during that presentation, my mind was not thinking about patient ratios and hospital bullshit. My mind had you naked in forty different positions while I was fucking you senseless on that conference table."

Well, fuck me sideways.

"Oh."

Speechless.

This man has left me entirely speechless and aching for him to do everything he just said. There's a moment of silence between us as we continue to gaze at each other. I feel my breath hitch a little at the increasing intensity in his deep blue eyes.

"Ellie, I need to kiss you.
Right. Now
." He cups my face with his hands and brings my lips mere inches from his.

"Okay," I manage to breathlessly say before he pulls me in for a heart-stopping, mind-blowing, panty-dropping kiss.

After Trent practically kisses me into submission, we continue to talk about the infamous presentation. I explain to him what exactly happened and he finds every detail comical. If I would have been with John when that fiasco occurred, he would have been pissed at me—and
really
pissed at Amy. I'm kind of baffled by that fact that Trent just finds the story funny. I feel like this guy is just too good to be true. There has to be something wrong with him. Maybe he has webbed feet or a third nipple or some weird sex fetish where he likes to dress up in a bear suit and fuck women in the woods. I just can't imagine that there is actually a guy out there who is sexy, funny, and caring and who manages to embrace my frequent displays of awkwardness.

The rest of the night with Trent is perfect. He continues to make me laugh as we enjoy each other's conversation. He is a complete gentleman at the end of the night, instructing Johnny to call two cabs. To my vagina's disappointment, Trent doesn't attempt to go home with me. He softly kisses me goodnight and makes me promise to let him take me out on an actual date. I program my number into his Blackberry and silently pray that he actually calls.

Amy and I chat the entire way home. She asks me a thousand questions about Trent and makes me tell her every single detail about what it felt like to have his face between my tits. She apparently witnessed our pervy display of tequila shot-taking. After Amy grabs my boobs several times to see if my nipples are still hard, we finally make it back to our apartment. I quickly get ready for bed and practically face-plant into my mattress. The long day at work in combination with the amount of alcohol I consumed at Murphy's has me nearly comatose from exhaustion. As I begin to close my eyes, I hear my phone vibrate on my nightstand. I glance at the screen and see a text message from an unknown number.

Unknown:
Three things, little spitfire. 1. Save my number. 2. Remember to wear those fuck-me heels on our date. 3. Goodnight, Ellie girl. -Trent

He manages to leave me speechless.

Again.

I fall asleep with thoughts of Trent Hamilton dancing around in my mind. He's in a bear suit, screwing me in the woods, and I'm just yelling for him to growl louder. Webbed feet, third nipple, and weird sex fetishes be damned. Even if Trent happens to have some flaws, there's no doubt in my mind that I really like this guy.

Chapter Thirteen

“It's all fun and games until you're caught with a twelve-inch rubber cock strapped around your waist.”

I wake up the next day in a fan-fucking-tastic mood all thanks to Trent—or Dr. Beautiful as Amy has so generously nicknamed him. Well, she actually wants to call him Dr. Thrust Me, but we managed to agree upon something that didn't have the word thrust in it. Amy and I are chatting over coffee about last night. She might as well start a fan club for Trent Hamilton, because I'm pretty sure Amy is his number one fan. She just keeps gushing over how hot he is and how I need to let him take me to Pound Town.

I take a sip of my coffee and give Amy an annoyed stare. "Let's not turn this into something more than it really is. Trent and I barely know each other, and I think it would be in my best interest if we take things slow. John put me through absolute hell, and I really need to protect my heart right now."

Amy sets her cherry red "Eat Me For Breakfast" coffee mug on the kitchen table and smirks at me. "So letting him take a tequila shot from between your tits is taking it slow?"