The Infamous Ellen James (Infamous Series) (15 page)

We move our conversation to the comfy leather couch in front of the ginormous flat screen television. I'm a little buzzed from the wine and can feel my face flushing as I register the fact that I might get into Trent Hamilton's pants tonight.

"What's with the blush, babe?" Trent puts his arm around me and pulls me closer to his side, rubbing his thumb across my cheek.

I let out a nervous laugh. "Uh…I'm not blushing. I think I'm just warm from the wine."

Or maybe it's because I keep staring at your crotch and wondering how big your dick is.

"I was hoping you'd say it was from me and the dirty things you're thinking about doing to me," he says with a wicked grin.

I playfully roll my eyes at him and shake my head.

"Are you sure, Ellie girl?" He's persistent and continues to gaze at my lips.

"No." I bite my bottom lip and my breath hitches.

"You weren't thinking about doing dirty things to me?"

He leans in closer, his breath warm on my mouth. He places his hand underneath my chin and brings my eyes up to his. His stare is heated, passionate, and it's practically burning me. I have no words. Literally, I have zero words to say. I'm speechless and dive lips first towards Trent's mouth.

Our kiss is hot, rough, and desperate. I've been thinking about kissing those lips again for far too long. Our hands are everywhere, all over each other, as his tongue slides against mine. His taste is sweet and devastatingly delicious. He roughly grabs my hips and pulls me onto his lap, my legs straddling him. I let out a breathy moan as he continues to kiss me deep and strong. His mouth is unrelenting on mine and his hands are in my hair, pulling me close, my breasts pressed against his chest. He trails kisses down my jaw and then his tongue is on my neck.

Oh fuck.

I moan loudly as my head falls back and I start grinding into his arousal.

He pulls the top of my strapless dress down, freeing my breasts. My nipples are hard and begging for his touch. Trent leans down with a groan and sucks me into his mouth. I'm writhing against him with desire and the intense, overpowering need to feel him inside of me. I vaguely hear my phone ringing in the background, but my brain just continues to ignore it and live in this moment with Trent. While he's licking and suckling at my breasts, he slides a hand up my thigh and under my dress. I feel his large, warm fingers slide my panties to the side and begin to rub soft, smooth circles against my clit. My hips jerk at the penetrating feeling that radiates up my spine.

"You're wet. So fucking wet," he says as he slides a finger inside of me.

I hear my phone ringing again, but my vagina is calling the shots at this point, and she doesn't give a shit about a phone call. Getting thrusted is her priority—her
only
priority right now—and I'm practically begging Trent to put his cock inside of me.

"Please…
please
…Trent, I need you inside of me."

He continues to slide his finger through my wetness as he brings his mouth to mine and kisses me with a fierceness that has me involuntary clenching.

“I want to feel you do that around my cock. Fuck, I
need
to feel you do that," he moans into my mouth.

“Yessss… Harder, Trent!" I yell out, my voice breathy and thick with wanton desire.

I'm grinding myself down onto his hand and practically riding his fingers. His continued assault on my clit has me panting and nearly screaming his name.

"Oh god, yes!" I moan, before his lips crash into mine.

"God I want to taste that sweet pussy, baby."

And that little line of dirty talk has me clenching his fingers tightly and coming with an intensity I didn't know was possible with just Trent's hand alone.

Oh holy orgasm.

I think I may have just had some type of unintentional spiritual awakening. What's going to happen when he thrusts inside of me? Death by motherfucking orgasm, that's what…and I will for sure rest in peace.

Trent takes his fingers that are drenched in my arousal and rubs them across my breasts, coating my nipples with my slick wetness. He gazes at me with hunger in his blue eyes and says, “I can't wait to taste you." And then he leans forward and sucks my nipple into his mouth.

Fuck, that's a hot move.

He's sucking and licking at my breasts like he can't get enough, and I feel him huskily moan into my chest. "Elle, your pussy is perfect. I want to bury my face between your legs all night, just to keep your taste on my tongue."

I think I just came again
.

I start to unbuckle his belt so I can finally see that gorgeous cock I've been dying to feast my eyes on. And again I hear my phone ringing followed by several text message notifications. A large sigh escapes me, and Trent rests his forehead against mine.

"I think you need to answer that, babe."

In my head, I'm screaming, “God dammit! Can't a girl get finger-banged without being interrupted?”

I quickly get up off the couch and grab my phone from my purse. I see several missed calls and text notifications—all of them from Amy. The last text message she sent gives me pause.

Amy:
Emergency. Call me back ASAP. Lizzy is here. She's shitfaced and crying.

What in the hell? Lizzy? My sister Lizzy?

I call Amy and I'm surprised to find out that my sister Lizzy showed up at our apartment with several suitcases in tow, saying she left her husband. Apparently she's drunk and sobbing. My heart breaks for her, but I'm not going to lie, I'm pretty pissed she decided to show up on this night
of all nights
.

And why is she running to me?

The last time I spoke with her was weeks ago. I tell Amy that I'll be home shortly and to keep Lizzy away from our liquor cabinet, because it's one thing to ruin your sister's chance of getting dicked by a hot, sexy guy, but it's a whole other thing to drink her alcohol supply. Alcohol that I'm most likely going to need tonight…

I also think my sister just gave the greatest unintentional cock-blocking performance of all time. She's now the MVC.
Most valuable cock-blocker.

As Trent and I head out of his apartment, I think I can quietly hear my vagina crying as she puts Celine Dion on her iPod and calls it a night.

Chapter Sixteen

“Once you hit the age of fourteen, you should not have a day-of-the-week reminder on your snatch.”

Trent and I walk into my apartment to find an annoyed Amy and
extremely
drunk Lizzy. I don't recall a time where I have ever witnessed my older sister this intoxicated. She puts new meaning to the term intoxication. Her bags are strewn across my apartment as she rummages through her largest suitcase, throwing random items of clothing out onto the living room carpet. She's disheveled and her lack of clothing has me slightly concerned about what I'm going to face tonight—and more importantly, for the next few weeks.

Lizzy's auburn hair is stacked in a messy bun on her head, and her mascara seems to be attempting to make a great escape to her neck. She's stumbling around in an old t-shirt, and her pants have yet to make an appearance to this little party.

Her white cotton panties say “Thursday” across the front. Unfortunately, it's not Thursday. It's actually Friday, and the Lizzy I know would have never let a travesty like this occur. She's normally organized and has every detail planned to perfection, including her day-of-the-week underwear, which I'm a little shocked to see she still wears. I feel like once you enter adulthood, day-of-the-week panties should be pulled from your wardrobe. Lizzy is thirty-four years old. I'm pretty sure she doesn't need a reminder on her snatch to figure out what day of the week it is.

“Hey! It's my sister! My Ellie Jelly Belly!” Lizzy nearly tackles me in the kitchen with a sloppy hug.

“Hi, Lizzy. I'm a little surprised to see your face tonight.”

I attempt to disentangle myself from her vice-like grip around my neck. I settle myself against the counter, crossing my arms over my chest. Trent is sitting across from me at my kitchen table. He's leaned back in the chair, hands behind his head, and a perfect picture of relaxation. I'm glad someone is relaxed.

I, on the other hand, am far from relaxed. I've got a drunken sister who resembles a hobo traipsing around my apartment like she owns the joint, and my juice-box is pretty angry she didn't receive a good screwing tonight.

“I fucking hate my husband. Matt Montgomery 'the third,'” She attempts to use finger quotes to accentuate her comment. “He's a tool. A stuck-up momma's boy.” I'm going to have to work with her on better insults. Later of course, once she's sober enough to comprehend English.

“I get that you're pissed at Matt, but what made you come all the way to Charlotte? Not that I'm not thrilled to see you, but this seems a little out of the ordinary for the Lizzy I know.”

I need to figure out what in the hell has caused my sister to drive over seven hours and throw herself on my doorstep. The girl that is stumbling around in front of me is a chick I've never met. This isn't Lizzy, not by a long shot. Lizzy is prissy and conservative, and she always has everything in its perfect little place. This chick is drunk and obnoxious, and she has a serious issue with wearing pants.

“He doesn't care about me. He cares about his lame job and stupid car and golf clubs,” she slurs out, before opening the fridge in search of something, most likely more booze.

“Does Matt know you left him, Lizzy?” I'm obviously getting now where fast with this conversation tonight. She's too befuddled to give me an inkling of an idea of what caused her to drive to Charlotte and unload this shit storm on my doorstep.

“Nope.” She pops the 'p' loudly with her lips and then takes a seat next to Trent, giving him an interesting facial expression I can't really distinguish. I'm thinking it might be an attempt to be sexy, but I'm not really sure.

“What about Mom and Dad? Do they know you're here?”

“Nope. I just packed my bags and
blew
that popsicle stand.” She attempts to seductively accentuate the word blew as she stares intently at Trent.

God, first this bitch strolls into my apartment drunker than Snooki at the Jersey Shore house
,
interrupts my finger-banging session, and now she's trying to flirt with Trent. This entire situation is comical. I look back and notice Amy watching the entire spectacle go down from her cozy spot on the living room couch. Amy just grins back at me and I flip her the bird. She laughs loudly before giving me a sympathetic smile, indicating she realizes how hard this entire ordeal is going to be.

“Well how about I go ahead and call everyone, let them know where you're at, and then you can sleep in the spare bedroom tonight.”

“I don't want to go to sleep right now. I want to meet your friend.” She's still staring at Trent, who is currently looking back at me with an amused grin.

“Well my
friend
—”
I start to say but then I am abruptly cut off by Trent.

“
Boyfriend
.” He's smiling warmly at me, and I can't help but return the smile.

“Lizzy, this is my
boyfriend,
Trent Hamilton.” I'm shocked that he's already prepared to call himself my boyfriend. We haven't even banged it out for fuck's sake, but I can't deny the fact that I love the idea of Trent and me together.

“Oh. He's
your
boyfriend? Shit. Where did I go wrong? He's fucking hot.” She appraises him greedily with drunken eyes.

After hearing Lizzy say the word fuck for the fifth time in the last fifteen minutes and eye-fucking Trent for another fifteen minutes, I realize my top priority is to get her boozed-up ass to bed.

“He's all right, but I think it's time for him to leave. He probably has to be up early tomorrow.” I'm attempting to discreetly hint to Trent that we need to cut my sister off from conversation for the rest of the evening.

“Elle is right. I've got an early surgery schedule tomorrow. Nice meeting you, Lizzy.” Trent stands up from the kitchen table and gestures for me to follow him to the door.

“Surgery schedule? What the fuck? You're hot and you're a fucking doctor! Well fuck me sideways and call me Sally. My little sis has hit the jackpot! I'm so fucking jealous of you right now!” Lizzy slurs.

Then she proceeds to pull out a frozen pizza from the freezer.

“I'm fucking hungry! Pizzzzzzzzzaaaaaaa. I want pizzzzzaaaaa.” She tears open the cardboard box and throws the frozen pizza into the oven, which is still currently off. “I can't wait to eat this shit.” Lizzy plops herself down and rests her head in her arms on the kitchen table.

Fingers crossed she passes out.

“I got this, Elle. You go ahead and tell Trent goodnight.” Amy walks into the kitchen and takes over drunk-girl babysitting duties.

“Let me walk you outside. I'd like to say goodnight to you without my sister screaming out about your hotness.” I smirk at him as we walk towards the front door.

Trent places his hand at the small of my back and leads me towards the elevator. We make our way downstairs and outside to his truck. He walks around the back and drops the tailgate down so he can sit on it. Trent wraps his arms around my waist and pulls my body between his thighs.

“Come here, little spitfire.”

I make myself cozy in Trent's embrace and wrap my arms around his neck. He's warm and comfy, and I wish I could stay tucked in his arms for the rest of the night.

“Thanks for letting me off the hook tonight with the boyfriend comment. I think that was the only way Lizzy was going to stop being so relentless in her drunken pursuit of getting into your pants.” I laugh into his chest.

I feel Trent take a deep breath, and strands of my hair blow out past my face. “You really don't get it yet, do you? It's okay. I'm a patient man. I have no problems with waiting until you catch up.”