The Possibility of Trey (16 page)

My arms were around his neck and one hand firmly embedded in his hair to hold his face to mine. I was staking my claim and knew it.

He tightened his grip and I felt my toes leave the floor as he stepped backwards, his mouth never leaving mine. I was lowered back to the floor and he seemed to sit on the edge of the bed but, with the angle of his head, with the depth of our kiss and due to the blaze that was building to a firestorm I was only marginally aware of the change in our position.

When we let go, his head was lower than mine.

"Christ, Dallas," he murmured before one hand caught the back of my head and his forearm went under my ass to bring me into his lap in a straight on position. Without being asked, I opened my legs and straddled him as our mouths continued to delve deep. I didn't even try to help my moans as the hard length in his jeans pressed against my pleasure spot. His hands moved to my thighs and dragged me upward as they moved to capture my ass, a hand on each denim-covered cheek.

Once in place, it was his turn to groan. I pulled back, wanting to see his face to see the evidence of what he was feeling and got caught up in the pure pleasure I saw exhibited.

The look there almost made me dizzy in its open honest desire.

He wanted me in a major way.

The want within me throbbed in response.

He twisted and pushed us up further on his bed, all the way to the pillows as I was rolled over onto my back.

"Okay so far?" he breathed, his eyes gauging and assessing whatever he was seeing in mine.

"God, yes," I murmured back, reaching for him again. I felt incomplete without his mouth on mine, without his tongue inside. And I could feel the other parts of me beginning to beg for his attention as well.

"Take your boots off, Dallas," he murmured between soft pecks against my already swollen lips. "Socks, too."

We both got rid of our footwear but I swear our eyes never left each other's faces as we did so.

"More," I groaned as soon as my feet were bare, reaching for him. I was so hungry for the taste of him, I didn't want to let go even as he tried to pull away.

"Shirts, honey," he advised as if to offer an explanation as to why we were no longer feasting at each other's lips. I whipped my t-shirt off and watched as he copied my move, exposing his ink. I allowed my greedy eyes to roam over his skin, taking in the breadth and power of his chest and the compressed rolls of his abs.

In the ensuing silence, I raised my gaze to his only to see him eyeing my sports bra.

"What the fuck is that?"

"My…ah, bra," I offered but my voice almost sounded like I wasn't quite sure
what
I was wearing.

His fingers trailed from my collar bones to my waist as his eyes roamed over the different ribbing and panels. He was frowning.

"I know it's probably not what you're used to…" I hedged as I squirmed to think up an explanation to prevent his obvious complaint. A man like Trey was in all probability very familiar in an upfront and personal way with all the bras and panties in that girl's secret catalogue. "But I need it for work."

The question in his eyes said more than enough, and I couldn't help my arms from crossing my chest to hide both it and my boobs from his view.

"How the fuck do you get out of it?" His tone showing his disbelief that a person
could
remove what I wore on my chest.

"It's stretchy. I just slide it on or off."

"It doesn't look stretchy," he protested, pinching the lower band between his fingers and pulling at it before raising his eyes to mine. "It looks…torturous."

He wasn't too far from wrong with that assessment. My girls were of such a size that I was left with red indentions in my shoulders and ribcage when I took the damn thing off each evening.

"No, really. It's okay. Watch," I offered, trying to sound optimistic as I curled up and begin to inch the tight spandex up, careful to not catch the tight band which encircled my ribcage in the mounds of my breasts. After a few moments, I had it up and over my head, slung to the side of the bed. "See. Easy!"

But when I looked at him, his eyes weren't reflecting my triumph. They were on what I'd exposed as his fingers trailed over the red marks I knew were visible and that were starting to itch.

"Fucking beauty," he breathed on a low note and I eased myself back down into the mattress, feeling his gaze on the unencumbered mounds of my chest as it seared in a straight line to the throbbing between my legs. He leaned back over me, pressing his chiseled chest to the fullness I usually tried to hide as his lips grazed my collarbones, sending a trail of goosebumps that seemed to culminate in my nipples.

"Trey?" I asked but I heard the whimper, the need in my voice.

Perfect red-brown met my gray as he slid his fingers to the waistband of my jeans, easily popping the button and sliding the zipper down. Which caused my hips to move upward involuntarily. Not to be out-matched and feeling his attention was too fully on me, I dragged my hands from his shoulders to his waistband.

"I need to see you, to touch you." His voice was so low and such a soft rumble, I wasn't sure if he was talking to me or himself except for the fact we were staring into each other's eyes. I'd never had this before, this deliberate exposure of my flesh done in that way. Most of the times I'd gotten naked with a guy, it had been in the dark or, in a couple of instances, underneath the covers.

This way, Trey's way, seemed more personal somehow.

And, from what I'd gleaned over the last few years, sex was, if nothing else, supposed to be personal.

She was fucking beautiful.

More beautiful in the creamy skin that she'd been born with that he could've ever imagined, than in all the fantasies he'd entertained over the last few days. A morass of curves, deep cambers between tits, waist and hips that made his balls ache.

"This is what you hide beneath your clothes?" he'd asked without thinking. "God, Dallas. You're like a fucking wet dream walking."

Which had caused her busy hands on the fastening of his jeans to still and a haunted look to enter her eyes. "I don't…ah, I mean, I haven't…ah…"

"Shh, honey," he found himself saying impatient now and brushed her hands away in order to take over the stripping off of his jeans and boxers himself.

He had to have her and had to have her immediately.

As soon as the pool of fabric was at his ankles, he was on his feet, intent on divesting her of the remaining clothes she wore—which were only her jeans and panties.

"In the drawer next to your head. Condom," he instructed almost unable to speak in his haste to be inside her.

"Sorry?" she murmured and his eyes went from her plain white, cotton bikini panties back up to her face. A face that seemed stunned at how quickly he was moving. He dropped his eyes back down to her hips trying to determine when he'd last seen plain panties. Underwear so simple and yet so very innocently sexy.

Never, he decided.

As soon as her jeans and panties were on the floor, Trey covered her body with his own. "I was asking you to grab a condom from the drawer in the nightstand closest to your head."

"Oh. Okay," she murmured as he watched and felt while her body shifted beneath him to do as he'd asked. "There's nothing in there."

What? Of course there were. He always had condoms on hand. Christ! That was at the compound. He hadn't had sex in his house for years, keeping that part of his life completely separate from where he lived.

"Shit," he groaned and rolled onto his back, using a hand to cover his eyes. The lack of protection was agony, a let-down after coming so fucking close. Sure, there were other things they could do, lots of way to have fun but was she willing to play that way?

"Trey? It's okay. We don't have to do it tonight," she murmured, resting her head on his shoulder as her naked warmth curled against his side. Her hand rubbed over his chest as if to soothe him. If he wasn't mistaken, she'd sounded as disappointed as he felt. And, with that shared emotion, Trey found the humor in the situation allowing his body to wallow in it as the laughter came up and out of him. And for several moments he was lost in his own mirth, the fucking irony of their circumstance.

He saw she wasn't in the same place, eyeing him with trepidation as he had to wipe his eyes and clench his stomach to control the chortles that still leaked through, barking his amusement at the ceiling. "Seriously? You don't find this funny?"

"Well…no," she said moving, almost inching her way to the other side of the bed before sliding herself under the covers.

But, then, how could she?

Blessed with a high sex drive, no lack of available partners and a zealous desire to learn all the secrets of the female form, Trey had started his sexual journey early in life. Maybe too early because now, in his mid-thirties, he'd become calloused to the act. The faces and bodies of his conquests all ran together in his memory, no one distinct girl coming to mind. No connection with any of them except for his sheathed cock shuttling between his partner-of-the-moment's lips or legs. So much so, he no longer gave a thought to or even cared whether they found their own pleasure when he fucked them.

So it was the ultimate joke, the penultimate quirk of fate that the one girl he wanted to share ecstasy with, the one who's elation he was determined to witness as he plumbed her depths was, for the moment, unavailable.

He gained a measure of control before he turned and scooted until he was against her duvet covered form. "Okay. So we can't do that right now. But, we can…do other things."

"What things?" Her eyes were quizzical in the dim light. She had the covers pulled up to her mouth, causing her voice to be muffled.

"You know. Fool around. Like when we were teenagers. When we wanted to but were afraid to actually 'do it'." Trey was uncertain if his explanation would be enough but, god, he hoped it would be even though he'd never gone through that stage when he'd first started out.

"Fool around?"

"Yeah, like play the bases. Touches over then under the clothes although I'm not sure how that would work since we're both naked." He could feel his eyebrows come together as he tried to think it through. "We can still use our hands and mouths to obtain the objective."

"The objective?"

"This echo thing you've got going is cute as hell, pretty girl," he advised as he lifted up on an elbow and rested his head in his hand, making sure he held her gaze. "I'm talking about making each other feel really good."

At her frown, he explained further. "With nothing but our hands and our mouths."

Her expression shot straight to the epitome of 'shocked' which delighted him to no end.

"Uhm," she said, the covers over the lower half of her face dropping down to her neck which showed her lower lip firmly held between her teeth. "You mean like oral?"

"And other things. Is that a problem?" His heart was racing with anticipation.
This was gonna be fun!
he thought with delight. Apparently his girl hadn't really experimented much back when she'd dated. And he was thrilled he'd be the one to show her all the delights to be had even outside of being ball deep inside her.

A lesson he'd be sure to give at the first available opportunity.

"I don't know, Trey…" Her voice and facial expression betrayed her uncertainty much more than her words did.

"The rules still apply. If I go too far, make you feel uncomfortable in any way, then you just tell me to stop, okay?" Although, he didn't know how he'd be able to keep to his promise as punch drunk as he was with just the thought of having his hands on all her beautiful curves. "Let's go back to kissing. You like me kissing you, right?"

In answer, his girl offered up that pouty, gorgeous mouth as her hands released the covers and went around his neck.

.
.
.
.*

I really didn't understand what Trey was talking about when he said we could act like teenagers. All I really knew was that what fantasies I'd been holding in the deep recesses of my brain regarding being in bed with him weren't going to be happening that night.

It was bitterly disappointing.

To have him laugh his ass off over it though kind of freaked me out because at the time we'd started getting naked, I thought we were on the same page. At the same level of arousal. But when we discovered no condoms were available, I'd wanted to cry out at the unfairness. And by the time he'd started sniggering, I felt the need to cover my nakedness. There was no reason to be nude in front of him if we weren't going to do anything.

His voice had become a background noise as I added that night to the list of my life's unrealized dreams. Just another indication how out of control my life was and continued to be.

That was, until he mentioned kissing.

Kissing Trey was never disappointing.

Kissing Trey took me out of my life, my head and set my soul (and body) soaring.

Kissing Trey was flipping
awesome
.