“Where’s your room?” he asks, biting my bottom lip. I inhale sharply and my core floods with heat. I want him again already.
“Farthest door on the right,” I tell him. “I have to get the groceries ordered first.”
“I’ll bring your stuff up too,” he assures me, kissing me again before heading up the stairs.
The minute he’s gone, I take a deep breath, my hand sliding over my heart, trying to calm the wildness in it. “I take it things are better?” Evita asks, slipping her arm in mine. I let her lead me to the kitchen where it’s more private.
Keeping my voice lowered, I turn to her. “I didn’t get anything at home. My father is clammed up. It still doesn’t feel right.”
“What are you going to do then?” Evita whispers, and her arm wraps around my shoulders.
“I don’t know.” I shake my head, because I’m just as lost today as I was a week ago after hearing Trent’s recount of things. “Until I can do some more digging on my own, I need to keep giving him information. Little pieces, so he stays off my back and doesn’t question me.”
Evita’s thumb slips to her lips and she bites the edge of her nail, thinking. “What about his cell phone?”
I let out a breath. “I already sent it on our way to the airport. Trent hasn’t even noticed it’s gone yet, so it’s probably not likely he keeps important information in it.” I scrub a hand down my face, while the guilt eats at my insides.
“Don’t be too hard on yourself,” Evita rubs a hand across my back, “If you don’t give your father something, you’re right, he’ll suspect something. There’s a good chance he could insert himself if he thought you weren’t delivering. Until you find out everything, you need to also keep yourself safe. Your dad would not hesitate to go after you.”
I nod my head, feeling the throbbing in my temple. He wouldn’t hesitate to go after me and he sure as shit wouldn’t think twice about putting a bullet in my head if he thought I might double-cross him. I am playing a dangerous game.
“Well,” Evita steps out and takes the grocery list from me, “How about I go see Rosa about this and you go find lover boy?”
My brow rises. “You sure?” She nods her head smiling before skipping out the back patio doors. I don’t hesitate, running through the house to the stairs, pumping my legs until I reach the floor. It’s quiet, so I tiptoe my way down to my room and push the door open. The first thing I notice is the ocean smell in the air and the billowing, pastel blue curtains swinging in the breeze. Smiling, I step out onto the deck and slide up behind Trent, my hands lacing around his front. I hear him grunt, then his hands are covering mine. He turns in my arms until we’re chest to chest. The bright sun brings out specks of gold in his hair, and his skin already looks a shade tanner. His blue orbs land on mine and I’m hypnotized by their color. Exactly that of the ocean behind him. I smile and he smiles too.
“What do you think?” I ask, looking around us before gazing back at him.
“I think you’re beautiful,” he answers, leaning down and touching his lips to mine. My arms instantly wind themselves around his neck, and I’m lifted up to the very tips of my toes. The sundress I’m wearing rides up my legs between us, and I gasp into his mouth, when I feel his fingers graze the edge of my underwear.
“Inside,” I manage to get out before I’m completely lifted off the ground and carried into my room. It briefly crosses my mind that I hope everyone makes themselves at home, before all my senses and thoughts become focused on Trent and the magical way he plays my body.
Thankfully, no one comments about Trent and I being locked in my room all day; they act like it never happened. Evita mostly kept everyone entertained and showed them the beach. Once Rosa knew we were there, she had snacks made and kept drinks in a cooler for them.
Everyone decides they want to eat dinner out, so I bring them to a hidden gem in the city area. Not only do they have the best authentic Mexican dishes, but they also play live music. Ayda was excited when I told her this. The girl likes to dance and launched into stories of her and a few friends sneaking into clubs around Florida. Sam did not look happy with that news, and I almost wanted to laugh at the shocked expression on Ayda’s face. I wonder for the hundredth time if no one else sees it either.
We get there early enough to snag the best table and order a heaping amount of food. The guys dig in like it’s the last meal. Rounds of margaritas make their appearance for us ladies, thanks to Evita, and soon, my blood is pumping in rhythm to the music. I sway in my chair until Evita is done. We pull Ayda with us to the dance floor, right as it starts to become crowded. Song after song, I sway my hips, feeling the beat and twisting around. Sweat trickles its way down my back, but I don’t feel it. The white sundress I threw on twirls around my legs, bunching at my hips when I want it too. The band plays “Biddi Biddi Bom Bom” by Selena, and everyone cheers.
I feel my own heart skip a beat when a pair of strong hands land on my waist, and I’m turned so we’re face to face. Trent’s button-up shirt is untucked, and the sleeves are rolled up, showing off the flex of his arms when he pulls me closer. “Dance with me,” he whispers against my ear and shivers run over my skin. I nod my head yes, and he takes my hand while the other grips my hip, low enough that my skin burns under his touch.
My eyes widen in surprise at Trent’s moves. His hips move sinfully, while he pushes and pulls me around the dance floor. I’m impressed and easily lose myself while dancing with him. He spins me around before pulling my body into his, my knee rising up against his hip before he dips me back, my hair almost grazing the floor. Trent pulls me up slowly, agonizingly so, as his tongue licks a path up my neck, right under my ear. My nerve endings fire, and desire floods my core. I feel my pussy get wet, and I want nothing more than to wrap my legs around him, climb him and make him take me home. Trent Nichols does not play fair. At least the dance area is dark enough that no one else saw, and no one can see the flush creeping over my skin.
Trent lowers my leg to the ground and spins me so my back is flush to his front. I grind back into him, and he swivels his hips to the slow tempo of DaVido’s “Risky.” I feel hot all over, my skin sticky, and I still don’t want to put any distance between our bodies. If I could, I would crawl inside Trent. I swear he can read my thoughts because, soon, he’s maneuvering me out onto the deck and into the cooler night air. Couples out here are still dancing, while others gather around the edge of the bar. Trent leads me over to the rail, a wolfish grin on his face.
“I’ll have to give you margaritas more often,” he tells me, leaning down close to my ear so only I can hear his words. Even sweaty, he smells delicious.
Trent barks out a laugh. “You smell pretty amazing yourself, Scar. I know you taste even better.” My hands come up to cover my face, realizing I’m thinking out loud.
“Yes, you are.” Trent is still smiling, and I think I hate him, then he pulls me closer. “You don’t hate me, baby. You love everything I do to you, and I happen to think this drunk babbling is adorable.”
I full-on pout. I’m drunk, and I don’t give a crap. I want to give him a piece of my mind, but the way he’s looking at me right now, the hunger, the raw emotion flashing in his eyes, stops me. It steals my breath away. Then I hear it. The one song I’ve always sworn would be my wedding song. If I lived long enough to get married. It was my mom’s favorite and the haunting lyrics yank on my heart strings.