Trent (Redemption Romance Book 4) (4 page)

“You stopped,” she pouted, narrowing her eyes even more.

“I did, sweetness. I had to, or I wouldn’t have stopped until I had you naked in that bed and you know I’d keep you there for days.” I warned her with a smirk.

Shrugging her shoulder, she waved her hand in the air, and confessed, “I wouldn’t have protested.”

Devilish little minx, was she trying to kill me?

“Baby, please,” fucking shit, her face turned ghostly white as soon as I called her baby. A few days after she’d lost our child, I’d called her that, which had been a normal endearment for me before. She’d started crying, so hard, I’d worried about her making herself sick. She begged me not to call her that anymore, and I’d just forgotten and done it anyway.

“Shit, sorry, sweetness,” lowering my head, I pressed my cheek into hers and buried my face in her hair. It was going to take a long time for me to feel secure and confident with her again, it would be a learning curve for both of us, finding our way together. We were the same as before, but we'd changed too. It was an odd mix, and I had a feeling the road ahead would be full of landmines and pitfalls.

Hands firm, she pushed back on my chest so that she could meet my gaze. Shaking her head, she told me, “You can’t be second-guessing yourself all the time. This is what I’m saying. I’m such a basket case. Still, it’s been over eight months since, and I can’t talk about it. I don’t know that I’m ready, maybe-”

“No,” I said, cutting off her next sentence. “Hell no, I’ve got you back in my arms. There is no way I’m going to let you go again. I don’t care how many mountains we have to climb, we’ll do it together.” My look was fiercely determined, I knew it. There was no way I was going to get this far and slip backward.

“Trent, I’m afraid. I'm so scared that I'll go through that again and terrified not to try again. All I've ever wanted was a family, and I know it's the same for you. I don't think I can give you what you want. My mom had five miscarriages. Can you imagine doing that five times?” She asked, imploring me to, what? Agree with her? No idea, but I wouldn’t do that.

“Listen, if it happens again, we’ll weather it together. Together, not you shoving me out the door and dealing with the grief alone.” I told her sternly, lifting an eyebrow.

“Honey, if you don’t want to try again if you don’t think you can handle it again, then we won’t, okay? We can be the best aunt and uncle on the planet to all of our friends’ kids or if my sister ever has kids. We can adopt, we have options.” God, I prayed she was listening to me, no way could I hold up another eight months without her, the last had been horrible.

Waking every night, feeling like part of me was missing had been terrible. Knowing that it was Amber that I needed to feel whole, and I couldn’t have her, not until I wore her down had been almost too much to take. I didn’t want to feel that way ever again.

I watched her for a few minutes, assessing her, looking for any more damage I was doing. She looked okay like she was thinking about everything I’d said.

“One thing that I won’t budge on, though, is holding you in my arms tonight and every night from here on out.” A ghost of a smile crossed her beautiful face before she laid her head on my shoulder and began to trace lazy patterns around the buttons on my suit shirt.

Yanking the top three buttons opened, I kicked off my shoes and tried to get comfortable in the monkey suit. It was impossible.

“Why don’t you change?” Amber asked, speaking quietly, still focused on her tracing.

“I have a bag in the car, but I don’t want to get up and go get it.”

“You have stuff in your drawers,” Amber admitted, sounding as if she were confessing something.

Knowing that she hadn’t gotten rid of my things, that she hadn’t even moved them was a balm to my battered soul. It was as if she knew I would be back for her. Kissing the top of her head, I lifted her into my arms as I walked into the bedroom.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Amber shrieked as I tossed her onto the bed.

“I’m lonely. I wanted you to come in here with me.” I told her, trying to pout so she’d take pity on me and never leave me alone again.

Rolling her eyes at me, she shook her head and flopped back onto the bed. As soon as the sound of my drawer opening bounced around the otherwise quiet room, I heard the movement of bedsprings as she moved up to prop her head on her hand. Just for fun, and to torture her a little, I took my time with each and every button, making sure I flexed my muscles as I worked.

Since I was facing the dresser, she had a perfect view of my ass and back. I was doing my best to remember that dumbass male stripper movie she made me watch one night. She’d offered me a blowjob right in the middle of it, and hey, yeah, blowjob, right? But no, I mean, there were dudes stripping on the screen. If my dick got hard, I had no idea what that would do to me, but I didn’t want to take the chance and weird myself out. Besides, what if I couldn’t get hard, then she would have been all upset or something. With all that shit still in my head, I put what I learned from the movie to good use.

I backed up from the dresser far enough that I could bend over without smacking my face. Bending one leg, to pull the trouser pants tighter, I pressed back into the fabric, giving her the perfect view. I took my time removing one sock and then the other, tossing them back over my shoulder as I did.

If I turned around and she wasn’t watching, I’d lose my fucking mind. Forcing myself to stay in character, I didn’t look, but fuck did I want to. Trying to make unbuttoning a shirt look sexy was difficult. That shit was not sexy. Neither were socks. There was nothing sexy about pulling off dress socks.

I remembered a few years ago, a stupid video went around about business socks for 'business time.' That shit was funny, and I had to stop myself from chuckling as I thought about it. I was almost tempted to put the socks back on and let her know that these were my business socks because this was business time. But, I didn’t, I held my shit together and stayed focused. Sexy undershirt. Yep, my undershirt was so sexy, I had to rub my chest while I pulled it off, over my head.

As with the socks and shirt before, the undershirt went sailing across the room, to destinations unknown. I was shirtless, erect and so horny I could probably cum in two pumps, and remembered that I was supposed to be taking this thing slow. Fuck, why was I stripping for her like a fucking moron if I wasn’t going to touch her?

I was going to have a serious case of blue balls. I wondered if she would have something like that too, blue pussy. That sounded like a drink. Something my sister would order at the bar, ‘three blue pussies please,’ her crazy ass would probably make that up too, just to get a reaction out of people, then she’d pretend not to notice.

Hearing Amber's excited gasp from across the room brought my focus back and encouraged me to continue. Maybe I could get her off at least, that would be taking it slow, right? Why was I taking it slow? I couldn’t remember right now, maybe I’d remember after I touched her again.

The hiss of her iPod dock sounded, just before the thumping beat of Ginuwine’s "Pony" started to play. Damn woman. I had to fight my laughter but did my best to stay in the moment. Turning my back to her once again, I opened the fly of my pants, moved my ass in rhythm with the beat and slowly slipped my hand inside. I turned to the side so she could see the downward motion of my hand. Gliding it back up, over my abs then my chest, I tweaked one of my flat nipples and almost winced in pain.

My free hand got into it too, I felt like an asshole, rubbing all over myself like that, but I heard Amber snicker a couple of times, so at least I was entertaining her. If she got turned on, that would be great, but if all she did was laugh, I'd take that too.

After slipping both hands under the waistband of my pants, I pushed them down, trying hard to stay focused and keep my movements in rhythm. When they were down around my knees, I grabbed the top of her dresser and moved my hips, mimicking fucking her against it, which I’d done many times before.

I could feel the heat of her gaze, and I loved it. I’d missed the shit out of this girl and the fucking crazy ass fun we’d had together. She’d been the best woman I’d ever known. Letting loose, I got into the music, and forgot all about taking it slow.

Moving from the dresser to the wall, I spun around, let my pants fall the rest of the way down, leaving me in just my skin tight boxer briefs. They were her favorite, and I knew she could see the outline of my dick, as well as the piercings strategically placed in it. The ink on my biceps, chest just above the waistband of my briefs turned her on every time.

With my back against the wall, I moved to the music, one hand above my head. I pressed back into the wall, which I knew would accentuate my muscles. Keeping my eyes closed, I knew I’d never get through this if I looked at her, most likely we'd both start laughing.

My free hand skimmed down my bare chest, pinched a nipple again, but much more gently this time. Then with one finger, I slipped under my briefs. I didn’t let her see the prize, she loved to be teased, so I figured I’d give her exactly what she liked.

Wrapping my fingers tight around my throbbing dick, I kept my hand still, fingered the apadravya piercing and fucked my fist, allowing her to see the exaggerated movements my hips were making.

Finally, I lifted my chin and opened my eyes, making eye contact with Amber. She was sitting on the side of the bed, completely naked, legs spread wide, and running her finger from her mouth to her nipple. Jesus, I had to squeeze my dick really hard all of a sudden to keep from cumming in my shorts.

Deciding to move this thing along, the song started again, she’d put it on a continuous loop, obviously. As I moved to her, I slipped the hand from myself and wrapped it around the back of her head. Thrusting toward her with the music, I crouched down, allowing my hands to glide over her skin then I captured her wrists and placed them on my chest.

As I moved in front of her, she slid her hands up and down my abs, my chest, over my hips, to my ass, down to my legs and back up to my arms.

Amber's hand paused, and her entire body stilled completely as she found the words that had been added to the tattoo on my right arm. “Forever Amber” was now scrolled below an intricate flower design.

My body stopped, and I watched her, curious how she'd respond. She looked at the letters, then traced them with her sweet fingers until she finally met my stare.

“Trent?” She asked quietly.

“It was always you, Amber, only you.”

Tears sprang to her eyes once again, but this time, I was able to run my thumbs under her eyes and catch them. Leaning in I kissed the apple of each cheek.

“It was only you, for me too.” She admitted, giving me the information I desperately wanted but had been afraid to ask.

With both hands cradling her face, I kissed her with every bit of love I felt. Pressing her back, I followed her down onto the mattress. Instinctively, we began the rhythm of two people who’d been intimate more times than we could count. We knew exactly where to touch, how to kiss, when to stroke. There was no fumbling. Amber played my body like a master, and I worshiped hers like it was my lifelong mission, which it was.

Kissing across her collar bone, she shivered in delight, so I sucked her soft skin into my mouth, laving it with my tongue. I pressed my erection into her naked, wet, puffy lips and stroked over her clit, rubbing the metal ball over her and putting pressure on all the right places. She’d always loved my piercings. When we first started dating she’d begged me for the story, which I, of course, did not tell her.

Our lovemaking had turned from fun and playful to sensual and intimate. The music, however, hadn’t changed, so it was easy to fall into that rhythm once again. Kissing down her center, I licked her tight nipples but kept on going. I knew what she liked, her pussy would drip for me. I could lick her in just the right spot, and she’d blow.

I could remember the first time I’d gone down on her, we’d been in my truck, after eating dinner out. She’d been kissing the side of my neck, pressed up against me in the truck. As she ran her hands up and down my arms and chest, teasing me, playing with me, I could smell her increased arousal. I’d pulled off on an old farm road, then crowded her back, so she leaned against the passenger door.

Pushing up her legs, so her feet were flat on the seat, her skirt fell away naturally, revealing the smallest pair of lacy red panties I’d ever seen. First, licking her over the lace, I brought her to climax, nipping at her clit with my teeth. Then I moved the fabric to the side and fucked her hard with my tongue until she came all over my face.

Thankfully, now she was already naked, so I had no barrier between my girl and me. Lapping, laving, licking, sucking, biting, stroking, fingering, plunging, loving, every single thing I can do to her cunt, I did. I relished in the feel of her tight walls, constricting around my finger and tongue over and over again until she begged me to stop.

Moving up over her, I whispered "I remembered what you taste like, I never forgot. I've dreamed about it so many times."

Amber tilted her lips up and caught my mouth with hers. Her kiss was appreciative and lust filled. I knew she'd be able to taste herself on my lips. That was something that always got her going before.

Breaking away from the most perfect mouth, I leaned over to look at the floor and searched for my pants. If she had condoms in her nightstand, they’d be expired by now. Thankfully, I’d had the forethought to bring one, or maybe two.