Sated (13 page)

Coming down hard on top of her, Trey buried his face in her hair for a moment, attempting to regain control. The sensation of her beaded nipples scraping across his chest almost sent him over the edge. Unfortunately, the scent of coconut and campfire assailed his senses the second he pressed his face to her neck. It made matters worse rather than better.

“I want you inside me. Please, Trey?”

A growl rose in his chest at her plea. He didn’t want to be rough with her, but he was having a hard time stopping it from happening. With shaking hands, he brushed her hair away from her face. While holding her stare, he reached between their bodies, positioning himself at her entrance. Rolling his hips, he slid in an inch before retreating. Arbor gasped. Her hips left the bed, chasing after him. Trey eased inside once more. This time, he rocked against her. Skin on skin, dragging across her clit as he went. Her moan broke him. Slamming home, Trey covered her mouth with his and muffled her cries. He loved the way they tasted.

Pressure crawled up his body, making his skin feel too tight and his balls heavy. Sweat slickened their bodies. His bottom lip was numb. The air felt too heavy to support his lungs. None of it mattered. It was all part of a greater goal—owning Arbor. When she came, her cunt sucked at his cock. His balls drew up tight. The universe held its breath. Poised on the edge of orgasm, Trey lifted his head and met Arbor’s gaze. Her light green eyes shoved him into oblivion. For a moment, in Arbor’s embrace and the throes of passion, his soul was clean.

Chapter Eight

“The world is moving on without me, and I’m not sure what to do about it. My mom started dropping hints about me coming back home the other day. Hell will freeze over before I leave the home I shared with Lyric and Killian. Money buys good lawyers, and the guys made sure I was taken care of. Thank goodness. It would’ve killed me if I’d been forced to move. The biggest problem now is, it’s not just my mom. Trey is trying to be supportive, but it’s wearing thin. Sometimes, I catch a glimpse of it in his eyes before he can hide it. He wants more than I can give him. Why are they all so blind? There isn’t anything left of me except for what they can see on the outside.

Yesterday, I passed a woman on the street. She smiled at me. I didn’t smile back. As it was happening, I felt nothing. There wasn’t any guilt. She’d done nothing to make me angry. I wasn’t sad. I simply felt nothing. Afterward, I sat in the park for hours, searching inside myself for any hint of life. It’s gone. Honestly, I don’t believe I’m so pathetic I’m incapable of going on without Lyric and Killian. Every day, the sun rises and I still get up, but when they died, something inside me broke. Not even that. Broken implies there’s a possible fix—pieced together. I am splintered. Irreparable. There’s no pain. My tear ducts no longer work. Pity the screaming in my head doesn’t show any sign of letting up. My heart has been rendered useless. For the life of me, I have no idea what to do. I’m dead. My body just hasn’t gotten the memo.”—Feb 22
nd

“I gotta go back to work, baby.” Trey’s lips clung to her neck. Arbor tried valiantly to pry her eyes open.

“Give me a second. I’ll walk you to the door.” In spite of her best efforts, her words came out sounding slurred. Arbor could feel Trey’s body shaking with suppressed laughter. His lips shaped into a smile against her throat as he buried his face against it.

“I think I can find it by myself. You need to get some sleep.” Even though Arbor wanted to argue, she couldn’t work up enough energy. Instead, she ran her fingers through his hair, savoring the sensation of the silky locks slipping through her hand. His palms slid down her ribs. Even half asleep, Arbor savored Trey’s barely restrained power. She’d seen his strength in action and knew what he was capable of doing. After a full minute of stroking her skin and placing light kisses on every place he could reach, Trey broke the silence.

“I don’t want to leave.”

At his admission, Arbor tightened her hold on him and made a confession of her own. “I don’t want you to go.”

His hand slid higher, cupping her breast lightly before moving to the side of her neck. The pads of his fingers stroked the column of her throat. Arbor felt more than heard his breathing shudder. When he spoke, his voice sounded hoarse.

“I love hearing you say that.”

She chuckled. “It’s the truth. Would you like me to say it again? I don’t want you to go.” Working up some Herculean strength, Arbor rolled, forcing Trey onto his back. She straddled his hips. Without giving him a chance to protest, she snagged the comforter and tucked it around them as she settled down on top of him. “See. Now, you have a valid excuse. If your boss has anything to say, you can tell him in all honesty that you couldn’t toss an innocent woman to the floor.” His low rumble of laughter felt wonderful vibrating against her cheek.

“Damn. I wish…” He paused, seeming to think it over. “Well, I wish for too many things to name, but I don’t think they’ll go for your logic.”

She smiled against his chest, toying with his nipple and making him groan. “I’ll write you a note.” Now that she was awake, an outrageous desire to make him happy was driving her to go as far as needed.

His arms encircled her, squeezing. “What would it say?”

“Hmmm,” Arbor said, dragging it out. “How about this?
Please excuse Trey from work last week. He was bedridden
.”

“Last week?” The laughter in Trey’s voice made her cheeks ache as her smile grew.

She nodded. “Yep. Week.”

Trey snorted. “Bedridden,” he repeated with another chuckle. His hands slid south. With her mind locked on the sensation and her breath held in anticipation, Arbor forgot to keep up her end of the conversation. Cupping her ass, Trey squeezed. The ripple of his abs caressed her over-sensitized pussy as he dragged her up his body. She couldn’t have stopped it from happening, even if she wanted. Trey was too strong. Arbor was too willing.

“One more taste, okay?” Trey said, sounding as if he thought she would argue. “Let me feel your tight cunt surrounding my tongue one more time and then I’ll go.”

In light of his serious tone, Arbor held on to every quip that raced to her lips. Instead, she willingly followed his guide as he urged her to place a knee on either side of his head. She held on to the headboard for support. With her chin on her chest, Arbor stared transfixed as he kissed her inner thigh, moving higher. His mouth opened over the spot he kissed, sucking lightly.

“Come back, okay?” Trey froze, as if her plea surprised him. Slowly, he turned his head, meeting her gaze, and she clarified her outburst. “As soon as you can, I mean. Wasn’t trying to get clingy or anything,” she added, getting worried now.

His eyes burned. There was no other way to describe the fire dancing in his gaze as he stared up at her. She almost wished she could take it back. As he held her stare, Trey lifted his head from the pillow while drawing her hips forward. He moved slowly, as if dragging out her anticipation of his touch. Pausing half an inch from his prize, his intensity raced up another notch.

“You make me hope and dream,” he said as he claimed her. The last ounce of worry Trey hadn’t managed to squelch with his words, he wiped away with pure passion.

* * * * *

The door clicking closed behind him sounded closer to the slamming of a dungeon as Trey pulled it shut. He didn’t make it five steps before his will gave out. Right outside her apartment, Trey’s knees refused to hold him a second longer. He slid to the floor. Teeth locked and head between his knees, he did his best to hang on. He could feel Lyric’s and Killian’s accusing eyes boring into the top of his skull. Their positions mimicked his own, making Trey wonder how long they’d been sitting there. He wouldn’t ask. They knew it. If the pair were anything like him, they stayed there every second Arbor wasn’t with them. Waiting. Helpless. The pieces had to come together naturally or fall apart, shattering them all. That was the deal. Four quarters making a whole. They were an oddity. A rare object for any collector, especially one as old as time. An entity who’d seen everything.

Unfortunately, their bargain was fragile. No cracks or no deal. Everything hinged on Arbor. Eternity was balanced on the strength of her love. Unable to stand another second inside his own head, Trey stared at the men sitting across from him. As always, they were unnaturally quiet. Still waters. Killian and Lyric were exactly like the river outside Arbor’s favorite window—inviting a person in only to sweep them away.

With his elbow braced on his knee, Trey held his head in his hand, incapable of looking away from the pair. Killian’s hair stood on end. Trey knew from experience it was his style, rather than the sign of a frustrated man. He stared back at Trey. His eerily light blue eyes dared Trey to look away first. He did, but only because Lyric drew his gaze. With his sandy-blond hair pulled back away from his face, doing nothing to hide the worry written there, he chewed on his thumbnail while eyeing Arbor’s door. His intense stare made Trey wonder if he was attempting to will Arbor into opening it. The faded Exile shirts, distressed jeans, and biker boots were such a familiar sight to Trey. Nostalgia rolled over him.

“We would’ve done anything for you.”

If Killian expected that his declaration would break Trey, then he was in for a long and disappointing night. There was nothing either man could say or do that Trey hadn’t already done to himself. Unlike them, he was accustomed to being alone, unloved, and unwanted. In an odd twist of fate, it was his thoughts that ended up besting him. Trey didn’t need to wait for either man to think of a new jibe. As usual, his mind was his biggest enemy.

“Not anything.” Trey’s voice shook, even he wasn’t sure if it was from rage or pain. Perhaps it was a combination of both. He glanced away, clearing his throat before trying again. This time, when he met Killian’s stare, his words came out dripping with every ounce of bitterness he’d built up in the past eight months. “In the end, you weren’t there to do anything at all. You weren’t around to do…” Trey’s voice broke. There was no way he could continue.

Lyric slammed the back of his head against the wall with a loud thump, dragging their attention his way. His nostrils flared and Trey couldn’t look away. It was rare for Lyric to snap. Tugging the band from his hair, Lyric tossed it aside before running both hands through it, barely containing his aggravation. When his hair was a mess, framing his face, Lyric swiped his hand over his eyes. He was practically bouncing in place. Glancing in Trey’s direction, Lyric opened his mouth, obviously intent on having his say. He snapped his teeth together, biting it back. Lyric brushed his fingertip back and forth over his top lip, as if attempting to wipe away his words or thinking them through. Trey was enthralled. Lyric was the one with the words. Seeing him at a loss was mesmerizing. When the question finally fell from Lyric’s lips, it burst out, as if he couldn’t contain it a second longer.

“Was she scared?”

For Trey, it was the same as getting punched in the face. Dropping his gaze to the floor, Trey stared at the toes of his shoes, incapable of holding Lyric’s stare as he answered.

“Yeah, man, she was scared.”

The complete absence of all sound in the wake of his response was almost tangible. It was choking him.

* * * * *

Trey’s hair stood on end. His frustration filled the air, choking her. The anger and hurt weighed heavily on Arbor’s chest. Why did she have to be like this?

“They’re gone, Arbor. Lyric and Killian aren’t ever coming back.” She wanted to hurt him for saying it out loud. Did he think she didn’t know? “Fuck. Please don’t look at me like that,” Trey begged.

Turning her back to him, Arbor headed for the window, seeking solace. She stopped short before reaching it. That was their spot. She couldn’t look at Trey. Everything she felt was in her eyes; she knew it. Hurting Trey was killing the tiny slice of her that had managed to cling to life. Even the peaceful view of the river didn’t bring her comfort any longer. There was nothing inside her except a boiling rage. She glanced down, staring at her clenched fists. It wasn’t Trey. Life was the one responsible for her anger and she was truly fucking furious.

Arbor forced her fingers to relax. Today was the last day. She wouldn’t, couldn’t do this any longer. Blood welled in her hands, making Arbor realize she’d been digging her fingernails into her palms. Spinning back in Trey’s direction, Arbor kept her head down, incapable of looking into his eyes as she moved back to his side. Her feet didn’t stop until they were toe to toe with his. His body felt stiff as she wrapped her arms around his waist. With her gaze locked on Trey’s chest, Arbor worked at loosening her jaw—determined. He made no attempt to return her hold. It hurt. She deserved his punishment. Only when she’d managed to force her face to relax did she meet his stare. A muscle ticked in his jaw.

“I love you.”

At her declaration, Trey’s eyes fell closed. “Arbor, I…”

She cut him off. “That’s why I want you to leave.” His body jerked as if she’d punched him, but he didn’t pull away. That was good, since she wasn’t finished. “If there’s an ounce of love for me in your heart, you will walk away and forget I exist.”

In an instant, her feet left the floor. Her back hit the wall a split second before her skull slammed against the hard surface. A cry of pain left her lips before Trey’s mouth covered hers, cutting off the sound. Between the bruising kiss and his large body pressing her into the wall, Arbor couldn’t breathe. She didn’t fight it. The pounding of her pulse in her ears drowned out the screaming in her mind.

“You’ll always belong to me.”

Arbor’s eyes flew open as the harsh whisper cut through the air. Even with her eyes open, she couldn’t see and her lungs still weren’t working. Panic sent her scrambling from the bed. The second her feet hit the floor, light and sound rushed back to her, filling the void with such vehemence, Arbor’s stomach churned. The sudden assault on her system was too much. Even as her mind accepted the shift, the walls of her apartment refused to obey. They shook with such violence, several pictures came crashing to the floor. Her ragged breaths filled the air, seeming overly loud in the absence of all other sounds. She covered her ears against them and everything stilled.