Urges: Part Three (The Urges Series Book 3) (10 page)

“
So?
That just makes things better. Alcohol always makes things better.”

“
Not
this.” He shakes his head, looking sincere. “Believe me,
I want to have sex with you. But I don't want you to feel like I took
you to dinner and got you drunk just so that it would lead up to
this. I want you to know that you're special to me, and I don't want
you to launch into this without a clear mind.”

His words are
endearing, but God damn it, I'm horny. “So now what?” I
grumble.

“
Now
we spend the night together. I hold you in my arms, and you get part
of what you want.” He twirls his finger around a strand of my
long black hair as he talks to me. “We wake up in each other's
arms, and hopefully you won't kick me out of your bed.”

I can't help but
smirk at that last part. If I was truly wasted, I could definitely
see that happening. As it is, I've only had two glasses of wine. It's
doubtful that I'll regret this in the morning, but you never really
know.

“
Fine,”
I sigh. “We'll do things your way.”

“
It's
not my way, Fennel. It's our way. It's our way, from now on.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

There is no walk of
shame. Though if there was, he would be the one taking it.

Instead, I wake up
the next morning to the smell of booze and sweat. It's so hot that we
don't even have a sheet covering us, but that's entirely my fault.
Electricity doesn't come for free, so we rode the night out naked and
miserable, barely even able to cuddle each other because the heat was
more than either of us wanted to endure. He never complained though,
and for that I'm grateful.

Trent is awake when
I open my eyes, and he's watching me with a content look on his face.

“
Creeper,”
I tease.

“
Is
this the part where you say you don't remember anything and chase me
out of here with a pillow?” he quips back.

We're both all
grins, and it's quite obvious that I don't want him going anywhere,
even though he'd probably like to dive headfirst into a refrigerator
right now.

“
I
figured the lack of air conditioning in here would be enough to drive
you away on your own.” My eyes fix on the beads of perspiration
dotting his brow.

“
And
I figured that after all I've been through to get you back, you'd
know that I'd walk through fire for you.” He looks around the
room with a smirk. “This isn't quite fire, but I have to admit,
it's pretty hot in here.”

“
And
I thought it was just you.” I poke his chest before rolling
over to nuzzle against him. It feels odd having him in my apartment,
almost unbelievable that we're together like this now, especially
since just yesterday I wouldn't have pissed on him to put him out if
he had been on fire. He seems like a completely different man though,
loving and considerate and truly willing to try to be with me.

“
So
when are you going to come back to work for me?” He rakes his
fingers through my hair to brush it over my shoulder.

“
I'm
not.” I look up at him, hoping he's not offended.

“
Why
not? It really doesn't look like you enjoy your job. And I know you
don't want to be a gopher anymore. I could put you in the shipping
department.”

The corners of my
mouth dip into a frown as I think of the taxidermy zoo in Tony
Peterson's office—a collection that rivals Trent's. That entire
department is sausage central. Only one other woman works in it, and
she's a lesbian. “I think I'll pass.”

“
Or
would you rather be in the order entry department?” Trent
presses his forehead lightly against mine, and I can hear the grin in
his voice.

“
Are
you kidding me?” I pull out of his grasp with a playful huff.
“And have Zelma spy on me for you, reporting back everything I
say.”

“
I
rather like some of the things you say about me, when they're not all
nasty and angsty.” He pursues me, wrapping his arms around me
to pull me tighter against him. I love this side of him. It's
affectionate and warm and oh so perfect.

“
Seriously
though.” I glance at him over my shoulder. “It's a
generous offer, but I really don't want to work for you anymore. Yes,
my job sucks. But if we work together, it's just going to feel
awkward, and if we are going to really try to have something more
than a friendship, then I don't want the strain that working for you
would put on our relationship.”

“
You're
stubborn,” he whispers into my ear before kissing my earlobe.

“
And
you're tenacious.”

“
It
works for me.” He kisses the back of my head before letting me
go and rolling out of bed.

I try not to pout as
I turn to face him, drawing the sheet up over my chest to hide my
nudity. “Where do you think you're going?”

“
To
make you breakfast. You do have eggs and stuff here, right?” He
grabs his boxers off of the floor and pulls them on, and I mourn the
loss of the sight of his naked flesh.

I screw my face,
partially because I don't like that he's getting dressed and
partially because my fridge is completely desolate. There's nothing
in there but a half a gallon of milk and a whole lot of empty space.

Trent catches my
expression and understands it instantly. “So, is there anywhere
around here that serves good breakfast?”

***

I have more fun with
Trent during breakfast than I've had with anyone in a while. We talk
and laugh and joke and tell stories about our pasts. It's worlds away
from the first time I dined with him, when we both acted completely
stiff. If I didn't feel comfortable around him after his confession
last night, I definitely do now.

We walk out of the
restaurant together, so close that our arms are practically touching.
Since we took separate vehicles, Trent follows me to my car, opening
my door like a gentleman. I know he has to get back to work after
this—he took part of the morning off just to be with me—but
I don't want him to go. Everything with us feels fresh and new and
amazing, the way it should have been when we first met. I want to
prolong our time together as much as I can, even if that's kind of
selfish.

“
So,
what now?” I ask as I lower myself onto the driver's seat,
keeping my legs outside of the vehicle so that I can still face him.

Trent leans on my
car door, looking down on me—looking delicious. “I guess
now I ask you to be my girlfriend.”

The way he says it
is so shy and adorable and high school. How could I possibly say no?
“I'll think about it,” I tease.

“
You'll
think about it?” He doesn't look convinced.

“
Kinda
hard to resist a guy who would walk through fire for me.” I tug
on the hem of his T-shirt, wishing I could pull it off of him and
ravage him in the backseat of my car.

“
So
I guess that's a yes, then?”

“
When
do I get to see you again?” I stare straight forward, hoping I
don't sound too desperate.

“
Do
you want to come stay at my place this weekend?” He gazes out
into the street at the school traffic we'll both be driving in very
shortly.

“
Will
you have kinky delights for me?” I wiggle in my seat, grinning
stupidly.

“
Well,
since you didn't kick me out of bed this morning, I think that can be
arranged.” His mouth broadens into a dashing smile.

“
Kinky
delights it is, then.”

***

“
I
think you spent more time in the BDSM realm than you let on.”
I'm standing in the middle of Trent's basement again. All I see is
nothing. He put a black cloth bag over my head before he carefully
led me downstairs, not wanting to spoil the surprise of our session.
Now I'm being as still as a statue while he expertly coils rope
around my naked body. Even without my sight, I can guess that he has
some impressive knot tying skills. This is taking a while, and he's
very meticulous about it.

“
I
think you spent more time in the BDSM realm than you let on, Sir,”
he reminds me.

“
Sir,”
I parrot back, not feeling like repeating myself again. I can hear
from the tone of his voice that he's in the zone, that zone where
kindness leaves him, and all I feel is coldness. It's going to be
difficult getting used to this. At least if we can compromise, if he
can be kind and sweet when we're at my apartment, then maybe I can
handle the way he is here.

I'm not afraid of
him, as I know he hopes I am, but it is a bit uncomfortable being
bound up in someone's basement when you can't see what's going on.
This is what he needs though. One thing is for certain, I'll never
complain about my sex life being mundane while I'm dating him.

“
Lie
down,” he tells me when he's secured the last few knots.
There's rope around my neck, my chest, above and below my breasts,
around my stomach and both of my thighs. And it's not just one layer
but several.

When I lie down, he
leaves me for a moment, and I hear the sound of chains rattling
overhead. Then he returns with more rope. As he pulls my hands behind
my back and begins restraining me even further, I think of how
bizarre our relationship is.

After we finished
having breakfast together the other day and went our separate ways, I
was certain I wouldn't hear from him again until the weekend. That
very afternoon, however, he sent a bouquet of roses to the hardware
store for me. He also texted me during his breaks at work to check up
on me and exchange casual banter. It's like we had effortlessly
fallen into the roll of boyfriend and girlfriend. And it totally blew
my mind at how natural it felt, despite everything that has happened
between us.

This, however,
doesn't feel quite natural—lying on the cold floor in his
basement while he ties me up to the point that I'm completely
immobilized. Oh well, at least he didn't put the ball gag or posture
collar on me. Even with one hundred lengths of rope wrapped around
me, I feel freer than I did the first time I was down here.

I hear Trent's
footsteps retreat several feet away and then the sound of ungreased
metal squeaking. For a second, it feels like my bondage tightens, but
then my entire body lifts off the ground, and I let out a sharp cry
of surprise. No wonder there is so much rope coiled around me. It's
needed to support my body weight.

“
What
are you going to do to me now, Sir?” I twist my head to try to
look back at him to no avail. When he was tying the rope around my
neck, he secured the bag to my head.

“
I'm
going to give you what you've been wanting.”

There's a rustling
sound behind me, and my breathing picks up in anticipation. This is
probably the worst part of it all, not knowing what's going to happen
next. I'm not left in the dark for long though. After a few minutes,
the bag is ripped violently off of my head, and I'm greeted with the
sight of Trent's gorgeous nude frame in front of me. His cock is
already fully erect, and it's at eye level. I'm not far off the floor
at all, maybe only a few feet.

“
Do
you want to suck my cock?” He lifts my chin with his index
finger.

“
Yes,
Sir.” I look at the wide crest of his helmet, feeling my mouth
water at the thought of tasting him.

“
I
don't think that's what you really want.” Trent shakes his head
before walking behind me. Now, all I can see is the stairs. Why does
he always keep me facing the stairs?

I'm not sure how to
respond, so I don't. I simply hang there, wondering what's coming
next. It will probably be something painful, like a flogging or the
nipple clamps. Something I'm willing to endure to get to the best
part of being with him—the rough sex.

To my surprise
though, Trent grabs my knees and spreads my thighs, stepping between
them. I feel his glans nudge against my folds, which I'm certain is
just a tease. Teasing seems to be one of his favorite things, in all
regards. The bastard. My eyes close as I savor the heat of his sex so
near to my own. It will be a short-lived pleasure. At least, that's
what I think until his hands close around my hips, and he bucks all
the way into me with one fluid motion.