“Pretty expensive mistake,” she says.
“Perhaps. But it led to tonight.”
Her hands are clasped in her lap. She looks down at them. “Has it been worth it?”
Slowly, I watch as my hand reaches out, tilts her chin back up so that I am looking her in the eyes again.
“I think I’d set fire to the place myself if I thought it would lead to another night like this one. I haven’t…talked with anyone in a long time, not really. It’s been terrific having you here.”
Her hands are knotted in her lap tighter than ever, and she’s blushing furiously.
“I…should go.” She adds quickly, “To the kitchen. To clean up. There’s a lot to be done.” She stands, and I follow suit.
“Leave it for a while longer,” I tell her.
She shakes her head slightly and says a bit dreamily, “There are things that’ll spoil.”
I step forward, pressing my palms to her flaming cheeks. “The only thing that’ll spoil is my evening, if you leave it.”
I lean in and kiss her, my hands falling from her cheeks to her shoulders. She sways on her feet a bit, then finds her footing, and now she is kissing me back. Arguments and accusations fall away until there is nothing left but the feeling of her soft lips on mine, only her and me.
The clock in the corner begins to chime the ten o’clock hour, but neither of us hears it. Unless it’s between us, at this moment, it doesn’t exist.
Chapter 11 - Steph
I can faintly taste the wine on Trent’s tongue, sweet and smoky. He reaches behind my head and tugs away the elastic band holding back my hair, which then tumbles down to my shoulders.
I haven’t been kissed by anyone in a long time, and I don’t know if I have ever been kissed with this kind of intensity before. I can feel an energy coming off of him in waves, barely restrained, but definitely there.
His hands fall to my waist, and I know that if he pulls me closer to him, I will very likely swoon off-balance. Between the wine and the kiss, my head feels like it’s about to float away like a balloon in a high wind.
As if sensing my distress, he instead grips my waist and presses slightly downwards. I feel anchored now, such that I can be buffeted by his mouth with no risk of falling over.
I somehow manage to raise my own hands and place them on his chest. I can feel the hard muscles through the fabric of his shirt, the strong pulse of his heartbeat.
The kiss intensifies even more. I’m trying without success not to whimper with pleasure as his hands begin to roam over my body. Everywhere he touches, especially where there is bare skin, wakes up and begins to sing.
Then he is pulling at my T-shirt, yanking it up and over my head and tossing it aside. My bra is quickly disposed of as well, off into parts unknown of the room.
Trent kneels before me, unsnaps my jeans, and hauls them down to my ankles, dragging my underwear right along with them. My shoes are gone before I know it, allowing me to step weakly, unsteadily free of the garments puddled around my feet, and leaving me standing completely naked before him.
He is still down on one knee in front of me. He trails his fingertips from the tops of my feet, over my shins and knees, and up the insides of my thighs. I shiver with pleasure and gasp as those fingers skate up the sensitive flesh there, then up and over, coming to rest on the blades of my hips.
I can feel the heat of his breath on my skin as he kisses my stomach, the point of his tongue barely grazing me as he begins to move down, down, down.
It’s gloriously agonizing when he veers off slightly, his mouth moving over the top of one thigh. His hands reach around behind me to cup my ass.
I try to say something, but all I can manage is another short, gasping sound. I don’t dare close my eyes, lest I topple over, but I’m being driven crazy by the things I see by keeping them open.
The flesh jumps along the inside of my thigh as he kisses a faint line upwards from the knee. When he can go no higher, he pulls back slightly. I can’t help but moan as I feel his tongue, barely touching me, slip slowly up one side of my slit, then down the other.
My knees are threatening to give way. Because I have no idea what else to do with my hands, I lay them on his shoulders. My fingers dig in deeply as the very tip of his tongue penetrates me. Spots flash before my eyes.
He releases his hold on me with one hand and brings it around. One finger slips inside me, and, finding me more than receptive, a second one joins it.
“Trent, that…” I say, but that’s all I can get out. The rest is a mixture of a sigh and a groan as his fingers begin to move. His tongue withdraws, moves up. A heat is beginning to radiate from below the pit of my stomach; a maddening tension is building up.
The sensation grows and swells until fireworks seem to go off deep inside me in small bursts. I’m left wobbly-legged and trembling, leaning all my weight on his shoulders. He stands carefully, supporting me under the elbows for a few moments while I collect myself enough to stand on my own.
“That was…” I say, but again my words trail off, failing me.
“That was a good beginning,” he finishes
