Body Shots (19 page)

“Yes, damn it!”

A rumbling growl escaped him at her feral response. He pushed himself the rest of the way inside her tightest opening, as her muscles sucked him in and her flesh immediately tensed.

Trent swore in two languages. The pleasure/pain of her body's clutch was both glorious and torment.

“Ease up, baby.”

“I—I can't,” she cried.

Trent reached up, tore the scarf from her wrists, and flung it away. At once, she threw her arms out to her sides and grabbed hold of the blanket. He stroked her sweat-soaked hair away from her face, and then covered her body with his own much-larger frame, folding himself around her protectively. He kissed her upturned cheek and felt her muscles relax the slightest bit. He thanked the heavens above. Much more of her clenching and he would have embarrassed himself.

“Good girl,” he praised her. Then he did what he had wanted to do earlier, and bit the smooth line of her neck. He got an eager response for more from Crystal. Her wish was his command.

He licked and suckled at her neck, knowing how wild it made her, and then began a gentle rhythm with his hips. Leisurely he built the pace until his hot flesh was slapping against hers.

“Crystal,” he groaned, “you belong to me.”

She didn't speak, only licked her lips and pushed against him, joining in the rhythm of their beautiful dance. Soon he felt himself swell and his balls draw up tight. One more thrust and he was there, his cock erupting inside of her, hot fluid filling her. She shouted his name, joining him with her own climactic finish.

Long minutes passed with Trent still buried deep, until Crystal mumbled something he couldn't quite make out.

He kissed her cheek and her forehead, then asked, “What did you say, baby?”

“I said we are
so
late for dinner.”

He couldn't help it. He laughed.

12

T
he meal consisted of perfectly cooked steaks; crisp, steamed vegetables; and then cannoli for desert. She'd never had cannoli before. She'd seen the tubular-shaped dessert on television, but to see and to taste were not at all the same. The flaky pastry shells were filled with sweetened ricotta. Mixed in were bits of chocolate. What more could a woman want out of life? There was no way she'd ever be able to live without the tasty treats now. Then again, she was beginning to think she'd never be able to live without Trent and Mac, either. Not good. Really not good. Her thoughts scattered as Trent's father spoke, his deep voice commanding the attention of everyone at the table.

“I have an announcement to make.”

Everyone grew silent. Mrs. Dailey seemed surprised, and if Crystal didn't miss her guess, she also seemed a little worried.

“Carmela will be taking over the winery.”

A winery, so that's what the “family business” was. There was an audible gasp at the table from both brothers, and their mother's face had leached of color. Crystal wasn't a detective, but even she could see that the news wasn't what any of them had expected. And she was more curious than ever as to just who Carmela was.

“It's the right decision. Any objections?”

As if right on cue, a beautiful woman came striding into the nightclub, her vivid blue eyes zeroing in on their table. Both brothers and Mr. Dailey stood. The woman smiled when she saw Trent's father; both brothers simply frowned. She spared them each a quick nod as Mr. Dailey kissed both of her cheeks and helped her to sit. They spoke in hushed tones, but Crystal heard her name mentioned and was curious what was being said. The woman finally turned her attention toward Crystal and smiled.

“I'm very pleased to meet you, Crystal. Dad was just singing your praises. I'm Carmela, the sister they both wished did not exist.” She grinned and waved a hand toward Josh and Trent.

Trent spoke immediately, not giving Crystal a chance to greet Carmela in return.

“Don't put words into my mouth, sister,” Trent said. “I never wished such a thing.”

“Maybe not you, but Josh certainly.”

“Ah, such an intuitive woman,” Josh said, all teasing smiles gone, replaced by a stern mask. Suddenly he looked every bit as intimidating as Trent.

“It is very nice to meet you, Carmela, but maybe I should be going. This seems to be a private matter.”

Trent's arm came around her shoulders instantly, his warm palm cupping the nape of her neck in a show of possession. “You need not leave, Crystal. If my father felt it inappropriate to discuss this in front of you, he would have made other arrangements.”

“Trent is correct,” Mr. Dailey said, his smile kind. “You're more than welcome at this table.” As he looked over at his youngest son, however, he nearly growled. “Though I do wish for Josh to behave himself.”

Josh said nothing, his eyes never once leaving Carmela, as if he was keeping a very close eye on a cobra.

“Crystal, perhaps we should fill you in just a bit,” Carmela said, her shrewd eyes sweeping the lot of them. “I'm their sister and the eldest sibling. However, my mother died during childbirth, before Papa met and married Trent and Josh's mother.”

Ah, so there was still some murky water under the bridge, Crystal thought. She felt immensely guilty for being privy to their family secrets. And the stricken look on Mrs. Dailey's face showed clearly that Carmela's words had struck a chord. Did Carmela truly not see that Mrs. Dailey would be hurt by denying her parentage? How could anyone so clearly intelligent be so obtuse?

On a whim, Crystal laid her hand over Mrs. Dailey's, hoping to soothe the older woman, and she was surprised when Mrs. Dailey turned her hand over and squeezed her fingers, smiling gently at her.

Unfortunately, Josh had already seen his mother's pain, pain that Carmela had caused. His frown grew angry and fierce. His words had the entire table gasping in surprise.

“The winery goes to a male heir. It has always been that way in the Dailey family. And since Trent does not wish to see to the day-to-day running of the business, I think I shall.” He paused, seeing that his words had done more than shocked Carmela; he'd also hurt her, as was his intention, no doubt. “You're not needed here, Carmela. Go back to . . . where is it this month?” he asked, sneering at her. “London? Is that your latest hangout?”

“Dad has already decided,” Carmela spit out, her voice quivering just the slightest bit. “You have no say in the winery, not anymore. What's more, you might want to be careful where you throw those rocks. You might just hit your own glass house.”

Josh stood abruptly and leaned across the table, so close to Carmela that Crystal could see his angry breath blowing the woman's dark hair. “You may have convinced Dad that you're an upstanding, moral woman, ready to run a million-dollar company, but I know you for who you really are. If you insist on taking over the winery, know this: I will fight you every step of the way. By the time I'm through, you will beg for mercy!”

“Josh!” Mr. Dailey shouted as he, too, stood. Then Trent stood and they were all shouting at each other. Crystal looked over at Carmela, who stayed seated, her hand clutching the stem of her water glass so hard Crystal was surprised it didn't shatter. Mrs. Dailey had come out of her seat, as well, and was grasping on to the front of Josh's shirt, clearly pleading with him, though Crystal didn't understand the mash of words the elderly woman spoke. Josh calmed a measure, looked down at his mother, and gave her a kind smile.

“Carmela,” he said, over his mother's head, “I have a wish to speak to you in private.”

“Fine,” Carmela gritted out, and then she rose to her feet, seemed to stiffen her spine, and strode off toward the swinging kitchen doors.

Trent helped his mother back into her chair, and Mr. Dailey pulled her in close, giving her his strength. When they were all quiet once more, Mrs. Dailey spoke, attempting to apologize for the unseemly outburst.

“I wish that hadn't happened in front of you, Crystal. I'm afraid Carmela and Josh have always rubbed each other the wrong way. He seems to think she is unworthy of the Dailey name, simply because she lives her life as a modern, independent woman. I don't agree with my son, but he has strong convictions.”

“What about me? I'm not exactly old-fashioned, either, and I don't see him acting that way toward me,” Crystal asked, wondering if there was more to the antagonism between the two siblings.

“Yes, Crystal, but you're not a Dailey.”

The words hit her square in the chest. It hadn't been Mrs. Dailey's intention to hurt her, and yet Crystal felt her world swing out of focus for a second. The very pathetic part of it all was that Trent's mother was correct. Crystal wasn't a Dailey, and she had absolutely no right to be discussing private matters with them. Their meal was done, her time with Trent finished. It was moments like this when reality didn't merely seep in; it gushed.

Crystal rose from the table and leaned down to place a gentle kiss against Mrs. Dailey's cheek. “Thank you for a lovely time, but I'm afraid it's time for me to leave.”

Trent stood up slowly, his face a stern mask as he glared down at her. “What is this?”

“I had a lovely time with your family, Trent, but I have to work in the morning and I need to get home.”

“No.”

Crystal's eyes grew huge, surprised by the finality of that single word, as well as the vehemence behind it. “What do you mean, ‘no'?”

“There is no need for you to leave here. You can stay. With me.”

Crystal turned a dark shade of red, and she felt like she was going to pass out. “Trent!” she admonished. “This is neither the time nor the place to talk about this.”

Trent's eyes bored into hers, a muscle in his hard, masculine jaw twitching angrily. Suddenly he looked at his parents and said, “Sorry.” Then, as if she were so much baggage, he was hauling her off.

Soon they were back in the dark confines of his car. It wasn't until he'd driven her back to Mollie's apartment that Crystal came to her senses. “How dare you embarrass me that way!”

Trent stared at her for several long seconds, then he cursed a blue streak—loud enough that she was sure everyone in the next county heard. He shoved a hand through his hair and then spoke so softly she very nearly missed his words. “Jesus! I'm sorry. I was taken by surprise when you announced that you were leaving and I simply acted on impulse. But that doesn't mean you have to go. I want you here, Crystal, with me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Move in with me,” he gritted out. “You haven't found a place yet, and I have more than enough room.”

Crystal's face softened. Damn, this would be a lot easier if she hadn't already fallen head over heels for him. She reached her hand up and stroked a finger over his lips. He grabbed her wrist and placed several small kisses in her palm, melting her heart further. “That's sweet, Trent, but it's not right. I can't just. . . live with you. I need my own place. My own life. Besides, I need to know a man for a long while before I take such a huge step like moving in together.”

He released her hand and looked out the windshield. His face shut down so fast he looked like a complete stranger to her. “I can provide for you,” he said, his voice soft, but no less insistent for it. “I'm a wealthy man, as you no doubt have figured out by now. You will want for nothing.”

She couldn't believe what she was hearing. “You'll ‘provide for' me? What exactly are you proposing here?”

His gaze landed on her once more. “All your bills, your clothes, everything. I will take care of you. I want you to stay with me.”

Shattered. With a few well-chosen words, he'd managed to shatter her heart and soul. “I can't believe you just offered that to me.” She shook her head and opened the door. “You're a fool, Trent.” Crystal started to get out, but he wasn't quite through digging at her heart.

“You care about me, damn it,” he muttered. “Don't deny it.”

He'd just offered to keep her, as if she were a high-priced whore, and she was supposed to just swoon? But something about his tone made her think that he was purposely pushing her away. Crystal hadn't expected that. She'd thought he would fight the issue a little harder. He didn't seem the type to give in so easily. Unless, of course, he really didn't care for her. Had it all been about sex to him? That's when the truth struck Crystal, as if it were a fist in the gut. She really had been nothing but a good time for him.

“Yeah, I care about you. But I care about myself, too. I won't be a doormat for any man. Not anymore,” she muttered. With that, Crystal fled from the car, determined to be out of his sight before the dam broke. She wanted to turn around. She really did. She ached to hurl a few insults right back at him. To slap him for doing this to her. For making her fall for him. But she knew that if she started, she wouldn't be able to stop until she was empty. Moreover, she'd regret it later. So instead, she turned, entered the apartment, and waited until he'd driven away before letting the tears fall.

When she reached her bedroom, it took three tries before she managed to open the door. Once inside, she dropped onto the bed and let go completely. She'd never cried so hard in her life. It was as if a vital part of her had just been taken away by the cruel hand of fate. Sometimes life really did suck.

She had no idea how long she'd lain there. Twenty minutes, maybe longer. When she finally stood, Crystal looked in her mirror and saw her swollen eyes and red, blotchy cheeks. She pictured Trent's large form filling the car, anger filling his normally kind eyes.

Crystal pried her eyes away from the mirror and headed to the bathroom. When Richard had served her with the divorce papers, it'd been like she'd been handed a new lease on life. She'd invested time in the relationship. Energy. Only to have two years of her life wasted on Richard.

Trent was a far different story. Being with him made her feel like a woman. Vibrant and adventurous. Scared and happy. She'd wanted to experience things with him, the good and the bad. She'd let her defenses down. Now she was left a bleeding mess. She wouldn't make the same mistake again.

An hour later, Mollie came home. When she saw Crystal on the couch scarfing down a tub of ice cream she said, “Oh no, that can't be good.”

“Men suck.”

Mollie sighed and sat down beside her, then plucked the ice cream out of her hand. “Some men do, yes. But not all of them.”

“I'm convinced your Alex was the last good one left on this earth.”

Mollie cocked her head to the side. “Wait, are we mad at Trent or Mac? Or both?”

“Trent. Mac didn't do anything wrong. He's been wonderful, actually.”

“But Trent stuck his foot in it, huh?”

“He offered to have me move in with him. He seemed to think it was a good solution to my lack of a permanent home.”

“Okay, so far that doesn't sound horrible.”

“When I told him I wanted my own space, he added the kicker. He offered to pay to keep me.”

“Oh snap, he did not,” Mollie gritted out. “What the hell was he thinking?”

“I suspect he wasn't thinking with the right head,” Crystal replied. “The jerk.”

Mollie handed her back the ice cream. “Go ahead, you need it.”

Crystal smiled as she went to work on the double fudge. “I'm going to hate myself later, but to hell with it.”

“Crystal?”

“Yeah?” she said around a mouthful of creamy deliciousness.