Degrees of Passion (6 page)

Sasha turned her attention to the fireplace. It was one of many in the home. A soft heat radiated over her evening gown.

It was only the four of them, but Trevor’s parents insisted they dress for dinner like the President was coming. The silk brocade of the halter top flowed into a flared skirt. She pulled unconsciously at the lace shawl draped over her arm to lift it over her shoulders.

‘There you are,’ Trevor said behind her. He pulled the shawl off her shoulders and laid it over the tattoo on her forearm, covering it. Already the black design was lightened by liquid makeup. Kissing her shoulder briefly, he continued, ‘They’re ready to serve dessert.’

Sasha left the shawl where he’d placed it. Turning, she reached to touch his handsome face. Everything about him spoke of refinement and culture. He looked perfectly at ease in his fancy designer suit as if he’d been born into it. Most likely he had. She could well picture the Kingstons’ dressing up their son in tuxedos the day he was born. Enchantingly dark eyes watched her from over high cheekbones and a straight nose. His clean-shaven jaw had the square shape that made women swoon. Sasha knew. Just looking at him made her weak in the knees.

‘You know I don’t eat dessert,’ she answered. Sasha loved sweets, but they weren’t worth the calories.

‘It’s one of the things I love about you.’ He kissed the tip of her nose. ‘Come, you must be at the table to refuse it and wait while everyone else eats.’

Sasha wasn’t in the mood for more formalities, but let him lead her back towards the dining room. She did want to make a good impression on his parents after all.

‘Ah, come on, it’s not like we’re here every night,’ Trevor said. He must have read the look on her face. ‘And once I graduate, I’ll have nothing to do with this way of life.’

Sasha smiled. She admired the fact that he didn’t plan on going into his father’s business, but rather would do his own thing. He often said he planned on leaving the city to tour Europe after graduation. If she got her act together, she might actually graduate soon after him. Their schedules tended to keep them apart during the week, but she knew it wouldn’t be like that forever. Soon, they’d both be done with school and then . . .

Then?

Sasha wished she had the answer to that question. She knew what she wanted to happen. A woman would be crazy not to want a life with Trevor. He was everything a girl dreamed of. She had the whole happily ever after fairy-tale in her head, but she refused to say the words out loud for fear of jinxing it.

He ushered her into the dining room, his hand fixed to the small of her back. She felt herself stiffening, an involuntary response to the pursed lips and disapproving look on his mother’s face. Roger and Catherine Kingston demanded respect and they most certainly got it. They didn’t even let Sasha call them by their first names.

Sasha had observed on more than one occasion that Mrs Kingston seemed to hoard her smiles, displaying them only for the public. In private, it looked like the woman sucked on lemons. Brown hair, streaked with blonde, piled in curls on the top of Mrs Kingston’s head. Her pale-gold, hand-sewn chiffon and sateen dress had been custom-made for her, down to the specially selected diamonds along the high waist. Mr Kingston was no less elegant in his navy Prada suit and cream tie.

Trevor pulled Sasha’s chair away from the table, seating her across from his mother and next to his father who graced the head of the table. She tried to smile, but Mrs Kingston merely looked annoyed and Mr Kingston’s attention was turned to a waiter holding a tray filled with dessert plates. Trevor took his place next to his mother.

When the waiter came around to her, she lifted her hand and shook her head in denial. The mint and chocolate cheesecake had been garnished with fresh mint leaves and thin curls of milk chocolate. Her mouth watered and she reached for her glass. Ice water was a poor substitute for decadence. Mrs Kingston also refused the sweets. The men were served last.

‘Mm,’ Trevor made a small sound of appreciation as he took a small bite. Sasha helped herself to another drink of water.

‘Tara Wellings comes out into society this year,’ Mrs Kingston said, her voice quiet. ‘I told her mother that you would escort her, Trevor.’

It took all of Sasha’s willpower not to gasp in outrage. Was his mother actually trying to set him up on another date with a débutante? The pain and insecurity she felt when she’d seen the picture of him all cosy with Cynthia Rockman came back to remind her how she wasn’t completely over the betrayal. Her hands shook and she put them in her lap, consciously pulling at her shawl to make sure her tattoo was covered.

‘I’m busy with school.’ Trevor’s tone held within it a mild dismissal.

‘But you’ve been to the débutante balls and we’ve known the Wellings for years,’ Mrs Kingston insisted. ‘It would break poor Tara’s heart if you cancel.’

‘I didn’t agree, so how can I cancel?’ Trevor questioned, continuing to eat.

‘Trevor, please, you know your obligations. You’re single –,’ the woman stopped, looking at Sasha ‘– mostly single. There is no reason you can’t escort Tara.’

‘Catherine,’ Mr Kingston interrupted, before glancing at Sasha.

‘What?’ She tossed her hand lightly and grabbed her wineglass. ‘Don’t be so sensitive, dear. I only meant he wasn’t married.’

Sasha highly doubted that’s what Mrs Kingston meant with her little barb. She concentrated on not gritting her teeth. Just like every other time they ate dinner here, she told herself this would be the last.

‘I’m sure Miss Matthews wouldn’t mind Trevor tending to his responsibilities,’ Mrs Kingston said.

‘We’re expected to make an appearance at some philistine art show.’ Mr Kingston stood, dropping his cloth napkin on the table. ‘Trevor, I’ll have Timothy come back to give you a ride home.’ Turning to Sasha, he took her hand and bowed slightly over it. ‘Nice to see you again, Miss Matthews.’ Then, to his wife, he commanded her to follow with one stern word, ‘Catherine.’

Trevor stood, prompting Sasha to do the same. She stayed behind as he walked his parents out. Closing her eyes, she willed the tension to roll out of her mind, down her shoulders and into the floor. The visualization helped and she felt as if she could breathe freely again.

The last few months had been good between them, not great, but perhaps building towards greatness. Nothing worth having came too easily. With Trevor things were never really bad – aside from that 48 hour breakup they never talked about. Sasha wished she could say the same for his mother. The woman was insufferable.

Sasha opened her eyes to see Trevor strolling towards her, his tie loosened and a suggestive grin curling along the corner of his mouth. ‘We have the house to ourselves for the evening. I sent the staff away.’

‘Hm,’ Sasha answered, pulling the shawl off her arms. ‘Timothy will be back.’

‘Not for hours. Hey, what’s the matter? You’re not upset about my mother, are you?’ Trevor gave a dismissing laugh. ‘Ignore her. I do.’

Sasha had to forcibly make herself keep quiet. There were several things she wanted to say about Mrs Kingston, none of which would be for her son’s ears.

‘Ah, come on.’ Trevor towered over her, running his hand over her hip. ‘Don’t let her ruin our night. In fact, let’s forget all about her. I want to talk about us.’

Sasha felt her heart leap in her chest, thumping hard. Her stomach knotted in anticipation. A shaky breath escaped her lips. She couldn’t speak. The way he said those words, I want to talk about us, had to mean something special.

When he merely rubbed her hip through the thin material of the evening gown, she finally managed a weak ‘Oh?’

‘Mm.’ He nodded. ‘I was thinking . . .’

‘Yes?’ Her heart pounded and she worried it might explode through her chest.

‘We could move out to the grand terrace. There’s this little alcove that blocks the wind.’ His hand worked on her gown, slowly inching it up as he spoke. ‘I could shelter you against the side of the building, keep you warm with the heat of my body as you get down on your knees to—’

‘Oh.’ The word lacked enthusiasm. She couldn’t help it. Acute disappointment filled her where hope once sprang.

‘OK, fine.’ Trevor chuckled. He didn’t stop the progress of his hand, unfazed by any hint of rejection to his sexual ideas. Lack of confidence wasn’t one of his flaws. Her skirt brushed along her thigh as he worked it higher. ‘No terrace. You’re right. It’s probably too cold this time of year. But it is February. In a few short months it will be warm enough.’

His mouth closed in on hers, lips sweeping across so gently she couldn’t help but open herself to him. The taste of mint and chocolate flavored his tongue. She buried the disappointment she felt at the false hope, telling herself it had been ridiculous to think his words had a deeper meaning to them. Instead, she concentrated on his intensifying kiss.

She pulled away to gasp for breath, dragging air into her burning lungs. He kissed along her face, moving to bite at her ear. ‘Right here will work, too.’

Trevor hooked her panties with his finger, jerking them down, but not pulling them completely off. Sasha couldn’t contain herself. Lights danced over her head, shining like perfectly cut stars in the giant chandelier. The richness of the surroundings, the feel of fine material against her flesh, the look of Trevor in his suit, all added to the grand fantasy. How could she resist him? Everything about him screamed seduction and Sasha definitely was seduced.

She tugged at his jacket, gripping the front to hold him to her. He backed her up against the table. Hard wood hit her ass as the stiff press of his arousal trapped her hips. He finally freed her of her panties, ripping one side to get them completely off. They fell around one of her ankles, snagging on a heel. In a frenzy, Trevor reached for his waistband, undoing his pants without bothering to take them off. The dark material pooled around his ankles and his silk boxers soon followed.

She reached behind her neck, pulling at the straps to the halter bodice. A strapless black corset bra pushed up her breasts. Warm hands instantly cupped each globe, massaging them until they slipped out of the top. Sasha hopped her butt up onto the table. Trevor stood between her thighs, reaching his hand to rub the delicate bud of flesh hidden there. She ran her hands through his thick hair.

‘You’re so warm.’ He bit her ear, harder this time. A finger slipped inside, wiggling. ‘Why don’t you let me go without? I like the feel of flesh. I can’t feel anything with the condom on.’

She highly doubted that. In the past, he’d felt things just fine. It wasn’t the first time he’d asked, but Sasha prided herself on being careful – even if she did trust him. She wasn’t ready for the consequences of his request. ‘We’ve had that talk.’

‘I promise to pull out. Come on, baby, just let me feel it.’

Sasha arched a brow and started to close her legs.

‘Fine.’ Trevor grumbled, but obeyed. He pulled away long enough to grab a condom out of his jacket pocket and slip it on.

‘Good man,’ she said, nodding in approval.

Trevor brought himself to her. The thick glide of his cock parted her as he thrust. She kept her eyes open, liking the ambiance of the rich surroundings. He gripped the table top on either side of her and worked his hips like he worried about getting caught. She held on tight to his neck with one hand and anchored her weight on the table with the other. Her feet bounced in the air. Tension built inside her pussy bringing her close. Trevor jerked, stiffening with his release moments before she hit hers.

Not yet! Sasha wanted to scream in frustration, as she rocked her hips. She managed to get a tiny tremor before he pulled out. Trevor grinned, a completely sated look.

‘I take it you like the dress,’ Sasha teased lightly.

He nipped at her neck. ‘I love the dress.’ Then running the backs of his fingers down her arm, he stopped when he reached her tattoo. ‘But it will look better when we have this removed.’

Sasha glanced down to her arm, to the Celtic design. He’d mentioned it before and she’d not really said anything. The design reminded her of a wild, crazy night, of a man she could never talk to again, of things she should want to forget. Something kept her from agreeing wholeheartedly to his words. A part of her, one she hated to admit was there, one she tried her damnedest to bury deep, actually liked the reminder that once she’d done something stupid and young and so very college student. Sometimes, when she was alone, she let herself fantasize about that night, about Kevin’s penetrating gaze and unreadable face.

Trevor pulled her hand to get her to stand before pulling up his pants. ‘Let’s go to the bedroom. I had a new flat screen installed this week and I want to check it out.’

‘You’re so romantic,’ Sasha drawled, quickly dressing. She made sure to pick up her torn underwear and smooth down the tablecloth to hide their deeds.

Trevor laughed, grabbing her hand. ‘Come on, sweetheart. I’ll let you hold the remote.’

Tender hands glided along Sasha’s skin, glancing across her cooling spine. With each pass, they became stronger, massaging her flesh. She wanted them to continue, to move down over her ass, up into her hair. The hands were strong, but they didn’t move like Trevor’s, they seemed more inquisitive, exploring, memorizing. Her hips flexed, hitting the mattress softly. Desire stirred within her, tingling in her chest, heating her sex.

Sasha sighed, fighting the urge to open her eyes and look at her clock. She’d had this sensation before. It haunted her like some bittersweet secret she couldn’t shake free from. Kevin always came to her in her dreams. The few times she’d seen him around campus since ‘that night’, she’d made a point of hurrying the other way. He never made a move to follow her. But at night, when his image came, she couldn’t run and he always made a move.

She clung to the dream, knowing the second she let it slip she would feel guilty for what she’d done, even if she and Trevor had been technically broken up. How could she know Trevor would call her and beg her to meet him? Or that he’d want her to take him back the following morning at breakfast?