Fighting Chance (Misty Grove Book 1) (34 page)

When Trent broke off the kiss, they were both panting hard.

“Does that answer your question?” His voice was rough. He dropped his hands from her and pushed back, raking shaky fingers through his hair. “My God, Cassie. You have no idea how incredible you look in that dress. I thought you looked like an angel before. Now you’re fucking unreal.”

Cassie smiled shyly. “I guess the dress meets with your approval?”

“No.”

“No?”

“I don’t know how I can keep my mind on dinner when you’re the one I want to eat.”

“Uh, okay?”

“I don’t know how I can keep from beating up any man who even looks at you the wrong way. And, babe, I should know what they’re thinking because all I can think of right now is lifting that skirt and ripping off those panties.” Trent’s eyes turned predatory. “It’s a toss-up between eating your pussy and sinking my cock so deep inside you, you’ll be feeling me for days.”

And she’d just soaked her panties with a surge of arousal.

“And damn those lips.” His hand came up, his thumb brushing her lower lip. “I want you on your knees with those gorgeous lips wrapped around my dick.”

Cassie’s eyes widened. “N-n-now?”

A phone dinged with a reminder.

Trent lowered his forehead to hers and exhaled a short, rueful laugh.
 

“No,” he groaned. “Fuck, we have to leave for dinner, and if I didn’t know how you are when you’re hungry, I would say we should skip it.”
 

“I’ll be fine,” Cassie said, although there was some self-doubt. There was a tendency for her to get “hangry,” which was angry when she was hungry.

Trent looked at her dubiously. “No. I’m not ruining tonight just because I can’t keep it in my pants for a few more hours. It’s not as if I didn’t fuck you enough last night.”

“Don’t forget this morning’s quickie,” Cassie reminded him. Okay, she could wait too. The anticipation was going to kill her. Lord, would she ever get enough of this man? Maybe not for a long while.
 

“Never get enough of you, babe.”

 
Seemed they were in sync in so many ways.

“You look beautiful,” Trent whispered.
 

“And you’re looking handsome in that suit,” Cassie replied. “Didn’t think you’d look any hotter than in your sheriff uniform.”

He cut a fine figure in formal attire, and he carried it just as well as any Armani-wearing New Yorker.

“You’re missing one thing though,” Trent said.

“What?”

He pulled out a long box from his hidden breast pocket and opened it.

In its velvet bed, a gorgeous necklace with a pear-shaped diamond stared at her.

“Trent! This is too much!” Cassie was feeling overwhelmed. “You just gave me a tennis bracelet yesterday. And this trip, this room—”

“Humor me, babe,” Trent said calmly as he laid the box down and turned her around so he could fasten the jewelry. “I want to spoil you. This is just the beginning, Cassie.” He rested his nose by her neck and inhaled deeply. “Let’s go to dinner before I change my mind.”

*****

Every meal Cassie had had in New York City had been scrumptious, and tonight was no exception. Trent was familiar with the city, having had several security contracts here before. The first day, they’d gone to a popular Ramen Bar for lunch and then to a famous celebrity chef’s Italian restaurant for dinner. The second day they had a late start because Trent had fucked her all night and both of them had trouble crawling out of bed. So they’d ordered room service—might as well hang out in their expensive suite—and vegged around a little more, made love some more, before heading to Brooklyn to explore the area and have pizza for dinner. They didn’t exactly do the sight-seeing touristy thing. That wasn’t Cassie’s thing and Trent didn’t plan a tour—thank goodness. She wanted to explore the city at her own pace, observe the dynamics and the diversity in its culture. On the third day, Trent took her to Flushing for some authentic Chinese food. It was an interesting exercise, pointing at an item on a menu that was in Chinese. She had her first taste of pork knuckle. Trent laughed his head off. He ended up ordering some boring beef dish. Though Cassie wasn’t keen on eating any unfamiliar hog part in the immediate future, it hadn’t tasted bad at all. Then last night she was doubtful she’d enjoy a Broadway show, but she was incredibly surprised she’d loved
The Phantom of the Opera
.
 

Cassie was familiar with tonight’s cuisine at a popular French Brasserie in SoHo. Millie cooked a lot of French food when she wasn’t busy experimenting on homey dishes for the diner. One of Cassie’s favorites was Millie’s duck confit. Duck legs simmered in duck fat for hours and then preserved in its own fat for two weeks. When it’d been aged enough, the skin was crisped and the meat heated through in the oven. Cassie could recite an ode to her dinner tonight; perfectly crisped skin that yielded to succulent meat pulling away effortlessly from its bone. Not one flavor overpowered the other and the salt, rosemary, thyme, star anise, and garlic were perfectly balanced to assault her senses. She couldn’t wait to tell Millie all about her experience tonight. Cassie still couldn’t cook well, but she considered herself a good eater and could fairly discern the ingredients used in a dish.

Right now, she was on her last course—peach tart.
 

“So what’s been your favorite meal in New York so far?” Trent asked. He’d declined dessert and opted for Scotch instead. He had a big chunk of Steak Frites, which was basically Steak and French Fries.
 

“This one, but pizza is up there.”

“Pizza?”

“I’m a simple girl with simple needs,” Cassie quipped, forking a piece of peach tart into her mouth. Trent’s gaze followed her fork. His eyes flared with unmistakable lust.

“Do you want some of my tart?” she asked saucily, her arousal from earlier coming back with a vengeance.

Trent’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “That’s a loaded question, babe.”

She took another bite of her dessert, but this time she pulled the fork slowly out of her mouth and licked her upper lip. And as she did so, a spasm jolted her core and she clenched her thighs.

Trent leaned over and whispered, “I can see your nipples. You’re wet, aren’t you?”

Cassie nodded, holding his gaze as she swiped the remaining syrup of the dessert with her finger and sucking it off.

“Damn it, Cassie.” Trent’s voice roughened. “I can’t walk out of this place with a hard-on.”

“Yes, you can. You have your suit jacket.”

“You’re playing with fire, hellcat,” Trent said softly. “That pussy better be ready to pay up.”

Cassie crossed her legs. She had a feeling if she touched herself right now she would come. She held Trent’s smoldering gaze. “Bring it on, Sheriff.”

They barely made it to their room. Trent dropped the keycard twice, swore, and then on the third try got it open and shoved her into the room. She teetered on her freaking heels, but before she could fall flat on her face, the door slammed shut and she was dragged and pushed up against it with her skirt already bunched up her waist.

Trent kissed her hard and deep. Thrusting his tongue between her lips, he demanded her surrender. He pulled away briefly, breathing heavily. “Feel this.” His hand gripped hers bringing it to the front of his pants. “You make me hard as rock,” he growled in between kisses. “I wanted to drag you into the ladies’ room earlier, bend you over the sink, and take you from behind.” He gave her a hard kiss. “I had demented images in my head of spreading you out on that fancy linen-covered table, with your legs to your ears and licking you through your soaked panties.”

“They are,” she whispered.

“What, Cassie?” He nipped her jaw.

“Soaked. I need you inside me now.”

 
“You don’t make demands, hellcat. You do as I tell you,” he said harshly against her lips. He spun her around and backed her further into the room until the back of her legs hit the bed and she fell on her back against the soft mattress. Trent dragged her until her ass hung off the edge and pushed her legs apart.
 

“Keep them open,” he commanded.

He dove right in, using that forceful tongue to rub her sensitive flesh through the cotton of her panties. The friction kept her on the brink, delicious and taunting, and yet, she wanted to feel the roughness of his tongue. He pulled the crotch aside to give her a taste, a hard lick up her center and down to her hole. Cassie’s hips bucked as she clawed at the sheets.
 

“Trent! Don’t tease.”

Her breathing quickened as a sheen of sweat dampened her forehead. Despite the urgency earlier, Trent took his time removing her panties, kissing the insides of her thighs. After he’d discarded her underwear, he threw her legs over his shoulders. His warm breath teased her pussy before his tongue licked her clit, stroking up and down her sensitive slit. Unbearable sensations poised to erupt. Trent must have gotten cues from her body; so in tune was he with her responses, he went wild and started sucking on the bundle of nerves. Cassie shrieked as an explosive orgasm swept through her. He growled in response, lowering his tongue to her entrance and sucking the gushing of her cum. Licking her and consuming her. He was muttering against her pussy while shoving his hands under her ass to drag her closer when she bucked. Her breathing fractured and her toes curled.
 

She was still pulsing when he stood at the edge of the bed and held up her legs, arching her back off the mattress as he thrust forward, plunging inside her with such force, it took a moment to adjust to his girth and the fullness inside her. He gripped her thighs and pounded into her like a runaway freight train. Hard, deep thrusts that shook her body and the bed. She propped up on her elbows and noticed her dress was bunched around her midriff and Trent was still fully dressed with his slacks undone. Watching his dick disappear inside her, feeling the roughness of the fabric rubbing against her skin, and hearing the belt jingle with each thrust built another throbbing sensation at her core. His possession was primal, animalistic, and raw. And yes, she was greedy for more of that mind-numbing explosion she knew that only Trent could give her.

“I’m fucking close. You?” Trent gritted as he continued to pound inside her. She nodded. He bent over and massaged her sensitive clit and she went firing off. She cried out and held on to the sheets as best as she could. He ground against her as hot cum shot inside her, his grip tightening around her thighs as he roared his own climax. Trent dropped her legs and collapsed beside her.
 

“Damn, I think I nearly stroked out,” he muttered, covering his eyes with his forearm. “How the hell are we gonna top that?”

Cassie smiled, still in a haze of post-coital bliss. “I dunno, that was pretty awesome.”

“Yeah,” he whispered, turning his head to look at her. “You’re still wearing clothes.”
 

“So are you.”

“This needs to be rectified.” Trent propped on his elbow and turned her on her side facing away from him. He slowly pulled the zipper down, his warm hand caressing her exposed back, before unhooking her bra. Cassie felt the heat of his body as he moved closer. His hand cupped a breast and squeezed.

“Such perfect tits,” he whispered in her ear. “It’s a shame I’ve neglected them tonight.”

He positioned her on her back and slowly dragged the dress off. He pressed his lips to a breast and caught a nipple, using his tongue to tease it to a turgid tip.

 
“Trent, surely you can’t go again.” Cassie moaned as her pussy twitched in response.

He released her boob and gave her a look. “Are you doubting my stamina?” He pushed away from her, got up, and walked into the bathroom.

Oops, did she offend him?

She heard the water come on. Cassie contemplated getting up and going after him, but the faucet shut off and he strode up with a wash cloth. She was still on her back with her legs dangling off the bed, so Trent crouched in front of her and started cleaning between her legs. After he was done, he put the towel on the nightstand and got up. He unknotted his tie, pulling it slowly from his neck, staring at it intently before folding it in a contemplative almost reverent manner.

Was he thinking of tying her up? She was on board with that. He had cuffed her to the bed before and...

What the hell?

For the second time that evening, he turned his back on her naked self and walked away, this time heading to the closet where their suitcase was stored.

Cassie was getting annoyed and a bit self-conscious. She was naked as a jaybird, splayed on the bed for his fucking pleasure, and he was brooding around in the hotel room.

“Trent?” Cassie sat up and pulled her legs under her to feel less exposed.

He returned and sat beside her. His expression was guarded and tight. “I’ve long ago accepted that when it comes to you, nothing really goes as planned.”

That was quite cryptic, but was he saying she’d messed up his plans? What the hell did she do?
 

“I was planning to do this tomorrow over this fancy dinner I had all set up, but seeing you tonight, so gorgeous, so happy, and so fucking mine.” He inhaled raggedly. “It would kill me to wait another night.”

Oh, my God, is he...?

Trent held out his hand and there sat a small black box. Cassie barely had time to register what it was when he opened it. And for the second time that night, a big, brilliant pear-shaped diamond winked up at her.

“Marry me, Cassie,” Trent said huskily.
 

She stared at the ring for a beat and then bolted off the bed and ran into the bathroom.

*****

The bathroom door clicked.

Locked.

Trent sat there, dumbfounded, with the ring in his hand.

Stone, you moron.

Had he not learned that conventional methods didn’t work for his girl? Sure, he’d been lulled by this taste of normal they were experiencing right now, but deep down, Cassie was the same stubborn, independent hellcat he had come to love. What he should have done was have the wedding ceremony at the ready, kidnapped her, and then marched her to the altar.