Kicked (23 page)

“This is my favorite Saturday of the season so far.” Trent ran his fingers through my hair and smiled down at me.

I lay in his lap as we watched football on the big-screen TV in his living room. The Eagles were playing our in-state rivals, the Bears, and beating the crap out of them. It was the Bobcats’ bye-week, so we didn’t have a game. We were scheduled to play the Bears the following Saturday, then we had a creampuff team to close the season. After that, we were through. Unless we made it to the playoffs.

He flipped to another game, checking the score. “If the Tigers win this one, they’ll be undefeated. They’ll control their own destiny and get into the playoffs.”

“We’ll get there.”

“I hope so.” He flipped it back to the Eagles game.

The playoffs weren’t a guarantee, but if the Eagles kept bulldozing through their season, they’d be ranked number one. The Tigers and the Rangers would vie for second and third place as long as they kept winning. And if we didn’t suffer any more losses, we’d have a decent shot to be the fourth and final team with a playoff berth. Our schedule was grueling, and our in-conference games were consistently against top-ranked teams. We had a shot.

Trent played with my hair. “I’ve been thinking.”

My eyes opened wider. That was never a good opener. “Yeah?”

“Why don’t you just move in here?”

Holy shit
. I sat up and scooted next to him. “That’s kind of a huge thing.”

“I know.” He took my hand and laced our fingers together. “But it feels right. You being here makes me happier than I’ve ever been in my life.”

“We’ve only been dating a little over a month.” I shook my head. “What if you get tired of me? What if—”

He placed both hands on my cheeks and pulled me into a kiss that verged on angry. “I’ll never get tired of you. You’re a smart girl, Cordy. Don’t say dumb things.”

I smiled and nuzzled against his stubbly cheek. “It’s just kind of sudden.”

“Not for me.” He pressed his forehead to mine. “I’ve been waiting for you.”

I couldn’t respond, because he stole my breath with a passionate kiss, his tongue teasing mine as his hands roamed down my tank top. He yanked the hem, and I lifted my arms so he could strip it off me. I pulled his t-shirt over his head and tossed it on the coffee table as he pressed my back into the couch.

“I need you here.” He kissed my neck, his tongue leaving a trail of fire down to my breasts. “Please say you’ll stay.” His mouth around my nipple made me squirm, and when he bit down gently, I gasped.

“I don’t know.”

He bit harder and squeezed my other breast, sending a highway of heat to my pussy. “Say you’ll stay.” His voice grew more insistent as his tongue did wicked things to first one nipple, and then the next. He smiled against my breast. “I know what will make you say yes.”

My stomach quivered as he kissed down it and ran his tongue along the waistband of my shorts. I definitely wasn’t agreeing to anything until he used every persuasion tactic he had. He nibbled at my stomach.

“Trent—”

In a rough move, he yanked my shorts and panties down, leaving them dangling around one ankle as he spread my legs and placed an open-mouthed kiss on my pussy.

I bucked, and he splayed his fingers on the insides of my thighs, then teased me with his amazing tongue. He kept his gaze on mine as he licked and sucked, making me moan as my body became a furnace. Sliding his hands up my thighs, he stroked the creases of my legs, sending more tension pooling in my core.

He took no prisoners, focusing on my clit and driving me toward my orgasm. I raised my hips to him, fucking his face as he groaned into my wet skin, his eyes always on me. When I reached the edge, my breath coming in short bursts, he backed off.

I groaned and tried to yank his mouth back to me.

He grinned and licked his lips. “Say you’ll move in with me.” He lapped at my clit, then stopped. “Tell me yes.” Another quick flick had me writhing.

“This is cheating!” I panted.

He ran the broadside of his tongue from my entrance to my clit. “So?”

“Please.” He’d reduced me to begging.

“Just say yes, and I’ll let you come.” He stroked down my pussy and sank two fingers inside me, applying steady pressure as he hovered his sinful mouth over me. “Just say yes.”

He circled my clit with the tip of his tongue.

“You are bad.”

He grinned and kissed my pussy, his fingers working me in a slow rhythm. “I know.”

His swirling tongue erased any rational thought from my mind. My body hovered at the edge, and I had to get there. I considered finishing myself, but he would never let me do that. And was moving in with him really so bad? The soft caress of his tongue told me it wasn’t. The steady stroke of his fingers told me it was a good idea. Us living together, sharing everything.

He curled his fingers up and hit my spot.

“Oh my God. Yes. Yes, I’ll move in.”

“Good.” He dove down, his tongue lashing my clit as my hips rocked and then froze. I came on a long moan as he pumped his fingers in and out. He kept licking, pushing me further as my orgasm rolled until the last spasm ebbed, and I lay flat on the couch, panting. Kissing up my body, he seized a nipple, sending a jolt of pleasure to my over-sensitive pussy.

His hard cock rested against my leg, and I closed my eyes as he kneaded and sucked my breasts. The urge to taste him overcame all other concerns, and I gripped him through his shorts.

He jerked in my hand and threw his head back. I pushed him off me, one hand on his cock and one on his chest. He sat, and I wedged myself between his legs, my knees on the fluffy rug. Keeping my eyes on his, I pulled down the waistband of his shorts, and his cock sprang free. He lifted his hips, and I took his shorts all the way to the floor, then pulled his cock toward me.

“Fuck.” He gritted his teeth as I grazed his wet tip with my breath.

A hard lick gave me the taste of salt and him, and he ran his hands in my hair. I licked again, then gripped his shaft and licked the length of him. His muscles drew tight, and he stared down at me with an intensity that verged on primal. I kissed the head of his cock and then slid it into my mouth.

His grip tightened in my hair, and his hips surged forward. I gagged when his head touched the back of my throat. He backed off, but didn’t relax his grip. I was still new at giving head, but I’d learned a lot during my first few times. One move in particular always seemed to draw Trent tight as a wire. I glanced at him, then tilted my chin up and bobbed my mouth on his thick length, pressing the tip against the roof of my mouth in a steady rhythm.

He thrust his hips, the head of his cock rubbing deeper, but not deep enough to make me gag. I used my hand on his shaft and worked him in tandem with my mouth. My fingers couldn’t quite reach my thumb when I slid to the base of his shaft, so I squeezed. He groaned and began pulling me forward, using my hair as a handhold to direct me. Playing my tongue along the base of his cock, I moaned as he kept his eyes on me, watching every move I made to please him.

His muscles were rigid, and a fine sheen of sweat broke out on his chest as I worked him. I slid him out and sucked on his head, darting my tongue to the slit at the end. He pulled me back onto him, filling my mouth with his cock as I licked and sucked any way I could. He grunted and shoved his hips up farther and faster, fucking my mouth. He was close, his cock hardening even more as I stroked him.

A knock at the door had me trying to pull back. He gripped my hair harder. A second set of knocks didn’t stop him. He surged upward, then pulled out, bent me back by my hair and came all over my tits. Each splash had me moaning and wishing he’d come in my mouth.

Another knock came at the door, this time accompanied by a woman’s voice. “Trent McKinley Carrington, if you don’t open this door right this minute, I’ll use my key!”

Only one sort of person used a middle name in a threat. A parent.

My heart sank, and embarrassment churned in my stomach.

He released me and snatched his shirt up to wipe me off. “I’m coming. Give me a minute, Mom.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

T
RENT

I
HURRIED
C
ORDY INTO
my bedroom and closed the door behind her, then strode to greet my mother. She was already turning her key in the lock when I pulled the front door open.

Her eyes narrowed as she tried to look past me. “I know she’s here.”

“Okay.” I shrugged. “What do you want?”

“That is no way to greet your mother!” She pushed past me and into the apartment.

I sighed as she stalked into the kitchen. Her eyes missed nothing—likely noting the double dishes in the sink and the few touches Cordy’s presence added to the apartment.

She whirled, her silky scarf flying out a bit as she did so. “And where is she?”

Irritation welled inside me. “This isn’t an inquisition. You can’t come barging in here—”

“I own this building. I can come in whenever I like.” She dropped her key into her handbag and gave me the same glare that would have instilled fear in the younger version of me.

The adult version, though, was livid. “It’s easy enough to have the locks changed.”

“She’s here, isn’t she?” She glanced to my closed bedroom door.

“Did you come to talk to her or me?”

She strode into the living room and sat in a side chair. “You, since you’ve been ignoring Carlotta and me for the past month. I got a particularly angry visit from her father this morning.” She wrinkled her nose with distaste at my rug. “So here I am to fix your mistake yet again.”

“Cordy’s not a mistake.” I’d wanted to spend some more time with her before the reality of my mother came crashing down on both of us. But it appeared my time was up.

“Put on a shirt.” She trained her eyes on my bedroom door.

I knew what she was doing, trying to verify her suspicions that I wasn’t alone. Not that I cared.

“Sure.” I strode to the door and cracked it open.

Cordy, dressed in a t-shirt and jeans, paced the floor, but stopped and looked at me, her amber eyes filled with worry.

I entered and pulled on a t-shirt. “Come on. She wants to meet you.” I took her hands and kissed her. “You’re everything to me. Understand?”

She gave me a weak smile and nodded. “I trust you.”

Her hand shook as I took it and pulled her behind me into the living room.

“Mom, this is Cordy. Cordy, this is my mother, Geneva.”

Mom gave Cordy an appraising look. “You may call me Mrs. Carrington.”

I prickled, but tried to keep my cool as Cordy and I sat down on the couch. Pulling her hand into my lap, I laced our fingers together. My mother’s face wrinkled even more, disdain creating an unappealing web of crows’ feet next to her eyes.

“It’s nice to meet you.” Cordy’s voice was even, no fear in her tone. “Trent has told me so much about you.”

“Oh, I’m sure he has.” Mom smoothed her hands over her light gray pants. “And I’m sure you know all about his trust fund and the rest of his money?”

Cordy’s grip tightened on mine. “From what he’s told me, yes.”

“Mom, say what you came to say. Stop playing games.”

She leaned back, her eyes never leaving Cordy’s face. “I’d rather discuss family business without an audience.”

“She’s staying. You may as well spit it out.” I hadn’t come this far with Cordy to turn my back on her. Either my mother would accept both of us or neither.

Mom huffed. “Trent, you are already treading on thin ice. I suggest you don’t push me any farther than—”

“Mom, I’m never going to marry Carlotta.” My voice was devoid of the usual anger I carried over this subject. Instead, it was matter of fact. “I don’t want to see her, much less take her on a date. I choose Cordy. I should have chosen her two years ago, but you got your way then. You aren’t getting it now.”

“I don’t think you understand your situation.” She propped her elbow on the arm of the chair and rested her chin on her fist. “If you decide to take up with this coal town girl, this apartment?” She looked around with a dramatic sweep of her head. “Gone. Your trust fund? Gone. Your connections from the Carrington family name? Gone.”

Cordy shifted, discomfort in every move. “I don’t think I should stay—”

“Yes, you should.” I stood and pulled her up with me. “I want you to hear this.”

Staring down at my mother, I realized how much she’d changed in just a few short years. Her hair was whiter and her body thinner. Despite her age, she still had the same iron in her spine. She never bent for anyone, and I didn’t expect her to change for me. Problem was, I was my mother’s son. The same iron running through her was also part of my makeup. I hadn’t realized it until my father died, but I was just as strong as she was. “This is it, Mom. Either you accept us and make an effort to get to know Cordy, or you and I are done.”