Chapter 6

CHAPTER 6

Holland

M y head is bent over my phone as I step up onto the curb outside the printshop. My fingers work furiously to get a text off to Annika. It's no wonder I don't see the huge body in front of me and next thing I know, I'm crashing into Trey where he stands at the shop door.

I scramble back, recognizing his body and scent before I fully realize it's him.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I ask, slipping my phone into my purse and rifling around for the shop keys.

Trey twirls them on his finger and I forgot I had left them with him last night. I'd intended to get them back at dinner and then things went to hell with our impromptu riding adventure.

I snatch the keys from him, ignore his smirk and unlock the front door. He starts to follow me in, but I turn and put a hand to his chest, attempting to push him back. He's solid stone and doesn't move.

"You can't come in."

"I have work to do," he says.

"I don't want you here."

"Tough shit," he replies. "I spent a lot of money on materials and I'm halfway done with the flooring."

"I don't—"

Trey captures my wrist and pulls my hand from his chest. He sounds annoyed. "Just let me in. I'll stay out of your way, finish the work and be gone. You can ignore me from the safety of your dad's office."

I glance over my shoulder, just inside the shop, and I'm instantly struck by the transformation that has taken place since yesterday. The machinery has all been wheeled to one side of the space and on the other half, the once worn and damaged floorboards have been replaced with sturdy new ones. Their golden color gleams in the sunlight streaming through the windows. It's then I notice all the rotted casings have been replaced, but they still need paint. It's remarkable progress for just one day, and I can't help but be impressed by Trey's unwavering dedication.

"You did this all by yourself yesterday?" I ask astounded.

"Nah. Got a buddy who came and helped me lay the flooring, but the casings are all me. That was pretty easy though. Just need to be painted."

I glance back at him considering my options, but I know the best choice. "You can finish but leave me alone, okay?"

Trey gives me an irksome, snappy salute. I definitely don't like the boyish smirk that makes me focus on his lips, which have done some serious damage to me in years past.

I push through the door and he follows me, close enough that I can smell his soap. The same woodsy scent he used back when—

Walking faster, I put distance between us and head into the rear of the shop where my dad's mess of a record system awaits. As Trey's scent recedes, memories from last night come rushing in to take its place. Dinner with the Blackburns was like stepping back in time. The warmth and laughter felt so familiar, it was as if I'd never left. Although Wade hit me with the expected question of why I left and never returned, they seemed to accept my answer and didn't push for more.

It felt right, being among them again.

Part of me even felt a little right being around Trey, and as much as I told myself I was over him, over us, I'm still helplessly attracted to the man, as evidenced by the fact I kissed him back last night.

I'm not sure when in my formative life that a young girl's crush turned into a deeper desire, but it was long before our first kiss on the dock when I was eighteen.

So when he compelled me through kind eyes to divulge my dad was an alcoholic and hugged me with the assurance that everything would be okay, I was all in by the time his mouth was on mine.

And God… what a kiss. It was everything I'd ever wanted, and I knew if he didn't give it to me again and again, I wouldn't ever be happy. That evening we sat on the dock and made out. Trey held my hand, asked me to tell him everything about my home life and before the moon rose, he vowed that he would be my champion. We made out more, held hands back to the horses and snuck kisses in before I got in my car to go home.

Thus began our love affair that summer before I left for college.

I sit down in the squeaky office chair, but I don't turn on the computer. Instead, I lean back, kick my booted feet up on the edge and stare at the ceiling. Eleven years ago I fell helplessly, madly in love with Trey Blackburn. If he could be believed, and these days I'm of the opinion that he cannot, he said he loved me too.

It was our secret and we shared it with no one. We knew it would be awkward with Wade, Abby and Kat, and it would change our dynamics for sure, but mostly… we just wanted to spend time with each other. So we went on dates in Louisville to avoid being seen, snuck hot kisses accompanied by groping hands in empty stalls, and six weeks after that first kiss, I gave Trey my virginity on a blanket beside the pond.

We were madly, silly in love. The closer we grew, the more I wanted to give myself to him fully. He held out and I pushed hard, and eventually I wore him down.

It was a summer of promise and my world revolved around the man.

"Christ, why are bras so hard to unclasp," Trey growled, his fingers working the hook between my breasts.

I giggled and flipped the little plastic latch, letting the material part and giving Trey unfettered access. As always, he looked at me reverently at first, then with growing heat in his eyes. It thrilled me, how quickly he could go from tenderness to lust, and I loved all those parts in between.

We were in the hayloft in one of the yearling barns, a place that was often empty during the day as the young horses were out to pasture. We lay spread on a blanket, our passion undeterred by the hard wooden floor, and Trey stripped me naked, worshipping every inch of my body with his mouth.

"I'm going to make love to you so thoroughly, your eyes are going to cross permanently," he'd promised before sucking a nipple into his mouth.

I arched my back and laughed, holding his head tight to me. "Say that in a different way."

His head popped up, black hair falling over his forehead. "Like how?"

"Like…" I looked up, pondered for a second and commanded, "Like, really dirty. Make me blush."

Challenge glinted in Trey's eyes and he put his hand between my legs. "I'm going to fuck you so hard, you won't be able to ride a horse for a week."

I groaned, pulled his head back down to my breast and muttered, "Yeah… just like that."

And he did, just like that.

After, I lay across his naked body, stroking the smooth muscles and listening to his heartbeat as my head rested on his chest. His strong, work-weathered hand stroked over my ass and it made me want him again.

"I love you," I whispered.

His arms tightened around me. "And you're the world to me."

Our time was running short as I'd be off to the University of Kentucky in two weeks.

"Think it's time we told the gang," I mused.

Trey sighed. "Once we let this out, I won't have you all to myself anymore."

This was a conversation we had a handful of times each week. When do we leave the sanctity of our little bubble and reveal our love to the entire Blackburn clan?

"Kat and Abby are going to be horrified," I said, assured in that prediction. They saw me as a sister and Trey was my brother in their eyes.

"Wade will never stop teasing us. He'll give us shit for the rest of our lives."

I stroked a finger along his collarbone. "Your parents will be happy."

I could feel the fondness in his tone. "Yeah… they'll get a kick out of it."

"So we should tell them," I concluded, but my heart wasn't in it. I put the words out there in case it was really important to Trey.

"Or," he drawled, tugging on my hair so I looked up at him. "We just keep this to ourselves for the rest of the summer. We tell them when you go to college. Let's have these last two weeks alone."

I pressed a finger to my chin as if I were seriously pondering his suggestion before a broad grin broke out across my face. "Okay… let's keep it secret for the rest of the summer. It sounds like a great plan."

Trey laughed, rolled me underneath his body and started loving me again.

"Holland."

I'm jolted out of my memories to see Trey standing at the office entrance. I hadn't even heard him open the door.

No one should look that good in jeans, work boots and a simple navy T-shirt. His dark hair is a wavy mess and his green eyes sparkle against his sooty lashes.

I hate myself for appreciating those things and it makes me ornery. "What?" I snap.

"Are you okay?" he asks, although I know that's not what brought him in here.

"None of your business." I glare at him. "What do you want?"

My churlish tone doesn't put him off, and instead, he offers me a lazy smile. "You had some pretty deep thoughts going on there. What were you thinking about?" I feel the heat rise in my cheeks, burning so much that I know he can see it. His eyes glitter with interest. "Thinking about me? About that kiss we had last night?"

"Of course I wasn't thinking about that." That's the truth. I was thinking about that time in the hayloft, but now I'm thinking about that kiss last night.

It was electric, just the way it used to be, and brought back all kinds of dizzying memories and feelings. The way he held me, the taste of his lips—it was like we hadn't spent eleven years apart. A part of me wanted to give in and let myself fall back into his arms, but I couldn't ignore the anger that's been on a low simmer since we crossed paths again.

"There was nothing special about that kiss," I say primly, leaning forward to turn on the computer.

Now that is an absolute untruth. I hate myself for kissing him back but God, it took all my willpower to pull away.

Trey looks amused by my denial, leaning a shoulder against the doorjamb and crossing his arms over his chest. "You were all in on that kiss. Deny it all you want, but it was special."

I'm incensed over his confidence and beyond irritated that he's getting a rise out of me. Yet I can't help myself from flying out of my chair and taking two steps to come toe to toe with him. I poke him in the chest so hard he steps backward through the entryway. "You're an arrogant, selfish bastard."

His eyes narrow. "And you're an ice princess with a tongue so sharp it could cut granite."

I glare at him, my hands on my hips. "You're so full of yourself, Trey. I bet you look in the mirror every morning and tell yourself how amazing you are."

He rolls his eyes. "Oh please, Holland. You probably have a shrine dedicated to your accomplishments. Do you light candles to your diploma every night?"

"What?" I sputter, not even sure I understood what he said. "Are you like five years old? That's the dumbest thing I've ever heard."

He snorts contemptuously. "Like your mirror insult was any good. It's like you've got two brain cells and they're both vying for third place. Please God… let one of them win."

All the years of having put Trey Blackburn out of my mind seem to melt away and I'm left with the burning anger of betrayal and heartache. I shriek in frustration, "You're an asshole. A conceited, hardhearted douchebag. You're the one who hurt me and now you insult—"

Trey's mouth slams down hard on mine, cutting off my rant. His hands tangle in my hair and I couldn't pull away if I wanted to, he has me so thoroughly captured.

But I'm not sure I want to pull away because without any will of my own, I'm kissing him back. I fist his shirt, jerking him closer, and pour every bit of anger and near hate of this man into a punishing kiss that I'll make certain he never forgets.

Trey groans, tilts his head and kisses me with an urgency that makes me think we're near the end of times and this is all we'll ever have. Our teeth clash, his tongue slides against mine and my head spins so hard, I get dizzy.

As abhorrent as it is, something ignites within me that I thought was long dead, and I give in to it. I've been alone for so long, shielding myself from any emotional entanglements that I've often felt empty inside. But despite the fact I detest this man and what he did to me, I've never felt more alive.

I try to pull him closer, but he abruptly breaks the kiss, looking down at me with fevered eyes. "We need to talk, Holland."

I blink at him, not understanding. "Talk?"

"About the past, about how things ended. I need to apologize and explain—"

"No," I snarl, trying to rip free of his hold, but his hands move to my shoulders, keeping me in place. I inhale deeply, trying to calm my racing heart. "I don't want to talk about it. I want to forget it. Forget you and—"

He kisses me again and my thoughts are obliterated. The kiss is so consuming that I'm lost for air. His hands caress my back, stirring up so many sensitivities that I had buried deep within. Trey's lips on mine feel like a balm to my wounded soul, offering comfort and familiarity in a world that had been devoid of it for so long. His hands move to my face to cup gently, as if holding something precious and fragile, and I realize that he's treating our connection with care.

It's his tenderness that has me rearing back again. I glare at him. "Don't."

"Don't what?" he asks, his eyes roaming over my face.

"Don't be nice. Don't treat me like I'm fragile. Don't touch me in a way that says you care."

"But I do," he says.

"Then get your fucking hands off me. I can't get involved with you again," I say, chest heaving.

"But you still want me," he points out, brushing his mouth against mine.

"And I hate myself for it."

"Hate me if you want. But let me kiss you again."

Trey doesn't wait for permission, and he doesn't treat me gently either. He sears a brutal kiss onto my mouth with a fervor that rips the air from my body. It's a desperate kiss, filled with longing and regret, which I ignore, instead focusing on the lust and desire welling inside me.

I can hate him and still let him kiss me. In fact, it would be the best kind of revenge to give him the taste he wants and walk away.

Yes. This time I'll walk away.

My arms go around his neck and I give him the connection he wants, but I reserve the knowledge that this is just physical. I press my hips into his, feel the hard ridge of his erection and grind against it.

Trey groans, twists his face away from mine. "Holland," he whispers, his voice raw with need. "This is getting ready to cross a line."

I'm emboldened by his weakness and I palm his cock through his jeans. It's hard and throbbing. I think for once, I can forget about all the hurt and insecurity, and just have this with him. Then I'll walk away and he'll see how it feels.

I squeeze and Trey groans, but that's all the encouragement he needs. His hands are all over me, gripping my hair while he kisses me hard and pulls at my clothes. Between gasps and fumbling hands, he has me naked.

Trey puts a hand to my chest, takes a small step back and lets his eyes roam. When his gaze reaches mine, his hand moves to my nape and he pulls me over to my dad's desk. With a sweep of his hand, he sends all the folders and the keyboard flying and I can't find it in myself to care.

I'm pushed down onto the desk, the Formica cold against my naked back. Trey leans over me, layering kisses down my stomach, his hands exploring my body, caressing every curve with an intensity that strips me bare.

His fingers trace the curve of my hip, grazing the patch of soft skin between my hip bone and the beginning of my thigh, causing goose bumps to break out. His touch is featherlight, teasing. Desire coils tight in my belly, a fierce energy that makes me feel alive, wild, no matter how wrong I know this is.

I could push him off, get dressed and walk away, but when his fingers dip lower, tracing the damp folds of my sex, I know I'm a goner. I moan lightly, my head thrown back as his fingers glide up and down, teasing the entrance to my core, spreading the slickness of my arousal.

"You know I still dream about this," he murmurs. His touch is gentle, yet firm, and oh so confident. This man knows every part of me, every nerve, every muscle, every secret I've kept hidden away in my body. He knows how to draw them all out and make me a slave to the passion.

I remind myself that I'm only letting this happen so I can walk away from him, but as his fingers continue to dance over my most sensitive spots, I'm thinking I might get trapped in my own web.

Trey's lips leave a trail of fire down my body, from my stomach to my inner thighs. I can feel his breath against my skin, each puff a whisper of promise of what is yet to come. He kisses the curve of my hip, the sensitive skin on the inside of my thigh, and then slowly, agonizingly slowly, in between my legs. His lips touch the swollen flesh, teasing, drawing out every sensation, and I sob in greedy pleasure. My hands go to his head, holding him in place for fear he'll leave and I'll end up begging.

His mouth is warm and wet, his tongue probing gently, tasting me as if I'm his last meal. The intensity of the pleasure builds with lightning speed and when he pushes a thick finger inside me, I gasp at the welcomed invasion.

With each thrust of his finger, each sweep of his tongue, the pleasure becomes more intense, more overwhelming. Every nerve ending is on fire, every muscle strung tight. Without warning, Trey's thumb brushes against my clit and sends me over the edge. A tsunami of pleasure engulfs me in waves that crash and crest without end. My body convulses and I pant through the strongest orgasm I think I've ever had. Trey's finger continues to thrust inside me, but he lifts his head to watch me fall apart… to witness the demise of my nefarious plan because he's the one in control and I never had a chance. In fact, I want him so badly right now, I might beg.

Trey straightens, his hands going to his belt. He stares down at me with a fire in his eyes that causes me to shiver. "I'm going to fuck you, Holland. Because you don't seem to want the words, do you?"

I shake my head. "No talking."

I rear up and reach for his belt. Trey pulls out his wallet, slides out a condom and rips it open.

We're synchronized, having done this dance before. I pull his length free, stroking it until he disposes of the foil and then I help him roll it on. His hand goes to my chest and he pushes me back down on the desk and then spreads my legs wide.

With eyes darkened to midnight emeralds, he gazes at my submission before a small smile forms on his lips. A throb starts between my legs, anticipation mingling with fear of what this will do to me and the absolute need to see this through. I want him too much to even think about my own self-respect.

Trey positions himself at my entrance, teasing me with the slightest hint of pressure. I moan, becoming impatient as I await his entry. His hands grip my hips, steadying me as he slowly and deliberately pushes into me. I cry out, my body arching off the desk as it welcomes him with a familiarity that shouldn't still exist.

He pulls almost all the way out before thrusting back in, another sharp gasp escaping my lips. His rhythm quickens, and our bodies slam together. I feel him reaching for the desk to steady himself as my body writhes beneath him.

The air is thick with our combined scent—a heady blend of sex and lust. Sweat drips down Trey's forehead and I can see the pulse in his neck, erratic and rapid. His eyes lock onto mine as he pounds into my body. His thrusts become harder, faster, and more desperate, and I'm embarrassed to find myself chanting, "Yes, yes, yes."

It's back again, that familiar building pressure, an unstoppable wave of pleasure, threatening to consume and burn me whole. I arch my back, meeting his every thrust, our bodies moving in perfect sync.

"That's it," Trey growls, his hands tightening on my hips. "Take it, Holland. You don't want to talk but you'll damn well take every last inch."

My hands go to his ass, just above the waistband of his jeans, and I dig my nails into him, urging him to give me more. Each thrust becomes more intense, more consuming, until I can no longer contain it. A cry escapes my lips, a mixture of pain and pleasure as I'm torn apart by my second orgasm.

Trey's body tenses, his expression twisted with such lust and need, I can't look away. He fights to hold back his own climax but it's a losing proposition. He grits his teeth and thrusts hard into me one last time. With a hoarse cry, he finds his release and I hate that I'm filled with tenderness.

I push it away as he collapses on top of me, his heavy gasps for air mingling with my own as we both lie there, spent.

My mind races, trying to summon the right words to hurt him. I imagine pushing his body off me, telling him to go to hell, but instead my fingers play in the hair at the back of his neck.

Trey lifts his head, looks down at me with sated eyes. "That wasn't a onetime-only thing so don't even think about trying to tell me it was."

Tell him, tell him, tell him.

"It's just sex," I say blandly.

"It's fucking spectacular sex, but it's going to happen again."

"Nothing will come of this," I say coolly. "And I'm leaving as soon as I get things in order."

Trey considers that, one corner of his mouth turning up. "Fine… we'll just have a hot tryst going on until you leave. Keep it secret because you know we're good at doing that. And when you're ready, you can leave and never look back. You're good at that too. But maybe you won't leave. Maybe I'll get you to stay."

Anger rises in me and I try to push him off.

He doesn't budge, instead staring at me resolutely. "You and I have something, Holland. You can pretend we don't, but I'm going to make you see it."

"It's just sex," I repeat. "Nothing more."

"It's more," he says confidently. "But if you want to keep it casual, I can do that."

"And we'll keep it secret," I press. Because although that was his suggestion, irritating since it's what destroyed us before, I have to admit that I don't want anyone to know what I'm doing with him. I'm not prepared to open up the can of worms that will come from the knowledge.

"Like I said," Trey whispers, placing a kiss on my mouth, "a tryst."