Come On Over (12 page)

It was about what had happened in Texas. He hadn't told her about the fateful race. And she hadn't asked. But she knew because she'd looked him up online when they'd come back with the colt. She wasn't proud of being nosy and intrusive, but ever since the meeting with Hank Calhoun, Trent hadn't been quite himself.

Entering the kitchen, she saw him sitting at the table, hunched forward, his attention glued to the computer screen. She made a noise to alert him to her presence. He surprised her by not closing the laptop as he'd always done. After a quick glance at her, he extended his arms over his head and arched back into a serious stretch.

“Man, that feels good,” he murmured, his eyes drifting closed.

She let her gaze follow the ridge of muscles defining his arm, trailing the width of his broad shoulders and straining his T-shirt. A flash of memory of him working shirtless provided details of his bare chest and belly. She stopped in the middle of the kitchen, her insides fluttering as though a whole flock of hummingbirds was trying to escape.

Her feet wouldn't move. All she could do was stare. The thick dark lashes, the day's growth of beard covering his chin and jaw, the attractive shape of his lips. She remembered the feel of them against her mouth, as if they'd kissed only minutes ago.

Midway through a long contented moan, he opened his eyes.

She simply stood there, offering a sheepish smile. And doing everything within her power to not make matters worse by looking at the laptop.

“I was about to put water on for tea. Would you like some?” Oh, brother, she knew he didn't drink tea. “Or anything else while I'm up?”

The faint smile he hid made her cheeks warm. But he pulled his arms in and straightened in his seat, his eyes dark and speculative, never leaving her face. “When you're finished, I'd like to show you something.”

“Sure.” She hurriedly stuck a mug of water in the microwave, set it to heat for two minutes, and brought out an herbal tea bag. “Okay,” she said and joined him at the table.

Trent looked her directly in the eyes and asked, “Did anyone tell you about what happened in Texas?”

“No.” It was the truth. Also a technicality, because she knew what he was getting at. In spite of herself, she blinked. “But I think I know.”

He rubbed his jaw, sighing at the laptop now in screensaver mode. “Damn YouTube.”

“And Wiki.”

Turning back to her, he snorted a laugh. “You did a search?”

She opened her mouth to deny it, then just pressed her lips together and nodded. “For what it's worth, I read very little.”

His wry expression made her wish she'd kept her mouth shut. “I don't know what you found,” he said, shrugging. “Basically, I tried to pull a horse from a race. He had a badly bruised sole. I was afraid it might abscess. The vet had given him a non-steroidal anti-inflammatory. But he shouldn't have run. The owner and I had a heated discussion, which unfortunately was overheard. He disagreed with me, let Race the Moon run. Moon placed...that means came in second. I made a wrong call that could've cost the owner forty thousand dollars.”

“So he fired you.”

“No.” Trent touched the screen, bringing it back to life. “I left before the race started.”

“Because you knew he would fire you later?” she asked, studying his carefully blank expression. “Or was it because you no longer trusted him?”

He turned away from the screen and met her eyes. “I know for a fact you didn't read that anywhere.”

Shaking her head, Shelby smiled. “I think you still believe you made the right call.”

His gaze narrowed. “Because?”

“How many times have you watched the video?” She nodded at the laptop. “I doubt it's to punish yourself.”

Trent raised his brows. “The thing is, I don't want to think Paul would do anything underhanded or risk injuring a horse. But I really believe he gave Moon an injection to block the nerves...it's for pain. And illegal as far as racing goes.”

“How long had you worked for him?”

“Six years.” His shrug didn't fool her. A hint of sadness had crept into his voice.

“I'm sorry to say I know nothing about horseracing.” She gestured to the laptop. “But may I?”

“Sure.” He angled it so she could see the screen just as the microwave dinged. Instead of getting up, she scooted her chair closer to his. “Get your tea,” he said. “I'll wait.”

“Later.” She leaned closer so they could both see, hoping he'd explain what was happening in the video. Her left leg pressed against his right. Their shoulders touched.

The temperature in the kitchen seemed to rise considerably.

Her face and chest felt warm as she tried to get comfortable without doing more touching. She kept her eyes on the screen.

He started the video, then all he said was, “Number 11.”

She spotted the chestnut-colored horse right after he left the gate. He was a beauty, shiny and sleek with muscle. She watched him break from the pack along with two other horses. A minute later Race the Moon crossed the finish line a nose behind a gray stallion.

Shelby turned to Trent. “Will you ever know if you made the right call?”

“No. I can't know for sure. You saw it yourself, Moon looked great,” he said, shrugging. “A month later he was supposed to run again, but he was scratched at the last minute. After that, there's been nothing. I hope he isn't hurt permanently. I admit, I started watching the video again after he was pulled, hoping to see something that would show me the truth.”

“So if he couldn't run that second time, doesn't that mean you were probably right?”

Trent smiled. “Maybe. That doesn't help Moon.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Go ahead.”

“What if it had gone the other way? If you'd thought Moon shouldn't race, and you'd kept quiet for whatever reason, and Moon was hurt...could you have lived with yourself?”

He frowned at her as if she'd just asked the stupidest question on earth.

“I'll take that as a no,” she said when silence stretched. “That means you made the right call.” She scooted her chair back. “You were trying to protect Moon. Personally, I'm glad you're that man.”

Trent blinked.

She got to her feet. The water for her tea would be cold by now. She turned to the microwave but stopped when he caught her hand. Startled, she heard his chair scrape back, then he was on his feet, tugging her around to face him.

He released her hand and stared into her eyes. A slow smile curved his mouth as he touched her cheek. His finger trailed to her chin, nudging it up as he lowered his head.

12

T
HEIR
LIPS
MET
in a warm, soft kiss. A hand cupped the left side of Shelby's waist. Resting her palm on his chest, she lifted herself onto her tiptoes. As the kiss deepened her heart beat faster.

Trent put both arms around her and re-angled his head. The second she parted her lips he slipped his tongue between them and slowly explored the inside of her mouth. She hadn't seen this coming, and she doubted he had, either. Not that she objected.

She slid her hand up to his shoulder, pausing to savor the feel of hard muscles bunching under her palm. He deepened the kiss, his arms tightening around her until she rubbed up against something else that was hard and thrilling.

“Jesus.” He moaned quietly against her tongue. On a deep breath, he broke the kiss and, with his head tipped back, briefly closed his eyes. When they finally met hers once more, they were dark with desire and sexy as hell. “This is all wrong,” he said.

Regret erased everything in a single heartbeat. Shelby swallowed, confused, and not sure what to do. They were still touching. Her hand stayed frozen on his shoulder, and he'd only loosened his arms but hadn't let go. She moistened her lips. “Why?”

His brows drew together in a slight frown. Once she noticed that his bottom lip was damp, she couldn't seem to drag her gaze away. That kiss wasn't wrong. Not to her.

“Shelby?”

“What?”

He let go then, and she looked up.

“I know you're hurting,” he said, his voice low and careful. “I won't take advantage of you like this.”

Even more confused, she stepped back, letting her own hand fall away. “Hurting?”

“Fresh off a broken engagement? It's rough. I know.”

“Oh.” Her sigh ended with a laugh. “Do I sound like a stone-cold bitch admitting I feel the best I have in three years?” She wrinkled her nose. “No, probably more like four.”

Trent looked as though he wanted to believe her but couldn't quite get there.

She probably should feel guilty. And occasionally she did, but only because in her heart she'd known for a while that being with Donald meant giving up too much of herself.

“I do.” She shrugged. “If anything, I'm embarrassed for taking so long to man up, so to speak. I stayed too long because I was a big chicken. But that's history. I really appreciate it, though. That you cared enough to stop.”

A blush heated her cheeks, and she made herself walk very calmly to get her tea.

“What you said earlier, about how things turned out with Moon...and...”

She'd only made it a few steps before turning back to him.

“...and how you're glad I'm that man.” The intensity of his gaze made her toes curl. “I want you to know I appreciate it.”

Screw the tea.
She moved closer. “Is that why you kissed me?”

Letting out a short laugh, he rubbed his jaw. “Might've started out that way.”

“And...” She returned her hand to his shoulder and watched a lazy, arrogant smile tug at his mouth.

“You asking for trouble, darlin'?”

“Really?” She stepped back, narrowing her eyes. “So you don't want me in your bed?” she asked sweetly, darting away when he reached for her.

“Wait.” He caught her around the waist and lifted her off the floor until they were eye to eye. “I'll swear on a stack of Bibles never to call you that again.”

“Don't bother,” she said, leaning in for the quickest of kisses. “We'll just find a notary pub—” She let out a squeak when he lifted her higher and nipped at the stiff nipple straining against her shirt. Heat swept her body. She dug her fingers into his shoulder muscles. “Can Violet see in here?”

His gaze shot to the window. “Depends. How about we—”

“Yes.” She expected him to set her down. “Hey, I can walk.”

Trent just laughed. “I know. I've admired the view many times.”

Still in no apparent hurry to let her feet touch the linoleum, he kissed her jaw, then her chin, holding her in the air as if she weighed no more than a marshmallow. He let her down a couple more inches and brushed his lips across hers.

She felt the hardness behind the fly of his jeans and knew he wouldn't last long. In truth, she doubted she would, either.

All it took was a little strategic squirming, and he set her down. Taking her by the hand, he led her quickly through the living room and straight to his bedroom.

It was a decent size with a king sleigh bed, matching dresser and a single nightstand. Everything was very neat. The bed wasn't completely made but a dark blue quilt had been pulled to the top, smoothed out and partly tucked.

“Bigger bed,” was all he said before he tugged up the hem of her faded T-shirt. Too late she remembered what he'd find underneath.

Damn, why couldn't she be wearing one of her pretty lace bras?

“Uh, this doesn't actually work unless you lift up your arms.”

“I don't want to,” she whined.

He gave her a long look, then laughed. It was cut short when she unbuckled his belt and went for his jeans.

“Hold on.” He stopped her, raked a worried gaze down her shirt. “You're really not going to let me take that off?”

She thought of telling him to wait and rushing to her room to change, but... “I'm wearing a sports bra.”

“Okay.”

“Because I was working...and, well, it's more comfortable...” She sighed. Trent clearly had no idea what she meant. He gave her that slow sexy smile of his, and thumbed her sensitive nipple through the worn material.

Shelby sucked in a breath. “Fine,” she said, and pulled the ratty T-shirt off.

He stared at the industrial-strength sports bra. Frowning, he leaned over for a quick glance at the back. “I have no idea what to do with this.”

At his adorably bewildered expression, she burst out laughing. “Undress yourself, I'll take care of it.”

She didn't have to tell him twice.

He went right to work, yanking off his T-shirt, pulling off his boots and jeans. All that was left were his boxer-briefs when he stopped to stare at her.

Thank goodness for the tiny bikini panties. The way he was looking at them, she kind of hated to take them off. Although his interest shifted the second he noticed her bra was gone. With laser focus he stared at her bare breasts.

His mouth curved in a half smile, he moved closer. “Okay, now I know what I'm doing.” He touched a nipple with his finger, then bent and rolled his tongue over it.

At the slight rasp of stubble against her skin, Shelby shivered. She plunged her hands into his dark wavy hair. His musky, thoroughly masculine scent teased her nostrils. He dropped to a crouch and kissed a spot between her ribs while slipping off her panties.

Once he got them off, he reached around and squeezed her butt, pulling her against his mouth, trailing his lips lower, to her belly, then lingering just above the V of her thighs.

The intimate feel of his warm breath sent heat racing through her body. Swaying slightly, she moved her hands from his hair to clutch his shoulders. She'd felt dizzy for a moment. Probably the lack of air in her lungs. One second she'd been inhaling his scent, the next she'd forgotten how to breathe altogether.

After pressing a final kiss to her tingling skin, he rose. “You okay?”

“Yes, except...” She hooked a finger in his waistband. “You still have clothes on.”

With a choked laugh, he got down to nothing but a cocky grin and an impressive hard-on. She looked her fill as he yanked back the covers, and got all tingly when he kept looking back at her. He came around the bed, put his hands on her waist and pulled her against him.

His kiss was hot and thorough and scrambled her senses. He was much taller than her now that her feet were bare. As his mouth grew more demanding, her head went back and he moved a hand to cradle her skull as he gentled the kiss.

She pushed her palms up his chest, tunneled her fingers into his hair, and sighed when he wrapped his arms around her and held her tight. He was all hard muscle and smooth skin. His arousal felt hot and insistent pressed to her belly and she couldn't wait. After more kissing, he guided her the few steps to the bed and laid her down, so gently it surprised her.

Not that she'd expected him to be rough or clumsy. She just had never been with a rugged sort of man before. Trent wasn't bulky or anything. But he had calluses on his palms and muscles in places where she'd had no idea...

Instead of lying down beside her, he detoured to the dresser and pulled a box of condoms from the drawer. He took out a packet, then moved the box to the nightstand. She grinned at his optimism. He responded in kind before crawling onto the bed and kissing her shoulder.

“I like your smile,” he said in a husky whisper and cupped a breast. He pressed a kiss just above her beaded nipple, then licked it with a slow flat tongue.

Gasping softly, she automatically rolled toward him, seeking more. Needing more. After another leisurely swipe, he sucked the entire nipple into his mouth. She was holding her breath again. This time, she let it out slowly and closed her eyes when he moved a hand down her body, following the curve of her hip, then ending the return trip at the protective seam of her thighs.

He tried to slide in his fingers, but she wasn't ready to come apart yet.

“Hey.”

“Patience,” she said, liking the way she was making him crazy.

She felt his chest move as he groaned. Oh, she had no doubt he would take her to that place she ached for...and he could accomplish it quickly. But first, she had her own exploring to do.

Starting with his left pec, she skimmed her palm over the swell of flesh and muscle, over his flat nipple. Obviously it wasn't sensitive. She tried the right one...

Trent's low gravelly chuckle stroked every sensitive inch of her body as effectively as if he'd used his hand and tongue on her.

“Ticklish?” With a coy peek through her lashes, she blew on the puckering brown nub.

“Only there.”

“Good to know.”

“Better think real hard before striking that match.” A faint smile touched the corners of his mouth. “Little city girls shouldn't play with fire.”

Shelby laughed and pretended the dark intent in his eyes wasn't hot enough to short-circuit her entire system. Wrapping her hand around his erection, she said, “Ready to change your tune?”

His cock jerked. The sound he made was part laugh, but mostly groan. She stroked upward, increasing the pressure, loving the feel of the hot smooth flesh pulsing in her grasp.

On a ragged exhale, he caught her wrist, pulled her hand away, and pinned her shoulders to the mattress. His face loomed just above hers, his eyes glittering with challenge, and his smile utterly wicked when he threw a leg over her, immobilizing her hips. Almost. She still had wiggle room. A slight move to the right brushed his cock and had him clenching his jaw.

“Why don't you want me to touch you?” she asked.

“I never said that.” He lowered his mouth to her jaw and kissed his way to her ear.

“You pushed me away when I'd just gotten started.”

“Don't pretend you don't know why,” he murmured and bit her earlobe.

“Hey,” she muttered, even though the light nip felt good.

He shut her up with an openmouthed kiss that made her squeeze her thighs more tightly together. He kneaded her breast gently, then teased it with his fingers while kissing her breathless.

Her skin felt cool from the light breeze sneaking in the open window, yet she felt burning hot wherever their bodies touched. She broke the kiss for some much-needed air.

Trent lowered his head. He took one of her nipples into his mouth and sucked deeply.

She arched off the mattress and clutched at the sheets, only then realizing she had a free hand. He still held the other one captive.

He switched to the other breast, giving it equal attention, before trailing kisses down to her belly. Every time his erection brushed against her hip or leg, he jerked a little. She did her best to make that happen a lot.

His patience was astounding. She wouldn't have guessed he'd be the type to stretch foreplay out this long. Everything he'd been doing felt amazing. But right now she was feeling needy, greedy and edgy, the hunger inside her going bone-deep. It was a little scary. For God's sake she didn't want to end up begging.

He circled her belly button with the tip of his tongue. He'd moved his hand to her breast, the other molded her hip. She rubbed his shoulder, still in awe of his physique. She traced a muscle over to his back. Whimpered when he thumbed her aching nipple. He shifted and turned away, fueling her frustration.

“Oh, for... Do I have to keep fantasizing about how you'll feel inside me, or are you going to get on with it?”

That's when she realized he was only getting the condom.

He looked at her with an expression of amazement before he laughed. Blushing, she couldn't believe what she'd just said. Out loud. God.

No, she would not cover her face.

“You'll have to unlock Fort Knox first,” he said with a nod at her clamped thighs.

“Ha. Funny.” She saw that he was as hard as ever. And more beautiful than she'd imagined.

He tore the packet open. “I want to do everything all at once.”

“Uh...I don't think that's possible,” she said, watching him put on the condom, her breath catching.

“I bet you want to be on top.”

“I don't actually care,” she said, “as long as I get to see your face.”

He lowered his head. “I think I can arrange that,” he said and moved between her legs. “Do you have any idea how badly I want you?”

At his raspy admission her whole body tingled. “So I'm not the only one, huh?”

He inhaled deeply, as the look in his eyes softened, grew warmer. “No, you are not.” He kissed her lightly, and she could feel how he was trembling. How he was trying to hold back and not overwhelm her.