His Every Need (11 page)

He groaned. “You’re killing me, Miss Campbell.” He drew the shorts over her legs and
dropped them on the floor.

“We’ve had sex. Can we dispense with the Miss Campbell?” She was winded too. He liked
that he’d done that, made her heart pound, made her breathless with his kisses.

He grinned. “Maybe I have a naughty nanny fantasy.”

She let go of her viselike hold on his hair and laughed. God, how he loved that sound.
She smoothed her hands along the sides of his face, brushed his cheek. “Let’s get
you naked too.”

“Marvelous idea.” He leaned back, keeping his knee wedged between her thighs, and
with one hand, unbuttoned his shirt. Allie didn’t help him. Instead, she ran her own
hands across her breasts and watched as his shirt disappeared.

With great reluctance, he moved away from her to stand. “Do that again. Touch yourself.”

Her eyes on him, she hesitated a moment, then did as he’d asked. Pulling her bottom
lip into her mouth, she lightly circled her fingertips over her nipples. They jutted
out, begging for his attention.

Trevor’s gaze didn’t leave her as he found a condom. “More.” He grabbed his cock through
his pants, gave it a stroke as he watched her.

She cupped her breasts, then moved her hands lower, with agonizing slowness, down
her taut stomach, over her smooth legs. Finally, her fingers danced over the small
triangle of blond hair. She let her legs fall open and parted the lips with two fingers,
giving him a captivating view of her damp pussy.

He ran a hand over his mouth, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. He needed to
get control or he’d embarrass himself—that also hadn’t happened since he was fifteen.

After a minute, he opened his eyes and kicked off his shoes, and in seconds was as
naked as she. Still touching herself, her gaze flowed over him, taking in his chest,
his abs, and stopping at his cock.

He wanted to protest when she moved her hand away from that lovely cunt, but when
Allie sat up and balanced on her knees, crooking her finger at him, he closed his
mouth. “Come here, English.”

Enthralled, Trevor stepped closer and cupped the back of her head. When she circled
both hands around his cock, he groaned. But when she rubbed his tip across her nipple,
he almost came on the spot.

“Fuck, Allison.”

“In a minute,” she said with grin.

Reaching out, Trevor squeezed her breasts together and placed his cock between them.
God, he’d fantasized about this. Often. The real thing was much better. Allie dropped
her hands as he pushed himself between her tits. It was almost more than he could
to take.

Allie grabbed his hips. “Self-control. No coming allowed.”

“Ladies first,” he agreed.

As he thrust his hips forward, the tip of his prick poked the bottom of her chin.
He pulled back and drove forward once more. This time, Allie lowered her mouth and
licked the head.
Bloody
fucking
hell, that felt good.
He did it a few more times, but the combination of her mouth, her tits, and watching
his cock slide between them was too much.

“I can’t take any more of that, love.” Relinquishing his hold on her breasts, he tore
the condom wrapper open with his teeth. After he sheathed himself, he had her on her
back in a flash.

Never letting his eyes stray from her face, he cupped her breast, grazing her nipple
with his thumb. She arched and dug her short fingernails into the back of his hand.
Ah yes, Allie Campbell had very sensitive breasts. He would have to do something about
that.

Bending his head, he swirled the tip of his tongue around the areola, denying her
what she wanted, licking in smaller circles, nibbling his way toward the center but
never touching it.

“Trevor, please.” She twisted her head and looked at him.

He stopped. “Please what, darling?” He smiled cheerfully.

“I hate you.”

He leaned down and nipped the underside of her breast, causing her to gasp. He was
dying, wanting to be inside her, but he so liked playing with her. “Please what?”
he prompted.

“Suck me, English.”

Only then did he lick the rosy-pink point. He scraped his teeth along the length of
it, pulled it in his mouth, and flicked it with the tip of his tongue. Then he moved
his head to the other breast and carefully bit down. She leaned her head back, exposing
her white throat. He hadn’t explored that part of her yet. But he would. Eventually,
he would become acquainted with every bloody inch of her.

Keeping his mouth clamped on her breast, he moved one hand to her pussy, rubbed the
pad of his finger against her slit. She was slick and ready. Using his thumb, he circled
her clit and slid a finger inside. She was smooth and wet, and she smelled so good.
All the while, he continued to sweep his tongue across the hard flesh of her breast.

Allie writhed beneath him and again grasped his hair with one hand. “I want your cock,
Trevor.”

“Yes.” He kissed her, almost tenderly as he slipped his finger from her body, but
he wanted to be in her so badly, he ached.

She wound both of her legs around him this time. He brushed his lips over one of her
heated cheeks as he thrust inside her. To the hilt. Oh God, yes. “Talk to me, Allison.”

She stroked his back. “Fuck me, Trevor.”

There was no place he’d rather be than inside Allison Campbell. He felt the walls
of her pussy clench around his cock. Then he ran his lips across hers. “Do that again.
Tighten up.”

She did as she kissed him back.
Tighten
and
release.
Over and over until he thought he’d go mad from it.

Then he began moving, slowly at first, pulled out almost completely, then stroked
back inside of her.
Heaven.
In and out, faster and faster.

Allie’s soft moans had him straining. He wanted to hold off for as long as he could.

She reached down and touched herself as she looked into his eyes.

“Filthy details, Allison. Tell me what you like.”

“I like…” She licked her lips and continued to move her fingers in small circles over
her clit.

“Tell me,” he ground out.

“I like it when you take control. And when you fuck me hard.”

He obliged and slammed his cock into her, retreated, then did it again. “Come,” he
ordered. He couldn’t hold out much longer. “Come for me, Allison.”

She did, bowing her back, shoving her breasts upward. He watched them sway as he continued
to pound into her.

He felt his balls tighten, and came. It was intense and powerful, draining him as
he continued to pump. Even after he was empty, he thrust a few more times, burying
his face in her neck. Her long hair tickled his cheek and he smiled against her damp
skin.

She ran her hand up and down his back, kissed his temple, smoothed the hair away from
his face with her other hand. He lay on top of her, unable to move.

How long they stayed that way, he had no idea. He didn’t care. He felt too good.

Finally, he roused himself and leaned back as he gazed down at her. She was asleep.
He tried not to jostle her when he stood, but she opened her eyes and stared up at
him. Her gaze tracked him as he removed the condom, wrapped it in a tissue, and tossed
it in the trash.

He walked back to the sofa and, bending down, pushed aside a strand of her hair. “Are
you all right, love?”

“Mmm hmm.” With a smile, she stretched her arms over her head. His eyes strayed to
her breasts once more.

“I don’t remember the last time I felt this relaxed.” When she sat up, he straightened,
giving her some room to move. She reached down and grabbed her clothes. As she pulled
on the thin, white cotton shirt, he couldn’t take his eyes off her. She stood and
hiked the shorts up her legs, over her hips.

She glanced over at him, taking in his face, chest, finally lowering to his cock,
which had started to rise again. “Are you going to get dressed?” Her eyes remained
fixed.

“Haven’t decided.”

“But you said Arnold frowns on nudity.”

He swiveled his head left and right. “I don’t see him around, do you?”

She looked like she was fighting a smile. Crossing her arms, she angled her head.
“Are you telling me that you’re going to prance around the house buck naked?”

He looked down his nose at her. “I’ve never pranced in my life, nor do I intend to
start now.” A slow smile crossed his lips. “But the naked bit, well, that sounded
like a challenge to me.”

The next morning, Allie cracked one eye and glanced at the clock. She couldn’t remember
the last time she’d slept until nine o’clock. ��Shit.” She sat up, the covers falling
from her naked breasts. She’d promised to make French toast for Brynn.

She glanced down, saw a bruise along the side of one breast. “Trevor.” She’d spent
most of last night having lots and lots of mind-blowing sex with him. His tongue wasn’t
just good for smartass remarks. She smiled at the memory. It was really good at other
things too.

She glanced over at the side of the bed where Trevor had spent the night. Picking
up the pillow, she shook out the indentation where his head had been and mussed up
the covers. She didn’t want Frances to know he’d been here. Silly but true. She was
embarrassed. A mistress who didn’t want the help to know she was boinking their boss.

She hopped up and scanned the room for her clothes. The robe lay on the floor by the
door. Her sash lay half under the bed. She jerked on the robe and snatched the tie
around her waist, then bent over and peeked under the dust ruffle. How the hell did
her T-shirt and shorts wind up there?

A knock sounded at the door and Frances walked in with a tray. “Oh good, miss, you’re
awake.”

Allie dropped the dust ruffle like it was on fire. “Good morning.”

Frances set the tray on the table next to the bed and bustled over to the curtains,
pulling them back, letting the bright morning light spill into the room.

“Thanks, Frances, but you didn’t have to bring this to me.”

“Mr. Blake thought you might like to have a lie in this morning. He said you had quite
a late night.”

Her cheeks flooded with heat. British bastard. Was he going to put it on a mobile
billboard and parade it up and down the Strip?

“Said he kept you up late, watching a movie. Loves those old movies, he does. Just
like his grandfather, God rest his soul.”

Allie’s shoulders sagged in relief at hearing his excuse. Wait, grandfather? “Yeah,
that was sad.” She cast her eyes to the ground. She felt a little bad, playing Frances
like this, baiting her for information on Trevor, but he never talked about himself.

“Oh, I know. Gutted, Mr. Blake was. Like peas in a pod, they were.”

“Did his parents attend the funeral?”

“Mrs. Mags attended, of course.” Frances stepped into the bathroom. She emerged a
minute later with an armful of dirty towels.

Allie cast her eyes around the room, trying to think of what to ask next. “So, Trevor
spent a lot of time with his grandpa?”

“Almost every holiday. Not like he had much choice, mind you.”

“What about his parents? Why didn’t he spend holidays with them?”

The older woman stiffened her spine. “I don’t gossip. You’ll have to ask Mr. Blake
if you want those kinds of details.”

“I did. You know he’s never going to tell me. At least give me a hint. Or tell me
why they got divorced in the first place.”

Frances pursed her lips as though she’d sucked on a lemon and walked toward the door.

“What did Nigel do to Trevor?” Allie’s words were rushed.

Frances took a deep breath and turned around. “I’ll tell you this. There’s a reason
why Mr. Blake don’t like seeing his parents none, but it’s his tale to tell. Mrs.
Mags expects you downstairs in half an hour. Going shopping for the wedding.” With
her head held high, she left the room.

***

Allie sipped her coffee and reached for her phone. She texted Brynn, saying she was
sorry for missing breakfast but she would be home after school.

Brynn texted back that she had a club meeting and was going to study for a test with
a friend afterward. Allie hoped it was true. Her little sister needed to socialize
more. Brynnie seemed far too isolated these days.

Allie still planned to stop by the house, maybe throw together a quick dinner and
stick it in the fridge. Her dad wasn’t known for his cooking skills, and Allie hated
the thought of them eating sandwiches while she dined on Mrs. Hubert’s four-course
meals.

After drinking her coffee, Allie stepped into the shower. As she stood beneath the
warm spray of water, lathering her sex-sore body, thoughts of last night came pouring
back. Trevor between her legs, Trevor touching her, sucking her, entering her from
behind while she held on to the headboard for all she was worth. The last two days
made up for the last four sexless years.

She donned a pretty bra and panty set to match her red-and-white polka-dot sundress.
She slipped on a pair of kitten-heeled sandals and made her way to the foyer, where
Mags waited for her.

“Good morning, darling.” She kissed Allie’s cheek. “The beefcake chauffeur is waiting
for us. Let’s go.” She donned enormous sunglasses and headed outside.

Allie trailed after her. Once they’d settled into the back of the limo, Allie avoided
glancing at Mags and stared out the tinted window instead. How could she look at the
woman when Allie kept thinking about the nasty, amazing sex she’d had with Trevor
the night before? Awkward.

“Are you and Trevor having a spat, dear?”

Allie turned her head, her eyes wide. “No.”

“Because he was terribly cross this morning. More so than usual, even.”

Really? Allie would have guessed he’d be in a great mood—very sated and relaxed. Maybe
she was the only one who thought the sex had been amazing. Earth shattering. Hotter
than Vegas in the middle of August. What if it was just another shag to him?

“What’s Nigel up to this morning?” Allie was desperate to change the subject.

Mags sighed. “He took breakfast in the bedroom. I’m afraid he’s pouting, as the Blake
men are prone to do.”

“It’s none of my business, Mags, but why is Trevor so angry at the two of you?” Normally
she wouldn’t have asked such a nosy question, but Trevor wouldn’t tell her anything
and neither would Frances.

The older woman said nothing for several seconds. Then she sighed. “The truth is,
Nigel and I were never very attentive parents. I’m a passionate woman”—she placed
her hand on her chest—“and Nigel is, well, let’s just say he has extremely powerful
lusts.”

Allie almost winced. “I shouldn’t have asked. It really is none of my business. I
don’t need to know the details—”

“When Trevor was young, Nigel and I were too caught up in our stormy relationship
to give him the attention he needed.” Mags carried on as if Allie hadn’t spoken. Like
mother, like son. “We divorced when Trevor was six. I remarried”—she flicked her wrist—“several
times. And Nigel remarried too. Also several times.” Her eyes narrowed briefly.

“Poor little Trevor got lost in the shuffle. I moved to Spain with one of my husbands,
then to Australia with the next, to France, and finally to America. I just returned
to England a year ago, where I reconnected with Nigel, and well, here we are.”

Allie stared at Mags with an open mouth. “What about Trevor?” Was this why Trevor
never spent holidays with his parents—no, screw holidays. How about every day? “Where
was he during all this? With Nigel?”

Shifting her legs, Mags twisted the diamond rings on her fingers. “Trevor went to
boarding school when he was eight. Nigel and I thought it would offer him some continuity.
And of course, he stayed with my father until then and spent holidays there as well.”

That was the grandfather, the one who watched old movies with Trevor.
Two
peas
in
a
pod.
Allie knit her brow. “Hang on, eight years old?”

Mags shrugged. “Boarding schools take children at a very young age. We thought it
was for the best.”

For whom? Allie tried to imagine what it would be like to have two completely self-absorbed
parents send her away at the age of eight. Her parents had always been loving and
caring, not only to her and her sisters, but to each other. Yes, her dad checked out
mentally when her mom got sick, but before that, he’d been a good dad. Poor Trevor.

“Why didn’t he stay with you during the holidays, Mags? Or Nigel?”

Mags swallowed. When she removed her sunglasses, her eyes were shiny with tears. As
she blinked them back, her long lashes fluttered rapidly. “I realize I’ve been a horrible
mother, Allie. I do know that. I feel it every time I’m in the same room with him.
I’ve always been too involved in my own life, so has Nigel. That’s why we’re here.
We want to set things right with Trevor. We want him to be a part of this wedding
so that we can all move forward. A new beginning.”

Allie shook her head and tried to keep the judgment out of her voice, but it was difficult.
“I don’t think it works like that.” They had damaged Trevor, abandoned him. How could
he just get over that and move on?

The limo stopped in front of Crystals. Simmons opened the door for them, and Mags
replaced her glasses before exiting first. As she stood at the entrance, her smile
seemed forced. She smoothed her hand down her tight blue dress. “Well, we’ll just
have to hope for the best with Trevor, won’t we? I think I’ll get married in red this
time. I’m so tired of dreary white.” She nodded at Simmons before strolling through
the door.

***

“What about this one, darling?” Mags stepped out of the dressing room wearing a very
short, red bandage dress with a plunging neckline.

Allie was speechless. “I hope you’re not getting married in a church. That dress is
sinful.”

“I was thinking about having it in Trevor’s garden.” Mags turned around and viewed
her backside in the three-way mirror. “Of course, I haven’t told Trevor yet.” She
twirled around and faced Allie. “How do I look?”

Allie smiled. “Beautiful.” In fact, Mags looked more sexy and voluptuous than ever.
Perfect for a Vegas wedding.

Mags’s hands drifted over her breasts, her flat tummy, and hips, then smoothed their
way across her ass. “I don’t like to brag, but I do look hot.” She grinned. “Oh, darling,
who am I kidding? I love to brag.”

Allie smiled. That was such a Trevor thing to say. He was more like his mother than
he realized.

“Now, what are you going to wear, Allison? How about something white and frothy? Like
Changing
Rooms
, the bridal version?”

“I’m not sure what that means, but it’s your wedding, Mags.” Allie shrugged. She didn’t
want to wear something white and frothy. She wasn’t sure she wanted to be in the wedding
at all.

After hearing about Trevor’s childhood, Allie understood his animosity toward his
parents. And while she liked Nigel and Mags, Allie disapproved of them too. She felt
protective of Trevor, didn’t want to see him get hurt again. She knew he was a grown
man, perfectly capable of taking care of himself, and she already had too many people
to take care of. Still, she worried. That was the one thing she was good at.

Allie watched Mags and the saleswoman flit around the store while she remained in
the comfy chair and sipped sparkling water. Mags indulged in champagne, but after
yesterday, Allie was sticking to nonalcoholic drinks. She reached out to the mirror-covered
square table and nabbed a toast point covered with caviar. After one bite, she grabbed
a napkin and wrapped up the rest of it, sticking the whole thing back on the table.
Sipping her water to rid herself of the fishy, salty taste, she heard her phone buzz
and pulled it out of her purse.

“Where are you?” Trevor’s tone was clipped and impatient. The exact opposite of last
night. Then, his words—whispered in a husky, sexy accent—had shocked and excited her.
But now he acted like it never happened. So, last night really hadn’t meant anything
to him.

Her heart skipped a couple beats. She was being stupid. For him, this was the norm—sex
was just sex. He didn’t attach any importance to it. But she felt like an idiot for
being so satisfied and content this morning.

She took a deep breath. “I’m great, English, thanks for asking.”

“Fine. Allison, how are you, darling? Well, I hope. Now, where in the bloody hell
are you?”

“I’m in one of the most exclusive department stores in town, learning that caviar
is disgusting and they should leave the poor fish eggs alone.”

“You’re shopping with my mother, then?”

“You got it, Slick.” She leaned back over the tray of goodies and picked up another
toast point, this one with pâté. She nibbled the edge. “Oh, this is fantastic. The
caviar was horrible, but the pâté is delish.”

She heard a long, deep sigh. “Don’t ever call me Slick again, Miss…Allison. And the
way you’re moaning over that pâté has me as hard as a rock. Why don’t you come home
and take care of that for me?” Suddenly, she felt lighter. He’d been affected by the
hot sex too. So glad to know she wasn’t alone.

She smiled and sipped. “I think I’ll stay right here. Besides, your mother is picking
out a bridesmaid’s dress for me.”

“There’s not going to be a wedding.”

“She wants to have it in your garden. And you should see the dress she plans to wear.
It’s barely there and fire-engine red. Sorry, English, but I think there’s going to
be a wedding. And if your mother has her way, you’ll be wearing a kilt.” She smiled
and hung up the phone. It was nice to get one over on him for a change.

Mags came back with a one-shouldered, ivory, beaded mini dress. “What about this,
Allie, love?”

“I thought you were going with the red dress, Mags.”

“Not for me, for you, dearest.” Then she got a thoughtful look on her face. “Although,
it is my size.” She walked back over to the mirror and held it in front of her. She
sighed. “No, this is for you. I’ll get one in blue.”

***

At two o’clock, Mags was still going strong and showed no signs of letting up. She
actually liked trying on clothes. Allie left her in the capable hands of the saleswoman
and let Simmons drive her to her home.

When he held the car door open for her, he tipped his head. “Just let me know when
you’re ready to be picked up.”