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Authors: J.A. Hornbuckle

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BOOK: The Possibility of Trey
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"They have the right to go fast and run lights. We don't," Trey answered equally as impatient with both traffic and his lack of speed. But figuring Mr. Sheridan's complaint was due to worry more than anything else, the biker decided a different sort of conversation might be in order. "So how long have you and Mrs. Sheridan been married?"

"You can call us Mary and Miller," the old man conceded, his face pointed towards the window he couldn't look out of. "Seems fitting with all you're doing for me and mine."

"Thank you, Miller. You can call me Trey," the younger man said in reply.

"Twenty-nine years next month. Met my woman while on leave in Butte. I wasn't the youngest buck to be chasing her but I was seasoned enough to know a good one when I met her."

"Lucky man to be living with two beautiful women," Trey responded, taking note of the pride that had crept into the man's voice.

"Yep. Smart, warm, beautiful and they can cook! You don't have to tell me I hit the jackpot, son." Trey couldn't help his smile even in light of the drama of the morning.

"How's the little asshole doing?" Trey felt a tension creep up between them at Miller's question.

"Better, sir. We've, ah, changed direction and things seem to be improving." Trey had been shocked by the new reports of Drake's behavior with only the fucking promise of a shared dinner and a PG-13 movie in the company of the curvaceous Carmi, whom he'd learned was only nineteen and not attached to any one specific brother.

"Threw some pussy his way, huh?"

Trey felt his eyebrows lift at how astute the old man was.

"Yeah, if beat-downs don't work, hit 'em with a bodacious rack and they'll fucking fall all over themselves," the old man drawled with a smirk. "Works every time with the mouthy shits."

Trey was out and out laughing by the time he parked Dallas's truck in the hospital parking lot. "You're pretty smart for a one-armed, blind guy."

"And you're pretty mellow for a wild-ass biker," Miller barked back as Trey helped him from the cab. "Making out with my daughter on my front porch on a week night?"

Trey could feel his cheeks take on some heat as they entered the emergency room through the automated doors. Luckily the hustle and bustle of the busy area prevented him from answering.

Christ! When was the last time he'd had to answer to a girl's
dad
about something he'd done?

.
.
.
.*

By the time they had my mom stabilized, wired to every machine known to man and ensconced in a room in CCU, it was four o'clock. I'd typically be helping the boys pack up and stow our gear, wrapping the pipes still stacked in their tarps and in general getting ready to end our day.

I missed it and it almost went without saying that I'd rather have spent a day knee deep in muddy trenches than to have had the day we'd gone through. But, Trey never left our sides except to fetch coffee, lunch or to take/make phone calls.

How was he able to spend so much time with you?,
my brain wondered.

Bite me,
my heart replied.

We'd talked with the doctors and were assured that my mom was resting as comfortably as they could make her. The nurses had advised that only one of us were going to be able to stay overnight with her, so it made sense in the whole scheme of things that it'd be my dad. Especially with what had shown itself between them over the last few days.

"You about ready, Tex?" Trey said as he'd lowered himself into the chair next to me in the small waiting room.

"Yeah. I'm wiped, if you want to know the truth," I admitted, feeling his hand move my hair aside to capture the back of my neck.

"Long day?"

"You can say that again." He gave a small chuckle and reached for one of my hands.

"Home it is, then. Are they gonna need anything from the house before you're able to sleep?" My heart caught on his thoughtfulness and the concern in his voice.

"Don't think so. Dad'll be okay until tomorrow when I come by." I found myself talking in the same 'short-speak' as he did due to my exhaustion.

I stumbled a bit as I followed him to my truck. "I'll drive," he offered and I let him without even a quibble. Normally no one drove my truck but me but for some reason, I had no trouble with Trey behind the wheel of my baby.

I was nodding off when I heard him start to talk. "I don't want you in that house alone. So you grab a bag of whatever you and your folks will need tomorrow. "

"Where am I going to go?" Suddenly I was fully awake and alert at his words.

His eyes hit mine and held until the stoplight turned green.

"My place."

My stomach did a tummy tumble that was in the 9.5 to 10.0 range at just those two syllables.

Chapter Eleven

Trey had spent most of the day on the phone, rearranging his schedule and hooking up the people who didn't want to catch a rain-check on their meetings. He'd also taken ten minutes to chew Silo a new asshole for his lack of attention regarding the Sheridan situation that the tall bald man had originally pointed out would need looking after. But mostly Trey spent the day doing whatever he could to make things easy for Dallas and her family.

And now he was leading his girl to his place. A place that, outside of his sister, his mother and the housekeeper hadn't had a woman in it in years.

He was, he admitted to himself, on edge.

It was a house similar to the one she lived in: a sprawling ranch in a neighborhood which at one time had been one of the up-and-coming ones in their city. But whereas the wear was showing on hers, his had been updated, often being the test for new hires of the different crews at Hellion Construction. He had a kick-ass kitchen and a full bath for every bedroom. His heating and a/c were top of the line and both the exterior and interior were repainted every two years. His mom and sister had helped him decorate, finding a sort of a cross between comfort and style that projected masculinity at the same time.

He hoped Dallas liked it and wondered for the thousandth time why her opinion meant shit-all to him.

Trey pulled his bike around to the back and watched as she parked in his driveway. Her truck looked perfect there.

"How 'bout we have dinner delivered?" he offered as she met him on the back stairs. Gaining a nod in response, he led her into the kitchen watching as her eyes took it all in. Where her place had individual rooms for the living and kitchen areas, he'd opened up the space until it was one flowing piece. "Let me show you to the guest room. What would you like to eat?"

"Food," he heard her breathe from behind him as he led her down the hall and chanced a glance over his shoulder. Her eyes were wide as her head swiveled from one side to the other roaming over each room as they passed. "I can and have been known to eat anything."

Even after a day from hell, she was still able to keep things light.

"Mexican okay?"

"Whatever, Trey. If I don't eat soon though, your wood furniture may be in trouble," she said, stopping next to the door he'd halted in front of. "Can I get a shower in before we eat?"

He flipped on the light in the guest room and stood back so she could enter. She threw the two carrier bags on the bed and looked around. Trey wanted to be next to her and found with only two steps he was. "You can have whatever you want, Dallas."

He hadn't deliberately wanted it to sound like a come-on but that's how the words had come out, said deeply and with a rumble. He tried to cover it by adding, "There are clean towels in the bathroom cupboard and shit underneath the sink. Help yourself."

But they must've been on the same page because his sweet, exhausted girl wound her arms around his waist and pressed her cheek to his chest. "Thank you," he heard her whisper. "Thank you for helping and, well, just being there today."

Trey ran his hands over the back of her top and bent his head until his cheek rested against her hair. "It was my pleasure, Tex." She shifted and dipped her head way back in order to capture his eyes. But it was her hand, the one that snaked up to his shoulders and threaded through his hair, that gave him the approval to kiss her again.

And just like the one of the night before, their kiss took on a life of its own almost as soon as they'd both settled into it. Hot and sexily sweet, he lost himself in the taste and feel of her. So much so he didn't realize his hands had moved to cup the sides of her head as he plundered her mouth.

It was a kiss that was not long enough by half in his opinion. And, as soon as it was done, he couldn't help his harshly whispered words. "Fucking hell, Dallas!"

She brought a shaky hand to her mouth as her eyes sought his. "What
is
that, Trey?"

"I don't know, pretty girl. But I need another one."

As their mouths fused again, Trey couldn't help how his hands roamed over her. Their tongue dance accompanied by her soft noises had him achingly erect and he slid his hands to her ass. It felt as perfect as it looked and he couldn't help his grip as he pulled her against the throbbing beast behind his zipper.

Fuck but she felt good!

Without thinking he picked her up and felt her legs entwine around his waist. God, what he wouldn't give to feel her in the same position only completely naked. He took a couple of steps until his shins hit the side of the bed and he lowered her onto it never stopping their mouth's play.

Bracing the toes of his boots on the floor, he began to thrust against her gaining him more sweet whimpering noises as her hips moved to work against him, her booted heels digging into his ass. Christ, she had him on fire and they were doing nothing but kissing and dry-humping.

Trey pulled up and stared at her face that was beautifully flushed with her arousal. A horniness
he'd
damn-well caused. "I want to fuck you, Tex."

He didn't know if it was the baldness of his words or if she was just cottoning on to what they'd been doing, but he caught her look of panic.

"I…ah." Her head turned and her eyes looked everywhere but at him. "This is moving a little fast for me."

He brushed the hair off her forehead. Even though it was disappointing, he understood. Dallas didn't screw around, which was something he wasn't fucking used to from the women he'd chosen as bed-mates. He dropped a kiss to her forehead and pulled himself reluctantly up to stand before her. Catching sight of the wet-spot clearly visible on the denim between her still spread legs, his cock pulsed with male pride.

He'd gotten to her the same way she had him.

"It's not that I don't want to, Trey," she hedged, sitting up.

"I get it. No need to explain, honey." Trey's words were accompanied by a deep sigh.

"But you need to get that sweet ass in the shower right the
fuck
now or…" He dragged a hand through his hair as he turned towards the door only speaking after he'd tried to ease the pinch of his hard-on behind his zipper.

"Or?" Her voice was almost a breathy moan, the kind of moan that made him want to strip her bare, toss her back on the fucking bed and take her every way he could for the next twenty-four to thirty-six hours.

Pausing at the door, Trey stopped. "Just to let you know. Not used to shutting shit down when things get hot. And you generate a fucking fire that throbs inside me, Dallas," he growled, never turning back towards where she stood. When the only sound he heard in reply were her slowing pants, something softened a bit inside him.

"I call for the food," he ground out trying to find his gentlemanly side but shutting the bedroom door with what he knew was a frustrated slam.

It had been both heaven and hell to discover their previous night's kiss had not been a goddamn fluke.

.
.
.
.*

"So I'll be back to visit after work and then I'll take you home," I said to my dad for the forty-seventh time in the last fifteen minutes before I had to leave my half-day shift. The doctor was cautiously optimistic about my mom's condition and dad said she'd had a reasonable night.

I, myself, had slept like a log going to bed after all the leftover food (he'd ordered a ton and hadn't given me any choice in selecting) was boxed and put in Trey's fridge and I'd used one of those wipes to clean the countertops. I think Trey had been a bit disappointed but I really had been tired and didn't want my barriers to be breached when my defenses were down. I had every intention of sleeping with him but wanted it to be when I didn't have family issues weighing so heavily on me.

I wanted my first time with Trey to be as hot and as perfect as the kisses and clenches we'd shared.

While I'd awoken alone, the other side of the mattress was mussed and the pillow dented which made me wonder if he'd come back to share my sleep. I had a vague recollection of a hard, muscled arm around my waist and a firm body at my back. Although I could've dreamt the whole of it since he'd filled my senses ever since our time on the porch.

Coming out of the shower, I'd smelled the ambrosia of both coffee and bacon. Trey, who I knew didn't get to work until sometime after me must have gotten up early and was playing gracious host. As I dressed and tidied the bathroom and bedroom I'd used, I wondered what he slept in. Sweats? Sleep pants? Just the glorious skin God gave him? I was hoping he hadn't felt the need to don a shirt just because I was around since just thought of Trey shirtless gave me a thrill in some very specific places.

BOOK: The Possibility of Trey
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