Page 47 of Loving Trent
Shawn leans closer, pressing his lips to my ear, and whispers, “Shhh, baby, we don’t want Harley coming out here and catching us.” His hot tongue comes out to lick around my ear, leaving fire in its wake.
“Fuck,” I moan, but quieter this time.
His hand moves up to my tip, where he finds pre-cum because, of course, I’m fucking leaking for him. He does this twisting motion, and I bite my lip to keep from screaming because of how amazing this feels. He continues to stroke me up and down, twisting when he gets to the tip, running his thumb over my slit, milking me like a goddamn pro. “Are you going to make a mess of my hand, baby? Are you going to come for me?”
My nails dig into his shoulder as I start to thrust into his hold. “Yes, yes, yes,” I pant as my balls draw up, and a fire races down my spine.
Shawn bites my neck and then growls, “Then fucking come for me.”
“Fuck.” The word is drawn out as my whole body locks up, my dick thickens, and hot ropes of cum squirt all over Shawn’s hand. He continues to stroke me through my orgasm until I’m too sensitive, and the only thing holding me up is his body pressed against mine.
“Fucking beautiful,” Shawn says, wrapping his arm around my waist, holding my body to his. He pulls his hand from my pants, and while looking me in the eyes, he licks all of my cum from his hand. Once he’s done, he growls, “So fucking good.”
He has turned my brain to mush, making the idea of forming any words unimaginable. Thankfully, a knock on the door saves me from having to say anything. Shawn leans forward, kisses me, and says, “Go clean up, and I’ll get dinner plated.” He turns around and heads toward the front door while I zip my pants and head to my bedroom. The same bedroom, I’m hoping Shawn will want to share with me very fucking soon.
Twenty-Three
SHAWN
After coming back inside with the pizza, the first thing I notice is that the atmosphere has shifted. It isn’t filled with uncomfortable tension, but there is clearly tension in the air.
Tension not filled with lust.
Trent is quiet throughout dinner. In return, I’m also quiet. All I can think is that maybe I pushed him too far earlier. That I should have waited to touch him sexually. He said I could touch him, and he seemed to enjoy it, but what if I triggered something from his past? The version I got was condensed, given our time frame, but it was enough to know it had to have left scars.
The fact that Trent won’t meet my eyes pushes me closer to the edge. Something happened after he came, and I don’t like it one bit. Poor Harley tries to get both of us to talk, and we do. We answer her questions and smile at her, but it’s not the same smile as earlier. My stomach sours for good when Trent pushes away from the table after only eating two slices.
“I’m going to step out and make a call,” I say, leaving with my tail between my legs. Stepping out to make a call wasn’t a total lie. I’ve been turning over something and want to talk to Dad about it. Maybe he can help me with whatever the hell is going on right now. If I can bring myself to tell him about my sex life.
“Is everything okay?” Dad asks as soon as he picks up.
The thought of telling him anything that happened between me and Trent sours my stomach, so I chicken out. “Has anyone thought about contacting Trent’s parents? I’ve been thinking about how we could find out more about the process of getting someone sent to the camps. I don’t want to bring it up with him, but?—”
“No one has said anything to me about it, but that’s not a bad thought.”
Pride grows in my chest that I might actually be able to help Trent get his closure, even if I fucked up whatever this was between us before it started. But as quickly as it grows, it deflates. “I don’t think Trent should be the one to do it or even know about it.”
“Shawn, I think he’s strong?—”
“I’m not saying he isn’t, but obviously he’s still dealing with everything that happened to him. I think confronting his parents could do more damage than good right now. I don’t want to push him too far before he’s ready.” The rain has stopped, and the clouds have drifted away, leaving the night sky clear. Stepping off the porch, I head toward Shawn’s truck, lean against it, and stare up at the twinkling stars.
Dad sighs, and I picture him running his hand over his face like he always does when thinking. His fingers will twirl the end of his beard, which he always keeps in a braid. “I’ll call Jackson and have him find out everything about them. Maybe he can find something we can use to make them talk. Once I have the information, I’ll?—”
“I want to come with you to talk to them,” I say forcefully. I’m dying to confront the people who shoved little Trent away and never thought twice about his safety. Before Dad can say anything, I say, “I won’t take no for an answer.”
“Okay, Son, but we will do it my way.” Dad’s tone has taken on a hardness that he only uses when he means business.
“I know the drill.”
“I’ll call you tomorrow. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
Instead of heading back inside and trying to talk to Trent, I cross my ankles, lean my head against the window of the truck, and turn it so I’m looking at the house. Through the windows, I see Trent putting the leftover pizza in the fridge. My heart lurches at the thought that I hurt him earlier. I pull up my contacts and call the only person who can help me figure out how to move forward. The only person who has had to navigate this problem.
“What’s up, man?” Zak answers on the third ring.
“Don’t go into details because she’s my sister, but when you were first with Sammy after everything William did to her, how did you know you hadn’t pushed her too far?” A lump forms in my throat at the thought of my little sister having something in common with Trent. Neither one of them should ever have had someone touch them with the intent of hurting them sexually.
