Page 144 of Defenders of Jawhara

Turnabout was in order, and he took his time with her, kissing and touching every inch of her body until she was a panting, moaning mess, and then he ate her out, making her orgasm twice before she begged him to stop.

She fell asleep in his arms while Trent lay awake, thinking about what Travis had said. Sure, Chloe stirred that impulse he had to protect someone in need—he’d always had that, and in no way did he want to get rid of it. But Chloe really was different. This was different. Yes, he was using her, but he was going to make damn sure she didn’t get hurt in the process.

Now he just had to figure out how to make that happen.

* * *

Chloe was starting to wonder if maybe there was such a thing as love at first sight. She’d spent two days with him—two days of hot sex and sweet kisses and laughter. She wondered what her dad might think of him. She was fairly sure her momma would have taken to him right away, but her dad… She guessed he would peg Trent as someone not used to doing much work, and that would be an easy dismissal from him. It was definitely too early to introduce the two of them. What would she tell her dad? “Hi, this is the man I’m sleeping with…”

She’d just locked up the office when the headache started. She hadn’t had a migraine for well over a month now—stress tended to trigger them, however, and lately she’d been under enough stress to lay anyone low, what with having to relocate her dad, find a place for herself, and get a job. And now work was picking up—her boss had emailed from wherever he was, telling her to take home one of the company tablets so he could reach her off hours “due to the time difference.” Like she needed more to worry about—she should have expected the migraine when she found herself squinting against the office lights just after reading the message.

Trent pulled up in front of the Guardian’s office. She climbed into his Jeep, her tablet on her lap, leaned her head back, and shut her eyes. “Could you take me home?”

“You don’t look all that well.”

Chloe put a hand over her eyes. Light hurt, hit like shards of glass piercing her brain—everything hurt. “I don’t feel all that well. Someone’s beating a very large drum in my head. Migraines. I’m not very good company at the moment.”

Trent put a hand on her forehead. “Home it is.”

She put a hand on her stomach—the nausea had started.

“Aspirin in the glove box,” Trent said. He sounded worried.

She started to shake her head, but that was a mistake. “I’ve got something stronger at home. Then I just need rest and quiet. The meds usually knock me out for about eighteen hours.”

Pulling up in front of the bungalows, he shut off the engine, and she heard his door open and close. She gave a groan. She sat where she was, willing herself to find the energy to get up. Instead, Trent swept her up. She clutched her tablet and tried to look at him, winced at the light, and shut her eyes again. “I can walk.”

“Humor me, dude.” He carried her to her bungalow, somehow managed to get the door open, and the next thing she knew, a soft bed cradled her body. Trent threw a blanket over her—more softness that seemed a comfort. She heard the hiss as he closed the drapes, darkening the room. The pounding lessened a fraction. He took her tablet from her and pulled off her shoes. She heard him moving around, and he came back, propped her up, and said, “Are these your meds? Dude, you don’t fool around with the weak stuff, do you?”

She took the pills, tasted them bitterly on her tongue, and swallowed the cool water. She lay down again, and Trent covered her forehead with a wet cloth. She caught his wrist. “Thanks.”

“I’ll lock up when I leave. I’ll look in on you later.” He kissed her forehead.

She heard rustling from the other room. The front door opened and closed. She frowned. Something wasn’t quite right, but she couldn’t think. She couldn’t do anything.

The painkillers were fast working and already she was beginning to get that floaty sensation that preceded a respite from the horrible pain. Sighing, she relaxed her shoulders and gave herself over to the pills and oblivion.

* * *

Trent waited for a few moments outside Chloe’s place. He’d used his own key to let himself in, hoping she hadn’t noticed. He locked her door now and headed for his place, Chloe’s tablet in hand. He texted Travis to get his ass over there.

Twenty minutes later, Travis let himself in. “Bro, got your text.”

Trent waved at the tablet on his dining room table. “I’ve got a Guardians of the Earth tablet.”

Travis let out a low whistle. “Where’s Chloe?”

“She’s got a killer migraine and just took enough pain meds to desensitize a horse. And we’ve got an opportunity too good to pass up.”

Travis glanced over his shoulder. “Still trying to guess her password to get in?”

Trent nodded. “That and I need a key fob to VPN remotely. I’m going to have to go back to her place.”

He stood and Travis slipped into his seat. “Careful, bro.”

Heading back, Trent let himself into Chloe’s place. She hadn’t had a bag with her when she left work, so the key fob should be on her. Slade Security used a similar security measure. A random code was generated every hour and sent out to the key fobs. If you didn’t have a fob, you didn’t have the code. Trent had lost the first one he’d ever been given and had been chewed out for that. Now he needed Chloe’s.

He eased into the bedroom. Her breathing sounded regular and deep. Slipping a hand under the blanket he’d thrown over her, he felt her front pockets. He got lucky on the right one and felt something hard and oblong. He slipped it out. She stirred in her sleep, muttering one word—a name. “Sam.”

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