Page 21

Trey hovers above me, eyes intense as he stares down.

Fuck, I love him. I should tell him. But not now, not right before sex. After. Yeah, after is when people do that shit in movies.

My hands come up to grip his shoulders. His brows furrow, not understanding, until I give him a hard shove, urging him onto the bed faceup. A small smirk spreads across his lips as he gives in to my request.

Lying back, he grips my hips and hauls me over his own, positioning my wet center above him.

Hands on his chest, I lower, pressing his hard-on between my slick folds.

“Ah hell, Mess. You’re cruel.”

Back and forth I rock my hips, causing me to slide along his length though never letting him enter me. The head of his dick skims across my clit, forcing a squeak to push past my lips. Unable to wait any longer, I grasp his hard cock while lifting my hips and position him directly outside my entrance.

I lock my gaze with his as I lower, pushing him deeper inch by inch until my ass hits his thighs. We both let out a relieved groan as I rock forward, allowing him to sink in even deeper.

“That's it, baby,” he grunts out. The hands on my hips tighten as I rise and lower to a quick rhythm. One hand slides forward and delves between my slick folds. I cry out, my pace faltering at the first hard flick against my sensitive clit.

Stars explode behind my eyes and my thighs quiver. I struggle to keep moving as an orgasm slithers through every inch of my mind and body. Trey shouts a curse, both hands holding my hips as he slams his own against me, driving himself in to the hilt over and over, riding out his own release.

The second he relaxes his hold, I slump forward until my forehead hits his sternum.

“I like you on top,” Trey mumbles. Reaching up, he runs a hand over my head and down my neck. With a tug, he brings my face parallel to his own and captures a chaste kiss.

“I….”Just fucking say it, Randi.“I love….”Oh hell, I'm an idiot.“I love it too.”

Trey’s dark brows rise up his forehead in confusion.

You and me both, buddy. No idea why I can't get my shit together and just tell you what I already know.

I love you.

See, easy in my head, but not so much getting that thought past my lips without sounding like a complete moron. You'd think, “Hey, the first woman vice president of the United States has her shit together.” Well, you'd be wrong. Because I 100 percent have a ton of shit, but none of it is together.

The only thing to sway in my favor these days is Mom sticking with rehab and starting to act like a real mom who calls and cares and shit.

Speaking of that, I need to call Taeler.

“We still have a few minutes before we go back to reality,” Trey mumbles as he plants soft kisses on my shoulder. “Since I'm responsible for getting you dirty, I feel obligated to help you get clean.”

The corners of my lips twitch upward.

“What a gentleman you are, Mr. Benson.” Leaning forward, I nip at the soft skin beneath his ear. “If I wasn’t bound to a bed earlier by you, I'd actually believe it.”

“You loved it,” he says with a growl. Calloused hands swipe down my back before grabbing handfuls of my ass.

“Um, yeah I did.”

“I love your ass.”

“Thanks.” I giggle.

“And your pussy.”

“Figured that one.”

“And your tits are perfect.”

“Really? I kind of want a boob job.”