Page 34 of Loving Trent (Love in the Bootheel #5)

Twenty-One

SHAWN

Coming outside—running away—is supposed to give me a chance to collect my thoughts and figure out why I’m feeling the way I am.

Is it? Not one single bit. The only thing it's doing is making me wet and cold, thanks to the wind. But I’m so deep inside my mind that I’m not paying much attention to it.

It’s October, the sky is gray with clouds that look heavy, the wind is whipping through the silent streets, and I have no coat or shoes, but I don’t really feel it.

What’s freaking me out isn’t the fact that I met Trent once, because that was over twelve years ago and around the time that I started to obsess over Zak.

All I saw, thought, and dreamt about was Zak.

What makes my body shake, my stomach turn, and my chest squeeze is how I feel betrayed by Trent because he didn’t tell me before.

Even though a small piece of me is asking when he would have time to tell me.

My thoughts are confusing me. I drop my head into my hands, a scream growing in my chest, digging its claws into my throat, begging to be let out, but I grit my teeth to keep it in.

This isn’t me, I don’t get this worked up over someone this quickly.

“Shawn.”

Like a candle blown out, everything poofs out of existence.

The scream vanishes, and all the uncomfortable feelings melt away like snow on the first warm day.

However, one question lingers. Why does Trent’s voice, his presence, do that to me?

I quickly look over my shoulder and find him standing right behind me.

My shoes dangle from one hand, and the other holds his leather jacket.

I don’t move to take them from him, nor can I get my mouth to form any words.

The wind blows again, catching his hair and whipping it up.

I bite back a groan because I want to tangle my fingers through it.

Trent slowly approaches me as if I’m a scared animal.

His dark eyes never leave mine as he continues to walk until he’s standing in front of me.

He bends down, sitting my shoes on the asphalt, and shakes out his jacket.

Which he then puts around my shoulders. I don’t bother fighting the urge to slide my arms inside.

For one, I’m starting to feel colder; second, it smells like him.

Trent gently picks up my foot and slides my shoe on like I’m a toddler getting ready for the day.

When was the last time someone took care of me like this?

The answer leaves an ache behind that is so wide I’m not sure it will ever close.

“I’m sorry.” His sincerity is dripping off his words, but his eyes are trained on the sky. That hurts. I want his attention on me. All of it. All the time. But why?

“Why didn’t you tell me?” And why do I care so fucking much, but of course, I can’t ask him that.

“Because if I told you that, I would have to tell you the other stuff.” I watch his Adam’s apple bob when he swallows, and I envision tracing it with my tongue while he is deep inside me.

Am I the only person whose emotions volley like this?

Mere seconds ago, I was freaking out over everything, but now all I want is to be closer to him.

The swinging emotions leave me dizzy and lightheaded.

Closing my eyes to help everything stop spinning, I ask, “What other stuff?” What more could this man be hiding from me?

He shakes his head and sighs. The sigh sounds heavy and like it hurts him, which makes me hurt for some reason.

Without much thought, my hand slides off my knee, over Trent’s, and doesn’t stop until our fingers are laced together.

Trent looks down at our joined hands and says, “I’m not sorry for anything, but I am sorry that I put that panic in your eyes.

I never want to see that again. I keep messing this up, and I don’t know why. ”

“Just explain it all the best you can,” I whisper and scoot closer to him. The small space is eliminated, and we are pressed against each other. His body heat seeps through the jacket, and I press a little closer. “I just want to understand what is going on.” God, if that isn’t a loaded statement.

“When I was thirteen, I became obsessed with you. It was insane, but from the moment you basically ran me over with your skateboard, I couldn’t think about anything or anyone but you.

You were the first person that I was attracted to, and at first, it scared the shit out of me.

I didn’t understand what my body was doing or why?—”

Trent’s uneasiness and nervousness hit me in the chest, pulling at the younger version of myself that was just as scared the first time I felt the sexual pull to another guy.

Needing to offer Trent the reassurance I desperately wanted back then, I cut him off.

“That’s okay, Trent. I remember the first time I realized guys made my dick hard.

It’s a scary situation for anyone, and that’s nothing to be ashamed about. ”

“Yeah, but I bet you didn’t ride your bike across town just to catch a glimpse of the guy.

Or steal the hoodie that he dropped because it smelled like him.

Nor did you go to every store looking for the cologne they wore.

” Trent still isn’t looking at me, and desperation for his eyes grows stronger like the storm picking up around us.

“You did that?” The wind swirls around us, the cold nipping at our exposed skin. Seeking the warmth coming off Trent, I inch even closer to him.

“Yes.”

Why does that make me all warm inside? I smile softly, trying to picture a younger Trent lying in bed smelling a hoodie, and the image that comes to mind is teeth-achingly sweet.

“Well, the first guy I was obsessed with was my best friend. I might not have ridden my bike across town just to see him, but I did spend an ungodly amount of time at sleepovers just staring at him while he slept. I might have spent longer in the bathroom smelling his stuff as well.”

“B…best friend?” Is that jealousy I hear choking his words? My dick twitches, and the cold no longer bothers me thanks to the warmth working its way up my neck. Trent jealous… Yeah, I like that way too much.

“Yeah, Zak.”

Trent tilts his head to the side, shrugs his shoulder, and says, “I mean, he is kind of hot, but…” He finally looks up, and the fire in his eyes lights a fire in my body. Which travels straight to my dick. “He has nothing on you.”

“Trent.” His name is nothing but a whisper and is just short of a fucking moan.

His eyes land on my lips, and the fire in his eyes blazes brighter.

“I’ve dreamed of kissing you, tasting every inch of your body.

” His eyes do a long sweep down me, leaving a trail of heat behind.

“Of sinking all the way into you as you screamed my name…” His eyes finally connect with mine again.

“But I won’t do any of that until I tell you everything. ”

My breathing has turned shallow, and my dick is made of fucking steel pressing uncomfortably against my zipper. Lust consumes me as his words paint a clear picture in my head. “Then tell me.”

“I saved you.”

I lean back as my eyes widen, and my mouth drops open.

“Y…you saved…from the fire?” Trent is nodding before I even finish my question.

“Fuck it,” I say, then throw myself at him.

My free hand runs up his cheek and into his hair as my lips crush his.

At first, Trent is unmoving under me, but then his lips start moving with mine, and a groan rumbles in his chest. He pulls his hand from mine, and the next second, I’m sitting on his lap.

His tongue licks the seam of my lips, and I open, letting him in.

With the first stroke of his tongue against mine, I turn into a puddle on top of him.

I can’t get close enough. I want to crawl inside this man and fuse myself to him.

His hair is soft and thick as I pull on the strands, using them to press myself harder against him.

Trent’s hands are digging into my ass as if he is making sure I don’t go anywhere.

Our erections are pressed up against each other, and it’s making me leak in my pants.

He sucks on my tongue, and I moan, but he swallows the loud sound.

I bite his bottom lip and feel his dick twitch, so I do it a second time.

Gone is the fall storm that is bordering on winter, chased away by Trent’s hands on me. In its wake is the hot, brutal summer we always have in Missouri.

“Wait,” Trent says against my lips, and I whine.

“No. I don’t want to.” My lips chase his. Once I find them, a low groan falls from me as I slowly pull his bottom lip into my mouth, sucking on it.

Trent slides one hand up my back and into my hair.

Which he grabs and pulls my head back. His pupils are blown wide.

His lips are red and swollen. I wonder what they would look like after I fucked his mouth.

“While I fucking love everything about this and,” he thrusts against me, causing me to moan aloud this time, “want so much more with you. There is something that might change all of this for you.”

I raise one eyebrow in a dare because I doubt he can tell me anything that will make me not want him. “Try me?”

“I’ve been kind of stalking you for the last five months.”

I try to get my lips on his again, but his hold on my hair makes that impossible. Another whine comes from my lips. I hear his words but don’t pay them much attention. I want him so fucking much I’m about to burst into flames.

“Shawn, did you hear me?”