Jacked (Trent Brothers #1)(87)

No! I didn’t want to move. I was cozy and comfortable right where I was, swirling in my post-orgasm haze. His sweatpants fell down my hips when I crawled off and stood. I scrambled to pull them up, suddenly very aware of my nakedness. I looked around for my discarded shirt, wondering why he disrupted our interlude.

“Come on,” he said, reaching for me. I retied the drawstring at my waist and grabbed my shirt and bra up off the floor. He left me no time to dress, towing me toward the steps.

I slowed him down before he could climb the first stair. “Where are we going?”

“My bedroom,” he said without regard. I covered my chest with his shirt, wondering if I was ready for all of this.

I think he sensed my subconscious hesitation. Concerned but thoughtful chocolate-brown eyes gazed down at me. “I wanted you from the first moment I set eyes on you, Erin. And the first time I make love to you isn’t going to be on a couch.”

My mouth fell open.

“If you don’t want me like that, say so now. Otherwise I’m going to keep walking up those steps and I’m not stopping until you’re completely naked and giving yourself to me.”

His directness made me smile.

“That’s what I thought.”

I had to hurry behind him to keep up.

He closed his bedroom door behind us and stalked toward me. I felt trapped, caught in the lion’s den, about to be eaten. He stopped in front of me and gave me a light kiss. “Give me a minute.”

A rush of exhilaration whirled through me just watching his commanding gait as he walked off into his master bath. It seemed as though everything Adam did was with either purpose or conviction, making me question if he’s even aware of his masterful presence. Doubt, as always, crept back into my thoughts, leaving me to ponder how I got so fortunate to be this intimately close with him. Surely he has flaws, doesn’t he?

It would make me feel so much better about myself if he did. I’d been weak-kneed and all doe-eyed since that first kiss, and as a reminder I touched my lips.

I heard the toilet flush and the sink water running, and my nerves pricked in anticipation. I quickly threw his black shirt on, feeling too vulnerable, too exposed. I tugged the shirt as long as it would go, and then tugged once more for good measure. Needs of another kind spurred me into action now, glad that he was finished in there. His sudden smile at seeing me was enough to level me where I stood.

“My turn,” I said, making light of the fact that I needed to pee in the worst way and then assure myself that all of that, from before, didn’t funk up the works down below.

His fingers lightly drifted over my arm before cinching me in place. His nose drifted over mine. “Don’t take too long, Doc.”

“I’ll try not to.”

Deft fingers pulled the drawstring holding my sweatpants up, and I felt frozen, unable to move, mesmerized under his intense gaze.

If only I could live a thousand years in his eyes.

His fingertips skated over my bare hips, down the slope of my ass, sending a ripple of goose bumps all over as he uncovered my skin.

God, I want you.

“You won’t be needing these,” he said as he pushed the soft jersey away. A tangle of sweat pants pooled around my ankles while the sudden nip of fresh air on my legs made me shiver.

His foot landed between my legs. “Step,” he instructed.

I pulled my feet out one foot at a time.

He took my bare rear end in a possessive hold and drifted his mouth down my neck, nipping my collarbone with his teeth while I untangled myself from my discarded sweats.

“Hurry,” he whispered across my lips.

Behind the closed bathroom door, I was another story, needing the separation to calm myself. “Here I am, Adam, all naked and ready to be f*cked!” seemed like a bad way to start off our first time together.

First time.

Just those two words alone set things in motion that once done could not be undone. The pre-med version of myself skipped back into view, wagging her finger at me to not be such an easy slut like we were that day virginity made her final exit.

I’d had a few first times with a couple of other guys since then, and although I’d felt wanted and desired by them, those encounters paled in comparison to the intensity at which Adam conveyed those messages.

Adam had put me in motion, making my body respond to his every command, taking away my need to choose.

There was a part of me that was actually relieved by that. Like when we were getting my new license plate, Adam just took control. He was bossy. In charge. Strangely though, I liked it. No, I loved it. Randy never took command; he sort of fell on my sofa and just made himself at home.

The first time Randy and I had sex we were a bit drunk. We’d been out partying with a couple of other residents and a handful of ER nurses, blowing off steam drinking beers and tossing back endless rounds of shots while listening to ear-pounding music.

It was awkward—that first time. We were sloppy, smacking our heads together in our hurry. Every encounter with Randy after that was a race to the finish, never taking the time to really appreciate the journey. He never took the time, which left my confidence shattered that I wasn’t worthy.

Ever since the trial fourteen years ago, I’d been living with guilt, feeling punished and isolated and heartbroken. How many lonely nights would I have to spend atoning for my sins? I’d poured every ounce of energy into my studies and career goals, hoping one day I might be able to redeem myself and find forgiveness, save an innocent life before it was too late.