Tank (Moonshine Task Force Book 2)(32)

I can’t help asking the question because I love knowing he’s affected as much as I am. Most of the time I’m completely comfortable in my skin and one hundred percent sure of who I am, but there’s still a part of me that likes to hear it.

He reaches out from where he still sits, bringing me into the circle of his arms and his spread legs.

“Mid-twenties me is contemplating staying here with you in this room for at least a few more hours and not letting you go until we’ve made up for lost time.”

I bury my head in his neck. “Mmmmmm I can’t say I’d disagree with that, but I already have marks on my neck I’ve had to conceal.”

“It’d be your fucking dress next, Blaze. I’d have to get you out of it, and it might not make it in one piece.”

My pussy clenches at the visual his words conjure. I’ve never been with a man like Trevor before, and God-willing I won’t know anyone except him the rest of my life. He makes no excuses for how he likes things to go in the bedroom and he allows me to play. I have absolutely no complaints either way.

“I’m not going to lie, I’d love to see how many pieces you can rip this dress into. We could hole up in here for the weekend and forget these last few months where I was stupid not to answer your texts. But…” I grab hold of his lapels, pulling myself closer. “Tomorrow is Christmas and I think your family would miss it.”

“Tempted to say fuck the family, but I really want to see Stella,” he cups my face in the palms of his hands. “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”

“Hurt me? No, I loved it. I’m kind of sore because it’d been a while, obviously.”

A noise in the back of his throat makes me not only laugh, but goosebumps to rise on my arms.

“I’m glad there was no one while we were apart,” he nuzzles my ear. “At least I didn’t fuck it up that much.”

“It wasn’t just you, Trev,” I nuzzle him back, melting into his arms. “We both said and did things that weren’t mature.”

He grunts. “But I started it.”

I won’t argue; he’s telling the truth. Had it not been for him giving me an ultimatum, I wouldn’t have left, but honestly I could have handled it better.

I lean in, kissing him on the lips, softly and slowly. “C’mon, we gotta go make an appearance.”

He groans, kissing me softly on the neck. “Alright baby, let’s go make an appearance.”

*

I’m nervous as we snake our way through the friends, family, and strangers who have gathered in my parents’ home to celebrate the holiday. Drinks are flowing, finger foods are being eaten, and I’m sure deals are being made in my daddy’s office. There the expensive scotch has been brought out, as well as the Cuban cigars. He’s more than likely closed on something that’ll make him another couple hundred thousand dollars. Mom’s working the room; I can see her from where I stand, flittering from one group of ladies to another. This right here is everything I hate and everything she loves. Whitney would have been the perfect daughter for her.

“Daphne dear,” her voice is like nails on a chalkboard. Tightening my fingers around Trevor’s, I pull him in her direction.

“Hi, Mom.”

She leans forward, kissing me on both cheeks. “Daphne honey, it’s so good to see you.”

I can feel Trevor vibrating at my side. He always laughs when he hears anyone call me by my real name.

“Mother, I’d like you to meet my boyfriend, Trevor Trumbolt.”

With assessing green eyes, so much like mine, I watch her rake his body from his toes to the top of his head. She appreciates good looking men, and I can tell by the way her eyes light up, she appreciates the man on my arm. I want to hop up, wrap my legs around his waist, fuse our mouths together, and fucking lay claim to him. It wouldn’t be the first time mommy dearest flirted with one of my boyfriends since I turned eighteen.

“Trumbolt,” she puts her hand out, fluttering her eyebrows as he politely takes her hand. “Any relation to the party planner, Whitney? Her name has been thrown around to possibly do our annual fundraiser in April.”

My stomach clenches in both excitement and dread for Whitney.

“Yes, ma’am,” he answers. “She’s my older sister.”

“Oh honey, call me Olivia. Any friend of my daughter’s is a friend of mine.”

I cover my snort up by coughing.

“Thank you, ma’am, but my mother raised me to respect my elders.”

Mom sniffs, shooting him a glare. There’s a flare of irritation in her eyes that she isn’t the recipient of his attention.

Dear Lord, but I do love when Trevor throws those manners out the window and takes me exactly how I want him to.

My mom takes a drink from the champagne glass in her hand. “Thank you, at least, for dressing decently, Daphne.”

I open my mouth to tell her your welcome, but she continues.

“Now have you decided you’re going to give up that servant’s job you insist on keeping? Perhaps Trevor here can convince you to stop doing things beneath your station in life.”

And just like that, she’s managed to piss me off. “No Mom, in fact Trevor’s a cop.”

She gives him a slick smile. “I would imagine a man would have to be strong to take another man down.”