Until Trevor (Until, #2) by Aurora Rose Reynolds
Prologue
Trevor
“You’re really f*cking tight!” I say, sliding through her wetness, feeling her wrap tight around one finger. “How long has it been?” I ask her, while biting down on her earlobe; damn, I love the sound she makes.
“Never,” she whimpers, raising her hips up to meet my hand.
Jolting awake, I look at the time, seeing that it’s just after two in the morning. “This shit is getting ridiculous,” I say, scrubbing my hands down my face. Ever since the night I had my hand down Liz’s pants, this shit’s been plaguing me. The second the word “never” came out of her gorgeous mouth, everything stopped. I couldn’t f*ck a virgin, especially one that’s as sweet as Liz.
“You’re awake?” Anna…or Amber—maybe it’s Angie—says from the other side of the bed.
“Yeah, time for you to go, sugar,” I say, sitting up and wondering why the f*ck I keep doing this to myself. Fucking these other women is like walking with a bottle of saltwater through a desert. You know it might look the same, but it still won’t fulfill the need you have.
“Can’t I stay?” She whines, running her fingers down my back.
“Nope,” I say, standing and pulling up a pair of my grey AE sweats.
“So you’re just going to kick me out?”
“Nope, I'm telling you it’s time for you to go. Kicking you out would be bad manners.”
“When can we meet up again?” She asks, putting back on her tight blue dress, wondering how the hell she slipped out of it so damn fast last night.
“I’ll call you; just leave your number,” I say, walking into the bathroom, knowing by the time I get out, she will be nothing but a memory.
*~*~*
“Yo, T!” Cash says, sliding into the booth across from me. I smirk; he uses that word at least a hundred times a day. “What are you doing here?”
I raise an eyebrow, shoving another piece of French toast into my mouth, and answering without speaking.
“You’re going to Mom and Dad’s this weekend? Asher is finally lifting the ban on access to July, so Mom’s having a big party,” he says, looking excited.
“Does he know that Mom’s having a party?” I ask, thinking that if he doesn’t know anything about this, he’s going to flip the f*ck out. Yep. I’ve only seen my niece twice, and only held her once, after November forced Asher to give her over.
Cash shrugs, looking over my shoulder. “Yo!” he calls, waving his hand. I look back and see Liz standing near the front door. Her long blonde hair is over one shoulder in some kind of messy braid; her strapless summer dress is fitted around her perfect breasts and reaches the floor. She waves, her cheeks turning a pretty pink; then I see red when some guy pulls her in for a hug.
“And who the f*ck is that?” I growl, knowing that my brothers are used to my Liz issues.
Cash shrugs again. “Don’t know,” he mumbles, watching them. “Yo, Liz. Come here for a second,” he calls her over. The guy she’s with walks to a different booth and sits facing us.
“Hi, guys,” she says, her voice as soft as the curves of her body; and with me knowing what she feels like and smells like, it still f*cks with my head.
“You’re going to Mom and Dad’s for the party this weekend, right?” Cash asks.
She looks at me, her face closing off before she answers, “I'm, um, not sure.”
“Who’s the guy?” I ask. She looks startled by the question for a second.
“Just a friend,” she says, wringing her hands together.
“What’s his name?” I ask, looking over at the guy, who has his eyes pointed right at her ass. He’s younger than me by a few years. His dark blonde hair is a mess, and he looks like a f*cking bank teller in his cheap-ass suit.
“Bill,” she says, looking at Cash. “I'm going to go now; I might see you guys this weekend. I’ll, um, let your Mom know.” She turns, walking back over towards cheap-ass suit Bill, who’s watching each step she takes. I have to hold myself back from going over and smashing his face into the wooden table.
“When are you going to stop f*cking around?” Cash asks.
‘She’s f*cking innocent, man,” I mumble, shoving my plate away.
“So what, T? Because she’s not a f*cking slut bag like the bitches you normally f*ck, you aren’t interested?” he asks, and deep down I know he’s right. She was mine from the first time I laid eyes on her at my parents’ house. She was sitting outside, laughing with my mom; right then and there, I knew that she was mine. Then we became somewhat friends; one thing led to another the night of my niece’s birth. I finally had her under me, and she rocked my world with the news that she’s a virgin. Ever since that day, I try to avoid her.
“Gotta go,” I say; getting up, I throw some money on the table, and look at Liz one last time. Great! The guy is reaching across the table, putting her hair behind her ear. My blood boils. I know I need to get over it, or step up to the plate; but either way, I need to make a move. The guy looks over in my direction; his chin lifts in warning. “Game on, motherf*cker,” I say under my breath, heading out the door.