Until Trevor (Until, #2)(31)



I shake my head, clearing my mind. “You know the old saying? Guys who drive big trucks have—” He rolls us over so I'm under him, and he grits his teeth, sliding out of me.

“Don’t finish that thought.” He shakes his head, chuckling.

“What? You don’t have that problem.” I laugh when he starts tickling me. “Okay! Okay! I won’t talk about it!” I yell.

He stops his torture, his elbow going into the bed next to my head. “You ready to get out of town?”

“Yes. Plus, I'm excited. My mom is the happiest I have ever seen her.”

“George is a good guy,” he nods.

“Yeah, he is,” I agree. My mom met George two years ago online. George had been divorced for four years; he waited until his youngest was in college before he started looking for a relationship. He had gone on a few blind dates and nothing ever worked out. One day, he was home watching TV and a commercial about an online dating site came on. He said “what the hell”, and signed up. That was around the time I signed my mom up behind her back. I wanted her to be happy. I hated seeing her so lonely; she deserved to find someone. Shortly after I signed her up, George sent her a message. That’s when I told her about the site and what I did. At first, she didn’t want to write him back, but I convinced her that if she didn’t like what he said through e-mail, that she never had to speak with him again. So she took a chance, and after a few e-mails and phone calls, they met up. He lives about an hour from us in Alabama, and since their first meeting, they have been inseparable.

“I'm going to talk to George about what’s going on.”

“No, you’re not!”

“He needs to know in case something happens.”

I narrow my eyes, “What could my brother possibly do?”

“Did you ask yourself what he could possibly do before he stole your money? Then called you needing more? He’s calling your mom, saying he’s working undercover; do you not see how f*cking serious this is?”

“Yes, I f*cking see how serious this is!” I yell, stand up on the bed, and look down on Trevor where he’s lying. “He is my brother; the same one who took care of me after my dad died.” I can feel my chest heaving up and down. “So excuse me if I don’t want to call the police or tell my mom. I'm trying to help him the only way he asked; he said he needed more time, so that’s what I'm giving him.” I jump off the bed. Realizing that I'm Naked, I stomp to the dresser and grab a shirt. Stomping into the bathroom, I slam the door and turn on the shower.

“Don’t walk away when we’re talking.” I hear him say as he opens the door.

“You were talking, Mr. Know-It-All,” I say, pulling the shower curtain closed behind me. I grab my shampoo, squeezing half the bottle into my hand out of anger, that pisses me off even more; its expensive shampoo, and you’re only supposed to use a little. I hear the curtain slide back, but I ignore it, and continue washing my hair.

“You’re pissing me off, baby.”

“You’re pissing me off, baby,” I mimic. I can’t help it; he makes me so mad that I revert back to being five-years-old. I hear him laugh, and I want to punch him.

“Have I ever told you how cute you are when you’re pissed?” I open one eye to look at him. Sure enough, he has a big smile on his face. He takes a step towards me, his hands going to my hair. “I know you love your brother, baby, but you need to know that if something happens because you keep trying to protect everyone, you’re going to end up feeling like shit, because you could have said something.”

I know he’s right, but I'm torn. My brother and I were close after my dad died and my mom closed down. He was all I had for so long. I close my eyes, my forehead going into Trevor’s chest. He steps us back so I'm under the showerhead and starts rinsing my hair. He then leans over me, grabs my conditioner, squeezes the bottle, and then his hands are massaging it into my hair. “I know you’re right,” I whisper, guilt eating me alive. “I keep praying that Tim will come home and do the right thing, but deep down, I don’t think that’s going to happen. But I don’t want to give up on him either.”

“You’re not giving up on your brother. You’re giving him a chance, and letting the people who could end up hurt prepare.”

“How can I want to kiss you and punch you at the same time?” I ask, shaking my head.

“You’re kinky like that,” he says, tilting my head back. Before I can say something smart, his mouth touches mine, his hands travel down my sides to my ass, and he lifts me, my legs circling his hips. “I didn’t use a condom earlier,” he says against my lips. I freeze, pulling my mouth away from his. “I'm clean.” He turns, pressing me against the tile.

I swallow; why didn’t I think about that? I shake my head. “I'm on birth control,” I say, more as a reminder to myself. Then he thrust inside me. “November got pregnant when she was on birth control,” I say out loud to myself again, then moan when he withdraws, only to press inside me harder than before. My head falls back against the tile. He doesn’t say anything, just continues to slam inside of me, his mouth sucking and licking my neck, collarbone, and breast. When his teeth scrape against my nipple, I feel myself start to come around him; my nails dig into his shoulders, my legs tightening, pulling him deeper.

Aurora Rose Reynolds's Books