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Chapter 5

Tia did just that, grasping handfuls of the comforter between her fingers as Trent sank his length deeper and deeper inside of her.

Her eyes closed even though she’d wanted to watch him. If she could keep her focus on Trent, on the here and now, the past couldn’t hurt her. But as her lids fluttered and finally closed Tia realized the past wasn’t hurting her. Sure, her heart was heavy with the weight of what she’d lost two years ago. But her body was also filled with what she had right now.

And what she had was two hundred–plus pounds of gorgeously muscled, virile man who knew just the way to touch her, kiss her, stroke her. Tilting her head back against the pillows she felt her own teeth sinking into her bottom lip as Trent settled himself snugly inside of her.

“Look at me,” he commanded.

Her eyes flew open to find his face only inches from hers, his dark eyes boring into her.

“It’s just you and me, Tia. Tonight. Just you and me.”

His voice was stern and Tia nodded her head, acknowledging what he was saying to her even as he pulled out of her, sinking blissfully back into her heat.

Trent didn’t know what was going on in her mind but he’d be damned if she would think of anyone or anything else besides him tonight. If he had to use every ounce of sexual expertise he possessed he would make certain of that.

Leaning forward he kissed the corner of her lip she’d been biting down on, stroking his tongue over the plumped section before sucking it gently into his mouth. She moaned and he circled his hips, pressing her farther into the mattress. Her thighs tightened and clasped around his waist. He was trapped inside of her, not that he was complaining. His mouth was locked with hers, their tongues mating the same way as their sex.

That’s when he felt it. The first inkling of something different. Yes, this was Tia St. Claire he was making love to. And, yes, he’d already adjusted his mind to the fact that for some odd reason she was different from the other women he’d known. But this feeling, circling and swirling in his chest as he moved over her wasn’t explainable. And what Trent couldn’t explain he either ignored or pounded until his understanding was clear.

At this moment he didn’t feel like doing, either.

Instead he tore his mouth away from hers, then reached behind to uncurl her legs. Hooking the backs of each of her knees in the crook of his arms, he lifted them higher, until only the upper half of her body was on the bed. With quick thrusts he moved inside of her watching the sensual play of emotions on her face.

She was gorgeous, her small braids spread across the pillow like a golden halo. Her eyes were half closed, but the hazel orbs shone brightly with desire. Her lips were parted as she panted, lifting her hips to match his rhythm. As lovers went, Tia was scoring more than average marks with him. She matched his intensity and desire every step of the way, challenging him with a look, a shift of her hips, a touch of her hands.

Dammit, that feeling in his chest seemed to magnify with this position. He stopped mid-stroke, closing his eyes in an attempt to get his thoughts together.

And she reacted.

Lifting up from the bed she managed to slip her legs out of his grip so that she was sitting and he was kneeling. Her hands flattened on his chest and she applied pressure as if to tell him to lay down. Trent’s eyes opened, finding hers glaring at him in challenge.

“My turn,” she said before stroking her tongue over his lips.

Every sane thought ran directly to his erection, making it harder, more determined than ever to find its release. He was lying back now, without a word, smiling up at her as she situated herself above him. Her long legs held her steady as she gripped his sex leading him to her waiting cove. She lowered herself ever so slowly, taking in one excruciating inch at a time. Her braids cascaded over her shoulders in a sexy curtain. Trent lifted his hands grasping handfuls of her hair pushing it back from her face.

Her features were concentrated as she lowered farther and when their bodies touched and he was completely impaled in her she looked at him. “Ready?” she asked.

Trent shifted his hips, settling himself, then grinned. “Ready and waiting. Show me what you’ve got.”

And that she did. With what seemed to be choreographed movements she rotated her hips, lifted slightly upward, then came down over him repeatedly. Trent’s mind had gone blank several times as his fingers gripped her hips. With her head thrown back, her breasts jutting forward and moans slipping from her lips Tia rode him like a woman possessed.

Or a woman trying desperately to lose herself in the moment.

Trent continued to watch her, taking her movements and matching them with his own. When she stiffened above him he lifted up from the bed, driving his sex deeper into her while wrapping his arms securely around her back. When her release came she went limp in his arms, her forehead falling forward to rest on his shoulder.

Continuing to work himself inside of her, Trent found his own explosive relief and groaned as her fingernails pressed into the skin of his shoulders. They sat there a moment, both of them trying to catch their breath. Then she shifted, trying to get free of his grasp but he held firm.

“I have to go to the bathroom,” she said in a slightly irritated voice that just about shattered any thoughts of intimacy.

Trent released her because, after all, he wasn’t the cuddling sort of guy. The room grew instantly chilly as she slipped away from him and walked unashamedly naked across the floor to the bathroom. With a sigh Trent lay back on the bed wondering what the hell had just happened.

They’d had sex, that part he knew, and felt, as his breathing was just getting back to normal. But he was no fool. In fact, he was smarter than most people gave him credit for. Still, he admitted that it wouldn’t take a rocket scientist to know that something wasn’t totally right about what had just happened.

When Tia came back into the room Trent had already pulled the comforter and sheets down. He stood as she approached the bed, put her hair up and slipped on a nightgown, lifting her feet as she sat on the end, then he tucked her in, but that didn’t matter. He’d seen her gorgeous body naked. Now, no matter what she wore, he’d always have that picture emblazoned in his mind, just the way he liked it.

He was about to move away when she grabbed his wrist. “Are you leaving?” she asked.

Trent couldn’t help but frown. This woman was a bundle of contradictions. One minute she was feisty and telling him to get lost, the next she was cuddling in his arms and feeling on him seductively. She’d moaned and just about broke the skin on his back when she came then bit his head off when he tried to hold on to her afterwards. What the hell was up with that?

“I’m going to the bathroom,” he said when he should have told her yes he was leaving because he was getting tired of the Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde act.

But as he moved into the bathroom Trent had a sinking suspicion that Tia had needed him tonight. Not “him” specifically but someone. She didn’t want to be alone—of that he was certain—and he wasn’t complaining about being the one to end up in bed with her.

Still he wondered as he wiped the warm washcloth over his face and down his chest, what was really going on with her.

Tia stepped onto the treadmill the next morning with one goal in mind: walk until her mind was completely clear. Of the anniversary. Of Jake and Jessica. And definitely of Trent Donovan.

When she’d left her apartment well before the crack of dawn this morning he’d been still asleep in her bed. He’d stayed with her all night, cradling her in his arms as if she were the most important thing in the world to him.

Which she knew was an out-and-out lie.

Trent Donovan didn’t give a rat’s ass about her. He’d wanted to sleep with her for months now and she’d given him that chance. In fact, he’d done her just as much of a favor by staying. She hadn’t wanted to be alone and if she’d had to choose a way to spend that most horrible night, she wasn’t about to complain about it being in Trent’s arms.

So she swiped at the sweat already beginning to bead on her forehead, pressed the button and walked a little faster. She had been in such a hurry to get out of her apartment without waking Trent that she’d forgotten her iPod so she had nothing else to occupy her mind. Not that music would have helped.

It was the morning after and instead of being curled up in her bed sobbing or even curled up in her bed with the mesmerizing Trent Donovan, she was here at the gym. She was losing her mind, that’s exactly what she was doing. Any other woman would be back at her apartment probably gearing up for another round of the most spine-tingling sex she’d ever experienced. But, no, not Tia.

It wasn’t worth it. He’d been there when she needed him and that was that. For all she cared Trent Donovan could move on to his next victim and she wouldn’t bat an eyelid.

From her bag on the floor Tia’s cell phone chirped. She did a running jump and leapt from the treadmill, almost tripping over the bag as she dug her hand inside to find the phone. Looking at the display, she rolled her eyes when she recognized the number.

“Hi, Camille,” she said as cheerfully and out of breath as possible. So much for not being pressed about Trent Donovan, she thought acknowledging her own disappointment that it wasn’t him calling.

“Thank God,” Camille sighed on the other end. “Where are you? I was so worried when you disappeared from the party last night. When you didn’t answer your home phone the ten times I called first thing this morning I began to panic.”

With one hand Tia reached into her bag for her towel. Wiping her forehead she cradled the cell phone between her ear and her shoulder. “Sorry. I should have told you I was leaving.” And I probably would have if your soon-to-be brother-in-law hadn’t carried me out the back door. As if he were rescuing her, Tia thought whimsically. Get real, she was not Camille and fairy tales were not on her agenda.

“What’s up? I didn’t have a shoot today, did I?” Tia was very professional, she kept an accurate schedule and regarded her date book like the Holy Bible.

“No. Nothing work related. I just wanted to make sure you were okay and to ask if you’d like to have lunch.”

“Ah, actually, I’ve got some errands to run today, Camille. So I’m going to have to pass.”

“Okay, well, if you change your mind just give me a call on my cell or come on over to the Donovan family estate around one. You remember where that is, right?”

Tia closed her eyes. Camille was just too nice to curse out. She wanted to be alone today, not at some family function for a family that didn’t belong to her. “Yes, I remember where it is.” They’d done a shoot at the swimming pool there a few weeks ago because Camille thought the intricate shape of the pool—it was shaped like the African continent and painted at the bottom to resemble the tribe that Henry Donovan descended from—would be a lovely backdrop for her Afrocentric collection. “But I really don’t think I’ll be able to make it.”

“That’s fine. But, Tia, I hope you’re not spending the day alone. You spend far too much time by yourself. You need to get out more.”

That wasn’t what Tia needed but she couldn’t very well tell Camille that. “I like being by myself,” she said instead.

Camille was quiet for a moment. “That used to work for me, too.”

Tia knew this was where the conversation would shift. Camille would go into how rough a time she’d had it when she was young and with her low self-esteem, thinking that Tia could relate to her. Which she could not since Tia never had self-esteem issues. What she had was a hardened resolve to never be hurt on the level she once was. The loss of a mate was one thing, but the loss of a child at the same time was something completely different.

Just the thought was sometimes unbearable for her. Her grief had festered, she knew. It was unhealthy as the psychiatrist she’d seen immediately after the accident had advised. But Tia didn’t give a damn. She’d developed a way to cope and that’s what she was doing. All work and no attachments. And she didn’t need her employer telling her any differently.

“Listen, Camille, I was in the middle of my workout. Thanks for checking up on me but I’m fine. I’ll talk to you on Monday,” she said, then disconnected before Camille could say another word. Because Tia was close to breaking down. If Camille had said another word about being alone Tia didn’t know that she could hold it in.

Being alone used to work for her, that’s what Camille had said. Well, it had worked just fine for Tia for almost two years. But if truth were told, these last two months had been different. Harder, it seemed, because there was a longing inside of her that did not want to be ignored. A longing that Tia feared would be her ultimate demise.

Chapter 6

He wasn’t upset.

He was pissed off!

Trent slammed the door of his truck and took long, angry strides towards the door to Madge’s Gym. The second the front door closed he’d bolted up in Tia’s bed. She hadn’t slammed the door. No, she’d closed it as quietly as she could manage. She’d probably forgotten that her alarm system beeped at the opening and closing of any doors with access in and out of the house. It was a good system, he’d noted when he’d seen the control panel near her front door last night.

She’d snuck out on him, the little minx. He thought she’d at least leave him a note, after all he was sleeping in her bed. But there was nothing. That was what pissed him off. It was rude not to say anything the morning after. And you would know because you do it all the time.

That was his brother Linc speaking, so Trent ignored that thought. But what he didn’t plan to ignore was the fact that she’d begged him to stay with her, then she’d run out. It had only taken one phone call to Joshua Landy, his SEAL teammate, to trace Tia’s license tag. Fifteen minutes later he’d received a call with the address to where the car was located. Thank God her car had a built-in GPS locator. Technology was an amazing tool if utilized correctly.

After swinging past his condo to shower and change clothes he quickly made his way to the gym to confront Ms. St. Claire.

It took him less than ten minutes to find her even though the club was crowded on a Sunday morning. She was straddling a bench, her long muscled legs tensing as she worked her upper body on an arm-press weight machine. Instinctively his eyes roamed her body, from her legs to her thighs, to the center he now knew to be hot and wet, and upward to her slim waistline and full breasts. It was there his gaze stopped, hesitated, then went red.

She was using the cable crossover but whatever her weights were they must have been a test to her usual strength because standing entirely too close to her was a Mr. Universe wannabe with long dreadlocked hair and a face that looked all too happy to be touching Tia’s arms.

Each time she pulled her arms in, Mr. Universe’s hands slid along the length from her shoulder to her wrist. When she expanded outwardly Mr. Universe opened his arms to do the same. The man was straddling the bench, as well, standing so close to Tia that they could actually kiss…That probably wasn’t the best scenario to pop into Trent’s mind because in no time he was moving across the room to approach them.

“Mornin’,” he said in a less than happy tone once he was close enough to them.

Mr. Universe looked over his shoulder. “What’s up? You need a trainer for the day? Check the board to see who’s not already assigned.”

At his sides Trent’s fists clenched. Did he look like he needed a personal trainer? His body was in perfect shape courtesy of the U.S. Navy and his current regimen that he’d learned in basic training. Nobody at Madge’s Gym could do what he did to keep his body up and he didn’t want them to. He also didn’t want them doing anything to Tia’s body.

“Trent? What are you doing here?” she asked with an accusatory tone that Trent ignored.

“I could ask you the same thing,” he replied tartly.

“And the answer would be obvious.” She lifted a brow then nodded at Mr. Universe who again touched her arms as she pulled the weights inward.

This guy must have a death wish, Trent thought. That was perfectly fine with him, he hadn’t had good hand-to-hand combat in quite some time. Then it hit him that they were in a room full of other people trying to get their workout on. Trent, being one of the infamous Triple Threat Donovans, did not want any more attention than was absolutely necessary. So he reined in his temper as best as he could, and said, “I’d like to speak with you alone, Tia.”

Her arms jerked backward and the weights slammed down to the ground. Mr. Universe turned to him with a definite scowl.

“Look, man, she’s only got ten more reps to go then you can say whatever it is you need to say to her. But for right now you need to back off.”

Trent felt the tension and welcomed the rage, taking a step closer to Mr. Universe and grabbing him by the back of his muscled neck. “I’m not your man. And if anybody’s going to be backing off, for your sake and for the sake of the other people in this gym trying to go about their business, it better be you.”

Tia was trying to stand but her legs were tangled between the bench, Mr. Universe and now Trent, who were standing so close they could probably smell her. Instead she reached out grabbing Trent’s wrist that was squeezing the pulse out of Mr. Universe. The man had tilted his head back to lessen the grip but was unsuccessful. Trent was trained to kill even though he was only trying to intimidate this go-around.

“Let him go, Trent. We can go someplace quiet and talk,” she said desperately.

“I don’t see your trainer backing off,” Trent spat.

“It’s okay, Carlo. I’m just going to go and talk to him. I’ll finish my workout later.”

So Mr. Universe’s name was Carlo. Well, Trent didn’t give a damn. His name needed to be Mr. Two-Step because that’s what he needed to do to get the hell away from Tia, now!

Tia applied pressure to Trent’s wrist, trying to pull him off the trainer’s neck. “Trent. Stop it. You’re making a scene.”

“I told him to back off.”

“And he will once you let him go.”

There was logic to that, Trent thought, but there was also logic to breaking this fool in half for daring to touch Tia. But that was going too far, he knew. So with a deep breath he loosened his grip and took a step back.

Mr. Universe almost tripped over the weight bench trying to get away from him.

“Call another trainer when you’re ready, Tia,” he said and made a hasty retreat.

Trent couldn’t help but smile inwardly. If anybody was going to shape and mold Tia’s body it was going to be him.

“Wipe that satisfied smirk off your face. Your performance was juvenile and unnecessary.” Tia headed out of the room.

He followed her. “And so was your little exit this morning.”

“I don’t owe you any explanations,” she said over her shoulder, then pushed through the door marked “Stairs.”

Trent followed through the door, then reached out grabbing her and pushing her back against the wall. “You owed me at least a goodbye or good riddance. Let’s not forget you were the one who set the ball in motion last night. So don’t play the wounded victim now.”

Even sweating she smelled sexy, like wild berries and musk. It was scintillating, the scent reaching his nostrils then floating through his body like an aphrodisiac. They were alone in this stairwell but the building was full of people. Still he wanted to wrap her legs around his waist and take her right here, right now.

“Nobody said I was a victim,” she said pushing against his chest futilely. “I just had things to do.”

“And you couldn’t wake me up to tell me that. Why sneak out of your own apartment? If you didn’t want me there all you had to do was tell me to leave.”

She stared at him a moment as if she were going to say something, then she looked away.

“So that’s it? You’re just going to run away now? I thought you were better than that,” Trent said.

“You don’t know me,” she spat, then took advantage of his shock and twisted out of his reach.

Trent sighed, staring at her as she turned away from him. This was the other side of Tia St. Claire, the side that kept poking its way to the surface only to be pushed back by the wall she’d created around herself. The side that he warned himself to steer clear of.

Trent had never been one to listen, not even to himself.

“I’d like to get to know you,” he heard himself saying.

She was shaking her head when he approached her again. His hands instantly went around her waist because not touching her wasn’t an option. Pulling her back against him Trent nuzzled his face in the crook of her neck.

“We started backwards. I was supposed to take you to dinner and then seduce you.”

She chuckled and Trent felt a wave of relief wash over him.

“This isn’t a storybook romance,” she said finally.

“Who needs romance? I’m talking about eating. If you’re going to be the workout queen we have to keep you fed.”

She laughed again and Trent felt her relaxing in his arms. What was it that made her so tense and almost afraid at times?

“Look, Trent, we don’t have to do this. I’ll apologize for skipping out on you this morning. You can apologize for acting like a Neanderthal back there with Carlo and we can both go on about our business.”

She’d twisted in his embrace so that they now faced each other and Trent saw that the wall was back in place. She’d gathered her strength and was now facing him as she faced the rest of the world. Only, unlike the rest of the world, Trent knew it was an act. The question was why?

“I’m not apologizing to Mr. Universe. He should know where to put his hands. But I will accept your apology for this morning and offer dinner as a way of calling a truce. We always seem to be fighting each other when it’s obvious that’s not how we want to carry things.”

“What’s obvious is that you weren’t satisfied with one night,” she said with a hint of surprise. “I have to say that’s strange coming from one of the Triple Threat Brothers.”

Trent didn’t flinch at their name, nor did he try to deny the implications. He’d lived for years knowing that the name and reputation that went along with it had paved the way for him to steer clear of many emotional entanglements. Now he wondered if it would work to prevent him from getting what he wanted most. And he could admit, now that he’d caught up with her and had touched her after making love to her, that he wanted Tia St. Claire like a drunk wanted liquor.

The moment she’d seen Trent her heart rate escalated. Tia tried to keep her breathing as neutral as possible as Carlo guided her movements and from the corner of her eye she saw Trent approaching.

Vegas wasn’t that big of a town that they couldn’t coincidentally like early Sunday morning workouts at the same gym. And Trent was in excellent condition. Of course he worked out. It had taken about five seconds for her to toss that theory right out the door. And another five seconds for Trent to approach looking like a tall, dark warrior with a purpose. To kill.

Carlo was built and looked like he could possibly survive a round or two before Trent would eventually beat him down but Tia wasn’t willing to risk it. She’d defused the situation the best way she knew how. She agreed to talk to Trent alone. But the moment Carlo left, the familiar fear of Trent Donovan had risen, clogging her throat so that words were difficult to come. Her best defense was to run, in the most dignified way possible, of course.

Damn him, he’d followed her. A small part of her knew that he would. Trent was not a man to give up when he wanted something. That was a fact she’d already learned about him.

How foolish of her was it to go into the stairwell? The answer was resoundingly clear as she was now facing the wall, his hands around her waist, his lips on her neck. She could scream from wanting this man so badly. But it wouldn’t do her much good.

Logic and past heartache told her to run, to forget appearances and get the hell out of Dodge. Yet something else held her still. A small part of her wanted his touch, his admission to wanting her easing an ache that had occupied her heart for much too long. But Trent wasn’t looking to touch her heart. He wanted her body. Another fact made perfectly clear by the thick erection pressing into her bottom.

This she could do, Tia thought with relief. Unlike most women sex for her wasn’t a key to her heart. It was as natural and instinctive as breathing. She and Trent were attracted to each other and for once she’d agree that he was correct, there was no use in either of them trying to deny the obvious. So why not continue to sleep with him? As long as they kept it just sex. It would be nice to feel a warm body next to hers on the regular.

“I know you’re not afraid of me, Tia,” he was saying, his large palms splaying over the exposed skin of her stomach.

“No,” she whispered resting her forehead on the wall. “I’m not afraid of you, Trent.”

“Then stop trying to run from me.” His words were punctuated by one hand slipping beneath the rim of her shorts and the other headed north to cup her already aching breast. Again he’d pressed the thick bulge of his arousal into her bottom as if he would enter her right now if not for the barrier of their clothing.

That thought had Tia’s heart pounding, her mouth and center growing moist. She couldn’t run now even if she wanted to. As his palm moved farther south cupping her mound, she hissed and arched back into his arms.

“It’s like instant fire between us. From that day on the runway when I simply touched your hand I’ve been craving you.”

His voice was hoarse with desire, both his hands working their magic on her until the mere thought of defying this desire between them was out of the question.

“I know,” she whispered, then licked her lips.

Trent had been running his tongue alluringly over the line of her neck, but the moment she moistened her lips seemed like his open invitation. With a nudge of his shoulder her head was turning so that claiming her mouth was inevitable.

And with lightning fast strokes his tongue entered her mouth, taking hers on an endless ride of passion, stoking this undeniable fire he’d mentioned between them.

No, denying it was useless, so instead she fell right in line with Trent’s intentions, lifting a hand to cup the back of his head, pulling him closer, deeper into the kiss. That action earned a deep growl from Trent as his fingers splayed over her mound, one devious digit parting her moist lips, finding her tightened bud. Over and over the pad of his finger worked the puckered flesh until Tia’s knees were growing weak, her breath coming in quick, hot pants.

“Trent,” she sighed when his mouth had moved from hers to nip at her chin.

“I know, baby. I know,” he said stepping back far enough to turn her around to face him.

It took ten seconds, maybe less for him to maneuver one of her legs out of her shorts. Simultaneously Tia’s hands were at the rim of the astoundingly sexy running pants he wore, pushing them down to his muscled thighs. Through the slit in his boxers she found what she needed so desperately, wrapping her greedy fingers around his erection instantly.

“Yes,” he moaned, then lifted her free leg to wrap around his waist.

His lips were on hers, hot and demanding as she fondled him, rubbing her fingers over the tight tip of his arousal then stroking downward.

“That’s right,” he mumbled, “take what you want.”

And that she did. When stroking him was no longer enough, her body so hot and eager to take him totally, Tia guided his rigid sex to her weeping center, flexing her hips to take him in. Trent followed her lead by pushing the thin wisp of her thong aside and thrusting so that he filled her in one quick movement.

She threw her head back until it gently hit the wall and she sighed. Trent’s forehead dropped to her shoulder as they both kept completely still for a second…two…then three.

Her entire body was trembling, her muscles clenching around his arousal as if to hold on to him forever. Her nails dug into his shoulder and Tia prayed for strength, for oxygen, for anything to keep this moment from ending. Never had she desired a man like this, needed his touch, to keep her mind focused. She’d known it would be this way between them and, truth be told, had been afraid of it. Trent was right, it had happened that first day at the fashion show. The moment she stepped up on the stage and he’d taken her hand, the sparks had begun to fly.

She’d avoided his phone calls for just this reason. Trent Donovan was a powerful man. Not just in his military training or his hefty bank account, but in his allure over women. Surrounding him was this aura of masculinity that was like an aphrodisiac to any woman with a pulse. And she had been no exception.

He began to move inside her, thrusting his hips so that those sexy hollows in his buttocks were pronounced. Yes, in addition to his mouthwatering looks, Trent had a butt that male models would die for. She’d spied it last night and now moved her hands down his strong back to cup them in her hands. He was hard everywhere, tight and tempting and for the moment, all hers.