I turn my head and look over my shoulder at Trevor, who is standing behind me with his arms crossed. He has another thing coming if he thinks that I’m going to be intimidated by him. “Oh, hey, honey. How are you?” I ask, turning my body to the side in my chair.
“How am I?”
“Yeah, you know, the normal greeting when you see someone that you haven’t seen for any length of time.”
“I see. Well, let me tell you how I am,” he says, taking a step towards me, holding his fingers out in front of him. “First, I was stuck in Nashville with a flat tire. I tried to call my doting fiancée to let her know what was going on, and not to worry about me.” I feel slightly bad about him being stuck but not that bad after what he messaged me so I shrug motioning my hands for him to continue on his tirade. “Second.” He growls leaning forward. “I get a call from my fiancée’s brother telling me about some new shit that my doting fiancée didn’t even bother to call and tell me about; and again, when I tried to call and make sure she was okay, I got sent to voicemail.” He takes another step towards me, his body inches from mine; he leans down, getting in my space. “Last, but not least, I go home and find that my sweet fiancée isn’t there, and hasn’t left a note, making me worry and wonder if she’s safe. Then, my brother calls to ask me if I'm going to be having dinner with him and my beautiful, frustrating, infuriating fiancée,” he growls, his eyes narrowing.
“Well, if my handsome jerk of a fiancée would have acted like he knew me at all, and would not have accused me of doing something I didn’t do, then had the nerve to tell me to never do it again, maybe I wouldn’t have turned my phone off,” I growl right back at him.
His jaw clenches, his eyes looking around the table before coming back to mine. “I’ve been worried about you.” He says softly, making my anger dwindle.
“I…I want to be so mad right now,” I say, wondering what the hell is wrong with me that I can’t even be pissed at him for any length of time.
“You want to, but you’re not.” He smirks, making me want to kick him.
“Don’t push your luck, Earl.”
He pulls me up out of my seat, wrapping his arms around me, his face going into my neck where he whispers, “You’re getting spanked for that.” I bite my lip to keep from moaning; his head comes up, his eyes looking over my face. “I love you, but don’t make me worry about you when it’s not necessary. Even if you’re pissed and you just answer your phone to tell me to fuck off, that’s better than not hearing anything from you and wondering if you’re okay.”
“Fine.” I roll my eyes, pushing at his chest, not ready to be over my snit.
“Are you done eating?”
“Yeah, we just finished.”
“You dropping Kara home?”
“Yeah, I drove her here.”
“Alright, I’ll meet you at the house.”
“Fine,” I grumble, he kisses my forehead, then tilts my face back to kiss my lips. Then, he lets me go, walking around the table, patting Asher’s back, kissing November’s cheek, and giving Kara a hug.
“See you at home, baby,” he says, before walking out the door of the restaurant.
“So, he’s a quick learner,” Asher says, smiling. November elbows him in the ribs, rolling her eyes, making me laugh.
“We should get home,” November says, standing. Looking at Kara, she asks, “You want us to give you a ride? You’re on our way.”
“Sure,” she shrugs, looking at me.
“That’s fine. I’ll just see you tomorrow at the store.”
We all pull out of the restaurant at the same time, with me heading in the opposite direction of them. When I pull into the driveway, Trevor is just opening his truck door. I watch him climb down with a case of beer in his hand. He sets it on the tail of his truck and walks to my car, where he opens my door, leans in, and unbuckles me.
“You got here quick,” he says, pulling me up into his arms, slamming my car door.
“Kara rode with Asher and November.”
“Good,” he says against my mouth, before biting my bottom lip. His hand tugs my hair to the side, his mouth opening over the skin of my neck. I love when he takes control of me. I moan, and his teeth scrape against me, traveling up to my ear and biting down. He picks me up, and then stops at his truck, grabbing the beer. I'm trying to get his clothes off as he’s walking. I have his plaid shirt unbuttoned, so I bend forward, licking his chest.
“Jesus,” he says, as I rub myself against him as he’s trying to get the door unlocked. When the door opens, there is a loud thud, and then both his hands are on my ass. His mouth crashes into mine; one of my hands goes to his hair, the other to his belt. His mouth leaves mine, traveling down my chin and neck, then pauses at my chest, where he bites my nipple through my shirt and bra, making me moan. My hands leave him, going to my shirt, pulling it up and over my head, then to the front of my bra to unsnap it. He pins me to the wall, holding me up with his hips, before he grabs both my breasts, licking one nipple then the other. His mouth comes back to mine, his hands going to my ass and thighs, his fingers digging into my denim-covered skin as he walks us towards the bedroom.
“I need you,” I say, biting his earlobe, then licking his neck. He runs us into the wall, his mouth crashing back into mine. We’re both breathing heavily when he starts to undo my jeans.
“You’re only allowed to wear dresses from now on,” he grumbles, making me smile right before he bites my neck, then lowers his head to lick over my nipple again, making my head thud against the wall. I finally get his shirt off and drop it to the floor as I bite down onto his collarbone. He starts moving again, my nails digging into his back as he rubs his fingers along the seam of my jeans. I can feel the wetness pooling between my thighs. “I need to taste you. I’ve been thinking about it all day,” he says, making my body shiver and become even wetter.
“Please,” I whimper; just thinking about him doing that makes me crazy. I bite down on his neck, grinding against him. All of sudden, all movement stops. I think I might have bitten him too hard until I feel him start to tremble.
“What the fuck?” he yells, holding me tighter against him. I lift my head looking in his eyes, seeing that he’s actually trembling in fury, and look over my shoulder to see Jen tied to our bed.
“Holy shit,” I whisper, looking at Jen, who is tied spread-eagle to the bed, wearing nothing but a pair of small lace panties.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Trevor growls, walking us to the dresser, still holding on to me tightly, my chest pressed against his. He pulls out a shirt from his drawer before he turns around, putting me on my feet, pulling the shirt over my head. “Are you okay?” His hands come to my face, pulling my eyes to his. When I see the worried look on his face, I take a step back. My stomach drops when he reaches out for me desperately, but I take another step back, then another, until I reach the bedroom door, motioning for him to step out. He looks at the bed, then me; my blood that was simmering before, starts to boil. I was going to kill this crazy bitch. I look in her direction to see her watching us, not saying anything. I don’t want to look at her again until Trevor is out of the room. He walks towards me, his head low. He tries to touch me, but I shake my head; my whole body is buzzing with anger. When he finally steps out the door, I close and lock it behind him. I turn around to see Jen watching me; her mouth is moving, but she’s not saying anything. I walk towards her. Her eyes following me, getting wider the closer I get.
“So you thought that you would come here, tie yourself up, and when Trevor got home, he would see you in bed and screw your brains out?” I ask, looking at the knots on her ankles, realizing that someone else must have tied her up, because her hands are tied the same way, and just as tight.
“What are you doing here?” she whispers, looking at the door. I think she’s in shock or something; this girl never stops running her mouth and now she can’t even form a few words.
“Don’t act like you don’t know that I live here.”
“You weren’t supposed to be here.” The anger in her voice makes my eyebrows go up.
“I wasn’t supposed to come home to my own house?”
“He doesn’t even want you!” she yells, her body thrashing around on the bed.
“You do know that we’re getting married, right?” I cross my arms over my chest, looking down at her.
“He will come back to me.”
“Wow,” “You are completely insane!”
“How do you think I got tied up?” She stops moving and smirks; I can’t help but to laugh at how stupid she is. Then I think about it; if I would have dropped Kara home and come in later, her plan might have worked. And that thought pisses me off even more.
“For someone who has so many stalker tendencies, you don’t know much,” I say, looking around the room, noticing her bag on the dresser.
“I'm not a st–stalker,” she sputters out, looking around, pulling on her wrist and trying to get free.
“Really, are you sure? Because I'm almost positive that this is the kind of thing a stalker does.” I open her purse, find her phone, and go to her text messages. Finding exactly what I'm looking for, I press call.
“What are you doing with my phone?” she yells. I take the blanket from the end of the bed and toss it over her, with a self-reminder to burn all the bedding when she leaves.
“Hi, Mr. Carlson. Jen is here at Trevor’s and is going to need you to come pick her up. Oh, and if she comes back again, I will be pressing charges for breaking and entering.”
“You fucking bitch! What the fuck is wrong with you? Are you crazy?” she screams, thrashing harder than before. I knew she wouldn’t like that; she’s a daddy’s girl all the way. Plus, her daddy pays for her school, and whatever else she needs, so his anger affects her bank account.
“I'm going to say this one last time, Jen. Trevor is mine, and if you insist on doing things like this, I will insist on making your life a living hell.”
“I'm going to tell everyone in town to stop coming to your store so that you’re forced out of business!” she yells.
“You can do that, and I'm sure some of your minions will listen; but that won’t change the fact that Trevor is mine.”
“He will be back. They all come back, eventually,” she says, making my anger skyrocket. I look around, seeing the scissors that I used this morning to cut a tag off a shirt laying on the dresser.
“What do you think about girls with bangs?” I ask, looking her over.
“What?”
“You know, bangs,” I say, making a slashing motion with my finger across my forehead.
“No one wears bangs,” she says, rolling her eyes.
“You have always been a trendsetter, right, Jen?”
“Are you out of your mind? You want to talk about hair and clothes? Fucking untie me!” she screeches. I pick the scissors up off the table, and walk to the bed. Jen’s eyes go wide, looking at me then the scissors in my hand. “Look, I'm sorry, okay? Please don’t kill me.” I can’t help the evil smile that slides into place; her eyes get huge, and I lift the scissors close to her, speaking very quietly.
