17 - Ten Tiny Breaths (Ten Tiny Breaths #1) Page 17

“I hate snakes. I hate snakes. Fuck! I hate snakes!” I repeat over and over again to no one and everyone. A hand smooths my hair. Not until my heart rate slows to a semi-normal range and I stop shaking am I able to focus on my surroundings.

On Trent’s furrowed brow and the flecks of turquoise in his irises.

I’m in his arms.

Naked and sitting on Trent’s lap, in his arms.

My heart rate ramps back up to a dangerous level as I appreciate this new situation. His shirt is soaked and covered in my shampoo. I can feel the warm skin of his forearms against my bare back and under my knees as he holds me tight to him. All vital body parts are completely covered from view with a towel, but I can’t be any more naked than I am at that moment.

Livie storms in, eyes blazing. “Who do you think you are, barging in here?” she screams, her face as red as my hair, looking ready to claw Trent’s face off.

“Trent. This is Trent.” I answer. “It’s okay, Livie. There’s … there’s a rattlesnake in the shower.” I shudder involuntarily. “Get Mia out of here before it eats her. And get Tanner here. Now Livie!”

Livie’s attention passes from me to Trent and back to me, drifting down to my bed. She doesn’t want to leave me, I can see that. But finally she decides something and nods. She closes the door behind her.

Trent pulls me tight against him until I feel his chest’s hard ridges pressed against my arm. “You okay?” he whispers, his mouth so close that his bottom lip grazes my ear. I shudder again.

“I’m fantastic,” I whisper, adding, “aside from almost dying.”

“I heard you screaming from next door. I thought someone was killing you.”

“Not someone. Something! Did you see it?” One arm flies out, gesturing toward the bathroom, while the other fusses to keep my towel up to cover my br**sts. “I was two seconds away from behind eaten alive!”

Now Trent starts to chuckle—a soft, beautiful sound that vibrates through my body and warms my core. “I think that’s Lenny. 2B’s pet snake. I saw a little bald man checking the bushes in the commons this morning, calling its name.”

“Pet?” I spit out the word as I sit up straight. “That man eater is someone’s pet? Isn’t there a law against owning rattlers?”

Trent’s blue eyes roam my face as he smirks, settling on my lips. “It’s a milk snake. From what I know, the only thing it’s going to eat is a mouse.” He’s so close to me now that his breath caresses my cheek. With my body pressed to him, I feel his heart beat hammering fast against my shoulder, rivaling my own. He can feel this too. It’s not just me. He lifts a hand to cup my chin. “No one’s going to hurt you, Kacey.”

I don’t know if it’s the stress of the situation, or this sizzling burn inside my belly that flares whenever Trent’s around, or an uncontainable internal beast repressed for too long, but this whole situation has gone from terrifying to freaking hot in a split second.

I can't help myself.

I crash into Trent’s mouth, my hand fisting the front of his shirt, snapping several buttons with no effort as I force myself onto him. There’s a second of resistance—just a second where his mouth and body doesn’t respond—but it quickly dissolves. His arm slides out from my knees to grip my side, scorching my bare skin. It’s him that deepens the kiss, slipping his tongue into my mouth, one hand working its way through my shampoo-coated hair, gripping a handful at the nap of my neck tightly. He forces my head back as his tongue connects with mine, his mouth sweet and fresh. He’s strong, that much I can sense. If I wanted to, I don’t think I could fight him off. But I don’t want to. Not one bit.

Without breaking his connection to my mouth, Trent somehow shifts me onto my back and now he’s hovering over me on my bed, our torsos flattened against each other, my inner thighs hugging his hips while his forearms keep his full weight off my body. I don’t know what’s happening, what I’m doing, what has taken over all rational thought, but I know I don’t want it to stop. Every fiber of my body is craving it.

Craving Trent.

I feel like I’ve come up for my first gasp of air after being under water for years.

Unfortunately, it does stop. Abruptly. He breaks free and pulls away, panting as he gazes down at me with an incredulous look. His eyes never leave mine, not to wander for even a second. If they did, he'd see that my towel has slid off and I’m lying underneath him, stark naked. Body and soul.

“This isn’t why I pulled you out of the shower,” he whispers.

I swallow, searching for my voice. The one I find is hoarse. “No, but it’s worked out rather well for you, hasn’t it?”

He gives me that lop-sided smile that makes my body heat up like someone’s taken a blowtorch to it. But then his eyes cool, searching my face. “Isn’t it exhausting?” The pad of his thumb strokes my neck softly.

“What?”

“Keeping people out.”

“I’m not,” I deny quickly, my voice faltering in betrayal as his words punch me in the gut. How can he see what I don’t want him to see, what I work so hard to conceal? He’s found a way in, that’s how. Like a trespasser, he’s invaded my space, breaching security and sliding in to take what I haven’t offered to him.

The fire he’s able to elicit in my body so easily still burns, only now I find the need to battle against the consuming flames. “I don’t want this. I don’t want you.” The words taste acrid in my mouth because I know I don’t mean them. I do want this. I do want you, Trent.

Trent crashes in to my mouth, and my treacherous body leans forward, exposing me for the liar that I am. But he keeps his hands on either side of my head now, clenching my pillow tightly as if he’s trying to maintain control. I, on the other hand, have lost all control, I realize, as my fingers slide under his shirt to claw at his back, as my legs wrap around him.

“You don’t want this, Kacey?” he growls in my ear, pressing his erection against me.

“No …” I whisper, my lips trailing his neck. Then I begin to laugh at myself, at my stubbornness. At how ridiculous I must look right now, my body writhing against his. That little bit of laugher is like a lifeline thrown out to me. I seize it and let it drag me back from the brink. Tearing my mouth from his neck, I growl, “Get out.”

He lays three more light kisses on my jawline and then softly grazes my cheek with his knuckles. “Okay, Kacey.” He climbs off me and stands. I inhale sharply as his eyes draw in the length of my body with a hungry, dark look. It only lasts a second, but it unleashes a need deep in my lower belly. He turns around and heads to the door. “I’ll take the heat for the doors from Tanner.”

“Doors?” Plural?

He still hasn’t turned around. “Yeah. Your front door and the bathroom door. If he’s going to boot someone out, I’ll make sure it’s me.”

And then he’s gone.

Dammit! That guy is the dictionary definition of a contradiction. He skates between nice guy and bad boy so fluidly, I never seem to catch the transition. It would be easier if he was a pigheaded player, but here he is, breaking down doors to save me from snakes. I, on the other hand, go from bitch to sexual attacker and back to bitch in three heart beats and he just flashes those damn dimples. I guess I’m not much better in terms of a contradiction.

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