Page 46 of Trapped (Caged 2)


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“So, I guess we’re going to a wedding?”

“Yeah.”

“You know I’m going.”

My gaze flicked over to hers, and I knew there was no point in even starting the fight. I could probably have made the argument for her, and I wouldn’t have had much defense. I sighed loudly through my nose and shook my head a little.

Tria turned her head toward mine, and our lips met. I could still taste a hint of chocolate on her tongue as I gripped her with one hand and the branch with the other. The angle was awkward, and I had to tighten my grip around her waist to keep her from falling backwards.

More giggling. The sound went straight to my cock.

We broke away, and Tria’s eyes glistened in the fading light. She reached out and grazed her hand over my cheek.

“Time to go home?” she asked quietly.

I hoped that meant what I thought it meant.

I nodded, leaned in to press my lips against hers once more and then helped her out of the tree. I pulled her against me with my arm around her shoulders as we walked back up the trail to the car. Once inside, we held hands between the seats while I drove in silence.

We didn’t speak when I parked the car or when we walked up the stairs. I opened the door for her, and Tria walked in quietly with me at her heels. She stopped a few feet in, turned, and looked at me. I couldn’t read her expression, but I stopped and took a step back. It seemed as if I needed to give her some room.

As weird as it was, I didn’t know what to do next.

I hadn’t brought too many girls back to my place in the past. I usually got them to take me to theirs. Even when I had brought someone back here, we were usually practically fucking in the hallway before the door opened, and none of them ever actually made it to the bedroom.

This was different.

With the others, I really didn’t give a shit how it was going to turn out. We made sure we got each other off, and that was it. There wasn’t any pressure because I didn’t really plan on seeing any of them ever again.

I swallowed hard and tried to figure out my next step.

Thankfully, Tria’s next revelation removed the need for any strategy on my part.

“Liam?” she asked quietly. She clasped her hands behind her back as she stared down at the floor and shuffled her feet.

“Yeah?”

“I’m…uh…I’m not wearing any underwear.”

My throat went dry.

“None at all?”

“None at all.”

“Fuck me,” I whispered. I tried to swallow a few times as my eyes danced over the tight dress, and I realized it was true. The dress was too formfitting not to be showing some kind of panty lines. She was totally fucking bare under it. “All night?”

She giggled.

“Well, they aren’t in my purse!”

I wasn’t about to go looking for them. Actually, I couldn’t even really consider what may or may not have been in the Duffle of Doom—I was far too focused on Tria’s revelation.

I took a step toward her, and she took a step back.

“Don’t move,” I commanded with narrowed eyes, and she stopped. I stepped closer until I was only an inch away from her and then let my eyes travel all the way down her body—closely checking out the curves of the dress. Now that I knew what I was looking for—or rather, looking not to find—it was obvious.

Not knowing about it all night pissed me off a bit. It also made the moody little bastard about as ready to roll as he could be.

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