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Trenton snorted but didn’t say anything, and I wondered if he was thinking the same thing I was—that if he’d left the format ofSing Battlealone, he wouldn’t be so stressed. It was an unfair thought, because I had no idea how much work Evan had done on previous seasons. Maybe this was the status quo.
As we walked to the car, Trenton put his hand on the small of my back, and I shivered. His response was to draw me close. “Are you cold?”
It was in the midfifties—chilly by LA standards—but that wasn’t the cause. It was being there with him. He’d invited me into his life, and I wanted more. Our time together these past few days in the show’s absence had been perfect, and I didn’t want it to end.
I found myself in a situation similar to when I’d first met him, but while I’d been timid and unsure of myself then, I felt only heady anticipation now.
He reached for the passenger side door handle, and I put a hand on his arm. With a questioning look, he paused.
I swallowed. “Do you want to go back to your place?”
His eyes darkened, and he pulled me against him. “I thought you’d never ask.”
The ride to his house seemed to take twice as long as usual. He laced his fingers through mine and absently rubbed his thumb on the back of my hand. The slight contact was enough to make my pulse race.
Trenton had me on my back against his front door as soon as it was shut, reminding me of our first night together in the hotel. Something felt different, though, and I realized that although his hands and mouth physically felt as good as they had the first time, it was my emotions that were different. I hadn’t known him then, but I’d grown to know how wonderful and caring he was, how he’d put his whole life on pause to help me achieve my goal of winningSing Battle.
I yanked on his shirt. After his thumb caressed my hand the entire car ride, I wanted nothing more than to feel his skin against mine—all of it. Instead of letting me undress him, he hooked his arm under my knees and lifted me.Oh my. Yes, please.I stared into his eyes as he carried me to his bedroom, and I knew that he was feeling the same thing I was.
This wasn’t just some one-night stand. This was more.
He laid me on the bed and slipped off my shoes before toeing off his own and joining me. We kissed lazily, as if we had all the time in the world. For that night, we did. But soon, the show—no. I didn’t want to think about anything but the present moment. Hell, I didn’t want to think at all. I simply wanted to give in to my feelings, both physically and emotionally.
I surrendered myself to it, to him, letting my emotions run the show. For a few moments, we were content to let our mouths lazily explore one another’s. Then our kisses became more insistent, and again, I tugged on his shirt. This time, he allowed me to pull it over his head. I ran my hands down his chest, tracing every groove of his ab muscles. He closed his eyes, and his body tensed, making his muscles even more defined. Trenton was the total package—gorgeous, talented, funny, kind… I could have gone on and on with the adjectives. His celebrity status meant nothing to me—it was the man beneath the fame that I had fallen for.
How did this happen?I’d come out to LA to start my career as a musician, not to—don’t think. Just feel.
I scooted back so I could sit up and pulled my shirt over my head, tossing it on the floor. Then I tugged at the button on his jeans as he reached behind me to unclip my bra. When my breasts were freed, he palmed them then brought one nipple into his mouth. I arched my back in response to the pleasure. He exhaled heavily, enjoying my reaction.
His hand found my jeans button, and I tugged his jeans down his thighs. He moved down, licked me through my panties, then moved the fabric aside so he could suckle my core. My hips bucked, and he easily slipped one finger inside. I was so wet. But I didn’t want to come like this.
I pushed his shoulders. “I want you inside me. I want to be able to see you.”
He met my gaze, his own expression so full of emotion I couldn’t interpret. He tugged my panties off and shed his boxers. After sheathing himself with a condom, he lay on his back and pulled me over him. “You take control.”
With anyone else, I might have been shy and timid, but with him, I felt powerful and sexy, and I knew that had been his intention.Mission accomplished.
I lowered myself onto him slowly, and he hissed out a breath as he gripped my hips. I gasped and closed my eyes so I could focus on the sensation of him pulsing inside me. When I opened them, he smiled up at me. “I love how your hair covers your breasts. Your crazy fucking hair.”
My crazy fucking hair…everything about the situation was crazy, but I was done analyzing it. I just wanted to be in the moment.
I started moving, increasing my rhythm. One of his hands went to my clit, and the other still gripped my hip. As my body started to shudder, he sat up a little so he could wrap his arms around me. “I’ve got you, baby.”
Only at the sound of his voice did my body let go.
