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Each stroke of his cock inside of me paired with his fingers between my legs was another push closer to the brink, the pleasure inside me reaching supernova status until I came around him with a scream. I shattered, walls fluttering around his member, pulling him deeper inside me until he was coming too, my name pouring from his lips. He wrapped his arms around me and we fell to the side, still connected as the aftershocks of our orgasms ran their course. It was a celebration, maybe the last true one we would ever have.
After we caught our breath, we pulled our clothes back on and headed into Lace Elm, retrieving our now much-needed dinner, libations, and even the bubble bath from the drugstore before heading back to our new home. Many of the candles had burned down to the wicks, but we still took our time to make our way through the darkened rooms and blow all the stragglers out.
Trevor and I ate, legs crossed, on the floor of the balcony under the stars, talking about our futures. He said I would decorate the entire house, it could all be exactly the way I wanted it, besides his office. We drank straight from the bottle, finishing the wine up as we both stood under the rainfall shower. We made love one more time under the curtain of falling water, and crawled into bed, exhausted and satisfied.
In a perfect world, it would have been the beginning of our lives together. A poignant and unforgettable night. But this was my life, and things were rarely perfect.
Chapter Four
Things started to progress after the first night at the Lace Elm house, and at first, it was nice. Normal for a couple our age. It took some time for it to start becoming bizarre.
We woke up the first morning stiff, mildly hungover, and starving. The lack of curtains meant the enormous windows let every iota of sunlight in, and we were forced awake at dawn. The air smelled like burnt wicks and campfire, but we were still riding high enough on the engagement night for none of the downsides to matter.
We took yet another shower, letting the hot water work away some of the tension in our heads, before dressing in last night’s clothes and heading back to Dallas. Trevor promised he had hired a house cleaner to come in and handle everything we had left behind, which was a relief because I certainly did not sign up for cleaning a nearly empty house, even if it did belong to me.
Wow, what a mind-blowing thought that the Lace Elm house wasmine.
I tried to daydream about how I would decorate everything on the drive back to town, and it worked for a while. The place all but screamed for light, airy, open decor. Beautiful simplicity. I was doing mental paint swatches when we began our descent down the two-lane road and into the winding forest, and it made my thoughts stutter. Seeing how deep the forest was, as if endless, made me unsettled, to say the least.
Even now, I’m not sure why it freaked me out as much as it did. Trevor had never given me, at that point, any reason to be frightened of him. He was a forward, passionate man that seemed to communicate best through touch, but there was never an air of overly pushy masculinity about him, and I would never say he inspired even a bit of fear.
On paper, living out in the middle of nowhere with Trevor should have been fine, but driving home that morning, a shiver of uncertainty that ran through me. We really were secluded.
“I’m just curious,” I said. “Why did you pick a house so far away?”
Trevor took a little longer to reply than I would have expected, but he said, “Are you kidding!? Did you see that view? It’s unmatchable. I had to have it.”
“Makes sense,” I responded, and it did, in a way. But even being relatively close to Dallas, Lace Elm felt like an entire state away. Or maybe even like an entire world.
I looked down at the ring on my finger, watching as it glittered in the patches of light that filtered through as we drove, and tried to stave off the spear of trepidation I was feeling. Hesitation would not serve me well with an entire wedding to plan and a household to run. I thought about all the work I had coming up, already scheduled, and how things would intersect. The places where I would need to make room. I was going to have a busy upcoming year.
I said as much to Trevor, almost offhandedly, but he didn’t take the comment as casually as I meant it. “We have to move in soon. I hired an interior designer, so just send him some inspiration pictures, and he’ll handle the rest. But everything needs to happen quickly. So the house doesn’t sit empty.”
I turned from the window to look at him. “I’ve got a lot of work this month, Trevor. I’ll try my best.”
I could tell he wanted to say more, from the way he wrapped his fingers on the steering wheel and continued to work his jaw. He and I rarely argued, and even when we did, it wasn’t about serious things. Probably because there weren’t many areas in our relationship where strife could pop up. As much as I hated to admit it, Trevor’s deep pockets smoothed a lot of things over. Money didn’t buy happiness, but it certainly made it more attainable.
I didn’t like the negativity I could see building up inside him, but I was almost afraid to ask what was really bothering him, because there was a good chance his answer could ruin the afterglow of our wonderful night together. Against my better judgment, I turned back to the window and kept quiet.
We were almost home when I felt Trevor’s fingers run under the hem of my shorts in the lightest caress.
“We’ve built up your online presence so much in the last year. Have you ever considered trying out the influencer lifestyle? Seems like you’d have a little more freedom.”
He wasn’t wrong. There were hundreds of messages sitting in my inbox offering me free clothes, shoes, jewelry, or even compensation to wear certain companies’ products and gush about them on my social media. It was tempting, but I had goals, and none of them involved spending all my time sitting around all day taking selfies. There were still a few things in my career I wanted to accomplish before I officially retired from performing.
I kept the peace when I answered Trevor, though, instead of antagonizing him over what could just be a passing attempt at conversation and not the heavy suggestion it felt like.
“I just don’t have the time. Or, frankly, the need to have a bunch of free stuff clogging up my space. It’s a nice thought, though.”
“Hm,” Trevor responded. “Just something to keep in mind, then.”
“Yeah,” I hedged, letting the subject die. “Something to keep in mind.”
The following month was organized chaos, to say the least.
I quickly realized that wedding plans were going to be put on hold until the Lace Elm house was finished and ready to move into. Trevor would not engage in anything wedding related, no matter how many venue ideas or theming plans I threw at him. Interior decorating, though, was another story.
The designer that Trevor had hired was named Leo, and it was remarkable the way he could take even the smallest, vaguest idea I had and turn it into something complete and realized. He must have cost a fortune to hire, but unlike a lot of frivolous things Trevor enjoyed, Leo was worth every penny. I could send the man a picture of a couch I liked, and he would send me back a mocked-up version that just so happened to be the exact design I was picturing in my mind. It was incredible.
