Only Trick (26 page)

She leans forward and rests her hand on my arm. “You should have told me, and you’re fine because Trick had a gun with him.”

“I don’t think the gun mattered. They would have left me alone even if he wouldn’t have had a gun.” I speak the words, but I have yet to one hundred percent convince myself.

“I think I love him too.” She pats my arm, a coy smile tugging at her lips. “Steven wouldn’t have known what to do in that same situation. He might have run them over with his canary mobile, but even that wouldn’t be too likely. The impact would leave a dent.”

“Oh, Nana! Steven’s not a bad guy.”

“I know, but the more your father liked him the less I did. We have to be suspicious of anyone your father likes too much.”

“You know it was Steven’s dad, not really Steven.”

She tips the wine bottle toward her glass only to discover that it’s empty. “Humpf. Well you know what they say, the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

I sigh. “Then what does that say about me?”

“It says you’re your mother’s daughter, and believe it or not when she met your father he was a better man. Lucy had impeccable taste in everything. Calvin didn’t deserve her, but she made him a better man, until …” She swallows back uncharacteristic emotion. Nana is a rock, but my mother, Lucille, is an unprotected part of her heart that always elicits a flicker of raw emotion in her eyes.

“Until me,” I whisper.

Nana reaches across the table, and grabbing both of my hands she squeezes them tightly. “She chose you, Darby … we all did.”

I let a tear escape. “Is it crazy to miss someone you never knew?”

She reaches up, catching my tear with her thumb. “You know her. I swear she gave you her soul when she died. You’re so kind, loving, and forgiving. It’s why despite the million reasons your father’s given you to disown him, you still love him. That’s Lucy in you. I adore you, Darby, and I think it’s beautiful the way you love my Lucy, because she sure loved you. For nine months, you owned her heart.”

And then she gave me her last heartbeat as I took my first breath.

I blink back more tears. “Thank you, Nana, for giving me a mother’s love.”

She stands, walks around the table, and hugs me to her chest.

T
here must be
a set amount of time that justifies my missing Trick—desperately missing him. It’s probably longer than five days, and if I’m honest with myself, I started to feel it within twenty-four hours of his departure. Pathetic? Yes, but so what.

“Miss me, sexy?”

I sneak into an empty exam room and lean against the door, pressing my phone to my ear, eyes closed. Just for a few moments, I
need
to be seduced by his voice. “I’m a basket case,
and
don’t you dare gloat. Just tell me you miss me even half as much as I miss you.”

He chuckles and my nipples wake up and scream to my vagina, “Trick’s on the phone!” My vagina blushes, a slow drool flows across her lips. “Missing you is worse than rehab. I’ve got the shakes; I need my Darby fix so fucking bad.”

A knock at the door shakes me from my dreamy state. I crack it open.

“Sorry, I didn’t know this room was occupied.” Jade looks askance at me. “What patient do you have?”

“Nobody, I’m on the phone … with a … pharmacist.”

“Sorry, I need the room and you have sutures waiting in room two.”

I smile against gritted teeth. “One minute, give me one minute.”

Jade rolls her eyes. “Fine. One minute.”

Bringing the phone back to my ear, I sigh.

“You have to go,” Trick says.

“Yes, unfortunately.”

“I need to get back to work anyway. The porn stars are coming back to the set.”

“You’re not funny.”

“I’m a little funny.”

“Bye.”

“Later.”

I open the door and Jade stumbles toward my feet. “Were you eavesdropping?”

She rights her step with a quick recovery. “No, I was just getting ready to open the door and tell you your minute’s up just as you opened it.”

I look at my watch. “I still have thirty seconds.” I scowl at her. “You … were
eavesdropping.
”

“Was that Patrick?” She follows me out the door and to the nurses’ station like a yippie little dog.

“I told you I was talking to a pharmacist.” I grab the chart and start to read over it.

She sidles next to me, nudging me with her shoulder. “I know what you
told
me; now I’m asking for the truth.”

Keeping my head down, I grin. “Oh, Jade, Jade, Jade … if only it were any of your business.”

“Oh come on, Darby! Throw me a bone.”

I slide the chart over to her. “Okay, Mr. Howard, room four. Possible fractured pelvis … if I remember correctly that’s a bone. Why don’t you get me an X-ray?”

She sticks out her tongue. A couple of the other nurses snicker. “You’re no fun.”

I head toward sutures in two. “Oh, I’m a barrel of fun; you’ve just never taken the time to get to know my fun side.”

This amazing thing has happened since I met Trick. My neediness for acceptance—inclusion—has started to vanish. I don’t mean it in a gruff or snobby way; I’d love to be friends with Jade outside of work, but I don’t crave it like I did every day of my life before I met him. Trick … he’s my best friend. He gave me that before he stole my heart. Then again, I don’t think he really stole my heart. I think I gave it to him when I still thought he was Grady’s. It’s a testament of what his friendship means to me—everything.

*

Day one million
without trick.
Aka day 10.
My heart keeps different time. The good news: I survived the political fundraiser tonight alone. It helped that Rachel’s back in New York and my father was too busy to chat about my personal life. The bad news: I have the day off tomorrow and little to take my mind off Trick.

I flip through the channels, read a few chapters in my book, and call it a night. No need to stay awake any longer when Trick awaits in my dreams. In the darkness of night I see him with such vividness—intense blazing eyes and a strong jaw covered in a thick stubble. I rub my hands over it and his lips twitch, my twitch. It’s the smallest smirk; the one that says he knows how much I love everything about him. I smell him; it’s soap, a rugged sandalwood and pine cologne and those pheromones I could recognize in a room full of men with my eyes closed. My nose nuzzles into his neck; his hands thread through my hair, clenching, bringing me to him. God, I love the way he always fists my hair like I’m his lifeline.

“Trick …”

“I need my Darby fix.”

My heart leaps into my throat capturing my breath while I open my eyes because that voice … it’s not in my dream.

He’s here!

I put my palms on that sexy stubble with slow apprehension, like he could vanish under my touch. The street light filtering through my sheer curtains illuminates life in those amazing eyes. “You’re here.”

“I’m here.” He kisses me and it’s a breath of air filling my lungs, feeding my heart, and awakening every cell in my body.

That taste, it’s a quenching drink of water with a splash of mint. A warm inviting tongue greets mine with slow but firm strokes—a controlled desperation. Releasing my lips he kisses my cheek while cradling my face. I pull back, just to stare at him. My eyes blink in a rapid flutter.

He gives me what he doesn’t give anyone else … that roguish grin with perfect white teeth while he shrugs off his shirt. The beautiful terrain of muscles and tattoos indulge my eyes. Then he pushes down his jeans and boxer briefs, grin growing as I pull my eyes away from
him
to his eyes … Dear God, he’s his own finest masterpiece. I don’t care, he can wear that cocky grin all he wants. After ten days I’m going to unabashedly gawk at every inch of him.

A statue, he stands at the edge of my bed. I drag my drunken gaze back to his eyes again. “Miss me, sexy?”

I dig my teeth into my lower lip to contain my exuberance while I give him a slow nod. He reaches down and pulls my T-shirt over my head. I lie back. He pulls off my panties and kisses a slow trail up my body; my eyelids leaden from his touch.

“Darby …” he whispers over my lips.

I open my eyes and press my palms to his face.

“I love you.” He takes my right leg and pulls it up as he sinks into me.

I fight to keep my eyes open as my breath catches. “I love you too … so damn much.” I breathe out, pulling his face to mine, bending my other knee, and allowing his body to completely claim mine.

*

Brrr …

I haven’t even thought about turning on the furnace yet because summer is not over. However, fall has made a hail mary and landed two surprisingly cold days into the end of summer. Last night it fell into the forties with rain and gusty winds and now my place is
freezing
! Trick’s passed out, and as much as it kills me to leave his warm, naked body, I have to get the heat going in this place just to take the chill off.

“Eek!” The icy floor shocks my toasty toes. Making a mad dash for the thermostat in the hall, I wrap a chenille throw around my naked body. Flipping on the heat, I scurry on the balls of my feet back to the bedroom. An amused face propped up on a tattooed arm greets me.

“What are you doing?” He lifts the covers as I sprint the rest of the way, tossing the throw to the floor and leaping into bed.

I bear hug his warm body, cold nose nuzzled in his neck. “I can’t believe I have to turn on my furnace, but it’s a cool sixty degrees in here.”

He kisses the top of my head. “You seemed plenty warm last night. In fact, I think you were sweating.”

I giggle, kissing my way down his chest under the covers. “I was just giving you your Darby fix.”

He lifts the covers, tilting his chin to look down at me. “And what are you doing now?” That voice is an acoustic vibrator; it makes every conversation foreplay for me.

I inch my way down, kissing below his navel then licking along the tip of his erection. His hips jerk up. I grin. “Now I’m getting my Trick fix.”

He moans as I take him into my mouth. His hands fist my hair and the covers fall back over my head, leaving me in a darkness of pleasure. This has never been my thing … until Trick. Everything about him is officially
my thing
.

Everything
about him leaves me in the most incredible sensory overload. I’m so drunk on him. He moans and tugs at my hair, driving me insane with need. Trick unleashes some untamed part of myself … I could fucking devour him.

“Darby … stop …”

Not happening
.

I feel the conflict in his grip on my hair. He starts to pull me away, but his hips pulse toward me, begging for more.

“Fuck … Darby … I-I’m … serious …”

I ghost my hand over his hip and slide it under his ass, digging my fingers into his tight muscles. For just a few minutes I want to control his body the way he does mine. I want to feel him lose his mind, helpless to my touch.

“Shit … Darby!” His body goes rigid as I swallow every last drop of his salty essence.

My trip back up his body is just as leisurely as it was going down. Best. Trick. Fix. Ever!