Just Friends (14 page)

Dipping his tongue into the warmth of her
mouth, he greedily sampled the unfamiliar flavor of the sweet
depths, devouring her lips like a man deprived of the basic
sustenance necessary for survival. She opened wider, kissing him
back with an equal amount of enthusiasm and relish.

Her fingers raked across his scalp and sent a
line of shivers dashing down his spine. Trenton’s left hand clamped
around her like a vise, crushing her into his hard chest. Slipping
his other hand under her dress, he captured the slender piece of
fabric that held the thong together. He brushed his thumb across
the little bow and gave an experimental tug.

Alannah moaned again and he kissed her
harder, curling his fingers around the thin strip of cloth. He
wanted to see it. He wanted to drag it down her thighs with his
teeth. Raging hunger charged through him, his only thought to tear
off the flimsy barrier and assuage the urgent, unstoppable need
that had taken him to the brink of insanity over the past six
weeks.

The devil on his shoulder urged him to go for
it. The angel on the other shoulder warned she wasn’t in her right
mind.

Alas, common sense prevailed. She was drunk.
She didn’t know what she was doing.

Trenton severed contact with her mouth and
drew in a harsh, painful breath.

“Don’t stop,” Alannah whimpered.

She leaned in to re-establish the kiss, and
he pushed her off his lap. She fell backward onto the bed with her
legs wide open, and he pinned her hands above her head, careful not
to press his hips against hers, no matter how badly he craved the
contact.

“Why’d you stop?” she moaned, making it
difficult for him to be a decent human being.

“Listen to me:
you’re drunk
. I’m going
to leave you alone now, so you can sleep this off.”

He jumped up quickly and stumbled backward
off the bed so she couldn’t grab him again.

“No, wait.” Alannah stretched a hand. “Don’t
go. Don’t leave me alone.”

She looked so pitiful lying there, hair
splayed out on the sheets like a high crown of red flames, her eyes
at half-mast in her drunken state.

Breathing was difficult for Trenton, coming
in short, arduous spurts. Whether from the physical exertion of
fighting her or from fighting his body, he couldn’t be sure.

Keeping ironclad control on his voice,
Trenton said, “If I stay, you have to behave yourself.”

“I will.”

“Promise me,” he said in a hard tone.

“I promise. I pinky promise.” She held up the
little finger of her right hand.

Trenton took a few more deep breaths and ran
shaky fingers over his head. If she attacked him again, he was
getting the hell out of there.

Against his better judgment, he eased onto
the bed, keeping an eye on Alannah in case she made any sudden
moves.

“Thank you,” she murmured. She curled up next
to him and placed her head on his chest.

Trenton ran a hand over his face and breathed
easier. He fished his public phone out of his pocket and turned it
off. That way the girl who’d caught his hat at The Underground,
whom he’d planned to see later, wouldn’t disturb them if she called
to check his whereabouts.

“Trenton?”

He tensed. He thought she’d fallen asleep.
“Yeah?”

“Do you think I’m pretty?” Her voice wobbled,
the question pitched in hurt. What had prompted her to ask such a
thing?

Pretty didn’t begin to describe her. Such a
paltry word was insufficient, because he didn’t find only her
exterior appealing. She was lovely on the inside, too. Alannah was
the only woman outside of family who ever gave him any gifts of
substance. Other women lamented about what to give a man who had
everything and then offered him sex—something he could have anyway,
anytime, almost anywhere.

Alannah, on the other hand, put thought into
her gifts. Like the engraved handcrafted violin stand she’d had
created for his birthday once. “Now you can put your dad’s violin
on display,” she’d said. For years he’d kept his father’s
instrument protected in its case, but now it held a place of
prominence in his music room, where he could see it every time he
practiced.

“Of course.” He stroked her hair, smoothing
the strands with a careful, tender touch. “You’re the most
beautiful woman I know.”

That seemed to satisfy her. She melted
against him and flung an arm across his chest, as if to prevent his
escape when she fell into deep sleep. Soon her gentle snoring could
be heard.

Hopefully he could finally get some sleep,
too. Trenton turned off the lamp and relaxed into the pillows, yet
he couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that he was lying in bed
with Alannah. He shouldn’t be so aroused, but the more he thought
about the current situation, the more his body betrayed him. She
fit against him perfectly, her pliable body tucked into his side
like a rib. Like she belonged there.

Luckily they were fully clothed, because the
way he was feeling right now, he might need to say a prayer that he
didn’t wake up inside her tomorrow like some kind of perverted
rapist.

I’m going to hell.

He eased into a more comfortable position,
careful not to disrupt her sleep, and let out a little sigh.

Alannah really was beautiful. And soft. She
said he smelled good, but she smelled good, too. Trenton lifted a
segment of her hair and sniffed. Oranges this time. He liked it as
much as the honeysuckle.

She shifted and flung a leg over his, sending
ripples of arousal coursing through his stomach. Through the little
light that penetrated the room, he saw the hem of her dress had
hiked up even further onto her hip.

He groaned, dragging his eyes away from her
shapely thigh and the curve of her bottom. His pelvis tightened and
he closed his eyes, while his body throbbed and pressure built in
his groin. Silently, he begged sleep to overtake him.

His out-of-control libido eventually
normalized, and Trenton threw his other arm across Alannah so she
was wrapped securely in his embrace. This felt right. Comfortable.
In a way he never experienced with other women.

Gradually he relaxed and his heart rate
dropped. His eyelids became heavy and he closed them. And finally,
thankfully, fell asleep.

She would never drink again.
Never ever.

Alannah put a hand to her throbbing head and
squinted in protest at the morning light. Fuzzy memories of the
night before came back. She’d had more to drink than usual, and it
had been a bad idea for sure. She vaguely remembered Trenton
getting her into bed, during which she’d proceeded to molest
him.

With a groan, she rolled her face into the
pillow.

It smelled like him, a musky, manly scent
that had her sighing internally and made her breasts tingle.

Then she remembered how she’d kissed him and
begged him to stay the night with her. Could she be anymore
pathetic? At least when she’d told him she loved him he probably
didn’t suspect the depth of emotion behind the words. Well, she
hoped he didn’t.

Alannah rolled out of his scent and onto her
back, wishing she could escape the memory of her embarrassing
behavior. Working her tongue around her dry, cottony mouth, she
grimaced.
Gross.

She floundered out of bed, arms flailing when
a bout of dizziness made the room spin. She made her way across the
floor, but minor nausea invaded her stomach and stopped her at the
door of the bathroom. Clutching the doorframe, she steadied herself
for what could have been long seconds or even a few minutes, before
shuffling forward with careful, tentative steps. She turned on the
light and winced, her head exploding into a crescendo of pain as if
a percussionist had crashed his cymbals together inside her skull.
She stumbled toward the sink and squinted at her reflection.

She looked like crap. Creases on her cheek.
Smudged lipstick. Bloodshot eyes. Messy hair. Groaning again,
Alannah hid her face with her hands. What must Trenton think of
her?

After scrubbing her face clean of makeup,
Alannah brushed her teeth and changed into a big T-shirt and black
leggings. She popped some ibuprofen and made the trip down to the
first floor to let Angel out the back to do her business.

Alannah was in the kitchen sipping ginger tea
and nibbling saltine crackers, Angel eating near her slippered
feet, when the doorbell rang. She frowned, wondering who in the
world could be bothering her on a Sunday morning without calling
first. She padded to the front door with the Yorkie trailing behind
her.

She opened the door and frowned when she saw
a Hispanic woman wearing medical scrubs and a pleasant smile, curly
black hair held back from her face with a headband.

“Good morning, are you…” She consulted a
clipboard. “Alannah Bailey?”

“Yes,” Alannah answered cautiously.

“Good morning!” The young woman had an
annoyingly chipper voice. “I’m Selena, with I.V. Nurse.”

“I.V. Nurse? I’m not sick.” Alannah looked
past her to the unmarked white van in the driveway. “What is this
about?”

The young woman smiled. “We’re not dispatched
to people who are sick. Our mobile service is for customers who
suffer from…hangovers.” She whispered the last word.

“How did you know—” The answer to the
incomplete question came to her right away. Despite her
relationship with the Johnsons and an intimate knowledge of their
lifestyle, there were still moments when she was amazed at the
services the rich procured, such as this one, which she’d never
even heard of. But it smacked of being the kind of thing people of
their ilk saw as a necessity. “Could you tell me who set up this
appointment?” she asked, though she already knew the answer.

“Certainly. Mr. Trenton Johnson sent us.”
Selena didn’t need to consult her clipboard to remember that name,
and she said it with pride, honored to be dispatched at his
request. “He reserved our top service for you.”

Alannah folded her arms over her chest. “Is
that right?”

“Yes. The call was made this morning. Give me
a few minutes, and I’ll go back to the van—”

“Excuse me, but what exactly is the service?”
Curiosity got the best of her.

Selena launched into what sounded like
standard company spiel in an upbeat, perky voice. “Dehydration
causes some of the symptoms you’re experiencing. Our specially
formulated elixir hydrates you with a nutritious mixture of
anti-inflammation and anti-nausea vitamins, minerals, and medicine.
In no time at all, you’ll feel much better.”

“Really? Well, Selena, I’m sure your hangover
remedy is wonderful, but I’ll pass.”

The young woman’s confident smile faltered.
“Ms. Bailey, Mr. Johnson has reserved our very best service for
you, which includes a Vitamin B12 booster to help your energy
levels. It’s completely safe and the entire session only lasts
about forty-five minutes.”

“I’m not interested. And please pass on a
message to Mr. Johnson. Tell him he no longer has to look out for
me. I’m a grown woman and he can stop treating me like a child who
needs to be protected.” She made to slam the door, but then changed
her mind and added, “And tell him to go to hell.”

Then, with a tight smile, she slammed the
door.

****

Trenton pulled his Range Rover to a squealing
halt in front of Alannah’s garage. The light at the second-floor
window disappeared when the curtains in her bedroom closed
abruptly. So she knew he had arrived.

He marched up to the front door and let
himself in with his key. He almost tripped over Angel, who skidded
toward him with the zest and speed of a much bigger dog. She barked
and growled, ever protective of the homestead the way a lion was
its pride. He stepped over his tiny black and brown adversary and
stomped up the stairs. One day he was going to deal with that damn
dog, but today was not the day. He had to deal with her hardheaded
mistress first.

Alannah knew he was coming, so he flung open
the door without knocking, and was unprepared for the sight before
him. She stood in the middle of the room wearing a thin white robe.
Her long hair had shrunk up into waves around her shoulders, and
the room smelled of apple-scented shower gel from the open doorway
of the bathroom.

His entire body tightened as his gaze
encompassed her pert little breasts and full hips beneath the robe.
Was she naked under there?

Alannah extended an open palm to him. “Give
me my keys.”

Trenton snapped out of the temporary
hypnosis. “What for?”

“Because I want them.”

“You going to give me mine?”

She marched over to her purse on the dresser,
extracted the keys to the Maserati, the Range Rover, and his condo
keycard, and held them out to him.

Trenton crossed his arms over his chest. He
was not giving up her keys and had no intention of taking his. “Why
didn’t you use the I.V. Nurse?” The company had called to say
Alannah canceled the service, and by the guarded tone of the
conversation, he suspected his friend had been a difficult
customer.

She tossed the keys onto the dresser. What
was she so upset about? If anyone should be upset, it was him.

“I didn’t need their services. I got some
sleep and took a nice, warm shower and I feel perfectly fine. You
wasted your time and money. Did they relay my message?”

“What message?”

“The one where I said you could go to hell?
No, probably not. They wouldn’t want to upset Mr. Trenton Johnson.”
She rolled her eyes.

“I don’t know what your problem is, but your
attitude is starting to piss me off. I’ve been with Cyrus all day
entertaining clients. First at the country club, then lunch, then a
tour of our offices, then dinner. You’re not used to drinking that
much, and since I was
working
, I wanted to make sure you
were okay.”