Straddling the Line(29)
Trevor cast a glance at Haven. “You are?”
Haven looked just as surprised. “I am?”
“You are. I just decided. You’re saying yes, aren’t you?”
“I . . . yes.”
“Good,” Alicia said. “I’ll call you with details.”
Trevor liked the smile on Haven’s face. It’d be good for her to make some friends out here, rather than hanging out with him all the time. And he liked Alicia and Liz.
After they visited a while longer, they said their thanks and left.
“Do you have a game tomorrow?” Haven asked when they got in the car.
“No. It’s an off day.”
“I see.”
“Why?”
“Just asking.”
“Did you want to spend some time on the interview?”
“Yes.”
He got the idea there was something else on her mind besides just scheduling interview time tomorrow. “What else, Haven?”
She half turned to face him. “There’s nothing else. Just work.”
Somehow, he knew there’d been more. She’d gone quiet, as if she were thinking hard about something.
They were both silent for the rest of the drive. Once they were inside, Haven started toward her wing of the house.
“I’m heading up to bed,” she said, hardly looking at him. “See you in the morning, Trevor.”
“Haven.”
She stopped. Looked up at him. “Yes?”
“Is there something you want to talk about?”
She paused for a few seconds before answering. “Not tonight. See you in the morning, Trevor.”
He stood at the entryway, watching her. “Okay.”
He could have pressed it with her, could have poured her a drink and they could have gone outside. Maybe he could have drawn out of her what she was so pensive about.
But he didn’t want to push, and they had time. So he’d let it go.
But he sure as hell wanted to know what was on her mind.
NINE
HAVEN WENT UPSTAIRS AND CLOSED HER DOOR, THEN got ready for bed.
Though she didn’t know why. She was restless and not at all tired, still keyed up after the party—after the conversation she’d had with Alicia and Liz about Trevor.
She sat in bed and turned on the television, then immediately turned it back off.
She wandered to the window, staring out over the sky. Her gaze was drawn to the pool area. She could take a swim. The pool was heated. There was a hot tub down there, too. Maybe she’d pour a glass of wine and sit in the hot tub. That would relax her a little and then she might be able to sleep.
But then she caught sight of Trevor, beer in hand, coming outside to take a seat on one of the chaises. He sat away from the deck, near the pool house storage area. She could barely see him, so she shifted to the far window to get a better view.
She should mind her own damn business and quit peeping out the window like a damn stalker. He probably just wanted some alone time to think.
But for some reason, she couldn’t walk away from the window. She could go down there and have a drink with him, but being near him was disconcerting, and her thoughts about him were confusing enough at the moment. It was best to just—
Just what? Hang out here and observe from the window?
She was a moron. A moron who wasn’t moving away from the window.
For the longest time, he didn’t move at all. He’d set his beer down on the table next to him.
Maybe he was sleeping. And she shouldn’t be watching him.
She started to turn away, except right then he moved his hand between his legs. Frozen in place, she couldn’t seem to move when he grabbed what had to be his cock. Even though he touched himself over his shorts, her body instantly tightened. Her nipples beaded against her thin tank top and she reached up to cup her breast, using her fingers to strum across her nipples.
When Trevor slid his hand inside his shorts, her breathing quickened.
Was he really going to do that outside? Where anyone could see him? Where she could see him? Though she supposed no one else could watch. He was secluded, the chaise in the shadows against the wall of the deck. The only one watching was her, and nothing could tear her away from the glorious sight of his hand moving inside his shorts.
She pulled her tank top down, exposing her breasts, rubbing over her nipples with abandon, wishing she could feel Trevor’s large, rough hands on her skin. Her pussy quivered, and she slid her hands over her sex, massaging the ache, feeling the wetness that had seeped through.
She needed sex. It had been too long, and the sight of a hot, supermasculine man like Trevor getting himself off turned her on in the worst way. Or maybe the best way, because she quivered everywhere.
She tucked her hand inside her panties, reveling in the dampness of her sex. She felt swollen, achy, and so ready for a mind-blowing orgasm that she hovered on the brink of marching downstairs and climbing on top of Trevor’s cock, demanding he be the one to give it to her.