The Infamous Ellen James(66)

My back arches as his gaze sweeps over my body, lighting every inch on fire. My breathing is uneven, fast, and gasping. Another rush of pleasure is building inside of me, tingling up my spine, and causing my muscles to contract, clenching him tight as another orgasm threatens to plow through me.

“You. Feel. So. Good. Perfect.” He moans into my mouth as his lips crash into mine, his tongue matching the thrusting rhythm of his cock. "That's it, baby. You are so tight. So wet. Just for me. I love being deep inside of you, feeling you…all of you."

“I'm so close. Come with me. Come. Now. Trent.” My body shudders wildly, my orgasm bursting through me and making me scream his name.

“Oh fuck!” Trent's growls as his spine straightens, his back arching with his thrusts, his hands clenching my hips as he empties himself inside of me. Marking me. Making me his.

"Best sex I've ever had at work," I hoarsely say to Trent while trying to catch my breath. I'm lying next to him, breathless and sated. My bones have turned into jelly, and I think I might have to call someone to bring a wheelchair to get me back to the ER.

"I hope it's the only sex you've had at work," he says as he glances over at me and smirks.

"This is definitely a first for me," I say, beaming at him.

Trent abruptly pulls me back over on top of him and kisses me passionately, his lips searing while his large muscular hands grasp my ass.

"I love you, Ellie. I love you so god damn much that I feel like I can't breathe sometimes," he whispers into my mouth while resting his forehead on mine. His eyes are fathomless, causing emotion to clog my throat. His gaze engulfs me, consuming me whole. His eyes are so expressive, so full of emotion. I can see the small gold flecks sprinkled throughout the ocean blue. When I look into his eyes, I feel like I've been blind for thirty years and can finally see the sun for the first time. Trent's eyes are my safe place, my home.

This man is everything.

I softly kiss his lips and fight the tears that are stinging my eyes, threatening to spill over. "I love you too, baby."

Trent crushes me to his chest and I relish in the strength and comfort of this wonderful man. In an instant, he took me from lusting over his cock to emotionally breaking my soul open and stealing my heart.

I spot the calendar hanging on the wall across from the small call room bed.

September.

I feel like time is slipping away. The past month and a half feels like it's passed by at warp speed. Forty more days and Trent Hamilton won't be in Charlotte anymore. Forty more days and I will be faced with the huge dilemma of…where do we go from here? In true Elle fashion, I do what I always do with difficult situations—I squash that shit down as far as I can, desperately trying to avoid it, avoid the mere idea of Trent walking away from me, leaving me in Charlotte, while he goes back to Seattle and lives his life.

Shit.

I know. I know you're thinking, Why are you being so frustrating? So utterly annoying? Why don't you just talk to him about it? I wish it were that easy. I really do. I wish I could just beg him to stay and not hold any sort of guilt for holding him back in a career he's worked his entire life to achieve.

Trent Hamilton is a trauma surgeon first and foremost. He's giving up so much of his life just to be in the position he is in right now. I'm not sure what Seattle is offering him. I know they want him back; I also know that they are one of the most renowned trauma surgery centers in the country. So now let me ask you this. How in the hell do I ask him to give up everything for a girl he's known all of two months? How can I do that and actually live with myself?

I can't and I won't. If Trent Hamilton stays in Charlotte, it needs to be on his own accord. I'm not going to beg him or make him feel guilty. I'm going to let him make that decision for himself, and I just hope I can survive the aftermath.





Chapter Twenty-Seven



“Never shun the strippers. You never know when you're going to have a shirt full of cranberry and vodka and need to borrow some clothing. The moral of this story is… Strippers are nice and you should go ahead and take an additional hundred bucks out of that ATM to tip them generously.”



In celebration of Tony's upcoming nuptials to his beautiful fiancée Rachel, Amy and I planned a fantastic bachelor party for him. We refused to take no for an answer and pretty much forced him and his beautiful bride-to-be to attend a night of shenanigans with us. I know he just proposed to her like a month ago and their wedding isn't for another six months, but we were just too damn excited to wait any longer!

We're driving around in a party bus decked with a stripper pole, neon flashing lights, an ungodly amount of alcohol, and of course, a few inflatable naked girls. This bus is filled with ten of our closest friends from work, including my wonderful man Trent. Seeing as we have now made our relationship "work official," I'm ecstatic to enjoy a night with him where we don't have to worry about prying, curious eyes trying to figure out our current status.