Between Us (all of us #1)

E I G H T E E N

T R E N T O N

Diesel knocked out soon after we smoked. I knew he would, I was counting on it.

The moment Roger came in, I lost it. Right when I thought she might have been coming to talk to me—right when I thought maybe I meant more to her than she claimed—he comes through the door, ruining things like he always does.

I'm pissed, and what makes it worse is that I don't even have a right to be. Sitting on the third step on the stair case, I stare down at my phone before my fingers fly across my keyboard.

Me: Come down stairs.

Aubree: No, are you kidding? Roger's home now, Trenton.

Aubree: We can't do this tonight.

Me: Come downstairs, now.

Me: Please.

I waited in the den, my knee bobbing in front of me serves as an outlet for my anger. I've never hated anyone before, but with Roger I come pretty close. I just don't get how someone so vile can manage to keep someone like her. Aubree is sweet and loyal—or she was until I came in and corrupted her. But you can't corrupt something that doesn't want to be corrupted, not even a little bit.

She came downstairs in loose pajama shorts and a tank top that I really wish I'd see more of around here instead of that damn cover-all robe.

The double doors shut behind her, but she doesn't sit down. She stands in front of me, arms crossed and clearly antsy enough to run back upstairs without warning. "What?"

My nostrils flare and I bite down hard on my jaw. What does she mean what? Like I didn't just listen to her moan for fifteen minutes while that asshole drove his fake apology into her.

"What was that about?" I speak in a hard tone, but still manage to keep my voice down.

"What are you talking about?"

"I saw the way you ran to the door when he got here. You're just going to forgive him after all that? After the way he treated both you and Diesel like dirt?"

"I wasn't running to the door, Trenton. It was just bad timing."

I cross my arms, my heel bouncing quicker. "I heard you up there. You fucked him."

"Are you really mad at me for having sex with my husband?" She sits down, finally.

"Yeah because he doesn't deserve to. He doesn't deserve a fucking thing from you, Aubree." I scoop my hair back with my hands and sit with my back flat to the couch.

"Would it make you feel better to know I thought of you the whole time?"

My eyes taper at her. "Bullshit."

"I did." She stares down at her hands, almost ashamed but not quite. "I imagined he was you the entire time. I felt you. I felt, us. It was amazing."

The tension leaves my face and I stare her over, noticing how her nipples have made themselves known through the thin grey top she's wearing. And as if her physical composure, her rosy cheeks, her glossy, licked lips and her hazy eyes that are locked on me aren't proof enough, I say, "Prove it."

"How?"

I widen my legs and pat my thigh, an invitation for her to sit on my lap. I don't even care that he just had his filthy hands on her, soon enough I'll wash it all away with my cum. I'll mark her in bites and hickeys, I'll mark her in me.

"I can't. You know I can't."

"Then I don't fucking believe you, Aubree. It's hearsay. Convince me that I'll make you sound just like that when it's my cock you're bouncing on."

"Trust me."

"With my life. Just tell me how it went." I swallow. "In your head. What did we do?"

She stares at me as the beginning of a smile leaves its traces on her face. Her hair frames her cheeks and a few strands fall over her eye as her head tips to the side.

I want to know every detail. I want her to map out every touch, every movement, every moan, and every beg. I've imagined it countless times in my head, but somehow it seems so much better coming from hers.

"Am I not worth the wait?"

"Of course. Fuck." It's no question. I wouldn't still be in this, torturing myself by hanging onto the thread of hope she leaves me with.

I reach for her face, my fingers gliding along her soft skin. Her eyes flutter shut and I bite my lip as the pads of my fingers trace the space just above her chin.

"Then you'll hold off until your graduation night. Just a few more days." She crawls toward me and I'm paralyzed by the sight of her on her hands and knees, her bedroom eyes penetrating me, lust radiating off of her in enchanting waves. "The real thing will be so much better."

I'm fucking convinced.

And then her lips crush mine and I can't control myself anymore. My hands go straight to her tits and her tongue burrows into my mouth, making me lose my breath for a second.

She grabs my hands, removing me from her and her absence from my grip is almost painful. "Goodnight."