Awakening Her Racy Passion [Racy Nights 9] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) by Tara Rose

forefront of his mind. He simply wouldn’t allow anything else to happen. He had enough self-control to handle this.
    Sure. Just keep telling yourself that.
    She parked her car out front and Trent watched her walk toward him, then he opened the front door and listened. Nothing. Wyatt had left the small table lamp on, just inside the door, like he did every night. He motioned Ria inside. “Do you want anything to drink?”
    “No. Thanks, though.”
    “Have a seat. I’m going to get a beer, if you don’t mind.”
    “Not at all.”
    He really didn’t need to drink beer at almost one in the morning, but he did need a few seconds to collect his thoughts. As he opened the fridge, he hoped the blast of cold air would tamp down his raging hormones, but no such luck. All it did was force up an image of her nipples, taut from the cold, straining against the front of her sweater.
    On the heels of that thought, he imagined himself licking her taut nipples until they were wet as well, and then he pictured himself fondling her breasts. He’d never seen her naked, but she wore her clothing tight enough to let his imagination run wild. It was obvious she had nice tits. And she had a firm, round ass that he would love to paddle until it was red, and then fuck it, slowly, with one hand teasing her clit until she came more times than she could count.
    Christ on a cracker. He was in big fucking trouble here.

Chapter Seven
     
    After Trent adjusted his dick, he walked into the living room, hoping she didn’t glance at his crotch, and then took a seat at the opposite end of the sofa. He almost groaned as she took off her sneakers and curled her legs underneath her body. He loved that gesture. It was so innocent yet also flirtatious. He had no idea why it had that effect on him. He only knew it drove him wild.
    “I meant to ask you something earlier,” she said. “Who was the paramedic with you Saturday night? I can’t remember his name and it’s been bugging me.”
    Trent sighed. Talking about Paul should deflate his dick quite readily. “Paul Wakefield.”
    She snapped her fingers. “Oh, right. I remember him now, but I never really knew him that well.”
    “I wish they hadn’t partnered me with such a tight-ass. He hates all things BDSM. He thinks we’re all going to hell in a hand basket.”
    “Half the town believes that.”
    “I know.”
    “Do you all still think there’s anything to worry about? I mean, no one bothered Maddox but Bernie and a few of his cronies, right?”
    “That’s what I remember from when I lived here before, And Wyatt said the same people from Paul’s church and the Baptist church occasionally march up and down Birch Lane in front of Maddox’s house holding signs, but that’s all they do.”
    “Bernie might be in jail, but his supporters aren’t. I’d hate to see anything happen to Maddox’s club.”
    “Don’t you worry about Maddox and his club. With Zach Kincaid as our mayor now, Ellis and Rafe both working for the city, and the three detectives as regulars at the club, I don’t think we have to worry.”
    “And don’t forget about Chase Taylor. He works for the city as well.”
    “That’s true. And Marisol works in the court system.” She’d opened up the perfect segue herself. Trent wondered if she realized it, or if it had been unintentional?
    “I guess we should talk about that. About Marisol, I mean.”
    “Only if you still want to.”
    She shifted her weight and gave him a curious stare. “I need to ask you something first. I want to understand why you want to help me with this.”
    Trent took a long sip of his beer. Why indeed? He should just tell her. But if he did, it might make her uncomfortable, or at least conflicted about her date later that night. But she wasn’t stupid or blind. Surely she’d seen the way he’d been looking at her since Saturday night. Then again, even if she had, what if she simply wasn’t interested in him? The only way to know the