Not Quite Enough (Not Quite #3)(72)
Author: Catherine Bybee

Monica squirmed on his lap, not content to feel his rising need pressed against her thigh. There were much better places for that part of his anatomy than her thigh and damn if she wasn’t ready to experience it… him again. Using the sofa for leverage, she lifted her knee over his legs and startled him. Even between their clothes, their combined heat burned. She arched into him with a low moan of pleasure.

Skilled hands ran along the edge of her bra, undid the clasp, and filled his palms with the weight of her br**sts.

He broke the kiss and held her to him with both hands as he lifted both of them from the couch. Clasping on with her legs, she used her lips to suck on the lobe of his ear. “Jeez, Monica, you make it hard to walk.”

She giggled. “Oh, you’re hard. Very yummy and hard.”

In her room, he fell with her onto her bed, pinned her, and thrust his hips into hers.

“We have way too many clothes on, Barefoot.” She tugged at his shirt, freed it from his shoulders, and tossed it away.

Trent helped her out of her shirt and leaned in to taste her needy br**sts. Their endless foreplay had ended right here for weeks. Not this time.

She reached for his pants, undid the clasp, and thrust her hand inside.

He pulled away from her long enough to groan. Using his surprise she shifted her leg over him until she rode on top. “I think it’s my turn to be on top,” she said.

He laughed. “Whatever the lady wants,” he promised. “Just get naked.”

She slid off the bed and pulled his pants with her until he was there in full naked mouthwatering glory. When she kicked the rest of her clothes off, she reached for her bedside stand, found protection, and returned. She sheathed him slowly, running her hand up his length and back down. When his eyes glossed over and closed she did it again.

Trent reached for her hips and guided her close. With her spread over him, he rounded a hand in front and cupped her. Monica rode his hand for a moment until the rhythm carried her close to the breaking point.

When Trent lifted her up and onto him, he plunged and carried her weight. The angle brought depth and fired off explosions and heat. Monica wanted to think she had control over him, but he managed to take her over and over, guiding her hips and finding the perfect angle for her world to spiral and break free in a rush of pleasure.

He flipped her under him, so unexpected, and so damn hot, and pushed her into the soft bed.

“More,” he said in her ear as if a promise. “I want more from you.”

“I don’t know if I—” But he moved a little higher and—hell yeah—heat built again until she was moaning his name and her eyes went blind.

He pushed himself farther once, twice, until pleasure rippled over him with his release.

The world stopped spinning on its axis yet the two of them kept moving, hearts beating, heads spinning, until she heard Trent draw in a breath. “If… if you tell anyone I agreed to not do that with you, I’ll tell them you’re the liar. Fair warning.”

Her laughter filled the room. “Wanna do it again?”

The rumble of his chest against hers was quickly followed by him climbing off her and vaulting off the bed.

Stunned, she leaned up on her elbows and gaped. “Where are you going?”

“Coffee,” he said. “We’re going to need coffee to stay up all night. Make up for lost time.”

The man she loved glanced at the door, jumped back on the bed like a kid, and kissed her. “I love you,” he whispered. Then he made good on his threat and left to brew a pot of coffee.

Hours later they finally fell asleep, closed off from the world. The next day all Monica could think was the world might be embarking on a new day, but she was taking on a whole new life.

Epilogue

Two months later

“Do you love me?” Trent asked her as they stood in front of one of the company helicopters he’d had Glen fly in from the airport in Houston.

It was the week before Thanksgiving and the Morrisons had invited Trent and his brothers to join them for the holiday. Somewhere, someone heard Monica talk about Trent’s bucket list desire of doing the whole cattle run with his brothers. Funny how if you told a Texan you want to ride a horse and live on the range, they’d make it happen even if winter was fast approaching. Not that Monica worried about Trent having any issues with hypothermia. It was Texas, after all. The weather didn’t get that bad.

Trent, his brothers, Dean, Jack, even Gaylord were leaving in the morning for four days of camping, riding, and otherwise living off the land.

That was tomorrow. Today, Trent stood in front of a helicopter that represented one of her greatest fears, and if she was reading him right, she knew what he wanted them to do.

“You know I love you. I moved all the way across the country and now live in the snow a good four months of the year. Four months!” And she wouldn’t change it for anything. The suit against the hospital ended in her favor to the tune of many zeros. She enrolled in an NP program close to the Fairchild home office and the two of them picked out a ranch-style home that sat on top of a hill facing east. They watched the sunrise together almost every day.

Ginger now had Gilligan, their new dog, to play with during the day when the two of them were gone. Poor Gilligan tried to be the man, but Ginger ran over him every chance she could.

Trent grasped her waist and teased her with a kiss. “Come with me.”

Although the thought of climbing in the chopper made her heart rate race, she knew she trusted Trent.

She twisted out of his arms and swung open the door of the helicopter before she lost her nerve. “Oh, OK, fine. Let’s go.”

Trent didn’t give her time to change her mind. He sat behind the controls in seconds and soon the now familiar headphones covered her ears, and the propeller started to spin.

“You do know that most women don’t have to prove their love by riding in one of these things?”

“Most women don’t sleep with the pilot.”

“Do we sleep?” she teased.

He winked at her before lowering the sunglasses on his nose.

The day was clear, the Texan sun was high above, giving the day a feel of spring.

Instead of focusing on the ground, or the sky, Monica watched the joy wash over Trent as he lifted the bird off the skids and into the sky. Once in the air, he pivoted the helicopter toward the direction he wanted to go.

“You really love it,” she said.

He glanced over at her, removed a hand from the controls, and squeezed her knee.

As much as Monica liked the gesture, she felt much better with both his hands on the “wheel.” She returned his hand and gave it a good pat. “You fly, I’ll try to keep my lunch in.”