Free The Thrust by Shoshanna Evers Page B

what’s safe. We’re doing what’s right.”
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    That night, Clarissa undressed and washed with a basin of rainwater in front of the fire. Trent stood in the doorway, watching silently. But she knew he was there.
    It made her feel sexy, having him follow her with his eyes. Part of her felt like she was dangling food slightly out of reach of a hungry animal. Maybe it was the way he kept his shoulder up against the doorframe, as if to to keep himself from pouncing on her.
    But tonight, she didn’t intend to have him just look at her and not be allowed to touch. She knew her behavior confused him, teased him. Some nights she welcomed his advances, and others, she just . . . couldn’t. Healing was a slow process, and it wasn’t happening as quickly as she’d like it to.
    But being around Trent helped. He was balm for her battered soul.
    “You look good with ink-stained fingers,” Trent said after watching her scrub her blue hands without removing any of the ink. “Don’t worry about that.”
    Clarissa smiled and gave up. “I’m standing here naked, and you’re looking at my fingers?”
    Trent moved in closer to her. “No.”
    He smelled good. Like a man. He needed a shave, but she didn’t want him clean. Right now, she was clean enough for both of them.
    “Don’t move,” Trent whispered, and she stilled.
    The floor creaked as he knelt before her, running his large hands over her naked flesh. He grasped her buttocks, pulling her close to his face, and kissed the junction of her thighs.
    Clarissa shut her eyes, relishing the pleasure he brought her as he licked her slowly, the heat of his hands burning into her cool skin.
    “I think I need to lie down,” she gasped as she rocked back on her heels.
    “I’ve got you,” he said, and held her firm. “You won’t fall.”
    She rested her ink-stained hands on his broad shoulders, still clad in his sweaty work shirt. Sparks exploded within her, setting her insides on fire when she came.
    “Oh my God,” she cried, and in one swoop, he pulled her onto the floor in front of the fireplace next to him.
    “You drive me crazy with need, Clarissa,” he said, tearing his shirt off, leaving his muscles exposed, the sheen of perspiration glimmering in the firelight.
    “I know,” she said, but she meant, I know—you do the same to me.
    “You do, huh?” Trent straddled her, pinning her arms above her head playfully. “So you do that on purpose?”
    She laughed and tried to roll away, but he held her there. For one quick moment, her heart seemed to skip a beat. It was as if her body reacted to being restrained, even though in her mind she knew Trent would never harm her.
    “I’m sorry,” he said immediately when she tensed, holding his hands up, away from her body. “I forgot. I forgot about everything for a moment.”
    “It’s okay,” she said. “Someday I’ll forget about everything too. It’s just going to take a while.”
    He looked at her with such compassion it broke her heart. There had to be other men like him out there, right? If some of the men at Grand Central were good like him, like Barker, then they’d have a chance.
    Humanity would have a chance.
    “I die a little,” he said, “every time I see that look on your face.”
    “No, no, it’s okay,” she reassured him. She took his hand and placed it on her breast, her chest rising and falling quickly with her breath. “I know I’m safe with you.”
    He touched the tender peak gently, rolling his thumb over it, pinching it until both her nipples stood erect.
    “Good,” he whispered.
    She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him toward her, and he groaned. His cock felt so good, pressing into her, filling her the way she needed to be filled. He rocked, hitting her G-spot deep inside as he stroked in, and sliding past her swollen clit on the way out.
    Every move was heaven. Heaven, right there on the living room floor.
    Time stopped, disappeared around them as they took comfort