Trey Ch 06

I awoke the next morning, stretched carefully and rolled over in my bed, praying for the world to stop and let me off. Dinner the night before had been delicious, Trey sparing no expense as he treated my husband and me to a five-star meal at the classiest establishment in our fair city. Satiated with food and tipsy on drinks, we talked the night away, the three of us enjoying a rare night of perfect camaraderie. When Trey's leg moved against mine under the damask tablecloth, my husband was none the wiser – and when we occasionally held hands the same way, he was just as oblivious. The night had been wonderful as Trey shared the news about a deal that would allow him to open a branch in our part of the world—yet he was hesitant to give up control over the company he had given his heart and soul to. He wanted to be here, to hand-pick the employees, and would run the operation himself until he found a manager he trusted to feel the same way he did about the shop. To Trey his company wasn't just a company, and the day's work wasn't just a job – it was his lifeblood, his reputation, and his love.

Listening to Trey, touching him under the table, remembering our wildly passionate and incredibly sensual moments together, I fell deeper and deeper in love with him. When he told us of his fears, his visions, his expectations for the future, I realized with a jolt that he wasn't really telling my husband – he was telling

me.

A warm ripple slid over me as I realized how incredibly sweet it felt to be sharing this man's innermost feelings, fears and desires, in public view of the entire world. The dark realization that I couldn't lean over and publicly express my love for him and his revelations had me reaching for my drink, resentment bubbling up in me and causing my hand to shake slightly as I sipped my aptly named Mind Eraser and struggled not to cry.

Trey knew something was bothering me, something I had tried so hard to cover under the cheer of our celebration. My husband had been unaware of the resentment boiling under my cheerful manner, but Trey, oh Trey knew. He watched me closely, trying to wordlessly ask what the problem was, but how to explain to my lover that what I most wanted in the world – him – I couldn't have, because of my marriage to my useless, inattentive husband, who cared more about the lobster tail on his plate than the simmering distress of his wife of 17 years? So I bit it back, smiled thinly, gripped Trey's hand at every opportunity, and tossed back one Eraser after another, hoping they would live up to their name.

It was only the grace of God and the fact that Trey forced me to drink endless gallons of water after we got back home that prevented me from having a nasty hangover – as it was I was merely uncomfortable and mildly achy. Considering how much I'd had to drink the night before, I was very, very lucky.

Now here I lay, disconcerted by my nakedness, knowing that I had been too far gone to undress myself, yet I clearly remembered my husband passing out in the bed while I was still chugging water in the kitchen under the eagle eye of our houseguest. The thought that Trey had undressed me and slid me into the bed while my husband was just inches away sent a shiver through my frame. What if he had gotten caught? How would my husband have reacted to the sight of Trey's dark hands sliding my clothing off my surely willing, albeit inebriated, body?

Stumbling to the shower, I turned it on full blast, catching the spray on my upturned face, and trying to knock the sexy image of dark on light out of my mind, at least long enough for me to get my act together and face the day. It seemed as though not a moment was going by that Trey wasn't first and foremost in my mind. He already owned me heart and soul. I wondered (hoped, prayed) that I might be having a similar effect on him.

A day of cleaning house and doing laundry cured the fragments of my mild hangover, giving me something to do to take my mind off the nagging thud of discontent as well. I spent a lot of time in the guest room, sliding my hands over the sheets that had caressed Trey's sexy black body, envying them that simple thing. I buried my face in his pillow, smelling him there. I lay down on the quilt, knowing it had felt his touch, the touch I so craved, aching for it here in the solitude of my house. And when I stepped into the guest bath, steeling myself against the smell of soap, cologne and shaving cream, I saw the note he'd left for me on his bathroom mirror, a shocking square of yellow in the soft green and cream room.

If you get this,

it read,

it means that you're up and feeling human again. You worried me last night. Want to do something special. Meet me at Romano's at 11. Dress casual.

Looking at my watch, I swore. Crumpling up the note, I started to toss it in the trash. Then I smoothed it out, stroking my fingers over his handwritten words, before carefully folding it and tucking it in the back of my jewelry box, knowing I'd wear the words away with my constant re-reading of this simple missive. Counting the minutes off in my head, I hopped back in the shower, swiping the sweat and dust off before hurrying to dress and do makeup, hopping around my bedroom on one foot while trying to simultaneously put on a shoe and slip in earrings. My hair, of course, decidedly did not cooperate with anything I wanted it to do, so at last I threw it up in the same clip I'd worn yesterday, a thrill shooting through me at the memory of Trey's large, dark hands burrowing under that clip and through my hair as he pulled me to him and claimed my soul.

Finally I slid out the door, face flushed with a combination of hurry and excitement, heading downtown to my favorite bakery, where my lover had asked me to meet him. I hoped my jeans and tank top were ok, but I had brought a sweater to cover up with if I needed to be slightly classier. It was rather exciting, not knowing what Trey had in mind but so looking forward to being with him again, needing his touch, his voice, his strength to soothe me.

A mere 10 minutes late, I walked into Romano's, inhaling the warm, yeasty scent of pastry and the soft, sexy scents of spice. A quick look around the cozy shop revealed that Trey was nowhere to be found, and a quick, sharp stab of disappointment kicked my stomach. Jamie, owner, head baker and my closest friend, yelled to me as he walked out of the kitchen balancing a scrumptious looking cheesecake in his hand.

- Hey, got something for ya. C'mere. And what's up with you and tall, dark 'n handsome??

Jamie's blue eyes sparkled at me as he watched me blush. He had been my confidante when I first felt the sizzle of attraction for my husband's best friend, and had been there for me through cyber sex and sizzling phone calls, ready to dish out advice and hear the juicy details. I hadn't been able to talk with him much this past week, but he knew me well, knew Trey was scheduled to come to town, and knew I didn't usually feel the need to put makeup on to check out his baklava and croissants.

Flustered, fluttering a hand about, I looked around the shop once again, hoping against hope that I had somehow missed Trey, that he was there in the corner waiting for me. No such luck. Swallowing the tears I felt welling in my eyes, I stepped up to Jamie and gave him my usual hug. Still balancing the cheesecake, he one-armed me in a crushing embrace, hand stroking my back as my breath hitched and disappointment coursed through me. Oh, how I wanted to be curled up into Trey's embrace – then mentally kicked myself for being so disloyal to the closest friend I had.

Reaching up on tiptoe, I hugged him even tighter, whispering my thanks in his ear for his friendship. Closing my eyes, I buried my face in his shoulder, fighting the tears and wondering just how badly I'd behaved the night before that Trey had decided to ditch me. Jamie's hand continued to stroke my back as he soothed me, not prying into my rampant emotions, but letting me have a few much-needed moments to collect my thoughts and calm my nerves.

-Next time go easy on those Erasers, huh? You never drink much anyway, so those must've killed ya, Jamie commented, trying not to laugh at my bemused expression as I pulled back and stared at him. How did he know, I wondered.

Running a flour-dusted fingertip under my eye and catching the tear there, Jamie smiled and shook his head.

-He told me about it, said the more you got hammered the less he drank, just to make sure you'd be safe. Jamie chuckled and continued, he did say you looked cute all drunk and confused when he tried to undress you for bed and you were begging him to make love to you again, right there on the bed where your husband was snoring away. Said it was all he could do to leave you there, naked and grinning all goofy-like, when he wanted to just carry you into his room and hold you all night long.

Blushing in mortification at my inebriated actions of the night before, as told to me by my best friend – the friend I was sure had not been there the night before but who seemed to know a lot of the details.... I was starting to put two and two together and wasn't sure I liked where this was going. Narrowing my eyes, I pulled away from Jamie, looking at his cheeky grin and knowing I was completely missing something important.

-What, he asked, biting his lip.

-How do

you

know what happened last night, I ground out, stepping up close and looking deeply into his familiar face.

Jamie just laughed. Trey told me, he said, running his hand up and down my back again.

-And just how did Trey tell you, I muttered, uneasy about where this was headed. Just how well did Jamie and Trey know each other, to be telling all these secrets? I hadn't even been aware they knew each other at all, let alone had discussions about

my

sex life.

Easily reading the emotions rolling across my face, Jamie burst out laughing. Sliding the tottering cheesecake onto the counter, he wrapped both massive arms around me and held me tight, shaking with mirth. Had he not had the dubious honor of being my pseudo brother, I could have fallen hard for his gym-toned body and quick laugh. But after many nights of cream puffs and coffee, we knew each other too well to be intimate, and settled quite happily for an amazing friendship instead.

Now, stuttering a breath through lips that threatened to tremble, I sobbed once, quietly, into his shoulder. Then gathering the ragged ends of my composure, I stepped back, swiped a quick hand under my eyes, and taking a deep breath, demanded to know how he knew Trey, other than through the pictures I had painted during our late-night gabfests.

It was with something akin to shock that I heard my lover's sweet, sexy voice answer my question from behind me, at the same time feeling the warmth of his hand against my neck.

-I figured all the times you talked about this place, and your friend Jamie, that I better size up my competition, Trey shrugged, smiling slightly. One of the first things they teach you in pro ball is to know your opponent, preferably better than they know themselves. I've been talking to him for a coupla months. So when I headed out here, I met up with him, we talked, we argued, and we came to a certain understanding, he explained, shooting a quick look at Jamie's muffled bark of laughter.

Trey nipped me out of Jamie's embrace and into his own, causally wrapping his arms around my waist, wrists linked behind my back. His cheek rested against my hair, and his lips pressed a quick kiss against me as he slowly rocked me gently in his oh-so-welcome embrace.

Leaning back, I inquired just what this 'understanding' was about.

Jamie grinned, rubbed a quick hand over his mouth, and responded that each knew where the other stood, now. Trey knew that Jamie was just my friend, and Jamie knew what Trey's intentions were. Nuzzled against Trey's broad shoulder, I missed the quick glare that Trey shot Jamie, only catching the undercurrents when I muzzily asked just what Trey's intentions were then, not really even expecting an answer.

It was only when I felt Trey stiffen that I replayed the last few minutes of conversation in my head and realized the importance of his response. With baited breath, I stood still, waiting, hoping, wanting so badly to hear what my lover had to say.

And it was with a keen disappointment that I tried to hold back that I listened to Jamie say that Trey had

intended

to take me on a picnic, which was why he even came to be at Romano's. With that, Jamie leaned behind the counter, picked up an old fashioned picnic basket, slid a red and white checked cloth through the handles, and handed it to Trey, who took it with a smile and nod, a look passing over my head that I didn't understand, but hadn't the heart to question. I mentally kicked my own butt, reminding myself that I knew this interlude was only temporary, and given that I was married, I had no right to ask for anything more than what my lover felt able to give. But no matter how sternly I reprimanded myself on this matter, my heart was breaking into pieces at the thought of his inevitable departure.

Taking my hand, Trey hugged me quickly, then stepped back to guide me through the tables and out the door. But when he saw my face and the emotions I was trying so hard to conceal, he slid the basket onto a nearby table, wrapped both arms around me and kissed me hard, with all the emotion he felt pouring through him and into me. I swayed under the onslaught of that incredible kiss, trying to decipher the maelstrom of emotion flooding over me, but unable to identify anything other than lust and greed out of the whirlpool of sensation sucking me into its depth. I knew there was more there, that it wasn't just the hopefulness of my heart making me imagine it – but every time I thought to grab at the threads of emotion sweeping by, they eluded me, until I finally gave up and just reveled in this fantastic, body-rocking kiss that left me weak-kneed and dizzy.

When he finally pulled his lips from mine, resting his forehead against my temple, I realized Jamie was still there, unabashedly watching our passionate exchange. He had a smile on his face, and gave me a quick wink and a thumbs-up before clearing his throat and stating that if we tried that one again, he'd be forced to dry mop the windows to clear off the steam.

-Good, I whimpered, holding my lover tightly to me, willing time to stop and let me have this moment forever.

Clearing his throat and unobtrusively adjusting the front of his jeans, Trey slid his arm around me, picked up the basket, and herded me out the door, around the back, and into his waiting truck, smiling at my blush of embarrassment at how his truck now smelled of my passion, courtesy of his ministrations the day before. Placing the basket on the back seat, he picked up my hand, kissed my fingers, and rested our joined hands on the console, simply staring for a few moments at our entwined fingers. I, too, stared, loving the look of my light skin against his so dark, the length and strength of his fingers far outweighing mine, yet both of us stroking, touching, caressing each other, hungry for contact and quite unwilling to surrender even this little bit of sensation.

Unable to hold it in any longer, I looked at this amazing man, looked at our joined hands, and spoke what was in my heart and had been for years now.

-I love you, I murmured, feeling both tension and relief that it was now in the open.

-I know, he responded quietly, squeezing my hand, and my heart, when he simply reached over, turned the truck on and drove out of the parking lot, still stroking the back of my hand with the pad of his thumb.

I stared out the window as Trey drove, not sure where we were going, and not really caring. I had a few more precious moments with my dark lover, and it was both a relief and a torment to have them. I was relieved, hoping against hope to find some way to stretch the minutes out to days, weeks, years. And I was tormented for knowing it was all going to end, soon, and there was not a thing I could do about it. Once again my mind pondered briefly on the fact that I may well be carrying this man's child, but in delightful torment I refused to linger on the thought. If I were lucky enough to be carrying his child, I would shower it with the love I was unable to bestow on its father, regardless of the consequences to my marriage and my current life.

With a start, I realized that we had stopped. Apparently we had been sitting here for some time, because when I looked over at Trey, he was leaning against the steering wheel, watching me, an unreadable expression on his face. Quick as a flash it was gone, making me wonder if I'd only imagined the intensity of it.

-I asked Jamie for a good place to take you, someplace to be alone, just the two of us, where it would be just us in the world, Trey quietly spoke. This is where he suggested we go.

I looked around, catching my breath at the incredible scenery laid out before us. There were snow-capped mountains rising in the distance, a vague, hazy purple against the deep blue sky. Puffy white clouds provided the perfect backdrop for the lone tree gracing the middle of the field in front of us, which in turn cast its shade over rich red rock formations. Wildflowers tossed their head on the breezes blowing through this hidden valley, and birds chirped all around us, welcoming us to this haven.

Reaching for my door, I started to get out, but Trey placed his hand over mine, silently imploring that I stop.

-I want to do this my way, he murmured, that intense look slipping over his face once again too quickly for me to identify. With a small, shy smile, I acquiesced, my heart hammering as my knight in shining armor once again set out to charm his lady. When he opened my door, helping me down as carefully as if I were made of spun glass, and procured a bouquet of wildflowers, my eyes filled with tears. This man was a once-in –a-lifetime deal, and I wasn't free to have him. My love for him was a double-edged sword, cutting through my very heart and blinding me with its brilliance.

Snagging the basket, Trey took my hand and led me off to the shade under that huge old tree, spreading out the blanket before drawing me to his arms and kissing me, stroking me, caressing me. His hand brushed my neck, the sides of my breasts, my hips. My nipples swelled in response to the excitement of his familiar touch, while my blood thrummed through my veins, threatening to make the world spin around me as I struggled for breath. I couldn't stop touching him, my hands everywhere—his neck, his head, slipping over his cheeks, holding his face while I ravaged his mouth. I stroked his shoulders, caressed his chest, scored my nails over the muscles of his back. I slipped my hands under his shirt, gasping at the warmth of his skin, the smooth strength of his body, and its relentless pull on my own.

Breathless, moaning, I whimpered when he pulled away, feeling cold and lost without his touch until he finessed me backward onto the red checked cloth. We lay there for precious moments, touching, kissing, murmuring sweet sounds without meaning, both of us agonizing over his looming departure. With a gasp he tore his mouth from mine and rested his forehead against me, struggling to control his ragged breathing. I could feel his heart pounding against my breast and his hard length press into my thigh. Shutting my eyes, I willed this moment to never end.

-It'd be a shame to waste all this food Jamie got together for us, Trey whispered against my lips, his tongue stroking their perimeter and making my stomach tremble. Besides, I wanted to do something special for you, give us both one perfect memory.... He stopped there, cursing himself for the tears welling up in my eyes. I tried to turn my head away, hating myself for not being able to control it around him, but he softly cupped my cheek, turning my eyes back to his.