“You don’t get to walk away before you answer me.”

“Says who?”

“Says your boss.”

I turned around. “You didn’t act like my boss when you gave me weed and dick.”

To this, he said nothing. His eyes slid a needle of pain into my neck, reminding me the power he had over me.

“First and last time I do this for you,” I stressed. “I mean it.”

“Edie,” he scolded. Why? I was just some girl he’d used to get off and get his daughter to communicate with the world. And I was stupid enough to let him use me because I loved Camila and Luna and enjoyed his hands on my body. Even though, frankly, I also had a dog in this fight. His flash drive. My key to freedom.

“Thank you for paying the shop, by the way. For fixing my car. I appreciate it, but I don’t need a sugar daddy.” My back was still to him.

“Good, because if you call me a sugar daddy one more time, I’ll smash it back to the piece-of-crap state it was in before. This is not what we are, Edie. You use me as much as I use you.”

I wanted to believe him, but I knew what I felt.

The flash drive wouldn’t make us even. Not even close.

I opened the door and walked out, not bothering to close it behind me. There was no point in trying to conceal myself from him.

He’d find me. He always did.

LATER THAT DAY, I SLURPED my Ramen noodles in an alleyway sandwiched between the Oracle building and a large concrete parking lot. The place had the uncomfortable scent of stale piss, but it was so deserted, cold, and quiet, I simply couldn’t resist. Which was ironic, because it was exactly how I’d describe Trent. Sans the piss, obviously.

I sucked the last noodle between my lips and threw the plastic bowl into the bin behind me, my stomach full but my heart empty, when I turned around and slammed right into a concrete-strong body too hot to be a wall.

Trent.

“What?” I bit out. I wasn’t in the mood for his games. Though clearly, it wasn’t just about Saturday and Theo and his questions. I simply didn’t want to be around the guy who had so much power over me without holding anything hostage, like Jordan. Trent cornered me until my spine pressed against the cool metal of the back elevator leading to Oracle building. Reaching into his pocket, he plucked out a key card and swiped it behind my head, making the elevator ping in delight. The door slid open and I stumbled in, my knees weak. He pushed me the rest of the way until my back was against the wall. The door slid shut. He turned around to punch a floor, then twisted his head to face me again.

“What’s going on, Trent? I’ve given you what you want. Why are you here?” I pursed my lips. His face was serious as a heart attack.

“It’s easier that way,” he said, rolling my hair around his fist and tugging it, arching my back. My neck was long and exposed, and he dragged his hot lips across it, making my thighs quiver with anticipation.

“What’s easier?”

“Not to talk. That’s why I’m The Mute. When you don’t talk, people assume you don’t listen. They stop asking you for shit. They start caring less. People love the sound of voices. Theirs and others. That’s why they love music. I don’t. I don’t like music and I don’t like people. So I don’t say shit. But I never thought it would be like this with Luna.”

The candid revelation caught me off guard. That’s why I barely noticed that his hand was already working the buttons of my gray pants. Trent was like a spice. I tasted him everywhere, even though our lips had never touched. Never would, probably. But he still made my mouth water and my eyes burn.

“I need to fuck you,” he groaned into my neck, crowding me to the wall. “That’s all I can fucking think about, Edie. Your pussy clenching around my cock. I need to fuck you, and it’s fucking with me. With my mind. With my priorities.”

“Then do it,” I moaned, pushing a hand into his slacks and cupping his junk. It was huge, and he was so hard, I actually whimpered. I needed him inside of me, too. I needed him to fill me and make me forget. Forget about Mom, and Jordan leaving, and what I had to do to Trent to protect Theo. Forget that life was mostly a chain of disappointments linking tragedies together.

Trent turned around and pushed a button that made the elevator come to a violent stop. He then scooped me up by the back of my knees, making me wrap my legs around him. He kissed my face for the very first time. Not my lips. My neck and jaw and closed eyes. His straight teeth dragging over my skin teasingly, his tongue darting out for a first taste. I wanted to die in his arms and never come back. I started rubbing him through his briefs, feeling him harden even more against my palm. My panties were so damp, the skin of my sex clung to the fabric.

“Please,” I hissed.

“Please what?”

“Please fuck me,” I choked. I never begged. Never had to. I’d had very few partners in my eighteen years, but they were all more than willing to get rid of our clothes before I’d even uttered a word. Not Trent. With him, there was always a push. Then a pull. Then an explosion in-between when we finally happened.

“I don’t have a condom,” he said, just as he tugged my pants awkwardly down between us. My legs were still spread and he started rubbing me through my panties. His cock in my hand, my pussy beneath his fingers, it wasn’t enough. I wanted more. I wanted everything.

“I need you inside me,” I moaned.

“That could be arranged.” He smirked, taking a step back and letting me slide down to the floor. My bare knees hit the rough surface, just as his cock sprung out of his white, tight Armani briefs. It was thick, hard, and swollen. He fisted my hair and brought my face to his monstrous dick. I hooked my fingers in the loops of his slacks with one hand and wrapped my fingers around his base with the other, kissing the tip.

“And you said that we’re not allowed to kiss,” I deadpanned. His chuckle vibrated through his strong, muscular body. My hunger for him was so carnal, it wasn’t even dipped with the usual shame of what I wanted to do. I took as much as I could of him, first coating his cock with my saliva before I sucked it like a lollipop, making sounds I knew were driving him mad while pumping his base with my fist.

“Fuck,” he whispered, tugging at my hair harder. I still had my back to the wall, while he stood in the middle of the elevator thrusting himself into my mouth. He stumbled a little, propping one hand against the wall. “Why do I keep coming back for more of you? What makes you so goddamn irresistible?”

I pumped him faster, sucking him off harder. Then I pressed the tip of my tongue to his slit, feeling the salty taste of his pre-cum and nearly blacking out in pleasure. I wasn’t going to answer him.

“Finger yourself,” he commanded, seemingly frustrated with my lack of response. I complied, interested to know where this was going to lead.

Three thuds came from above our heads, like someone had punched the elevator.

“Hey! Is anyone there? This is Clint from maintenance.”

“Fucking Clint from maintenance…” Trent muttered, grabbing onto the back of my head and starting to fuck my mouth mercilessly. Tears stung my eyes, threatening to run down as my gag reflex was assaulted with his cock again and again. “Shove three fingers into yourself. Let go of my dick. Play with yourself. I’m close.”

I did as I was told, hearing him moan above me and feeling a little shiver running through my body. We could get caught. We would. Clint was obligated to file a report. I knew that because I spent my days printing and filing forms filled out by maintenance people in the building. And what he was going to say was going to ruin us.

“Fuck, Edie, fuck. Don’t stop.”

I didn’t. Tears were now running down my cheeks as I took all of him in my mouth—in and out, in and out—and I felt him jerking on my flattened tongue.

“I’m coming in your mouth.” Statement, not a request. I nodded.

“Anyone there?” Clint echoed above us, and Trent smashed his fist to the wall.

“Trent Rexroth and Edie Van Der Zee from the fifteenth. Would you mind sending fucking help instead of slamming the door?” he roared. There was a brief silence. I didn’t know if Clint was going to get help or try to fix the problem himself.

“Edie,” Trent said, cupping my cheek. “I’m fucking coming.”

In seconds, my mouth was full of warm, thick liquid. All salt and man. I’d done this before, and I always, always swallowed it down before I let the tang assault my taste buds. Not this time. This time I drank him. He was fine wine and I was addicted. I continued touching myself.

“Holy mother of blowjobs,” he moaned, yanking my hair to make me stand up. I got it. We were running out of time. But I still wanted to finish. My hand was still between my legs when I got up on shaky feet. He pushed me against the wall again.

“I want your ass,” he whispered into my ear. “Tell me I can have it this Sunday, and I’ll make you come before fucking Clint arrives.”

“No.” My voice was gruff from lack of talking. “I’m not even close. Now that I know Clint is coming…”

“Clint is not coming, sweetheart,” Trent cut me off, cupping my pussy over my hand and squeezing hard. “You’re coming. If you give me your word I can ride your sweet ass this weekend.”

“I’ve never done anal.”

“I want every hole in your body, Van Der Zee. Hell, I want to create new ones in the process of fucking you.”

I nearly chuckled, but then he placed his fingers on mine and directed me, making me finger myself. I spread my legs as wide as I could, feeling his middle finger caressing my tight hole as he helped me work myself up again.

“You’re quiet today,” he said, his breath hitching once again.

“Thought you’d appreciate it. You don’t like talking to people, right?” I propped one of my legs against his waist and he pushed his middle finger into me—touching my own fingers inside myself—stoking my arousal before slowly pushing the finger up my ass.