Endless Bonds

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he first taste of Trenton Reynolds is intoxicating and so addicting – I already want more.

His lips are warm and firm against mine, shutting off any noise that escapes me. I melt into the kiss, my shoulders deflating and my fingers tunneling in his brown strands, holding him too me for a second longer.

His guttural groan and my gasp echo in unison as we pull away to stare at each other, our eyes alight.

He's breathing heavy and so am I. With every inhale, the sliding of our chest against one another pulls at my heartstrings.

My younger self emerges – the one I keep locked down – and she beams at Trenton, the boy she used to dream about kissing for nights and nights. I smile at the one who's been my object of affection for years; the one who's played a pivotal role in my teenage dreams.

I see a flash of a younger Trent, too; the one who's always had a playful smirk slapped on his face and a twinkle of mischief in his eyes.

Trent's jaw is slack as he tries to level his breathing, but the grin is there and it's wide. I laugh a little shakily as I clasp his face, loving the feel of his stubble in my bare hands.

"That was overdue, eh?" I whisper to him, as if this moment is sacred between us, the darkness and the sliver of moonlight peaking into the lobby.

With a gruff sound, Trent mashes our foreheads together, making my exhale his inhale. All amusement is thrown out the window. "Cher."

My name in his mouth, just like that. It sounds like a prayer – like he reveres me – and it's all I need.

I let him know that I'm feeling so much with the way I cradle his jaw in my hands, telling him that yes, I feel this, too.

My eyes shine with what has been unspoken between us for years.

I shouldn't but, because I can't resist myself, I rise on my toes and give him a chaste peck as goodnight on his languid mouth.

His eyes close and his throat works with a powerful swallow, as if he soaks in that small gesture.

When his gaze snaps open, it's turbulent. There's something so dark, feisty and naughty swirling in the depths of his eyes.

Suddenly, one of his hands lets go of my hip and travels low until it's gripping one ass cheek painfully through the denim of my skirt. The other one travels higher until it grips the end of my long bronze strands.

In a move that has me nearly panting for him, Trent wraps my hair around his fist a couple of times and tugs fvcking hard, forcing my head back until all I can see is him and him alone.

"Trent," I whimper my mouth falling open and my eyes stinging a little. I love it a little rough and I've never admitted it out loud.

He starts using the strength of his muscular body to walk us backwards and I'm helpless to follow. "You keep saying my name like that, not knowing what it does to me. Not knowing what it makes me want to do to you."

I grab his crotch, my fingers scoring the bulge over his jeans. He hisses in pleasure. "This is what it does to you," I say breathlessly, my head spinning with a hundred different revelations of Trenton Reynolds.

"Damn. Fvcking. Right." He nips my collarbone in warning, before he falls into a soft leather armchair positioned against a wall, taking me with him. "You going to do something about it?"

He turns me around so I'm facing him, squatted over his lap, my feet on either side of his hips. I'm tiny and, because Trent is huge, he makes me feel even smaller.

It's embarrassing how loud I'm breathing. It's embarrassing how quickly he made me damp and how much it hurts between my thighs. I need attention there so bad. "Do you want me to do something about it?" I barely suppress a moan.

"I think, baby, that we're going to put on a little show in the dark. You think I'm bad? You've seen nothing yet." He's sucking my earlobe in his mouth, while the other hand continues to palm my ass until my skirt is hiked up all the way to my waist. "What did you tell me upstairs? You want to c*m, sweetheart?"

He opens his mouth and bites down on my neck, before sucking it hard. God, he's a biter and I love it. He rubs his hand lovingly over my bare ass cheek, before spanking it so hard.

"Please. Please. Please. So bad," I find my desperate voice.

He growls, jerking my head back with the hand still wrapped around my hair. "God, you begging just like that. Probably the sweetest sound I've ever heard."

I try to reach forward to kiss him, but he dodges it with an evil glint.

"Your ride's going to be here soon, so let's play a little game." He knuckles my thong to the side, and I moan at the feel of his fingers teasingly skimming my folds. So close to my bundle of nerves, but he pays it no mind, the bastard. "You're going to touch yourself, baby, and I'm going to keep your mouth busy through it all. Tease your clit or stuff your fingers up your pvssy, I don't care, but you're going to do it fast. Show me how you make yourself come, Hermosa. Show me where I want to be so bad. And, when you finish, I'm going to suck your fingers clean." He slaps my ass again and the sound reverberates in the dark lobby along with my sharp cry. "Get moving, sweetheart. Put those fingers to work."

Somewhere along the way, I lose the beret and Trent's zipped open my jacket. The neckline of my t-shirt is askew in a way that has my breasts ready to pop out.

My mind feels drugged as I skate my fingers down my thighs until I'm grazing my forefinger and middle finger over my glistening bare flesh.

Trent's eyes darken even further and a groan rips free of his mouth. "That's it, baby. Touch yourself. Show me how bad you get when you're alone at night. Do it for me."

"Kiss me," I counter, as the pads of my fingers come in touch with my poor, neglected clit.

With a defeated groan, he tugs my head back with the strands he's still grasping. My hair will be a mess when he's done with me. I don't even care because then, he's stamping his mouth over mine with a vengeance, silencing me.

Something that's all Trenton Reynolds evades my mouth and I'm helpless to take the assault of his mouth as he pushes his tongue in roughly, demanding entrance. I give it all to him. He shows me a small teaser of everything he's capable of giving us. Our tongues battle for dominance as our mouths move together.

He kisses me hot, a little bit sloppy and a whole lot dirty. It's exactly the way I like it.

I've got my fingers right where he asked, rubbing my clit furiously without breaking apart from him. I'm already so close from all the teasing. I know after a few more rough whispers of what he plans to do to me, I'll go off.

That's a good girl.

Just like that, baby. Feels good?

Imagine when it's my fvcking dick.

My jaw hurts and I need to come up for breath. Trent turns his affections to my neck, breathing me and placing a multitude of kisses along my collarbone. "Put a finger in your pvssy," he growls. "Fvck yourself."

"Trent." Oh, my God. Him commanding me like that is all I need in life. I'm so close – my thighs are shaking – but I do as he says.

He raises his head, his wet mouth curling sinfully and his eyes half-mast with desire for me. The expression on his face is dark and promising and I know I'm ready.

"That's my girl," he hums in approval. I'm fvcking myself with my fingers, the squelching sounds wrapped around us. "Ahhh, fucck. Bet you're so tight. You're going to drive me crazy the first time I get between those legs, aren't you, baby?"

"Yes," I whimper, halfway lost in the feeling. "Trent."

"Faster, baby. Before someone catches us, Cher."

So close. So, so, so close.

"Want to hear what I've got planned for you?" he murmurs.

I moan a yes.

His hand races behind my neck, jerking me to him but not kissing me. "First time I take you, baby, it's going to be rough and hard. On all fours. Because now I know that's what you like – what gets you off. But I need you to come right now if you want me to be good to you later, Cher. Show me what I've done to you, Hermosa. Show me how wet I've got you."

It only takes a few more strokes. It only takes a few more dirty promises from Trent and I'm shattering, his mouth swooping in to catch every sound of pleasure he's wrung out of me.

My body is quaking, and I feel hot all over. My heart's pounding so fast and I know he can feel it. It's his fault.

Through my pleasure-induced haze, I find myself lifting my wet fingers to Trent's mouth.

With a growl, he sucks them down to my knuckles, his tongue catching all my juices. "Fvck, you taste perfect."

I'm panting, lust blanketing all common sense. "God, you're so dirty. I love it."

"You haven't seen anything yet." He playfully nips my fingers as I pull them out. "You coming like that – hottest thing I've ever seen. You even got cum all over my jeans."

"I'm not sorry." I lean forward, kissing his jaw. "You've ruined my panties."

"I'm not sorry either."

He's fixing my thong and skirt, gently smoothing them into place and I almost weep at the sweetness he gives me after being so fvcking bad.

"Come here," he whispers, drawing his arms around me. "Cheryl."

I feel one with him as my arms wrap around his shoulders. I gaze into his eyes before tilting my head and catching his bottom lip with mine.

He kisses me gently this time, almost passionately, allowing me to taste myself in his mouth. His lips fit perfectly to mine, as if this was always meant to be.

"I used to have dreams about you," I mumble against his mouth. "I'd wake up all hot and bothered."

"Oh, fvck. Yeah? What did you do about them?"

I'd remove my nighty and kick off my panties, making my fingers dance between my thighs to relieve myself of the ache he put there. "Exactly what you just made me do."

Trent groans agonizingly. "You're killing me. I'm thinking about you at seventeen, fingering yourself in bed – the same bed in which we'd have our study dates."

"Try fifteen," I stick my tongue out at him and he laughs out loud, a deliciously satisfied rumbling that I'm loving too much.

"What am I going to do with you?" His chuckle subsides and he looks so cute, partially illuminated in the night, his hair a mussed mess because of me.

His expression is so loving and I know I'm screwed.

I'm in deep shit

Having dirty-talking, panty-dampening Trent is one thing. Having this sweet and tender one thrown into the mix fvcks with me.

I bite my lip, gently fixing his hair. "I can think of a few things."

Trent's about to answer when Sara suddenly yells bloody murder behind me, the flashlight from her phone blinding us.

Trent instantly screeches like a little girl and flings me off his lap until I hit the ground, howling in surprise and pain. "Holy crap!"

I didn't even hear the building door open.

Sara screams louder, her phone slipping from her hand until it lands smackdab on my forehead.

I groan in pain. "Ow. Guys."

Trent, apparently thinking this is a contest, shouts even louder to Jesus, scrambling out of the leather chair like his ass is on fire.

Like Sara is the devil herself.

"Can everybody stop!" I'm on my hands and knees, searching for my fallen beret. "Can we calm down, please!"

Sara is still screaming, her hand on her throat. "He started it! I called you six times to say I'm outside and you didn't hear me! So I came searching inside!"

"What the fvck! You started it! You didn't think to call out to us? Jesus Christ, Sara! Who creeps like that?" Trent's voice has gone hoarse. "You scared the shit out of me!"

Sara's shaking, her eyes wide. "I'm going back into my car where I'll wait for you! This place is spooky as hell and I'm not staying another minute. Meet me outside."

I start laughing as I stand up shakily. Trent helps me, his hands on my elbows. "My God. You scream like a little bitch, Trent."

He glares at me. "Don't even get me started. Text me when you get home safely, okay?"

"Okay." I can't help but smile at him. This night is perfect.

My grin must be contagious because his face is slowly regaining color. He huffs, and shakes his head. "Goodnight, babe."

"Night."

Then he kisses me.

Right in front of Sara.

Who sucks in a deep breath with wide eyes. "Oh. Oh, my."

My lips roll into my mouth and I turn to her. "Ready?"

Trent winks at me and walks backwards towards the elevator. "Don't forget. Text me."

"You have a lot of explaining to do," Sara says.

I sure as fvck do.

* * *

"So," Sara starts, her expression in disbelief. "You've got a nine-month fiancé, but things have been rocky because of long distance. Since coming back home you've caught feels for Trent – Actually, your old feelings resurfaced over the past two months because you used to be in love with the guy. Now you've just made out with Trent because he doesn't give a fvck about the fact that there's another guy and because he also feels something for you. Did I miss anything?"

Sara and I are laying on our beds, facing each other.

I purse my lips. "Yeah. I forgot to mention something pretty hefty to Trent."

Her eyes widen in mock-surprise. "No. What could you have missed in this juicy saga?"

"I told him there was another guy; not that the other guy was my estranged fiancé."

"Yikes," she mumbles. "That's going to come bite you in the rear."

"I know, girl. I need to talk to Pierre. What happened with Trent tonight wasn't wrong, but what I did to Pierre was. He's actually a really caring and generous guy. He didn't deserve it. It's just being apart for so long, and then being back home reminded me that, to a certain extent, I never really got over Trenton. If he affects me this way in such a short amount of time, that speaks volumes, right?"

"Right. It does. So are you going to break up with your fiancé...?"

I close my eyes and feel the weight of his engagement ring in my palm. This conversation is going to hurt. I know there's only one thing left for me to do, but the fact that I'm about to break Pierre's heart – not because we're through but because I cheated – kills me.

Because Sara can be immature at the worst times, she starts singing, "Break up with your fiancé, yeah, yeah, cause Trent's booooored."

I shoot a pillow at her face and she laughs, catching it before it hits her.

Reaching for my bedside table, I pull open the drawer until I find my blue velvet box. I take a second too long to stare at my beautiful ring, before I deposit it back to where it came from for the last time ever.

"Cher, despite all the jokes, are you okay?"

My heart feels like it's in my throat and my eyes are burning.

I am okay, though. Or, at least, I will be.

The truth is, no one wakes up one morning thinking they're going to be the kind of girl who cheats on her fiancé with her best friend. These aren't things that are planned and sometimes life catches us at bad times. Sometimes, it catches us at our lowest. What I did to Pierre was low and unplanned.

The slow-burn behind Trent and I was building up, I know this now. However, I'd had no intentions of acting on it until tonight when, for the first time in my life, I threw caution to the wind.

I went for what I've wanted for so long.

And that's my best friend.

Because I'm not proud of my actions, I'm not letting myself off the hook. I do know that in time, I will find it in me to forgive myself. I know in my heart that I'm not a bad person. I never, ever meant to hurt the people close to me, but I did.

What matters is that, despite my mistake, I don't regret what occurred tonight.

I made a mistake with Pierre, but I can't regret the outcome – the start of something new with Trenton.

So, I'll allow myself a few days to wallow in regret and self-loathing if needed. But I will put my big girl panties on, square my shoulders, hold my chin up and go on with my decision because life happens to all of us.

Life keeps moving on.

Time stops for no one. Wasn't that proof enough with Trent and I? It seems as though life keeps throwing obstacles at us until now.

Maybe my biggest regret will be hurting Pierre, but I need to make peace with my decision. I need to make the best of the time I can finally have with Trenton.

"I have to pee," I tel Sara, getting out of bed with my phone in hand.

* * *

Numb.

I'm extremely detached and numb.

For the last twenty minutes, I kept staring at my phone, wondering how to call Pierre and tell him what I've done.

I wondered how I could beg him to forgive me, even though I didn't deserve it.

Unable to utter the words, I'd started procrastinating and went on numerous social medias.

Until I landed on Instagram and saw something that had my blood boiling with rage.

I'm calm now.

But fifteen minutes ago, I was fvcking livid.

Here I am, feeling so much guilt and self-hate at myself. Here I am, wondering how I'm going to look at myself in the mirror, knowing I broke Pierre's trust and heart. Here I am, wondering why Pierre has been so distant.

There's a picture that's snagged my attention.

A party in Paris. Posted half an hour ago.

Lise Moreau has got her slimy arms wrapped around Pierre, who's got a tumbler of scotch in his hands – he loves scotch – and bloodshot red eyes. He doesn't look all that there.

He's got her lipstick mark on his cheek and she's got hickeys all over her neck.

Her caption is two words and one emoji. Mon amour. Heart.

Son amour? I can fvcking kill her.

Why am I surprised...

I knew it. Somewhere deep in my bones, there was an unsettling feeling that I kept denying. I kept pushing it away before it bubbled to the surface, telling myself there's no way Pierre would be two-timing.

Here I am, feeling so bad for kissing Trent. There he was, hooking up with his ex-girlfriend.

I laugh to myself, but there's no humor. Karma, Cher. You cheat; he cheats. An eye for a fvcking eye.

Right now, I'm triggered. Right now, I know that Pierre doesn't deserve my apology. He lied to me countless times, telling me that there was nothing between them.

I no longer feel bad about what I did tonight.

But I will break up with my fiancé. And, because I can be petty, I'm going to do it through fvcking text message.