Trevor Reese: His Secret Love Read online

Page 6


  This side of Trevor always surprised Carly. But they were at work, and he was her boss. “Yes, sir,” she said, and left his office too. Sometimes she felt so far away from him that it was remarkable.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Dodge Rogers angrily slammed his hand on the hood of the car that nearly ran him over as the driver slammed on brakes and honked his horn. But Dodge gave the driver the bird and kept on walking, just avoiding being hit by mere inches of a second car as he continued to dodge other cars. By the time he made it to the other side of the busy street, the sidewalk vendors shook their heads. How this fool was still alive was the mystery of mysteries to them.

  “You’re an idiot, you know that?” said one of the vendors to the lucky pedestrian.

  But Dodge ignored him too, and went into the rundown apartment building. He headed upstairs, toward his own apartment, but had just touched down on the second step when somebody beneath the stairs grabbed him by the ankles. He fell down backwards, onto his back, and was then dragged through the gaping hole that separated each step, until he was beneath the stairs too.

  Trevor Reese, in a skull cap and black bomber jacket, grabbed Dodge by the catch of his shirt, lifted him up from the filthy floor, and slammed him against the wall. “Who set me up?” he asked as he leaned as close to Dodge as he possibly could.

  Dodge was Trevor’s contact. Dodge was the man who relayed messages the station chief needed to get to him. “I just heard about it,” Dodge said. “What are you talking about? I just heard about it.”

  Trevor slammed him against the wall again. “Who set me up?” he angrily asked again. “Answer my fucking question! They were waiting on my ass. It was a set up. Who set me up?”

  “I don’t know,” Dodge said quickly. Then he changed it. He knew Trevor. He knew what Trevor was capable of. “Chief,” he said.

  Trevor stared at him. He stared into his eyes. He knew a liar when he saw one. Dodge was not lying. “Why?” he asked him.

  “They needed you to do the dirty work for them.”

  “The dirty work for the CIA,” Trevor asked, “or for the mob?”

  “I don’t know,” Dodge said without hesitation. “All I know is they wanted Lance Celletti dead.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know. How should I know?”

  “What about Chekov, the war criminal? What was that shit about?”

  “I don’t know that either. They don’t tell me shit like that. You know that Trev!”

  “I need to meet with Chief,” Trevor said. “Let him know.”

  “I will. I’ll tell him. I’ll set it up.” Then Dodge hesitated. “For what it’s worth, Chief was pleased to know you survived that ambush. He told me so himself.”

  “Set it up,” Trevor said again, released Dodge, and then left the building.

  The club was popping even as Carly drove up and parked. She was meeting friends for drinks and couldn’t wait to get inside. She needed the break. Work had been hectic all week, and she and Trevor weren’t exactly humming right along. She rarely saw him. It was beginning to really bother her, and get into her head. She was looking forward to some laughs, some dancing, some down-to-earth fun.

  Inside the club, her friends saw her when she stepped out of her Lexus.

  “That’s her right over there,” JoAnna said as they looked out of their booth window.

  “Where?” Douglas McCarren was looking too.

  “Over there. You see that Lexus? That’s her.”

  Douglas smiled. “Okay. She’s hot. Looking good so far.”

  “I told you!” Pauline said. She was sitting with Henry, her beau, and JoAnna was sitting with hers. Douglas, a nice looking realtor, was the odd man out. But not for long, if Carly’s girlfriends had their way. “She’s cute, she’s smart, and she’s sweet,” Pauline added.

  “If she’s all that and a bag of chips,” Doug asked, “why is she single?”

  JoAnna and Pauline looked at each other. They suspected she was fooling around with somebody on her job, but she refused to tell them anything about him, or even confirm if their suspicion was true. But they knew an unrequited lovesick puppy when they saw one.

  “She calls herself liking somebody on her job,” Pauline admitted, “but I don’t think the feeling is mutual. And it’s keeping her from going on with her life.”

  “All I know,” JoAnna said, refusing to get all into Carly’s business, “is that she deserves a good man. You could just be perfect for her, Douglas.”

  “But is she perfect for me?” Douglas asked out loud as he watched the gorgeous black girl make her way across the street, and into the club.

  When Carly saw her friends, she smiled, started moving her small body, and made her way to their booth. JoAnna and her beau Darren were journalists, while Pauline and her man Henry were attorneys. Douglas was in real estate. The odd man out again.

  “Hey, girl,” JoAnna said jovially as they all stood up and gave Carly hugs. Of all of Carly’s circle of friends, she and JoAnna were the closest. But that didn’t mean she shared her innermost secrets with her close friend. She didn’t. She just knew JoAnna the longest.

  “And Carly,” Pauline said, “I want you to meet a new addition to our gang. His name is Douglas McCarren. He’s in real estate. We knew you were thinking about buying a house. We figured he could give you some stick. I meant pointers!”

  JoAnna was mortified. So was Douglas. But Henry and Darren were laughing.

  “I meant pointers, Carly. I am so sorry.”

  But Carly kept smiling and kept it professional. She extended her hand. “Nice to meet you, Douglas. I’m Carly Sinatra.”

  “Nice to meet you, too, Carly,” Douglas responded. “Love your earrings.”

  Carly touched one. Diamond heart shaped. A gift from Trevor. “Thanks,” she said.

  Everybody sat back down. Carly had no choice but to sit beside Douglas. She was going to kill her friends when she got them alone. Although she wanted to tell them about Trevor, and how serious their relationship was, she couldn’t. She told them she wasn’t interested in dating right now. And besides, they weren’t airheaded idiots. They knew she had something going on in that department in her life. They probably also knew, Carly thought sadly, that it wasn’t going well.

  But after several minutes, where the conversation was general and Carly had received her drink and was doing very little contributing, the eternal matchmaker Pauline put her foot in it again.

  “So Doug,” she asked, “how long have you been in real estate?”

  “About five years now,” Douglas said.

  “Any good housing prospects out there?” JoAnna asked. “Or is it a seller’s market now?”

  “I mainly deal with commercial real estate,” Douglas said, “but I’ve got a handle on a few excellent properties.”

  She wasn’t cute, Douglas thought as he glanced at Carly. She was gorgeous. Her big, innocent eyes. Her smooth brown skin. Her beautiful, bouncy hair that draped over her narrow shoulders in big, full curls. And that body. He could do her for days. He wanted in. He decided just that fast that he wanted in.

  And Pauline was willing to accommodate him because she quickly shifted the subject from real estate to real life. “So Doug, are you seeing somebody right now?”

  Carly glanced at JoAnna. She was going to kill them both!

  “No, I’m single,” Douglas eagerly volunteered.

  “Are you interested in the dating scene at all, or not really?” Henry, of all people asked, helping Pauline along.

  “Yes, I am interested. I really want a good woman. It’s just hard out there.”

  “Yes, it is,” Pauline said, and then looked at Carly, as if it was her time to contribute.

  And she did. But not how Pauline wanted. “How about those Patriots?” she asked, and JoAnna and Darren laughed.

  “I thought for sure Atlanta was going to win the damn thing,” JoAnna said. “I was so nervous!”

  “I wasn’t,” Darr
en responded. “We’ve got Tom Brady. Who do they have? Matt Ryan? Give me a break!”

  But Douglas wasn’t ready to let go. They didn’t understand the odd effect Carly was having on him. He always loved too hard, and weirdly quick. This wasn’t love, but he was going to play it that way. “I’ll help you if you like,” he said.

  Everybody looked at him. Carly thought they had moved on. “Excuse me?”

  “House hunting. I can help if you like. As a commercial realtor, I get inside track info, and cut rate deals from my clients, many of whom are looking to unload beautiful houses here and there. That’s their dime market, as they call it. They just basically want to untie some capital quickly, and want to get rid of them. I’m not bragging, but I can get you a fantastic deal.” Then he smiled that big, inviting smile that always slayed them. This fine, young thang right here, he knew, would be no exception.

  “We’ll see,” Carly said.

  Not exactly what Douglas wanted to hear, but he was patient.

  “They lost that game because of one drive,” Carly continued. “They should have played to win, no fumbles, no loss yardage, and kicked the darn field goal. No overtime. No New England victory.”

  JoAnna smiled. “And we’re so happy they played to lose. And lost,” she added, and all of the Bostonians raised their glasses in a toast.

  Douglas was toasting too, but not for the reason they thought.

  When Carly made it home later that night, and made it upstairs, she was surprised to find Trevor asleep in her bed. He was also naked, which wasn’t a surprise at all, with no cover covering his massive body as he laid on his back in the middle of the bed. For a moment, Carly found herself just staring at him. He always seemed drawn to her from the first time they met, but now more than ever. She wondered if it was because of what happened on his last big trip, or if it was just the maturation of their relationship. She didn’t know. But what she did know, she thought, as she walked over to the bed, was that she was drawn to him too.

  She even smiled, and continued to stare at him as she removed her shoes and clothing. She was about to head to the bathroom, to shower, but she heard his voice. “Where do you think you’re going?” he asked her.

  She turned quickly. His eyes were still closed and his body had not moved, but his asleep penis had awakened. “I was going to shower.”

  “Come here,” he said.

  She walked back over to the bed. He reached out his hand, she clasped it, and he pulled her to him, and then on top of him. When he felt her soft, naked body, and sniffed her wonderful scent, he began rubbing her back, her ass, her thighs. And when he opened his big violet eyes, they were hooded. “Still would rather take a shower?” he asked her.

  Carly smiled, and laid her head on his shoulder. “Later,” she said, and basked in his touch.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  The next morning, Douglas McCarren, bare-chested and wearing a pair of spandex shorts that revealed his thick thighs, was in full workout mode by the time Carly, in her Puma shorts and t-shirt, made it downstairs to the gym. She lived at the Orient, a luxurious condominium building in downtown Boston, and it wasn’t unusual to find other residents already working out. Carly ignored them all and headed for the treadmills that faced the floor-to-ceiling windows, and a sweeping view of the Boston landscape. But within minutes, after Carly had increased her walking speed to a serious run, Douglas McCarren was paying attention to her. He got off of the weights and onto the treadmill next to hers, and began a brisk walk.

  When she still didn’t pay him any attention at all, he decided to go for it. “You’re good,” he said with a big smile.

  Carly thought she knew the voice. That was the only reason she so much as glanced his way. But when she realized it was who she thought it could be, she smiled. “Hey, Doug. What are you doing here?”

  “Condo sitting for a client, if you can believe it.”

  Carly smiled, but it was rather hard to believe. A man of his stature housesitting? It seemed as implausible as Trevor housesitting. But that was his business. “Good for you,” she said, as she kept up her workout pace.

  “I’m surprised nobody in our circle mentioned it to you,” he said.

  “Why would they mention it to me?” Carly asked.

  Douglas realized he had revealed too much. “Just saying,” he said, “since I’m sort of in the circle now. But everybody’s been so busy lately. Busy lives all around. We all need to stop sometimes and smell the roses.”

  “Roses don’t pay bills,” Carly said as she continued to run.

  Douglas found that an odd comment to make. Especially considering that her boss owned the condo she was living in, and undoubtedly paid all her bills. She might not have known that he had looked into it that deeply, but he had. But Douglas never shirked from a challenge. A woman easy to get was never a woman he wanted to have. “That’s true,” he responded to her. “They don’t pay bills. But they smell good.”

  Carly smiled at his response, but continued her workout.

  Douglas continued his workout too, but inwardly he didn’t care for this side of Carly, this all-serious side. She seemed arrogant to him when she was all business, like those uptown bitches who thought they were too good for him. But last night, when they all met up for drinks, she seemed like loads of fun. Even sweet and playful. That was the woman he wanted to fuck.

  “Work out much?” he asked her.

  “Not as much as I’d like,” Carly responded. “I’m about once or twice a week right now.”

  Pauline had mentioned how she was so in shape and worked out all the time. Once or twice a week wasn’t all that much, in his book. But he was thrilled beyond measure to see her today. He was looking her up and down he was so happy to see her. His dick was throbbing he was so happy to see her.

  But he knew he had to keep his creep meter to a minimum. Put it on business, he decided, before she got a clue. “It’s a good thing I ran into you,” he said.

  She looked at him again, as she reduced her full run to a brisk walk on the treadmill. “Oh, yeah?” she asked.

  She had built up a sweat. He loved the way her sweat beads glistened on her smooth, brown chest. “Yeah, I have some nice homes for you to review, if you’re interested. Gorgeous places at cute prices. I’ll shoot an email to you for you to take a look, and you can tell me which ones you might want to pursue.”

  “Sounds good,” Carly said, as her speed began to increase again. “Thanks, Doug.”

  “And maybe, after we view a few of the homes,” he said, “we can go have a drink and discuss where you want to go from here.”

  It felt odd the way he put it, as if he was talking about something completely devoid of house hunting. “I don’t think so,” Carly said, “but thanks.”

  Douglas knew a brush-off when he heard one, but it wasn’t unexpected. Their relationship wasn’t intimate yet. And, if he had to venture a guess, she was too far up her boss’s ass to give him the time of day. But he also knew, if that was going to change, he had to force the issue. “Matter of fact,” he said, “I’ve got some photos on my phone right now of one of the houses I have in mind. My client will be willing to let you have it with a nearly forty percent of its market value. Let me show you.”

  Carly watched him as he pulled his cell phone out of his side pocket and made his way over to her treadmill. She slowed her walk as he pulled up photos of a most attractive home and showed them to her.

  “Isn’t it fab?” he asked her.

  She was impressed. “Yes, it is,” she said.

  “Swipe to see the interior. The entrance will take your breath away.”

  She continued to slow-walk on her treadmill as she took the phone from his grasp and checked out the pictures. “Very nice,” she said as she looked.

  Although Douglas was commenting his appreciation of what she was seeing too, his eyes weren’t on those photos at all. His eyes were on her body. All over her body. And he couldn’t resist. He had to feel her. He had to
know what it felt like to hold this black bombshell in his arms.

  He bumped her treadmill with such force that it caused Carly to lose her balance. She tried to hold onto the arms, but he grabbed her instead, as if to catch her from falling. In so doing, his hand ended up on her ass, the same ass Trevor had rubbed and fucked the night before, and she wasn’t having it. But before she could react to him, he squeezed.

  She jumped off of the treadmill and slapped him. “What do you think you’re doing?” she asked him angrily. Many in the gym looked their way.

  “I tried to break your fall,” Douglas said with his best innocent look.

  But Carly wasn’t buying it. “Keep your hands to yourself,” she said.

  “Okay,” he said, holding his hands up. “I didn’t mean anything by it. If you fall, you fall. I was just trying to be a gentleman.”

  Carly knew the type. She’d seen them all her life. Her biological father used to bring them over to the house to have sex with her. She didn’t give men like that the benefit of any doubt. She handed him his phone.

  “What are you doing?” Douglas asked. “Don’t you want to see the house?”

  “No,” Carly said, and got back on her treadmill.

  “What do you mean no?”

  Carly looked at him. “No. Whatever you’re selling, I’m not interested in buying. Good morning, Mr. McCarren.”

  It was a dismissal, pure and simple. Douglas felt like the biggest punk going the way she brushed him off like that. But that was alright. He knew how to wait. He’d have his chance.

  He grabbed up his gear, and left.

  Trevor Reese was told what happened just after Carly left for work. He was still at her apartment, sitting at the center island drinking coffee and reading the newspaper, when the phone call came. “Which condo?” he asked.

 

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