Urges: Part Three (The Urges Series Book 3) (7 page)

***

I should have known
better than to think that the bitch wouldn't rat me out. The very
next day, a familiar and unpleasant face walks through the door of
Hillenbrand Hardware, and I loathe the fact that I have to treat him
politely. Because of him, I quit a job I actually enjoyed. Because of
him, I can't go back to it. Because of him, I'll never trust an
attractive guy again.

“
So
I guess it is true.” Trent's eyes rove around the hardware
store.

“
To
what do I owe this displeasure?” I was able to hold back my
angst from Marcelene. This is a bit too much though.

“
I
need cable ties.” He points up at the row of signs hanging
above the aisles. “Any chance you could lead me in the right
direction?”

Seriously? He could
have gone to a hardware store closer to his house if he wanted to buy
cable ties. The real reason he's here is because he wants to harass
me.

“
Aisle
eight,” I grunt, keeping my eyes narrowed at him as he
disappears out of view. At least, this gives me time to muster up
some snark for when he returns to the counter. Since I'm the only
cashier in the place, I'm going to have to deal with him. Hopefully,
he'll take his wares and leave, having just come to confirm that I've
found employment elsewhere.

I tap my foot,
feeling anxious to see him again. Just knowing that Trent is in the
building with me—that we're sharing the same space—has me
on pins and needles.

After what feels
like a lifetime, but was probably only five or ten minutes, he rounds
the corner back into my line of sight with the package of cable ties
in hand. He tosses them onto the counter absentmindedly, and I begin
ringing him up.

“
I'm
guessing these are for your dungeon,” I can't resist saying,
though it doesn't really feel like I'm taking a jab at him.

“
My
dungeon?” he lets out a short laugh. When I don't respond, he
says, “Well, they are for my basement, but not for what you
think.”

The transaction goes
rather smoothly. He hands me his credit card. I swipe it and stick
the ties in a bag. When I give the bag to him, I expect him to take
it and leave. He doesn't though. Instead, he just stands there
staring at me. “I was wondering if we could go somewhere to
talk.”

“
If
you haven't noticed, I'm working.”

“
I
mean, when you get off of work.”

“
I
have nothing to say to you. Our business is finished here. You should
leave. I wouldn't want a customer thinking I'm not available to
assist them because I'm talking to you.” I cross my arms over
my chest.

“
What
other customers?” He glances around. “This place is dead.
I'm pretty sure I'm the only person in here.”

He's right. He is
the only person in here. He's the only person who has been in the
store in the last thirty minutes.

“
Well,
I have things to do. I can't exactly stand around and chat with you.”
I shift my weight, hoping and praying that Kevin will come out of his
office to check on me. That's unlikely though. As far as he can see
on the surveillance cameras, Trent is just another customer, and it
likely looks like he's chatting me up for advice, not that I'd have
any to give.

“
Are
there any good restaurants around here?” Trent leans against
the counter.

“
There's
a seafood place down the street that's pretty good.” I stare
out the front door, trying to will him with my mind to leave.

“
What
time do you get off from work? I'll take you to dinner.” His
eyes flit up to meet mine.

While I don't want
to get cornered into spending anymore time with him than I have to,
the idea of a free meal does sound appealing. As it is, the only
thing in my cupboard is ramen. Not exactly the dinner of champions.

Now I'm fighting an
internal debate between my stomach and my mind. I know better than to
agree to go with him. What happened between us ended when I left
Chilly Creations, Inc. Still, I am a bit curious as to what he has to
say.

A
customer walks through the door, and I sigh in relief, feeling like
I've just been rescued from my own lack of willpower.
“
Look
at that. A customer. You should go.”

“
He's
not in line yet, and I'm not leaving until you agree to have dinner
with me.” Trent flashes me a charming smile.

“
My
boss will come out here if he sees you lurking around.” I
frown.

“
Let
him come. I'll tell him the truth, that I'm your old employer, and I
was just checking on you.”

I cringe at the
thought. The last thing I want is for Kevin to find out the real
reason why I quit Chilly Creations, Inc. And there's no telling what
Trent would say if they started talking. I can't afford for him to
jeopardize my job.

“
You're
horrible,” I growl.

“
Fennel,”
he lets out a breathy sigh. “Despite what you think, I'm not
your enemy.”

“
You
are
my
enemy. My little tryst with you destroyed my life. And now you're
here because Marcelene sent you. I'm not dense, Trent. She was here
yesterday. I know she ratted out where I work.” It's taking
everything in me to keep my voice at a manageable level. The anxiety
building up within me is overflowing. I don't need the customer to
walk up on us arguing. Or worse, for Kevin to show up when he
realizes that I'm having a confrontation instead of a discussion.

He takes a step back
and holds up his hands in surrender. “Alright. You've got me
there. I am here because Marcelene told me that this is where you
work now, but it's only because I wanted to check on you. When we
talked, you said you wanted to work in an office. What happened to
that dream?”

My self-esteem takes
a nosedive as I remember that I sacrificed my desires for my needs.
“I don't want to talk about it.”

“
I
think you do want to talk about it, and I'd like to hear about it.”
Trent turns his head just in time to see the customer walking up with
his merchandise. He doesn't move though. “I'm not leaving until
you agree to come to dinner with me.”

Panic races through
me, and it's magnified the moment that I see Kevin on the customer's
tail. This conversation has gone on long enough. The animosity
between us has been detected, and things are going to get a whole lot
uglier if I can't get Trent to leave.

“
Fine.
I get off at seven. I'll meet you there at eight,” the words
come out of my mouth in a jumbled mess, and my heart threatens to
follow. My eyes are locked on Kevin. My hatred of Trent doesn't even
matter anymore. All that matters is making sure I get him out the
door, tend to the real customer, and keep my job.

“
Excellent.
I'll see you at eight.”

CHAPTER SIX

“
I
wanted out of my mother's house. If you didn't notice of the way she
was staring at us when you came over to talk to me, she's always up
in my business. It's hard when you live in a house that small. It's
not really made for two people, I don't think.” I stare at my
wine glass, looking at how the light plays off of the curved surface.
The red wine inside is half drained. I need all the liquid courage I
can get to make it through this dinner with Trent.

“
So
you took the first job that came along.” He swirls the wine in
his glass before taking a sip and then grimacing. The wine is cheap.
I'm not a wine connoisseur, and even I can tell. It has this bitter
tangy aftertaste to it, for lack of a better word. At least, it has a
high alcohol content. That's the only thing that matters to me in the
moment.

“
I
did.” Though I don't feel proud of it. “It could have
been worse. I could have ended up flipping burgers.”

“
Or
you could have just sucked up your pride and came back to work for
me.” His gaze pierces me, and I feel small and vulnerable
beneath it. This dinner was definitely a bad idea. I should have
stood him up, but by the time I got off from work, my craving for a
good meal beat out my logic.

“
It
wasn't pride that's kept me away from Chilly Creations.” I
can't even look at him when I say it. He knows the real reason. I've
explained it to him multiple times already.

“
You
still have a job there, you know.” His voice softens, and he
leans back against the booth. “You'll always have a job there
as long as I'm in charge.”

“
You
know I'm not going back.” I shake my head. “If you
approached me to offer me the job a hundred times, I'd decline every
time.”

“
What
about the hundredth and one?” He grins at me.

“
You're
tenacious.” I roll my eyes at him.

“
It's
because I want you back. It's because I want you.” The way he's
looking at me sends a chill down my spine that sticks at my core.
He's so serious. So handsome. I take a drink of wine, but it doesn't
want to go down. It sits at the back of my throat, keeping me from
saying anything. I'm not sure what I should say, how I should respond
to that.

Thankfully, he
breaks the connection between us by lowering his gaze. His fingertip
moves to trace the rim of his wineglass, and my mind immediately
falls into the gutter, remembering all the magical things he can do
with his hands. “You know, I haven't been able to stop thinking
about you. That's really why I'm here. It doesn't have much to do
with the job. I've just been trying to find a way to bring you close
to me again.”

“
Is
this some kind of romantic confession?” I let out a short
nervous laugh.

“
I'm
honestly not sure. Romance has never been my forte.” He picks
up his glass and downs the remainder of its contents in two long
gulps. Then he grabs the bottle of wine from the bucket of ice
sitting on the edge of our table and fills his glass again.

“
What
is your forte?” I put my hand over the top of my glass when he
tries to top it off. A little wine is okay. Too much wine, and I'll
find myself in his basement again. Alcohol tends to stimulate my
libido, and it's stimulated enough in his presence.

“
I
think you know what my forte is.” His expression darkens as he
sets the bottle back on ice.

“
Being
an asshole?” I quip.

“
Dominance
and pain,” he replies. When he looks at me, I feel transported
back to his basement. There was no kindness in his eyes then. More
sadism than lust.

“
Sounds
like a personal problem.” I decide to ignore him and pick on
one of my nails instead. He's getting too intense for my liking, and
I don't want him to get the feeling that he's in control, because
he's not. This little meeting is all about me.

“
It
is a problem.” He deflates a bit without my attention. “It's
hard finding other people with like interests.”

“
You
should try the Internet. There are a lot of girls into BDSM. You just
have to know where to find them.”

“
I
told you,” his voice drops to a low whisper, and he looks
around to make sure that no one is listening. “I'm not a Dom.”

“
Well,
you could have fooled me.” I smirk in amusement at how
uncomfortable the conversation is making him.

“
Besides,
I don't want other girls. I want you.” The sincerity coming
from him is almost staggering. Still, I don't know how he wants me.
From the way he treated me last time we had sex, I'm pretty sure I
fall into the booty call category for him.

“
I
don't want to be your
whore
,
Trent.”

“
And
I don't want you to by my whore.” He knits his eyebrows, making
the word sound just as dirty as I meant it.