The Trade (Coastal Rivals Book 1)
The Trade: Chapter 20

My morning with Mica was exactly what I needed. Just me and my brother making the most of our time together. We indulged in a breakfast of chocolate chip waffles, a treat that set a cheerful tone for the day. Full and happy, we decided to take a stroll around campus.

As we walked through the crowd of students, I brought him up to speed with my classes, shared about my recent work with the Daily, and vented a little bit more about Garrett fucking Warner.

Mica, of course, did his whole big-brother bit. Throwing around phrases like, “I’ll knock some sense into that asshole.” He also argued I should have a free pass to the Dayton football games, leveraging his status and all.

He doesn’t understand it, though, the weight that comes with a famous sibling. Yes, his position could open doors for me, but the idea of riding his coattails, of relying on nepotism, isn’t something I’m interested in.

Not to mention the incessant comparisons and expectations. Being “Mica’s little sister” has always made me feel like I need to work twice as hard just to prove my own worth. But I’d rather fight my own battles, carve my own path for myself.

When evening came, it was time for Mica to head home. Our goodbye hug was tight, laced with promises of seeing each other again soon, especially since a trip to our parents’ place is long overdue.

But now, with my brother gone, I’m left to untangle the events of last night. West, for starters, was a whole hour late to our dinner. Annoying, yes. Irresponsible, absolutely. But he’d apologized so much that even Mica seemed to have forgiven him.

The two of them getting along without any threats of bodily harm? I’ll chalk that up as a win.

Then there was Cassidy. Bumping into her outside the restaurant was an unwelcome surprise. She’d suggested, not so subtly, that West was using me to get to Shannon, just like he’d used her.

Her words, her perspective, it doesn’t fit with the West I know. If he wanted Shannon, he wouldn’t tiptoe around it. And I know they’ve shared flirty exchanges in the past, but there’s never been anything more than that between them.

Still, Cassidy’s words are sowing tiny seeds of doubt, taking root in my mind. West has been nothing but open about his feelings for me, but what about his past with her?

Had he treated Cassidy the same way he treated me, only to shrug her off saying they “weren’t together”? And would I be the next “not-ex” if things didn’t work out?

We’re still building trust, but we haven’t defined our relationship yet. Dating? Seeing each other? Close friends with even closer benefits? It’s all so muddled. And now, I’m teetering on the edge of sounding desperate, and that’s not who I am. It’s not who I want to be.

So, I have to face this head-on. Picking up my phone, I shoot West a text.

JADE

ace just left. can I come over?

WEST

yeah, of course. the boys aren’t home rn

JADE

see u soon

WEST

xo

It takes me less than ten minutes to reach his house, and as soon as he opens the front door, I’m pulled into his embrace. His strong arms envelop me, offering a sense of comfort and security that I’ve come to crave.

“Jade,” he starts, voice thick with emotion. There’s an urgency in the way he grips me, pulling back to look me in the eyes. “About last night . . . I’m really sorry.”

“Stop apologizing,” I say, doing my best to lighten the mood. “I told you it’s okay. My brother actually ended up liking you . . . he said he’d like to see you next time he’s in town.”

An incredulous look replaces the tension in his eyes. “Wow, really?” He laughs softly, his lips stretching into a warm grin that reaches his eyes. “That’s fucking awesome.”

“Yeah, so stop freaking out.”

“I’m mostly freaking out because of Cass.”

A hot prickling sensation creeps up the back of my neck, and I shift on my heels. “Yeah?”

“Look, I need to tell you—”

“Hey, I get what she was implying, and I know it’s bullshit.”

A flicker of surprise flashes across his face. “You do?” He scrutinizes me, eyes narrowed in suspicion.

“I mean, it doesn’t even make sense,” I push on, voicing the thoughts that had been eating at me. “Why would you fuck Shan’s roommate just to get to her?”

His eyes widen, taken aback by my blunt words. “Jesus Christ, Jade.”

“No, I’m serious. You said you didn’t date Cassidy. So, I’m assuming you were just fucking her.”

A grimace stretches across his face, a reaction to the harsh reality of the words hanging in the air between us. “We were sleeping together, yes,” he admits reluctantly. “Nothing more.”

“Okay, and with us . . . it’s more?”

He gives me a dark look. “Is that a serious question?”

“Just answer.”

“Of course it’s more. I thought it was clear how I feel about you.”

“I thought so, too.”

His brow furrows. “Jade, you’re the one who didn’t call me your boyfriend last night. You know, when you introduced me to your brother?”

“Well . . . he was already mad. I didn’t want to poke the bear. Also, I just—I didn’t know.”

He snorts, raising one dubious brow. “You didn’t know?”

“Well, we’ve never used that particular word.”

“Okay, well . . . we’re using it now,” he says, a slight edge to his voice. “I’m your fucking boyfriend. You’re my fucking girlfriend.”

“So, that means . . . we’re exclusive?”

He gives me a pointed look. “Fuck yeah, we are.”

“Okay. And Shan?”

“What about her?”

“I know Cassidy was just trying to stir the pot.” My stomach’s churning as I force out the question. “But you didn’t have actual feelings for Shan, right?”

He pauses for a split second, then, “I didn’t.”

“I mean, I know you two were kind of flirty before, and she’s—I mean, she’s so beautiful.”

“No, I didn’t have real feelings for her. We flirted—there was nothing beyond that.”

“So, you just wanted to fuck her, then?”

His brows skyrocket. “Jade.”

“Just be honest.”

“I used to be attracted to her, yes. But that changed when I started to have feelings for you.”

Relief courses through my veins, washing away any lingering doubts. “So, you absolutely don’t want to fuck Shannon anymore?”

He winces at my blunt choice of words. “Can you stop saying that?”

“Sorry, I don’t know how else to put it.”

He takes a deep breath, his eyes locking onto mine. “Look, I don’t even see anyone else when you’re in the room. When you’re not there, I fucking wish you were. You’re the only girl for me, Jade.”

A wide smile stretches across my face, my cheeks warming, heart swelling. “Yeah?” I take a step toward him, pushing onto my tiptoes to bring my lips closer to his ear. “You should prove it, then.”

His breath hitches. “What do you mean?”

“Prove that I’m the only girl for you,” I say, my voice filled with a mix of challenge and desire. I bite my lip as I pull away from him. “Prove how much you want me and only me.”

A spark ignites in his gaze, a flicker of intensity betraying his desire. “Oh? How can I prove it?”

“I think you know.”

“Come here.” His fingers curl around my wrist as he leads me down the hallway. With a swift motion, he yanks open the door to his bedroom, urging me inside. The moment we step over the threshold, he pushes me gently against the nearest wall. “You need me to prove how much I want you?”

“Mhm.”

“Then take off your clothes,” he demands, his voice low and rough with need.

A sense of urgency takes over as I frantically remove my sweater, unhooking my bra with practiced ease. The fabric of my jeans and panties slide down my legs, pooling on the floor beneath me.

His gaze roams hungrily over my exposed body. “God, I’m so fucking obsessed with you.”

He lifts his own shirt over his head, the muscles in his abdomen bunching and rippling with every careful movement. Then he slowly inches toward me, backing me up until my legs are pressed against his dresser. His strong fingers wrap around my hips as he lifts me up and places me on the flat surface.

“Your gorgeous eyes, your pouty lips, that fucking heart-shaped birthmark.” He unfastens his belt, sliding it through as he removes his jeans. “One look at you and I’m instantly hard.”

“Theo,” I whisper. “I need you to touch me now.”

He moves to cup my breasts with a firm yet tender touch. Teasing my nipples, he rolls them between his fingers, eliciting a soft moan. Then, with a tilt of his head, he captures my mouth in a hungry kiss. Our lips meet, tongues tangling together.

The rough pads of his hands continue their exploration, teasing, stroking, driving me to the brink. And now I’m squirming against the hard surface of the dresser, aching for more, a warm pool of heat flooding my center.

“Your body is so fucking tight and sexy,” he murmurs between kisses, fingers trailing down from my breasts to my waist. His words make me flush, a mix of pleasure and a tinge of insecurity creeping in. I’ve never considered myself to be sexy, not when I’ve always been more of the girl next door.

“Fuck, baby, your hips”—he groans, his hands squeezing them possessively—“your thighs. Every time I see you in the library, I can’t help but imagine my head between them.”

“Show me.”

The words barely leave my lips before he’s kneeling before me, his lips pressing tender kisses along the inside of my thigh, slowly inching closer to my core.

His movements are deliberate, unhurried, as he licks a slow, torturous path toward my center. A low groan escapes his lips as he pushes one finger inside me, his touch igniting a spark of pleasure that spreads through every nerve ending in my body.

“Fuck, Jade. You’re so wet,” he groans, his voice laced with desire. “So . . . tight.”

With each deliberate thrust of his fingers, he delves deeper, stretching me, driving me closer to the edge. “That feels. . .” I trail off, unable to speak as his lips wrap around my clit, his tongue flicking and teasing.

The combination of his fingers and mouth sends me spiraling. Wave after wave of pleasure crashes over me, shattering me completely.

As I slowly come back to my senses, he stands up, his boxers discarded, his eyes locked onto mine. “I’m going to fuck you now.”

“Please.”

He slowly rolls on a condom. With gentle hands, he grips my hips and guides my body forward on the dresser, aligning my pulsing core with the head of his throbbing cock. Then he presses his hand flat against the wall behind my head, his gaze drilling into me with an intensity that sends shivers down my spine.

“Tell me you know,” he whispers, his voice low and rough.

I gasp as he inches forward, the tip of him nudging at my entrance. “Know what?”

“That I want you and only you.”

“I know.”

“Good.” With a firm grasp on my hips, he pulls me closer, impaling me with a single, punishing thrust that steals my breath away. The force of his movements rocks us together, the dresser scraping against the wall behind us.

Oh, God. He’s almost brutal in the way he pounds into me. With every push and strike of his hips against mine, my fingers nearly slip out of place on the wooden edge.

“Theo,” I moan, the sound a desperate plea for more.

This is unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before. It’s rough and fast and all-consuming. Every stroke, every collision of our bodies, drives me wild. I let out another moan, but this time, it comes out more like a whimper.

“That’s a good girl,” he growls, his voice gravelly and commanding. “Take it.”

With one last forceful thrust, he slides out of me, lifting me off the dresser and tossing me onto the bed. I’m on my stomach as he comes up behind me. His strong arms slide underneath my hips, jerking me onto my hands and knees.

My body shudders as his fingers trail up my spine. He threads them into the hair at the nape of my neck, pulling gently until my head tilts back, exposing the column of my throat.

“Tell me what you want,” he says, lips grazing against my ear, breath hot on my skin.

“I want—I want you to fuck me.”

He brushes my curls over one shoulder, his lips trailing from my ear down to my neck. A low moan escapes my lips as he nips and bites, marking me as his.

“How?” His hand snakes around my waist, trailing across my stomach until it reaches my throbbing clit. With skilled precision, he presses his thumb against the sensitive bud, circling it until I fall apart.

“Hard,” I plead, breathless and desperate.

As soon as the word leaves my mouth, he removes his fingers from the tiny bundle of nerves. In a swift motion, his palm comes crashing down on my ass, the sound of the impact reverberating through the room. I gasp, shocked by the sting, but the pain mixes with pleasure as he slams his cock deep inside me.

“Oh!” I cry out.

He’s pummeling my pussy now, dragging my hips against him with one arm. His other hand snakes up my body. Those long, calloused fingers wrap around my throat as he lightly squeezes, hauling me against him while he fucks into me.

A deep groan escapes his lips as he buries his face into the crook of my neck, his warm breath tickling my skin. The rhythm of his thrusts becomes more measured, more deliberate, as he seeks his release.

My walls flutter around him, tightening with every movement, signaling my own impending climax. And with a final, powerful thrust, he comes. My body quivers with the force of it, my fingers clutching onto the bedsheets.

A moment later, I collapse, completely spent and sated.

As we lie side by side, our bodies glistening with a sheen of sweat, his breath ragged, he rasps my name, breaking the silence.

I turn my head toward him, meeting his gaze with a mixture of bliss and contentment. “Hmm?”

“Don’t ever doubt how I feel for you.”

“Okay,” I pant, heart stuttering. “I won’t.”

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