Page 1 of Space Oddities

One

No Way

Trish

This is crazy.

The cool metal of the outside of my Airstream trailer presses against me as Ian moves closer.

This is stupid.

His lips trail down my neck, his hands raising mine over my head. I’m pinned in place.

This issogood.

For months I’ve kept Ian at bay. Ignoring his flirting, pretending to be busy or uninterested whenever he asked me out. But tonight at the Big Texas Saloon, while I watched Jackie in Flynn’s arms and Jules and Holt dancing around each other while holding off what we all know is inevitable, Ian slipped through my defenses.

All it took was a drink and a dance, and I knew I’d take him home with me.

It’s my final test.

Ian’s a rich boy. His clothes, his car, his very demeanor screams money. We could have easily gone to his house, which is probably some penthouse or bachelor pad condo, but I brought him to my trailer.

It’s a glimpse of the real me. I can’t tell him everything. I can’t tellanyoneeverything, but I can show him this. I’m not fancy, no matter how I’ve refined my accent over the years. I’m not a lady, no matter how perfectly applied my lipstick is or how high my heels.

I’m trailer trash.

“Trish.” His tongue licks behind my ear, sending goosebumps down my neck, my nipples hardening almost painfully.

My ears are my kryptonite. “Hmmm?”

“Let’s go to my place.”

It takes a minute for his words to penetrate this lust-filled fog I’m in. I had to have heard him wrong. “Excuse me?” I mean, true, he did stiffen when I told him to turn into the trailer park, but I’d hoped it was because he was worried about his car on the dirt lane.

“My place.” His voice is a whisper, blowing where he’s just licked.

Sweet baby Jesus. My pelvic floor clenches, and I swear if he does that one more time I’ll come.

But he doesn’t, so I muster the strength to pull back. “No.” My plain brown eyes meet his piercing blues. “If you want me, you can have me. But here.”

I’m being stubborn. I know. But being here, in my home, is the one thing I have left of therealme. It means something.

His nostrils flare, but otherwise I can’t get a read on his expression. Annoyed? Determined? “Okay.” He nods once, so serious it’s like he’s making a deal with the devil.

It’s insulting. I should grab hold of some pride and tell him to take a hike if he thinks he’s above setting foot in my trailer. Instead, I place my hand over the front of his slacks and rub the thick length of cock underneath it.

Because it’s been solong.

And because it’s Ian.

With a moan, he grabs my hand and pulls me to the door. I make quick work of the locks, and no sooner have I pulled open the door than he spins me inside, backing me up again, this time against my small kitchen counter.

Before I know it, my ass cheeks are resting on the cool laminate, my skirt having billowed out when he lifted me up. His kisses are rough, almost desperate. But I don’t really have time to analyze much as my body has taken over. Using my leg muscles, well-honed from living in nothing less than three-inch heels all the time, I pull him closer, his belt buckle hitting the small piece of fabric of my thong. His head lifts, and his hands smack into the upper cabinets behind me, caging me in.

“Yes…” I clench my ass cheeks, then release, over and over again, rubbing myself against him.

I’m so lost in sensation, it takes a minute to realize he’s gone still. “Ian?”

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