Becoming Us (COMPLETE)

*Seven*

The SUV pulled to a stop in front of a nice blue house and Tre thanked the driver before exiting the car and reaching back for my hand. I stepped out onto a quiet, residential street and couldn't stop my confusion. This wasn't what I'd expected. For some reason, I'd kept picturing an apartment.

My eyes roamed the small manicured lawn and row of hedges that lined the front of the home. "This is yours?" I asked.

"It is." Tre smiled and pulled me closer, pressing his lips to mine in a sweet kiss before leading me to the front door.

He pulled his keys from his pocket, and I scanned the darkened house and empty driveway. "You live here alone?"

"I do." He opened the door and waved for me to enter first, then pointed across the dim living room filled with comfy looking, puffy gray furniture to the opposite wall. "That's a spare bedroom that I rent out sometimes, but no one's staying there now. My last renter moved out a couple of months ago."

I turned, taking in my surroundings. This home put my current situation to shame. Even through my alcohol-foggy brain, I could see this place was adorable and well looked after.

A bar with a row of stools separated the living room from a decent sized kitchen. Windows covered the front of the house and would brighten the entire main living space during the day.

"Everything okay?" Tre asked as he stood behind me and skimmed his warm palms over my sides, coming to rest at my waist.

I leaned back against him. "Yeah, everything's perfect. Your place is really nice." Tre told me he was a painter, but I never knew painting houses paid so much. I'd assumed we made similar money, but I could never afford this place alone. Tre must not care how much I make. After all, he'd seen where I work.

Maybe I could be a painter? Once, as a kid, Mama and I painted my room pink. It wasn't any harder than a day of waiting tables.

"Thank you." Tre's lips pressed against the top of my shoulder and his kisses moved to the curve of my neck.

Tingles shot through my body, washing away all thoughts of my inferiority. I leaned back against him, resting my hands over his and pulling them higher to cup my breasts. He smiled against my skin, and I hummed in satisfaction as his fingers brushed over my nipples, playfully tugging.

"You feel amazing, Gemma." Tre's breath tickled my ear, and his words caused a shiver that wiggled my lower back against his hardness, making him groan. "I haven't stopped thinking about you since our date."

I remembered thinking about Tre, and my drunk mouth moved before I considered my words. "I thought about you in the shower yesterday." My face heated.

The caresses paused. "Did you?"

I nodded wordlessly, and one of his hands traveled down my side to my hip. The tip of his tongue traced my ear, and he whispered, "What did you think about, exactly?"

"Your hands on me," I spoke softly, as nervousness threatened to take over, but then his breathing became shallow. He enjoyed hearing this, and that made me want to tell him everything.

I threaded my fingers through his. "Touching myself wasn't as good as when you did it, but then I imagined your voice in my ear and the things you said, and..."

"And, what?" He spun me around and lifted my face to stare into my eyes. I couldn't form words. He was so handsome. "Did you make yourself come thinking about us together?"

I shook my head. "I was interrupted."

"Oh, no." Tre palmed my ass and lifted me from the floor. My legs circled his waist automatically, and he smiled. "We can't leave you hanging like that."