Chapter Nine #2
"That's because you've always been the only thing I could see." His gaze drifts to me again, his expression dead serious. "You know how many times I showed up over the years, just to make sure you saw me, too? Just to make sure you couldn't forget me?"
"I never forgot you," I whisper, my heart in my throat. "No matter how many times you made me angry, I still…" I trail off before the truth slips out—those three little words I feel all the way to my soul. "I still wanted you around," I say instead.
I think he hears what I don't say, though, the words I swallow back.
His eyes darken, his expression unfathomably deep.
His hand tightens around mine like he's trying to keep us right here together.
But I'm not going anywhere. I'm done running.
I'm done fighting. I'm done being anything other than what I was always meant to be: his.
Ten minutes later, he pulls into the packed parking lot of a carnival. I stare at the chaos of the place with wide eyes, a ridiculous smile on my face.
"A carnival?" I ask.
"They were always your favorite. You ate too much cotton candy and were scared of every goddamn ride, but you still begged to go every single time one came to town," he murmurs, backing into a parking spot on the edge of the dusty lot before killing the engine.
"That was a lifetime ago."
"Not that long ago." He grins over at me. "You still fucking love them, Coco. I know you do."
He's right. I do love carnivals.
"They feel like magic," I whisper, unlatching my seatbelt as I stare at the Ferris Wheel slowly spinning people through the night sky. "They just spring up from the ground overnight, give people joy, and then disappear with the rising sun, like they were never there at all."
"Well, then let's go partake in a little of this magic before it disappears," he says. "What do you say?"
"Do I have to ride anything?"
"Uh, hell, yes." He flashes me a half-grin that makes my stomach turn a flip. "I want to hold your hand while you freak out that we're going to die like you did when we were younger."
"I did not freak out," I protest.
"Yeah, you did. It was cute as hell. The damn Ferris wheel wouldn't even be off the ground, and you were panicking. I fucking loved being the one who calmed you down."
My stomach turns another flip. How did I ever think this man was standoffish or that he didn't like me? It seems crazy to think that now. He was always my most steadfast protector. Even when I resented it, he was always right there.
We messed up along the way, and little pieces of who we were got buried, but as he hops out and circles around the truck to help me out, I realize for the first time that they weren't ever lost to us. They've been there all along, just waiting for us to dust them off and learn to wear them again.
He pops open the door and then lifts me from the truck, making sure he slides me down his body until I'm on my feet. I groan softly, stumbling into him, which earns a deep laugh from him.
"Terrorist," I grumble.
"You fucking love it," he retorts, linking our fingers together.
We stroll toward the entrance hand-in-hand and then pass through the gates. The entire lot is a riot of bright colors and loud music, with happy laughter spilling over the top. It instantly brings a smile to my face. I can't remember the last time I went to a carnival.
Trystan buys armbands for both of us, insisting that we'll need them, and then loops an arm around my waist. He keeps me tucked against his side as he leads me toward food vendors, where the smell of sugar and cooking meat permeates every inch of the air.
"Pink?" he asks, glancing over his shoulder at me when it's his turn to order.
"Always pink."
He flashes me that smile—the one that makes me forget anyone else even exists—and then places our order. Within seconds, he's got a giant ball of pink cotton candy in one hand and a turkey leg in the other.
We wander through the carnival while we nibble on the turkey leg and eat way too much cotton candy, just looking at everything. Eventually, he stops in front of a dart game, reaching for his wallet.
"You're going to lose," I tease him.
"I never lose," he says, as if he's mastered whatever trickery these places use to ensure no one ever really wins. He nods at a giant teddy bear hanging from a net. "You're going home with that tonight, Coco."
"If you say so."
"I do."
I stand aside, eating cotton candy while he tries like hell to win that teddy bear. Even when his darts hit the balloons, they just bounce right off half the time. But he just narrows his eyes, focusing, and tries again.
I'm not sure who is more surprised when he actually manages to win—him or the carnie. But the guy hands over the massive teddy bear, and Trystan saunters toward me with a devilish smirk.
"Your prize, princess," he says, holding it out to me.
I grin, shaking my head, and wrap my arms around it. It's soft and fuzzy…damn near as big as I am. He laughs and snaps a photo of me hugging it before we offer it to a toddler in a princess dress and a tiara who keeps staring at it in awe.
She squeals when I place it in her arms, the bear's feet dragging the ground as she races back to her dad's side to show him her new prize.
"You don't mind, do you?" I ask Trystan, just to make sure.
"Nah, baby." He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. "I've wanted to win that goddamn bear for you since I was ten. My job here is finally done. She can have it."
I laugh quietly, grateful for him in ways I can't even explain.
For the next two hours, we eat carnival food, and he drags me on every ride we come across. I spend most of them with my face pressed against his shoulder, shrieking in terror. He spends them with his arm around my waist, holding me tightly.
It's perfect.
Until he pulls me toward the Ferris Wheel.
"No way," I protest, digging in my heels.
His green eyes light up. "Oh, you're getting on it, Coco. Even if I have to carry your pretty little ass on."
"You wouldn't."
"Try me."
I consider my options for a moment. There's not a chance in hell that I'm getting on that Ferris wheel. Hell no. Last time I got on one, I got stuck at the top for half an hour. Do you know how much it sucks to be stuck on top of the world when you have to pee?
"Fine," I lie, already plotting an escape route. "I'll go."
He eyes me suspiciously, not buying my bullshit.
"Well?" I motion with my hand for him to start walking.
Instead, he pulls me into his arms, my chest against his. His lips are an inch from mine, his breath all sugar from the cotton candy. "You really think I'm falling for that?"
"Falling for what?" I blink innocent eyes at him.
"Your bullshit." His nose grazes mine. "You know I'm just going to chase you if you run. And if I catch you, there will be consequences."
Why he thinks this should be a threat when it sounds like a good time to me, I don't know. I hate running, but if running means paying his price, I'll be Usain Bolt in ballet flats.
"Huh," I whisper, lifting up on my toes. "Guess we'll see, won't we, Daddy?" I press my lips to his and then duck from beneath his arm, spinning around. Within seconds, I'm racing through the carnival, dodging people left and right, just waiting for him to catch me.
But he doesn't. I'm all the way through the gates and in the parking lot before I even see him behind me.
He isn't running. He's just slowly stalking behind me with this look on his face that sets my blood on fire.
And that's about the time I realize that I played right into his hands.
We aren't surrounded by people now. We're in the darkest corner of the lot with nothing but cars between us and everyone else.
Crap.
I try to hide behind his truck, squatting down so he can't see me while I catch my breath. But my whole body is on fire, screaming for release.
He comes at me from behind. Before I even realize he's there, he's hauling me into his arms, pressing me up against the truck. My squeal dies against his lips as they crash against mine.
He doesn't kiss me. He consumes me, licking into my mouth like I'm his prize. His hands are all over me, turning my blood to lava.
"You said it again," he growls, nipping at my bottom lip.
I smile against his lips. At least, I try to smile. It gets stuck somewhere when I feel his hand slip beneath my shirt, right above the waistband of my pants.
"Trystan," I gasp.
"Nu-uh," he growls, shifting us around to the far side of the truck, where we're sandwiched between it and a van. Someone would have to walk all the way back here just to see us. "I warned you, Coco. Now, you get to suffer the consequences."
If his hand between my legs is what he calls suffering, I'll gladly pay. He plays me like his favorite instrument, keeping me pinned against the truck with his body while he wreaks havoc on mine.
His thumb swirls around my clit, two fingers inside me. I claw at his wrist, choking on his name. I try like hell to be quiet. Really, I do. But there is no such thing when he's like this—all hot, bossy, and out of control.
"You could have had this on the Ferris wheel," he growls against my skin. "I wanted you soaking my hand while you were on top of the world. But this works, too, baby. Makes it easier for me to fuck the fight out of you in the backseat when I'm done."
I sob his name, pretty sure he means exactly what he says.
"Come," he orders, sinking his teeth into my skin while curling his fingers up at the same time.
God help me, but I splinter apart like my body is his to command. Whimpering, writhing. Breathless.
He doesn't even let me come down before he's bundling me into the backseat of his truck, hauling me beneath him across the seats. Somehow, he manages to slam the door behind him before he's all over me again.
I'm not innocent as I rip at the button of his pants, desperate to get them undone and get him inside me. He tears the crotch out of my leggings to give himself access.
"Fuck," he groans, stilling with his face against my throat once he's all the way inside, stretching me until I feel like I can't breathe.
That first thrust always does it, always feels like heaven.
So does the way he kisses me so sweetly once he's inside, like he's thanking me.
Or maybe it's that he's worshipping me. I'm not entirely sure, but it feels a little like both when he slams into me again and then again.
"Trystan," I gasp, clawing down his back. There's no room to move beneath him on the seat, nothing I can do except take what he gives me. I'm trapped, completely his in every way. And God, I don't ever want to be anything else again. Just this. Just his.
"You sound so sweet choking on my name," he groans, bucking into me hard enough to steal my breath. "I can't wait until we're home and you can scream it." His hand slips beneath my shirt, his fingers seeking out one hard nipple. "I want it raw and broken before you pass out on my cock, princess."
"Oh, God."
"Can't help you here, baby. You gave yourself to me. That makes you mine now. Not even God can take you back." He pinches my nipple, nipping at the shell of my ear as he drives into me again and again. "I'll destroy heaven and hell to keep you right here on my cock if that's what I have to do."
I sob his name, shattering apart at his filthy vow. Because it's him giving it. Because I know he means it. Because I feel the same damn way about him. I don't just love this man. He's part of me, embedded so deeply in my psyche that he'll always have every piece of me—mind, body, heart, and soul.
He grunts a curse, pushing all the way in before he stills. His head kicks back, his expression fierce as he falls apart above me, his cock pulsing as rope after rope of his sticky seed spills into me, making a beautiful mess.
"Mine," he rasps, dipping his head to claim my lips in a deep kiss. "You're fucking mine, Chloe."
"Yes," I whisper back, not even trying to deny it. I am his in every conceivable way.