Chapter 47
Tristan
“Hellooo? Earth to Tristan?”
There’s no hiding my sappy-ass smile when I turn away from the espresso machine to face Reagan. Thing’s apparently made itself a permanent part of my face, so I don’t even try. Not that I give a single fuck who sees it when all I can think about is who put it there. And how.
“You know that shot finished pulling like, a minute and a half ago, right?” She rolls her eyes as she points down at the glass of cooling espresso in my hand. Then she looks up at my face and instantly her smirk turns feral. “Holy shit, you two finally actually fucked, didn’t you?”
At least she’s got the decency to drop her voice so that probably only the lady waiting for her order can hear, instead of the handful of other customers tucked up in chairs around the shop, already sipping their drinks.
“Oh, don’t you try to deny it,” Reagan points an accusing finger at me before I even get a chance to open my mouth. “I can see it written allll over your face. You two fucked and it was gooood.”
“Oh my god,” I groan, dumping the ruined shot before turning to pull another one. Think I’ve kinda forgotten whether I’m supposed to be making a latte or a cappuccino, but there’s still no wiping my smile off my face. Nope. Just not possible.
“Yes, Reagan. Fine. We fucked,” I whisper, way quieter than she was. “And yeah,” I can’t help the way I’m grinning now. “It was totally fucking fantastic, okay?” As in, hands down, the absolute best sex of my life. “Happy?”
“Not as happy as you,” she singsongs, running her eyes over me. I don’t miss the way they linger at the collar of my shirt, where the hickey Jesse left me sits, just a teensy bit too high to be hidden. “How many times?”
Sidestepping Reagan, I head for the counter to snap a lid on the lady’s drink, hoping I’ve gotten it right. She looks like the cappuccino type, so that’s what I went with.
“Cappuccino, right?” I ask at a normal volume. Not that I’d needed to stop whispering or anything. Thanks to Reagan’s lack of quiet skills, hopefully-cappuccino-lady’s been eavesdropping. Not even trying to hide it, by the way, and looking hella judgy too.
The moment she’s gone, with the cappuccino that she apparently did want, thank fuck, Reagan sidles right back up to me. “So was it just once, or—”
“And why exactly is that any of your business?”
“Because I’m your friend. And because Noah’s been gone like, five nights in a row doing clinicals, and I’m horny and pregnant and living vicariously through you.” She flutters her eyelashes at me.
“Why do I feel like you’d still ask regardless?”
All she gives me is a shameless grin.
“Twice,” I give in. “Last night and this morning.”
And nope, I’m totally not thinking now about how I’d woken up to my sunshine all wrapped up around me, rocking his hard as hell cock against my ass—where I could still feel the oh-so-delicious twinge of how well he’d fucked me last night, by the way.
After he’d driven me totally feral for him, kissing and biting all up and down the back of my neck and shoulders—like he knows I fucking love—while he worked me open, he’d finally pushed inside me and fucked me so damn slowly I’d seriously felt like I was going to die from how freaking bad I needed to come. Wouldn’t even let me jack myself off.
Fucker loves making me beg.
Not that I’m not so totally here for it.
He’d kept it up until I’d been a total wreck, writhing and squirming against him while he touched me everywhere except my cock, all over my stomach and my thighs and chest—and ohhh fuuuck, the things he’d done to my nipples—whispering the fucking hottest and sweetest things ever into my ear until I’d blown all over the sheets.
I’ve never come handsfree before, and now Jesse’s gone and done it to me twice in less than twelve hours.
My sunshine’s cock is fucking magical. That or it’s the way he takes his time with me, making sure I’m actually totally ready for him, and then some, not just sticking it in and getting himself off like the assholes I’m used to.
Think I’m kinda gonna go with both as the answer.
Alongside all the way too fucking hot memories of last night and this morning, there’s a whole different can of worms rattling round in my brain though, and when Reagan gives up on me actually spilling any juicy details for her and pulls out her Kindle, probably to get her vicarious sex fix that way, the whole damn thing spills open.
Last night. At Alex’s house.
Jesse’s friends were fantastic. Alex is a total shithead in the best possible way, but take one look at him with Jesse, and you can tell he’d burn the world for his best friend.
So of course that means I love him. Ellie’s super sweet, hella cool, and doesn’t let her husband get away with a single ounce of shit.
And both of them love those adorable little girls of theirs to death.
Just seeing the four of them together, being a happy, normal family, made my chest feel all sorts of achy.
And don’t get me started on how I’d felt when those kids had latched onto me and not let go.
Sure, it was probably just novelty—Mia’s eyes had just about popped out of her little head when she’d seen my tattoos and told me off for coloring on myself.
And then, getting to sit on that cluttery rug with all their toys thrown everywhere like motherfucking pony-confetti?
Feeling like me just listening to them and prancing a couple little plastic horses around on the ground made their damn night? Fuck, that felt—special.
It’s not like I know a thing about kids though, so of course I hadn’t had a damn clue what to do when Sarah accidentally whacked Mia in the face with the horse she was making fly, and they’d both burst into tears.
Alex was up to his elbows scrubbing out the pans from dinner, and Ellie had run upstairs to take a phone call when first Mia then Sarah’s little faces went all red and scrunchy, and then the two of them were bawling their eyes out.
Thank fuck Jesse was there, swooping in in an instant and cuddling them both up in his arms like it was right where they belonged.
With just a couple words, he’d had the girls calming right down.
Hell, Mia was even laughing by the time he let them go.
She’d scooted over to me the moment she was free and parked herself right up beside me while Sarah stayed leaning against Jesse’s side as the two of them scooped their ponies back up.
Jesse’d shot me this look over their heads, this sort of soft, quiet smile that made me feel warm and melty and floaty all at once.
And then there’d been this one, totally fucking crazy moment when I’d wondered if this was what it would feel like in another universe where it was him and me in a house of our own. With a family of our own.
And the way that made my chest feel? Not even gonna go there.
The sound of the door out onto the street opening makes me turn away from the steamer cup I’ve just spent the last fuck only knows how long scrubbing at the sink, and my heart leaps up into my goddamn throat, ‘cause walking through the door is none other than my very own sunshine.
As always, he’s all rumply. Mussed up hair, god-awful sweater—this weird beigy-peach one that does nothing for his coloring—and a crumpled up brown bag that I know has whatever deliciousness he’s brought me for lunch today.
Holy fucking god, he’s the most wonderful thing I’ve ever seen in my life. So unfairly gorgeous and good, it hurts.
I open my mouth to say what I always say. The corny, cheesy as fuck, Hey, sunshine, I always greet him with. Except nothing comes out. Not a damn thing.
“Why hello, Jesse,” Reagan purrs, and for one second, I could kiss her for saving me from my totally pathetic, hearty-eyed, tongue-tied meltdown. Then she has to go and fucking ruin it. “Don’t you look well satisfied today.” She lifts her eyebrows. “Had a pleasurable morning?”
Every last visible inch of Jesse’s skin goes flaming scarlet, and I have to bite my lip and look away to stop myself from remembering how flushed and pink his skin was last night after he’d come. And this morning. When I’d rolled over and run my fingers through his sweat-damp hair—
Fine. Fuck, I tried, okay?
“You’re a menace,” I hiss at Reagan, snatching up the quad soy latte I’d made for my sunshine when he’d texted to say he was on his way over.
“Just pretend she’s not here,” I tell Jesse, pressing up on my toes to plant a kiss on his cheek over the counter.
Don’t think I can handle those lips of his just now…
“Some thanks I get for saving your ass when you messed up that order from the bitchy woman who looked like she was going to murder you over those two pumps of raspberry syrup you put in her vanilla latte,” Reagan fake pouts at me before turning back to Jesse.
“Well, at least it’s good to know that there’s something that’ll snap him out of his own head. ”
She shakes her head as she smirks at him. “Not that it’s all that surprising that you’d be the one that would be able to do it, considering the fact that he’s spent the last two and a half hours daydreaming about all the fun the pair of you have been up to.”
Jesse legitimately chokes on the sip of coffee he’d just taken, forcing me to duck out under the counter to rub his back. Gotta make sure he’s okay, obviously.
Totally not just an excuse to get my hands on him.
Still grinning, Reagan grabs the steamer cup I’d left abandoned in the sink so she can rewash it. Not that it’s not guaranteed that she’s gonna be listening in the entire time until Jesse goes. Girl’s nosy as hell.
“I can’t stay today,” Jesse tells me, as soon as he can properly breathe again. “I’ve got a meeting with my professor in twenty minutes. I’ll see you tonight, though.”
Fuck, but I love that that wasn’t a question.
“Only if you promise to fuck me on the couch,” I whisper, loving the way his whole body goes still as he swallows, slow and hard.
“You lied to me, you know,” I go on, trying to make my voice sound serious as I trace my finger along the collar of his sweater.
“Last night, you said you’d do it next time. And then this morning…no couch.”
“You’re impossible.” Jesse shakes his head, but there’s no missing the smile that tugs at the corner of his lips. Not to mention the sexy-as-hell smolder he’s got going on as he brushes the hair off my forehead.
I lift an eyebrow at him. “You know you love it though.”
Fuck. Shit. That word again— And why did it have to come out all hopeful and breathy sounding?
Fuck, sunshine. Please say something. Just fucking anything, ‘cause I sure as hell can’t.
Too long. Gotta say something—
Except at just the exact moment when I open my mouth to try to fill the awkward-ass silence with anything—
“I do love it, Tris.”
His voice is soft and low, all thick and raspy like he’d had to try way too hard to get the words out. And of course his face has to go all sunsetty-pink all over again.
“I’ve got to go,” he leans in and cups my cheek for a moment, and I don’t even try and pretend like I don’t melt right into his soft, warm touch. “Make sure you eat, okay?”
A quick kiss, a long look that makes my stomach go all crazy with those damn butterflies that just won’t leave me the hell alone, and he’s gone.