Chapter 28
twenty-eight
T ristan’s fingers dove into my hair, and for a second, I recalled what it felt like to have Angelo’s hand tangled in my blonde strands, but Tristan’s smoldering blue eyes mixed with the sound of his voice banished those horrible, fresh memories. “I need your mouth on mine,” he murmured before reclaiming my lips in a kiss screaming with desperate need. It was as if we needed to assure ourselves we were alive. He might be beyond exhausted, but he had enough energy to make me feel needed.
I did better than just kiss him. His lips alone weren’t enough. I crawled over the seat into his lap, unable to wait for him to get out of the car and take me upstairs. My legs straddled either side of him, his hands steady on my hips as he pulled me close, clinging to me like an anchor. He tasted of mint and something smoky, the combination delicious. And I wanted more.
It might be crazy that my body could light up and buzz after feeling such intense fear, but those high emotions only strengthened the simmering desire between us. Human emotions were complex, and what I felt for this man rated high on the complicated charts.
Our relationship might have started morally gray, but it didn’t diminish my love for him. And if tonight proved anything, it was that I was in love with Tristan, and as much as the words wanted to tumble out of me, I forced them to stay inside, not wanting to scare him off. He’d been clear about our relationship, and I respected his boundaries even if my heart didn’t.
My fingers looped behind his neck, tangling in his hair as I deepened the kiss, slipping my tongue into his mouth, eager to erase the terror we’d endured—to replace it with something romantic and urgent. “I thought I was going to lose you,” I whispered against his lips, my voice breaking. “I thought…”
He pulled me closer, pressing his forehead against mine and breathing me in. “I’m here. I’m right here,” he murmured, voice thick with emotion. His thumb brushed my cheek, the one Angelo had hit, wiping away a tear I hadn’t realized I was shedding. “He won’t hurt you again.”
My eyes closed for a second. The depths he would go to ensure he kept that promise was left unspoken, but I understood. More than he knew because it was the same fierce protectiveness I had for him.
I’d end lives to keep him safe.
The thought should have frightened me. The lengths I’d go for Tristan’s life were scary, but it had the opposite effect. His sheer determination to protect me empowered me. It filled me with a sense of security I shouldn’t have felt, not when the threat lingered.
My breath hitched as I pressed my lips to his jaw, his cheek, anything to ground myself in the reality that he was here, warm, and alive beneath my touch. “Stay with me,” I said in almost a plea. “Promise you’ll stay with me.” I didn’t want him to disappear before I woke up. He had a habit of doing that. “I can’t be alone.”
He cupped my face, his eyes searching mine. “I’m not going anywhere,” he promised, full of quiet conviction. “I won’t leave. Not until you tell me to.”
It was good enough for me.
Sunlight poked through the tree branches hanging over the car as the warm breeze teased the ends of my hair. I bit down on his bottom lip. Tristan’s deep groan swirled into my mouth, and my surroundings were lost to the desire swarming me. I couldn’t care less that I was grinding against him in a parking lot with his top down for anyone to see.
But realistically, I’d seen way worse things on public display on campus.
His hands moved to my backside, squeezing, as his tongue did delicious things inside my mouth, sucking, licking, biting. I moved my hips, rubbing against the bulge pressing into my center, making it very clear he wanted me.
The engine turned off, and the sudden quiet filled with soft moans. I heard his door squeak open but thought little of it, my mind and body too preoccupied to be bothered with anything else.
His lips never broke from mine as Tristan lifted me out of the car, my legs wrapping around him. I didn’t know how far we would get like this, but we needed to make it inside to a bed before things got out of hand. My fingers itched to touch his skin, and although I doubted Tristan would complain if I tore his shirt off, I wouldn’t be able to stop at just his tee.
We both needed to get out of these clothes, just not for the reasons going through our heads. A shower would be bliss. But I also needed Tristan.
Why not have both?
“Shower first,” I said between kisses.
Adjusting his hold on me as we crossed the parking lot, Tristan’s lips twitched. “You do kind of stink.”
I rubbed my nose on his. “I still smell better than that motel.”
A smile cracked on his lips, the silver hoop in his lip glinting under the sun. “There’s still time for us to go back.”
“Put me down before people start staring.”
“Let them stare, Shortcake.”
He carried me until we were inside Thorn Hall, only then setting me on my feet, but his arm remained around me, keeping me close as we stepped into the elevator. A few people were in the common area, but they spared us nothing more than a glance.
Pushing floor three, I sank against the corner of the elevator, putting space between us. Memories of the last time we’d been in the contraption together and how he kissed me flushed my cheeks. I needed a moment to clear my head, but Tristan didn’t have the same idea. The light flashed floor two as his palm slammed on the emergency stop button. The elevator came to a jerky stop, and my hands went to the wall, steadying myself. “What are you doing?”
The look he gave me said more than a thousand words. “Finishing what we started.”
“Your room is only a floor away?—”
He kissed me, his fingers encircling my wrists as he lifted them over my head, pinning me against the wall. “You have no idea how scared I was tonight,” he murmured as his lips cruised along the angle of my jaw, the hardness of his body pressing into mine.
My head tilted to the side, giving him more access. “I know.”
His teeth took my earlobe, nibbling for a second before he said, “You don’t. Leaving you with him was the hardest thing I ever had to do.”
“You didn’t have a choice. Preston needed?—”
His lips brushed over mine, silencing me. “I did it for you.” He didn’t give me a chance to respond as he took full possession of my mouth. The hands holding my wrists glided down my arms, finding the hem of my shirt, and those damn skillful fingers slid under, trailing up my torso. “I thought I would never get the chance to tell you…”
“Tell me what?” I breathily asked, my mind only partly aware of what he was saying. I couldn’t concentrate with the pad of his thumb brushing over my budding nipple. Desire throbbed between my legs, and my fingers made quick work of the button on his dark jeans.
Another growl vibrated from Tristan against my mouth as my nails skimmed over his lower abs. “Are you sure this is what you want, Shortcake? It’s been a long?—”
“Please,” I insisted, voice breaking slightly. “I just...I just need to feel something else. Anything else. Make me forget, Tristan. Please.”
His breath fanned over the side of my neck, and shivers cascaded down my spine. “I can do that.” His voice was filled with dark promises and toe-curling pleasure, his soft lips brushing along the shell of my ear.
He hoisted my shirt over my head, leaving me in my bra. I tugged on his tee, unable to deny myself the sculpted form of his chest. Half of me wanted to spend hours tracing the lines of his tattoos, exploring every glorious inch of him, but the half that was dying to feel him inside me won. There would be other times we could take our time. Now wasn’t one of them.
I stuck my hands into the backside of his jeans, pushing the material down, electricity dancing where my fingers touched. I shimmied his pants farther down, not removing them completely. Before I could skim the edge of his boxer briefs, Tristan dipped his head, his tongue dragging across my aching nipple.
My back bowed against the wall as I moaned, my breasts growing achingly tight. He took the bud into his mouth, and lust pooled in my core. It didn’t feel as if it would take much to send me into orgasmic paradise. His tongue and teeth alone could do the job. I needed him inside me.
He tackled the button on my jeans as I kicked off my shoes, my pants and underwear following quickly behind them in one pass. I couldn’t stop staring at him. Tristan was more muscular than Preston but not bulky. His body was honed and ripped. Clearly, he took care of himself, and I wondered if the hours he spent at the gym were more about working out his frustrations than about staying in shape. Regardless, I could gaze at his physique for hours. My eyes traveled down his body, and I bit my lip at the sight of his dick straining against his boxer briefs, begging me to free him.
He’s fucking remarkable.
Dipping my hand into his boxers, I wrapped my fingers around him, my thumb caressing his silky tip before tightening slightly as I moved, sliding up and down.
He let out a hiss, his ice-blue eyes going nearly black. “Jesus, Shortca?—”
I caught his lips, swallowing the moan that followed. My fingers continued to work over him as he put all of himself into the kiss. The faster I moved, the rougher the kiss grew.
With my palm on his upper stomach, I shoved him to the ground, centering myself above him before lowering so I straddled him. I wanted to be the one in control. I wanted to watch him underneath me as I rode him to the breaking point. I wanted to watch him come undone.
His erection went right to my opening with little help as if it couldn’t wait another second. I agreed, sinking on top of him, and with no resistance from my body, Tristan was inside me.
“God, what are you doing to me?” His teeth scraped over my breast.
I pressed him deeper into me, my warmth soaking around his hard length, eliciting sparks of yearning. “What you’ve been doing to me for years.”
His thrusts matched mine, our bodies synchronizing in perfect harmony as if we’d been intimate for years. As if we were finely tuned to only each other. Perhaps we were. I had no other explanation for how Tristan made me feel. What it felt like to have him deep inside me. He touched my soul. He understood me. He accepted me, flaws and all, unapologetically. Could I ask for anything more?
“Careful, Shortcake, I might think you like me.”
I scoffed. Tristan knew damn well my feelings for him were deeper.
My hands wandered over his chest, memorizing the layout, and I felt his pulse quicken under my touch, mirroring my own. Every kiss, every stroke, was urgent as if we were silently making a promise to cherish every second we had together.
He watched me, and I loved watching him watch me as I moved. The power…it rocked inside me…it was addicting. Like Tristan himself.
I clung to him, my nails clawing into his shoulders as I rode him.
It was the best fucking ride of my life.
Who knew elevators could be so thrilling…or hot?
Over and over again, I lifted slightly and sank onto him, my hips rolling with the movement. His hands splayed at my sides helped set the pace, urging me to quicken. I eagerly obliged, never slowing down.
The lips that tortured me for years tore from mine only to take my nipple into his mouth in another sweet torment. Becoming mad with pleasure, I gasped, his name a choppy, throaty moan. The crescendo climbed so close to the surface that I knew I had seconds before the fireworks exploded inside me.
His release triggered mine with the pulsing of his cock as he drove deeper in me, my muscles clenching tight around him. Tristan tugged me against his chest, his arms secured around me as we rode out the wave of trembles.
How did my orgasm get better with him?
Breathing heavily, I smiled, staring at the man underneath me. “What happened to the shower first?”
Our eyes locked, and a slow smile took over his face. “I couldn’t wait.”
I grinned in return. “Obviously.”
“As much as I would love to stay inside you, I estimate we got less than two minutes before security shows up to check on the elevator.”
“Tristan,” I shrieked, rolling my eyes as I climbed off him, searching the floor for my clothes. I hated to admit I’d utterly forgotten where we were.
He tugged on his jeans, leaving the zipper and button undone. “I didn’t hear you complain. In fact, it seemed as if you rather enjoyed yourself.”
I slipped my shirt over my head as the elevator dinged. The doors parted, and I came face-to-face with a confused redhead. Her eyes moved from Tristan to me as I put one arm into a sleeve and then the other, giving her a flash of my twisted bra and bare stomach. It was so fucking obvious what I’d been doing in the elevator with Tristan. Embarrassment colored my cheeks as I hurriedly adjusted my shirt, but the confused expression on the girl’s face halted my awkwardness. Her flustered state turned to shock and into what I thought was anger.
At me.
What the hell?
Who is this girl?
And what is she doing on my dorm floor?
There were only three bedrooms, and they were taken by Sam, Tristan, and me.
Then it clicked. She was the girl I’d seen with Tristan when I’d moved into Thorn Hall. He’d been seeing her or at the very least sleeping with her.
Tristan forked a hand through his very messily dark hair as he stepped out of the elevator. “Morgan?”
“Let me guess. This is her,” the redhead sneered, pinning me with stink eyes.
All traces of humor left Tristan’s face. His lips turned into a deep scowl, and those frown lines crinkling in the corners of his eyes turned cold. “She isn’t your concern. What are you doing here?” he demanded.
I caught the flash of hurt in her expression before she lifted her chin, firming it with bitter resolve. “Leaving,” she snapped at Tristan before her fiery glare landed on me. “He’s all yours.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I shot back, coming to stand at Tristan’s side. It could have come off as possessive, but I hadn’t meant it to be, at least not consciously because the truth was, seeing her sparked ribbons of jealousy within me.
Her red lips curled in a cruel smile. “It means his dick only gets hard if I wear a pretty blonde wig and let him call me Shortcake.” A satisfying gleam sparkled in the center of her bright green eyes when I flinched at her words. “I see that rings a bell. We can both assume who he fantasizes about.”
Tristan’s brows furrowed, but other than annoyance, he didn’t seem bothered by her scorn. “Morgan, desperate doesn’t look good on you.”
She shook her red hair, fingers clenching at her sides like she was restraining herself from slapping him. “Fuck off, Malone.”
As the elevator door closed, taking Morgan with it, I glanced at Tristan. The expression on his face was fucking priceless, and I couldn’t stop the giggle from coming out of me.
He smiled. “It was over weeks ago,” he explained. “Not that there was anything really between us.”
My back hit the wall, needing it to keep me upright, or I’d crumble to the floor in hysterics. “Clearly,” I mocked. I believed in Tristan’s mind it had been fleeting, but for Morgan, she had wanted to sink her claws into him as so many had before her. Trap the infamous Malone into a relationship. “Did you really make her wear a wig?” I asked, clutching my stomach as the laughter slowly died.
He cleared his throat, threading his fingers through his hair. “Morgan likes to exaggerate.”
I smacked him on the chest. “Tristan, you didn’t.”
The idiot just shrugged, grabbing my wrist and pulling me to his room. “I can’t help that I know what I like.”
What was it about the situation I found funny? I blamed my silliness on lack of sleep and trauma. The last twenty-four hours were catching up to me, but fuck me, I’d needed a laugh. I just hadn’t expected it to because of one of Tristan’s past lovers.
My lips hurt from smiling…among other things. I imagined after my body had a chance to relax I would feel the aches and pains of Angelo’s abuse, something I didn’t want to dwell on, not after what I’d shared with Tristan. I shook the thoughts from my head as he closed the door softly, locking us into the sanctuary of his room. I took a deep breath, feeling the warmth of the familiar space and the comforting scent that was entirely Tristan. The rumpled, unmade bed. The discarded clothes tossed over his desk. It was all him.
I faced the man I loved, backing farther into the room. “What did you want to tell me?” I asked, recalling the words he never finished before my mind and body were utterly consumed by him.
He didn’t let me go far, reaching for my hand and drawing me into him. His eyes held a quiet determination, and without a word, I melted into him like it was the only place I’d ever belonged.
In his embrace, I felt the last of the tension leave him, replaced by something else entirely—something warmer, softer. He buried his face in my hair, inhaling my scent, grounding himself in my warmth, my presence. I leaned back, my hands tracing along his shoulders. His lingering gaze held such tenderness it made my heart ache.
Slowly, almost reverently, he leaned down and brushed his mouth against mine. “I was going to tell you that I love you.”
Emotion clogged my throat, and my heart tripped in my chest. I’d longed to hear him confess these three words to me for years and not as a little sister. That’s where my mind and heart were confused. “I know. I love you too.”
Tristan shook his head as his fingers grazed my cheek. “No. I’m trying to tell you that I’m in love with you, Everly Scott.”