4. Tristan
TRISTAN
The rooftop was ours.
The last guests had gone an hour ago. The DJ had packed up, the caterer had cleared the stations and hauled everything down the service elevator, and the string lights were still on because neither of us had touched the switch.
The chairs were still out. The peonies were still in the alcove.
The rental company was coming at eight tomorrow morning to break it all down.
For right now, none of it mattered.
Eloise stood at the edge of the pool with her shoes in one hand. She’d taken them off somewhere between the last dance and now, and she’d been barefoot on the warm concrete for the past twenty minutes while we talked about nothing and everything.
The pool was still. Lit from underneath, pale blue against the dark sky. The surface caught the string lights in tiny points of white.
“I’ve never been in this pool,” she said.
“You’ve been on this rooftop for two days.”
“Working.” She looked at me over her shoulder. “I’ve been on this rooftop for two days working.”
“You’re not working right now.”
Something shifted in her face. Not the flush from the dance floor, not the startled look from the stairwell collision. Something quieter and braver than both. She held my gaze, and I watched the decision move through her in real time.
She set her shoes down. Reached behind her neck and found the zipper of her dress. The sound it made coming down was the loudest thing on the rooftop.
The dress slipped off her shoulders and pooled at her feet, and she stepped out of it and walked into the pool without looking back. She wore absolutely nothing underneath the dress.
Holy fuck. She was naked.
I stood there. The woman who’d told me three hours ago that she never took risks, that she was always the one in the earpiece, that she’d coordinated thirty-one weddings and never once been the person at one—that woman had just taken her dress off and walked into a pool naked on the rooftop where she’d spent two days making someone else’s perfect day.
She surfaced and pushed her hair back, water running down her shoulders, and looked at me. Green eyes, steady. Waiting.
I was already pulling my shirt over my head. My pants and boxers followed in a quick, impatient shove, and I left them in a heap beside her discarded dress.
The night air felt electric on my skin as I walked to the edge and slipped into the pool. The water rose around my thighs, then my waist, warm from the day’s heat. Eloise watched me the whole way, her green eyes dark with want.
I moved toward her slowly, the water rippling between us. “You’re full of surprises tonight,” I murmured, stopping just close enough that I could feel the heat of her body cutting through the water.
She gave me a small, breathless smile. “Maybe I’m tired of being predictable.” Her voice was low, teasing, but there was a tremble of nerves underneath it that made my chest tighten.
I leaned in and kissed her. Soft at first—just lips brushing, tasting the faint chlorine and the sweetness of her mouth. I kept my hands at my sides, letting her set the pace.
She sighed into the kiss, then grew bolder. Her palms slid up my chest, exploring the lines of muscle, tracing water droplets over my skin. Her touch was light, curious, sending sparks straight down my spine. I stayed still, letting her learn me while the kiss deepened, turning hungry.
When I finally brought my hands to her waist, fingers settling against her slick, bare skin, she stiffened. Her breath hitched sharply.
I pulled back immediately, searching her face. “Eloise?”
She bit her lip, eyes flicking away for a second before locking back on mine. “I have to tell you something,” she whispered. “I’m a virgin. I’ve never…done this.”
The words hit me like cold water. I took a half-step back, hands dropping away. “Fuck. We don’t have to?—”
“No.” Her hand caught my wrist, holding me there. “I want this. Here. Now. With you.”
I studied her for a long moment, heart hammering. The vulnerability in her eyes mixed with raw desire, and something in me shifted.
I nodded, then kissed her again—deeper this time, pouring reassurance into it.
Our bodies drew closer under the water. Her hands grew bolder, sliding down my stomach until her fingers wrapped around my cock.
She stroked me slowly, experimentally, and a low moan tore from my throat at the perfect pressure.
“Christ, Eloise,” I groaned against her mouth.
Emboldened, I reached between her thighs. She was already slick, warmer than the pool. I slid one finger inside her carefully, feeling her tight heat clench around me. She gasped, hips twitching.
I found her clit with my thumb and stroked in slow, gentle circles, building a rhythm that had her trembling. Her strokes faltered as she chased the pleasure, and I didn’t stop until she came—shuddering hard, a soft cry muffled against my shoulder, her body pulsing around my finger.
I was aching for her. I moved us toward the shallow end and sat on the submerged ledge, the water lapping at my hips. My cock stood hard and ready above the surface.
I reached for her, guiding her closer. “Come here, beautiful. Straddle me.”
She glanced toward the rooftop door, voice husky. “Watch the door. Make sure nobody comes up here.”
“I’ve got it,” I promised, eyes flicking to the entrance before returning to her. No one was coming. It was just us.
She moved over me, knees on either side of my thighs. The head of my cock pressed against her entrance, and she sank down inch by careful inch. Her face tightened with discomfort, a small whimper escaping her.
“Easy,” I breathed, one hand on her hip, the other moving between us. My thumb found her clit again, stroking in firm, soothing circles. “We’ll go slow. Breathe, baby.”
It took time. She was incredibly tight, gripping the head of my cock like a hot, velvet fist as she sank down. The water sloshed softly around us with every shallow movement—wet, rhythmic little splashes that mixed with the quiet, obscene feel of her slick folds stretching around my thickness.
I felt every inch of her resistance, the way her walls fluttered and clenched, fighting to take me. It was pure torture in the best possible way, hot and silky and so fucking tight I had to grit my teeth to keep from thrusting up into her.
“Fuck, Eloise,” I whispered hoarsely against her ear, voice rough with restraint. “You feel so damn good. So tight and warm…your pussy is squeezing me like it doesn’t want to let go. I’ve never felt anything this perfect.”
She whimpered, a mix of pain and building pleasure, but kept lowering herself. Inch by slow inch, her body opened for me until I was buried to the hilt inside her. The water lapped at our joined bodies, making quiet splashing sounds every time she shifted.
Gradually, as I kept circling her clit with steady pressure, the tension in her face melted. Her lips parted on a shaky moan, and the pain gave way to something sweeter.
Her hips began to move—small, careful rolls at first that made the water ripple around her waist. Then she grew bolder.
She started bouncing on me, slowly at first, then faster, chasing the pleasure.
The wet sounds grew louder—the rhythmic slap of water against skin, the soft, slick noises of her pussy riding my cock, her generous tits bouncing harder with every downward thrust.
I couldn’t look away from her—those green eyes half-lidded and glassy with lust, cheeks flushed, wet strands of hair clinging to her shoulders and neck. Her breasts bounced heavily now, nipples hard and glistening, the sight of them combined with the hot, pulsing grip of her cunt nearly undoing me.
“God, you’re beautiful,” I groaned, one hand cupping her ass to help guide her frantic movements while the other kept working her clit.
I kept one eye on the door, the rest of me lost in the feeling of her—hot, slippery, and getting wetter with every bounce.
She rode me harder, faster, the water churning around us in small waves as she chased her orgasm.
Her moans grew breathier, more desperate, until her whole body suddenly seized up.
She came hard, her pussy clamping down around my cock in tight, fluttering spasms, a choked cry muffled against my neck.
The intense squeeze pushed me over the edge right after her.
I thrust up once, twice, burying myself deep as I came, spilling inside her with a low, ragged groan while we both panted and trembled in the warm water.
We stayed like that for a long moment, joined and breathing each other in.
Finally, she settled against my side on the ledge.
The water was still warm around us. The string lights hummed above the pool, and her head was resting against my shoulder, her breathing slow and even.
I had one arm around her waist, holding her against me, and my other hand was tracing a slow line up and down her arm under the water.
She hadn’t reached for her dress. Hadn’t checked the time or mentioned the rental company or the chairs or the breakdown schedule. She was just here. Still. The woman who never stopped had stopped, and she was warm and real against my chest.
“The rental company comes at eight,” she murmured.
“I know.”
“I should set an alarm.”
“I’ll set it.” I pressed my mouth against her temple. “I’ll be here.”
She tipped her face up and looked at me, and the expression on her face was something I didn’t have a label for yet. Not surprised. Not guarded. Open in a way that made my chest ache.
“Come downstairs with me,” she said quietly, like she was testing whether she was allowed to ask.
“Yeah,” I said. “Okay.”
We climbed out of the pool, and I handed her my jacket, the only dry thing between us. She put it on and it swallowed her, the sleeves past her hands, the hem at her thighs. She gathered her dress and her shoes in one arm. I carried the rest of my clothes.
The stairwell was quiet as we headed to the third floor, then her door. Unit 3E.
She unlocked it without letting go of my hand.