Chapter Thirty-One
Thirty-One
Michelle
I help Tristan clean up after lunch, feeling comfortably full and more relaxed than I can ever remember being. We share a companionable silence as we work together to put away the few dishes we dirtied.
“I’m glad we talked this morning,” I say, and the admission seems to surprise us both.
He bumps me with his hip, then catches me in his muscled arms to keep me from falling, which makes me laugh and him grin.
“Me too,” he says. “I was going crazy.”
“Crazy?” I repeat, narrowing my eyes.
“Sweet Cheeks, I have wanted you since the day I met you. When you made it clear you weren’t interested—”
I make a small noise of disbelieving protest, and he smacks my butt gently.
“Yeah, that’s right, you shut me down, but I didn’t care, because by then I realized I liked you enough that I just wanted to be your friend, too.
At least, that’s what I told myself.” His arms tighten around me, and I squirm until I’m facing him fully.
“But once I had you outside work, one-on-one…” He trails off, shaking his head with a rueful grin.
“You couldn’t resist my womanly wiles,” I finish for him.
“Yes, you vixen.” He nips at the tip of my nose. “The way you handled that sledgehammer was irresistible.”
“Oh, you like the way I handle big tools?” I ask, waggling my eyebrows and running my hands down his stomach.
I meant it to be funny, but the way he responds, hissing out a breath, his hands fisting in the light material of the overalls—it’s anything but funny.
Suddenly, I’m on fire, his need igniting my own. I rise up on my tiptoes, loving how he makes me feel protected and dainty despite me being five foot ten and anything but fragile. Maybe I should unpack that in therapy, but right now?
Right now, I just want more of it.
Our lips meet in a clash, and I moan as his hands wrap around my ass, kneading the flesh there. I hook one leg around him, and he lifts me effortlessly, kissing me breathless.
“Gonna climb you like a tree,” I huff, and he tilts back his head and laughs.
His hazel-green eyes twinkle as he hefts me higher, and we both groan as I brush against the hard length of his cock.
Just like that, all the humor is gone, and I clench my thighs tighter to leverage myself up. My arms wind around his neck like it’s the most natural thing in the world, my mouth finding his again.
He tastes fresh, like springtime sunshine after a storm.
I break off the kiss, my heart pounding and my chest heaving like I’ve just run a sprint. He presses his forehead against mine, just holding me, just like I want to be held.
“I want you,” I murmur, rubbing the back of his neck with my fingers.
“Thank fuck,” he says, and I burst out laughing as he races from the kitchen, carrying me easily through the house.
He kisses me frantically as he jogs, making me giggle, and then, finally, we’re in his bedroom.
I don’t even care what it looks like.
“I want you,” I moan again, and he scrapes his teeth across my lower lip, making me arch against him.
“You have me,” Tristan whispers, setting me gently down on the bed, like I’m precious and fragile. “I’m yours.”
All the laughter dies on my lips as his fingers make quick work of the knots holding the overalls in place. It takes a quick lift of my hips for them to slide off my legs, and I mentally high-five myself for taking the extra time this morning to exfoliate and shave them.
He holds my bare foot in one hand, his lips brushing against my ankle, and I squirm as he peppers kisses up my calf, my knee, and the sensitive skin of my upper thigh.
“I like the overalls,” he says, jumping on the bed next to me, making me squeal as it sends me slightly airborne. “Easy access.”
“Oh, you think I’m easy, huh?”
He snorts, raising his eyebrows as he rolls over me, kissing the soft roundness of my stomach, my rib cage. “You are anything but easy. But you’re worth all the time I’ve spent wanting you. Every second of it was worth it. Worth this.”
His fingers tickle me gently around my bra band, and I laugh again, wriggling away from him.
“Are you trying to torture me?” I wheeze. “I’m going to accidentally punch you if you keep tickling me.”
Tristan stops immediately. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you didn’t like it.”
“I just would rather have your mouth on me than be tickled.” I push one of his beautiful sunshine-blond locks behind his ear, and his expression heats.
“Is that right?” His voice is rough, darker now, and I stare up at him.
“Yes,” I tell him. “Desperately.”
He holds up two fingers, grinning that divine, devilish grin. “Scout’s honor, I’ll only use these to make you come, not tickle you.”
That makes me laugh again.
He fits his mouth over mine, drinking in the sound of my joy, and I move against him.
How can he feel so perfect against my body? He fits just right.
I’ve always been tall, but it’s like he was made for me. There’s no awkwardness when we reach for each other, no strange angles—we just…fit.
I grab the hem of his shirt, needing his skin against mine, and he does the same. His pants follow, and soon, all that’s separating us is our underwear.
He pauses, his eyes tracing over my skin, over every imperfection, leaving no spot untouched by his gaze. “You are so beautiful, Michelle. So beautiful.”
“You look like a Greek god,” I tell him, because he does, and he should hear it. “I love the way you look at me,” I add.
He beams, and I know it was the right thing to tell him. Slowly, he lowers down, like he’s doing a push-up over my body, and I laugh as he manages to make his pecs dance at the same time.
“Do I want to know how you learned how to do that?” I ask, arching an eyebrow at his impressive display.
“I will have you know”—he kisses me before rolling my body on top of his—“I almost won the school talent show my senior year for my Magic Mike–style performance.”
“Almost?” I ask, running my hands along his chiseled torso.
“Apparently, the parents and teachers didn’t think it was appropriate, and I was robbed of my victory by a ventriloquist act.”
“No way. Is this like that thing where I have to decide which part’s the lie and which part’s the truth?”
“I wouldn’t lie about ventriloquy, Sweet Cheeks.”
“I’m not sure what to think about that,” I tell him, huffing out a laugh.
“I don’t think we should think about that anymore at all, actually,” he purrs. “I have something much more interesting we can think about.”
“Like what?” I ask, knowing I’m egging him on and loving it.
“Like how you taste,” he says.
I go hot all over.
He pauses, tilting his head. His fingers skim across my cheek, pushing a lock of my hair behind my ear. “You like that idea, huh? Been thinking about it since the shower?”
I lick my lips, knowing that if he touches me between my legs, he’ll know exactly how much I like the idea.
I nod, biting down on my lower lip.
He beams, then leans forward, tugging my lip from my teeth as he kisses me.
I pull away, breathless, attempting to roll onto my back so he can get down to business.
“Where do you think you’re going?” It’s a low growl, and it makes my core clench.
“I thought you wanted to—”
“Oh, I do. But I’m going to make you fucking come in my mouth while you sit that pretty cunt on my face.”
“Oh,” I say, feeling a blush crawl up my chest at his dirty talk. “Oh.”
“If you’re okay with that,” he hedges, raising an eyebrow.
“I like when you talk like that,” I tell him, blushing even more furiously.
“You like it when I tell you what to do?”
I nod my head yes, and his grin turns even more wicked. Oof. I could get addicted to that look.
“We’re taking this off first. I need them in my mouth.” He winks outrageously as he easily unclasps my bra. “The perfect appetizer.”
My boobs aren’t anything special—in fact, I’ve always thought the left one was a little bigger than the right—but the way he stares at them, at me, makes me feel like a freaking goddess.
I’m putty in his hands, and I can’t think of a better way to be.
A gasp leaves my lips as his mouth captures one breast, his fingers finding the other nipple.
“No boob left behind,” he says seriously.
I sputter out a laugh as he switches sides, then I moan as the warmth of his mouth encloses the stiff peak he’s made.
By the time he tugs me closer to him, my legs splayed wide across his chest, I’m damp between my thighs.
“I can feel how fucking wet you are,” he says, his hands slipping to the soft curves of my hips as he continues pulling me. “I need you on my face, right now. Climb up here, Sweet Cheeks.”
Tristan tugs down the band of my underwear, and I lift one leg at a time as he easily divests them from me.
Breathless with anticipation, I do as he says, trying not to think too hard about what he’s going to think about this, about me.
“That’s it, Michelle,” he says, his voice thick with appreciation. I let out a soft yelp as he smacks my ass, then grips it firmly.
I look down at him with wide eyes, and he grins at me from between my legs.
“Sit down, hold on to the headboard, and ride my face like a good fucking girl.”
Oh shit.
Maybe I shouldn’t have told him how much I like the way he talks to—
He licks down my center, and I do exactly what he said, grabbing on to the headboard for dear life.
And then some.
“Oh my god,” I moan, and he groans into my core like he’s having the time of his life.
Curious, I glance over my shoulder, and, sure enough, his dick’s at full attention, throbbing in his underwear.
I should have taken those off—
He licks my clit, and I go stiff in shock as pleasure begins to coil inside me. I rock my hips experimentally, and he grunts and does it again with his hands.
When he sucks my clit, I just about explode.
“Oh fuck,” I wheeze. This is so good, even better than the shower or at my house, because I know now, I know how he feels about me, and it just feels so fucking right.
He laughs, and it sends a new kind of sensation through me, lighthearted affection and serious pleasure tangling up inside me until there’s no way one will ever be separate from the other ever again.
I begin to babble as he brings me closer, and closer, losing track of time, losing awareness of everything except the way he’s making me feel.
He slides a finger inside me, then two, and I grind my hips shamelessly, so close. So, so close.
The sharp sting of his palm against my ass as he licks and suckles sends me over the edge, and I cry out his name.
Boneless and still recovering, I barely register him flipping me onto my stomach.
He disappears for a second, or a minute, while my brain tries to fire back up, and I blink blearily up at him in wonder.
“Did you like it?” he asks, a sly, knowing smile on his face.
“Yeah, you could say that,” I tell him weakly.
“Want more?” he asks, and I realize he has a condom in his hand.
My body clenches, and I nod, wordlessly.
“I need you to say it, Sweet Cheeks.” Another light smack on my ass.
I moan, my eyes rolling back. “Please. Yes, I need that.”
A muscle in his temple twitches as his gaze holds me in place, fully naked on his bed. There’s no mistaking the pure pride on his face, and it only fans the flames of my desire hotter.
“How do you want it?” he asks.
“You decide,” I tell him, trusting him completely.
“Damn, Michelle. If I knew you just wanted me to tell you what I wanted, I would have fucking had you so much sooner.”
I moan as he strokes the condom over his hard length, vowing to myself that I’ll make him feel the same way he made me feel soon enough.
“Get on your knees,” he tells me, all rough-voiced and sexy.
I don’t bother questioning, so slick from my release that I’d do just about anything he wanted in this moment.
The bed bounces slightly as he climbs behind me, swearing under his breath.
“Have I told you how fucking pretty you are? Every inch of you is perfect.”
“I need you,” I tell him, pressing my hand into my folds.
“That’s mine.” He nips at my ear, then brings his big, calloused hand to my collarbones, his other hand replacing mine between my legs. “I fucking love how greedy you are for me.”
He circles my clit gently, bringing me right back to that needy keen.
“Do you hear how wet you are for me?” he murmurs.
I don’t answer, instead tilting my face back toward him until his mouth meets mine in a searing kiss. His tongue tangles with mine, and I taste myself on it—which should be weird, but it just makes me want him even more.
“Need you,” I pant.
“Michelle, you have me.” He nudges my knees wider, his hand leaving my clit, the other tightening just slightly around the base of my throat.
The tip of his cock nudges at my entrance, and when his hand goes back to my clit, he circles it once, twice, then drives into me, filling me to the hilt.
“Michelle, this is…” He moves slightly, and we both moan.
His teeth graze my shoulder, and I rock against him, needing him even more than I thought possible.
“You think I waited this long just to last thirty seconds?” he asks, laughter in his voice. “I’m taking my time, Michelle.”
And he does, sliding in and out of me, torturing me with kisses on the back of my neck, his fingers on my clit, that possessive hand still at my neck, whispering praise and curses at equal turns.
When I start to unravel, unable to resist rocking against him, his movements lose that delicious, slow patience, turning frantic.
“Perfect—you’re perfect,” he says, and that’s all it takes to send me back over the edge. “Fuck, you feel so good around me. Michelle, fuck.” He slams into me, both hands going to my breasts, and then he stiffens.
He relaxes against me, then kisses my shoulders, my neck, as he pulls me into his arms and into the most comfortable spoon I’ve ever had.
“Are you okay?” he asks, after who knows how long has passed. I’m just happy to be here.
“I’m way better than okay.”
“Me too,” he says, gently turning me in his arms.
“I’m a mess, though,” I tell him. “I should shower.”
I sling a leg over his hip, snuggling closer.
When he sucks in a breath, his cock getting hard again between us, I rear back, staring down at it before jerking my attention back to his face.
“Again?” I ask, slightly shocked. “Already?”
“If you want,” he says, grinning lazily up at me. “I can’t promise I’ll get off a second time, though.”
“That hardly seems fair,” I say. “Besides, I should clean up—”
He interrupts me, making me laugh as he pushes apart my legs. “I’ll clean you up.”
My amusement changes to moans a few moments later.
There are, it turns out, bonuses to dating a professional athlete.