CHAPTER 16
Tessa steps out of the shower that night, her tiny NYC bathroom filled with steam from the scalding hot water and she swipes her hand down the mirror. She stares at herself for several seconds, going over the events of tonight, and trying to process them sanely.
Her run in with Joseph was unexpected and unpleasant, but that’s not what has her mind racing. It’s Tristan, of course, because it’s always been Tristan.
Seeing the pure, unadulterated desire in his eyes, hearing his words, his plea for her – she almost gave herself to him on the spot.
But of course, the real world had other ideas and forced them apart due to the strict curfew that Coach Rice puts on his players on a night before a game.
He was especially strict about away games, so both Tessa and Tristan knew the night had to come to an end.
Tessa padded her wet feet towards her bedroom, picking out her favorite pair of light pink sweats and a simple white tank top, foregoing a bra or underwear since she was heading straight to bed, and let out a contented sigh for the first time since arriving back in New York.
Something about taking a shower in her tiny shoebox of a bathroom and slipping on her favorite lounge wear made her feel more comfortable in the place she usually calls home.
After brushing out her hair, she let it hang down her back to air dry, not caring about the unruly curls she knows will come.
She simply does not have the energy to care tonight.
She even skipped skin care, only having it in her to brush her teeth before making her way into bed.
The clock red 10:30, which is early for her, but the team’s curfew was 9, so it wasn’t like she’d be missing much going to sleep already.
She was also hoping that being unconscious would give her some kind of reprieve from her racing thoughts.
Buzz. Buzz.
Okay, scratch that.
Tessa sat up in bed, confusion etched all over her face at who could possibly be buzzing up to her apartment right now.
She swung her feet out of bed and walked to her front door to the call box, hugging her arms tightly around herself, and pushed the talk button.
“Hello?”
“Tessa?”
She froze. That was undoubtedly Tristan’s voice. But it’s way past curfew, he can’t be out right now and shouldn’t even know where she lives.
“Tessa? You there?”
His voice comes through again, and Tessa realizes that she’s been standing there silently for probably a solid minute.
“Trist?” her unsure voice breaks over the intercom.
“Can I come up?”
She takes a step back and looks around her, as if there’s someone else there that can explain what’s happening.
“Taaayylooooorrrrrrrr.”
She jumps at the sound of his voice and takes a step towards the call box.
“Uh, yeah, come up.”
She stands pacing in front of the door, listening with anxiety and thrill coursing through her veins as she hears his heavy footsteps climbing the one flight of stairs and stopping in front of her door, and then his hand knocks three times.
She jumps at the noise despite knowing he was right there and takes a deep breath before opening the door.
He stands in front of her looking downright sinful.
He has stripped from his fancy dinner clothes and is in a pair of grey sweatpants with a simple white t-shirt, a Kansas City Royals hat pulled low over his eyes, and his feet tucked into a fresh white pair of Nike socks that are peeking out from Nike slides.
Like always, he exudes masculinity and does it so casually that it should be illegal.
She notices immediately that he is looking at her with the same eyes.
His gaze runs over her body, particularly the very tight white tank top with no bra, putting her perky and full breasts on display with the slightest color of her pink nipples showing through, so teasingly it almost isn’t noticeable, but Tristan’s cock grows instantly.
Something about her like this makes him feel weak.
She’s clearly freshly showered, not an ounce of makeup, cozy pajamas hugging her supple womanly curves in all the right spots.
She looks comfortable and effortlessly sexy, and it strikes him that this is the true Tessa that he’s been yearning for all these years.
“What the hell are you doing here?” she asks, whispering as if they could get in trouble. “It’s almost two hours past curfew!”
“I know,” he says. “I had to see you.”
“Coach Rice will kick you off the team!”
“No he won’t,” he says, pushing past Tessa and stepping inside.
“And how do you know that?” she asks, shutting the door behind her and crossing her arms over her chest, suddenly very aware of how on display her upper body is. “Are you used to sneaking out to see girls?”
“Fuck no,” he says quickly. “I just know I won’t get caught.”
“I hate how cocky you are.”
“No you don’t.”
They stand there in the silence and darkness of her apartment, sizing each other up, challenging the other to speak first, the silver shine of the moonlight illuminating the space with glittering anticipation.
“How do you know where I live?” she asks, breaking the silence.
“Amber and I exchanged numbers before we left and I texted her.”
“And she gave you my address?” Tessa says, clearly horrified at her friend giving away such personal information.
“Uh, yeah, in fact…” he takes a second to pull out his cell phone from the front pocket of his sweats and holds it in front of his face, the light illuminating his features in a way that makes Tessa’s heart start to pound.
“…She said, and I quote, Please go give her a good dicking, that floppy little British boy wasn’t packing much of a punch, if you know what I mean, end quote. ”
Tessa groans and puts her hands over her face, the intense burn from the blush that is creeping across her skin making her itchy.
“I didn’t respond,” he says dryly, and Tessa removes her hands from her face. “But then she texted again as I was heading over here and said – Tessa let us know multiple times what you were packing. She wanted to measure it but was too shy to ask you.”
“Jesus Christ,” Tessa turns and walks towards the small living area, flopping on the couch dramatically, and taking a throw pillow over her face to scream into. When she’s done, she takes the pillow off and sits up to see Tristan standing at the end of the couch with a shit eating grin on his face.
“It’s nine inches, baby girl. You been wondering that for a decade? When all you had to do was ask?”
“I’m gonna go kill myself now,” she stands, avoiding eye contact, and tries to dodge him by walking around the opposite side of the couch, but his long legs easily meet her and cut off her path, effectively stopping her in her tracks.
“Why are you here?” She asks, throwing her hands up in defeat. “This is exhausting.”
“You’re the one making this exhausting, Tessa,” he says, taking a step towards her, and she takes one back.
“I’m not trying to. I’m just….scared.”
“Scared of what, baby?”
He takes another step forward, and she takes one back.
“My feelings for you,” she whispers, tears stinging the corners of her eyes.
She tries to take another step back, but only runs into the wall, and Tristan instantly plants both of his hands on either side of her head, essentially trapping her.
Her breathing comes out in shallow pants, her full lips parted, and eyes glossed over with an equal mixture of lust and apprehension.
“Tessa, I’m the last person you should ever be scared of,” he says, shaking his head, slowly lowering his face to inch closer to hers. “All I’ve ever wanted to do was take care of you, protect you, make you happy. Do you remember the day we first met? When Coach Adams introduced us in the library?”
Tessa simply nods her head, unable to form words from how close his body is to hers. She can smell his cedar scented body wash and the wintergreen mints he always used to chew on. Seems like he has the same habit 10 years later.
“You were the prettiest girl I’d ever seen. I was obsessed with you from that first day, and guess what? Not a goddamn thing has changed.”
He lifts a hand from the wall and snakes it through her blonde hair that is half wet, half dry, and slowly starting to form the little ringlet curls he loves so much.
He spreads the large expanse of his hand over the nape of her neck, and gives the delicate hair a gentle squeeze, and a gasp escapes her lips beyond her control.
He smiles and leans in to nuzzle her neck, running his nose over the soft skin and inhaling slowly before placing small but open-mouthed kisses all the way down until he meets her shoulder.
Her heart is pounding, her skin feels warm, and she can feel a pulse deep in the core of her womanhood; it might as well have its own damn heartbeat at this point.
“Put me out of my misery, Tessa,” his voice is shaky, but still holds the deep timber that rattles her bones. “I’m starving for you, baby. Been starving since the fucking day you left me.”
His lips make their way back up her neck, to behind her ear, to her cheek, until their noses touch, and lips are merely a breath away.
Her hands are clenched at her sides, her pussy feels hot and aching with an emptiness she knows only he can fill, and he’s not being shy about his own arousal tenting his sweatpants and digging into the soft flesh of her belly.
She slowly unclenches her hands and tentatively lifts them to his abdomen, placing them against his firm body, and slowly sliding up until she reaches his chest. She watches in amazement as his eyes close and his nostrils flair, nearly coming undone by her simple touch that he’s been waiting years for.
“Please, Tess,” he whispers again, waiting, torturously, for her signal.
Her hands grip his t-shirt, and she pulls his body towards her, so that their fronts are completely flushed together.