Chapter Twenty-One
KILLIAN
T he light from the TV cast flickering shadows across Trissa’s living room, creating an intimate atmosphere. I tried to focus on the movie we had selected, but her presence next to me was increasingly harder to ignore with each passing minute.
I settled further into the couch, stretching my legs out in front of me, hyper-aware of her. The scent of her—a honey lavender— teased me and stirred up the memories again. The heat of her body called to me, begging me to touch her.
Fuck.
Our new fake dating situation was not going to help me stop thinking of her like that.
“We should talk about what we’re going to do until the gala,” I suggested, concentrating on keeping my tone neutral.
Trissa half-turned her body towards me. I watched her chest rise and fall, and then zoned in on the soft curve of her neck as she tilted her head. When she spoke, she had my full attention. “Okay, so if the gala is our big splash into society, what are the subtle ways we can start piquing other men’s interest before that?”
The mention of other guys hit me like a bucket of ice water. I ground my teeth together, hatred for these unnamed faces bubbling up inside me. God, I thought I despised Peter. But the idea of helping Tris get closer to anyone else made me want to punch a wall. I needed to survive this charade, then cut Trissa out of my life for good once she had a boyfriend.
“Yeah, we’ll make sure people notice,” I managed to force words past my clenched jaw, hoping she didn’t catch the bitterness in my tone.
Tris blinked at me, her expression still uncertain. “So, um, maybe you could send me flowers … ” Her voice trailed off as she waited for a response.
Flowers. Flowers were for unoriginal, uninterested amateurs. I’d do something far better than just flowers. I wanted to shower her with gifts, show her how much she deserved—how much more she deserved than Peter or anyone else had ever given her.
“Killian, if buying me something makes you uncomfortable, you don’t have to do it,” she said softly, edging away from me as she misinterpreted my silence.
Well, fuck it.
Her words snapped me to attention. “I told you I’m all in, and I meant it,” I firmly met her gaze. I had no doubt our plan would work. Other men seeing Tris in a new light—with me— would show them what an amazing woman she was. Not just the assistant or the wallflower, but a beautiful, sexy, smart woman that they would be a fucking idiot not to fall for and knew they didn’t deserve. All it would take was a little competition.
Resentment smoldered within me at the thought of some asshole winning Tris’s heart, someone he didn’t deserve.
But it wasn’t my problem, I reminded myself bitterly. Tris had made her decision and I would help her get what she wanted. And then I’d get what I wanted. For my life to return to normal and to see Tris happy in the type of relationship she’d dreamed about.
“Do you have an online wishlist of things you want?” I asked in an attempt to change the subject.
Tris laughed, the sound playing sweetly in my ears. Like when the perfect song and melody came together.
“Not exactly. But I do have a lot of things in my online cart that I’m saving for later.”
“Show me.” I stuck out my hand, ignoring the spark of electricity that shot through me when our fingers touched in the exchange.
As I scrolled through her saved items in her online shopping cart, I took mental note of her preferences. Books, knickknacks, jewelry—all things that spoke of her personality, her interests. I wanted to buy all of it for her so I could see her face light up with joy.
I handed the phone back to her.
“What about you?” she asked.
“What about me?”
Her nose scrunched. “If you do sweet things for me or buy me presents I should do the same for you.”
My laugh burst forth louder than intended, causing her to frown at me while she pulled the blanket from the back of the sofa over her lap. When my gaze returned to her, she was twisting the blanket between her fingers.
“You’re serious?” I asked.
She nodded. “It can’t all be one-sided.”
I didn’t know how to respond. I couldn’t remember when a woman had gotten me a gift or even asked what I wanted. Or why they would have to. I was the one with the money.
The concept felt foreign and uncomfortable.
I shrugged. “I’m a billionaire. I can get anything I want or need.” The disappointment on her face was palpable, and I immediately regretted my casual dismissal when her intentions had been pure and thoughtful.
“That’s not the point,” she huffed. “Fine, I’ll think of something on my own, then.”
I was curious to see what Tris might think I’d want.
I shrugged and changed the subject. “In a few nights, I planned to meet the guys from the old baseball team at a small club I own. You should come with me. It’ll be a low-key way to show people we’re together before the gala.”
She brightened. “That’s a good idea. I’d love to see them all again. Do you all hang out often?”
I smiled. She had no idea about our monthly meetings. No one did. “We get together whenever we can.”
“Who’s going to be there?” Her eyes sparkled. It warmed my heart that she was excited to see the old gang.
I made a mental note to text the guys and tell them to play nice. “Archer, Jack, and Luke. Trey’s busy. Some big fashion show he’s getting ready for.” I cleared my throat, finding it unusually tight at the thought of our debut as a couple to our old friends. “Going back to what you said before about boundaries … If we’re going to pretend to be a couple in public, we should probably practice.”
Tris hesitated, but allowed me to pull her close. As she settled in against me, fitting herself to my side I had to resist banding my arm tightly around her so there was no way for her to escape. When she let out a soft, contented sigh, my muscles relaxed in answer to it.
Her body was warm and soft. I wanted to keep her tucked in next to me all night long. “Relax,” I murmured, feeling the tension in her muscles. “I don’t bite.” I paused, then added with a smirk, “Unless you want me to.”
Tris chucked softly.
I frowned. This wasn’t like her. The Trissa I remembered always had a quick comeback and was at ease with me. When she wasn’t, her fiery personality told me off. Her ability to speak her mind was one of the things I loved best about her.
Had loved, I reminded myself.
My arm tightened reflexively, my thoughts causing my blood to boil. While she clearly had no problem with putting me in my place, she didn’t do that with Peter. Case in point with that ugly bird brooch. I wanted to shake her, to demand she show everyone the Trissa I saw. Because if she let Peter walk all over her, I wondered who else was allowed to do so.
Tris groaned. “Hey He-Man, you’re going to crush me.”
I loosened my grip, working hard to control my anger for a man who thought of no one but himself.
Needing to accelerate our comfort level and to get my mind away from where it seemed fixated, I yanked the blanket off her. A quick maneuver landed us with my hands under her ass, and I lifted her up onto my lap sideways. Her hands flew out and she let out a squeak of surprise, before regaining her balance and gripping my shoulders hard enough for her nails to dig into my skin, sending a thrill through me.
If I didn’t have a shirt on I had no doubt she would’ve drawn blood.
A traitorous part of me swelled with male pride at her marking me. I had to forcibly push aside the desire to return the favor.
“What are you doing?” she asked breathlessly. She squirmed in my hold. With every brush of her rounded bottom on my thighs, my dick pushed harder against the confines of my pants.
“What do you think, Tink?” I replied, not able to hide the underlying huskiness.
I gently pried one of her hands off my shoulder and caressed the tiny pair of fairy wings tattooed on her wrist. I remembered holding her other hand when this was inked into her skin, forever sealing the nickname I bestowed on her.
My Tink.
I settled my mouth over the black ink before I traced the design with my tongue. The low moan that escaped her pillowy cupid-bow lips nearly undid me. My dick hardened further at the sound, and there was no way to hide the way it prodded at the zipper of my jeans and pressed into her thigh. I ignored the urge to adjust our position so she was draped across me, one leg on either side of my hips, slotting each curve perfectly against me.
Go slow.
“Killian,” she whispered, her voice heavy with desire.
I shifted to press my mouth to her collarbone, just barely visible above the neckline of her t-shirt. I kissed up the column of her throat, taking special care and attention when my tongue licked one particular spot beneath her ear and her breathing stuttered.
She trembled at my touch, her body instinctively trying to close the gap between us. Her arms twined around my neck and her fingers tangled in my hair. Her nails scratched at my scalp, then progressed to gentle tugs as I kissed her jaw. It took all of my self-control not to lose myself in the moment.
Before claiming her lips, I rubbed my thumb along her chin, needing her consent. “Tink, if you want me to stop, you need to say something.” Even though this relationship wasn’t real, the desire between us clearly was. It amazed me to have her respond like this, and it made me ache when I remembered it was all for show.
Her passion-filled eyes blinked open, and she nodded.
“Words, little fairy,” I prompted her.
“Yes, more,” she breathed out, wiggling impatiently in my lap. “Kiss me, Killian.”
That was all the encouragement I needed and I pressed my mouth to hers hungrily. Years of pent-up longing poured into that one kiss. The sensation was overwhelming, and for a moment, I let myself believe it was real.
When Tris deepened the kiss, swiping her tongue tentatively between my lips, I responded with equal fervor and lost myself in her warmth.
Tris whimpered when I pulled back. She tugged the front of my t-shirt as though she didn’t want to let go.
“That’s enough practice for today.” I didn’t want to hurt Tink, and letting ourselves get caught up in this wouldn’t help.
Who was I kidding? I didn’t want to be on the losing end of her feelings again, either.
Confusion flared in her blue eyes, quickly replaced by a hint of … disappointment?
No. Now I really was imagining things.
“Right,” she responded softly, shifting in my lap. “I, um, think we’ve got that part covered.” The movement sent another jolt of need through me, and I had to grit my teeth to maintain control.
“For sure.” I struggled to come up with something else to say. I desperately needed to create distance, yet my hands lingered on her hips. This was going to be harder than I thought it would be.
The weight of her body grounded me. Made me want to keep her there.
I needed her to be on the other side of the couch. STAT. I lifted her off me, the movement jerky, as though my body was subconsciously fighting to keep her where she was.
Tris nodded and scooted as far from me as she could, curling her legs under her and pulling the blanket back up over her lap. “So what now?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
The space between us felt wider than it should have. I gripped the back of the couch to keep myself from yanking her to me to finish what we started.
“Do you think people will believe us?” Her eyes darted to me as though waiting to see my response.
I swallowed hard, pushing down the bitterness so it wouldn’t surface. “Yeah,” I said, rougher than I intended. “They’ll believe it.”
She bit her lip, a tentative smile tugging at her lips. “Good. That’s good. It’s… uh, what I want.” I didn’t know if I heard the upward lilt of her voice as though she was asking it as a question because it’s what I wanted to hear, or what she actually said.
Tris glanced at me, her cheeks still a light shade of pink as she fidgeted with the blanket again. What was she thinking? What did she really think about what just happened between us? Would she want more if I just told her how I’d felt about her in the past?
The uncertainty gnawed at me.
It might appear she was choosing me over Peter for now. There was no doubt once word got out about our ‘relationship’ that Peter would be pissed. An all-consuming sense of satisfaction rippled through me at that. But I wasn’t an idiot who’d repeat the same mistake twice. The second Peter protested a little too much, Tris would walk away from me just like she’d done all those years ago.
Tris’s eyes were wide open, and so were mine. We knew what we were getting into. We’d kissed and would likely do more of that before this sham relationship was over. It wasn’t a big deal.
“We should probably call it a night,” I suggested, even though it was the last thing I wanted to do.
Trissa frowned the slightest bit. “Oh, of course.” She began to push herself off the couch, then stopped abruptly, and fell back to the cushion. She stared at me, nibbling on her bottom lip.
I didn’t like the way she looked at me and wondered if she was about to call off this whole charade.
It might be for the best if she did. Our kiss had not been one between friends, and it was messing with my head. It was probably messing with hers, too.
Good. I hoped it was. I hoped she’d remember that kiss and I hoped it was the best damn kiss she’d ever had.
“Killian … ” She hesitated.
“Yeah?” I scrubbed the back of my neck while I waited for her to say what was on her mind.
“We’re okay. Right?” Her eyes clouded with uncertainty.
Fuck.
The last thing I wanted to do was make her feel like things were off between us.
I leaned toward her and reached out to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. The back of my hand grazed her jaw before resting my palm on the curve of her neck. “Couldn’t be better, Tink.” When the doubt in her gaze didn’t clear, I gave her a genuine smile. One I realized I rarely used. “I promise.”
She leaned into my touch, and her body visibly relaxed. It was so subtle, I wasn’t sure she was aware of it.
“Okay. Good. I should go to bed.” She nudged the blanket off her and stood. “Goodnight, Killian.”
She took a step towards her room, then turned around. “I … My bed’s big enough if you don’t want to sleep on the sofa.”
The mention of her bed with her in it made me think of her long legs wrapped around me while she gripped the sheets as I licked her pussy. Screaming my name as she shook through her first orgasm. I tried to forget about the images in my head and attempted to act normal. “I’m good.”
“Okay. If you change your mind … ” She let the invitation hang and went inside her bedroom, closing the door behind her. I grabbed a throw pillow and the blanket she’d been using, sniffing it like a stalker to take in more of her scent.
I’d never been this sexually frustrated in my life.
And there was nothing I could do about it.