My jaw clenched. I bit down on my tongue to stop myself from spitting a come-back, but Nona said it for me.
“Try acting like it,” she growled as she stood and grabbed her drink off the table.
“What exactly is that supposed to mean?!” my mother gasped, and held both of her hands at her chest, as if the offhand comment had fatally wounded her.
“Oh, I don't know,” Nona went on, downing the rest of her gin. “The basics would be a good place to start. Like being in the same state as your son for more than a weekend every few years, for example.”
I shot Nona a look. The last thing I needed was for her to drunkenly offend my mother and get us cut off from the money when we’d put in so much effort to this whole boyfriend play. But when I looked back at my mother, she was sitting back with a smug grin on her face.
“I'll have you know...” my mother began, then cleared her throat and raised her chin victoriously. “We'll be doing just that. We'll be sticking around. Deck clearly needs his mother right now, to remind him that he deserves more. We'll be here for at least the next week.”
“Uh, we will?” my dad finally spoke, raising his eyebrows. My mother gave him a tight-lipped grin and nodded at him. My stomach turned as he simply shrugged and went back to staring at the ceiling.
“Great!” Nona said, putting her glass down heavily on the table and making a beeline to the kitchen.
“Isn't that great, Deck?” my mother cooed at me.
“Just great,” I said, downing my drink to try to quell the dread that was growing in my chest.
My parents went back to their hotel soon after the big reveal about my mother's plans for them to stick around, and I spent the rest of the night finishing off the bottle of whiskey with Nona.
“She's just so fucking...” she would start to say, and sigh without finishing.
“I know,” I'd agree, and take another sip.
We rambled on like that through most of the bottle and as she poured the last of the whiskey into my glass, Nona declared, “All right! I'm going to paint this out of my system. Don't you dare drive home.”
“I'll run,” I slurred, standing up and wobbling on my feet. “It'll sober me up.”
“You won't. You'd run right into traffic. Stay here,” she insisted.
“Really, I'm fine –” I started, then noticed that the room was spinning a little. “All right, I’ll stay.”
“Tripp's a good one, Deck,” Nona said, pointing at me.
“I know,” I said, blinking slowly and nodding.
“He's a good one.”
“I know, he's a good one.”
“Hold onto him.”
“I know, Nona. I will. Goodnight, Nona.”
“She's just so...” she sighed, and wandered off into the kitchen.
“I know,” I laughed to myself. “I know.”
The next day started with a headache that wouldn't budge, even with Nona's trademarked hangover cure of century old eggs with a glass of ginger ale.
“What do you mean?” she said through a mouthful of her third egg of the day as we sat at the kitchen table. “I went all the way to Chinatown in the city to stock up on these, and you're telling me your headache is still kicking? Maybe you need another egg.”
The thought of another sulfuric, fermented egg was enough to turn my stomach.
“Mm-mm,” I shook my head and held out my hand. “I'm good.”
“You're going to be late is what you are,” Nona said, nodding at the clock above the kitchen door.
“For what?”
“Aren't you making dinner for Tripp?” she said, taking a big gulp of ginger ale.
“Yeah, but – wait, how did you know that?”
She burped and shrugged. “He told me. We text each other. It's no big deal.”
“Oh my god,” I laughed. “What a nightmare.”
“He likes pasta, by the way,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows.
“No shit, he loves your lasagna. I was going to make a stir-fry,” I said guardedly.
She shrugged and took another bite of her egg. “You might want to do pasta.”
“Well, I don't have ingredients for pasta.”
“That's why I'm saying. You're going to be late if you don't go and get some groceries right now.”
“Oh my god, you being besties with my boyfriend is truly a nightmare,” I said, only half-joking and scooting my chair back.
“He likes it with lots of vegetables.”
“Thanks!” I said sarcastically as I stood and grabbed my jacket.
“Don't overcook the pasta like you usually do!”
“Thank you! This is a nightmare! Bye!” I called back as I hightailed it down the hallway.
Shopping with a headache isn't fun. Shopping with a headache and a nagging doubt about your cooking abilities is worse – throw in some occasional hiccups of dread when you remember that your mother who vocally disapproves of your romantic interest is still in town, and you've got one of the worst grocery hauls of all time. I got back to my apartment and unpacked my tote bags to find that I had three different flavors of comfort ice cream but had completely forgotten to buy garlic, olives, and tomatoes.
“Oh, good,” I sighed, and threw open the pantry to scour through what I had.
By the time I heard urgent rapping on my door, I was pretty sure that I had something good bubbling away on the stove - I couldn’t stop myself from sniffing the garlic-rich sauce and tasting it over and over again. I rushed to answer the door, excited to show Tripp what I was making, but I got stopped right in my tracks. As I pulled open the door, my breath left me and my heart pounded – hard. There was nothing unusual or special about how Tripp looked that night, but I felt completely flawed as soon as I saw his face.
“Hey,” he said softly and I watched as his lips parted, then pulled tight together into a happy smile. I couldn't stop myself. I reached out and pulled him into a kiss. I pressed my lips hard against his, grabbed him by the waist, and pulled him against me. The door slammed shut behind him, and we moaned as his tongue slipped into my mouth. His fingers grabbed at my hair and he pulled me harder into the kiss. I yanked him forwards, pushing him even tighter against my body and we moaned together.
“Oh, wow...” I sighed as I pulled back with my arms still wrapped around his waist. “Hi.”
Tripp laughed lightly and ran a hand over the side of my face. “Hey, handsome.”
“I'm glad you're here,” I said, taking in his beautiful face.
“Me too,” he smiled, tickling his fingers through my hair. “What's for dinner?”
“You,” I grinned and snapped my teeth near his neck. He let out a playful squeal and batted me away with both hands.
“Mm, smells.... good?” Tripp asked, rather than said as he sniffed the air.
“Uh, yeah, it is,” I agreed and pulled him into my kitchen. It opened up into my living room and Tripp quickly put his stuff down on the table, then came back to wrap his arms around my waist as I tended to the dinner I'd been working on for hours.
I pulled the lid off the frying pan where I was sautéing vegetables and chickpeas in olive oil and spices.
“Mm, okay, inventive,” he said as he leaned around me to see inside the pot.
“It's how they do it in Italy,” I said.
“Sure it is,” he gave me a peck on the cheek.
“It is!” I insisted, but he was ignoring me while he hummed and grabbed bowls and cutlery out of cabinets and drawers.
“Uh, have you been here before?” I asked, raising my eyebrows.
“Maybe you're just predictable,” he smirked and gave me a wink before turning and sashaying to the table. I tried to think of a comeback but I couldn't take my eyes off his ass.
“This is a cute place, by the way,” he said as he set the table.
“Cute?” I asked, forcing myself to look back at the skillet and gave it a good stir.
“Hm, maybe like... Nouveau Blackwater charming?” he conside
red.
“I have no idea what the hell that means,” I laughed. “But thanks.”
I heard his phone camera snap and I immediately looked up, straight into the lens, and heard it snap again.
“Oh my god,” I laughed. “Don't! I look so rough today.”
“You look cute,” he grinned at his screen, and look another snap.
“Do you mean that I look nouveau Blackwater charming?”
Tripp let out a loud, surprised laugh. The sound of it sent a thrill through my heart. He smiled at me over the top of his phone.
“You know what...” he said, cocking his head to the side as he looked at me with a soft gaze. “Maybe I do.”
“I'll take that as a compliment,” I smiled.
“You should. Let's make it into a hashtag. It'll go viral,” he smirked.
“How do you like your pasta?” I asked as the pot in front of me started to boil over, and I rushed to turn down the heat.
“Mm, al dente... and served with a tomato-based sauce,” Tripp smirked.
I growled playfully, and stabbed a piece of penne in the boiling pot.
“Tell me if this is al dente enough for you,” I said as I held it out to him over the kitchen bench. Tripp leaned forward and blew on the piece of pasta with his eyes never leaving mine. He opened his lips and I slid the pasta in, before he bit down and quickly chomped away at it.
“Mm, perfect!” he said, chewing happily.
“Okay, well, it'll be overdone by the time I drain it, so enjoy that bite while it lasts.”
Tripp laughed and clapped his hands.
I finished off the dish while he got comfortable at the table. I stole glances as I plated up the pasta and watched as he leaned back in the chair, scrolling on his phone, and looking deadly serious about whatever he was looking at. I probably looked deadly serious about what I was looking at too – I felt surprised and wondered why it seemed like he'd been sitting at my dining table forever.
“You know,” he said as he took a bite of the dinner. “This is actually really good.”
“Don't sound so surprised,” I smirked, shoving pasta into my mouth.
“I'm sorry – I just thought I'd be all pasta-ed out after last night's lasagna,” Tripp explained.
“Wait, what?” I asked through a mouthful, then motioned for him to wait while I finished chewing. “Aren't you crazy about pasta?”
“I mean, I like it! But two nights in a row is a lot for me.”
I cleared my throat and took a long drink of water.
“Why? Is there something wrong?” Tripp asked, putting down his fork and frowning.
I laughed and waved him off, “No, nothing's wrong – it's just that a certain someone gave me a tip-off that I should make pasta instead of a stir-fry.”
“Nona?!” he squealed. “Oh my gosh, that old bird told me she was going to mess with our date! I actually was worried it'd be something super dramatic, not sneaky and carbohydrate-y!”
I laughed and rolled my eyes. “She's out of control.”
“She's such a delight,” he smiled, and then caught my eyes. “It runs in the family.”
My stomach clenched at the mention of family. I wiped my mouth with my napkin. “Speaking of out-of-control... relatives...” I cleared my throat. “My mother has decided that she and my dad are going to stick around for a while longer.”
I looked up and caught Tripp wincing, which kicked a laugh right out of me.
He cleared his throat, wiped his hands over his face like he was clearing away make-up and looked at me with a perfectly neutral expression. “Well, that's nice.”
“Mhm, very good news, isn't it?” I grinned.
“Just delightful.”
“Really good stuff,” I agreed.
“I guess our authentic performance didn't have the je ne sais quoi that would have satisfied her high standards,” Tripp sighed and looked down at his food.
“Hey, you did a good job last night,” I assured him as I took his hand. “She would have been just as cruel, no matter what. There's a reason I haven't had a real relationship with them for a long time, and it's not just that they disapprove of my career and my whole entire life.”
“Why, then?”
“Because they're mean!” I laughed, and Tripp let out a short chuckle.
“But I wonder if we would have been more convincing if we were actually faking it?” he looked up at me and a silly grin spread across his face.
“I don't know... I think you would have hammed it up too much,” I chuckled.
“Me?! I've had acting lessons, and I have exceptional stage presence! You're the one who would have messed it up. Fumbled your lines... Frozen up when I touched you.”
Tripp squeezed my hand, then ran his fingers up my arm and caressed the inside of my elbow. A quick buzz of excitement ran through me. There was no freezing – I felt like I was melting. I looked up and wet my lips.
“I'm sorry that your mom is sticking around,” he said genuinely. “But I'll be here too.”
My heart fluttered as he held my eyes and smoothed his thumb over my skin.
“Everything will be okay,” he cooed, moving closer to me. “I'll be by your side the whole time... If you want me to be.”
My wolf kicked in my chest and I leaned forward to press my lips right against Tripp's. I felt lightheaded and overwhelmed – I felt like I might fall right off my chair if I didn't kiss him right that second. His fingers wrapped around my elbow and tugged it towards him as he kissed me back. My heart beat faster and I reached out, grabbed him by shoulders and pulled him closer to me.
“I want you,” I whispered between kisses.
“Then shut up and get me naked,” he smirked before planting another firm, demanding kiss on my mouth.
14
Tripp
Decker held my bottom lip between his teeth as he sucked in fast breaths. He was walking us backwards as I stumbled forward, following him with my hands on his huge, smooth pecs. I felt my wolf clawing to get to him and my cock growing hard, as we made our way toward his bed. Once I felt Decker's calves hit the edge of the mattress, I dug my fingernails into his chest, kissed his neck, and pushed him backward, launching us both onto the bed. He laughed as I fell on top of him and tried not to knee him in the stomach.
“Damn, you work fast,” he breathed.
“I've waited too long to go slow.”
“Well, will you let me savor you a little first?” Deck asked me sweetly, with his thumb resting on my chin.
“Okay, you can take your time with that,” I eagerly agreed, my hands still moving over his chest.
Deck flipped me onto my back and started kissing my neck, licking me up and down from my jawline to my collarbone. First one side, and then the other. I let out a high-pitched sigh. He left a trail of sparking nerve endings in his wake, like phosphorescence glowing behind a motorboat in tropical waters.
“Mmm, keep taking your time. That feels amazing,” I moaned.
“Your skin tastes so good,” Decker said into the crook of my neck. Then he grunted with hunger and grabbed my hips tightly. He started to grind his cock against mine, then pulled away and took a deep breath.
“Taking my time, right...” he reminded himself. “This is hard.”
“You're telling me,” I replied, touching his cock gently with my fingers. It was firm and wide, and the skin was soft and moist. I started stroking it but he pulled it away. I whined in protest.
“I wanna feel it!”
“You will, you will! I want this to last.”
I sighed, “You're so sweet for driving me completely batshit insane like this.”
“You'll get a turn to do the same to me, don't worry.”
“Oh, I'm not worried about that... But you should be.”
He shut me up with a deep kiss, reaching for my throat with his tongue. Having him in my mouth was a mind-blowing teaser that overwhelmed my senses. I sucked at his tongue and ran mine along the sides of it.
<
br /> Enveloped between Decker's soft sheets and his warm body, I began to lose myself. My body trembled as his mouth moved southward and took my left nipple inside it. He swirled his tongue around my sensitive skin and bit it gently, twisting it slightly with his teeth. I moaned into his hair and ran my fingers through it, kissing the top of his head as my hips gyrated the head of my cock against one of his nipples.
Taking my other nipple into his mouth, he sucked it hard and I gasped. I felt muscle spasms move down my torso and into my cock and my legs. Overwhelmed with lust for the hunk that I had pined after for so many years, I growled with urgency.
“My turn. My turn,” I insisted.
This time he agreed to switch without protest. I pushed against his chest again and Deck willingly fell on his back. I started licking his left pec, enjoying its width and girth and the feeling of his growing cock pressed against my right thigh. I squeezed his pec in my hand and alternated between sucking hungrily on his nipple and planting gentle kisses in a circle around it. His deep moans drove me mad for more. I nibbled on his nipple with my teeth as he encouraged me with more sexy grunts and groans. I ran my tongue along his skin to his armpit, where I huffed his scent and kissed the dark hair that grew there. That was intoxicating in a whole new way, and I stayed there longer than I planned to, licking and kissing at his gorgeous bicep before diving back under his arm to fill my nose with him again. He started bucking his hips against me and I felt his cock grow harder and even longer.
“Whoa there, cowboy. I'm not done yet,” I purred.
“I don't know how much longer I can hold off,” he said, holding his cock in his hand.
“Just try for me?” I asked sweetly.
He nodded. I giggled and moved on to his right pec and felt his dick moving against me, slower this time, as I took his right nipple into my mouth. Pleasing him was addictive, and every moan and twitch his body made just spurred me on to show him what I could do. My hands slid from his shoulders down his sides, trailing lightly along his ribs, my fingertips bobbing up and down over the ribs of muscle and bone, before gripping his hips. I kissed my way down his firm, cut abs, licking the grooves between each muscle of his six-pack until I reached a trail of coarse hair below his belly button. His hands ran through my hair, making a mess of it. He eventually pushed some wild strands back behind my ears as I kept moving down his gorgeous body.
Claimed By My Pretend Boyfriend: Blackwater Pack Book Six Page 11