The Elements Series Complete Box Set

by Brittainy Cherry

  “Please,” I begged. I arched my back, longing for his hand to remove the thin barrier.

  “Not here,” he said, lifting me up to a sitting position. He slid my panties to the left and bent down, allowing his tongue to taste my wetness. My hips involuntarily arched in his direction as my hands ran through his hair. When he lifted his head, he rested his mouth against mine, allowing me to taste myself, to taste him. “I want to show you something,” he muttered against my lips.

  Anything. Show me anything.

  My eyes fell to his erection hidden beneath his boxers and a smile came to my lips. He lifted me off the bed and pressed me against the closest door. “How bad do you want it?” Bad, I thought, unable to speak. My heart was racing and I was almost afraid it would give up on me, unable to keep up with my wants, my desires. I wanted to explode for him. I wanted to lose myself to him. His hips rocked toward me as he pushed his hardness against my body.

  “I want to show you the room,” he whispered against my ear, flicking his tongue up and down before sucking my lobe.

  “Mmm,” I replied as he carried me down the hallway. There was a room to my left, which I hadn’t noticed when I’d first arrived. “What is…?”

  He shushed me, placing his hand over my lips. “It’s my green room,” he muttered, pushing the door open.

  “Your what?” Before he could reply, I turned around and saw a room filled with all green furniture. Green whips, green dildos, green everything. “What the...” I shut up and kept looking around. “This is kind of weird, babe…”

  “I know,” he said with a deep tone of voice. When I turned back to him, my throat burned as a scream escaped me. I was staring at a huge, green man who was holding me against his body. His eyes were glowing green and he held me up. “Incredible Hulk wants to smash you!”

  “Holy shit!” I screamed, shaking myself from a very weird, twisted nightmare. Within seconds, Tristan was standing at his bedroom window, looking at me.

  “Are you okay?”

  I looked down to see I was wearing a white tank top with white panties and no bra. I screamed again, covering my chest with a blanket. “Oh my God, go away!” I hissed, freaking out.

  “I’m sorry! I heard you scream and…” He paused and raised an eyebrow, looking into my eyes. “Did you just have a sex dream?” He started chuckling, covering his mouth with his hand. “You just had a sex dream.”

  “Go away!” I said, leaping up from my bed and closing my window shades.

  “Okay, okay, you nasty woman, you. I told you about those books.”

  My cheeks blushed over, and I collapsed back on my bed, pulling the cover over my head.

  Freaking Incredible Hulk. Freaking Tristan Cole.

  20

  Elizabeth

  “You’ve been avoiding eye contact with me all day,” Tristan said as he moved some items around in Needful Things. I sat at the counter, watching Mr. Henson make me an herbal tea mixture. Emma and Zeus were running around on a hunt for random objects in the store. We’d been coming to Mr. Henson’s shop weekly now for tea, hot cocoa, and every now and again a tarot reading. I was beginning to love the place. “You don’t have to be shy about it, I’m pretty sure it happens to everyone,” Tristan explained.

  “What are you talking about? I’m not avoiding you. And I don’t know what happens to everyone because nothing happened to me.” I huffed, totally avoiding his stare. Each time I looked at him I couldn’t stop blushing and imagining his shirt bursting open as he transformed into a beast.

  “It was just a sex dream,” he said.

  “It wasn’t a sex dream!” I vocalized, sounding a little too guilty.

  Tristan turned to Mr. Henson with a smug smirk on his face. “Elizabeth was having a sex dream last night.”

  “Shut up, Tristan!” I screamed, slamming my hands against the table. My face was beet red, and I couldn’t stop it from heating up.

  Mr. Henson looked at me, and then at my tea mixture, and added a few more herbs. “Sex dreams are normal.”

  “Was it a good sex dream?” Tristan badgered me. I was five seconds away from figuring out a way I could beat him up.

  My lips parted to deny the dream, but I couldn’t. My hands cupped my face and I sighed heavily. “We aren’t talking about this.”

  “Come on, you have to tell us now,” he said, walking over to sit on the stool beside me.

  I twisted away from him.

  He took my stool and twisted me back toward him.

  “Oh crap,” he muttered, looking at me with eyes filled with understanding.

  “Shut up, Tristan!” I muttered again, unable to look at him for too long.

  “You had a sex dream about me?!” he hollered, and I slugged him in the arm as a reflex at his words.

  Mr. Henson chortled. “Plot twist.”

  A wicked smile spread across Tristan’s face and it was official: I. Am. Dying! He leaned in and whispered, “Did I do that thing with my tongue to your lips?”

  I blushed. “Which lips are we talking about?” I whispered back.

  His wolfish grin deepened. “You filthy, filthy girl.”

  Pushing myself off my stool, my eyes met Mr. Henson. “Can I get that in a to-go cup?”

  “Oh, come on, Elizabeth, I need to know more!” Tristan said, laughing at my embarrassment. I ignored him and took my tea, which Mr. Henson had transferred to a to-go cup.

  “I’m not talking to you,” I said, moving to leave the store. “Come on, Emma, let’s go.”

  “Just a few more details!” he begged as I held the front door open.

  A heavy sigh left me and I turned his way. “You took me to a green room where you transformed into a green monster and started smashing me around the room. And I mean ‘smashing’ in every possible sense of the word.”

  Blinking eyes. Blinking eyes. Blank stare. Blank stare. “Come again?”

  His paramount confusion almost made me burst into laughter. “You wanted to know.”

  “You’re a really, really odd woman.”

  Mr. Henson smiled. “Ah, the same thing happened to me during the summer of 1976.”

  “You had a sex dream?” I asked, confused.

  “Dream? No, honey. I was tossed around a green room and smashed.”

  Awkward moment number five thousand four hundred and forty-two of my stay in Meadows Creek. “On that note, I’m leaving. Thanks for the tea, Mr. Henson.”

  “I’ll be by to cut the grass later today,” Tristan said.

  I knew there was nothing dirty about his words, but still, I blushed as if there was.

  That afternoon, Faye came over because I wanted her help picking out the best designs and paint colors for Tristan’s house. She always had such a solid eye for the tiny details.

  We sat on the front porch with the three design boards I’d created, but instead of her focusing on the task at hand, she was watching the handsome man cutting my grass. Standing on his feet, helping him push the lawnmower was Emma, who was convinced she could cut grass better than Tristan. She argued with him the whole time, telling him how he was doing a terrible job. He just smiled and sassed her back. Faye stared at Tristan, almost awestruck at his transformation. She hadn’t seen him since he’d cut off all of his hair and revealed his strong bone structure. She also hadn’t ever seen him smile until today. His beard was already growing back in, and honestly I was happy about that. I loved his beard almost as much as I loved his smile.

  “I can’t believe it.” Faye sighed. “Who would’ve ever thought that that wild, dirty hippie, asshole thing would ever become something so…hot?”

  “We’re all a little wild, and we’re all a little something.”

  She turned to me, a silly grin finding her lips. “Oh shit. You like him.”

  “What? No. He just helps around the house. Mostly with the lawn.”

  Her voice took on a loud shout—she had no clue how to whisper. “Are you sure it’s just the lawn? Or does he help unclog your drai
ns too?”

  “Faye! Shut up.”

  “Does he wash your dirty dishes? Your dishes were always so, so filthy.”

  “I’m not doing this with you.” I blushed. “Anyway, I need your input. Which layout do you like the best for the living room and dining room area? I want to incorporate his wood pieces that he makes. Tristan builds a lot with wood and I think—”

  “Is his wood good? Thick? Does Tristan have thick, long wood?”

  I stared at her with narrow eyes. “Is your mind always in the gutter?”

  “Always, babycakes. Always. You like him, though. I can tell.”

  “Not at all.”

  “You like him.”

  With a whisper and a turn of my stomach, I stared at Tristan, who was staring back at me. “Yeah. I like him.”

  “Jesus, Liz. Only you would fall for an asshole dude who ends up looking like Brad Pitt circa Legends of the Fall. Get it?” She smiled. “Legends of the Fall—character’s name was Tristan?”

  “Well, aren’t you clever?”

  “It’s almost ridiculous.”

  I laughed. “Almost.”

  She stepped in closer and studied my face. “What’s that?”

  “What’s what?”

  “That weird goofy grin you’re giving me—holy face full of sex! You slept with him!”

  “What? No, I—”

  “Don’t try to outsmart the sexoholic, Liz. You totally boned him!”

  Like a little girl who’d just gotten her first kiss, I squirmed. “I totally boned him!”

  “Sweet Jesus! Yes!” She stood up on the front porch and started chanting. “YES! YES! YES!!! The drought is over!”

  Tristan turned our way and raised an eyebrow. “Everything okay, ladies?”

  I pulled Faye back down to sit and giggled. “Everything’s fine.”

  “Including that sweet ass of his,” Faye muttered with a smirk. “So, how was it?”

  “Well, let’s just say I gave his thing a nickname.”

  Tears formed in her eyes and her hands flew over her heart. “My little girl is growing up. Okay, what’s the name?”

  “The Incredible Hulk.”

  She cringed. “I’m sorry, what?”

  “The Incr—”

  “No, no. I heard you the first time. You mean that green monster thing? Liz, are you fucking a guy with a green penis? Because if you are, you need a tetanus shot.” She eyed me up and down, cringing. “And higher standards.”

  I laughed. “Can I tell you the truth about Tristan and me without you giving me a scolding?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “We used sex with each other to remember Steven and Jamie. It’s kind of like…we used each other to have the feeling we used to get with them.”

  “You mean you like, envision Steven while Tristan’s screwing you?”

  “Yeah. I mean, well, at first I did. We don’t do it anymore, though. I got way too emotional and couldn’t handle it.”

  “But now you like him.”

  “Yeah. Which is bad, because he was just seeing Jamie when he was with me.”

  Faye’s eyes glanced over at Tristan. “Bullshit.”

  “What?”

  “He sees you, Liz.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Listen, coming from a girl who has slept with a ton of different guys and has envisioned Channing Tatum for most of those guys, I can tell the difference between when a person is thinking about you and when they are thinking about someone else. Look at the way he’s staring at you.”

  I glanced over at Tristan to find his stare, once again, on me. Did he really think about me when we were together?

  And if it were true that he did, why did the idea of that make me so happy? I shook my head back and forth, not wanting to really face the fact of what was happening between Tristan and me. “So what’s the deal with you and Matty? How’s that going?”

  “Terrible.” She sighed, slamming her hand against her face. “I need to break things off with him.”

  “What? Why?”

  “Because like a loser I went ahead and fell in love with him.”

  My eyes lit up. “You’re in love.”

  “I know, it’s awful. I drink every night to try to forget about it. Now shut up and let’s go back to talking about Tristan’s wood.”

  I smiled and after a few hours and about a hundred dirty comments, Faye and I picked out the colors for each and every room in his house.

  21

  Elizabeth

  A few days passed before Sam called me up on Friday to ask if I was interested in hanging out with him. I’d figured he had forgotten he said he would show me around town months before, but I guessed some people were just a little slower getting around to things. On Friday night he pulled up to my house in his family’s work truck. I watched him from the living room window as he hopped out of his truck and fixed his bowtie. He started stepping toward the house, and then he paused and stepped backward. This went on for about five more rounds before he finally made it up the porch, where he debated knocking or not.

  Tristan leaned behind me and studied Sam’s movements. “Ohh, you got a hot date tonight? Is that why you’re wearing that cute little dress?” For the past few days, Tristan had been staying in our guest room since his house was being painted. That night we’d been going over my ideas for his house and I’d been showing him different boards I’d created with ideas for the space. He seemed less than interested, but I was just happy to be doing what I loved once again.

  “It’s not a date,” I said. “Sam just wanted to show me around Meadows Creek a bit, to get me out of the house.” Tristan cocked an eyebrow. “What? What’s wrong with that?” I asked.

  “You do know that he thinks this is a date, right?”

  “What?” I stood up a tad. “No, he doesn’t. He just doesn’t want me sitting around the house.” Tristan gave me a bullshit-it’s-totally-a-date look. “Shut up, Tris.”

  “All I’m saying is I doubt Stalker Sam knows that it’s not a date.”

  “What does that mean? What do you mean Stalker Sam?” I asked, my voice timid. Tristan gave me a wicked grin and started walking away. “Tristan! What do you mean Stalker Sam?!”

  “Ever since he moved into town he has a history of coming on a little strong sometimes, that’s all. I’d watch him follow girls around in town when I would be out running. Did he say where he was taking you?”

  “Yes, and it’s not really a place where dates happen, so I think you’re wrong.”

  “The town hall meeting?”

  “Exactly!” I said, pleased with the idea. “The town hall meeting isn’t a place you take someone you think you’re going on a date with.” Tristan’s lips pressed together as if he was trying to hold in a chuckle. “Stop it,” I argued. There was one knock on the door. “He doesn’t really think this is a date, does he?”

  “I bet ten dollars Stalker Sam leans over to you during Sherriff Johnson’s speech about the town fair and asks you if you want to go down to the barn house where there’s always a fish fry, dancing, and karaoke after the town meeting.”

  “You don’t want to pay me ten dollars.”

  “You’re right, I don’t. But it doesn’t matter, because I’m going to win the bet,” he joked cockily. “Stalker Sam is going to woo you.”

  Knock number two.

  “Stop calling him Stalker Sam!” I whispered, feeling my heartbeats increase. “He’s not going to ask me to the barn house.”

  “You bet money on it?” he said, holding his hand out.

  I shook his hand. “Fine. Ten dollars that this isn’t a date.”

  “Ah, easiest money I ever made, Lizzie.”

  The nickname left his mouth as if it was effortless. When I pulled my hand back from his, I tried not to show how much the simple nickname affected me.

  Knock number three.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “You called me Lizzie.” His eyebrows furrowed
with confusion. “It’s just…no one called me that except for Steven.”

  “Sorry,” he said, nodding a little. “It slipped out.”

  “No, no. I like it.” I’ve missed it. I gave him a small smile. We stared at each other, standing still as if the soles of our shoes were super-glued to the floor. My eyes traveled to the small unfinished tattoo on his left hand, and I forced myself to take it in, instead of his stare; sometimes it was too much looking him in the eyes. “I like it.”

  “Then I’ll keep saying it.”

  Knock number four.

  “You should probably…” Tristan’s head nodded in the direction of the door. I shook my head and agreed, rushing to open the door to Sam, who was giving me the biggest smile and holding a bunch of flowers in his hands.

  “Hey, Elizabeth.” Sam smiled, stretching his hands out to me with the flowers. “Wow. You look beautiful. These are for you. I was sitting out here, and realized I didn’t bring you anything, so, I don’t know. I just picked them from the front of the house for ya.” His eyes moved to Tristan, who was standing a few feet from us. “What’s that asshole doing here?”

  “Oh, Sam. This is Tristan. Tristan, Sam,” I said, introducing the two. “Tristan’s house is being painted, so he’s staying with Emma and me for a few days.”

  Tristan held his hand out toward Sam with his beautiful smile. “Nice to meet ya, Sam.”

  “You too, Tristan,” Sam said warily.

  Tristan patted him on the back, his wolfish grin in full force. “Oh, no need to be so formal with my name. By all means, call me asshole.”

  I giggled to myself. What a jerk.

  Sam cleared his throat. “Anyway, sorry about the flowers. I should’ve thought to grab some from town but—”

  “Don’t worry about it, buddy,” Tristan said, knowing he was making him feel extra levels of discomfort. “How about you come on in and take a seat in the living room while Elizabeth and I find a vase or something to toss the flowers in?”