Lingus

by Mariana Zapata

  "Fuck," I groaned into the air when he peeled his mouth off me to trail wet kisses across my jawline then neck. "Oh my...." I stuttered out when his tongue moved to lap against my throat before his lips sucked gently on the sensitive skin there. Fucking shit. Fucking shit. Fucking shit. I didn't know what the hell I was doing with my hands at my sides, maybe just opening and closing my fists with each kiss because I was so caught up in him.

  Tristan's hands gripped my hips tightly as he pulled me toward him. I wanted to look at the muscles bunching in his forearms, but it was hard enough to remember to breathe when his mouth latched onto various pulse points on my throat. "So good," he mumbled against my skin, so low that I could barely hear him through the rush of blood in my ears.

  "Holy..." I whimpered some other unintelligible words as he switched sides to kiss the other side of my neck. His big hands tugged at my waist again, trying to get me over and closer to his lap. I let him roll me so I shifted onto my knees, leaning over him slightly.

  One of his hands brushed over my lower back while the other one kept its steady grip on my waist. He was groaning words onto my skin, words I couldn't understand and only partially wanted to. He could've been reciting the alphabet backward for all I knew, or calling me a whore in ten different languages, but when his mouth kept up a trail of open-mouthed kisses across the span of my throat, I heard him groan out my name. My hands had a mind of their own finally and placed themselves on his broad chest for support as he pecked slow kisses on the corners of my mouth like I had done to him just moments before. Warm breath clouded over my flesh as he pulled away with his fingers kneading my hips.

  "Jesus," I whimpered when he left wet kisses across my cheeks.

  I could hear him chuckle softly, "I know," in the huskiest voice I'd ever heard in my life.

  After a moment of trying to catch my breath, I pulled back just a little to look at his face. His eyes were already locked on mine so intensely it felt like he knew the answer to every question in the world. Those long fingered hands slid their way up from my hips, over my ribcage, shoulders, neck, and then face, cupping me gently. That crooked grin spread across his lower face, creating a burst of light that erupted from him. "You are so pretty," he purred, brushing his thumbs over the apple of each of my cheeks.

  I didn't want to say 'thank you' because that seemed too forward, so I smiled at him instead while trying to express through my face how much I just enjoyed the mouth-fuck we'd just shared. He beamed at me in return and exhaled loudly all over my face. It didn't escape me that I should have been happy as hell that neither one of us had eaten the Taco Bell beforehand for fear of having terrible breath but seriously. I totally would have done it again even if he suffered from halitosis, the god-awful breath disease.

  Long moments passed between me sitting up on my knees while he sat straight up, hunched in my direction before we both relaxed against the back of the sofa, keeping our eyes on each other in silence. I had no idea what I wanted to talk to him about since the only thing I could think of was the fact that I had goosebumps all over me. My stomach was in knots — with my luck a gordian knot — trying to accept and come to terms with the last few minutes. It almost didn't feel real. Someone somewhere decided a long time ago that Kat Berger didn't have luck like that, and I'd come to terms with it. The thing was, that this — Tristan and I — felt so real, there was no way it wasn't. The shock that coursed through my veins every time he touched me with his hands or mouth wasn't natural.

  "I'm sorry I didn't tell you before," his rough voice murmured over the silence of the apartment. He had his head resting on the back of the couch while keeping his eyes on me, fingertips grazing mine. "I didn't know how to."

  "I wish you would have," I smiled at him. "I thought you liked me like a sister."

  Tristan snorted just like he had so many times before while solely in my presence, but he didn't bother to try and cover it up anymore which was too perfect. "Not a sister," he said with a laugh. "Definitely not a sister."

  I wanted him, I knew that without a doubt in my head, but I didn't want to be just another notch on the bedpost. He thought I was special before today, and I wanted to keep it that way. The only child gene in me screamed that I wanted to mean something, and I was okay with that. He was going to have to at least try to woo me a bit before the chastity belt came off, especially after all the shit he'd put my poor heart through. Bastard.

  There were so many questions I wanted to ask him. I wanted to ask what this meant because it couldn't be insignificant. I wanted to ask him what he expected after this. How exactly he felt for me. If he quit for me. Why he wasn't buried in me. I wanted to look down and see if he had the boner equivalent of my wet panties. I didn't ask or do any of the things because he scooted over on the couch and slid an arm over my shoulders, pulling me in tightly against his side. Minutes turned into a half hour, and then an hour while we sat there silently. His arm didn't loosen from around me, and I just wiggled deeper into his embrace. Before, it was never like that, occasionally he would put an arm around me randomly or something but this was so different. It would have been like comparing a full moon to a crescent moon.

  We'd figure that out somehow but not today. I wanted to enjoy the moment. I also wanted to make him squirm just a little later on.

  His mouth was tender against my temple at some point. It made me forget all of the questions I had for another day when the moment was less bubbly and warm. When I could feel like I hadn't just won the lottery. "Can I tell you something?"

  I laughed against the thick material of his hoodie. How many times had I not asked him the same exact thing? "You already know the answer."

  He brushed his nose across my earlobe, "I punched the wall because I was pissed off you were going on a date."

  "Oh," was the only thing I could spit out coherently before prying the arm that wasn't around me off the armrest to inspect the tender flesh that he ruined. It was swollen and red, already starting to scab over in a much worse condition than last time; honestly, it seemed like a miracle that it wasn't broken. That didn't stop the smile that I was sporting, though. "Can I tell you something?"

  "Of course."

  "You're an idiot for hurting yourself," I told him with a kiss to the veins right by his knuckles. I gave his skin another kiss. "But I'm so glad you're here."

  Chapter 44

  The next morning I met up with my two bitches for lunch at the deli closest to Nicole's office. The two forces of nature sat together on one side of the booth leaving me all alone on the opposite end. I think they did it on purpose in order to interrogate me more effectively, but you could never really be too certain with those two.

  "Tell us what happened," Zoey said ominously while looking down at her chicken caesar salad .

  I had to snort, because I didn't understand how she could just know something happened the night before. I hadn't been acting any differently, I thought. "Why do you think I have something to tell you?"

  Nikki scoffed before swallowing down a mouthful of turkey sandwich. "You have a stupid smile on your face."

  "I really don't think my smiles are stupid," I rolled my eyes as I took a bite out of the roast beef sandwich on my plate.

  Zoey and Nikki looked at each other with smirks on their faces, and then nodded in unison like mind-reading twins. "Yeah, you do."

  "Tristan came over last night—," I started to tell them before Zoey's high pitched squeal filled the deli louder than any police siren ever could.

  "You slut! You did it with him!" she said way too loudly. The group of businessmen sitting in the booth behind her all turned to look at us with shit eating grins on their faces.

  My face flushed red when the men kept looking over like nosey old bitties until I waved at them, causing them to turn around. "Jesus, I didn't sleep with him, Zo. We just talked. Then made out. Talked some more. Then, we made out again," There was no way in hell I could help the dreamy tone my voice took on as I relived the three times hi
s mouth was glued to mine. I didn't want to think about how he'd gotten so good at using his mouth because that would make me a hypocrite. I wasn't exactly a virgin myself and hadn't been one for some time. Plus, I did kind of kiss Ryan not too long ago. In hindsight, it amused me that there wasn't any tongue involved then, kind of like I was saving some usage up for Tristan. Ha.

  "You little slut," Nikki laughed, leaning into Zoey's much smaller frame. "I told you it would happen soon."

  "I knew it was going to happen, spank you very much. I knew it was meant to be when you said agreed to go on that date yesterday."

  "You went on a date yesterday and didn't tell me?" Nicole hissed.

  "Yes but it doesn't matter, it was with some guy I met at the aquarium," I groaned taking another bite out of my sandwich to avoid answering anymore questions about Kieran.

  "He seemed nice." Zoey interjected with glittering eyes, "What did Tristan say?"

  I was torn between wanting to tell them and also wanting to keep that special feeling between Tristan and me. It almost felt too personal to put into words. I didn't think they'd laugh at me or anything if I were to tell them that we just sat on the couch for a couple of hours with his arm around me while we shared a few kisses but it seemed special. I grinned at my closest friends and shrugged. "He just told me that he thinks of me all the time," I replied as vaguely as possible.

  "I knew it," Zoey said in a sing-song voice.

  Nikki smiled and set down her sandwich. "Now what?"

  "We didn't get that far because I didn't want to push. He likes me, I like him, and we're friends." I knew that there were things we needed to talk about, but I didn't want to rush the questions I had. It wasn't a matter of life or death, or even a deciding factor on the progress of whatever it is we had together at that point.

  Zoey leaned against the leather backing behind her and folded her arms across her tiny chest. "It's just a matter of time before some network makes a television show about us."

  Nicole and I both snorted at her idea before raising an eyebrow at each other over the words that were about to spew out of our friend's mouth. "What kind of show would it be?" Nikki asked, taking the bait.

  "It's going to be called Porn Wives, hello." she mused loudly. "Nikki is going to be the one married to the really popular porn star. Kat, you're going to be the girlfriend hoping to get engaged soon—"

  "Umm, I really don't think—," I started to cut her off.

  A small index finger came up to shush me before Zoey kept rolling with her idea. "I'm going to be the single girl looking for a relationship, and then we have Josh, who can be our oddball in the group because he has nothing to do with porn but we love him anyway."

  Nikki looked at me, her hazel eyes were wide with amusement as a big smirk covered her face. "Well that's settled then. Are you going to start pitching ideas out to networks?"

  "On it," she sang the response.

  "Hold on, you need to wait until Kat puts out. She can't be in the show if she hasn't at least gotten Tristan's dick in her mouth," Nikki cackled.

  One of the men in the table behind us started choking loudly after Nicole's words. I cringed and wanted to die. With my luck, Zoey would scream out my entire name for the world to know that Katherine Alba Berger hadn't had sex or had a dick in her mouth.

  "Oh yeah," Zoey hissed out with a nod. "Are you gonna put it in your mouth soon?"

  "Zo, is the sky blue?" Nicole snorted in a very unladylike manner.

  Chapter 45

  There were very few things that were easy for me. Things like writing, peeing on myself, snorting, wasting time, and spending time with my loved ones came naturally to me. On the other hand, there were other things like peeling oranges, reversing, cutting in a straight line, and meeting strangers that were both difficult and tedious for me.

  Spending time with Tristan, even after our talk the day before, changed things for us but it was still easy as air. When he came to pick me up, he gave me that crooked grin that could make a lesbian's panties wet and squeezed the bare skin of my knee.

  We talked the same way that we always did, but only now there was no doubt that he was a lot more affectionate. He touched my hair, the expanse of skin on my shoulders, and wrapped an arm around my shoulders each chance he got. I ate it all up like a starved animal and did my best to refrain from molesting his bubble butt when he bent over to retrieve the lasagna he made from the oven.

  "You were looking at my ass, weren't you?" he asked smugly with his back to me.

  I guffawed a little too exaggerated to be believable. "No."

  "Tell me the truth," he said, his voice laced with pure smugness.

  "Why are you always fishing for compliments?" I asked, trying to steer away from only inflating his steady ego.

  Tristan looked at me over his shoulder with a playful smirk. "I'd like to know that you appreciate me."

  "Oh my God," I groaned, shifting in the stool that surrounded his kitchen island. "I'm pretty sure I should be the one fishing for compliments not you, jackass."

  "You already know that I think you're the prettiest thing I've ever seen."

  I felt warmth erupt over my cheekbones and ears at his words. Yes, he had told me that I was pretty and cute a few times but not to that extent. I knew I wasn't unattractive, but I was no Nicole either. "Tristan—"

  He turned his entire body to face me, pulling off the manly floral print oven mitts that covered his hands. "I'm serious, Kat," he strode toward me, tossing the mitts onto the counter.

  It should be said that Tristan in the kitchen cooking was one of the most attractive things I had ever seen in my life. A big man with lean, perfectly defined muscles that looked to have been carved from marble, towering over the stove would give a chef a heart attack. Tristan taking off oven mitts was way more sexy than any man I'd ever seen at a strip club with Josh.

  "You don't have to tell me things you think I want to hear," I said to him in a low voice.

  Those light green eyes rolled before he sighed in exasperation, stopping so close to me that our knees touched. "I won't ever tell you something because I think you want to hear it," that silky voice murmured from above me. "You're perfect." He leaned over and pressed his warm, wet lips against mine. My inner whore kicked in, and I opened my mouth to suck his top lip between mine. He moaned and wrapped an arm around my lower back to tug me forward on the stool so my ass hung on the edge. "You have the best tasting mouth," he whispered when he briefly pulled away from me only to dart his tongue back in.

  We took turns exchanging loud groans as the kiss deepened and then lightened over and over again in the most amazing repetitive cycle of all time. His hands were clamped onto my hips, keeping me from falling over or scooting forward because all I really wanted right then was some good grinding action but he was too far away. Yoda's big head pushed at my leg, bringing us both out of the tongue-induced daze we were in. I couldn't help but be glad that Tristan had shaved so he didn't really much more than a little bit of scruff, otherwise my face would be irritated as hell.

  He smiled at me in such a seductive way that I didn't know how I restrained myself from grabbing his hand and dragging him upstairs. He pecked me on the corner of the mouth before he patted Yoda on his big, square head and turned back to face the lasagna he had left on top of the stove. "You're going to be the death of me," he sighed loudly.

  "Shut up," I said while licking my lips to soak up the moisture he left there.

  I got up and took out forks and plates to set on the kitchen island where we usually ate. Filling up two glasses with ice and water, I plopped down and waited for him to finish serving two big slices of lasagna onto plates and adding salad onto the other side. Tristan slid a plate toward me while he sat down. He looked at me and then down, before hooking his foot around the supporting piece of metal between the two front legs of the stool under me, pulling me closer to him.

  We grinned at each other but didn't say anything while we ate in silence. Halfway throu
gh our serving, Tristan started clearing his throat while looking up at me from under those borderline girlish and insanely long eyelashes. "I was thinking..." he trailed off.

  "That's rare," I snorted, only to have him flick my arm in response lightly.

  The minute he opened his mouth to respond, my phone began to ring obnoxiously loud from the living room. I shot him a look before hopping off the stool and running to answer the call before the caller hung up. Fishing it out of my purse, I made a face at the screen when I read 'Kieran' displayed. It's been days since our date, and with the newest and biggest distraction in my life‚ I hadn't given much thought to the cute Irishman. Well, when I thought about it, I hadn't given him a single second of my mind since then.

  Pressing the button to answer the call, I glanced in the direction of the kitchen before speaking. "Hello?"