Lingus

by Mariana Zapata

  "Either way, they can't fire me without good reason," he snickered, pulling into a spot in the parking lot. "I know my law."

  I rolled my eyes and got out of the car, following him through the lot and into the hotel. He put a hand on my shoulder and led me upstairs, unlocking the door to our hotel room and gently pushing me in before him. He went straight into the bathroom while I plopped on the edge of the bed and kicked my shoes off. The water to the shower turned on for a few minutes while I relaxed on the sheets, content to just look out the window. The door to the bathroom was open and when I heard the water turn off, I swallowed hard.

  "Tristan?" I yelled loud enough for him to hear me.

  "Yes?" he responded just as loudly.

  "You told your manager that you quit because of me," I stated.

  Silence.

  "That's not what you told me before," I kept going, swallowing hard again.

  Heartbeats later, his well-defined frame, clad in only boxer briefs, appeared in the doorway. Wet hair askew, he lifted a hand to scratch across the flesh of his chest. "I told both of you the truth."

  Pushing my ass further back on the bed, I frowned. "Both of us?"

  Those long legs with thick, muscular thighs stalked toward me. God, his legs were so long, and even though they were kind of hairy, I really fucking liked it. He was a man; a perfect, fucking man. He leaned over me, using a flat palm to push me against the bed. "It's both," he said in a husky voice, caging me in on both sides with an arm. Those green eyes laser beamed right into me, all heat and masculine, even when he dropped to his elbows bringing that delicious body just a couple inches away from my heaving one. "You're the main reason though."

  "Oh," I squeaked out before he pressed his warm lips against mine.

  Long minutes of slanted mouths, rough tongues, and my hands buried in his soft, wet hair passed by. Fuck, I couldn't get enough of him. He was moaning into me, kissing the corners, flicking on my earlobe, then licking and sucking at the skin of my neck in quick succession. I arched against him, wanting to feel the heat that was radiating from his body directly on mine. He looked at me through heavy-lidded eyes, sensing the movement of my lower body. Tristan raised himself up further away from me so he was on his hands.

  I made a noise that was a strange warp of a whimper and groan as he got on his knees and started unbuttoning my jeans. He didn't ask for permission when he started tugging them down my hips, and finally tossed them behind his back onto the floor or hell, for all I cared. Luckily, I'd come prepared with some of my cutest black, lace boyshorts. When he rumbled deep in his chest at seeing them, I felt fucking awesome.

  "Jesus," he grunted. Big hands spread my legs apart, and even though I should probably have been a little self conscious, I wasn't in the least bit. I looked at Tristan, who was biting his lip and looking at my underwear like they were his last feast before raking my gaze down and seeing it.

  The smooth, pinkish head peeped out from above the black band of his boxer briefs.

  Holy Mother of Christ.

  The outline of him in those poor briefs was the hottest thing I'd ever seen in my life. I could see the general impression of the beast in his underwear and then, I whimpered.

  In no time at all, Tristan lowered his face between my thighs and kissed the soft skin on the sides. "Kat," he said in a low growl. "I want you to watch me."

  I propped myself up on my elbows to look at him.

  He dipped his mouth between my legs, licking me right where I wanted him to through the material of my underwear. I swear the world felt like it shifted when my hips bucked up. His warm, rough tongue lapped at me, first right at my favorite spot, before languidly in long strokes. Then he sucked that special spot with pursed lips, and I couldn't fucking think. I couldn't move. His eyes stayed locked on mine as he moved his head up, and then pulled my panties down my legs so slowly I thought I'd turn twenty-six before he was done.

  As soon as I was naked from the waist down, I yanked my shirt over my head and tossed it on the floor while he watched, slowly resuming his position back where he'd been.

  "You're so pretty, Kat," he murmured, stroking my thighs with his calloused thumbs. He whispered something then about tasting me, but I couldn’t hear very well because angels were rejoicing in my ears.

  With quick but unhurried flicks, he tasted me while I moaned and groaned, pushing my body closer to his mouth. His hands gripped my thighs, keeping them opened as I bucked. If I could think straight, I would've laughed at myself for rhyming, but I didn't think I could even recite my ABCs if I would have been paid a million dollars to do so.

  "You're delicious," he cooed against my wet flesh.

  "Tristan," I panted, arching my back as he passed over me with his tongue one more time. "Oh fuck! Tristan!"

  He groaned louder than I did as I climaxed for what felt like forever. My eyes were pinched tight as wave after wonderful wave clenched my insides. When I was finally able to open my eyes, I found him right where he'd been moments before, smiling smugly. He got up on his knees and scooted over to lay down next to me with his hand gripping my ribcage.

  "You're amazing," I panted.

  "Amazing enough to throw away that stupid Andrew Wood DVD you bought?" he asked with a raised eyebrow, smiling coyly.

  I nodded and licked my lips, making a show of looking down at the pink head that was still peeping out from his boxers. It was fucking on. "Definitely," I took a deep breath and got up onto an elbow. "Remember me telling you about my tongue earlier?"

  For me to say that I was good at oral sex, or that I liked giving blow jobs, would make me feel and sound like a slut.

  With that in mind, I would gladly admit to the fact that I was a slut.

  For Tristan. Ha.

  He grinned in response to my question, this sly, distracted smile that was more focused on my breasts than face. Despite the fact that my only child tendencies made me unable to share things in life with most people, the hot as shit man lying on the bed was not just any person. He'd already proven to me that he was anything but selfish.

  I yanked down the elastic band of his boxer briefs before he had a chance to make the slightest peep in protest and gasped. His pink cock slapped against his stomach angrily. That moment was what I imagined the discovery of the meaning of life would be like: all encompassing, time stopping, and brilliant. The word little had no room in my vocabulary when I was with him naked. I mean I shouldn't have been surprised that every aspect of him was nothing less than perfect and beautiful. This was Tristan. There was no part of him that wasn't immaculate besides two crooked toes that had been broken and not put back into place.

  Unfortunately, I'd seen some nasty dicks in my life both in person and onscreen. Peens that couldn't spell proportionate if they tried; thin, short and thick, crooked, super veiny: there were a million varieties that could constitute my interpretation of an ugly dick.

  This one...

  Would it be too forward for me to immediately put his balls in my mouth? Even his nicely trimmed sack was nice and virile looking.

  I said a silent prayer to whatever holy spirit was watching over me that while Tristan was far better endowed than any other man I'd ever been with, he was not an Calum Burro. My poor vag knew it was in a world of trouble already by his length and girth.

  A warm hand cupped my chin, bringing my focus back to that chiseled jaw I was enraptured with. Dark green eyes gazed at me from across the mere feet that separated us. "What are you doing?" he asked in a hoarse voice.

  "What I want," I told him, my voice sounding way huskier than normal as I pulled his boxers down his long legs and tossed them onto the floor.

  He sucked in a breath and brushed his thumb across my lower lip through heavy eyes. "Fuck Kat," he murmured when I slipped my tongue out to lick the pad of his finger.

  In a second, his thumb was delving into my mouth by the corner and I was sucking it in. His hips twitched, making his long cock bob in the air. I may have drooled just a l
ittle at the sight. The next thing I knew, I was sitting back on my knees and licking him with all the experience I had gained as a kid when I was obsessed with lollipops. I sucked him down as far as I could over and over again, gagging every so often and not giving half a shit when it happened.

  Tristan panted. He moaned. He groaned. His hips bucked with a lack of control I'd never seen from him. Those eyes stayed on my mouth and my tugging hand constantly as his left hand gripped the comforter.

  "Fuck... oh shit..." he grunted out. "Baby, you're so... fuck... oh my fuck... good at...come here..." His free right hand beckoned me to him.

  Not wanting to break our contact, I kept my right hand wrapped around his length. I slipped over him, stroking and tugging at his wet, hard flesh until I was on his right side, hovering over his face.

  Vibrant eyes gazed up at me before his hand wrapped around the back of my head and pulled me down to his lips, kissing me so deeply I completely forgot what my hand was supposed to be doing. His hot tongue stroked mine, over and over again while I tightened my grip and pumped faster.

  "Why are you so... oh.... I'm gonna fucking..." he cried out, bucking those slim hips in the air in time with my hand.

  "In my mouth?" I whispered against his ear.

  His eyes flickered over to mine for the briefest moment in time before he yelled, "Fuck!"

  Muscular arms dropped to the sides resembling a frozen snow angel. His broad chest heaved as he calmed down and my pumping slowed as I tried to ease him out of his orgasm. I smiled, kissed his bottom lip, and jumped off the bed to wash my hands, and then grab a towel to wipe off his splattered abs. When I got back into the room, he was in the same position he'd been in before I left, but as I approached the bed I found that he was grinning with his eyes closed. I cleaned off the ridges of his abs and dropped the hand towel on the floor.

  I couldn't help but glance at his semi-boner in the process. Even half flaccid it was impressive.

  "Stop looking at me," he muttered, opening one apple green eye.

  I snorted, thinking that he, the now retired porn star, wanted me to stop looking at his peen. He wrapped an arm around my shoulders and pulled me down to lay next to him. His dry, warm lips kissed my hair, temple, and cheek. When he scooted down to nuzzle my neck, his hot breath made me break out in goosebumps.

  "I knew it," he whispered and mouthed against my skin. "So much better with you."

  My insides melted a little.

  Chapter 51

  "A little lower."

  "Right there?"

  "Oooh, oh yeah, right there."

  "You're so—"

  "Oh shit, just a little more."

  "You want more?"

  "Yes."

  "Kat—"

  "That feels so good."

  Tristan chuckled as the joint of his thumb made a detour from my shoulder to dig into my ribcage, making me suck in a breath. He nuzzled his nose against the shell of my ear while his large hand continued massaging the aloe vera gel into my sunburnt shoulders. "You sound like such a dirty girl," he whispered, trying not to let the other hundred passengers on the flight overhear us.

  "Shut up," I giggled, tearing my eyes away from the dark night out the window to look at the beautiful man over my shoulder.

  His full mouth was pressed into a large smile highlighting the pink shading that covered the slope of his nose and cheekbones. He looked down and squirted more gel into his hand before spreading the cool substance all over the exposed skin of my shoulders and tops of my arms. Yesterday, after the Epic Suck-Off, as I was calling it, we'd gone to the Page Museum and then driven down to Malibu's Escondido Beach, where I opted not to put any sunblock on. Hence, the reason why I was now suffering. I was in fact an idiot.

  Warm breath blew steadily on the shoulder closest to Tristan before he slipped the travel-sized tube of gel into my purse. "I told you to put on sunscreen, but nooo," he said in whiney voice, trying to imitate me. "I'm fine, I don't burn," he kept going, batting his long eyelashes with a pinched face.

  Asshole.

  I glared at him as best as I could and stayed hunched over. My forearms rested on my knees while I waited for my skin to fully absorb the aloe vera. "I’m fine," I said with a roll of my eyes.

  It had been fine besides the fact that I wouldn't let him sleep anywhere close to me the night before, because my skin felt like it was on fire. Tristan woke me up at the crack ass of dawn to make it to Universal Studios before the park opened. I had to borrow one of his t-shirts, so the material was loose on me and covered almost as much skin as a long sleeved shirt would. He laughed, of course. I looked ridiculous, but I shrugged it off and shoved him when he started smirking at me with those green eyes dancing across the front of the shirt. I felt a little bad, because I knew he'd spent an arm and a leg on our tickets, food passes, and random trinkets.

  My favorite of the random crap he'd bought at the gift shops and booths was a picture of us on the Jurassic Park ride. My hands were in the air and a huge grin was plastered on my face, while Tristan had his hands firmly wrapped around the security bar in front of us, teeth clenched in a horrified grimace, and eyes on me. He claimed his stomach started hurting halfway through the ride. Sure. We'd barely had enough time to make it back to the hotel, shower, and get to the airport in time for our flight.

  His calloused index finger made a hot trail across the forearm closest to him, before continuing its path upward over the tops of my arms to brush the strap of my new Universal tank top. "I'm glad you came with me this weekend, goldie," his deep voice said to me.

  I winked at him, because the weekend had been a ton of fun minus the porn slut and the two girls. "Me too, thanks for inviting me."

  He smiled, this sweet crooked thing that made my heart stutter in its cage of bones. One of his hands reached up to pinch my earlobe between two fingers. "I had a lot of fun," he said. "Even though you squealed like a little girl on each ride."

  I scoffed and shook my head, knowing he was out of his mind. "I'm pretty sure that was you squealing like a pig on each ride, Mister I-Have-An-Upset-Tummy. Pansy."

  "I think you may have hit your head a little hard," he grinned.

  "You're lucky I didn't hit you in the head on Saturday after the convention," I muttered before I realized what I said. It was the truth. I just didn't want to bring up what had happened that day because I knew he was stressed enough about the girls thinking he looked familiar.

  He sighed, wariness filling the specks of gold in his green eyes. "I'm sorry, Kat. I know it's hard to be with me because of Robby..."

  My heart clenched at his words. I felt like a total bitch, because he felt bad for who he'd been and what he'd done in the past. I knew Tristan for all his jokes and sweetness was tender hearted. For years, he had put a block to prevent others from getting into his heart and he'd let me into his life. If I were to reject him, to make him feel bad for his past, I know it would hurt him deeply. Fortunately for him — well for us really — as much as the porn and Robby Lingus bothered me, I couldn't hold it against him. We'd all done stupid things in our past that we weren't exactly proud of.

  Like the video I knew I needed to tell him about at some point.

  Fucking shit.

  "Hey, don't worry about it." I gave him a gentle smile. "It's a little weird but we'll figure it out."

  He pinched my earlobe again. "It's done now at least. You didn't get too upset that day, right?"

  The reminder of what happened Saturday tugged at my nerves. I had never been the jealous type but over the last day and a half, when I'd catch an attractive female looking at Tristan, I'd wonder if he had been with her at some point and couldn't remember doing it. My skin itched. I genuinely had no interest in knowing exactly how many people he had been with before me, not that I technically counted because he hadn't fermented my flower yet. I wasn't naive enough to believe that he was anywhere near my single digit number but the acceptance still ate away at me just a little.

  Each
time I'd even slightly drift off into that train of thought, he would pinch my side, pull my hair, or kiss me. The more time we spent together, the more it became clear to me that he knew my moods. Not even my last longtime boyfriend knew half as much about me as Magellan did. I knew I was overreacting by making those assumptions, but I forgot about them as soon as he started picking on me.

  "I was a little," I squeaked out, keeping my eyes on the finger resting on my shoulder. "I'm fine though."

  Tristan rolled his eyes and leaned closer to me, pink lips just inches away from my own. "You can ask me anything, Kat." The rough pad of his finger traced a line from my shoulder across to my throat, slowly. "I'll always tell you the truth."

  His words wrapped me up in warmth, and I couldn't help the small smile that came across my face. There were very few people in my life that I trusted and I readily believed, but this man was one of them. He cared for me, he was honest with me, and he understood me. Tristan was my easiest friendship. I had no reason to doubt him, and I hoped I never would.