Pinching my nostrils together, I coughed a couple of times and glared at the man sitting across the table. It felt like my heart was going to burst out of my chest. "He's not a movie star, dad. Why would you think that?"
"I checked his Facebook page," he explained with a shrug of his shoulders. The expression on his face reminded me of Nicole's when she thought I said something stupid.
"Why are you stalking his page?" I asked, looking in the direction of the door that led to the bathrooms, to make sure Tristan wasn't walking back.
"A person's profile says a lot about them," I swear to God he rolled his eyes at me. My forty-five year old father rolled his eyes at me. "I just needed to make sure you weren't dating some eyeliner-wearing drill bit, Kitty."
My brain only locked onto one thing he said. "What the heck is a drill bit?"
His hairy upper lip twitched in confusion at the same time one of his thick, dark eyebrows arched. "Isn't that the saying nowadays?"
I frowned, trying to figure out what in the world he was talking about before I realized it and laughed out loud. "You mean a tool?"
Frank slapped the countertop, making his silverware shake. "That's it! A tool! I just wanted to make sure my baby wasn't dating a tool. You see, my friend's daughter was dating a guy who wears eyeliner and thinks that tank tops are appropriate everyday clothing, and there is no way in hell my girl is going to get knocked up by that kind of tool." He had the nerve to wink at the correct use of his last word.
"Oh my god, dad." I wanted to die of shame. Die. Dissolve. Explode. Whatever.
He snickered with wide, dark eyes. "What? It's true!" The deja vu when he happened to repeat things that I was prone to saying was almost too much. Jesus, I really was my father's daughter. I might as well accept the fact that I'd grow up to be a male version of Frank Berger with boobs, embarrassing my kids every chance I got. "His friend asked him a few months ago when he was filming, okay? I saw it on his wall so I Googled his name but nothing came up. I was just curious."
My stomach dropped at how close he came to figuring out that something was going on. I'd call him nosey, but I was pretty positive I'd done the same thing when Nikki had dated her last boyfriend. "I'm pretty sure stalking is against the law." I could see the mess of reddish-brown hair appear by the restroom doors, getting closer and closer by the second. "He's a law student, One Hour Photo. He isn't in any movies."
My dad winced at the mention. He'd made me sit through the movie with him years back and had been terrified to take his pictures to get developed since then. The chances of some employee becoming obsessed with him through his fishing pictures seemed pretty slim, but whatever. "He's a good looking guy, don't blame me for assuming he was an actor."
"Who's a good looking guy?" Tristan's deep voice asked as he pulled his chair out to sit down.
"You are," I laughed when my dad made a face at my answer.
Tristan's cheekbones went pink and he smiled, looking at the man sitting across from me. "Thank you," he hesitated for a split second. "Your beard is... nice."
Then it was Frank's turn to get a little red in the face. "Thank you?" he said, making it sound more like a question than a comment. "Your hair is nice?"
A hand went up to tug at auburn colored hair instinctively. "Thanks, uh, I like your jacket," Tristan responded.
"Thank you?"
Silence.
My dad was looking up at the ceiling while Tristan inspected the clean, white tablecloth. Well this is awkward. "Should I get you two a room together or something?"
Brown and green eyes snapped up to meet mine, both in what I would like to consider a mix of amusement and annoyance. "No," they barked out simultaneously.
"I mean, I can leave if you two want some alone time—," I snorted out before the feel of a warm palm cupping the inside of my leg stopped me cold.
My dad smirked, not noticing the movement of Tristan's hand and shook his head. "I swear I think your mom dropped you as a child. Repeatedly, more than likely. It would make a lot of sense."
"I'm going with repeatedly," Tristan, the traitor, chipped in. "Your skull took most of the impact, I'd say."
Frank nodded in agreement, "Definitely."
I had a feeling I wasn't exactly going to like where this bromance was going.
Chapter 58
"Your ass is getting old, Booger," Josh cackled from his spot next to me while we waited for Zoey to bowl her frame. We had finished our game and were now patiently waiting for everyone else.
Nikki popped her big sandy-colored head between the two of us, using her Goliath-like stature to throw an arm over Josh's shoulder and smirk in my direction. "Yeah bitch, I'm going to start buying you stock in Depends."
"You two—," I said with a mouthful of popcorn Tristan bought while we waited for our lane to open up. "Are like a year older than I am, so shut the hell up."
Nicole, being the absolute lady that she is, shot me the finger without any pretense of trying to be discreet despite the families in lanes close by. "Call me old, and I'm going to start giving you birthday licks again," she threatened me with a wink.
My ass immediately clenched in fear, remembering the horror that was birthday licks courtesy of Nicole Jonasson. I think I would rather let Tristan meet my back entrance sans lube before I'd willingly let Nikki slap my ass. Okay, maybe not. "Please don't," I begged her shamelessly. I'd rather taint my honor than have my ass marred by her brutal, manly hands. Those hands had taken several Krav Maga classes and could beat my ass. They could probably actually beat just about anyone's ass, really.
The bitch giggled, slapping the top of my thigh lightly. "Just kidding, I'll spare you today since you chose me on your team. I didn't want to be paired up with the two worst bowlers in existence," she eyed the two ex-porn stars across the lane, who were busy talking to each other with really animated facial gestures as they pointed at the lane while also looking like complete goofballs.
Josh and I both nodded in agreement because seriously, Calum and Tristan were awful. Those two deserved to have their own YouTube channel dedicated to their lack of skills. Two hot guys who sucked at bowling? Bowling which required them to bend over? Hell. Yes. I think Josh enjoyed watching them more than Nikki and I did.
We'd been at the bowling alley for two hours by then. My dad had left the restaurant to head back to his hotel immediately after we'd eaten, so he could get a good night's rest before his drive the next day. After Tristan and Frank's verbal make-out session, they'd banded together to make fun of me for the remainder of dinner. Honestly, I enjoyed them getting their bromance on even if I was the butt of the jokes. The last thing my dad said to Tristan before we got into the car to head to the bowling alley was "What kind of shampoo do you use?" It was a freaking miracle I didn't pee on myself from how hard I laughed.
Minutes after we left, I could see Tristan's face in my head when we were pulling into the parking lot. A deep frown creased his face while his eyes locked onto my bare thighs. "Wait a second, how are you going to bowl in that dress?"
I couldn't help but snort. "Zoey is bringing me leggings and socks, silly. You thought I was going to let everyone see my butt cheeks?"
"Maybe," he laughed, the same throaty way that made my heart flutter. His right hand inched across the middle console to grasp my knee gently. "I want to see your butt cheeks later," he warned.
A pinch to my bare arm brought me out of my Tristan-driven memory and made me focus on the gray eyes dancing in my line of vision. Zoey was smiling, as sweat coated her forehead, talking so quietly only I could hear her over the blaring music. "Are you having a good birthday, K?"
"A great one," I told her honestly. There was something about dinner with two of the three men in my life that I cared for the most, and then just hanging out with my friends, that seemed perfect.
"What did the wannabe Big Lebowski over there give you?" she giggled.
I looked over at Tristan, who was going up for his last turn. His nice, tight a
ss clenched beneath the charcoal color of his dress pants. "Nothing. Our trip was supposed to be my present, so I'm not really expecting anything." I kept my eyes locked on that big, round butt bending over to throw a ball right into the gutter.
Zoey snickered, flicking me right on the nipple through the thin material of my dress. "I bet you want that snausage wrapped in a pretty pink bow, eh?"
Yelping, I flicked her back where her own nub would be, knowing it was rare that she wore a bra to cover her tiny titties. Zoey winced before smacking my hand away from her. "You little slut, that shit hurt," I laughed even though my poor nipple was throbbing.
Josh leaned into me, grinning. "Want me to do the other one? Even it up and all?"
"Ass, you guys should be rubbing my feet or something since it's my birthday, not flicking my nips." I covered my boobs with my hands so that neither one of them could get another flick in. I wouldn't hold it past them to do it.
"Oh, quit your crying, we already gave you your birthday presents so just suck it up," Josh whined. They'd given me my gifts when we'd first started bowling by way of shoving boxes onto my lap. Zoey had bought me the new straightening iron I'd been eyeing for months, Nikki and Calum gave me two Andrew Wood DVDs much to Tristan's groan of disapproval before giving me new running shoes, and Josh bestowed upon me enough new underwear to save me a month of laundry. Later on, he'd pulled me aside and said I was going to need cute underwear for "daily stuffings," the cheeky bastard explained.
The screen above the lanes started blinking, signaling that our time was up. A collective groan worked its way throughout our small group; shoes were kicked off and purses were grabbed while we filed out. Tristan helped me grab my boxes and put them into his car to head back to his house while I got hugs and kisses from my three closest friends and Calum. "Are you tired, goldie?" his sweet voice asked on the drive.
"Just a little bit."
He reached across the car to squeeze my thigh over the black leggings I had on. "We're almost home," he assured me.
What felt like seconds later, he was pulling into the garage, and then silently carrying my presents inside. I followed him in, making a beeline to let Yoda out of his crate so the big lug could go out to the backyard. "Come on, Yoda," I called out after a couple of minutes. I could see him smelling the shit he'd just taken in the corner of the yard.
"He can stay out there for awhile," hot breath purred against my ear.
A shudder crawled up my spine, across my shoulders, and through my entire nervous system. I felt Tristan's large palms rest on my shoulders then slide down my biceps making me break out in goosebumps. He tugged me backward into the house, kicking the door closed with the toe of his shoe before pulling my back tightly against his hard chest. Fingertips brushed my hair to the side, lips and warm kisses pressed against the curve of my neck and shoulder.
Tristan brushed his mouth higher across my neck, light caresses against the column while his hands wrapped around my wrists. "Happy Birthday," he said into my skin.
I nodded slightly, not knowing how else to respond. It must have been enough of a response because his mouth started a downward trek across the muscle that led to the knot of blue cloth keeping my dress on. His tongue licked across the skin surrounding the material before he let go of one of my hands, bringing his free one up to pull the material to the side and over my shoulder leaving me bare. His mouth continued its lazy mapping of my exposed flesh from shoulder to shoulder, his free hand holding my hip while the other hand stayed wrapped around my wrist.
"Come on," he murmured all husky and thick against my earlobe.
I couldn't think straight as I followed him up the stairs, holding onto him by hooking my index fingers into his belt loops. He knew I was off my period after I'd whispered it into his ear at the restaurant when my dad went to the restroom. His response had been choking on a drink of water. We were in his bedroom then, and he was pushing me onto the edge of the bed, kneeling right in front of me with a clenched jaw. His hands landed on my ankles, creating a path over my legging-covered calves, the bend in my knee, and then ending their journey by slipping into the confined space between my dress and thighs. Higher and higher he went until I felt his fingertips curl into the band while his mouth latched onto mine. The kiss was soft and sweet, a molding of his full lips individually sucking on each of mine.
This man lit me up from the inside out, scorching me with slow kisses on the corners of my mouth, burning something deeper into me than any tattoo ever could. He marked me with an open mouth, wet sucks against the column of my neck that made me whimper. Those long fingers started pulled at the band of my tights and underwear, urging me to lift my hips as he pulled them slowly down my legs, while never losing the contact of his mouth on me.
Then, any control I had was nonexistent. Big hands wrapped around the angle of my knees to spread them before pulling me to teeter off the edge of the bed. A hot mouth nipped at my inner thighs, biting gently on a one-way course to the juncture of my legs. I think Tristan moaned louder than I did when his hands tugged the hem of my dress up and over my ass so that the silky material bunched around my hips.
"Goddamnit, Kat," he groaned before pressing those sweet, plump lips and raspy, long tongue against the center of my body.
I think I sounded like a dog with fucking rabies, planting my arms behind me to hold me up while I sat there on the edge of the mattress. One of my legs was thrown over his shoulder roughly, and the other was being held captive by a hand, a hand that was pressing firmly against it, keeping it spread wide. "Fuck," was the steady chant that slipped out of my mouth while his tongue lapped at me over and over again.
Second after second, he sucked and delved, pulling away for just a brief moment. "I could do this to you all day," he said against my thigh before biting it. "My sweet girl."
"Oh my holy... mother..." Who the fuck says that? The beautiful man between my legs buried his mouth against me again, and the curses coming out of my mouth were anything but sweet. His nose brushed my sensitive flesh, his slight stubble scraping my skin in the most pleasant torture.
Tristan was just as persistent as I was horny, coaxing me through my orgasm a second later with the flick of his tongue against my nerves. When he sat back on his heels, moisture tainting the corners of his mouth and chin, I lost it. I was off the bed and kneeling in front of him with my hands deep in his hair, kissing him like he was everything in life that mattered, tasting myself on him. I couldn't think then to analyze that notion because it wasn't worth any thought. He was everything to me, and I knew that on a molecular level. I craved him more than anything in the world and it went deeper than his skin. It was his smile, his laugh, the stitching of his personality, and the fibers that made him up, that I loved.
His hands reached for my bare ass, cupping and kneading the flesh so erotically I thought I'd die, and I couldn't comprehend anything again. It was his mouth that pulled away first, but I couldn't think before he was dipping his head toward my chest and sucking on my hard nipple through the thin material covering them. "I've wanted to do that since the first time I saw you in this," he muttered before smothering the neglected peak with his hot mouth.
"I said to myself, Tristan, this is your friend," he continued. "Your Kat with perfect, round tits and hard nipples," he moved his mouth again, lapping at the wet material. "I almost touched you, you know that? I thought it would ruin us."
Oh my shit.
I felt hot across my shoulders and chest, listening to his milky voice say those things to me. I remembered everything. His hands were up and just inches from me, teasing me with their movements but he'd remained in control unfortunately. Letting out some kind of twisted moan, I arched my back to get him closer almost like I was offering myself to him. "Nothing is ruined," I somehow managed to pant out.
The hands on my ass squeezed, pulling me flush against him, and then he was standing and bringing me along with him onto the bed. In a flash, my dress was up and over my head, tossed o
nto the floor in a mess of blue silk and wet stains. Tristan leaned over me with his mouth on my chest and hands stroking all the skin within reach.
I was coherent enough to start yanking his shirt out of his pants, undoing his belt, unzipping his slacks, and then finally shoving them down his hips along with his boxer briefs. I sensed him kicking them down his legs but I was too busy trying to get his shirt unbuttoned, and then after practically ripping it off his shoulders along with his undershirt. I touched the smooth expanse of his chest. Hard muscle quivered under my hands as I glided over the ridges of his abs and pecs, smoothing the coarse sprinkling of hairs under his belly button with my thumbs. It was impossible to miss the long, pink cock bobbing in the air begging for my attention.
"You're so pretty," I mumbled without thinking.
I heard him chuckle while he shifted on the bed, brushing his hands over my shoulders, and then down the side of my ribs to grip my hips. "You're the prettiest thing," he said against my ear.
Lingus Page 33