by Kristie Cook
“No! You said you’d never go back.” I lifted my chin and narrowed my eyes, daring him to defy his own words.
“I’ve been wrong all along. I failed with you. I failed at this life. It’s where I belong.”
“But you didn’t fail with me. I’m here, Tristan. I’m here for you!”
He glowered at me. “They sent you, didn’t they?”
“No! I’m here for us. I love you. And I know you love me, too. And that means you did not fail at this life. You belong with me. Stay for me.” I lost the edge as tears burned my eyes.
“How can you say that? You don’t even trust me, Alexis. You can’t love me!”
“But I do, Tristan. I love you. I trust you! You are everything to me.” I stared at him as he glared back with those fiery eyes. Oh, God, please help me. I can’t lose him! I knelt by my bag and pulled the broken frame out. I held it out to him. “Here! This comes from my heart. It still holds true. It always will.”
He ignored it.
I put it on the floor and pulled the note out and waved it. “Your letter! I cried over it for days. You said you wanted me back. I’m here!”
No reaction. I pled my love to a boulder.
“Please, Tristan,” I begged. “Please listen to me.”
I wiped the tears out of my eyes with the heel of my palm. His eyes narrowed, but he didn’t budge. I pulled the manuscript out of the bag and held the folder open.
“My novel. I want you to be the first to read it, Tristan.”
I thought I saw a slight change in his eyes. The fire dimmed just a bit. I stood up and held the manuscript at him, but he didn’t take it.
“Please. I’ve shared it with no one else. I want you to be the first.”
He didn’t budge. I tossed it on a side table standing next to the three remaining kitchen chairs, waiting to be hauled onto a moving truck. His eyes followed the folder, then flew back to me. I took a deep breath, trying to think of what to do next. I fished the ring out of my pocket and held it up.
“I will keep this forever, but only when you put it back on my finger.”
He still didn’t move, but his eyes softened.
“I want to marry you, Tristan. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Forever with you. You and me together. You can’t leave me.”
I put the ring on the manuscript and pulled a chair over in front of him. I stepped up on it so I could look directly into his eyes. The flames still flickered, still bright, but I’d seen worse. I touched his cheek and flinched from the powerful electric pulse, but I didn’t let it stop me. I put my hands on each side of his face. He stood completely still. I looked deeply into his eyes, noticing the flames dimming more.
“I love you, Tristan Knight. You will not leave me!”
Still no reaction except that slight change in the eyes. Give him everything. Show him your trust. I knew it was risky, with that fire still burning, but I didn’t know what else to do. I’d already offered him everything I had. The book had softened him and I knew there was one last way to prove I trusted him completely, with all of my vulnerabilities. I unbuttoned my blouse and let it fall to the floor. I scooted my skirt down my legs and stepped out of it. I unhooked my bra and let it fall, then slid my panties off. I stood naked on the chair right in front of him and held my arms out wide.
“You have all of me now. I trust you with everything. I am all yours!”
His eyes traveled up and down my body.
“You’re being really stupid,” he growled. His hand twitched. Finally, a reaction. “I could kill you right now.”
I lifted my chin and firmly set my voice. “If you’re going to leave, if you’re going back to them, then I want you to kill me.”
The fire dimmed, though, instead of brightening. I knew it was okay. I took his face in my hands again, ignoring the shock this time.
“But you’re not going to. You love me and you won’t hurt me,” I whispered. I pressed my lips against his. He remained unresponsive but I continued to kiss him, looking into his eyes the whole time. “Please, Tristan. I know you love me. Please show me you’re still here with me.”
I slipped my hands back into his hair, tugging at it, and moved my lips over his cheekbone, to his ear and down his neck, then back up around his jaw.
“Please, Tristan.”
When my lips returned to his, he opened his mouth slightly and I tasted him. I traced my tongue over his lips and slipped it between. He started to respond, moving his lips slowly with mine, tasting me. I moved my mouth over his face and neck again, kissing and sucking. I undid the buttons I could reach and gave up and tore his shirt apart, pressing my naked breasts against his bare chest. I felt his hands on my back, sliding down over my butt and back up again. I shuddered. Our mouths crushed against each other and we hungrily kissed and bit and tugged.
He pressed his hand against the small of my back and pulled me up. I wrapped my legs around his waist and he turned and sat in the chair. I traced my hands over his chest, down his torso and back up and over his shoulders and then pressed myself against him, electricity jolting through my body. My lower abdomen and groin tightened with excitement and anticipation. He unclipped my twist and let my hair fall, then pulled back on it, forcing my neck and chest up. His hand slid over and around my breast, squeezing it gently and then holding it as he kissed and licked and sucked, pulling my nipple tight, making it erect. He did the same with its twin. I ground my pelvis against him and I felt him hard underneath me.
“Ah, Lexi,” he groaned. He looked into my eyes and the fire burned in his. But I felt safe.
I started working frantically on his belt, getting it undone, then his jeans button, while I ran my mouth around his jaw. “Make love to me, Tristan,” I breathed.
He slid his hands down my sides, over my hips and under me, his fingers so close to that one area throbbing the most for his touch.
“Argh! No!”
His hands suddenly grasped my waist and he lifted me up and tried to set me on my feet. But my knees buckled and I fell to the floor. Tears pooled again as I looked up at him.
“You really don’t want me?” I whispered, a tear slipping down my cheek as that fear of rejection started to wrap itself around me like a black cloak.
He stared at me for a long, painful moment and then slid off the chair, down to his knees in front of me. I watched his eyes as the flames dimmed and the gold started to sparkle. He smiled as he put his hand under my chin and rubbed his thumb across my lower lip.
“Oh, I want you, my Lexi, ma lykita. I want you more than life itself.”
I breathed a sigh of relief.
“I’m ready. I’m ready to give myself to you. I trust you. Completely.”
“You don’t know how happy that makes me.” He bent over and kissed me, long and gentle. “But . . . I don’t know that I’m ready and I’m not taking any chances with you.”
I stared at him as my heart settled down. I knew he could control himself. After what just happened, when the monster had been closer to the surface than I’d ever seen before, I knew he’d be fine. It was our love and my trust in him that would bring him through. That’s what he’d needed all along.
He looked into my eyes, his full of love. “We had a deal.”
“What?” Why did that matter now?
“We’re waiting until we’re married.”
I shook my head. “That wasn’t our deal. Our deal is we’ll get married when we’re ready. But if we’re ready, why wait?”
He smiled. “Because we’re going to do this right.”
“Then let’s get married.”
He sighed. “You have another deal . . . with Sophia.”
“It’s done. The novel’s over there.” I flicked my hand toward the table where the manuscript lay.
“You won’t submit it without anyone reading it.”
I searched his face. “Why are you making this difficult?”
“Because I need more time.” He pulled me onto his lap, wrapped his arms a
round me and kissed me again.
“How can you just cut things off like that?” I asked, still feeling the warmth and pulsing throughout my body.
“Hundreds of years of practice. I’ve mastered control over that part. It’s . . . the monster . . . I have to worry about.”
A chill ran up my spine, cooling the heat that remained. We sat there for a few more minutes.
“Are you . . . okay?”
He nodded. “Yes, now that you’re here.”
More silence. Then he said, “I’m glad you’re ready. That you trust me completely. Why did you change your mind?”
I swallowed. “I didn’t exactly change my mind. I just realized the truth that was there all along. When I thought I would lose you forever . . . you are more important to me than any part of myself.”
He frowned. “I don’t deserve that.”
“It’s not a matter of what you deserve or what I deserve. It just is. I can’t live without you. I need you.”
He narrowed his eyes and cocked his head. “It is I who needs you. Without your love, without you in my life, I am nothing but darkness.”
“We need each other, then.” I caressed his face. “You and me together.”
He leaned his forehead against mine. “Forever.”
He reached over to the table, picked off my ring and slid it over my finger.
“Think you can stand yet?” He smiled.
I sighed and wrapped my arms around his neck. “If I have to. But I really like it here.”
His fingers trailed lightly up and down my spine and I shuddered. He nibbled at my ear and murmured, “You really need to put your clothes on. Before I lose control.”
“You won’t, though. I’m sitting in your lap naked and you’re fine.”
“No, I’m not fine. You have no idea how hard it is for me,” he said.
I lifted an eyebrow, knowing exactly what was hard. A small smile played on his delicious lips, but I could see in his eyes he fought something inside—and not, I knew, just normal human desire. I didn’t want to do that to him. I reluctantly stood up, picked up my clothes and headed for the stairs.
“Where are you going?” he asked, bemused.
“To bed, if you still have one,” I said over my shoulder.
He grabbed the manuscript and followed me. “You’re putting some clothes on.”
“Yes, sir, I am.”
His mattress and box springs leaned against the wall in his bedroom. Everything was in boxes. I looked at him sadly, realizing how close I’d come to losing him.
“It’s an easy fix, my love.” He started putting the bed back together, lifting the pieces with ease, making me shudder again as his muscles rippled. I turned away before I lost control and found what I wanted—his suitcase. I dug around for one of his shirts, put it to my face and inhaled deeply. I slipped on my panties and pulled his shirt on. He raised an eyebrow and smiled. “I like it.”
We found all the bedding and the big bed was quickly back together and quite inviting. I started to crawl in when I remembered Mom. I called to let her know everything was okay, he was staying, and everyone could relax. Then I finally crawled into bed and snuggled next to Tristan, who sat up against the headboard, already several pages into the manuscript. He put his arm around me. I stroked his chest and kissed his jaw.
“I’m trying to read this really good book here,” he said, his eyes not leaving the page.
Not knowing whether he meant it or not—and not wanting to know yet—I ignored him. “Thank you for not leaving me.”
He pulled his eyes away from the manuscript, looked into mine and smiled. “Thank you for coming back to me . . . and for saving me from myself.”
He kissed me gently. After nearly two weeks of hardly any sleep, and now finally content again, I was out as soon as his lips left mine.
Chapter 19
Sweet breath, wet kisses and a gentle tug on my lower lip awoke me.
“Rise and shine, sweet love of mine,” Tristan murmured in my ear.
I smiled and stretched and peeked through my eyelids. He’d opened the window shutters and light flooded the bedroom. I squeezed my eyes shut. “Mmm . . . do I have to?”
I felt him crawl onto the bed next to me and lay behind me. He snuggled tightly against my back. “I’ve been waiting too long for you to waste the day sleeping.”
I slowly opened my eyes and let them adjust to the light. When I could finally focus, I saw blue sky and the Gulf of Mexico spread out forever before me. “Wow. I could wake up to this every morning.”
“That could be arranged . . . .”
I turned onto my back and Tristan propped himself on his elbow, gazing down at me, the gold in his eyes sparkling brightly, the green shining like emeralds. I reached up and caressed his face.
“I missed you,” I whispered.
“I missed you, too, ma lykita.” He gave me a long, loving kiss, then he scooped his arm under me and the next thing I knew, I was on top of him. He pushed me up into a sitting position, straddling his waist. “That’s why I’m tired of watching you sleep.”
“What time is it anyway?”
“Almost noon. You’ve slept over fourteen hours.”
“Yeah, well . . .” I decided not to mention the last two weeks of hell. “How long have you been up?”
“A couple hours. I slept in, too. It’s been a while since I’ve slept at all and then I was up most of the night reading.” He grinned and winked. I stared at him stupidly, not even realizing I traced random shapes on his bare stomach until I felt his muscles flex.
“That feels incredible . . . and distracting,” he said, grabbing my hand and entwining his fingers with mine.
“I’ll remember that,” I said with a smile. “So, what’s on the agenda?”
“Whatever you want.”
That was easy. “Can we ride to Gasparilla?”
He frowned. “Except that. It’s rainy season and the storms will come in before we get back. It won’t be much fun.”
“Well, if we need to stay indoors, then we should get you unpacked.” I glanced around at the boxes.
“We should probably leave that for now. Could be a waste of time.”
I stiffened. “Why?”
“Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere without you.” He brushed my lips with his fingertips. I immediately relaxed and narrowed my eyes.
“Don’t do that to me.” I swung my leg off him and crawled to the side of the bed.
“Don’t leave. I’m sorry!” He sounded nearly as panicked as I’d felt a moment ago. I smiled.
“I’m just going to the bathroom.”
When I came out, the wall of windows had disappeared and the room opened to the outside. The air was already muggy, but a breeze blew off the water, cooling the dampness. Tristan stood at the balcony railing, still wearing nothing but tan cargo shorts, his bronzed, muscular back to me. Seeing him without a shirt on made me shudder, for more than one reason. Of course, his body was absolutely delightful to look at . . . and touch . . . and kiss . . . and . . . Yeah, it’s quite distracting. But the muscular build also reminded me what he was made for. He might not have looked exactly like you’d imagine the ultimate soldier to look like—bulky and brawny beyond attraction—but the strength and power were obvious.
When I joined him, I saw a cup of coffee, my manuscript in its folder and a rose on the little table. He handed me the cup and the rose. I took a sip of coffee then stuck my nose into the flower.
“Nice,” I said. “Thank you. But you do know you’re spoiling me.”
“I intend to. Every day. Forever.”
We stood against the railing in silence, arm in arm. I sipped my coffee while watching the waves crash on the beach. I could do this forever.
“So,” I finally said, “why would unpacking be a waste of time?”
“I don’t know that it is yet. We’ll find out tonight. We need to discuss some things, figure out some plans.”
“Like getting
married?” I asked excitedly. He smiled down at me.
“Yes, that may be part of it, but we have more pressing issues to worry about.” His brows furrowed and he frowned. “Just because you and I are good—”
“Perfect,” I corrected.
“—doesn’t mean everything else is,” he finished, ignoring my correction.
“What’s going on?” His concern was contagious and he must have seen it on my face. He changed his expression, smiling again.
“We’ll get there soon enough. Let’s not ruin our time together right now, okay?” He picked up the folder with my manuscript in it and handed it to me. I flipped through it. Notes marked the margins on many of the pages. “You’re very talented.”
“So you liked it?” I asked. He nodded. “Really? Wait. You finished it already?”
He nodded again. The notes went through to the last page.
“Oh, no. No, no, no. That’s not good,” I cried.
His brows knitted with confusion. “I thought that meant it’s a page-turner.”
“A page-turner is good, but if you breeze right through it, it’s usually because it’s just crappy writing.” My heart plummeted to my feet.
“Alexis, you’re being absurd. How old is your target reader?”
“Teens, I guess. Young Adult.”
“I think I have a few more years of reading experience than they do. It’s just right for them.” He looked at me earnestly. I let out a deep breath and nodded. “My only problem . . . a witch and a werewolf? Puh-lease.”
I’d expected him to tease me about that, so I just laughed as I put the manuscript back on the table.
“There’s no way a witch and a werewolf would fall in love . . . unless she put a spell on him or something.”
I shrugged. “It could happen. It’s my world. I’m making it up and that’s their story.”
“Hmph. Still . . .” He rolled his eyes mockingly. “I admit you did very well at making it believable. Your characters felt real, even with all the good qualities that don’t quite go along with canon.”
I grinned, ecstatic that even Tristan liked my characters. “Mom gave me some fantastic ideas for them in the beginning. It’s almost like she knew them before I did.”