“To new experiences,” he says as his lips leave mine, “and a lifetime of memories.”
As he trails down from my lips to my breast, his lips mark my body, circling from top to bottom, traveling inward as if searching for the liquid center of a truffle. When he reaches my nipple, he captures it. He licks it like an ice cream, savoring.
“You’re my dream come true.” He releases my nipple, his eyes meeting mine, sending an urgent message that he loves me. That if necessary, he’d die for me. His eyes never leave mine, as his mouth travels to my other breast. His hand stays on the one he already loved, tugging and pulling at it. Making my pelvis meet his. His fingers trace their way down to the small piece of fabric I wear.
My body is on fire. I don’t remember sex being so good, primitive, and painful. That ache between my legs increases and he’s doing nothing to make it go away. His hands reach for my panties. I want him to rip them off. He makes an act of pushing them slowly down my legs.
“Time to open your wings—for me.” I want to open everything for him. My body. My heart. My soul.
Matt lowers his mouth to my sex, running his tongue over my slit. I moan at the contact, and his eyes meet mine. They’re filled with pleasure and pure ecstasy. His lips lift further north as he pushes a finger inside me, then his mouth goes back to my clit.
“Oh, fuck,” I scream as his fingers find my opening while he licks me. My hips move at the rhythm he sets, and that’s when he submerges inside me dancing, building the moment. I’m ready to meet my fate, whatever that is. His eyes never leave mine. His other hand reaches up, settling on top of my belly. Soon, I want everything to . . . ahh. I don’t finish the thought because I unravel, losing myself in the moment.
“Matt, please, yes,” I scream as I reach the peak and my head explodes along with my body. Filled with a bliss I can’t explain, my body continues riding the high. A high I could get addicted to.
His lips slowly travel all the way back to mine, staying only for a mere second. Then they move away for a second journey where they travel from my neck, to my shoulders, my arms, my belly, down to the center where he stops. My eyes don’t leave his as he reaches for his wallet before losing his pants. I don’t pay attention to his other movements. His eyes hold mine as they penetrate inside my soul, making love to it.
Matt crawls over me. His eyes darken as they grow wide with anticipation. He captures my lips, and his teeth tug at my bottom lip gently. I wrap my arms around his bare shoulders, as his cock rests on my entrance.
“I love you,” he gasps, pushing his hips forward, stretching my insides in a delicious way. “Relax, let me love you.” He strokes my hair, kissing my cheek, then my mouth. Each thrust draws me into him, making me a part of him. Each cell of mine mixes with his—our molecules fuse together, our thoughts. His present is now part of my future. My body is building the pressure once again, but this time is different. I can see them. Two waves about to collide and become one. Forever.
I look stupid. I run a hand down my tie, fix the jacket one more time, and check out my ass. AJ shouldn’t be allowed to spring last-minute ideas, or whatever this fucking suit means. She wanted Jacob and me to look pristine during Grandma’s birthday, because that’s what she wanted.
“You look dazzling, sweetheart,” Tristan says, blowing a kiss from the couch while taking a picture with his phone. “This goes to the scrapbook; the only time my guy wore a suit.”
“I wear suits and tuxedos more often than you think, Coop.” I turn around and consider his casual T-shirt and a pair of washed-out jeans. Thea said some nonsense when she opened the door for us that now make sense: No one told me it’s backward day. She kissed us both and disappeared.
“Where is she?” I check my watch, afraid that she went back to change her clothing for . . . What would she wear on opposite day?
Thea is a chameleon. When she’s at work, she wears classy skirts and jackets—professional. At home she’s her usual bohemian style and . . . there’s no head or tail to her style.
“Your sister just called to ask for a few things for your grandma,” Coop responds checking his watch.
“How are you two dealing?” Ever since last Friday, things have been tense between the three of us. We’re trying to ignore it, but today is going to be impossible.
He gives me a stern look that I reciprocate, so he rolls his eyes. “Didn’t you notice the warm greeting when she opened the door?” he asks. “During our morning run we started discussing my problem she diagnosed me with: Parental insecurities, sexual frustration, and workaholism.” I laugh. “Not her words, but pretty close to that. As I promised you, I intend to go to couples counseling—unless I’m out of town.” He stands up and gives me a quick kiss. “Are we good, babe?”
“So about my grandma?” I change the subject after giving him a hard, consuming kiss.
“Ah, Thea says that she wants to experiment.”
I rub my face with both hands and then march to her bedroom to find out what kind of shit they’re getting her into. Drugs? Oregano, opium . . . What the fuck?
“Butterfly, are you ready?”
“Almost. Matt, I just need to find my pink dye.” She shows me the freshly dyed tips of her hair.
I step in and show her tips. “You finished it already, said you were going to—”
“Right, order it,” she says, as she turns around giving me a peck on the lips. Then she lifts two bottles. “Purple or blue?”
“You’re doing that now?” This woman can’t stop messing with her hair, but today of all days, for real?
“No, silly, it’s for Janine.” She grins at me. “I’m fighting Pria for that favorite spot.”
“It’s yours, baby. I’m Janine’s favorite.” I wink at her. This is the first time I notice that my woman has a competitive streak. “Though it’ll be interesting to see Grandma with purple hair.”
Thea heads to her small box, drops one of the bottles, and hands it to me. It’s not heavy, but the rattling piques my attention.
“What else are you going to do to my poor grandma?” The image of my adorable grandma with purple hair worries me, and with Thea in charge of a hippie makeover, things are about to turn interesting for the matriarch. “My parents might not like you after this.”
“They adore me, hotshot.” She winks at me and leaves the room.
“That they do, my butterfly. That they do.”
“What color will it be, dear?” Grandma watches Thea draw a pattern on her arm with an applicator of henna. “And is it going to last forever?”
“A reddish brown.” She smiles, gliding the henna applicator around the back of her hand. “Henna doesn’t have any fun colors, but it’s safe. And it’ll last only for two weeks.”
“Well, you’ll have to come over to see me when this one fades to try another design, Thea.” She pats my girl’s hand.
“Of course I will.” She puts the last touches and then moves to the other side of Grandma. “Give me your other arm. I’m going to draw a small owl.”
This was Grandma’s birthday wish according to AJ: to have a different hair color and a tattoo. One of those tattoos that Thea has on her feet. Her henna tattoos. Purple doesn’t look great on Janine, but it’ll fade soon. Dad and Pops sit on the couch across from them, watching her. Both with a satisfied grin too, just like Grandpa. Grandpa James watches from the chess table where he’s playing with Tristan.
“She’s making Grandma happy,” AJ whispers, squeezing my arm. “Thank you for not making a fuss about it.” Like Jacob, she doesn’t finish the sentence.
Jacob tried to stop everything by bringing up Grandma’s surgery and the health factors the chemicals in her hair and skin will create. Thea handed him the containers so he could read that everything was safe. My parents took him to the kitchen. Since they came back, Jacob has been leaning against the wall with arms crossed and a nasty glare toward my girl. He doesn’t get it. This party is to celebrate but also to cheer up Grandma.
It’s on the tip of my tongue to ask AJ about the surgery. Two of her heart valves need replacement. One doctor is sure the surgery will increase her quality of life. He, of course, explained the risks of said surgery, but assured us that she had the same probabilities of not making it as a twenty-year-old athlete.
“How are things between you and Thea?” AJ asks and I’m surprised about that. “She told me a few things. We have a lot in common, you know.” I nod, thinking about James, my sister’s baby. “I wonder sometimes about her parents. What kind of people are like that?” I shrug, not being able to comprehend that either. I look at Chris, who always drilled us about condoms, and how if he hadn’t used them back in the day, he’d be a screwed-up father.
“Grandpa is having a blast too. They’re a pair of party animals those two,” she snorts. I join the laugh, pleased that Tristan found a way to connect with my grandpa. “He has changed—Tristan. I’m glad that things are working for everyone.”
Yeah, this is much better; the family gathering to celebrate Grandma. Everyone setting new goals and achieving them. My eyes go back to Jacob, who is going to be in and out of town next year promoting his second solo album. Pria is joining him, and I’m going to be in charge of their shit.
“Who can compete with that?” Pria fakes defeat, breaking the silence. “My cake became history the moment you said purple hair and tattoos. Uncalled for Agatha. I want a rematch.”
“I don’t think so, Cypriana,” Thea calls back.
“Ooh, those are fighting words,” AJ taunts, getting closer to where Grandma sits. “You know, I can break the tie of the favorite. The queen deserves a tribute.”
“I’ll have Jacob teach your classes tomorrow,” Pria offers.
“No, I'm not, Twinkle,” he protests. “I don't like children.” He looks at Gracie and then drops his gaze.
“Free babysitting?” Thea counters, distracting us all from Jacob's pain. “That should help me learn baby stuff. Never in my life have I changed a diaper or fed one. That burping thing looks tricky, and you two need a nice weekend out of town to rekindle your romantic relationship.”
“There won’t be any rekindling,” Pops stands up and gets close to Mason who peels his teeth at him. By now they just like to play the game: you’re not touching my daughter vs. I’m so doing my wife.
“Checkmate,” Grandpa says, raising his fists in triumph.
I turn to look at Tristan who is grinning at me. Not sure if he let Grandpa win or not, but he really enjoys spending time with him.
“And we’re done,” Thea announces loudly, as if no one was around her. “You look perfect, Grandma Janine.”
“Time for cake then,” Pria seconds the excitement, and both take Grandma to the dining room for cake. “We’ll add scoops of ice cream to it—so many that I’ll be remembered by everyone.”
“For trying to convert us into your ice-cream cult?” I tease my sister-in-law who sticks out her tongue at me and leaves.
Walking toward the chess table, I take Tristan into my arms and kiss him.
“What’s that for?” he asks, disentangling himself from my grasp.
“Grandpa enjoyed himself. You distracted him from tomorrow’s surgery,” I say, squeezing his hand.
He shrugs, walking to help Thea with the stuff she used for Grandma. They kiss, whispering something between each other, and then turn to look at me.
“We should contact the architect,” Tristan says, as they both walk toward me. “Living close would allow us to spend more time with the family, don’t you think?”
My chest swells with his words. Who is this man and where is my boyfriend? I want to joke, but I bite the words, because this right here is him trying to change himself for the better. For us.
“I’ll contact him, and maybe we can try to schedule something before Thanksgiving,” I offer, while I take their hands and we walk to the dining room. Pria is setting the cake and AJ is giving Grandma a pouty look. “Give me a few, I have to check on the little sister.”
As I walk toward my sister, Jacob does exactly the same.
“It’s her first birthday in Seattle, with us.” AJ lets out a big breath.
Shit, this is bad. AJ’s too sad. We both can feel that. Mason is watching her from the other side of the room while cradling Gracie. It’s amazing how he knows that my sister needs a little TLC from her brothers and doesn’t intervene.
“She’s going to be fine, AJ.” Jacob doesn’t sound optimistic either, but I give him points for giving it a go. I can’t talk. It’s fucking hard to be positive when your siblings have dark thoughts. I can’t even crack a joke. “Look at her, blowing all the candles that you put on her cake.”
“There’re twenty-two,” AJ prompts. “The age she was when she married Grandpa. He told her the other day that to him she looked just the same as the day when she accepted his proposal. They are so cute and adorable.” Her eyes glisten with the tears she can barely hold, and we have a code red. AJ is about to let the waterworks start.
“Like bunnies or maybe teddy bears?” I try to tease her, to lighten up the mood. “Our grandparents aren’t toys, you know.”
“Oh God, do you have to be an insensitive jerk, Matthew?”
“PMS, Matthew. We picked the wrong day to visit.” Jacob pushes her slightly toward me.
I push her back at him. “We should dump her in the pool. That’ll cool her down.”
“You two are a couple of idiots,” she spits.
Jacob and I high-five. She growls, and our parents give us a warning glare. They clearly don’t understand that we defused a bomb, saving the night. Nope, as usual, we let them think we’re just immature.
“But you love us.” I kiss her cheek. “She’s going to be fine, AJ. Next year we’ll be here watching her get another henna tattoo. Or maybe at the shop, while she gets a tramp stamp with Grandpa’s name.”
She bursts into laughter along with Jacob and I. The image of my adorable grandma in a tattoo parlor getting a tramp stamp is playing in my head. Another glance from our parents. Shaking their head says one typical phrase: they’ll never change.
“No,” Jacob says. “Her tattoo should say something daring.”
“Forever twenty-two.” AJ points at the pile of candles she used for the cake.
“That’s not daring, Mrs. Queen, but fitting.” Jacob’s eyes find mine and he tilts toward Grandma, where Thea and Pria are fussing around her. “She likes them. Not that they can compete with Bradley.”
“It’s different.” AJ’s glowing grin makes me want to pull her braid for showing off, but I remember that we’re not eight anymore. “Though they had a rough beginning. Once they clicked, she learned to adore Mason—and vice versa. But she’s warming up to your girls. Grandpa’s favorite is Tristan—smart move, going for the quiet and adorable one.”
“I’m glad you three are settling.”
I nod, because she’s right. The three of us are finding a rhythm. We’re still having to smooth a lot of wrinkles but I’m hopeful. I look up and find Thea’s bright face attentive to what Grandma has to tell her, but worry as I catch Tristan frowning as he pulls his phone out of his pocket and heads to the next room. Damn, he has to take a breath and let those calls go to voice mail.
The Cooperson family can smell my happiness from Hartford. That’s all I can think of. There’s no other logical explanation as to why my parents and my sister continue pestering me so often. I strut toward the living room to check my voice mails.
“Tristan, it’s Fey. As I told you on my last voice mail, Victoria and I are heading to California and we need access to your home.” There’s a long pause; I check the phone and the recording is still going. “She wants to explore the surrounding area, in case you end up moving the company to the West Coast after you two marry. Stop ignoring me. You know the only way to get rid of me is by making a fat deposit on my checking account. Mwah.”
Bitch.
Fuck, I mutter, and before I can erase the message,
I receive a call from my father.
“Yes, Father.”
“Good, finally we get in touch. You’re a hard man to find, Tristan,” he says with a neutral voice. “As I said in my previous messages, we need you in Hartford tomorrow morning. Are you at the airport?”
“I’ve been busy all day with work,” I lie, because I spent most of the day with my girlfriend, as it is her day off, and we were working on patching our relationship. “This is the first I hear about the meeting, and as I told you last time, I can’t go anymore.”
“Thanksgiving is next week, Tristan. Why the hell aren’t you packing and coming home?” His voice increases several decibels. “Your mother wants me to remind you that the stripper can’t come with you. Not even to become your mistress. Mine at least has class, Tristan.”
What the fuck?
The last unexpected sentence hits me in the gut. He has a mistress. With class. Does my mother know about my father’s extramarital activities? Maybe she does. Does she care?
“Everything okay, Coop?” Thea comes to meet me, holding a piece of cake.
“Is that her?” I stiffen, wanting to hang up, or pushing her away. Damn it, why is this shit so complicated? “Tristan, make things happen. If you can’t fly, let’s have a videoconference. Your family needs you.”
I hang up, holding the bridge of my nose and closing my eyes briefly. Fucking Cooperson family. If they were at least half as supportive and nice as the Deckers . . .
“Babe?” My eyes flutter open at Matt’s voice. Both are in front of me looking expectant. “You okay?”
I nod, taking the cake from Thea’s hands and walking by their side to where the rest of the family celebrates. My family shouldn’t matter, not while I’m with them.
“You want to talk, Coop?” Thea breaks the silence as we ride back to the city. Matthew stayed behind with his family. They were driving his grandma to the hospital to get her prepped for tomorrow’s surgery. “That call put you over the edge.”
Uncut (Unexpected Book 4) Page 24