Turning, she tossed her purse onto the overstuffed living room chair. Still tense, she rubbed her hands up and down her arms. That shower was sounding better and better. She just wanted to rinse the evening off of her. Forget it forever. Turning on her heel, she headed for the hallway.
The knock on her door came just as she was unzipping her dress.
At once, her anger flared. She didn’t like conflict, and it took a lot to get her riled. Unfortunately, tonight had burned most of her long fuse.
Pivoting, she glared at the door. She’d been as pleasant to that man as she could through all his rude questions at dinner. She’d thanked him for taking her out. She’d offered him a friendly good night and had even let him get away with kissing her, for God’s sake.
No more. She was nipping this in the bud.
Her footsteps were crisp as she marched across the room. Her hand wrapped tightly around the handle and she whipped open the door. “Cliff, I don’t want to see you again.”
“That’s good.” Ty stood on her doorstep. He hovered over her with a hand propped against each side of the doorframe. “Because I just sent that loser packing.”
Two
“Ty!” Trista gasped.
Almost simultaneously, a car peeled out on the street in front of her house. The screech of tires against asphalt was jarring, and she winced. Poor Cliff sounded as if he were running from the hounds of hell.
Or one very pissed off brother-in-law.
Irritated, she looked at Ty with accusations ready to fly. The words died on her lips. He was wound up. She could see it in the way his jaw clenched and his muscles flexed.
His uncharacteristic irritability made her hesitate. She’d known he’d been upset at seeing her on a date with a strange man. She’d even known that he’d want to talk about it. She’d just expected that discussion to take place tomorrow or next week—and on the phone. Not here on her doorstep with him looking like he was ready to pop.
“What are you doing here?” she asked. “Did you follow me?”
“Yeah. I did. You got a problem with that?”
His voice sounded tight, almost rough. It made her stomach drop. She’d been expecting to find a meek, balding man on her doorstep. Instead, she got the exact opposite. With the way Ty stood over her, he looked big, impatient…and sexy as hell.
All the feelings she’d experienced at the Blue Moon came rushing back—the arousal, the excitement, the panic.
“Yes, I have a problem with that!” she sputtered, even as she felt her belly sizzle. “You’ve…You’ve got no right.”
His dark gaze centered on her face. “We’ll see about that.”
They stared at each other until the air practically hummed. Trista gripped the door handle a bit tighter. What was wrong with her? Why was she reacting to him like this? He was her friend. For all intense purposes, he was still family.
“Who was that guy?” he asked in a deceptively soft voice. “And what were you doing with him?”
“Oh, for heaven’s sake,” she snapped. This was stupid. This was Ty! “His name is Cliff Nealon. He’s a perfectly nice man, and you know what I was doing with him. We were having dinner.”
The look on Ty’s face darkened. Pushing himself away from the doorjamb, he stepped into the house. Trista automatically took a step back to avoid contact. It wasn’t that she was afraid of him. She knew he’d never hurt her. With her senses on overdrive, though, everything was taking on a different hue.
“What did you say to scare him away like that?” she demanded, trying to keep her thoughts focused.
He shrugged off the question, but with the snug black T-shirt he wore, she could see the bunching of his muscles.
“Tell me.”
Those muscles flexed again when he crossed his arms over his chest. “I asked him to leave—politely—although I might have thrown something in there about not coming back.”
“Oh, Ty,” she groaned. “You should have let me handle it.”
“Like you handled that kiss?”
Her gaze whipped up to his face. He’d seen that? Embarrassed, she ran a hand through her hair. With the movement, though, she suddenly realized that her dress was still halfway unzipped. Her fingers stopped, tangled in her curls. With the back of her dress gaping as it was, she felt exposed.
“It was just a peck,” she said nervously.
“He’s lucky he can still walk.”
She swallowed hard.
She’d never seen Ty like this. He was so edgy. So primal. Lowering her hand, she tugged at the wide shoulder strap that threatened to slide down her arm. Her state of undress was making her feel distinctly uncomfortable. Vulnerable.
The action only drew his attention to the problem. His gaze heated, almost scorching her as it raked over her bare skin. “Forget him,” he said flatly. “He’s not the right guy for you.”
“How would you know?” The dress was killing her. She couldn’t think straight with the way it kept sliding and dipping. With the rapt way he watched, she’d never been more painfully aware of a man in her life. “You hardly met him.”
“I know,” he growled.
He reached out to help her, and she flinched. A muscle ticked along his jawline when he saw her instinctive reaction. Slowly, he lowered his hands to his sides. His fingers opened and closed, though, as he stared at her. “What were you doing out with him anyway?” he finally asked. “Where did you meet him?”
Her patience had been rubbed raw—along with fifty other emotions. “What is this? An inquisition? If you must know, he’s a pharmacist at the drugstore down the street from my shop.”
At her tone, Ty took another step forward. It put him too close, inside her personal space. “Why did you go out with him? What made you say yes?”
Electricity began to prickle along her skin. What had gotten into him? Why was he pushing her like this, challenging her?
A thought came at her from left field. Oh, God. Was he still hoping she’d get back together with his brother? Because that was never going to happen. She looked at him dead-on and refused to take another step back. “The divorce has been final for over half a year now, Ty.”
“I know that.”
“I can date whomever I want, whenever I want.”
The muscle in his jaw ticked a little faster. “I know that, too.”
“Then why are you acting this way?”
Something hot and wild flared behind his eyes. “Because you didn’t let me know you were back on the market!”
Trista jerked.
He couldn’t mean…
But he did.
Alternating heat and cold rushed through her already sensitized body. She could see it in his dark eyes. Feel it in the waves of energy buffeting her. Oh, God. Her instincts in the bar had been right. “You want—”
“Yeah, I want.”
He came at her fast, giving her no time to back away. When his hand slid under the curtain of her hair and wrapped around the nape of her neck, she was stunned motionless. It was a sexual touch. Intimate and possessive.
It was nothing compared to his kiss.
His mouth came down hard on hers, and arousal swept through her like a flash fire. Caught off guard, she clutched at his T-shirt. She’d had no time to prepare. No time to build up any defenses. His lips stroked and nipped at her until her brain couldn’t suppress what her body was feeling.
“Damn,” he said hoarsely. “I waited too long for this.”
The fingers at the back of her neck tightened and his other arm wrapped around her low on her hips. Trista shuddered as he pulled her flush against him, lifting her right onto her tiptoes. She felt overpowered and feminine as he fit her against him. His body was big and tough, and the bulge behind his zipper was impossible to ignore.
“That’s right, baby. Feel me.”
Shocked, she looked up at him. She didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know if she could say anything.
His dark eyes watched her closely. Then, p
urposely, he kissed her again. This time, though, he came at her stronger, harder. Opening her mouth wide, he pressed his tongue deep. She moaned when it tangled aggressively with hers and lapped up her taste.
It was her moan that set him off.
With sudden intent, he wrapped his foot around the open door. Putting his heel into it, he kicked it shut. The loud bang finally managed to register in her brain. Disoriented, she tried to pull back. “Wait. What are you doing?”
“What do you think?”
“We can’t!”
“The hell we can’t.”
Her pulse took off as he started backing her towards the nearest wall.
“I saw how you reacted to me at the bar,” he growled. “You felt me looking at you, and you got horny.”
She clutched at him as she stumbled backwards. “But I didn’t know—”
“You knew your nipples itched.”
“Ty!” she gasped. He’d never said anything remotely like that to her before. The effect was devastating. She felt the tingle at the tips of her breasts as starkly as if he’d reached out and pinched her.
“You knew your pussy ached.”
She let out a cry as she felt the wall press into her back. He kept coming until she was tight against it—her heels, her butt, the back of her head…
She was breathing so hard, she couldn’t catch her breath. Things were moving too fast. They didn’t know what they were doing. “We should think about this—”
“This is all I think about.”
She bucked when he fisted his hand in her dress’s bodice and pulled straight down. With it unzipped as it was, the material slid right down over her breasts. The skirt hitched up at the back and the scooped neckline tucked naturally under her breasts. He let go, and it snuggled right into place, framing her bust like a sexy smile.
“Ah!” she cried.
Breathing heavily, he stopped and stared.
Trista was never more surprised in her life than when she felt herself cream.
The dampness in her panties was unavoidable, but the sharp arousal brought with it a tinge of fear. Things were spiraling out of control too fast. She’d never thought of Ty like this before. She’d never considered—
Her hands flew to cover her bra cups when she saw the intent in his eyes. “Wait!”
He was having none of it. Catching her, he pulled her hands away. He pressed her wrists above her head against the wall and locked them in place with one hand. “I’m tired of waiting. It’s time you thought of me as more than your friend. You want to get back in the dating game? Fine, but you’re doing it with me.”
He leaned into her, letting her take his weight. Her breasts cushioned his hard chest, and she let out a whimper when he began to grind against her in slow circles. “I’m not ready for this,” she panted, trying to get him to slow down.
“Baby, you’re raring to go. Just stop thinking so hard.”
Her entire body rocked when his other hand slid intimately up the back of her thigh. With the way her dress was contorted, her bottom was nearly exposed. His fingers paused when he found her garter belt, and his brow creased. “Stockings?”
Trista was shaking so hard, she couldn’t stop. His fingers were brushing against curves that the Brazilian cut of her panties didn’t quite cover.
This was Ty feeling up her ass!
She let out a guttural cry when he grabbed the elastic band and let it snap against her tender thigh and cheek. The sting put her arousal right on the edge. “I put a run in my nylons,” she said quickly. “They weren’t for him.”
“Good answer,” he growled.
His fingers slid around to the front of her thigh, right to the crease at the top of her leg. Trista fought for air, her breasts pressing hard against his chest. He knew. He knew what he was doing to her.
Slowly, his fingers traced her panties right down between her legs.
He found her sopping wet. His shuddering breath hit the side of her neck. “Is this for me?” he asked, his fingers investigating more intimately.
“Yesssss!” she groaned.
With that one tortured word, she surrendered.
Her concerns were many, but she pushed them away. She just wanted to feel again. She knew Ty better than she knew any other man—or she thought she had. It didn’t matter. He’d seduced her at that bar without saying a word. She trusted him and, at the moment, she wanted him more than anything in the world.
He felt it, and he moved on her fast. The hand that had captured her wrists let go and reached for the zipper of his jeans. Impatiently, he kneed her legs open and stretched the crotch of her panties to the side.
She squirmed in discomfort as the material bit into her hip and tugged uncomfortably over her mound. He tucked the wet panel in the tight notch between her leg and her swollen pussy. The brush of his fingers against her, skin-to-skin, was too much. She felt her body begin to tighten.
“Not yet,” he said, almost desperate. Roughly, he freed himself from the front placket of his briefs and stepped back up to her. His thick cock stood fully erect, pointing at her.
Trista’s eyes widened at seeing that private part of him, but she shook in anticipation. She wanted that big rod. She wanted to feel it spreading her, feeding her…
“Hold on, baby,” Ty said as he caught her again. “I’m coming.”
His hands slid under her bottom to the backs of her thighs. With a quick hitch, he lifted her up and adjusted her against the wall. Her eyes drifted shut at the display of raw strength, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. She was so far gone. So intoxicated.
Her eyes flew back open, though, when he began to penetrate her.
She was slick and ready, but it had been a long time. “Ty?” she said anxiously.
He didn’t back off. Instead, he groaned and adjusted his angle. Her breath caught when the pressure intensified. She was tight, and he felt huge. He pushed deeper and deeper until he was sliding right over her G-spot.
Trista went almost light-headed. Her hands clapped onto his shoulders, and her fingers bit down hard. “Oh! Oh, God! Right there!”
“Fuck!” Rocking his hips, he gave her what she needed.
The pleasure was blistering hot and all-consuming. Her nails clawed at him as she flew over the edge.
The orgasm came sharp and fast, but it wasn’t over.
When she regained her senses, she found Ty pumping into her fiercely. He seated himself as far as he could go with every thrust, and the sensations were even more intense. She clung to him as her hips rocked in tempo with his, taking his thrusts as well as she could. Mindlessly, she stared over his shoulder.
Too late, she realized that the door had bounced open.
Her ravaged pussy spasmed, and Ty let out a groan. His knees buckled before he caught them both. Leaning her back into the wall, he used it for leverage as he shafted her.
With the porch light on her doorstep and the lamps on inside her home, any of her neighbors could see their frantic coupling. The Downeys. Mrs. Frances. Dirty old man White.
Trista went off like a firecracker.
Ty blew with her.
Muscles tensed. Breaths caught. Sensation peaked. The moment stretched out in time. Frantic with need, they held onto each other until slowly, gradually their bodies relaxed.
When Ty’s brain began to function again, concern for Trista overrode everything else. He couldn’t believe how things had spun out of control. He’d just come over to make sure her squirrelly date hadn’t gotten fresh, but then he’d seen the bastard kiss her…
All bets had been off then.
Things had swirled up in a frenzy—but she hadn’t been ready. She hadn’t even seen it coming. Hell, he hadn’t been ready for that!
The thought that he might have scared her or—God forbid—hurt her left him momentarily paralyzed. Was she all right?
He found her surrounding him and, for a moment, the physical sucked him back in. Her arms were circled around his neck, her legs
were wrapped about his waist, and her warm, snug pussy held his cock like she didn’t want to let it go. Just the feel of her made his breath shudder hard in his lungs.
Damn. He’d dreamt about being with her this way for so long, it was hard to believe it was real. Yet it was real—devastatingly real. If he’d known how good it would be between them, he wouldn’t have been able to keep his hands off her for this long.
His greedy paws.
Uneasiness took another sharp nip out of his ass. He’d pushed her too far and too fast. Seeing her at the Moon with another guy had driven him a little crazy. The urge to put his stamp on her, to make her his, had taken precedence over everything else.
It still did.
Involuntarily, his grip on her tightened. This hadn’t been a mistake. He wouldn’t let it be.
Slowly, he pulled his head back from the crook of her shoulder to look at her. Perspiration sat like dew on her forehead. Her eyes were closed, but the lines of her face still showed her pleasure. Her cheeks were pink, and her lips were parted.
Desire reared back to life inside him, but he tamped it down. He needed to play this right.
Moving as well as he could with his jeans halfway down his legs, he carried her to the couch. He let his knees finally give out as he dropped onto it. She stirred, but he kept her close, straddled over his lap.
His cock was still buried balls deep—and he intended to stay that way.
Moving fast did have one benefit. He’d gotten past her barriers. There was no way he was pulling back now.
“Easy, baby,” he murmured. He pulled her close so she lay with her head on his shoulder. Comfortingly, he ran his hand over her long, dark hair. Her breaths were still coming hard and fast. “Easy.”
He wasn’t in much better shape. She’d ridden him ragged.
Talk about fire. Once she’d given in, her heat had nearly singed him. The sweet thing. How had she kept all that passion bottled up for so long? Turning his head, he placed a gentle kiss at her temple.
He braced himself when she stiffened.
Oh, shit, he thought. Here it comes.
She was starting to think instead of feel.
He rubbed her back as she tried to orient herself. It took a moment. When she finally pulled back to look at him, her eyes were wide. Confusion had darkened the lavender in them to almost purple. “Ty?” she said, no louder than a breath.
Unrequited Page 3