Tension suddenly made it hard to breathe. “It’s all right,” he said.
She looked down sharply, but her gaze went right past his hands, past her rumpled dress, to the spot where they were still intimately connected. Her cheeks flared red and her body tensed. “Oh, my God!”
Her muscles jumped, but he settled his hands on the fronts of her thighs when she tried to lurch upright.
“Don’t,” he said, holding her in place. He swallowed hard and did his damnedest to make his voice soothing. “Stay.”
Distress radiated from her beautiful eyes. The intimacy was too much. She squirmed atop him, only making matters worse.
“Stop,” he said hoarsely.
She went still like he’d known she would, but that didn’t make the situation or the position any easier for her to bear. She froze as if scared to move, but her gaze skittered around the room. It bounced from the wall where they’d just been to the front door and back again. “What did we just do?” she said, scandalized.
Her embarrassment was hard to watch.
Had she never thought about the two of them together? Never given in to a little harmless curiosity?
“I think you know,” he said as calmly as he could. “Or do I have to explain the birds and the bees to you?”
That light teasing brought her gaze back to him, but she wasn’t amused. Her hands opened and closed before she clumsily wrapped her arms about herself. When she realized just how little her twisted dress covered, her entire face flushed.
Ty wasn’t liking this at all. She’d enjoyed it; he knew she had. He’d held her as she’d come. Determinedly, he stroked his hands up and down her thighs. “Relax.”
“We shouldn’t have done that!” she said, her voice tight.
He let out a quick breath. Anything but remorse. He’d take anything she threw at him, but he wasn’t going to regret what had happened between them. “We didn’t do anything wrong.”
“You’re my brother-in-law!”
The flash of anger was immediate. “Not anymore. As you just so helpfully reminded me, you’re divorced.”
Reaching up, he cupped her face and made her look at him. He knew they could bypass all this nonsense if he just started screwing her again. He could fuck her all night if he wanted; she was that receptive to his touch.
But he wanted her to be fully aware of whom she was with.
And he wanted her willing.
“I’m sorry that I pounced, but we didn’t do anything wrong,” he repeated, talking slowly so he made himself clear. Watching her closely, he swiveled his hips. Whether she knew it or not, her body was responding. Her bottom was relaxed against his legs and, inside, she offered no resistance more than her natural tightness. “In fact, it feels pretty damn right to me.”
Her mouth dropped open in a surprised O. Reflexively, she clutched at his forearms.
He wasn’t above playing dirty—not when so much was at stake—so he deliberately did it again.
“Ty!”
“I want you, Trista.”
“But…”
“But nothing,” he said firmly.
Trista felt as if she were about to come out of her skin. She couldn’t believe what they’d just done—what they were still doing! The feel of him within her was overwhelming, and in so many different ways. The way he was growing and stiffening was just…Oooh…She struggled not to respond, to grind down on him as she so badly wanted, because despite what he said, they shouldn’t be connected this way. It was wicked. Taboo.
She knew that.
But her body didn’t much care.
No matter how loud the screaming in her head, she couldn’t make herself pull away. It felt so good to be touched. To be wanted.
He still watched her with those dark eyes. Just like at the Blue Moon, she felt captured. Turned on. When he slowly reached for her, she couldn’t move away.
He caught her dress where it was tangled about her waist. She felt herself tense, but when he started to lift the material, she let him. Embarrassingly, it caught around her breasts. With a soft word, he reached around her and undid the zipper the rest of the way. Her eyelids became heavy at the near embrace. She wanted to rub her cheek against the softness of his hair, to pull him close and ease the ache in her breasts…
“Lift your arms, honey.”
Her arms felt heavy as she obeyed. He pulled the dress off her; it dropped to the floor, forgotten, as he stared at her.
“God, Trista. You’re perfect.”
Emotion built up inside her chest. He didn’t know how much she’d needed to hear that. Her arms fell limp at her sides, and she sat immobile in front of him as he studied her.
Sensuality hung heavy in the air. His face softened, but inside her, she felt his cock harden. It made her abruptly aware of the way she looked. Planned or not, she was dressed for sex. High heels, sheer hose, lace garter belt, black bra and panties…
Oh, God. Her panties.
She’d forgotten the discomfort, but the way they were pulled and stretched suddenly became unbearable. Her gaze flashed downward. The black lace cut into her hip on one side and stretched wide to accommodate him. Without her dress, everything was visible. The tightly pulled fabric, her dark curls, his heavy, drawn-up balls…
The panic returned.
“Relax,” he said softly.
“I can’t!” The need to get away was fierce. This was too intimate. She needed time to think about this.
She tried to climb off him, but this time he caught her around the waist. With a slight flex of his chiseled muscles, he kept her seated. Impaled.
His brow furrowed. “Are you afraid of me?”
Her reaction was instinctive. “No!”
“I won’t hurt you, Trista.”
“I know that.”
His head tilted slightly. “Don’t you like me? Just a little bit?”
“Like you? I lo—” She broke off in embarrassment. “You’re one of my best friends.”
“Then let me be more.”
Ty had had enough. This wasn’t what he’d planned, but she wanted him. Her body couldn’t lie. She was letting unimportant things get in their way.
He reached for her hands, surprising her. Good, he needed to keep her off balance so that rapid-fire brain of hers couldn’t function. Besides, if he didn’t feel her touch on him again soon, he’d go stark raving mad.
He placed her hands palm down on his chest. Pleasure tore through him, and he groaned. Arousal flared in her eyes.
It was the only sign he needed.
She gasped when he began tugging on his T-shirt, taking it off, but then she was helping. His heart was pumping hard when he yanked it over his head and threw it aside.
He caught her staring at him. Engrossed. Unbelievably, he was happy for that week of backbreaking work. It had left his body strong and honed. Sexy, from the look in her eyes.
“Go ahead,” he said, his voice like gravel. “Touch me.”
He needed to remember to be careful what he asked for.
Her fingers stroked tentatively, and his reaction was instinctive. His hips swung upward, and she let out a cry as they shifted on the couch.
Ty was too far gone to slow down. He’d wanted her for too long, and the little taste he’d gotten wasn’t nearly enough. Reaching around behind her, he found the clasp of her bra. He dispensed of it within record time. Before the bra cups had even slipped off her, he was pushing his hands under them and taking possession of her full breasts.
She moaned at the way he squeezed, and her head dropped back.
His thumbs flicked roughly over her already stiff nipples. “We’ve been working toward this for months now, baby.”
“No,” she said, rolling her head and looking at him. “I didn’t see it.”
“You felt it. Nobody’s closer to you, Trista. The only thing that was missing was the sex.”
“No.” Even as she disagreed with him, she couldn’t stop touching him. Her fingers were tracing the l
ines of his muscles all the way down to his abs. She inhaled sharply, though, when she got a little too low and he bucked.
“Yes,” he said firmly. With a firm pinch of his thumbs and forefingers, he emphasized his point.
Her groan emanated from deep in her chest but, still, she fought him. “This can’t go anywhere. You’re Denny’s brother.”
“But I’m not an idiot. I know a good thing when I’ve got it.” It was time to get serious. Letting go of her breasts, he caught her by the waist. She let out a cry when he pulled her up and off him. The reluctance with which her body gave him up made him smile grimly. If that didn’t prove things, nothing did.
“What are you doing?” she gasped when he lifted her in his arms.
He kissed her hard. “Taking you to bed. Get ready, baby. Your ex-brother-in-law is spending the night.”
Three
Trista’s heart gave a somersault. He planned to spend the night in her bed—and they wouldn’t be sleeping.
The idea made her body quicken.
Right or wrong, she wanted him there. Her sexual nature had been ignored for too long. As fast as that romp against the wall had been, the aftereffects were still rippling through her. He’d tapped into that private part of her and, now, it refused to be repressed.
But that little voice inside her head…It kept yelling that she should say no.
She shivered when his nose brushed against her temple. “Don’t overthink it,” he whispered into her ear. “Just let it happen.”
She had to overthink it. Somebody needed to. “This is crazy,” she warned.
“Crazy right.”
Her whole body went hot when he adjusted her easily in his arms. His rock hard physique was the thing of women’s dreams, and she wasn’t immune. He had her so revved up that even the brush of his warm skin against the side of her breast made her want to cry out. Trying not to give in, she braced her hand against his chest.
She found his heart thudding like a big, bass drum.
Warning signs flashed inside her head. They were rushing down a wild path. He didn’t want to acknowledge it, but there were other things to consider. Their friends. His family. Their friendship. There was no way to change what had already happened, but they could still be smart about this. If she told him she wanted to stop, she knew he would.
She just couldn’t make herself do it.
She wanted him too badly, and he was holding her too closely.
His steps slowed. “Look at me like that much longer, and we’ll never make it to the bedroom.”
With the way he’d pulled out of her so abruptly, he’d left her aching. It made everything else superfluous.
She wanted this night with him. For once, she wanted to just immerse herself in feelings. To give pleasure and to receive it. Giving in to the impulse, she turned and wrapped her arms around his neck.
The contact made her groan in delight.
“Trista!”
She felt his knees buckle as she deliberately ground her breasts against him. His reaction made the feminine side of her preen. She did it again, and her excitement soared when he cursed and began to lower her to the floor.
Their skin clung as humid heat poured in around them. The scent of lilacs filled the room, and she heard the air conditioner kick on high. Lilacs? She struggled to open her eyes. When she did, she found herself watching a moth flutter haphazardly around the light on her front porch.
They were right in front of the open door. Again!
“No, no,” she said, kicking her legs. “Not here.”
“Shit!” he said hoarsely, struggling to keep his grip. “Where?”
The lights in her house stood out like beacons against the darkening night. “Close the front door!”
“Hell.” He hitched her higher and strode towards it. “Don’t do that again unless you’re willing to follow through.”
Trista ducked her head into the crook of his neck. She’d never been more embarrassed in her life. He was carrying her, practically buck naked, right where everyone could see. “Ty!” she gasped. “The neighbors.”
“Hey, if you haven’t noticed, my dick’s hanging out there for the world to see, too.”
“It’s not hanging.”
His head snapped towards her, a wicked smile on his face. “What did you say?”
She felt her cheeks heat. She’d meant that nobody could see him, because she could feel it bumping up against her hip. “Just close the door!”
He laughed. “Chicken.”
Using his foot, he once again nudged the door shut. This time, though, she reached out and turned the lock, making sure it wouldn’t pop open again. She didn’t need any more surprises tonight.
He’d already given her a big one.
The lascivious thought made her eyes widen. Groaning, she covered her face. “The Downeys have kids!”
“And they were probably putting them down for the night.” He shrugged as he started to carry her down the hallway. “On the other hand, Old Man White probably got his first boner in twenty years. Poor guy. By tomorrow, he’ll have forgotten all about it.”
She refused to touch that scandalous comment with a ten-foot pole. Besides, those weren’t the neighbors that she was worried about. “Mrs. Frances knows your mother,” she hissed.
His brow furrowed. “That, she does. Well, I guess it’s time Mom found out. It will be a shock, but she’ll have to come to terms with the fact that I have sex.”
“Not with me, you don’t!”
His eyebrows lifted.
“Didn’t.” She shook her head. This teasing side of him was too familiar. It made the intimacy between them all that much more sexy. “Ty, she can’t find out.”
“Don’t worry about her.” He turned into the first room to the left. “Worry about me.”
All playfulness left when he stopped in the middle of the bedroom. The guest bedroom, Trista saw with relief. If he’d taken her into the bedroom that she’d shared with his brother…She put a stop on those thoughts the moment they started. She wouldn’t think about that.
She couldn’t.
Slowly, he set her on her feet. She braced her hands against his bare chest, but suddenly caught movement out of the corner of her eye. She looked sharply to the side, but froze when she found their reflection in the mirror.
It made the breath rush out of her lungs.
They looked incredibly sensual together—like some couple in the centerfold of an erotic magazine.
Ty was watching them, too. They were both naked from the waist up. His skin was darkly tanned from hours of outdoor work, and hers looked pale by comparison. All he wore were old jeans and work boots. She couldn’t have contrasted more starkly in her high heels and sexy lingerie. As they both watched, his hand slid over the curve of her hip. Trista felt a thrill go through her when it disappeared into her severely abused panties. Gliding through the stretched-out leg opening, it settled onto her bottom.
“Ahhhh!” she gasped when he cupped her cheek possessively. One finger. Then two…Then all four dipped into her tight crease. She caught his biceps for support as his fingertips stroked her. Squeezing with his thumb for leverage, he parted her cheeks, only to stroke more deeply in the crevice of her ass.
“Ty!”
“I think it’s time we got these off of you,” he said gruffly.
She felt his muscles bunch. The next thing she knew, she was flat on her back on the bed. He’d left her parted legs hanging over the side, but he stepped up to the mattress before she could close them.
Trista breathed hard as she stared up at him. She felt like a sacrifice as he stood over her with his cock raring. Earlier, she’d worried that she was in for a long night. She found herself thinking the same thing—only this time she was concerned about her stamina.
“What…What do you want me to do?” she asked, unable to hide her nervousness.
This was still so new to her. So shocking.
“Do whatever feels good, baby.”
He was staring hard at her garter belt. Reaching out, he traced the line of it low along her abdomen. Her belly shook. She could feel little zaps of electricity shooting from his fingers. They met down deep in her core, and her arousal flared.
His hand trembled, but then it was sliding down the front of her hip. He traced the elastic to the clasp that held the top of her hose. With a flick, it turned loose. He went through the same meticulous process with the other.
“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” he whispered.
She melted back against the mattress. She knew what he was doing to her. The desire and the need were clouding her head.
How could she not have seen this in him? In herself?
Kneeling down in front of her, he gently gripped her ankle. He placed a hot kiss on her inner thigh as he slipped off her shoe. She groaned and reached down to hold him there. He wasn’t through. His damp breath heated the crotch of her panties as he turned his attention to her other leg. Her fingers raked through his hair, and he rewarded her with a sharp nip that had her nearly vaulting off the bed.
Standing up quickly, he rolled her onto her stomach.
Trista’s hands came up to her shoulders. Anticipation had her nerves singing, but she’d been a good girl for too long. The picture they painted had to be lurid. Her in such a submissive position. Him so dominant.
She felt him stand upright again and resume his position far up between her parted legs. Shyness made her grind her forehead into the mattress.
His hands came down on her again. “So smooth. So tight,” he said under his breath.
The back catches on her garter belt turned loose. The left one, though, gave way with a snap. Her back arched, and she let out a cry.
“So reactive,” he muttered. “Like TNT.”
When he spread his hands wide across her bottom and squeezed hard, the comparison wasn’t far off. Trista surged upright into his hands, pressing herself into his touch. She knew that being with him like this was somehow forbidden, but that made it all the hotter.
Unrequited Page 4