Layers Peeled

by Lacey Silks

  “She was sold that night,” I said.

  The memory of the cigar-filled room left a bitter taste in my mouth. Nausea swirled in my stomach, slowly making its way up my body. The smell of sweat, alcohol, and masturbating men who’d watched others assault women returned. I didn’t think I could ever get over that night, and I’d often dreamt about the women who had no hope or faith that someone could help them. That same night we’d saved Kendra, Tristan’s ex, from a life of prostitution. After the auction, I was shot, and lady luck by the name of Kendra happened to come back for me. As much as I didn’t like thinking about it, because I knew she’d damaged Tristan when they had a history together, I owed her my life. But she wasn’t herself back then. She had been stoned out of her mind.

  “We need to find this Marissa.”

  “All the leads in the file show she’s working the streets, and the only way to find out more would be to go out.”

  I felt like someone jabbed me with adrenaline right in the heart. Going out to work sounded so good. I had to find a way for Tristan to agree.

  “Tomorrow night, then?” I felt my mouth curve up.

  “Mr. Sexy will never let you do that.” Laura eyed me from the bottom up and then said, “And just how are you going to sway him?”

  “You just leave the convincing to me. It’s time to use the gifts God gave me to my advantage.” I lifted my bosom, so grateful for the one ample endowment I had.

  CHAPTER 9

  The trap was set. No man could deny a naked woman in his kitchen, could he? Well, not totally naked. I was wearing an apron that said Always Served Hot. Now that the cool draft flew through the kitchen, I wondered whether it had been a good idea to pick this room. Tristan must have closed the window upstairs.

  Tristan’s soft steps of naked feet on a wooden surface approached. Every step I heard spiked my heart rate. I felt my nipples harden and the tight excitement surge deep into my belly so I dimmed the lights and leaned against the kitchen island, ready to serve my man.

  “You’re up to something.” Tristan strolled toward me. The look on his face when he saw me scooping chocolate ice cream into two bowls said it all. He had ripped the apron off me in his mind the moment he saw me.

  The sun had set and Tristan had just taken a shower, getting ready for bed. I’d left him a note on the nightstand asking him to join me for a late snack. And now he was probably wondering whether the snack was the ice cream or me.

  Seeing him there, in nothing else but his silky pajama bottoms that hung just below his hips, shot an urge of desperation to my groin. The exposed triangle leading down to his waistband looked more appetizing than the dessert I’d prepared. It would take every little ounce of restraint I hoped I had to resist him. I had to tempt him first. Hook Tristan and reel him in slowly with the most delicious bait I could imagine: myself. I’d only spent a few seconds ogling him and already couldn’t wait to feel him between my legs. I wondered whether I’d end up begging him to ease my deepening ache before I got a chance to ask him the favor.

  “Why would you say that?” I fluttered my lashes in innocence.

  “Because you look like a temptress from hell in that outfit.”

  “Is that a way to talk to the mother of your unborn child?” I turned around to put the tub of ice cream back in the freezer, bending over to give him a full view of my exposed backside, and then leaned a bit more forward for good measure. If he could only get a look at my wet slit I was sure he’d be gone. The quick inhale I heard confirmed my suspicions: he wouldn’t be able to resist me for long.

  “Are you trying to seduce me, Ms. Green?” he asked, as if I were Mrs. Robinson.

  “Is it working?”

  “Hell yeah. Come here.”

  “Not so fast, Mr. Cross,” I stood up and turned around, taking away his view of my ass. “The ice cream will melt.” I lifted the spoon to my mouth, licking it clean, sucking on it harder than needed. That little pulse underneath Tristan’s bottoms began distracting me. The curve became more defined with my every taunt, and he would soon run out of space under there.

  “The only thing that will melt tonight is you underneath me.”

  I pretended to pay no attention to him, even if my juices were ready to welcome his fingers, tongue, and cock; not all at once, of course. I opened the fridge and reached for the whipped cream. Shaking the can in a motion that inspired another flex under his pants, I pointed the nozzle down and swirled an artful mass on top of the ice cream. Once done I lifted the creamed tip to my lips and licked the excess off.

  Tristan growled.“You’re a bad girl.”

  “Thank you for the compliment. Cherry?” I centered a single fully ripe fruit on top of the cream, and then took an extra one between my teeth and bit it with my mouth open. The crunch echoed in the kitchen. A drop of juice collected in the corner of my mouth but I didn’t lick it away. Instead I braced my backside against the cupboard, thankful I missed the stainless steel dishwasher. I wouldn’t want my butt print on the appliance. The coolness of the door against my heated skin felt welcome. I leaned my elbows on the counter as casually as possible, which made the curves of my breasts spill further out the sides of my apron.

  Tristan took another step toward me, his intention clear from the way he moved; in fact, he was now fully tenting out from underneath his pajamas. He didn’t bother to wipe the cherry juice off my mouth as I’d expected. Instead, he lowered his mouth to mine and licked it right off. The gesture sent an army of flavorful tingles through my whole body. How in the world would I be able to keep this up? I was beginning to doubt my ability to sway him the way I’d planned, because now all I wanted to do was spread my legs for him and welcome him in with a bang or two.

  But Tristan had more strength for a man in need than I expected. “The cherry tastes scrumptious, but I can think of an even more delicious one.” His hand slid under the apron. For a moment I thought he’d reach right for my cherry, but he slid his palm along my hip to the back, squeezing between me and the counter, and untied the apron.

  “Wouldn’t want the ice cream to drip on your beautiful apron,” he teased.

  My heart pounded and my breathing stilled. The innocent touch of his fingers was like magic.

  He reached up to my neck and unfastened the ties there as well. The fabric dropped to the floor and I stood in front of him, naked and hot and at his mercy. He braced his hands on the counter, one at each side of my hips. His rigid cock poked my belly through the fabric, and I felt my knees soften.

  “I will ask again, and only once. What is it that I can do for you, Allie?”

  Truthfully, my whole plan had just gone up in flames. I had set the flicker when I prepared for this evening, but Tristan had added gasoline the moment he stepped into the kitchen. The burning effect dripped on the inside of my leg. What was it that I wanted to ask him? Why the charade?

  “Make love to me,” I said.

  “Tsk, tsk, tsk.” He shook his head sideways. “We make love in bed. The kitchen and anything outside the bedroom are meant for fucking.” Tristan’s hand slid to the side of the counter. My gaze followed the talented fingers I so badly needed inside me. He lifted a spoonful of melting ice cream to his mouth, saying, “Good, rough, merciless fucking.”

  Tristan licked the spoon clean and hovered closer. When his lips curled around the metal, I wished I could be could be that scoop. He lowered the utensil to the counter, and the coolness of his breath skimmed my face. My eyes closed, and his frozen lips touched my heated mouth. I felt him melt against me, my body molding to his, wishing those damn pajama bottoms were off. Tristan twisted his hips to the side to make room for his growing erection. His hands cupped my face, and then slowly glided down to my shoulders. The sweetness of chocolate and cream filled my mouth as Tristan’s commanding tongue spread my lips, claiming me. I gave into the invasion, mellowing in his arms, feeling my hands begin to shake and palms twitch for more. What was he doing to me?

  Tristan’s thumbs circled
my collarbone before sliding down my arms to my hips. He pulled away, lifting me up onto the counter. One good look at his broad muscular shoulders and strong arms, and everything inside me tightened into a knot only he could release. My chest heaved from the kiss that left me breathless. My lungs couldn’t fill fast enough to be satisfied, and all I could think about was him, inside me, quickly.

  The scar on Tristan’s lip lifted and his lazy look that oozed sexy held a hint of satisfaction. Why was he satisfied? What was his plan? And for a brief second I remembered why I had come into the kitchen. But the thought disappeared when Tristan brought another spoon of ice cream to his mouth and, supporting me on my back, insisted I lie on the counter. The surface cooled my ignited body temporarily. My feet rested on the edge of the counter, knees spread apart. The pendant lights above me flickered as if sensing that a surge of electrical ecstasy was about to outshine them.

  I jerked up at the shock of his frozen tongue against my heated flesh. But the temperature difference only made me more aware of him there. And I couldn’t believe how quickly the heat of my folds overpowered his cooled mouth. Another sensation of freezing cold, right on my tip, jolted my body upward, but Tristan pinned my hips to the counter. “No spilling on the floor.”

  I lifted my head to look down at the fresh blob of ice cream on my waxed area just as it began spreading.

  The dessert melted and flowed down to where Tristan’s fingers played with my opening. His mouth finally returned to my folds, licking back and forth, sucking on the juices of my desires and chocolate. His hands dug deeper under my ass as his tongue probed my wet entrance.

  I planted my palms on the counter, searching with my fingers for something to grip or hold onto, but the surface was barren.

  Tristan kneaded my bottom with his fingers, every squeeze lurking closer to the center. Feeling his palms near the one virgin hole on my body made me tense, but I couldn’t deny that my curiosity was growing. I slid my hips to the edge of the counter to give him better access. My feet lifted to rest on his wide shoulders, and he didn’t miss a beat in licking me clean, and then ventured deeper and further to the rim of the hole his fingers played with.

  The marble counter was no longer cold against my skin. Tristan spread my ass, licking from my slit down along my crack. His finger massaged the rim of my tight hole, while his tongue drew back and forth. I turned my head to the side. My breath collected on the marble surface as I felt myself drip with pleasure when one of his fingers, which felt like the thickness of a baseball bat, entered me from behind.

  My ass tensed. The entry zapped a pleasing pain through my body, resting on the heated nub he’d been nurturing.

  “It’s just the tip of my pinkie, Allie. I won’t go any deeper today.”

  And as my muscles relaxed, feeling him inside me there, so snug and tight, was more arousing than I expected. His mouth returned to my clit, and the awareness of Tristan at my front and in my back surged through me in aches and tingles all combined into a feeling I knew I couldn’t contain for long. And for some reason my greedy ass, wanting him a bit deeper, lowered onto his pinkie, and that beautiful pain zapped from under me to my front once again. With my knees falling apart each time my ass tightened around his digit, my hips pressed up into his mouth as he sucked that tender nub. The flicking of his tongue drew out those tight knots, and my fists clenched then opened as it neared so quickly and I couldn’t hold on any longer.

  But Tristan removed his finger and pulled away his mouth, denying me a release. He lifted his head from between my legs.

  “Now, what was it that you wanted when I came to the kitchen?” he asked casually.

  Damn you, Tristan Cross! The painful throb pulsed through me with agony. My body trembled, my hips pushing up, begging him to finish me off.

  “Tristan, please. Don’t stop.”

  “I promise to continue as soon as you tell me the truth.”

  How had he turned the tables on me?

  “I need to come, now.”

  He touched my swollen nub with his finger, whispering, “The sooner you tell me, the stronger it will be.”

  Concentrate, Allie, why did you seduce him? But remembering the important things in a state of near-ecstasy was almost impossible. That was like asking an irresponsible teenager to put a condom on just before he spilled.

  Oh, God, please help me remember. I promise to work harder to save those girls.

  Work! That was it!

  “I need to go on a sting with Laura,” I gasped, giving in. No, it was my body that gave in. There was no way anyone could be tortured like this for too long. That blissful sensation had already begun to dissipate, and I wanted it back.

  Tristan didn’t scold me or lecture me that it would be too dangerous. Instead his head disappeared from my view and he was once again between my legs, bobbing up and down, his mouth closing on my clit, fingers inside me, eating me away, within seconds reviving that joy I’d almost felt. My legs locked around his head and I could not hold on any longer. The orgasm exploded through me like a supernova. My body shook like it had been zapped by a frenzied current. I felt like I’d left this world and was floating through the universe, breathless, limbless, with only one spot on my body pulsating through space as I relished in the pleasure it gave me. Drugs. This must be how you felt when you were high. The convulsions eased as I slowly flew down to earth, until the last tremor left and I touched ground, finding myself on the kitchen counter with Tristan lying at my side, propped on his elbow, trailing his fingers around my navel.

  When had he lifted me higher? My full body spread on the island, resting. The occasional jolt livened the goose bumps on my arms.

  “That was unbelievable.” In all honesty, it was the most intense orgasm I’d ever had.

  “It was my pleasure, Ms. Green.”

  I sat up, feeling my back peel off the counter. An oval of sweat collected on the surface. Tristan was still hard, his cock poking my side.

  “That’s where you’re wrong, Mr. Cross. The pleasure was all mine. How did you know I wanted something?” I asked.

  “There’s a reason Cross Enterprises has earned a name as the best in the business. It’s called instinct. Whether you know it or not, you have that same quality. It’s your best weapon, and that’s why I trust you will take every precaution possible when you go out on the street.”

  “Really?” I felt my smile creep up. It wasn’t like I needed Tristan’s permission to go out, but I didn’t want to do anything behind his back either, not where work was involved. Not for anything.

  “That night I drove by, when you were posing as a hooker, you scared the shit out of me. But when I saw that gun in the holster on your thigh, it only confirmed that you were the strong woman that had been missing in my life, and that you could handle yourself.”

  “Thank you for trusting me. I know you’re afraid, but I know what I’m doing.”

  “I don’t doubt it, Allie. My fear is only validated when someone else who knows what he’s doing tries to abduct women. And you seem to have no fear of those men.”

  “Fear can be deadly in this kind of work. It can cloud your goals and consume your body quicker than a drug. I promise to be careful.”

  “I know you will. Now, how about we finish this ice cream?” He pointed to a bowl full of cream.

  “I have a better idea.” I gripped his firm cock, feeling him pulse with heated desire.

  His scarred lip lifted and he took me into his arms. I melted there in an instant, just like the chocolate ice cream.

  * * *

  We spent the weekend outside of our bedroom and without any clothes. I couldn’t believe how much my horny hormones controlled my body. Tristan fulfilled his promise of christening every room in the house. We mostly slept (though not a lot) on a bunch of pillows on the family room floor and on the couch in the library. But on Sunday night, before bedtime, once the staircase got its debut as well, we finally made it to our bedroom.

  A faint
vanilla aroma trickled into my lungs. The room had been lit with dozens of candles, making it look like something from a movie. Flickers of light glowed on the walls and furniture.

  “You’re not going to pour wax on me, are you?” I asked.

  “Not when you’re pregnant, Allie. The shock of the heat could leave blisters on the baby’s skin.”

  “How do you know?”

  “I googled it.”

  “Since when do you google this stuff?”

  “Since I’m going to be a father. Come on, don’t tell me you’re not a bit curious.”

  “I am, but I’ve just been so preoccupied with work... You know, once we have the baby, life will change.”

  “As long as you’re in it with me, everything will be fine.” He strolled to my side and tugged at the string of my robe.

  How in the world did I deserve this man? Yet the mere thought of ever not having him in my life was like an arrow piercing straight though my heart. He was my family now – he was my everything.

  CHAPTER 10

  This time I opted for an outfit that didn’t scream It’s Halloween! When I walked the street posing as a hooker to convince Tristan I was worthy of Cross Enterprises, the glow-in-the-dark clothing had ended up on his bedroom floor. The pleasant memory revived a knowing keenness deep in my belly.

  Two blocks away, a team of Tristan’s backup-guards patiently waited in their cars. He insisted we call them if trouble we couldn’t handle found us, and I promised we would.

  Today, Laura came with me. She had loaned me her black leather pants and her own corset top, which hooked at the back with a series of bra clips. I’d be too shy to wear this skimpy top even to a club. My boobs almost spilled out from the tight top, but I had to admit that the gothic look she was aiming for me was much better than my last eighties ensemble. My friend chose to wear a mini dress that screamed minimum two hundred per hour. Fishnet stockings completed her outfit.