“Yes, you!” I say, hoping to change the subject.
He smiles wryly at me. “That wasn’t what I was asking, and you know it,” he says.
I close my eyes again. “What Tristan, what do you want to know?”
“I don’t…” I open my eyes and see him run his hand through his hair. “I guess I’m just trying to work you out, and I know a little bit more now.”
“Yeah…enlighten me,” I say sarcastically.
“You have issues with sex.” Oh crap!
“No I don’t,” I argue.
“Yeah...you do, you were with this guy before you got the studio, before…” he breaks off. Before I was raped! “I think you know where I’m going with this.” He adds.
“Do I really come across to you as someone who has issues with sex?” I say with one eyebrow cocked up.
“You seem very relaxed with me…” He says frowning deeply. “But you freaked out again today because I tickled you. I swear it’s linked, sex, touch, men. I know there’s something you’re not telling me…” He adds. Fuck!
“No Tristan, there’s not,” I whisper, trying to get him off the subject. I cross my arms and pout at him, feeling really annoyed. Tristan picks up my right foot and starts massaging it, it should feel really good, but I’m too worked up to appreciate it.
“Are you done questioning me?” I bark.
“Yes,” he frowns.
“Good. My turn,” I say, surprising him.
“Oh?” he cocks his head to the side and smiles wryly at me. “I’m all ears.”
“Yesterday, when I came back, you said ‘I’m not sorry I pushed, it made you leave and it’s made me realise a few things’ when I asked you what you meant, you said ‘later’ well, it’s later, so spill,” I bark. He stops massaging my foot for a moment as he scrutinizes me, then he shrugs and continues, his thumbs digging deeper into my feet – Ok, that’s starting to feel really good.
“Ok, well firstly, it made me realise that you have issues, very deep and disturbing issues that you really don’t want to share with me,” he softly says. Holy crap, he knows…he knows I have secrets, shit!
Tristan continues. “Secondly, I realised that it’s ok, you know…if you don’t want to tell me, then that’s fine.” I stop breathing, and just stare at him with wide eyes.
“And thirdly, you walking out the door, leaving me, made me understand the depth of my feelings for you. I knew the moment you left, that it doesn’t matter how many times you run because you’re scared, I’ll always come after you. I’ll always fight for you and bring you back home.” Tristan stares down at me with dark, brooding eyes.
“Oh,” I breathe, trying to take it all in.
“Satisfied?” he asks, throwing my words back at me. I decide not to answer him, instead I lean back, rest my head on the edge of the bath and close my eyes, my shoulders slowly start to work their way down from my ears.
“Come back over here baby,” Tristan says, I open my eyes and stare hesitantly at him. He has his hand stretched out towards me.
“No.” I pout.
“Please, let me massage you, you’re shoulders are almost up to your ears.” He gives me his sad, puppy dog look.
I roll my eyes at him. “Fine!” I grumble. I turn around so I’m leaning against his chest once more. His hands start massaging my shoulders again…oh that feels so good!
“I’m sorry,” he whispers against my ear then kisses my cheek.
I say nothing, if I open my mouth it may lead to more dialogue, more questioning. Or he might want me to comment on what he just told me, and I don’t want that, I can't take it.
“Who are we listening to?” He asks chirpily.
“Enigma.”
“They’re good.”
“Yeah…they are.” I say, my voice sounding unintentionally sad.
“Hey,” Tristan takes hold of my chin and turns me to face him. “I really am sorry. How can I make it up to you?”
“By not questioning me anymore,” I whimper, feeling vulnerable.
“Done, anything else?” He says.
“Yes, by making non-dominating love to me when we finish this bath,” I answer dryly.
His eyebrows rise. “Miss Stevens, you shock me. You want it again?” he teases, then sighs blissfully. “Oh it’s a dirty job, but somebody’s got to do it,” he chuckles, running his hands across my breasts.
“Well I would have said I’m glad it’s you, but after that interrogation I’m not so sure!” I scoff.
“Interrogation?” he says, chuckling to himself.
“Glad you find it amusing,” I bite, but a stupid grin is already appearing across my face, giving me away.
“Ah baby…” He soothes wrapping his arms around me, squeezing me tight and chuckling in my ear. I shake my head and laugh along with him, not really understanding what I’m laughing at. How can I go from feeling vulnerable and angry one minute, to lighthearted and playful the next? Oh Tristan, what you do to me…
CHAPTER SIX
TRISTAN HAS STAYED UPSTAIRS after our gentle, sweet lovemaking, citing he has some work to do. So there I left him, on the bed, laptop sitting on his legs, looking as gorgeous as ever – Wish I was sitting on his lap right now!
I grit my teeth at myself – Coral! Jeez, I'm turning into a sex maniac too!
Shaking my head at myself, I head down the stairs feeling much calmer than I did in the bath. I shudder slightly, all that questioning...I hope Tristan’s just guessing about my past, I really don’t want him to know that side of me.
As I reach the kitchen, I take a moment to assess how I really feel. I am definitely feeling more relaxed now, I guess that’s all the sex, and I’m feeling very excited to be cooking in Tristan’s awesome kitchen. Right time for some music to cook by!
Switching on my MP3 player, I plug it into the new player Tristan bought for the kitchen and scroll through my albums. I decide on Barry White’s Greatest Hits, his songs are about love, and that’s exactly how I'm feeling right now – very, very loved up! Can’t Get Enough Of Your Love Babe starts playing, Barry doing his little speech at the beginning, then the beat comes in and he starts singing.
I can't help moving my body, dancing and singing along to the tune as I try and find where Tristan has hidden all the kitchen equipment we bought today. Finally finding what I need, I take all the food out the fridge and start doing my thing.
Five minutes later, I have the fish poaching in the oven, so I start on cutting up the potatoes to parboil them. I stop for a moment and take a look at my surroundings.
I absolutely love this kitchen, this house and Tristan...oh Tristan...
Laughing at myself, I turn back to preparing the potatoes. As I put them on the boil, Barry starts singing You See The Trouble With Me. I sing away, knowing all the words, thinking of Tristan the whole time. Preparing the vegetables, I put them in the steamer ready to be done for a few minutes before the meal is ready. Then I prepare the crusty topping for the fish.
Knowing I have some time before I make the sauce for the fish, I pour myself a glass of wine and have a little dance around the kitchen. The track changes again, Never Going to Give You Up starts playing, I get lost in it and slow my body down, moving in time to the beat, singing along, slowly swaying my hips from side to side…I love dancing, I miss dancing…Maybe we should all go out when Rob’s back?
I open my eyes to take sip of wine only to find Tristan standing five feet away from me, his jaw nearly hitting the floor, a look of shock and awe spread across his face. I stop dancing and smile shyly, feeling a little embarrassed he caught me – Boy he looks good, he’s back in his black sweats and another white vest – I want him again right now!
Tristan’s eyes darken, then taking me by complete surprise, he smiles his most sexy, panty combusting smile and starts dancing towards me. My mouth pops open in shock as he closes the distance between us – Oh my God, Tristan can really dance, who knew? He looks so fucking sexy!
Placing
my wine down, I join in with him. His wraps his arms around my waist, crushes me to him and we grind, sexily in the middle of the kitchen…Holy fuck!
Then Tristan leans down singing in time with Barry...“I'm never, never gonna give you up,” his voice is really quite good. “Whatever you want, girl you got, and whatever you need, I don't want to see you without it.” Tristan carries on like that, singing to me. Is there anything this guy isn’t good at?
The timer beeping on the cooker makes us both stop and turn around. I smile up at Tristan, reading my thoughts he lets me go. I walk over to the music and turn it down a little, opening the oven door I check the fish, it’s ready for it’s crusty topping. Ok, I need to get rid of Tristan. I don't want him in the kitchen while I cook, I won’t be able to concentrate, and I want to surprise him. Opening the fridge, I pour him some wine and hand it to him.
“Thank you for the dance sexy, but you need to go,” I say.
Tristan takes the wine and gazes down at me. “Do you have any idea how sexy you look when you dance like that? It should be illegal,” he says. “Especially in those little shorts.”
I look down at myself. I'm wearing my dark blue P.J cotton shorts that I normally sleep in. Ok, they fit really snugly, and I know they show of a bit of my butt too, but I knew I’d probably get hot cooking in my sweats. I did not think Tristan would think I look sexy in them – at all!
“You’re looking pretty hot too baby. Now go!” I chuckle.
Tristan doesn’t move. He just stands there staring down at me, teasing me with his sexy smile. I try and push him out of the kitchen, giggling as I do. Tristan starts chuckling at me, because I'm not making him move very much, it’s like he’s made out of iron or something?
Putting his wine down he grabs me by the waist, and crushes me against his chest, then he leans down and kisses me, passionately, his tongue battling with mine. His moans of pleasure are making my blood pressure feel like it’s spiked, I lose all thoughts. Pulling back from me as quickly as he grabbed hold of me, he steps back panting as heavily as I am. Whoa!
I gaze up at him, trying to think what I was doing before he kissed me like that. Tristan looks a little bewildered too. I shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts…what was I doing? Dinner, yes, that’s what I was doing, cooking a meal!
Moving closer to him, I pass him his wine peck him on the lips, then walk away, trying to get my head together so I can finish off this meal...
THE MEAL IS READY. So I call Tristan through to the kitchen, he’s been searching for a film for us to watch later, not that I think we’ll watch it, I think we’ll be screwing like rabbits. My stomach fills with butterflies, just thinking about having sex with him is enough to stop my heart beating for a second or two.
I decided to set up the new kitchen table, rather than eat at the breakfast bar; it looks nice now it’s ready for a meal. Alicia Keys starts singing If I Ain’t Got You, just as Tristan makes his way over to me. I swoon at him for a second then quickly snap myself out of it – He’s going to think I’m a complete lunatic!
“Here.” I place Tristan’s plate of food in front of him, trying to ignore how sexy he is and how gorgeous he smells.
“Wow!” Tristan looks shocked.
“What?” I chuckle sitting down next to him with my plate.
“This looks amazing Coral.” I smile shyly and pick up my knife and fork. “I’m serious this looks like Michelin star food.” I frown at him, but I can see he really means it. I look down at the meal I have cooked, a meal I’ve done I don’t know how many times. To me it’s easy, cooking seems to come naturally to me.
“Now you’re being silly,” I choke.
“No Coral I’m not. Care to tell me how many Michelin star restaurants you’ve eaten at?” I take a sip of the cool, crisp white Chardonnay that Tristan has poured and shrug. “I thought so. I’m telling you, this looks Michelin.”
I place my wine down and look at the meal again. I’ve made Sea bass, which I lightly poached then roasted with a crusty herb topping and placed on a bed of wilted Spinach, which I have served with diced and roasted, salt and pepper potatoes, served it with steamed asparagus, long stem broccoli, and a garlic and lemon butter sauce – Simple!
“Ok then, it looks Michelin,” I retort, scrutinizing the meal.
“Damn right it does,” he croons then leans towards me, “thank you baby.” He puckers his lips for a kiss. I giggle, lean forward and peck him on the lips.
Then I watch as he carefully fills his fork up with a little of everything, finally dipping it in the sauce, and then placing it in his mouth. His eyes widen as he slowly chews, then he starts to shake his head – Oh No! I’m sure the fish was cooked right through?
“What’s wrong?” I say my voice a little wobbly as I try to hide the panic.
Tristan swallows then gazes at me, his eyes going all soft and warm and crinkling at the corners, he leans in to kiss me again, his dimples on full wattage. “That tastes amazing,” he tells me, brushing his lips against mine. “Almost as good as you,” he adds, his eyes darkening.
I almost choke on my own spit – Did he really just say that out loud? I am speechless. Tristan grins deeply and turns back to his food.
“Wow!” he says taking another bite.
“You’re making me feel self-conscious.” I tell him filling up my fork with fish and sauce.
“Sorry,” Tristan looks guilty for like a split second. “But this really is good, yet again you surprise and amaze me. Where did you learn to cook like this?”
“I didn’t. I’m self-taught.” Tristan gapes at me. “What? You don’t believe me?” I scowl.
“No no, that’s not it. You really taught yourself?” He says, slightly bewildered.
“Well Gladys taught me the basics, and her meals have always been pretty much the same, you know meat, potatoes and veg. It’s all I ever ate growing up, so I guess it kind of went from there.” Tristan still looks astonished as he continues to eat and drink his wine.
“That’s fair enough Coral but how did you get from that to this?” He questions pointing at his plate.
“When you’ve got a lot of time on your hands...” I sigh heavily remembering how I felt back then. “I guess it all started when I got the studio. I was bored...a lot of the time, so I kind of got into cookery shows, you know, Master Chef, Hairy Bikers, that kind of thing. I liked watching them, they were the only thing I could watch that took my mind off things, gave me something to focus on. I guess I just...if I really liked the look of a certain dish, I’d get the ingredients and attempt to cook it, only I kept finding that it would always work out fine first time round. Bob was my taster, I thought he was biased, but now you’ve said that...maybe not.” I ponder.
“So you’re a natural,” he says his eyes sparkling.
“Yeah…I...I g-guess,” I stutter feeling quite astonished that he likes it that much.
“What a lucky bastard I am,” he chortles.
“Yes, you are,” I say shocking myself. That was confident for me?
“Yes, I am,” he croons, leaning in for a kiss. I peck him on the lips and giggle. “Did you study cookery at school?”
“No. I couldn’t concentrate for very long on one subject, not unless I was fascinated by it.”
“What were you fascinated by?”
“Science, Physics, Art. I had a lot of energy too, so I played a lot of sports, only…” I break off remembering how bad I was, how many fights I started and ended.
“Only what?” he questions.
I sigh inwardly. “I was in the Netball team and we used to have matches against other schools, and well, if they cheated or tried to get one of our players sent off…I’d kind of lose it…” I say, cringing inside.
“Lose it how?” he asks evidently intrigued.
“Fighting Tristan. I was a very angry, highly volatile, scared young girl ok. Now, can we change the subject?” Tristan has frozen like a statue, his fork halfway up to his mouth, a deep frown e
tched across his forehead – Great, I better say something, get him off the subject.
“So what fascinated you at school?” I ask. He places the food in his mouth, still lost in thought, then after a couple of minutes he comes back to me and shrugs.
“I wouldn’t say I was fascinated by any of it really. I just knew that I wanted to make money, somehow?” he says.
“Why? I mean why money?” I ask.
“Because I secretly hated not having what I wanted when I wanted it. Don’t get me wrong, my folks were awesome, they showered me with love and affection and that you can’t buy. But it gets a bit much when you have to keep walking past all the shops with the new clothes only to be taken into charity shop after charity shop...” Tristan trails off lost in thought.
“They tried their best, I know they did, but I couldn’t stand having to have second hand clothes. The second hand shoes and trainers however were much, much worse. God they would stink to high heaven. I remember asking for a new pair of trainers for Christmas one year, Gran actually said ok, but I couldn’t have anything else as they were so expensive. Which I was happy with, just that one present, but come Christmas Day, I find I have new trainers, only there the really geeky ones that you just know you’ll have the crap beaten out of you for wearing. I didn’t get my Nike’s, I was gutted.” He stares out the window, he looks like he’s remembering something painful, then he turns back and smiles at me, then eats more of his food.
I smile hesitantly back at him, wondering what that must have felt like.
Tristan continues. “I guess it kind of went on like that you know, Gran constantly saying no to me. Like if I asked for something nice to eat in the supermarket, like a packet of liquorice or a chocolate bar, I would never get it,” he says, his cheeks flushing red.
“So that’s what pushed you to want to make money?” I guess.
“Yes, and wanting to take care of my folks in their old age.” Tristan stares down at his meal for a moment.
“Which you did,” I say proudly.
“Yeah, they were pretty healthy, happy, and well taken care of. So yeah, I guess I did achieve that goal. But what about you baby, what was your dream?” I shake my head in response.
CORAL - Fallen (A Romance Trilogy, Book 2) Page 9