“You’re a really good liar. Honestly, I just feel bad for your fiancé.”
I furrowed my brow and pinched the bridge of my nose like an old man. It wasn’t until I let out a heavy sigh that I could speak calmly again.
“I’m not engaged. My best friend is. He’s a lawyer and he doesn’t have time to do all this. I’m the best man and he asked for my help.”
“You said ‘the bride and I’ in your voicemail.” She interrupted my train.
“Yeah, but not my bride. Gabriella isn’t my type.” A nervous laugh escaped me.
“Oh yeah? What is?” She crossed her arms, making her breasts push against her collarbone, creating a swell I just wanted to run my lips across. I actively tried not to lick my lips.
“Strawberry blonde and sassy.” I smirked. Her eyes widened, her expression softened. She looked like my baby doll again.
I stepped towards her cautiously, not sure if she had a real temper or not. It could go either way. But when I was inches apart from her, so close I felt the heat of her body and the sharp inhale of her breath, she hadn’t moved. I let my eyes do the talking as I went from her eyes to her full lips, slowly parting with each hot, passing second. And farther, to where her arms tugged the collar of her shirt down to reveal that creamy swell. I found her eyes again as I pried her arms from her chest. My fingers trailed a slow, heated trail down to her elbows until I gripped her waist, pulling her closer. Closer.
“I forgot your name.” She whispered, her voice like a bell in the wind. It made me smile. She makes me smile way too damn easy.
“Tristan. Tristan Cox.” Her eyes caught mine as she fleeted.
“That sounds familiar…” she thought aloud.
I was glad she could not place it. Usually, everyone does—well, every woman does and it just fucks everything up in my head. But she did not know for sure. She wasn’t using me. Yet. My conscience is a real dick.
“Does billionaire tech engineer ring a bell?”
She looked up at me, eyes wide and curious, but not recognizing at all. “No.” She replied.
“You want to talk about my job or you want me to kiss you?” My widened.
She answered by pressing her body to mine and searing her fingers through my hair. I inhaled her sweet, lilac scent before I closed the space and kissed her. It was like going back in time, to four weeks ago where I was the most relaxed I had ever been in a long time. It felt so familiar, so good, and so right—to have her lips on mine. Her body on mine, her breast swelling to my chest. She was so fucking soft and warm, the most comforting woman I ever had beneath my palms. I coaxed her lips apart, her lips gladly parted and accepted my tongue, moving with hers so furiously my cock ached.
I backed her up until we both thudded against the wall, pots of flowers rattled around us but nothing fell. Even if it had, I wouldn’t have cared. Her knee inched up my leg, rubbing against the outside of my thigh. I took her wrist and pinned them above her head, keeping her completely at my mercy.
Our lips were a wet, heated mess. The air filled with our sharp gasps of breath because neither of us wanted to stop to breathe. I nudged my thigh between her legs, pressing up on her sex. The heat seared right through my jeans and she moaned against my mouth, bucking her hips toward mine and deepening the kiss. I bit her bottom lip ever so softly, rising a small whimper out of her. I needed to be inside her. I needed to hear her scream.
I used my other hand to inch up her shirt, feeling the smooth skin of her stomach. I never got to the last time. She was fleshy, unlike the other woman I had been with. I could grab her hips, her waist, and everything else on the way to those pert breasts. They fit perfectly in my palm, I grazed against her nipple and her breath quickened, breaking the kiss. I let my mouth go to her neck, suckling her skin, inhaling her scent. She was fucking edible. And perfect.
Damnit, I wanted her to be mine.
Chapter Eighteen: Emilia
I felt stupid and embarrassed all at the same time. I was mostly infuriated with myself by the time he had me up against that wall.
Tristan.
My body had never reacted like this to anyone. Wanted someone so much that my panties were soaked just because their mouth was on mine, my body pressed to his. I used to think my boobs were too small, I went through a phase of stuffing my bra back in high school. I remained an A cup until college, and I am only a B cup around my period. But he made them feel perfect; I never wanted him to let go. When his palm closed around me, warm and calloused, it feels safe. I have never wanted to be touched that way. Owned. Taken.
Tristan.
For so long I wanted to see him again. Know his name so I would at least have something to say when I touched myself thinking of him. And then I finally saw him again and I almost ruined it. I really thought he was engaged, and I was so angry. But to know that he wasn’t, that he was not tied to anyone, made me even more scared. I am so drawn to him, and I overthink stuff so much. Always thinking ahead, but I just needed to be in this moment. Letting him take me against a wall. Again.
“Please,” as much as I enjoyed his lips on my neck, I needed them on mine and I needed him inside of me.
Before I met him, I thought I had no adventure in me, no spark. Now it was like I had a thing for sex in public places. We were in an indoor plant room, so the glass was very shaded by a thick screen door. No one could see us, really.
But they could hear us.
My fingers fumbled with his belt, finally undoing his button and zipper. I saw his cock straining against his briefs, I never saw it that night. But I felt it. How much it consumed me; how much it stretched me.
I wanted to see his body. My hands flew to his shirt, undoing the buttons so quickly I thought I would snap them off. I all but ripped it open and raked my nails down his hard, chiseled chest as his mouth devoured mine again. I let my fingers draw through the hair on his chest, not too much, but just enough to remind me that he’s all man. I followed it down as it narrowed, leading to his cock. My tongue swirled around his, tasting the mint and cinnamon of his mouth. Like a latte.
He wanted to see me too. He broke the kiss only to tug my shirt off. He pulled my bra down, making my breasts rise and my nipples poke towards him. He sucked until they were hardened peaks, so budded I thought they would fall off. They ached. My sex ached. I couldn’t play anymore.
I tugged his lips to me with my hand, and as I deepened the kiss I used the other to pull him from his briefs. He groaned into my mouth, his hips bucking and his thighs trembling. I gripped his length, his base was so thick my fingers did not reach. He hissed against my mouth, his jaw went slack as I pulled upwards slowly, until I reached the moisture forming at his tip. I wanted to taste him, but I needed him inside of me more.
“Fuck me, now. Please.” I whimpered. His throat drew with a growl.
“Fuck, you’re so damned sexy.” I blushed at the compliment. At least I think I did, everything was so hot.
He widened my legs, and pushed my jeans down, pulling them off of me so fast they made a whipping noise. He pushed my panties aside, his finger rolling against the folds of my sex. I shuddered, my legs quivering and my eyes lolling backwards as it brought a wave of desire right through my spine. It was almost paralyzing.
I latched my legs around him, holding him tight. He inched against my sex, he is so big only the tip made me feel so full. His lips went back to mine, coaxing them apart as he entered me in one swift thrust. I wanted to cry out, but his lips silenced me, his tongue invading my mouth the way his cock invaded my core.
Fuck. Everything rattled, the whole place seemed to shake as he took me over and over. His mouth left mine, his breath went ragged and primal as he drove into me. his hand on one side of my head, the other clenching my thigh in a vice. His head looked down at us, and I did too. Watching him enter me, coated in the juices of our lust was so fucking sexy. Like nothing I had ever seen, it almost made me come faster.
“God, Tristan. Yes—yes ugh, yes!” So many thi
ngs I said were unintelligible. I was vaguely aware of the ugh, ugh, porn worthy noises I was making.
I forgot someone could easily hear us. Or maybe I did not and I just did not care. He was fucking me so hard I forgot my name. Something with an E.
“Deeper please, I need to come.” I moaned.
“Fuck yes.” He groaned.
He gripped my other thigh, barring my legs open as he stretched my walls, his thrusts faster and deeper as he leaned over. My fingers clenched around his biceps through his shirt, my breasts bobbed against my bra as he moved me and the seed table I was on.
I knew I was close. My walls tightened, his groans attested to how hard I was clenching around him. I felt it in my belly, the slow build up, the warm and full feeling. I could feel it in my fingers already. When he leaned forward and closed his mouth around my nipple, biting softly; it was over. My orgasm seemed to last forever. Building up and up until it was so much, almost too much. Blinding as I shuddered and shook beneath him, my back arching and my insides trembling as the wave of pleasure whipped me around and ran through me like I was nothing.
Then his grunts grew shorter, closer together, stronger. So, deep he sounded like a fucking animal, he sure was fucking me like one. I wanted him to come, but as he thrust into me more and more I needed to come again too. I could never be finished around him, it seemed.
I used two fingers to work around my clit as I pinched my nipple, I did not recognize myself. Doing these things. He was making me do what felt good with no inhibitions. I enjoyed this new part of me, yanked out by him so fast. First a month ago, and again today.
“That’s fucking hot, baby doll.”
His bottom lip drew between his teeth, his brows furrowing as he went faster. Our skin clapping together, our labored breaths in the air. Flowers and sex should be bottled up as a scent. I was rolling over the boulder again, wading around in the sea of desire as I came and he followed suit.
His seed shot into me, so deep I felt it in my core. I milked him dry and he collapsed against me as he kissed me through our aftershocks. He released my lips with a wet pop. I sighed in content. My body was mush. Nothing. I was a cloud.
We regained our composure for a few seconds before he pulled away from me. I felt empty when he pulled out. He tucked himself back into his briefs, and he looked around the room. I fixed my bra and he returned with a towel. I used it to clean up, but it did not do much. I was eager for a shower, but part of me was still hot and bothered by the feel of him on my thighs.
“I’ve never been called baby doll before.” I was tugging my jeans back on, remembering the last thing he said.
He buttoned up his shirt, smirking down at me through his lashes. Mascara can’t even get my lashes like his.
“It’s uh, something I think of you as.” He replied warily. I put my shirt back on, standing up to look at him. His hair was a messy array, my attempt to fix it was useless. I think I just wanted to touch it.
“Why?” My brows turned up. A sly smile found his face. He seems like he doesn’t smile often, not genuinely anyway.
I did not have to guess to know something made him that way. That there was something I did not know. And that I wanted to know. I told myself to stop getting ahead of myself.
“Because of your eyes. They’re so big and bright. It’s cute.” I was flattered, honestly.
“I’m not cute.” I teased him.
He stepped closer to me, closing any space there was.
“You are. You’re also very beautiful,” he tucked some hair behind my ear—it was such a sweet gesture. “And I love your body. Want to see more of it sometime.”
His eyes trailed down my front to prove a point. I did not question him meaning what he said. I felt it. The intensity of his eyes was genuine.
“Thank you.” I replied.
His brow arched, “don’t you want to see mine?” He teased.
I knew I had to say something, but I did not want to because I knew I had to be honest too. I always have to be upfront, that’s why men never stick around past the first date when I won’t sleep with them? So why did I have sex with Tristan that night? Who knows. All I know is I have to be honest. It’s why I haven’t had sex in months before that night, but maybe why my heart hasn’t been broken since the tenth grade.
“I do but…I don’t do the whole casual sex thing, I—I’m just not built for it.” His gaze did not falter from mine. In fact, it grew more intense.
“Unfortunately, that’s all I’m about right now.” I furrowed my brow.
“Why?” My heart sunk a little. But it was like I wasn’t ready to just give up on him. Or let him go. You don’t even have him.
“Just is.” His expression was dark, his brows hooded.
“Someone hurt you.” I stated. He did not say anything. But he did not move either, his grip on my waist tightened. He wants me. But how much?
“I won’t pry.” I added. He nodded as if to say thank you.
But all I want to do was pry.
Chapter Nineteen: Tristan
I could feel it in my spine. How much my body wanted her. That wasn’t even a question.
The real one is if I could give her anything else, want anything else. She looked at me like she wanted me, those big blue circles holding the sea bore right through me and make me question everything. If I could trust her. Something told me I could, and it was stronger than with Vivian. The thought of her made me shudder.
I heard something in her voice, a curiosity and care that I usually don’t get from anyone but my family. But I respected her for not wanting to give only half of her. Most women…never mind.
I went dark for a moment, of course someone had hurt me. Bad. I wasn’t sure if I could ever open up again. I had to distract myself with the purpose of this chance meeting. Gabrielle would be pissed if I did not get this right. She is so hard to please, I wonder how Levi survived.
“Let me buy you some lunch. Then we can talk.” I did not phrase it as a question.
She exhausted me and built up my appetite, I was sure she was hungry too. Besides, I wanted to see if I could do something with her that did not involve knocking genitals. I wouldn’t deny it and say I did not want to get to know her more. Maybe we could friends, I just don’t know if I could open up my heart again.
“Okay.”
She nodded.
I took her to the café just down the street, it was walking distance. It felt familiar, walking with my hand on her waist and her tucked into my side. She was soft, she belonged there. What?
I chose a secluded table and we ordered quickly. She went to the bathroom as soon as we got there, then came back, sipping on her tea like she was teasing me. I had imagined those perfect lips around my cock too many times.
“I really thought I would never see you again.” She finally said.
The table was small, our knees brushed as I leaned forward.
“Me too…you thought of me?” I smiled at the question. She had no idea.
“Yeah, all the fucking time. Never met a woman like you before.” I admitted. Her eyes glinted as her cheeks flushed, I don’t think she gets complimented often.
“I thought about you too.” She smiled timidly. How can she be so wild when we fuck and then so timid at lunch?
We ate our pasta salads in relative silence, but it was nice sharing a meal with a female other than my sister or mom.
“I should apologize, for accusing you of being engaged.” We had finished up, and she had been regarding me warily for a while.
“It’s okay,” I shrugged, “it’s just funny because I can’t stand the bride. But my best friend loves her, so I tolerate her.”
She giggled softly. I turned serious, speaking of.
“Look, I really need your help. With the wedding. It’s in two weeks so I know it’s short notice. But I’m desperate.” I pleaded. She stared back at me.
“I could never turn down a chance to build my portfolio. I’ll do it.”
“Thank you,” I could let out a breath of relief. I did not know how tense I was about it. “Gabriella is a real handful though. She will probably be the worst bride you ever work with.” I smirked, but her smile did not quite reach her ears.
“I can handle it, but…if I take the job we can’t do whatever we’re doing anymore. I was already so unprofessional this morning, I have to put my career first. So, no more, um…what we’ve done.”
I was disappointed, and in awe at the same time. I barely know her an I respected her. I don’t know if I ever respected Vivian. But Emilia had earned it in seconds. It sucked, but I wouldn’t force her. Not literally, anyway.
“I understand.”
Her smile was tight. I knew she did not want to do it. But she still did. She was strong, determined, even despite this morning—professional. She reminded me of myself. This project wouldn’t take forever. We can hold off until the wedding. At least, I think I could.
~
We went back to the floral shop and Gabriella met us there. She was nice in the beginning. Kindly introducing herself and what not. I hadn’t seen her in a while so I did hug her, I’m not a total asshole.
“You look good, how are you?” I asked her. She was in her scrubs, so obviously busy with work. We went to a private room in the back. Emilia sat across from us, making it feel more like we were in fact engaged.
“Good, my fellowship is rough, but good. What about Vivian, did she finally sign?” my eyes fleeted to Emilia, who looked on as I expected her to. In confusion.
“Yeah, she did. It’s over.” My voice was tight. It still got to me, what she did.
“I’m glad…so, Emilia. I have so many ideas.”
I sat back as Gabriella chattered away. Emilia took her through the catalog, but then took out blank paper instead and sketched stuff out. Gabriella changed everything three times. We were there for hours before she decided on a base design, not even the flowers yet.
I did warn her.
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