Slowly at first, in and out, rocking up and down like he was allowing her to get used to him. But little by little his speed quickened, his thrusts became harder, and she wrapped her legs around his back, squeezing them tighter, taking every move, every stroke, every achingly sweet, beautiful inch of him.
She felt herself building, but this time she didn’t try to stop it. She called out his name, “Tristan!” Then let her head fall back to the seat and allowed her whole body to shatter around him. “Tristan,” she said again, as his body collapsed on top of hers, and she felt his seed spill inside her belly.
His breath was heavy in her ear, his heartbeat pounding against her chest, and she wrapped her arms around his body.
“Are you okay?” he asked, not attempting to move away.
“Yes,” she whispered. “Yes.”
20
Chapter Twenty
It was only later, when they stopped at a nearby gas station to clean themselves up, that Samantha started to think about Renee. About how sleeping with her best friend’s brother would affect their relationship. About Tristan, about what happened between them might mean for their future.
She didn’t even know if Tristan wanted a relationship, if he wanted to date her, or if he even wanted to see her again after this weekend. This was something she should have checked on before riding him like a wild pony, but in truth, she wasn’t sure she wanted to know. She wasn’t sure if she wanted a relationship, either. Single for the first time in six years, and not twenty-four hours later, she was sleeping with another man. Not just another man—with Tristan.
Her mother had a word for girls like her. It started with the letter S, and wasn’t the most flattering. Sucking in a breath, she pulled a bottle of water from the fridge, then walked down the aisle looking for something to eat. She’d hardly touched her breakfast, skipped lunch, and after the best sex in her entire life, she was ravenous.
She was standing in the center of the aisle, contemplating the selection on the mini-mart shelves, when Tristan came to stand behind her. He wrapped his arms around her waist, hugging her so hard it felt as though their bodies were melding together as one. She hesitated a moment, but the feeling was too wonderful, and eventually she couldn’t resist anymore and let her body sink against him.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
She smiled at his question. It was whispered, soft, breathy in her ear, and made her whole body tingle from head to toe. “I’m trying to decide between salt and vinegar, or barbecue,” she answered.
“Ahhh…” he began. “A tough choice.”
She smiled. “It is. Because I like the way the vinegar feels against my tongue, but the barbecue is sweet and smoky.”
He groaned. “Are you doing that on purpose?”
She laughed. “What?”
“Making your food sound so erotic.”
She bit her lip, because that wasn’t exactly what she was going for, but she would be lying if she said she didn’t like his response.
He pushed away from her then and walked down the aisle to grab a soda out of the fridge. “Get them both, Samantha.”
“Both?”
“Yes, because after your description”—he bit his lip, cocking one of his lopsided grins—“we’ll need them both.”
“We?” She laughed.
“Yes, we.” He then winked at her, walked over to the counter, and paid for all their things.
When they got back to the Mustang, the sun had completely disappeared from the horizon, leaving the night sky pitch black and covered with stars. She threw her bag to the back seat, just as Tristan’s phone rang in his pocket. She opened the door, then glanced up to see his brows constrict. This wasn’t the first time he’d received a phone call that seemed to bother him, and for some reason it made her stomach twist in knots.
He placed his soda in the front seat, held up his finger, indicating he’d be just a minute, then walked to the back of the car and answered his phone. “Hello?”
She heard a woman’s voice through the receiver, but he moved farther away from the car, and eventually she couldn’t hear either of them any longer. She was sure he had friends, business associates…family that were women—who would call him for a variety of reasons. But it still made her chest tighten. He was fit, tall, and one hottest men she’d ever seen in her life… And she was just…her. It was hard not to feel self-conscious around him, to feel secure enough in herself to be wanted by the most popular guy in school.
God! She was making herself sick. She was acting like she was still in high school—only worse. Back then she seemed to have a good head on her shoulders. Now, she may as well be one of the groupies he had twisted around his little finger.
She settled into her seat, fastened her seat belt with clumsy fingers, and closed her eyes—she didn’t like this. Didn’t like this one bit. She opened her bottle of water and took a large mouthful, hoping to cleanse the bitter taste that had crept up her throat. What was she doing? Why was she acting like this? Why was she suddenly so insecure? But at the same time, how could she possibly believe this could work? He was Tristan, the brother of her best friend, the hottest guy at West Valley, and she felt like a sixteen-year-old girl again.
He topped off the gas a moment later and climbed into the seat beside her. His playful grin was back in place, but she sure didn’t feel as confident as she had a moment before.
“What should we open first?” he asked. “Salt and vinegar, or barbecue?”
Her stomach rolled with all the unknowns, and she turned toward him. She wanted to ask who he was talking to, wanted to ask what he wanted…but she didn’t do either. She looked down to the two bags between them and made a decision. There wasn’t going to be a future for her and Tristan. This was a temporary relationship, a rebound from one place to another. She wouldn’t allow it to be more than that. She wouldn’t allow him to hurt her.
“Salt and vinegar,” she said. The moment the decision was made, her mood instantly lightened. She looked up again and handed him the bag.
“Good choice,” he said with a wicked grin. He then ripped open the bag with his teeth, causing a few chips to fall to his chest and scatter across his lap.
She plucked one from his chest and popped it into her mouth. “Mmm… That’s good”
He grinned back at her and pulled back out to the road. “If you keep making noises like that, we’re never going to make it to the wedding.”
She licked her lips, then took another long drink of water to wash it down. She liked it this way. Playful, sexy, fun…and easy.
21
Chapter Twenty-one
They traveled a couple more hours, snacking on chips and all the other things Samantha had stowed away in her bag for the trip, but eventually Tristan turned off the highway, just outside of Pennsylvania. Her brows furrowed, and she rolled up the bag of barbecue, knowing they still had a good two hundred miles yet before their destination. “Don’t tell me we need gas again?” she asked.
He shook his head, his brow slightly furrowing. “Nah, I thought we’d stop for the night. I’m getting tired.” He said it quietly, but there was something under the surface that made her stomach constrict. Because it wasn’t true. By now she knew him well enough. Knew when he was tired and when he wasn’t. She also knew when something was bothering him. She could feel it in her bones. If they drove a few more hours, they would be there. At the wedding, which was the point of this whole crazy trip. But she kept her mouth shut…because she knew exactly what this was. This was their last night together. Their last hoorah, their last roll in the hay.
A few minutes later, Tristan turned into the parking lot of the Grand Belleview hotel, confirming it. It wasn’t the first motel they had passed, but this place was gorgeous. Ten stories high, all windows, with red carpets that led up to the entrance.
Tristan put the car in park, took his wallet from the center console, and pulled in a breath. Suddenly this felt like so much more than their last nig
ht. This felt like goodbye. Like she was stepping onto a plane with a one-way ticket. Tomorrow they’d be at the wedding, and all this would stop. If for no other reason, than for Renee. Because she didn’t deserve this drama before her wedding. Because up until this point, as far as Renee knew, they were two people who couldn’t stand each other. But at the same time, if this ride went on for much longer, Samantha wasn’t sure she’d be able to jump off. She turned toward the window, pulling in a deep breath to give herself strength. “It went by pretty quickly, considering.”
He leaned back in his seat, stretching his arms overhead. “Yeah, it did.”
She nodded at his reflection, squeezing the door handle, knowing she was about to cry. She hated goodbyes, even when she knew they weren’t forever.
She got out of the car, gathered her backpack to keep herself busy, then turned around to find him right behind her. He didn’t say anything, just took the bag from her shoulder and began walking toward the hotel.
There was a large fountain in the foyer, with large purple and blue lights that moved like currents. It reminded her of an aquatic version of the solar system. With a thousand playful lights dancing on the surface like stars.
Tristan headed straight for the counter, but she touched his arm, making him turn around to face her. “I haven’t talked to Ren in a couple of days—” she said softly. “Do you mind if I borrow your phone?”
He didn’t even wait for her to finish before typing in the password and placing it in her hand. He held her fingers, loosely, but all encompassing, and his eyes met hers. As though asking what she was thinking. But then he smiled, a soft tender smile that made her whole body melt. “Tell her I said ‘hi.’ ”
He let go then, setting a million butterflies loose in her stomach, before turning again to the counter.
When she moved toward the fountain again, she took a deep breath to clear her head. He was so perfect. So utterly amazing that she almost hated the fact she had to walk away. She began dialing Renee’s number but she only got four numbers in before the contact pulled up. “Li’l sis.”
She smiled at the name, but an unpleasant taste crept up her throat at the same time. She was Renee’s maid of honor. The girl Renee should trust most in this world, yet here she was, sleeping with her friend’s brother. Samantha pressed her forehead into her palm and sent through the call before she had time to think about it. With one step in front of the other she paced the floor, trying to decide what to do about the situation. On one hand, it was no one’s business at all whom she slept with. Including her best friend. On the other, she’d always made it Renee’s business to know all there was about her, and the last time she kept a secret it almost killed her.
“Hello,” Renee answered, nearly making Samantha’s heart seize in her chest. “I can’t answer the phone right now. I’m getting married and stuff. Leave a message and I might call you back.”
Samantha laughed at the message, as blood rushed back up to her face. She waited for the beep before filling her lungs with air. “Hey Ren, it’s me…” She took a step forward, knowing a confession like this wasn’t one that should be left in a message. She then sat on a bench and squeezed her eyes shut. “Long story short, but my phone is dead. We’ll be in New York tomorrow afternoon. I’ll tell you all the gory details then.” She looked over at Tristan, unable to prevent her eyes from raking over his entire body. “If you need me, call Tristan, okay?” She cleared her throat, averting her eyes once again to the floor. “Bye.”
She hung up the phone feeling somewhat relieved and turned around to head back to the reception desk, but a text notification popped up on the phone, stopping her.
“I can’t imagine my life without you.”
She looked away the second she saw it, before she could even see who it was from, but it was too late. She’d seen it, she’d read it, and her heart shattered into a million pieces.
Tristan stood across the foyer, his large form leaning against the counter. He was talking to the woman at the reception desk, his wallet out, deep in conversation. It was an invasion of privacy, but she didn’t care anymore. She walked farther into the seating area and looked down to the phone again. It was locked.
She took a deep breath. “Good riddance.” But she wasn’t quite sure she felt it. Because something had wrapped itself around her heart, squeezing it harder with each passing second. Whoever was texting Tristan had nothing to do with her. Whoever it was, who thought they couldn’t live without him, was none of her concern.
She gripped his phone tighter, then dropped her hands to her sides and walked toward the counter. The woman there was giving him directions to their room, but Samantha barely heard any of it. This was a temporary relationship, a rebound, and she wouldn’t allow herself to get hurt.
He slung his backpack over one shoulder, then walked the short distance to the elevator. He pressed the call button, then turned around to look over his shoulder. “Everything Good?” he asked, tilting his head as though wondering why she wasn’t following.
She only nodded and stepped toward him. The elevator doors opened then, and she didn’t stop until she was securely inside, leaning against the banister, where she was steady enough to hand him back his phone. “Thank you,” she whispered.
His brows furrowed as he took it from her fingers. “Everything okay?”
She looked up, her stomach so twisted she thought she might be sick. “She didn’t answer,” she whispered. But a vice tightened around her heart and she couldn’t remain quiet. “I don’t think we should say anything to her. About this.” She waved her hand around the elevator, but the meaning was clear. She didn’t want to tell Renee about them. About whatever this was. Whatever had happened between them.
“Okay,” he agreed. But it was a little too quickly. A little too soon…
Her brows furrowed, because for some reason his easy agreement hurt. She said it wouldn’t, had told herself a thousand different ways that this time she could stop it, but… “She’s the bride,” she explained. “And I don’t want any attention going anywhere else.”
He nodded.
“I’ll tell her later. I mean, if it comes up. When she gets back from Cabo.”
He nodded again. “Sounds good.”
The doors opened, but neither of them exited. He looked at her, a frown making his handsome features somehow more heartbreaking. “Are you okay?” he asked. “You’re acting funny.”
She was like a deer caught in headlights, unsure which direction to turn. Because if she went right, her future was waiting. Without a career, without a relationship, without a best friend. But if she turned left, if she asked him about the message, she might find things she never wanted to know. Things that would cut deep, would alter all they shared together, and leave her broken at a time she needed to be strong. Instead, she walked toward him, right into the fire, and wrapped her arms around his body. His heat was scorching, his body solid and strong, and even if it killed her later, she would allow herself to hold him just a little bit longer.
He wrapped his arms around her waist, so tight it was almost crushing. “Are you okay, Samantha?” he asked her once again.
“I’m perfect,” she whispered, though she knew it was a lie. But she was good at faking happiness. So good she’d fooled even herself for six years.
He grinned at her, apprehensively, but still sexy as hell, then lifted her in his arms and walked out of the elevator to the door of their room. He entered the card in the slot, not allowing her to slip. “Good.”
He kissed her lips and pushed it open. It was a kiss of goodbyes, of last chances, and not wanting to let go. He kicked the door closed, carried her to the bed in the middle of the room, laid her in the center, and knelt beside her. His eyes were only on her, as though she was someone to be worshipped. As though he was admiring a fine painting he’d spent a lifetime trying to see. He began unbuttoning her top, pushing it roughly over her shoulders before climbing on top of her to straddle her hips.
&
nbsp; She was pinned beneath him, unable to move if she wanted to, but she didn’t care. He unfastened the clasp of her bra, pulling the cups to each side.
“You’re beautiful,” he whispered. He then lay between her open thighs, and she wrapped her arms around his back, desperately. He rocked into her. She could feel him hard beneath his jeans, could feel his heart racing, but when she moved her hands to free him, he took both of them and held them above her head.
His mouth covered her nipple, causing her head to press back into the mattress. Because when he touched her, all thoughts were irrelevant. There was nothing else. No weddings, no secrets. No months or weeks. No days or nights. Just this one. She wanted this to last forever. For his lips to kiss her a thousand times, for him to keep telling her she was beautiful.
His mouth moved down her belly, and his hands unfastened her shorts. She lifted her hips, allowing him to slide them down her thighs, until she lay there completely naked, shaking with desire.
He knelt between her thighs again, and pulled his shirt over his head. Then he grabbed her by the hips and yanked her body toward him. His fingers ran down the tops of her thighs, all the way to her knees before climbing up again.
She pulled in a long breath, completely fascinated by his skilled fingers. He inched closer to the apex of her thighs, until one finger slipped between the slick folds.
“Fuck,” he whispered. Two fingers plunged inside her, making her arch her back against the sheer pressure. “You’re so wet.” His eyes were on hers, hungry, starving, and watching her every move. He curled his fingers inside her, pressing up toward her belly. To a place she’d never been touched before. She trembled at the sensation, her body climbing higher toward climax in just a second. His thumb began to move in slow circles at her nub, his fingers rocking her, coaxing her.
The Boy I Hate Page 16