by Sabrina York
“Yes. God. I want you.”
“I want you too. I want to feel how wet you are for me. I want to rub your clit and suck your tits and make you come. And maybe, just when you’re right there on the edge, begging for it…”
“Yes?”
“Maybe I’ll spank your pussy too.”
She cried out as ecstasy claimed her, sobbing and moaning and crying his name. And that sent him over the edge as well, hurtling after her into pleasure’s tight grip.
Still gasping, he returned to sanity. “That was amazing.”
“Indeed.” He heard the smile in her voice.
“But, Shannon…” He hated himself for being such an ass but it had to be said. “We really can’t do this again.”
There was only a small pause before she said, in the gentlest voice, “Of course not.”
And they wouldn’t. He was certain.
At least, not until the next time.
Chapter Five
“Did you know you and Tristan are practically neighbors?”
Shannon, sitting with her friends in the lunchroom, glanced at Sara, forcing a blank look. “Really?” She tried to infuse an interested lilt in her voice. “I hadn’t a clue.”
Liar.
She knew where Tristan Trillo lived. She’d always known.
She’d bought a house in that neighborhood on the off chance she might see him in passing on occasion.
She never had.
Not until the other day when he’d shown up at her door.
She dug her spoon into her yogurt and stirred, intently studying the strawberry swirls as though they held the secrets of the universe.
“Yeah. Me either.” Sara chatted away obliviously, as Sara often did. “But when he offered to bring you your laptop that day Bosco was sick, he mentioned it.”
“Really.” Kat’s gaze snapped to Shannon. Kat was the company analyst. She noticed things other people—like Sara—tended to miss. “How interesting.”
Shannon frowned. She recognized the glint in Kat’s eye, a sudden speculative gleam. Now that Kat had found bliss with Adam, she wanted everyone paired up. Couples did that to their single friends. It was like a disease.
She shrugged, slow and deliberate. “It’s not like we’ll be sharing jars of fancy mustard through our kitchen windows.”
“Still.” Sara fluttered her lashes like a teenage girl mooning over a pop idol. “He’s so dreamy. I’d love to have him as a neighbor. I could go over to borrow a cup of sugar, like in my bikini. I could seduce him over gardening tips.”
“He is cute.” Jenny flicked the page of her magazine and twirled her hair with a bored finger. Today her hair was purple. “But you could never seduce Tristan Trillo.”
Sara put out a lip. “I could too.”
“Nope.” Kat drew circles in her yogurt. She was dieting. To fit in the wedding dress. “None of us could. That guy is a fanatic about his rule. You should have seen his reaction when Adam told him about us.” She tut-tutted. “He didn’t take it well.”
“But surely he’s adjusted to the news by now.” He had. Hadn’t he?
“Hah! He still complains at Sunday dinner when we all get together. He’s never mean to me but he always gives Adam a ration of it.”
“What does their mom say?”
Kat chuckled. “She just sermonizes about grandkids. She’s convinced her sons are deliberately withholding their sperm in an attempt to deny her that one joy.”
Sara stilled and fixed her attention on Kat. “Are they? I mean is Adam… Does he…”
“Are you asking me intimate details about my sex life?” Kat asked incredulously.
Sara had the grace to blush. “Maybe a little. I was just wondering if he—”
Kat cut her off with a sharp slash of her hand. “I’m not talking about this.”
“It’s just…I can’t imagine Adam using a condom—”
“Drop it!” Kat growled. “I don’t want you thinking about Adam at all. Certainly not like that.”
“Yeah.” Jenny traced her lips with a black fingernail. “If you have to fantasize about a guy not using a condom, fantasize about someone who’s not engaged to your best friend. Fantasize about Tristan not wearing a condom.”
Shannon’s heart lurched, first of all due to her unaccountable fury at the prospect of Sara—or anyone—thinking about Tristan, with or without a condom. And secondly because, as she recalled their mad, passionate tryst in his office…there had been no condom in evidence.
Now, on the face of it, that didn’t present much of a concern for Shannon, who was routinely privy to all of Tristan’s mail—including his medical results. She knew he had a clean bill of health, just as she knew her records were impeccable. But when her last relationship had ended, some three years ago, her doctor had recommended she switch birth control pills in an attempt to lower her blood pressure. Since she hadn’t been getting any anyway, she’d simply stopped taking pills altogether.
Heavens.
“So will there be any grandchildren for Mama Trillo?” Jenny asked teasingly and Shannon jumped, flushing until she realized the question had been directed at Kat. In a sudden panic, she quickly reviewed her monthly schedule and frowned, trying to remember when her last period had occurred. She relaxed when she worked out that the day in Tristan’s office had been on the downside—the least fertile time—of her cycle.
How awful would it be to turn up pregnant with Tristan’s child?
And how wonderful.
Still, she vowed to make certain, should they ever have the opportunity to mate again—and she was determined they would—she would have adequate protection available.
“So?” Jack Maris skewered Tristan with a probing look.
They were in Adam’s office, around the small conference table in the corner, ostensibly going over production estimates from the manufacturer. Tristan was having trouble staying on task.
He frowned at Jack, who had just yanked him from a steamy fantasy featuring Shannon in the shower. “So…what?”
Jack sighed dramatically. “So how did your little interactive demo turn out last night? How did Virtual Life hold up?”
For a second, panic raced through Tristan’s mind, along with the certainty that Jack knew about his virtual tryst with Shannon—that Jack somehow had witnessed everything.
Fury skirled in his gut until he realized if Jack had been referring to Tristan’s interaction with Shannon, his tone would have been infinitely more suggestive. His eyebrows would be bobbling and he’d be licking his lips with glee. No. Jack had no way of knowing how Tristan had used the game last night. Jack was concerned about one thing—his reputation as resident genius.
When Shannon had asked for applications to be loaded on his computer, Jack probably assumed Tristan was checking up on him. Along with being brilliant, Jack was paranoid in the extreme.
Tristan cleared his throat. “It went well. I think we should start a public beta test.”
“Really?” Jack’s eyes lit up and Tristan relaxed. He had effectively thrown the hound off the scent. Dodged, in fact, a virtual bullet. He would have been hard-pressed to explain what he’d been doing with the program last night, and with whom. And why.
“A public beta test sounds great,” Adam said. “Why don’t you start on that now, Jack?” The command was a patent dismissal and they all knew it. Adam, Jack and Tristan. He shot his brother a dark glower, which Adam returned.
Shit.
So much for dodging a bullet.
As soon as Jack left the room and closed the door, Adam lit in. “What the hell was that all about?”
Tristan studiously flicked through the pile of papers before him. “Hmm? What?”
“Come on, Tristan. I know that expression. What exactly have you been up to?”
“Nothing.” Tristan glared.
“Okay.” Adam folded his arms over his chest. “Tell me about your interactive demo. How did Virtual Life hold up? And what the hell is the deal with
running the demo a month ahead of schedule?”
“It was a private demo.”
Adam sat back and stared at his brother in stunned silence. “Oh. My. God,” he said. “You’re getting cyber-screwed.”
Tristan’s frown darkened. “I don’t want to talk about it. And I don’t need to hear any sermons from you about internet sex.” Adam had spent more than his share of time on the internet trolling for a little bow-chicka-bow-wow. Hell, if it weren’t for the internet, Adam and Kat would probably never have found each other and Adam wouldn’t be getting laid at all.
“Hey. No sermons here. I’m just glad you’re getting your groove on again, even if it is in a virtual world. But I have to mention, you’re still just as cranky.” He unleashed an evil-brother grin. “Maybe you should try getting laid for real. Trust me. It’s lots better.”
“Thanks for the advice.” Tristan was glad Adam thought this was all a big joke, that he wasn’t going to dig deeper. If he did, there’d be hell to pay. Tristan was the one, after all, who’d made life so difficult for Adam when he and Kat had started seeing each other. It was his rule that had almost destroyed their romance. If Adam even suspected what had happened between Tristan and Shannon, he would make his brother’s life miserable.
Just one more reason to make sure nothing else ever happened with Shannon again.
Nothing.
Nada.
Zip.
It was nearly ten that night when Tristan finally broke down and called her. He used the phone because they’d already done the computer thing and he’d insisted that couldn’t happen again. The phone, for some reason, he could justify.
It took her awhile to pick up, though he knew she was home. He could see the light streaming softly through her windows as he stood on the bluff overlooking her house.
“Hello?” Her voice was soft, watery. Like she’d been crying.
“Shannon?”
“Tristan.” She whispered his name.
“Are you all right?”
She sniffled. “Yeah. I was just, um, watching a movie. How are you?”
“I’m…good.” It was a lie. He was hungry and antsy and annoyed. “I’ve been thinking about you.” Like incessantly.
“Have you?” Her sniffles seemed to have cleared up. She stepped out onto the patio, wearing a terrycloth robe, cell phone in hand, and looked up at his house. He sketched a wave.
“Yes. Have you been thinking about me?”
“A little.” He heard the smile in her voice.
“Just a little?”
“Okay. A lot.” She sat on a lounge chair and pulled a blanket over her lower body. It was a cool night and her legs were bare.
“Did you just get out of the shower?” Something started to simmer in his groin.
“The bath.”
He groaned at the vision her words stuck in his head. “Did you have bubbles?”
“Not tonight. But I could do that, if it would interest you. I’d let you watch.”
“Would you?” He liked that idea. He liked it very much. “Did you touch yourself while you were in the bath?”
She chortled. “Of course, Tristan. But do you know what?”
“What?” He was mindless with curiosity.
“I’m touching myself right now.”
“What?” He almost dropped his cell over the cliff. Jesus. There. On the balcony. Outside.
“Yeah,” she moaned, deep and low. He swore he could see the undulations inside her robe, under the blanket, a quarter mile away. In the shadows.
“Shannon, Jesus. You’re killing me.”
She didn’t reply but her knees rose to points in the distance as she shifted her body. A random observer would have no idea the woman relaxing on the lounger was slipping her fingers into her dripping pussy, but Tristan knew. He knew with a visceral jolt to his solar plexus as he heard her groan, the sharp gasps and the tiny little whimpers of pleasure. “Fuck.” He squinted in a vain attempt to see her better. There in the dark. A quarter mile away.
“Oh yes. Fuck me.” Her voice was like velvet. “I’m so wet for you, Tristan. I’ve been thinking about your big cock all day and I want you in me sooo bad.”
“Do you?” Hell. He wanted that too. More than fucking anything.
“Mmm. Do you know how hard my little clit is? It’s like a stone. So hard. So fat. It feels so good when I touch it. I wish you could touch it. I wish you could lick it. I wish…”
But Shannon was talking to herself. Tristan had severed the connection and was heading for the door, his car keys and his hard-on making twin bulges in his jeans.
Shannon pulled back the cell phone and stared at it.
Call ended?
She glanced up the hill but could no longer see Tristan’s rangy form leaning against the fence in the moonlight. Whatever had happened? She hoped, quite desperately, that he hadn’t fallen into the ravine. She stood and walked to the fence, peering up into the shadows. Nothing. How odd.
Suddenly Bosco began to bark and Shannon turned to scold him. Just then, the doorbell rang and a thrill shot through her. He couldn’t be at her door. Could he?
Certainty and arousal drove her and she ran to the door, peeking through the peephole before throwing the portal wide.
“Tristan,” she said on a gasp, and then she cried out as he swept her into a wild embrace and backed her up against the wall.
His lips came down on hers in a passionate rush and he consumed her like a starving man. He held her still with his body, anchoring her as he nibbled at her, licked her and fucked her mouth with his tongue. At the same time, his hands insinuated themselves inside her robe and roved with illicit intent, molding her breasts, tweaking her nipples and, finally, testing the viscosity between her legs.
When he touched her there, on her throbbing clit, and slipped his fat fingers into her sweltering cavern, she came. She didn’t mean to come so quickly but the ravenous longing in his ardent kiss overwhelmed her. A part of her brain, the part still clinging to a capacity for thought, acknowledged that, while they had made passionate love, this was their first kiss. And she came, the first time he kissed her.
The revelation made her come again. Or perhaps it was his mouth, which had traveled down her body and was now worshipping the bundle of screaming nerves between her legs. He sucked at her clit, nibbling and licking, laving and flicking with his tongue until she was a panting, clutching, snarling creature, lost to sanity, lost to reason.
With that overwhelming orgasm, she slumped to the ground, gaping at him in speechless awe. His gaze, avid and hungry, skated over her. With a resounding groan, he lifted her in his arms and carried her into the bedroom. He tossed her onto the bed and stripped her of her useless robe and flung it to the floor. Impatiently, he yanked at his belt.
Shannon’s body still thrummed with arousal despite her recent bliss. Her body remembered his, recalled how it felt as he slipped in and in, deeper and deeper until his thick length was seated fully within her canal. Her body remembered and lusted for his return.
Enjoying the sight of Tristan Trillo stripping in her bedroom, she trailed her palm over her belly and into her pubic hair, arching as she touched, ever so gently, her throbbing clit.
“Umm.” She licked her lips as Tristan kicked off his pants and briefs and his cock popped free. “In me!” she urged.
He did not tarry. He set one knee on the bed and angled her legs apart, levered over her and slipped in. And…
God, he felt so good.
Shannon arched into him with an irrepressible moan. He was so big, so hard, so filling. She tried to clench her muscles around him but couldn’t. He was far too large. But he appreciated the effort. She could tell by the way he grunted, the way the light in his eye caught fire. The way he thrust harder and harder still.
“You feel so good.”
“So do you,” he gasped. “God. I’ve wanted this all day.”
“Me too.” She dug into his flesh with her fingernails and angled he
r pelvis toward him. Ever accommodating, he slipped deeper. “Yeah. Like that.”
He grunted as an uncontrollable shiver shot through her, resounding through her pussy, through him. “You’re so tight.”
“Harder. Please.”
He complied, shifting his position and beginning a relentless series of thrusts, each harder, deeper and more delicious than the last. Each nudged her closer to the edge of her sanity. He bent his head and licked her nipple and she groaned. It felt so good, sent shock waves straight to her clit. He did it again and then he took the throbbing crest into his mouth and sucked.
“Do you like that?” he asked between nibbles and nips, though he should know the answer. She whimpered and twitched with delight around him, clutching him, working him. “Do you?” He sucked harder.
“Yes, Tristan. Ah!” Without warning, her orgasm came to her, whisking her away to a world of sensation. Her entire body spasmed and her mind went blank. She was aware of nothing but the cloud of pleasure transporting her, aware of nothing but the hard, pistoning cock driving her further and further from herself. And then the wave broke. Pleasure, like nothing she’d ever known, crashed down upon her, leaving her shuddering and weeping and utterly serene.
He had come too, during that last clenching surge. He lay beside her panting and replete. While he’d slipped out of her and over to the side, his arms enfolded her, his fingers clung, desperately, tellingly, to the side of her breast. As though he didn’t want to let her go. He didn’t want to sever this connection. He didn’t want this to end.
She turned her head. His handsome features were slack with contentment. She caressed his cheek. “That was wonderful.”
He leaned over to kiss her lips. With his thumbs, he brushed the tears from her cheeks. “Why are you crying?”
“I’m not crying.”
“Then what’s this?” He held up a finger, a glistening drop clinging to the tip.
She smiled and took his fingertip into her mouth, sucking ever so gently. “That, my good man,” she said, “is bliss.”
“Stop it. You’re making me hard again.”
Her lips twitched. “Would that be so horrible?”