by Sabrina York
She cried out, “No! Please. No.”
Tristan was close, kneeling before her as he worked. He wiped the sweat from his brow and met her gaze with a smile.
“Please, Tristan. I am almost there.”
Again, the smile. It was wicked. He was wicked. He picked up the strap and showed it to her.
A delicious shudder licked through her body. “W-what are you going to do with that?”
“Tenderize the meat.”
She put out a lip. “The ‘meat’ has been tenderized all day.”
Without warning, the strap came down, right on her throbbing clit. Agony. Ecstasy. Lashes of pleasure. Lashes of pain. Every muscle in her body clenched deliciously.
She didn’t come, but just barely.
When he followed the slap with a swipe of his tongue, shivers of impending orgasm slashed through her. But his touch was tantalizingly brief. And before she could grab hold of the bliss, he was gone.
“Ohh. Tristan!” she growled, throwing back her head in agony. “I’m going to make you pay for his!”
He chuckled. “I do hope so.”
She stilled as something wonderful and fat nudged at her opening. Two fingers eased in and Shannon convulsed around them. “Yes. Oh yes. Please.” But then they withdrew and she changed her tune. “No. No. Please.”
“Don’t worry, my sweet. It’s coming. It’s coming.”
And then his mouth was on her, his fingers in her. He sucked and stroked, plying insanity upon her. She arched madly, trying to force him deeper, harder, more, more. She was supremely aware of the straps binding her hands, aware of the restriction over her thighs, aware she was helpless to do anything but come. To be anything but his.
And she did. She was. For one brief, beautiful eternity, she was completely and utterly there.
When she came back to herself, he had already released her from the chair. Already carried her over to the divan. Was already stroking the lust back into her. He urged her, with heat and hunger, to unbearable heights until she wanted nothing more than to open for him, allow him in.
Fortunately, Tristan was not a tentative lover. He knew when she was ready and he knew what she wanted, needed, more than breath itself. He levered himself over her dampened body and spread her legs and eased himself in. And…
Ah! Bliss.
The moment he entered her, the very second he filled her and stroked her and took her, she came. Again. And again. Each thrust took her further and further into the bliss he’d drawn upon her with a feather quill.
He sped up, his breath panting and hot in her ear, his grunts and groans and moans reverberating through their bodies, vibrating at the very point their bodies joined. He sped up and drove deeper, harder, sending a thousand shards of agony and ecstasy through her with each lunge.
Her body tightened. She felt it, that something, stalking her and she wanted to be captured. Wanted to be consumed. Just as his cock swelled inside her, just as his essence jerked and gushed into her, it took her. Took her utterly. Took her completely.
She exploded. Imploded. Flew.
And after their hearts, floundering in tandem, had once again calmed, she looked into his eyes. And she knew what that something was.
It was love. And it possessed her.
Completely.
Chapter Ten
Afterward, once they recovered their sanity and reclaimed their clothing, they enjoyed an exotic meal of lamb and jasmine rice. There were no implements so they ate with their fingers and reveled in licking sweet oils from each other’s hands.
“So.” Tristan leaned back on the fat velvet pillows and stared at her. “What did you think of that?”
Shannon took another sip of the delicious wine and sighed. “It was wonderful, Tristan. But…”
A frown flickered across his face. “But?”
She glared at him. “But if you say we shouldn’t do that again, I’ll smack you.”
He threw back his head and laughed. “Oh, we’re definitely doing that again.”
“Though…” She tapped her lip with her finger. He tracked the movement with glittering eyes. “Perhaps next time?”
“Yes?”
“Perhaps next time,” she purred, “you can be the one in the chair.”
His expression was priceless. Horror and curiosity and arousal at the prospect of being bound helpless before her ravening desires.
Before long, she had just that. Tristan Trillo. Writhing in the chair and begging, begging for sweet release.
It was sublime.
Something unusual happened the next day.
Tristan and Shannon were late for work. They were never late for work.
He drove her home after their amazing night at the Pleasure Palace and he kissed her on her doorstep. And he kissed her in her foyer. And the hallway. And her bedroom. They spent the remainder of the night in each other’s arms, cuddling and kissing and making love.
Not surprising she forgot to set her alarm.
Not surprising they slept in. Way past ten.
When they awoke, they were both in a state, madly scrambling to dress and wolf down hastily scrambled eggs. He sent her to the office first—he had to stop by his house and change clothes because it would never do to show up in yesterday’s outfit. Besides, if they came in together, late, good God, everyone would notice.
By the time he got there, she was situated at her desk and working diligently. He refused to be annoyed by the way she glanced up, offered him a tight, tiny smile and went directly back to work. But then, Adam was there, riffling through a sheaf of papers.
“Where the hell have you been? We had a conference call with Proctor.”
Hell. Tristan slapped his forehead. “Damn it, Adam. I’m sorry. I forgot.”
Adam boggled. “You…forgot? Proctor? Our biggest client?”
“I’m sure you handled it.”
“Of course I handled it.” Adam put his hands on his hips. “Are you okay? You look a little pale.”
Tristan shrugged and pushed past his brother into the sanctum of his office. “I’m fine. I just didn’t get any sleep last night.” He heard a snort from Shannon’s desk. He ignored it.
Adam followed him in and shut the door behind him. “Are you sure you’re all right? Damn it, Tristan. You’ve been weird lately.”
Tristan stilled. “Weird? How?”
“Everyone’s noticed.”
“Everyone?”
Adam leaned against the door and fixed his gaze on his brother. “Is there something you need to tell me?”
“Something?” Tristan pretended to be busy. He shuffled some papers around on his desk, thumbed through his messages.
“Tristan. Are you…sick?”
He froze. They both remembered, were haunted by the day, long ago, when their father had sat them both down and announced, quite calmly, that he was dying. “No. I’m perfectly fine.”
“You aren’t acting fine. Maybe you should go see Doctor Rafferty.”
“It’s nothing.”
Adam sprawled in one of the visitor’s chairs. He rested his chin on steepled fingers and pursed his lips, as though he was trying to unravel a mystery. “Something’s going on.”
Damn it all. Why did Adam have to be so fucking observant?
Tristan blew out a breath. “All right. Yes. Something is going on. But it’s something personal.”
“I’m your brother.”
“Something very personal. I’m…just not ready to talk about it.” He tried to ignore Adam’s hurt expression. As brothers and business partners, they’d never kept things from each other. Well—Tristan steeled his spine—until Adam started courting Kat.
“Okay. Fine.”
“Fine.”
“You’ll tell me when you’re ready?”
Tristan fiddled with his paper clips. “Yeah. Sure.”
“And if you need anything—anything—you’ll come to me?”
“Of course.”
“Okay then.” Adam sl
apped his knees with both hands. “In that case, if it’s not too much trouble, we have a staff meeting.”
“When?” Tristan instinctively checked his watch.
Hell. He’d forgotten to put it on.
Adam grinned. “Ten minutes ago. Come on. Everyone’s waiting. And they’re in a really bad mood.”
“Why?”
Adam’s grin broadened. “Jenny made the coffee.”
The rest of the day was torture. Pure torture.
You would think, after a night like he’d had last night, a man’s body would be sated. Quiescent. But every time he looked at Shannon, Tristan’s ardor stirred anew. It was as though he’d taken a drug that made him want nothing but more and more of the same.
Another torment in his own personal ring of hell was that Shannon was gorgeous today, glowing with an inner light that attracted every male in the office the way a porch light attracts moths. Okay. Not a particularly romantic analogy but Tristan wasn’t in a romantic mood. He was in a predatory mood and he didn’t like the other lions eyeing his gazelle.
And damn it all anyway, whenever he approached her, she was surrounded by people, laughing and chatting and having a good old time. While he was left in the corner stewing. What he really wanted, more than anything else, was Shannon all to himself. He didn’t want to share her with anyone.
And then something occurred to him. He could have her to himself. If he took her away for the weekend. He checked his calendar—nothing important—and logged on to the internet and began researching bed-and-breakfasts in the local area. His fingers froze over the keys. No. Not a bed-and-breakfast. They could run into someone they knew.
A cruise? Yes!
One of the national lines had regular weekend runs down to Ensenada out of San Pedro. Ah. That would be perfect. They could sequester themselves in their cabin, order food and champagne and delight in each other’s company for the whole weekend.
And no one would be the wiser.
The idea so lifted his heart, so intrigued and excited him, he practically thrummed with anticipation. She’d just better say yes.
As soon as she returned to her desk, he called her into his office.
“Yes, Tristan?”
“Shannon. Shut the door.”
The look she shot him was as dry as the desert.
He grinned and shook his head. “A conversation. Nothing more.”
She chuckled and stepped into the room, shutting the door behind her, and sat before his desk. “What is it?”
He cleared his throat. Hell. Now he was too nervous to broach the subject. What if she said no? “Um. I really enjoyed last night.”
She tipped her head to the side and studied him. “Did you? Which part?”
The light in her eyes sent a jolt of excitement through him. “All of it, Shannon.”
“Even being tied to the chair yourself?”
He shifted restlessly at the memory of the torment she’d inflicted upon him. Hell yeah. “You’re a naughty girl.”
“You deserved some payback.”
“Oh, I suffered.”
She leaned forward with a wicked grin. “Not nearly enough.”
“What are your plans for this weekend?”
Perhaps that was a bit too blunt. She sat back, frowned. “This weekend?”
“Yes.” Why did he feel like a pimply faced high school boy asking a girl on a first date?
“Nothing.”
He realized he was holding his breath and blew it out in a gust. “Let’s go away.”
“Away?”
“Together. For the weekend.”
She laughed and crossed her arms over her chest. “We can’t go away together. People will notice.”
“It’s a weekend. No one will notice.”
Her tongue darted out, wet her lips. He fixated on the sight. “What did you have in mind?”
Why did his heart leap like that? God, he was nervous. “How does a cruise to Ensenada sound?”
“A cruise?” Her tongue peeped out and wet her lips, distracting him. “I’ve never been on a cruise.”
“Do you have a passport?”
“Yes. But…” Her face fell. “Tristan, I can’t go away for the whole weekend.”
“Why not?”
“Bosco!”
Bosco? Tristan gaped at her. “Can’t you get a sitter?”
“Who? Kat? Sara? How do I explain where I’m going?”
“Don’t you have a sister?”
“She’s allergic.”
He was starting to panic. He could feel the heat rising in his cheeks. He hadn’t realized how much he wanted this until now. And man, did he want it. “Can’t you tell Kat you have to visit your sister for the weekend?”
“Lie to my friend?” Shannon stilled. Every muscle in her body went tight. Her eyes, large and limpid, were laden with sadness. “Tristan. I hate this.”
“This?” His heart shot up into his throat, pounding hard. “You hate…this?”
“Not this, this. I hate all the lying and sneaking around. I hate pretending like we’re nothing but coworkers. It’s just not in my nature to prevaricate.”
Hell. He hated it when she got all British and used big words. “Shannon…”
“Tristan, I just… I don’t know if I can do this anymore.”
The throbbing moved up into his head. A big fat Viking pounded on his temple with a hammer.
“Shannon. Please.”
“I’m sorry, Tristan. I just can’t. Not right now.” Were those tears on her lashes? God. He hoped they weren’t tears.
When she stood and left, rushing to the ladies’ room, he didn’t follow. He sat at his desk, fiddling with his letter opener and feeling like a worm.
Several hours later, she poked her head into his office. Her eyes were red, her skin pale. “Tristan?”
“Yes, Shannon?”
“Do you have a minute?”
He began to rise, to sprint to the door to help her in, help her sit. And then he remembered. That was something a concerned boyfriend would do. Not a boss. “Sure.”
She came into the room but didn’t close the door. Didn’t sit. She stood before him, mangling a piece of pink paper. “It’s about this weekend.”
“Yes?”
“Um.” She cleared her throat. “My vet says he’ll take Bosco.”
A wash of relief flooded him. But then concern arose. She didn’t seem happy about this. Certainly not as happy as he was. He would have her to himself for three whole days. On a boat. In the middle of the ocean. And she would have him. So why did she look so peaked? He reached across the desk and took her hand in his. She stilled, glanced over her shoulder into the hall and slowly drew her fingers away.
“Shannon, are you all right?”
She dipped her head. “Yes. I’m just a little…” She put a palm to her belly. “My tummy’s upset.”
“Are you sure?” He meant about his weekend, not about her tummy, but she understood.
“Yes, Tristan.” She met his eyes then and he saw it there, the spark he was hoping for.
“Maybe you should take the rest of the day off. You know. Catch up on your sleep?”
It was a weak attempt at humor but her lips twitched. “I have things to do.”
“You need your rest.” He lifted a brow so she would know, would realize he had plans—big plans—to keep her from sleeping this weekend.
She nibbled at her lower lip. He was transfixed by the sight. “I can sleep tonight.”
“Tonight?” He sat back, beset with annoyance that he wouldn’t be keeping her awake all night once more.
She shook her head, reading his mind. Or perhaps his expression. “No, Tristan. Not tonight. For one thing, I’ll have to pack. What kind of clothes do you take on a cruise?”
Clothes? “You won’t need any clothes.”
“Tristan,” she growled at him. Growled. He kind of liked it. “I’ve never been on a cruise. I want to experience everything.”
“You’ll experience everything, all right.”
But she was having none of his teasing. She threw back her shoulders and became all British and stiff. “If I’m going—”
“You are.”
“If I’m going, I plan to have a wonderful time.”
“You will.”
“And not just in the cabin! Why, there are so many fun things to do. Scuba diving, buffets, fancy dinners. Baked Alaska!”
“Have you never had baked Alaska?”
“No. But it’s fascinating. Just the idea of it.”
“We’re not going on the cruise just to eat, you know. Food, I mean.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “You will not starve me.”
“I wouldn’t dare.”
“And we will explore everything.”
She was so adorable in her tenacity that he had to laugh. “We will.”
“You’re impossible.” She growled again but this time the sound hid a chuckle. She tossed the pink paper at him in mock fury. “Here’s a message from Proctor. He wants you to call.”
“Ugh,” Tristan groaned. “Probably annoyed I forgot our conference call this morning.”
“Adam was beside himself. He had to handle it on his own.”
Tristan shrugged. “It’s good for him.” It was time Adam took over more of the business. Tristan was getting tired of handling every little thing himself. Which was odd. He used to revel in it.
She turned to go back to her desk but he caught her hand. “Shannon?”
“Yes, Tristan?” Damn but she was lovely.
“Thank you for coming this weekend.”
Their gazes tangled just a moment more, or perhaps an eternity. And then she whispered, “Tristan, I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
Chapter Eleven
“It’s so big!”
Tristan grinned at Shannon. It was all there on her face, the wonder, the awe, the excitement.
Too bad she was gazing at the ship with all that adoration.
And it was big. Enormous, in fact. It took a long time for them to file through the customs lines and check their luggage—she brought far too much, in his opinion—and up the gangplank and into the dazzling foyer to register with the purser. He was annoyed to discover once they were on the boat, they weren’t allowed to go directly to their rooms. Rather they were led to an upper deck and plied with exotic tropical drinks while the crew valiantly attempted to show them emergency procedures.