I bit the inside of my lip before guzzling some wine.
“I like red on you.”
“You like everything on me.”
He shook his head. “Not true.”
“Oh?”
He gently placed his wine glass down. “I despise that shirt.”
The heat in Tristan’s gaze gave away his desire. I glanced down at my tight, black wrap top. It accentuated the girls and trimmed my waist. I smoothed my hands down the shirt and arched my back.
Tristan’s smile grew.
“What has this shirt ever done to you?” The tension in my body roughened my voice. Low and husky, it vibrated from my chest, followed with a purr as my mountain lion pressed for control.
“You said I like everything on you. Right now, I’d prefer that shirt off.” He nodded at my outfit. “Same goes for the rest of your clothing.”
This time a different sensation spread over my body. Like molten honey, my blood pulsed through my veins.
Tristan raised himself out of his seat and slowly walked the step and a half to my end of the table. He held out his hand. Mine slipped into his with a mind of its own. The skin-on-skin contact tingled my fingers and palm. He smiled, took my other hand, and pulled me from my seat. It happened with acute slowness, yet my vision blurred as if I stood too fast.
I stepped into the hard edges of his physique as if he was cut from the same stone as me, yin to my yang, the icing to my cupcake. I licked my lips. I loved icing. Tristan’s porcelain skin shone with vitality and permeated with his delicious scent. I leaned in and licked his neck. The taste of him coated my tongue, sweet, yet salty. Intoxicating.
A deep rumble emitted from his chest and his strong arms wrapped around me. “I’m proud of you,” he whispered into my hair.
“Why?” I ran my tongue along his jaw. Like a drug, I couldn’t get enough.
“You never gave up. I know you were stressed about finding a job, but you kept your head the entire time. You didn’t whine or beg me to save you.” He emphasized his last words by running his hands up my back and then down again to cup my ass. “Though, I wouldn’t have minded playing the hero in your case.”
“Kept my head? Don’t you mean I kept my attitude?”
“With you, it’s the same thing.” He leaned down and pressed his lips against mine. Warm and pliable. His tongue slipped into my mouth and stroked. The mountain lion inside purred, compliant and content, but not calm. She wanted more. I wanted more.
“Do you think…?” I started.
“Do I think what?” Tristan kissed my neck, scraping his teeth gently along my nerve endings and rolling his tongue in sinful circles to taste my skin. His hands slid up my back again, under my shirt, sending a wave of delicious tingles along my spine.
“We could… Oh, I don’t know.” My head dipped as Tristan’s mouth moved lower.
“Yes, you do.” He nipped my shoulder. “Just say it, Andy.”
“Go further, without…” I paused again. Heat pooled between my legs. Tristan’s hands moved in slow circles on my back. His mouth created a dull ache in my core, which hummed in tune with his tongue. I pushed him away. “I can’t concentrate when you’re doing that thing with your tongue.”
“That’s the point, Andy,” he said. “You think entirely too much sometimes. Just feel.”
“Can we…just feel…without bonding?”
Tristan’s lips twitched. “Of course.”
“How far?”
“How far what?” His hands rested on his hips, standing with his legs shoulder width apart.
“Tristan. You’re being difficult, you know exactly what I’m trying to ask.” Sex for power or manipulation was one thing. I’d shamelessly used my body as an assassin, but back then, I’d been a shell of who I was today, and I certainly wasn’t proud of my past. Sex with a potential mate was an entirely different situation—one filled with vulnerability, a need for trust…and boundaries.
“Maybe I want to hear you say the words.” He reached forward and traced a light path down my cheek with his finger.
“How far can we go?”
Tristan paused to study me, his angelic expression inviting. “As far as you want.”
I hesitated. Could it be possible? Had I waited this long for no reason besides my own fear? My heart stopped. “All the way?”
“Mmhmm. All the way.” He gathered me in his arms again and leaned down to kiss me.
“But, I thought…”
Tristan kept his hands on me, but drew his mouth away. “I’m glad Wick practiced restraint, for more than the obvious reason, but I’m not him. I have a couple hundred years of control on him. It’s you I’m worried about. What’s to stop you from gnawing on my neck halfway through? I can’t promise to behave if you do that. No Were’s control is that good.”
Tristan probably had no qualms with me biting him. I snorted. “Puh-lease. I chain down and contain a beast. You and your hundreds of years as a control freak have nothing on me.”
“Then there’s nothing to worry about.” The corners of his mouth tipped up.
“Then…why…” I bit my lip and looked away. Why had he held back? Why hadn’t he pushed for more? He was an alpha, dammit. He was used to getting what he wanted, taking what he wanted.
Then again, if he had pushed, I probably wouldn’t want him the way I did.
Tristan ran his finger along my jaw, gently pushing my chin back to centre so I faced him. His sapphire gaze bore into mine; intense, shining, overwhelming. “I wasn’t waiting until you were ready to bond, Andy. I waited for you to be ready to go farther, period. You have a past. A dark one. I respect that. We can stop whenever you want to.”
“But…” Alphas weren’t exactly the epitome of self-restraint or patience, but Tristan, and Wick for that matter, had greatly changed my perception of what it meant to be truly dominant. It didn’t always result in domineering or controlling behaviour, or pushing someone they cared for well passed their point of comfort.
“I might be hundreds of years old, and certainly not without experience, but even I know our mating isn’t going to fix everything here.” He tapped my forehead. “Or here.” He tapped my chest, right over my heart. “I’ll help you anyway I can, but that kind of healing has to come from within. Pressing you for more physically wouldn’t have helped either of us.”
His hands ran down my arms, his fingers softly entwined with my own. The subtle contact reassuring yet sexy at the same time. I wanted to jump on him, stick to him like a limpet and never let go. Yet, I yearned to continue down at slow pace, to let time and Tristan lead me as I healed from my past. I didn’t want to rush the relationship we continued to build, but I also wanted the physical stuff. I wasn’t a saint. Every nerve ending in my skin screamed for him to touch or lick.
With a gentle tug, Tristan walked backward and pulled me into the bedroom after him. My mountain lion purred—the sound vibrated through my body and settled deep in my core. Tristan’s chest rumbled in answer, and my knees grew weak.
Tristan’s white teeth flashed, but I stood mesmerized by the intense blue of his gaze. Heat spread across my body as his arms moved to my waist and shoulders to draw me in, snug up against his body; Popeye to my Olive Oyl.
Warm lips met mine. They pressed harder and when I opened my mouth, Tristan slipped his devilish tongue in. I could kiss this man forever. He could rob me of oxygen, and I’d still keep going, I’d still crave his kiss, and the taste of his skin. Right now, though, I wanted more. I pulled his body to mine, and deepened the kiss. Tristan growled, and snagged my hair tight in his grip. His strong arms crushed me to his hard chest. His body hummed with his leopard’s purr, rumbling against my breasts. My mountain lion vibrated, pushing her energy against my skin to get closer to Tristan.
With my head dizzy and my heart pounding, Tristan freed his hands, grabbed the top he despised so much, and ripped it apart. My skinny jeans followed shortly after. Were strength had advantages. Although I might miss my f
avourite shirt tomorrow.
My hands drifted to his waist, eager to return the favor. Tristan gently pushed them away and shook his head. Feline yellow flashed across his gaze, his leopard riding him. He wanted to lead.
Oh, hell. Who was I kidding? I wanted him to lead, too. I sighed and let my arms fall to my side.
His head ducked down and with a flick of his fingers, my bra popped off to expose my breasts to his mouth. They grew heavy and burned for more. My body throbbed with need, enjoying his torment, but wanting all of him. My mountain lion’s purr strengthened until my whole body vibrated in unison to the ache between my legs.
Every time my hands moved to act, to help accelerate this exquisite torture, Tristan chuckled and gently deflected my attempts. Not my turn. Not yet.
His hands grazed my body, caressing in smooth circles across my skin, making my nerves sing. As if he could hear the song, he revisited every sensitive spot that sent my pulse racing and made my breathing shallow.
I tensed, waiting for nightmares from my past to flare up like a bad case of indigestion and ruin the mood, but the horrid images never came. In Tristan’s arms, safety accompanied the growing sense of belonging and the warmth in my chest. I relaxed in his embrace.
My hands drifted to his waist again to grip his hips. He let me push him back a little. I fumbled with the zipper of his jeans, but managed to yank his pants down far enough for him to step out of them without taking his mouth off me. My greedy hands moved to his shirt next, and I pulled it over his head. His skin tasted like mojitos as I ran my tongue along the contours of his body.
More. Need more. The thought so intense, it burned my skin. My mouth travelled along Tristan’s sweet skin.
He grunted and responded by throwing me backward onto the bed. Before I could move, Tristan’s lips were on me again, this time lower. He ripped my underwear off and tossed them to the side.
“I’ve waited forever to taste you.” His head bent low and his hot mouth clamped onto me, taking away my breath and any comment I could form. I should’ve felt exposed, vulnerable, and I did, but in a good way. No memories of the past haunted my mind as Tristan’s tongue explored and stirred an inferno inside me. Heat raced through my veins, flushing my skin in wave upon wave of pleasure. His sapphire gaze met mine as I stared down the length of my body. My hands curled into his dark hair.
A tidal wave built inside me, but before the wave broke, Tristan stopped.
“No!”
He grinned and kissed his way down my inner thigh before nipping the sensitive skin on the inside of my knee. Hyper aware, my whole body jumped in response.
Tristan stood by the foot of the bed, naked and hard, and looked down at me. His defined muscles tense and ready. His dark hair mussed and shrouding his gaze, now speckled with leopard yellow. The absence of his body and hands created a rush of cold air. I shivered as goosebumps pebbled along my skin.
“Beautiful,” Tristan murmured.
Did he mean for me to hear him? Probably not. But his words warmed my skin from the inside out. He’d seen me naked plenty of times, and as a Were and Shifter respectively, Tristan and I were used to flaunting our birthday suits, but the bare desire burning in his gaze, called to me and my mountain lion. She continued to purr and push her energy forward.
Tristan paused and studied me, waiting. Waiting for what? Confirmation? Approval? Hell yeah! Pure contentment bubbled up, and I smiled.
Tristan’s shoulders relaxed. He found his jeans and took a condom out of the front pocket. Supes didn’t have to worry about diseases, but we did have to worry about pregnancy. Given my hesitation to complete the mate bond, the pitter-patter of little paws was definitely not on the table in the foreseeable future.
Quickly ripping the package open, Tristan rolled the condom on. His mouth and hands were on me again. Hot lips moved over my skin as he crawled on top of me, winding his way back until his mouth met mine to delve into another heady kiss. His naked body ground against mine, an incinerator of heat, hard and hot. His erection pressed into my stomach, and his knee wedged between my thighs to nudge them apart.
I gripped his hips, and pulled him closer. My nails elongated and dug in. Tristan growled against my mouth, before returning to take my breath away with his kiss. My feras yowled and screeched indecipherable threats if we dared to stop now. Tristan shifted slightly to slip his body between my legs.
An indescribable tenderness built within my mind and chest, something so fragile, yet strong and potent, the very idea of it expanded my chest as if my heart inflated with something other than blood.
Tristan left no room for worry or fear. The heat of him pressed against me sent all thoughts, all concerns, all logic from my mind and heart, leaving only Tristan, and the indescribable, overwhelming tenderness in my chest.
His hips flexed, and he pushed against me.
He paused, and his gaze sought mine. Infinitesimal shards of sapphire gems, streaked with leopard yellow to reveal the animal simmering beneath the surface, met my gaze with a need so intense it vibrated my body, my heart, my very being down the cellular level.
Yes, yes, and yes.
My mountain lion purred in agreement.
Sensing my unspoken agreement, Tristan slid inside with deliciously slow pressure, hard and thick.
We sighed in unison. With his hips flush with mine, he paused again. His mouth twitched. He tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear and sank his weight on top of me.
“You’re stunning,” he said. His full lips met mine in a gentle kiss. With his arms holding me tight, he started to move.
And my world shattered.
Chapter Seven
“Folgers got it wrong. The best part of waking up is going back to bed after you pee.”
~SnarkEcards
The sun snuck through the gaps between the blinds and sill to caress my face. The room smelled of night blooming jasmine and japonicas. It also smelled of Tristan…and me. A new smell. Earthy, and not unpleasant. Tristan’s arm draped across my midsection; a welcome weight and slight discomfort. His naked body pressed against the back of mine; slightly stuck with the remnants of sweat despite having cooled down.
I could lie like this forever; bathing in Tristan’s heat with the dew of lovemaking clinging to my skin, the faint caress of soft sheets and the crisp smells and sounds of a calm day.
My phone chattered. I ignored it, rolled around in bed, and snuggled against Tristan so my face smushed into his neck. His honeysuckle scent engulfed my nose and I took in deep breaths, wanting to get back to the place of tranquility before technology rudely interrupted.
My phone chittered again. And again. And again.
I groaned and flopped back in bed.
“Mrrmmph.” Tristan’s hand groped for me.
I reached over to the night stand and checked my screen. Five missed calls from Stan. Crap! Stan and Lafleur had told me the paperwork and red-tape would take at least a couple of weeks for approval. In the meantime, they’d only call me in as a consultant if something big came up.
I tapped in my password and hit Stan’s contact information. He picked up right away.
“Andy, finally,” he said. His voice sounded like it had been wrung through a cheese grater and then punched in the guts a few times.
“Sorry, late night,” I said. My heart swelled with the growing closeness to Tristan and the humming contentment of my body and feras. “What’s up?”
The silence on the other end droned on while I waited for Stan to make some snarky comment about my love life. It never came. Only the slight fuzzy sound of the connection. And then I heard it.
A sob.
“Stan?” I sat up in bed and pushed Tristan’s roaming hands away. The dendrites in my brain sent off a cacophony of warning sirens. “Stan, is everything okay?”
Tristan rolled onto his back. His eyes popped open under furrowed brows.
Another sob, this time louder, came through, followed by a sniff. “They…”
I waited, apprehension twisting my stomach into a knot. Tristan smoothed his hand down my leg and gave me a quick peck on the cheek before slipping out of bed. His footsteps padded against the laminate flooring as he made his way to the kitchen. He would’ve heard Stan’s voice. He knew something was up. He gave me space and privacy. The coffee maker started to gurgle in the kitchen, and I sent a mental thank you to Tristan.
“Stan, are you still there?” I asked after he’d been silent for what seemed like eons.
“They killed her,” he blurted out and then broke down into sobs.
“What?” I flung the sheet off and stood up. The cool morning air brushed over my naked skin and goosebumps pebbled on my arms and legs.
“My…my wife…she’s…Oh god!”
I stared at my phone, and my heart crunched in tune with the sounds of pain coming from the other end. His wife was dead? I’d never met Stan’s partner in crime, but I knew the veteran cop loved her unconditionally. His face always lit up when he spoke of her. Stan emitted another sob, and I wanted to reach through my cell phone and hug him.
“Where are you?” I asked.
Stan didn’t answer.
“Stan! Where are you?” I demanded.
“The precinct,” he mumbled. “They left me in the staffroom. They won’t tell me anything that’s going on. No one will talk to me. Except…” He sniffed loudly into the receiver. “…except to say they’re sorry for my… Fuck!” He drew in a long breath through his nose. “I didn’t…I didn’t know who else to call.”
“Well, you called the right person. I’ll be right there, buddy. Just…just hold on, okay?”
Tristan! I mentally called out.
I caught it all. Go. I’ll lock the door on my way out, he replied.
Thank you, I replied. So much for a romantic breakfast in bed and another round of hide the sausage. Screw it. What a selfish thought. My plans were insignificant to Stan’s pain. Tristan understood. We’d have plenty of mornings together later.
I threw open the window and shifted to my falcon form. The transformation would cleanse my body and soul and give me time to think during the ten minute flight to the precinct. Stan had arranged for a change of clothes and a lock box on the precinct’s roof after my meeting with Lafleur. No gallivanting around naked in front of the VPD. It meant telling Stan and Lafleur about my falcon form. After they got over it, they decided it was pretty cool. Now, I was thankful I dished my secret,
Shift Work (Carus #4) Page 5