He tortured me for a few seconds like that and then he stood back up, slipping his boxers off as he did. His cock sprang to attention and he took it in one of his hands and with the other he pushed and lifted me up a few inches. Then he finally plunged inside of me. I was so wet and ready that there was no resistance. He slipped all the way into me in one fluid motion. Then he wrapped both arms around me and I wrapped my legs tightly around his waist.
When he hit bottom I moaned and Tristan said, “Fuck!” Probably too loudly, but at that point, I didn’t care.
He was moving his hips and moving mine up and down with his strong arms as he did. I had my mouth on his shoulder, sucking and biting at the flesh there and I could feel his jaw clenched tightly against my face.
His breaths got more ragged with each forceful thrust and I suddenly felt the top half of me be propelled backwards so my head was against the wall and my back was arched. He dipped his head down and sucked and licked and nibbled on one of my nipples as I prayed for the strength to stay silent. I wanted to fucking scream it felt so good.
I was writhing against him and whimpering as he moved, slowly but forcefully, against me. He was moving his hips so that each time he buried himself inside of me, my clit would rub up against his pelvis and make me shudder. I was bucking against his thrusts, and when he brought his face back up I crushed my lips back against his and locked us into a long, hot, wet kiss.
“Oh god, Tristan!” I breathed out against his mouth.
“You like it, Elly? Tell me what you like, baby. Tell me what you want.”
“I want it all! Harder, Tristan, fuck me hard. I want you deep inside of me. Oh god! Oh fuck!”
“I won’t last long if we go fast,” he said, breathlessly.
I giggled and said, “Perfect, we don’t have long. Fuck me, Tristan, hard.”
He obliged. Our bodies rocked together, him slamming against me and me against the wall. I could feel his cock swelling inside of me and just before I came, I threw my head forward again and bit down on his shoulder.
He was fucking me so hard that if the wall hadn’t been behind me, I would have flown across the room. My nails were digging into his back as he said, “Fuck! I’m cumming, Elly!”
I grunted out, “Me too.”
I felt his muscles all go tense as he gave one last hard thrust and then I felt my own orgasm tearing through me. I moaned. I’d lost all control, all sense of whether someone would hear or not.
“Yeah, baby,” he said with his lips pressed against my neck, “That’s it, cum with me.”
That caused another full body shiver as our juices both rushed out and mingled together all across his cock. I could feel the excess running out as he continued to hold me, pressed against the wall. My body was shaking all over and he waited for it to subside and for my breathing to become less ragged before turning me around and sitting me down on the sofa.
He dropped down next to me and said, “Jesus fuck!”
“You said it,” I told him. There were just no other words. “We should get back out there,” I told him.
He nodded, and while we both got dressed, neither of us spoke. Once we were put back together, we went out and found my mother and father now at the dessert table.
“There you are,” my mom said. “Did you try the cheesecake? It was so good; I’m going back for another piece.”
Tristan was holding back a grin as I said, “I had a piece, it was incredible.”
My parents were leaving in the morning. They said goodnight to Tristan before he left and as they were saying goodbye to me, my mother said,
“I sure do like that boy. He’s got eyes for you, Elly.”
“We’re just friends, Mom.” My mind flashed to the hot sex we’d just had.
“I can see how he looks at you. You should give it a chance.” She was sincere.
I smiled. “Bye, Mom. I love you.”
She smiled and patted my face with her hand. “I love you, too,” she said.
Chapter Nine
Tristan
It was round ten; just me and Ethan were left. I was sitting up on stage listening to him sing Truly, Madly, Deeply by Savage Garden. He was doing a damned good job of it, too. He had upped the tempo of the chorus and given it a whole new sound. Bastard! I was a nervous wreck before he sang; afterwards, I was so nervous that I was afraid my voice would shake when I opened my mouth to sing.
I was trying to think of something else, anything else. My mind went back to Elly and me having sex in the dressing room after her concert. That was fun. She was most definitely the hottest piece of ass that I’d ever had. I counted myself lucky that she remembered me from that stupid boy band and sought me out that night. Doubly lucky, I guess, because she’d talked me into getting sober. Then there was giving me a place to stay. Shit, I was going to have to think about something else; it was sounding too much like a relationship.
I thought about what I was going to do with a million bucks. The first thing would obviously be to get a place to stay. I had no idea where I was going from there, so I wasn’t going to buy a house or anything permanent like that. The thought of being tied to anything made me feel like I couldn’t breathe. I would rent an apartment. A much nicer one than the piece of shit I’d gotten evicted from, maybe one by the beach. I loved the beach; it’s the one place that I felt at peace when everything else around me went to shit. Yeah, that’s what I’d do; I’d rent a place over on Venice Beach…or maybe Huntington.
Maybe I’d get a car, too, after we got back off out tour. I was looking forward to that—getting the hell out of that fucking city. They call it the city of angels. Sometimes I wondered if that really means the city of the angel of death. It would suck the life right out of you if you let it.
I realized I got caught up in my thoughts and Ethan had stopped singing. Everyone was clapping and cheering. They loved him. Shit. I didn’t want him to suck, but I was hoping he wouldn’t do quite so well. I wanted to leave there and be able to tell myself it was in the bag. After his performance, I was going to have to sweat it out until Thursday, no matter how well I did.
The judges all loved him, too. I listened as they told him so and when they talked about how close the contest was going to be. They said it was anyone’s contest. My stomach twisted up tighter than it already was. Ethan smiled at me as he took his seat and I honestly tried to smile back, but it probably came out looking like a grimace. I stepped up to the microphone and willed the butterflies in my stomach to go away. I felt light-headed and in a moment of doubt I wasn’t sure if I would be able to do it. I actually thought about conceding defeat right there.
I closed my eyes for just a second, to get my bearings, and then I looked out at the audience and I saw Elly’s face. She looked like she had confidence in me. She saw me looking out at her and she smiled. I pictured what she looked like when we had sex. Her hair would be in her face, all wet from sweat and sticking to her forehead and her cheeks would be all flushed—she was so sexy. I had to stop there or I’d have a hard-on in front of millions of people. That made me laugh in my head and I suddenly felt better…calmer.
I was doing a country song. It was by Brad Paisley and called Don’t take the Girl. The pianist had tried to talk me out of it. That day when we practiced he said, “It’s a really popular song, Tristan. If you change it up too much people might not like it.”
“Then fuck ‘em,” I said.
The drummer laughed and the pianist said, “That attitude won’t get you any votes.”
I shrugged again and said, “This isn’t an attitude contest. If it were I wouldn’t have even entered it. It’s a talent contest and I know this song is good the way I put it together.” The pianist still looked skeptical, but he didn’t argue further. We did a practice run and I could feel how good it sounded when it was coming out.
When I finished it the pianist said, “I think I was wrong,” with a smile.
“I think you were too,” the drummer said.
&n
bsp; I thought about that as I stood up at the mic and suddenly the nerves returned. I knew it was good, but the real question I guess was whether or not everyone else would like it and vote for me. I tried to stuff that down and just sing. I had so much nervous energy built up and I was never sure if the nervous energy would help or hinder my performance.
When I opened my mouth, it all fell away and I just got into the song. When I finished, the whole theatre, including the judges, was up—standing ovation all around. Suddenly Ethan was the one that looked nervous.
Diva was crying. She did that a lot, but this time she had real tears. “You just won my heart,” she said.
The country star was grinning and he said, “Amazing.”
The record producer just gave me thumbs up and a smile, but that was a lot coming from him. I could see Elly on her feet. She was putting her fingers in the sides of her mouth and whistling. It was cute. I walked out of the theatre that night feeling like that million dollars was already in my pocket.
Chapter Ten
Elly
Once again, Tristan was incredible. I left the theatre knowing that unless American’s were absolutely out of their freaking minds, he had this contest in the bag. We’d gone home together and both of us were too wound up to sleep. He seemed really nervous still. He’d made a few little suggestions that we have wild sex on my bed. He said it would get rid of his nervous energy. But Susie was home in her room with a friend. They were studying and I would just be too self-conscious doing it right in the room next door. Our walls were pretty thin. Susie’s friend already looked Tristan up and down when Susie introduced them like he looked good enough to eat. I didn’t want to encourage her any further.
So, we were sitting on my couch watching television. There was a re-cap of the show on the ten o’clock news and the news anchor was gushing about Tristan and how good he was. She looked like maybe his singing wasn’t all that she was interested in—she had the same look on her face that Susie’s friend had. I wondered what it felt like to have people you didn’t even know adore you like that. Tristan hardly seemed fazed by it at all. He must have gotten used to it when he was a kid and had all of the little teenyboppers throwing themselves at him.
He did seem a little uptight and antsy though. He wasn’t much of a talker, so I didn’t even ask him what was going on in his head. I was sure that it had to be an incredible amount of pressure to sit and wait and wonder if he was going to win. I don’t think that I would handle it very well.
“Let’s go for a ride,” he said out of the blue.
“A ride? On the bike?”
“No, on my horse,” he said with a smirk.
I raised my eyebrows. “Don’t be an ass.”
“Come on, let’s go for a ride…please.”
I looked out the window. “It’s kind of late.”
“Will you turn into a pumpkin at midnight?”
“No…”
“Come on. My nerves are killing me and I’m not going to be able to sleep. A ride will calm me down; it always does, especially if I go down to the beach.” He was at least admitting that he was nervous. That was new.
“You don’t really need me for that,” I said. The truth was riding on the back of his bike scared the shit out of me. He drove like a bat out of hell and I didn’t want to die splattered across the pavement.
“No, I don’t need you, but I’d like you to go.”
I gave a heavy sigh. “Ugh! I like it better when you’re a sarcastic ass. It’s easier to say no.”
He grinned and said, “We could fuck instead. I’m sure that would work too. I really, really want to do you on that big, frilly bed.”
I rolled my eyes. He never gave up. “Fine, we’ll go for a ride on the bike. But you have to promise not to drive like a maniac. It scares the shit out of me.”
He laughed and said, “That’s why you don’t want to go? My driving scares you?”
“Yeah, it does. The last time I rode with you I thought I was going to die. I came right back here and put my affairs in order in case there was a next time.”
“I was high the last time you rode with me. I barely remember it.”
“Gee, thanks, I feel so much better,” I told him.
“You lived, I’m sober now; I’ll drive like your fucking grandmother. Come on, let’s go. I really need to get out of here. We’ll go down to Venice Beach.”
I rolled my eyes again then went and put on my jacket and shoes. My grandmother was dead, but I’d be willing to bet he wasn’t going to be driving like her, sober or not. I tapped on Susie’s door and said, “We’re going out for a bit.”
“You kids be good!” She yelled back.
When we got out to the parking lot, he handed me the helmet and swung himself onto the bike. I got on the back and was getting settled as he said, “Hang on for your life,” with an evil laugh. I started to climb back off and he laughed again and said, “I’m just kidding, you big sissy.”
If I was a praying woman, I would have prayed. As it were, I got on with my fingers crossed.
We drove down the street I lived on and he got onto the freeway. Before too long, miles of the beautiful Pacific Ocean stretched out along either side of us. He exited the freeway when we got to Venice Beach. We drove down Abbot Kinney Boulevard, a really cozy little place in L.A. with mom and pop stores that lined either side of the street as well as specialty boutiques, casual bars, and top-rated restaurants. It was known as the place where the rich hippies went to party and shop.
It was one of the few places in L.A. where you saw only a handful of chain stores or restaurants. Instead, it was a proud mix of writers, local artists, and young dot.commers. On the first Friday of every month, you could buy just about anything out of the market they did on the street. They would have food and drink vendors and live music. Susie and I came down sometimes just to hang out and shop. It surprised me that Tristan brought me there, especially when everything seemed so quiet.
He drove past the shops and nightclubs and restaurants and bars until we came to a narrow little street at about a forty-five degree angle towards the beach. He followed it down until we came to a small parking lot where he parked and turned off the bike. I slipped off, pulled off my helmet, and looked around.
“It’s so peaceful,” I said.
He got off the bike and said, “Ahem! I think you owe me a thank you.”
“For what?”
“Driving so nicely and getting you here in one piece,” he said.
I had to admit, he hadn’t scared me once on the way there. Maybe I was just getting used to him; that was a scary thought.
“Yeah, this is where I come sometimes to clear my head. This time of night, you have the beach to yourself. You want to go down by the water?”
“Sure.” I watched him sit down and pull off his boots and then his socks. He sat them next to his bike and then bent down to roll up the legs of his jeans. He looked at me then and said,
“You’re not going to take off your shoes?”
“What if I step on something?” He rolled his eyes and shook his head.
“Live a little, Elly,” was all he said. He started walking down the steps that led to the sand that stretched out towards the ocean.
“Wait for me,” I told him as I slipped off my shoes and bent down to take off my socks. I rolled my socks together and then sat my shoes next to his boots. He was waiting for me at the bottom of the stairs with an amused expression on his face. I made my way down towards him and he started walking again. He was definitely in no danger of ever being called a gentleman.
The beach was deserted and the moon, almost full, hung down low in the sky. If you looked right out into the ocean, the moon seemed to be dipping down in it. The beams shot silver up towards the clouds and made them look like they’d been dusted with something shiny. The tide had rolled in and the sand underneath my feet was wet. It felt good as the skin of my feet and toes molded to it with every step. Tristan was walking next to me,
but he seemed to be in his own little world as he looked out onto the ocean. He seemed to know where he was going.
After a bit, he stopped abruptly and said, “Tide pool.”
“What?”
“Look down.”
I looked down at my feet and sure enough, there was a little tide pool with water swirling around the rough skin of one gray and one purple sea urchin. There were a few tiny little shells and when I reached down to pick one up, I felt Tristan’s hand on my arm.
“Look,” he said, taking one between his thumb and finger and pulling it up out of the sand. As he brought it up towards me, tiny little legs dangled out. Within seconds the sand crab had pulled himself back up into the shell.
“Cool,” I said. Where I grew up, we didn’t have beaches close by. We went on a trip to the beach only every other year or so. I’d never seen a crab that wasn’t in a tank waiting to be eaten. “Can you eat those?”
Tristan looked at my face like he was trying to figure out if I was being serious or not. When he realized that I was he busted up laughing. He was laughing so hard that he had tears in his eyes as I waited him out with my arms folded. Finally he stopped and I said, “What is so funny?”
“Give me your hand,” he said. I didn’t put one out right away and in a mock wounded voice he said, “You don’t trust me?”
“What do you want my hand for?”
“You really don’t trust me,” he said. Annoyed with him, I put out my hand. He sat the shell on my palm and said, “Hold still for a sec.” I held it still for quite a few seconds before something tickled my hand and I saw the shell start moving slowly towards my fingers. “Look at those tiny little legs,” he said. “When you asked if people ate them I just had this image of someone using a cracker and trying to get meat out of them.” I just gave him a look. I had the same image now and it was so ridiculous it was funny, but I wasn’t going to admit that to him. All of a sudden I felt a sharp pain.
“Ow! It bit me!” I said as I tossed the little crab back down into the sand and watched it scurry away.
Dirty SEAL (A Navy SEAL Romance) (The Maxwell Family) Page 50