"You two in an eating match?" She stacked the dishes in her arms.
Tristan chuckled. "We didn't eat breakfast."
"Looks to me like you haven't eaten in a while." She shook her head, hair swishing from side to side.
"Everything was so good, thanks."
"You two save room for dessert?"
My cheeks heated when Tristan answered the question without looking at the waitress. "Got any whipped cream?"
"Don't think we've got that kind of dessert," she said.
I choked, and Tristan dropped his head back and laughed.
After catching my breath, I said, "No, ma'am. I think we'll just take the check. Sorry about that."
With one hand resting on her hip, she bent at the waist. "Honey, they don't make 'em this way much anymore." She nodded at Tristan. "By the goofy grin that's been on his face, he's over-the-moon for you." She straightened her spine.
"Yes, ma'am," I admitted, chewing on my lower lip.
Back on the road, Tristan and I played license plate war.
"The next car that drives by will have Colorado plates." I tightened my hands on the steering wheel.
"Nope, Texas," Tristan countered. We both glanced at the car when it drove past us. "Ha! Spud, you really suck at this game."
Leaning my head against the headrest, I glowered.
"Ya know, you're kind of sexy when you're mad."
My knuckles stung when I punched his upper arm. "Whatever."
Thank goodness Tristan dozed the last thirty minutes of the trip. Listening to him carry on about me losing sucked. Another plus to him sleeping was it allowed me to check into the bed-and-breakfast without him demanding more questions.
When I hopped back in the car, he was wide-eyed.
"Nice place, Spud."
I shrugged, playing off the excitement eating at me.
"Yeah." I popped the trunk. "Wanna help with these?"
Tristan stretched his arms then met me in the back to pick up the luggage, while I unlocked the front door to the cottage. Once settled into the room, we unpacked clothes and checked out the local weekend activities. I'd planned a dinner outside, with candles and cotton-candy champagne for dessert. The thought of the trip was a no-thinking kind of getaway. So far so good.
"You wanna check out a few wineries?"
"Sounds good." I smiled, joining him on the couch next to the bed.
Jitters crammed in my gut. "I'll be back. Bathroom break."
Tristan nodded, still glancing over the list of wineries.
As conspicuous as possible, I grabbed my new black outfit and snuck into the bathroom.
Let the weekend fun begin.
Tristan
The evening breeze drifted around the fire, heating the private patio. Elle shivered several times, though never complained about the chill.
"I think I may be in a food coma when we leave." She shoved her plate away, nodding to the half-eaten food in front of me. "Not hungry?"
Not even close. The way she looked tonight stole my attention. Every few bites I'd look up to find a new breathtaking detail to admire. Hair curled and draped to one side revealed her long neck–plenty of room to nibble. She wore a one-piece outfit, but the extra-thin material clung to her body, showcasing curves–my hands pleaded to roam every arch and dip, not to mention the ones hidden. Hungry, hell yes, but for so much more than food.
"More like ready for dessert."
The dim light from candles and the low-setting bulbs still didn't hide the blush across her cheeks. Elle sipped her wine before answering. "Didn't your mom ever say you can't have dessert until you finish dinner?"
The woman toyed with my sanity. I growled, starved and ready to devour every inch of her. "I'm not one to follow rules. You should know that by now." I gestured to her plate. "You finished?"
She nodded, swallowing the last sip of her drink.
"About damn time." I stood, walked around the small table, and reached out my hand. Elle's left one fit in mine, her warmth spreading through me as she stood. I swept my thumb across her knuckles, loving the piece of jewelry resting on her finger.
Elle's voice turned breathy. "Are we going inside or did you plan to stare at me all night?"
In one smooth jerk, her body pressed against mine. "Staring." I gripped her hip with my other hand, grinding into her. "Sucking, licking," I said, spreading my hand on her ass. "Biting and a few other surprises are definitely in store tonight."
Elle's pupils dilated, her lips parted, and her sweet wine-scented breath rushed out, hitting my face. "O-okay," she said, voice shaking.
We left the side doors open, allowing the light from outside to shadow inside the room. Elle turned, her back facing me in front of the queen-sized bed, and let her hair loose from the band. She reached behind her back to unzip the one-piece contraption she wore.
I beat her to it. "I got it," I said, voice low. My hands shook–the task simple, but the need to be with her made not ripping the material off difficult. Finally, the fabric flowed to a puddle at her feet. Elle was naked under the material. It was a damn good thing I hadn't known, or we'd have skipped to dessert first. I stepped back to admire her. "Beautiful."
Elle glanced over her shoulder. "My turn," she said, no embarrassment coloring her voice.
Elle took the few steps toward me. My eyes dropped, enjoying the view of her clad in only black heels. Lucky man, I thought, before she worked at the buttons on my shirt. Her fingers weren't quick enough. I tugged, and buttons clanked against the hardwood floors.
Elle crossed her arms, accentuating her breasts. "Not fair," she reprimanded.
I grinned, rushing out of the last of my clothing. "Not a patient man, Spud." I stalked forward, backing her to the edge of the bed.
"I thought I was in charge this weekend?" Elle scooted up the bed, legs bent and spread apart. Sitting up on her elbows, she glared.
My dick throbbed, aware that slow may not happen during the first round. I wrapped my arms under the crook of her knees and pulled her to me. "Like I said, impatient." Without any other explanation, I licked between her folds.
Elle lifted off the bed.
"Nope." I tugged her back in place, holding her firmly. Wet and panting, I continued applying pressure against her swollen clit until she cried out.
"Tristan, I–" Her body trembled under my control, further increasing the pain in my dick.
"Elle, open your eyes." I lined up with her opening. A flush crossed her cheeks, and her chest rose quickly. I dipped down and swirled my tongue around a hardened nipple, relishing the grunted reply she gave.
I glanced up as Elle opened her eyes, finding mine. In one hard motion, I rocked into her. The sound of pleasure came out of us at the same time. I released her knees to drape over her body. Elle rolled her hips, and I pumped into her again, this time with more force. God, I wanted to keep going, but my balls didn't have the same plan. I stopped, catching my breath.
"Don't stop." Elle grabbed my face.
"I don't know how much longer I can last."
She moved her hips, and I hissed through clenched teeth. "Don't stop," she demanded again.
I slammed into her tightness, once, twice, and a third before collapsing on top of her.
Elle's fingertips grazed up and down my back. Thank God we left the doors open. The outside breeze cooled the sweat coating our heated skin.
"I love you," Elle said.
I lifted, still inside Elle. Concern knotted in my stomach. "Are you okay?"
She tilted her head and frowned. "I'm good, like so good."
Satisfied that no signs of a lie showed, I pulled out and rested beside her on the bed. "Ah, you're not hurt?" I moved the strand of hair from her cheek.
"Tristan, we can have sex." She rolled to her side, resting her head on her hand. "Is that why you haven't touched me? Because you were afraid of hurting me?"
That, among other worries.
"I wanted you to be ready," I said, brushing a quick
kiss on her lips. "What you went through–when you lost the baby…"
Elle covered my mouth with her index finger. "We lost something together. Besides that, I never stopped wanting you, ever."
I hadn't realized until she said it out loud. My fear of losing her came crashing back. "You're right, sorry."
"Hey," Elle whispered, cupping my face. Her eyes shined with moisture. "I love you more every day, and when we're ready, you are who I want to start a family with."
Elle flipped the reins to her hands, brushing her lips with mine.
And once more, I loved her.
Elle
Tristan collapsed next to me on the bed, panting. He smiled, and I moved the hair stuck to his forehead to see his eyes.
"Do you think we're caught up now?"
Tristan supplied me with a cocky grin. "Did I wear you out?"
"Something like that," I said, then kissed his nose.
"How about a shower?" He waggled his brows. "Then we come back for round three?"
I nudged his shoulder then sat up. "Calm down, Superman." The sheets slid onto the floor when I stood. "I'll get the water ready." Tristan whistled, and I had to admit, I added an extra sway in my stride.
Beat both physically and emotionally, we passed out with towels wrapped around us. The clock next to the table read seven-thirty when I opened my eyes again. I flopped over, debating if I should wake Tristan or not.
One hand covered his face, his breathing even from sleeping pretty hard. I shifted and so did the covers, exposing his bare stomach and the v-line leading toward his cock.
As quietly as possible, and carefully as I could, I lifted the end of the sheets and crawled up his body. My stomach flipped. I wanted to show him as much pleasure as he'd always given me.
No problem, I could totally do it, and Alyssa had given me plenty of pointers.
Tristan's leg jumped, and he snorted. I froze, statue-still until he settled. Heart racing, I gulped, pushing the nerves down. With shaking hands, I grabbed his thickness and licked my lips in preparation. With my tongue, I traced the tip of him first before sucking him inside my mouth.
"Elle?" The sheets flew off, and Tristan lifted his head, staring down at me.
I applied pressure with my hand while my mouth pulled him in deep.
"Fuck," he said, lifting his hips off the bed. Tristan tangled his hands in my hair, encouraging me.
Alyssa mentioned something about playing with his balls, but I tuned that part out, now I wished I hadn't.
"Spud," Tristan grunted, body stiffening. "Baby, I need you to stop."
Nope, not gonna happen.
"Elle–" Gripping the sheets, Tristan bucked his hips, filling my mouth. I continued milking his length as warm, salty fluid shot down my throat. God, I was so turned on.
Fire spread across my face when I finally met his stare. "Um, good morning? Thought I'd try something new." I scraped my bottom lip between my teeth, waiting.
Awe, or maybe even disappointment, colored his face.
"Sorry." I shrugged. "First time." I shifted, ready for him to say great job or we'll work on your oral skills later, but whatever it was, he needed to spit something out.
Instead of words, Tristan sat up and kissed me slow and sweetly, brushing the insecurities from my mind.
He released my lips. "Perfect. Everything you do is perfect."
Tristan and I showered, again, and since we'd missed breakfast we found an amazing barbecue place not far from the winery where we booked our tour. A cute couple sat in the booth directly beside us, laughing and talking a little louder than necessary.
I tossed the napkins in the basket. "You ready?"
"To get you drunk? Hell, yes."
"Hey, maybe I'm trying to get you drunk?"
He shrugged. "Works for me." Then, "Do you have directions to the wine place?"
"Fat Ass Winery, yes, it's on my phone."
The lady sitting next to us squealed. "Y'all are going to visit Fat Ass Wines?" Her drawl was more southern than Texan, I decided.
"Yes."
"First time?" The guy sitting with her joined the conversation.
"Yeah, first time," Tristan offered.
"Honey, we should show them around." She clapped and squealed again.
Tristan and I glanced at each other with surprised concern then back to the couple.
"We're newlyweds. Got hitched two days ago and flew straight here." She sighed, placing her hand over her oversized chest.
"We met here and decided to honeymoon," he said, accent not as thick as his wife's.
Aside from the boisterous personalities, they were sweet. "Well, congratulations," I said.
"Thanks," the couple said in tandem.
Tristan muffled a laugh by coughing. I kicked him under the table, mainly to keep myself from joining him. The side of my foot stung, and I winced.
The man asked, "So, you two married?"
Tristan and I shook our heads.
"Oh, oh you're engaged." The lady, whose name I still didn't know, grabbed her husband's arm and squeezed. "Aww, this is so meant to be. We've got to hang out!"
I swallowed. "Um–"
"Let's see your ring." She jumped out of her booth to ours in a matter of seconds. Seconds. The lady had officially frightened me. She yanked my hand then frowned. "Oh, it's, um, simple but exquisite."
This time, Tristan cut her off. "It was my grandmother's." He held my hand, rubbing his calloused thumb across my knuckles. "Diamond or not, Elle would shine brighter. She's anything but simple." He squeezed our hands. "She's damn near perfect."
She screeched and hopped up, jarring the table. "Oh. My. God. That is just about the sweetest thing I've ever heard," she said.
"By the way, my name's Roger, and this is my gorgeous bride, Gwen." He nudged Tristan's shoulder. "Pretty smooth words," he whispered, and I gnawed on the inside of my cheek to hide my smile.
"Bret and Alyssa," Tristan said, shaking his hand.
I kicked him under the table, that time harder.
"Aww, nice to meet you. Wait." Gwen waved a finger between us. "Didn't you call her another name just a second ago?"
"No," I answered.
"My ears hear the wrong things all the time." She shoved me over and sat beside me. The husband, Roger, did the same to Tristan–whoops, I mean Bret.
"How long are you lovebirds staying?"
"We leave tomorrow." Gwen opened her mouth, but I quickly followed up with, "Morning." Putting my non-existing acting skills to good use, I pouted. "Yeah, we've got to head back. His sister Tisha is really needy and hates when he leaves for extended periods of time."
The couple didn't know what to think of the story, hell I hadn't either. Tristan folded his hands together, resting them on the table.
I winged it. "Yeah, they were orphans, and she tends to get a little freaked when she's alone."
Gwen's sapphire eyes widened. "Oh, bless your heart."
The husband jumped on the bullshit bandwagon. "Well, you sure are a good man." Roger slapped Tristan on the shoulder. "Honey, we're buying them a drink."
"Yes, yes!" She clapped. Again.
A few glances were tossed our way, but the smirk on Tristan's face said he enjoyed the game.
Our new buddies decided they'd follow us in their car to the winery. Once Tristan and I buckled in, I shot around, waiting for an explanation. He gave me nothing. "Bret, dear," I said through closed teeth.
"Don't go blowin' a gasket, Amazon." He backed out, heading down the street.
My cheeks hurt from grinning, but I couldn't hold in the laughter. "I can't believe you made up a story."
He whipped his head around and frowned. Hair fell in his eyes, and I moved the piece once he stopped at a red light. "You didn't seem to have any problems playing along."
True, I actually had fun pretending to be someone else. "Okay, so we stick to the story, then ditch our new pals in no time."
Tristan circled the tin building, found a pa
rking spot, and pulled in. "Sounds like a plan." He unbuckled his seat belt, then turned to me. Face serious, he said, "Does it bother you that you don't have a diamond?" He brushed my cheek, and a shiver rolled through me.
"No, Tristan. I'm honored to wear your grandmother's ring. I couldn't care less about big and flashy." I tweaked the end of his nose. "We're really going through with this?"
"Yup, can't wait to see what else you come up with." And with that, we walked hand-in-hand to meet Gwen and Roger standing at the front door.
Wine, cheese, wine, a snack, and off to more wine. The last memory of the night was dancing with Gwen on the speakers in a honky-tonk bar. The live band jammed out to Zeppelin and other classic rock hits. Tristan intercepted a shot before I could slam the contents down.
"Spud, you're way over the limit."
Rational thought left me back at the winery. I slid between Tristan's legs, grinding into his length. He hissed, one hand pressed against the small of my back and the other gripped my hip.
"Take me home," I whispered against his mouth. The hint of my coconut flavored shot rested on his lips.
"Spud–"
I cut the next words off with a kiss. Fire spread through my insides and then it hit. I backed away, barely able to catch the disappointment when Tristan understood what was about to happen.
Head dunked in a trash can, in a bar, screamed all sorts of possible bacteria, but once nausea hit, the party was over. Tristan carried my groaning ass to the car, and back to the room we went–still drunk.
The last time I looked at the clock, it read six thirty. I'd slept the entire night. Current condition, my head pounded and my mouth felt like I'd sucked on lemon-flavored cotton balls. Not an awesome combo, especially mixed with the loud buzzing noise from the bathroom. Thankfully the sound shut off before adding more duress.
The bathroom door opened, and steam followed, along with an attractive six-foot-three, freshly shaven handsome man. Guilt crept in me from ruining the last night of our weekend. Even though it didn't end as planned, we had managed to seal the gap between us, so not a complete failure.
Interception (Distraction #3) Page 14