Tristan settled his fingers just barely underneath the band on her panties, and Peyton whimpered. He moved his hand back and forth from hip bone to hip bone, revealing the feel of her silky skin. With slow and steady movements, his fingertips played in the nest of curls covering her sex, until she squirmed. His fingers easily slid in her folds and Tristan nearly lost control when he realized how wet and ready she was.
Their eyes were locked on each other when Tristan found her protruding clit, and felt her shudder when he flicked it a few times, but she didn’t lose his gaze. Tristan scooted in closer to her and moved his index finger to her channel, and easily slipped inside. Peyton cried out, but kept still otherwise when he added another finger and pumped them in and out in slowly. Her hips were moving with his thrusts, and he knew she wasn’t going to hold on much longer. His thumb landed firmly on her clit, and he pressed down as he bit her naked shoulder, telling her against her skin, “Come for me, baby.”
Her answer was a staccato whimper and he could feel her core clutching at the intrusion as she panted her release. When her body stopped moving, and she relaxed against the blanket, he removed his glistening fingers. He was content to let her come back down and just rested his head against her body as she calmed.
Peyton started to stir against him, and Tristan raised his head back up and looked into the sated eyes of the woman that was the center of his world. Saying the words in his head didn’t scare him as much as he assumed it would, but it was still hard for him to feel so connected to someone. His little spitfire must have sensed a change in his mood because she was moving to straddle his right leg, keeping the blanket over her bare shoulders.
She unhooked the fly of his jeans, and tugged them down; he lifted his hips up so that she could free them. She moved off his leg and finished pulling until they were all the way off his body. She growled at him in a deep sexy way as she crawled over his body and grasped the edges of his briefs. After a few tugs, his erection sprung free and she grinned at him with the effort. She added his briefs to the pile of clothes on the edge of the blanket, and settled back down next to him.
Tristan kissed her softly a few times, feeling his cock tapping against her belly as he moved to his side. Their mouths mated casually while he pulled off her panties and tossed them to the side. He held her hip in his hand, and pulled her close, then rolled so that her naked body was pressed into his. Barely able to reach, he grabbed for the blanket that had fallen off, and he wrapped it around them both again.
Peyton didn’t need any instructions on what he wanted, and she leaned her face down to his neck, tickling his skin as she lightly moved her lips back and forth over his upper body. She paused long enough at his nipples to give them a quick tug in between her teeth and when Tristan didn’t respond, she did it again, with just a little more force. The combination of pleasure and pain shot straight to his cock, and he growled, “I need you…Now.”
She smiled at him smugly and waited as Tristan grabbed a condom from his discarded jeans and rolled it over his cock. Peyton then positioned herself over his shaft and eased herself down. Her face was visible in the moonlight and he could see her expression morphing in between pleasure and surprise. When she was fully seated, her face relaxed and she gave a tiny mewl.
Reaching for her hands, Tristan braced his arms so that she had something to push against. Peyton moved at her own pace, groaning with each movement. He could feel her body tensing up with each pass, and his own body was building to climax just as fast. Her tight core was squeezing him in deep, and he was struggling to hold back. The tingling in his spine was getting stronger and he knew that he wouldn’t last much longer.
Tristan let go of her hands and with precise aim, landed his thumb on Peyton’s swollen clit and she swore, “Oh, fuck, that’s it. I’m gonna come again, Tristan.”
That was all he needed to hear, and his body responded in full with an electrifying explosion as he pumped his seed inside the thin barrier. Peyton screamed something incoherent as she rode him, finally slowing when she was panting.
Peyton slipped off to the side and Tristan disposed of the condom. She snuggled into his chest and he wrapped them both up in the blanket. She gave a content sigh; he held her in a tight squeeze before he kissed her hair. The pair lay there, looking up at the peaceful night sky, and Tristan was left to wonder again what he’d done right to deserve this woman. The happiness rolling around reminded him of the lyrics to the song he’d started writing while in the hospital. There is no reason to drown out this pain, There is no reason to let it slip away…
The next words came to him, and he started to quietly sing, With you I don’t know how to explain, No one’s there to tell me to stay. The melody to the song was a simple three word staccato beat, Just give me…, A reason why, Just tell me, You’re ready to try…
“What was that, sweets?” Peyton asked with a husky voice.
Tristan smiled, “I started that song when I was in the hospital. It was a sad ode to being a fucked up mess, but my brain just morphed it into a love song. You like it?”
“Yeah, I do. Can you sing it to me from the beginning?”
“I only have the first few lines written and then the melody. But, yes, I will, baby.”
Tristan cleared his throat and sang the soulful words again, this time singing them directly to the woman in his arms. It was so much easier to sing to just one person, and not just all alone, and his voice was strong and steady.
“That was beautiful. When you finish it, let me know. I would love to sing it with you.”
Tristan nodded his head, as he twisted out from underneath Peyton, and propped himself up on his side. She did the same, and was facing him when he said, “I will. But you know what I would love?” he asked her before pulling her tightly against his body, and his recovered cock.
“I can only guess,” she answered with a mock eye roll and a laugh.
“I was hoping that I could impress you with some of my other skills tonight, not just my excellent singing voice, rock hard body, and quick wit.”
Peyton laughed, but played along. “I don’t know…I’m pretty impressed with these ripped muscles and the inverted V pack you’ve got going on down there,” she added with her finger trailing down his body.
Tristan couldn’t help but take the bait, and rolled her underneath him. “I have skills I haven’t even shown you yet, baby. I plan on making your scream my name a few more times before I let you sleep in my arms.”
Peyton went stiff underneath him, need filling her face again, and she whimpered her affirmation.
For the next two hours, out on their cozy beach hideaway, Tristan did just that and then held Peyton in his arms until the sun came up.
Chapter Nineteen
Tristan was almost done with his first night at Gabriel’s Supper Club, and was smiling and laughing along with the college age wait staff that worked there as they finished cleaning up. It had been a killer night he’d been told numerous times, and they hadn’t slowed down since the doors opened at five o’clock.
Gabriel was standing behind the bar with Tristan, running numbers from his old fashioned till, humming along to the music on the overhead sound system, when he yelled out to the group, “Bucca time!”
Everyone left behind yelled and catcalled back to Gabriel and they all lined up at the bar. Tristan wasn’t sure what the name meant, but he could tell that he would be involved in whatever it was, since they were all looking at him expectantly.
Gabriel didn’t say anything as he walked over to the rim rack of booze, grabbed a tall, thin bottle with blue writing and the ice shaker from the wash rack. He added ice to the metal cup and twisted off the bottle’s pour-on top, tipping a large slug directly into the shaker. Then, he put a strainer lid on top and vigorously shook the container from side the side. He lined up six shot glasses on the bar, poured into each one a cloudy liquid and then handed them out to each one of his employees.
There was one girl sitting at the
end of the bar that declined the glass that was passed to her and held up her water bottle instead. Tristan was pretty sure that her name was Susy, but not positive. “Six months from now, I will, but until then, I pass. Don’t need any cops here because of me,” she added.
Tristan was handed the last glass, and Gabriel raised up the two shot glasses that were left in a cheers, “Salute!” Everyone downed their shots together, and Tristan did too. The booze was black licorice flavored and since it was cold, it went down smooth. The group all did an appreciative “Ahhh,” and left their glasses on the bar, slapping each other on the back as they grabbed their coats from the break room and headed out the back door.
The entire scene was strange and Tristan must have had an odd look on his face, because when Gabriel turned around again to say something, he stopped mid-sentence and started laughing a deep belly laugh.
“Shit, I’m sorry, kid. I should have told you that we always end the night with a shot. It’s my way of telling everyone if we had a good night or not. If I yell out for shots, then they know we’ll live to see another day.”
Tristan just shrugged his shoulders. “It’s your business, Gabriel. It was just surprising that you let them drink before they all go home. Isn’t that illegal for a lot of different reasons?”
Gabriel shrugged as he walked around the bar and headed towards his office. The girl with the waterbottle was still there at the end of the bar, but was wearing her coat and had her purse in her hands. Tristan knew from her earlier statement that she was twenty years old, and she was a pretty little blonde with big blue eyes. Her face was overdone with way too much make-up and she had giant hoop earrings in that looked like they were too heavy for someone so petite.
“Hey, Tristan. Looking for some company tonight?” she asked with a little too much enthusiasm and he had to pinch himself from laughing at her.
“No, but thank you, Susy.”
Tristan could see the defeat on her face, but it was quickly replaced with something else. She sneered at him, “That’s right. You’re one of them slap ‘em and fuck ‘em guys from the club outside of town that was just shut down. Yeah, you’re right, I don’t get off on getting the shit kicked out of me.”
The front door opened and closed, and Susy looked at whoever was walking in and she gave a tiny wave, with a smug look on her face.
Tristan knew that Susy was just a kid, and she probably had no clue what she was talking about, but he couldn’t let anyone here have that impression of him. “I don’t know where you get your information from, but I’m not into that stuff.”
A familiar voice answered, “What stuff?” A very similar looking blonde walked into the bar area and Tristan could feel his pulse shoot through the roof when he realized that the person that just entered the bar was the last mindless chick he’d done before he became serious with Peyton. And judging by the hungry look in her eyes, she knew exactly who he was, too.
Susy spoke up again, “Oh, I just offered Tristan a good time, but he’s one of them perverts that gets rough before he can get a woman off.”
The blonde reprimanded her in a mocking way, “Now, little sister. Don’t talk about things you don’t understand. I had a good time with him a while back, and it actually felt pretty damn good when he slapped my ass a few times. Isn’t that right, babe?”
Tristan narrowed his eyes on the pair and was just about ready to lay into them, when another person stepped into the bar and spoke first, “Hmph. I think that you skanks need to get back to the street corners you came from. Tristan is spoken for, and he doesn’t need to slap around a woman if she knows what the fuck she’s doing in bed.”
Peyton was standing toe to toe with the taller blonde and was glaring daggers at her by the time she finished speaking. Tristan was dumbfounded by how defensive his woman was being, but it was fucking hot the way that she took over the situation and stood her ground.
The older blonde reached out for the younger one, and they stepped around a furious Peyton and left without another word. Tristan couldn’t help but smile as he made his way over to her, and grabbed her and swooped her up in a hug. She was stiff in his arms, and he let her go, but held her arms firm as he looked down at her tight face.
Tristan knew instantly that she was pissed off, even though he’d never seen her even a little bit angry before. The normally sweet smile was gone and there was a deep furrow in between her eyes. He wasn’t sure exactly why she was mad, or if she was mad at him, or the chicks that just left. Either way, Tristan should be the one that was upset right now for having his girlfriend defend him, but the rumors were bound to happen sooner or later. He knew that the gossip would spread like wildfire about Morgan’s nephew that whipped the hell out of a girl, and ended up in the mental institute. After all, Dominic and Chris closed the club because of it, so it had to be common knowledge.
“Are you mad at me, or mad at them? Just so I know what I’m up against.”
Peyton quirked her head to the side, “Both. Mad at them for acting like they can just take any man they want, and mad at you for not telling me that you had fucked Cara, the whore, not too long ago. She could have any number of diseases, Tristan.”
Tristan was surprised by her answer, but didn’t hesitate in retaliating. “I barely remember bagging her, Peyton, and she actually was one of the main reasons why I gave up being such a slut. Well, that and this hot little Portuguese siren that bosses me around helped there too.”
Peyton sighed, but smiled at him. “Oh, Tristan…what am I going to do with you?”
“Well, a good girlfriend would come home with me and spend the night at my place.”
Peyton smiled from ear to ear, practically bouncing on her tip toes. “Really? I can spend the night? Let me stop at home and get my sleeping bag and pillow. I love sleepovers!” she teased.
Tristan yanked her tiny body into his and growled in her ear, “You’re going to sleep right beside me, fancy pants. No sleeping bags allowed. Or clothes, for that matter.”
It was well after two o’clock in the morning on Saturday when Tristan and Peyton finally crawled into his queen size bed. The pair nestled in together and neither one had moved for quite some time when Tristan decided that Peyton must have fallen asleep. She was usually working at this time of night, and since it was her day off, she needed to sleep, especially since he’d kept her up half the night last night out on the beach.
Tristan whispered, “Good night, my baby,” and Peyton immediately answered on a dreamy sigh, “Good night, Tristan Blair Hart.”
His girl worked harder than most men, so Tristan decided he wanted her sleep. He didn’t have to be to work until seven o’clock that night and a little lovin’ could keep her occupied all morning if necessary.
Settling in to sleep himself, he was startled when Peyton spoke in a clear voice, “I’m not opposed to being a submissive woman, Tristan, if that’s what you need.”
He sat up in bed, pulling her with him, and asked, “What are you talking about?” Tristan knew she was talking about the shitty comment that Cara had made about him slapping her ass a few times, and was a bit pissed Peyton had to hear all that.
She said “restroom” as she tried to climb out of bed, but Tristan held her to him and spoke over the top of her, “Baby, I have no desire to treat you that way.” He kissed her forehead and added, “Not now, and not ever.”
Peyton looked up at him with a frown on her face. “I don’t know if I believe you, Tristan. I heard what Cara said tonight.”
“I know what you heard, Peyton. I don’t need or want that shit, and I don’t think you would either. It was just an outlet for all my aggressions. It didn’t help me and it sure as fuck didn’t feel good when I lost control and sliced that girl’s back up. I don’t want that anymore. Please. Believe me. I just want you. Just like this…”
Tristan guided Peyton onto her back, and helped her out of her T-shirt and panties. He slipped off his boxers and lay on top of her, pinning her into the bed
. He softly kissed her for a long time, happy when she started arching her body against him. He kneeled in between her parted thighs, and nibbled on each of her breasts, then licked a path down to her core. Tristan groaned as if in pain, when he brushed his fingers through her folds, and realized she was drenched already.
As if he needed to prove something to her, Tristan rolled on a condom and moved on top of her and slowly inched his way inside her swollen core. He carefully advanced a bit at a time, watching Peyton’s face for signs of pain. She was the most responsive creature he’d ever been with, and he knew that if she was in pain, it would show plain as day on her face.
Tristan had to fist the bed sheets in his hands to keep from losing his control and pounding her as hard as he could into the bed. She needed to know that he was able to be a gentle lover, and didn’t need the whole dominant role to get him off. He wanted her responses; wanted her to argue and fight back and push him. It was her fire that got him to this point in his life…where he actually wanted more for himself. And more for her.
Peyton arched her back and gripped him hard, drawing his cock in even deeper. His pubic bone was slowly rubbing over her and she was pressing her core against him even more, until her cries were reaching the point of a constant plea. Tristan leaned in to drink up her moans and held her tight while he picked up the strength of his thrusts. The moment that her body tensed around him, he knew that she was going to come. His own body responded with a surge of white hot pleasure that started at the base of his spine and ran all the way out through his limbs.
Once Peyton had gone limp in his arms, he slowed down enough to ease her back down from her orgasm and felt the last shudders leave her body. As they lay panting in each other’s arms, Peyton started to squirm underneath him, and he remembered that she was trying to go to the restroom earlier and he’d stopped her.
Hazel St. James - Fighting For You (Redemption#1)[ Page 12