by Lili Valente
With a laugh-sob of unadulterated joy, I lean in, pressing my lips to his. He moans softly—a relieved, hopeful, happy sound that echoes everything I’m feeling—and threads his fingers into my hair. His lips part, and his tongue strokes against mine, imprinting the taste of this first real kiss indelibly in my memory.
He tastes like butterscotch and oaky Chardonnay with a slight tang of green apple mixed with the sexy, smoky taste of Tristan, and I know I’m never going to forget this moment, this magic, or the way every cell in my body is lighting up with longing and relief. I don’t have to hide anymore. I don’t have to pretend kissing him isn’t the best thing to happen to my mouth in years. I don’t have to hold back as I return his kiss, showing him with every brush of skin against skin how grateful I am for this chance to express what he means to me with my touch.
Finally, after a kiss that’s probably way too steamy for the town square, we pull apart, breath coming fast. Almost instantly, the square bursts into applause.
And though I know the cheering is for the band’s gorgeous take on “The Street Where You Live” from My Fair Lady, I can’t help but feel like it’s meant for us. For this. For the dream coming true under the Sampson the Snail statue.
“So, I assume that’s a yes to being my steady date?” Tristan grins as he brushes my hair from my face.
I laugh, lifting my eyes to the pale blue twilight sky. “Yes. Though, I have to say it took you long enough. I’ve had a thing for you for a while, you know.”
“Really?” he asks, seemingly genuinely surprised.
“Yes!” I bite my lip, but I don’t want to keep the truth contained. I don’t want to hide the way I feel about Tristan ever again. “I’m crazy about you, silly.”
“And I’ve clearly just been crazy.” He shakes his head. “I can’t believe it took me this long to realize how good this could be. How incredible. Almost as incredible as the way you taste…”
He leans in, but I stop him with two fingers pressed to his mouth. “I can’t,” I whisper. “No more making out in public tonight.”
“Not a fan of public displays of affection?”
“No, I’m just not sure how much longer I’ll be able to control myself.” I let my fingertip play back and forth across his warm, soft bottom lip. “Kissing you really makes me want to do more than kiss you, Tristan. Like…a lot.”
His eyes darken. “I want to do more than kiss you, too. I haven’t been able to stop thinking about how much more since the first time we kissed, in fact. But I don’t want to rush you, Zoey. We can—”
“Rush me,” I whisper, pulse galloping faster as his fingers curl around the back of my neck and desire flashes across his face. “Please, rush me.”
“You’re sure?” he asks, holding my gaze with an intensity that makes me shiver.
I nod. “Yes. I’m sure. I want you to take me home, Tristan. Right now.”
“Grab Luke’s leash and get him hooked up,” he says, his voice husky. “I’ll get everything else packed, and we’ll be out of here in five minutes.”
Sizzling with anticipation, with urgency, with the euphoria of knowing that I’m about to feel what it’s like to be in Tristan’s arms, in his bed, with nothing separating his incredible body from mine, I hook Luke’s leash to his collar with trembling hands and grab his empty supper dish from the grass. Within moments, Tristan has the picnic basket repacked, the wine corked, the quilt folded and his arm around my waist.
“Let’s get home, beautiful.” He kisses my cheek again, but this time there’s nothing sweet about it. Even in that gentle brush of his lips against my skin, I can feel the erotic possibilities simmering in the air between us, making my body ache and my voice breathy as I say, “I can’t wait.”
Hand-in-hand, we start down the path leading out of the square, walking fast enough that Luke has to trot to keep up. We reach the crosswalk just as the yellow light flashes, and break into a jog, stepping onto the curb on the other side just in time to run smack dab into a couple spilling out the front door of the Mexican restaurant on the corner.
“Sorry about that,” Tristan says, pulling up short. I tug Luke’s leash, drawing him closer to avoid getting the leash tangled in a familiar pair of legs.
I look up, the electricity humming across my skin fading as I lock eyes with Bear. “Oh, h-hey,” I stammer. “How are you?”
“Good,” he says, gaze shifting uncomfortably to his right. “Kim and I were just grabbing some food before heading over to the concert.”
I glance over to see Kim staring up at Tristan, looking anything but pleased as he offers a polite, “Hi, Kim. Nice to see you.”
“Nice to see you, too,” Kim says in a tone that makes it clear it’s anything but nice. “You two aren’t leaving so soon, are you? Things are just getting started.”
“We’ve got some business to take care of at home.” Tristan takes my hand, holding tight as he steps to the left, shifting around our exes. “But you guys enjoy it. They’re a great group.”
“Can’t be that great if you’re leaving already!” Kim lets out a high-pitched laugh, before adding in a borderline pleading voice, “Come on, Tristan, you two should stay. We can all share a bottle of wine and get caught up on the town gossip.”
“Maybe some other time,” Tristan tosses over his shoulder. “Have a good one.”
I glance over my shoulder, lifting a hand to Bear, while deliberately avoiding eye contact with Kim. If looks could kill, hers would have already flayed my skin from my bones and tossed me head-first into a vat of acid. There was a time in my life when a look like that from Kimberly Kahn would have scared the hell out of me and sent me home shaking in my boots to spend the night wondering what fresh hell she had planned for my life.
But now, the moment I turn back to Tristan, old pain and ex-related-trauma fade away, banished in the heat and affection in his gaze. “You’re sure you don’t care about making them jealous anymore?”
“Nope,” he says without a beat of hesitation. “Not even a little bit. What about you?”
Heart soaring, I squeeze his hand tighter. “Nope. All I care about is you, Mr. Hunter.”
“Ditto, Ms. Childers.” He lifts our joined palms and presses a kiss to the back of my hand. And even that simple gesture, that innocent touch, is enough to make my soul dance and my body ache.
It’s definitely a night for magic, all right, and Tristan and I are on our way home to prove it.
Chapter 12
Tristan
By the time I kennel Luke, restart the U.S. Open from the very beginning to keep him company, and hurry back up the stairs—my heart pounding hard with anticipation and an unexpectedly vicious case of the jitters—Zoey is nowhere to be seen.
I move down the hall, but there’s no sign of her in the bathroom or the guest room. I start toward the back of the house—assuming she must have decided to settle in the sunroom—but a sweet voice stops me, calling my name as I pass the open door to my bedroom.
I turn to see Zoey standing in the moonlight filtering through the curtains, her hair loose around her shoulders and her feet bare. And God help me, even the sight of that innocently exposed skin is enough to make me hard—instantly, painfully, desperately hard.
But that’s been my default state for most of the evening. I can’t remember ever wanting anything as much as I want to make love to Zoey right now. I also can’t remember being this fucking nervous about getting into bed with a woman. I want so badly to make it good for her, to show her with every kiss, every touch, how much she means to me.
“I want to tell you something,” she says, fingers twisting together, making me think I’m not the only one who’s anxious about taking our friendship to the next level. “It’s kind of embarrassing, but… Well, I want you to know.”
I step inside, closing the door behind me. “Don’t be embarrassed. You can tell me anything, Zoey. I’m not here to judge.”
Her lips quirk at the edges. “I know you aren’t, but�
�� Well, I judge myself a little. I told myself I was focusing on work because that’s what was most important to me, but that isn’t really true.” Her gaze drops to the floor, making her thick lashes two feathery smudges against her pale cheeks. “The truth was that I shut myself off, refusing to give anyone a chance at my heart because I…” Her breath rushes out and her fingers twist faster. “Because if I couldn’t have what I really wanted, then I didn’t want anything at all.”
I reach up, brushing her hair gently from her face. “And what did you really want?”
She lifts her chin, her gaze crashing into mine with enough force to take my breath away. “I wanted you,” she whispers, her words making me even harder, more painfully ready to show her how much I want her, too.
“Since that first week,” she continues, words coming fast. “Even though you had a girlfriend and you obviously only thought of me as a friend, I couldn’t help myself. And I couldn’t force myself to be with anyone else. For three years, Tristan, you’re the only man I’ve wanted to be with like this, and now it’s finally happening, and I’m afraid I’m going to do something mortifying like… I don’t know, like…” Her tongue slips out across her lips. “Like cry with happiness or something because I’m so—”
I cut her off with a kiss, pulling her into my arms and fusing my lips to hers, moaning as she opens for me and the sweet taste of her floods across my tongue. After a beat, her arms go around my neck, clinging tight as I back us both toward the bed.
“You can cry if you need to,” I murmur against her lips as my hands roam over her curves above her clothes, pausing to squeeze her waist, her hip, and the perfect swell of her ass, forcing myself to take it slow. “I don’t want you to hide anything from me, beautiful. I want you to show me everything I make you feel.”
She trembles against me, shivering as I guide her back onto the bed and stretch out on top of her. “So, you don’t think I’m a crazy stalker person for crushing on you for so long?”
“Does this feel like someone who thinks you’re a crazy stalker person?” I rock against her thigh, letting her feel what she does to me. She gasps into my mouth and lifts into my cock, rubbing against me through my jeans, sending a lightning bolt of hunger rocketing through me in the process.
Fuck…
If it’s this hot with all of our clothes still on, God only knows what it’s going to feel like to be inside her.
Which means it’s time for a confession of my own.
“It’s been a long time for me, too.” I pull back to gaze down into her face, my heart twisting at the need tightening her features. All I want to do is make this worth the wait for her, but I honestly don’t know how well I’ll perform the first time around. “I haven’t been with anyone since the engagement ended, and I want you so fucking much, Zoey, that I’m afraid I won’t last as long as I would like. But I promise I’ll make it up to you if you’ll give me a second shot at being the kind of lover you deserve.”
Zoey threads her fingers into my hair, her eyes shining with emotion. “Don’t be crazy. You’re already everything I want in a lover, Tristan Hunter. Everything I want in a man. And I don’t care if it lasts ten seconds or ten minutes, this is going to be so special to me. I can’t wait to be with you.”
Throat tight, I nod. “Me, too, Freckles.”
Her lips part and heat creeps back into her expression. “Good. Then we’re on the same page.” She reaches for the top button of my shirt, slipping it slowly through the hole before moving to the next, eyes locked with mine. Holding her gaze, I find the zipper on the side of her dress and draw it down, pulse thundering in my ears as I pull the now loose fabric lower, confirming my suspicion that she isn’t wearing a bra.
“Beautiful,” I whisper, heart skipping a beat as I get my first glimpse of her breasts. Each stunning orb is far more than a handful, heavy and warm in my palms as I guide them closer together, making it easier to admire both her pale pink nipples at the same time. I bend my head, flicking my tongue across one already-tight tip and then the other before stopping to draw her left nipple deeper into my mouth, sucking and swirling until she trembles against me again.
“Oh God,” she whispers, fingernails digging into my shoulders through my now-open shirt. “It’s so much… So intense…”
I pull away from her addictive sweetness, already so deeply in love with her nipples I know no other pair will ever have my heart in quite the same way. “Too much?”
She shakes her head. “No, it’s perfect. So good. Please, don’t stop.” She pushes at my shirt, guiding it off my shoulders. “Don’t ever, ever stop.”
I strip my sleeves down my arms and toss my shirt aside before reaching down to help her pull her dress over her head. I drop it to the floor and turn back to Zoey, breath catching at the sight of her lying there in nothing but a pair of lacy white panties. She is stunning—all softness and curves and luminous skin that glows like marble in the moonlight, so perfect it would be hard to believe she was flesh and blood if I couldn’t feel her heat, smell the addictive scent of her arousal, feel her fingers warm against my skin as she unbuttons my jeans and draws the zipper down.
I bite my lip as my cock strains forward, testing the strength of my boxer briefs, but I don’t move to help her. I keep my arms at my sides, watching as she drags my jeans and boxers down, baring the thick, pulsing length of my erection.
“You’re so beautiful,” she whispers, leaning in to press her lips to the end of me, kissing away the fluid beading on my tip and making the entire room spin.
She kisses me again, sweeping her tongue around the pulsing head of my cock, but before she can take things any further, I fist my hand lightly in her hair, drawing her away.
“Not this time.” Quickly disposing of the rest of my clothes, I shift positions, capturing her mouth with mine as I lie down beside her and tease my fingers beneath the waist of her panties. “I don’t want to lose control. Not until I’m inside you.”
She sucks in a breath, legs parting in a silent invitation as I glide my hand lower, beneath her panties, finding where she’s so hot it makes my heart slam even faster against my ribs. “God, Zoey…you’re so wet, baby.”
“I want you so much,” she says, cupping my cheeks in her hands as she kisses me harder, deeper. “Now. I don’t want to wait any longer, Tristan. I want to be with you, to make love to you so badly.”
“Me, too, more than anything,” I promise as I circle her clit with my fingers, nearly losing my mind when she whimpers and bucks into my touch. She’s so responsive, so sexy, that I can’t stop myself from ripping her panties down her thighs and rolling back on top of her. She wraps her legs around me, bringing her molten center to press tight against my shaft, forcing me to use every last bit of willpower I have left to insist, “Wait. Condom. Let me get one from the drawer.”
“I’ve got an IUD.” Her hands skim down my back to grip my ass. “And I’m clean.”
“Me, too,” I say, ignoring the distant voice in my head insisting condoms are always a must. My father ingrained in my head at an early age the importance of taking extreme precautions to prevent unwanted pregnancy. The Hunter men of past generations are famous for two things—legendary sperm counts and knocking up far more than their share of the women of Sonoma County—but right now I can’t bring myself to pull away from Zoey for even a second.
And as I guide my cock to her entrance and glide slowly inside—holding her gaze as I push deep, filling her, stretching her, sinking in until I’m buried to the hilt—the thought of making a baby isn’t a terrifying thought. Logically, I know we’re not anywhere near ready for that kind of commitment, but on a bone-deep, soul-deep level, the thought of loving my baby into this beautiful, sexy, sweet woman feels absolutely fucking right.
So right and so hot that by the time I reach the end of her, my balls are throbbing, and bliss is pushing so hard at my self-control I know there’s no time to waste.
I capture her lips for another long kiss
as I bring my thumb to her clit, rubbing in slow, steady circles as I pull out and thrust back in.
“Oh, God, Tristan,” she whispers, voice shaking as her nails dig into the bare skin on my shoulders. “It’s even better than I imagined. It’s so good. You feel so good. So perfect.”
“You, too,” I echo, throat tight with emotion and the heady sensations coursing beneath my skin. I expected this to be intense—it’s been so long since I’ve been with someone, and I want Zoey like nothing else—but this is a whole new world, a wild and untamed, undiscovered country.
I’ve never felt anything like this overwhelming need to claim her pleasure, to make her mine, to make her come so hard she’ll never want anyone buried between her thighs but me.
Mine. God, I want her to be mine. So fucking much. It’s all I can do to keep from opening my mouth and letting all the things she makes me feel spill out. But I don’t want to tell her I’m falling in love with her for the first time in the heat of the moment. I want to tell her when she’ll know I mean every word, from my head and my heart, as well as from my cock.
God, my cock…
I’m about to go. To explode. To lose myself inside her so hard I don’t know if I’ll survive it, but I need her pleasure first. I increase my pressure on her clit, making her gasp and cling to me even tighter as I ride her harder, faster, holding on to my self-control by a thread.
And then, just as I’m so close to losing it I can barely breathe, she comes for me. She comes bucking and grinding into me, calling out my name as her pussy locks down around my cock. The last thread snaps.
With a cry of surrender that vibrates through my chest, I come harder than I’ve ever come before, my cock jerking inside her and my balls drawing tight again and again as I empty everything into her heat, her fire. My orgasm rips through me from head to toe, rearranging the universe in its wake. By the time I sag on top of Zoey—both of us breathing hard and clinging to each other as our racing hearts begin to slow—I am a changed man.