Tripp

by Irish Winters

  As if he’d read her mind, Tripp reached one arm around her shoulders, the other under her knees, and carried her into her room. With every step closer to the bed, her heart danced a perky salsa up her throat. Ashley tipped back in his arms and smiled, just before he tossed her onto the bed.

  “Nice place.” he growled as he settled a knee between her legs. “Are you sure this is what you want to do? I mean, I’m still me, and—”

  “Yes, you,” she told him earnestly, her arms hooked around his neck again.

  He’d settled over her, his elbows alongside her head and his legs between hers. “Ashley,” he breathed, his eyes searching her face, her neck, and the low V of her collar.

  “Tripp,” Ashley whispered, licking her bottom lip, her body weeping at the weight and heat of the magnificent male holding her down. But not hurting her. To move past that horribly frightening day in her past, she reached behind her back and tugged her top over her head and off.

  His eyes widened, then fell to her lacy, violet bra. Her closet might be full of more manly clothes than feminine attire, but she knew how to make herself look attractive.

  It must’ve worked. Tripp’s tongue just made a quick swipe over his bottom lip. “You’re beautiful,” he said with awe.

  “Hands,” she ordered, not turning back now. “P-p-please put your hands on my… my…”

  “Breasts?” he asked, his voice low and incredibly husky, and his gaze still hot on her bra.

  “Yes. Them.” The darned tremor in her voice had to go, but if she didn’t do this now, she’d never get past that other day.

  Then, because he hesitated, she grabbed hold of the big hands he’d placed alongside her head and moved them to where she needed them. The second his palms flattened on her bra, a wave of fear crashed over Ashley. She closed her eyes, scared, but wanting this so darned bad, she could’ve cried. Enough was enough! She was tired of pushing everyone away, especially Tripp. Ashley wanted this, darn it. She wanted him.

  “You’re trembling,” he told her.

  “Yes, well…” Opening her eyes, she looked up at the man she’d once accused of despicable things. “I’ve never done this before.”

  His head cocked. “Ah, yes. You’re a virgin,” he breathed.

  “I know that makes me a unicorn. A freak. I just wasn’t ever one of the in-crowd. I’ve never belonged or wanted to be popular or—”

  “You’re not a freak, Ashley Cox,” he interrupted, his voice a low, sexy growl. “If you ask me, you’re one of the rarest women in the world. I just never…” His top teeth scraped over his bottom lip again. “But me? Are you sure I’m the guy you want to do this with?”

  “Yes. You, Tripp. Now.” That almost made her sound bossy. Man, she wished she were.

  Carefully, as if he were handling something breakable, he cupped her bra. His fingers settled gently over the girls she’d kept hidden, bound tightly, and restrained for years.

  “I won’t hurt you,” he breathed, the spark back in his sexy green eyes.

  “I know, b-b-but you need to know that this is as f-f-far as he got. By then he’d cut my neck, and I was bleeding, but he never… he never…” Fudge! It was happening again. Paralyzing panic stole her breath and—

  Tripp dropped his mouth over hers and breathed for her. All tongue and heat and desire, with one lick he swept the stranglehold of too many lost days and dreams away. The frightening moment in her past lost its grip, as Ashley lost herself in the giving and taking. For the first time in two years, she was a woman again, and Tripp was the man she wanted to give herself to. Right here. Right now.

  Instinctively, her hips arched into him. The smart, sassy woman she wished she’d been throughout all of this wasted time took over. That black polo had to go. Hungry now, she dragged the hem of it out of his jeans. Lifting to his knees, he stiffened his arms to help her pull it over his head. It flew like batwings to who-cared-where.

  This man’s chest was so much more than she’d expected. Wide and solid, coiled muscles rippled when he moved. Sparse chest hairs declared he was all male, but those shoulders… Those arms…. She licked her lips at the meal hovering over her.

  Tripp’s bottom lip caught in his teeth. His eyes sparkled with passion. She’d seen that exact look somewhere else, but where? Too bad she was too busy to focus on that trivia question now. Tripp had just climbed out of bed and peeled out of his boots, jeans, and—

  Oooo, black boxers, sexy long legs, and those muscular thighs…

  She was in heaven. Anxious to get her hands all over him, Ashley hurried and toed her running shoes off, then kicked them to the floor. She did the same with her socks and then, wiggled out of her jeans. But the moment she lifted her butt and hooked her thumbs inside the elastic band of her violet bikini panties, Tripp put one big hand on her belly and growled, “Uh-uh. No, you don’t. Those are mine. All mine.”

  Every feminine muscle in Ashley’s body clenched at that erotic declaration of male ownership. A delicious shiver rolled up her spine and danced across her shoulders, making her wiggle even more. “Okaaaaay,” she demurred, her heart kicking into a cartwheeling handstand, three backward somersaults, and ending with a perfect, ass-waving, two-point landing.

  Hormones roared through her like an electrical current. They were a matched set. He was still in his underwear, too. She was down to her panties and bra. His eyes skimmed over her nakedness. The lust stamped on his face was priceless. Man, Tripp was so beautiful, she wanted to cry.

  He settled between her legs, his long legs hanging off the mattress this time. He lowered his head and fervently kissed her belly button, his tongue slick and warm and swirling into that divot, his breath a gentle tease on her sensitive skin. His morning scruff tickled and scraped while he tasted her tummy. She’d turned into a quivering, needy bowl of Jell-O. She wasn’t exactly sure what to do with his big male body to make him happy too, but was sure going to give it—him—her best shot.

  Ashley laced her fingers over his head and into his hair, loving the lush, cool feel and thickness of it. Her body had a mind of its own. Her hips bucked into his chin, as if offering him everything. But when he dipped lower, when he smoothed his hands under her ass, lifted her hips, and nuzzled her panties—there—she froze. There? R-r-really?

  Lifting his chin, Tripp looked up and across her stomach at her the second she stopped breathing. “One of these days,” he purred, his fingers slipping under the elastic waistband of those silken panties. “We’re going to get creative, you and me. But not today, Ashley. Today is all about you. Only you. When you’re ready. But until then…”

  His big, warm hands slipped inside her panties and cupped her bare ass, peeling the panties off and down her legs. Instead of throwing them like she had his shirt, he stretched one arm and set them on her nightstand. Then, lifting to his knees, he climbed up her body and settled between her legs again. That beautiful erection settled hot and thick against her bare skin, her throbbing core. Almost right where she wanted it.

  Ashley’s heart was pounding so hard by then, she was sure he heard it. It was happening. What if she did this wrong?

  Planting his thick arms alongside her, Tripp skillfully maneuvered one hand behind Ashley’s back and unlatched the eyehooks that held her bra in place. “Tell me if you want me to stop. Just say no. One word. That’s all. I’ll stop. I promise.”

  “I’ll never tell you no,” she whispered, her eyes locked to his. Ashley knew her breasts were larger than most women’s. She’d often thought they were the reason she’d attracted the attention of that man two years ago and the drug addict Friday night. But until this morning, Tripp had only seen her in frumpy man shirts. Which was why she’d worn lavender today. She wanted him to see her as a woman. But what if he didn’t like them? Or her?

  Ashley lifted to her elbows. This time, she didn’t close her eyes, but watched while Tripp carefully slid the loosened bra straps over her arms, then tossed it over his head wit
h a wicked grin.

  She smiled carefully up at him.

  His eyes darkened with lust. His breathing hitched as he took in an eyeful. Her breathing did, too. But when he dipped his head and put his mouth over her breast... When he suckled her entire nipple into the slick, slippery heat of his tongue and mouth…

  Her head fell back, and Ashley stopped worrying. She was definitely doing things right. The sweetest flame licked up the inside of her legs as he sucked and nibbled. She widened her knees, needing more friction. Needing Tripp. Instead, she got a roaring inferno that started deep inside her core. Felt like he’d lit a bottle rocket.

  The bubbling flame exploded into bright white shards of lightning that flashed, so hot and so bright, she shattered. Incredible pleasure rippled through her. Over her. She couldn’t breathe or think. Could only enjoy the scintillating sensations rolling through her blood. Her veins had turned into conductors of the most intimate electricity, that her fingertips buzzed. Her nipples were hard as rocks, but as sensitive as butterfly wings.

  Too soon, the fireworks faded into stars, and she was falling with them. But what a rush! Ashley drew in a panting breath, effervescence still popping under her skin, her core drenched with a need for more Tripp. He’d done that to her. And she liked it.

  “Fudge,” she huffed, her chest rising and her bare breasts still happy in his very capable hands.

  He grinned down at her, the handsomest smile splitting his tired face. “The first time should always be the best.”

  If she’d died and gone to heaven, right then and there, Ashley couldn’t have been happier than she was inside Tripp’s arms. “Is it always like this?”

  “It can be,” he replied. His cheeks ballooned, as he blew over her wet nipple. She shivered, and of course, the needy little beggar perked right up, turned hard and sensitive. He ran the tip of his tongue over it, then turned his attention to her other breast, lighting some kind of connection between it and her core.

  Ashley held onto his broad shoulders while tremors of delight raced over her. It was happening again. She was coming undone at just the touch of his tongue. “Tripp, I’m… Wow, I’m… I think I’m... doing it again.”

  “Then fly,” he commanded gruffly. Adding fuel to her fire, he slid one hand down her body and slipped one finger inside of her. “Fuck! You’re so tight. I know you can do it.”

  She could. She did! Ashley flew so sweet and so high, the heart-stopping intensity of this second orgasm rocked her world and stole every last breath. Tears brimmed, even as she blinked them away.

  “You’re so ready for me,” Tripp murmured, his voice guttural and deep. He lifted his head. He was watching her now, his eyes dark forest green, his pupils blown. “But if we go all the way, it’s going to hurt. This is your first time, and I’m afraid—”

  “Don’t be afraid,” she whispered. “Please, Tripp, don’t be afraid. I’m not, and I don’t want to hide anymore. Not from you.”

  The hunger in his eyes softened, but this man was thinking too much. Ashley cupped his angular jaw in her hands, loving the soft brush of scruff under her fingertips. The tenderness glimmering in his eyes was so much more than she’d experienced or had ever believed a man capable of. Until this moment, they’d all been users and losers. Braggarts and bullies. Or indifferent professionals, like her boss.

  Could this tremendously high, weightless feeling be love? Probably not. She’d given up that pipe dream long ago, after watching her mom work her heart out for nothing but to get up the next day and do it all over again. Nothing good had come out of her mother’s sad relationship, except for Ashley. Whatever she did with the rest of her life, she refused to live one more day being afraid. No. More!

  “Are you sure?” Tripp was biting his bottom lip again, scraping his top teeth over it. Worrying it. Adorable, simply adorable.

  “Yes,” she told him. Feeling brave, she slid one hand between their bodies and past the waistband of his boxers. “I’m darned sure, Tripp. Let’s do this.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Damn, he was tired, and if he’d been smart, he would’ve been asleep by now. But Tripp couldn’t help grinning at Ashley’s courageous declaration to ‘do this.’ What man could resist an invitation like that? Not him. But when her fingers circled his cock without hesitation... When she tightened her grip… He purred like a damned tame housecat. She’d known what she was doing. She’d planned to seduce him, maybe not this morning, but today. Unfortunately...

  “I’ve got no condoms with me,” he had to tell her. “Don’t suppose you have any handy.”

  “I… I…” Her head bobbed, and there was that sultry smile again. “As a matter of fact, yes, I do. I’m the outreach coordinator for the Health Department, remember? I’ve got free samples.” She made that sound like she’d just solved world peace.

  He fell, right then and there, into the prettiest, most sincere, sapphire blue pools he’d ever come across. There was no way to catch himself or stop the freefall. For the first time in his life, Tripp was in over his head. “You do, huh?”

  “Yes, I do. At least, I’ll give some away if I ever notify someone face-to-face again. They’re in the other room. I have a whole box!” She sounded so damned pleased with herself.

  He grinned at the sassy woman in his arms. Everything about her was different now. From her feminine clothes and shoes, to the sexy as fuck underwear he’d peeled off her. She’d even left her hair loose and was wearing a titch of lipstick and blush. Which she hadn’t needed. Her lips were plenty swollen and wet, the loveliest shade of just-been-kissed pink, and after two orgasms, there wasn’t one part of her body not blushing.

  “You want me to get them?” she asked.

  “Yeah, sure. I mean…” Her body was thrumming with need that, suddenly, Tripp’s wasn’t exactly feeling. He dropped his face between her breasts and breathed. Just breathed. God, it had been a long, hard day and night. The scents he loved best, cherries and Ashley, filled the cracks in his heart. The cracks he’d known were there, but hadn’t truly allowed himself to acknowledge until then. “No. Let’s… Why don’t we just lay here for a minute longer? I don’t want to rush this,” he murmured into her sweet, soft skin. “I need a few minutes of just this. Just you.”

  “Okay, sure.” Ashley settled back into the pillow and ran her fingers over his head. His damned hard head.

  Something strange and wonderful was happening here in her bed. Something he didn’t know how to deal with. Everything had changed. Him. Ashley. The world. The feelings he’d stuffed down into his soul, the ones he’d honestly thought he’d never have to deal with again, were back. Making him wonder if the wiser men and women of the world weren’t right. If there wasn’t more to life than just the revolving door of slams, bams, and thank-you-ma’ams of fast, hard fucking. Especially with the tender woman in his arms.

  Yeah, he’d been a horny beast as a kid. What teenage boy wasn’t? He’d used girls and tossed them aside. Why not? Every football star, especially good-looking, buff linebackers, had plenty of sex thrown in their faces. From their first Friday night win to the day they graduated, were injured, or left the sport, high school football stars were stalked, bribed, and titillated by offers of free sex. And yeah, he’d indulged. Why not? They’d offered, and he’d snarfed down every last sweet thing that came his way, a couple of their mothers, too. He hadn’t been old enough, nor wise enough to understand anything about self-control, the unique sanctity of virginity, or how precious the gift of a good woman was back then.

  He’d been a damned cocky jock, a walking, talking stack of vibrating testosterone, puffed up with too many ‘atta-boys’ and swamped with undeserved hero-worship. He’d been a stupid kid. Just seventeen. Not even a real man. Certainly, no hero.

  Tripp knew the difference now. Heroes were the unseen men and women who’d fought and died fighting for their countries. It honestly didn’t matter which country, either. The second any person put their wants
and needs aside, the moment they picked up their country’s banner and fought for something bigger than themselves, they were the real Friday night winners. Every overpaid sports celebrity, even Hollywood’s finest, were so much less. Had they given their blood? Had they lost their lives? No. They were only concerned with ratings and the illusion of being more important than they truly were.

  Heroes were the invisible people, like Ashley. Men and women who would never lead others into battle or into dark alleys. They were just regular people fighting their own private hells, who got up every day and convinced themselves to keep going and keep trying. To keep pasting on smiles they might not feel, even as they marched off to jobs they might be over-qualified for, or searched for wayward daughters who’d curse them when they found them. Who’d curse them for loving them. Like Mom.

  As much as Tripp wanted to show Ashley a really good time this morning, the stress of the last couple days was a hard mountain to climb. He nuzzled his nose deep between her luscious breasts. A couple tears eked out of his tired eyes. What a loser.

  Until her slender fingers threaded into his hair and settled around his head, her fingertips against his scalp. “Hey,” she breathed softly. “What’s wrong, honey?”

  Honey. She called me honey. That cost Tripp another tear, and he honestly didn’t understand why he was this emotional. He was no pussy, damn it. He was a man, and he… and he...

  Fuck, I’ve got feelings. That had to stop.

  “Not a damned thing,” he lied, turning his face to the side, wishing he were a better man even as he used her breasts for pillows. That he deserved this woman. “I’m just happy, Ashley.” Truly happy. Finally.

  “Sure. Stay right where you are,” she replied, her voice soft and loving, her arms wrapped around his head now.

  He knew it, that thing he was feeling. He was utterly, hopelessly, for the first time in his life, in love. Not just in lust. He’d found what he’d been searching for all these years. Tripp just didn’t know what to do with it. Scare her off by professing true love? Take her now while she was wet and willing, but still so innocent and way too giving? Before she understood what he’d only just figured out? That she was worth a hundred greedy, grasping men like him. Or should he let her go and live that perfect white-picket fence dream?