by Penny Wylder
“I’m sorry I missed your birthday,” he whispers in-between plundering my lips.
I try to wrap my head around the words but my brain is short-circuiting. Tristan’s lips are like a drug that I’m addicted to and I can’t get enough of the way they feel. Fuck, I’m in so much trouble. But in this moment, I don’t care. We’re locked away from reality, and even the strongest person would have a hard time saying no to a dream dangled right in front of them.
“You’ve missed a few of them.”
“I’m hoping my present will make up for it,” he says.
“What is it?”
He smirks, and sinks to his knees in front of me. “Hopefully still a first.”
Oh god. He’s lifting up my skirt and I can’t even breathe. And there’s no way in hell that I’m going to stop him because the amount of times that I’ve imagined this moment is in the thousands and I want to feel his mouth on me.
“Hmm,” he makes a sound when he’s bunched the fabric around my hips. “Last time I was here I don’t remember there being any panties in the way.” He brushes his mouth against my thigh, and I gasp.
“If I’d known that this was going to be on the schedule then maybe there wouldn’t have been any.”
Tristan chuckles against my skin, and fuck, I don’t think there’s ever been a more erotic feeling. Granted, I’m not exactly experienced in real life erotic feelings since I’ve been limiting myself to my imagination and my vibrator, but that laugh makes me feel things in places that I didn’t even know existed.
Lips brush against the fabric, a barely-there ghost of a touch, but my reaction is anything but light. I moan, unable to keep myself quiet, and while I was wet before, suddenly soaking. My body knows better than I do what’s about to happen, and it’s begging for it.
Another touch, this time with his tongue over the fabric of my panties, wet on wet. I’m gripping the sink, my knuckles white from holding on so tightly. Tristan makes a sound of appreciation. “I can taste how wet you are for me.”
Only for you, I say in my mind. But there’s no way I can say that out loud. There’s nothing I can do but feel his mouth on me. He doesn’t move the fabric out of the way, instead he lazily runs his tongue along the thin lace, letting it add texture to the strokes of his tongue. And fuck this feels better than anything I’ve ever felt.
My fantasies have nothing on the real thing. “Holy shit,” the words slip from my mouth before I can stop them.
Fingers hook in the elastic of my panties and pull them down. I can’t believe that I’m letting him do this after I haven’t seen him in four years. I can’t believe it, but I am. Further and further down the panties fall until he’s guiding them over my ankles and high heels. And then his palms are on my thighs.
“Open for me,” he says, his voice leaving no room for argument. And I obey. I spread my legs wide, blood painting me with a fierce blush.
His first touch is slow and deliberate. One long, slow lick from the bottom of my pussy all the way to my clit. And my vision goes white. Holy fucking hell, this isn’t what I thought it would be. It’s so much better.
Pleasure swirls under my skin, sinking deep and echoing back on itself. I’m ready to come already and he’s barely started to touch me. Already my breath is shallow, and the heat of this is bringing sweat to my skin.
The fabric of my dress slips down over Tristan’s head so he’s hidden. Nothing to see, just feel. His lips seal over my clit and he sucks gently before stroking with his tongue. Under and over and side to side, experimenting.
Every move he makes brings out a different response from me, and I can tell he’s paying attention to them. My hips jerk toward his mouth when he sucks me deeper, and so he does it again. And again and again until I’m moaning, trying to keep myself quiet because the bathroom echoes.
I almost cry when he releases me from his mouth and lifts my dress so I can see his face again. Fuck, he’s hot. Hotter than I remember. It’s the same thought that entered my mind when I first saw him in the focus room, and I think it again now. Hell, I’ll probably think it every time I see him. He’s beautiful, and like that saying, only getting finer with age.
It’s never bothered me that we’re so far apart in age. Despite what people might think, I’ve never felt like it was that great a distance. But that doesn’t make it safe. Especially if my father finds out.
“How close are you?” he asks. The gravel in his voice is that much sexier, and a new burst of wetness forms between my legs.
“Close,” I gasp.
He grins with a knowing smile. “Don’t hold yourself back,” he says, running his palms up the inside of my thighs. “I’m going to taste you until I’ve had my fill, no matter how many times you come.”
I have to close my eyes, the words sticking clear through my chest. Oh fuck.
Tristan isn’t cautious now, his mouth consumes me entirely. He told me not to hold back, and so he’s not going to either. Every pull of his mouth sends me higher, and I’m so close that I’m going to lose it. A quick flurry of strokes on my clit clouds my mind with ecstasy, and I gasp, suddenly grabbing his hair with one of my hands.
It’s an instinct to pull him closer. I don’t want him to ever release me. One stroke after another on the underside of my clit, and white-hot fire explodes through me. I cover my mouth with my hand, muffling my cry as my orgasm fills my veins and makes me shake.
I’ve never had an orgasm like this before, all-consuming and feeling like it never wants to end. The pleasure from it is sharp. It cuts a line between before and after, and I know immediately that I’ll never be able to go back.
But just like he promised, Tristan isn’t finished with my pussy. He doesn’t stop, teasing his tongue around my clit and making me shake more before licking down to my entrance. “You taste so good,” he says, barely dipping his tongue inside me in the most intimate caress. “And you have no idea how badly I want to fuck you with my tongue. But the first thing that you’ll feel inside you is my cock. And after that…” the words hang in the air with sinful promise. That he’ll fuck me with his fingers. And his tongue. And anything else that he chooses. Because I’ll be his.
The possibility yaws open in front of me, and I can’t ignore how badly I want that to happen, and how complicated it would be to make it real. I remember clearly that I told Tristan I knew what I wanted, no matter my age. But he was right, too. Now that I’m a few years older, I realize that this isn’t simple. Even if I want it to be.
Tristan grazes his teeth across my clit, and my knees start to shake. If he keeps this up I’m going to fall on the floor and never be able to get back up. My breath is coming in heaving gasps, and I’m so sensitive, so stimulated, that I’m right on the edge again, hanging in that space before and after pleasure where all you have to feel is the rippling echoes of it.
He rolls my clit between his lips and uses his teeth again, the contrasting sensation against his tongue shocks me like lightning. I go over again, tumbling headlong into brightness, my gasps echoing off the bathroom walls. Tristan’s hands ride up my thighs to my hips, fingers digging into my ass and holding me still while he plunders me, carrying through the second round of breathless pleasure with ease.
No matter what the complications between us, this is one hell of a birthday present. Fuck, I think again. I’m fucked. And I can’t even deny that I want to be fucked. By him and only him. Little spasms run through my body, and I can’t control them. Can barely find a way to open my eyes. But when I do, Tristan is looking at me. His mouth is still locked against my skin, that delicious suction making it impossible to ignore. “Dash,” the nickname slips out without thinking.
His eyes lock on mine with renewed fire. It’s what I always used to call him, when I would insist we race, and even though everyone told him to, he never let me win. When I finally beat him it felt so good. And it was the day I realized how I really felt about him. And now he’s here. Doing this.
And I have to leave. He
just got back, and I’m not going to let him or me getting fired—or worse—ruin what we could have together. We can figure it out, but not like this. Not hiding, afraid that someone will discover us and everything will fall apart.
“I’ve always loved it when you called me that,” he says.
I look at him like he’s gone mad. “You always acted like it annoyed you.”
He smirks. “Of course I did.”
“You—” His mouth seals over me again, erasing my words, and I don’t think I can take another one of these orgasms. They’re too much. “I can’t,” I say. “I can’t.”
“You will,” he says. Tristan’s voice leaves no room for argument, those two syllables kindle new fire in my gut and spread heat under my skin. He’s right, I will. And I don’t ever want to stop.
4
Tristan
I’m a goddamn fool. I should have done this a long time ago, and I’ll always have to live with the fact that I wasted years trying to be strong and do what I thought was the right thing for everyone when it was probably the wrong thing for us.
Nicola tastes like the sweetest dessert that I can imagine, and now that I’ve had a chance to breath in her flavor, it’s all I want. If I had my way I would keep her in this bathroom all day, making her come until she could no longer speak. Hell, she might already be halfway there.
And the fact that this is still a first—that I’m the only man that’s ever tasted her—has me harder than I’ve ever been in my goddamn life. She’s quivering, about to burst. I know I can make her come again. I feel the way her breath comes quick and I see the way her hands are gripping the counter out of the corner of my eyes.
God, I want all of her. It’s taking everything in me not to lay her out on this floor and have my way with her now. I understand her hesitance, but I’m not going to back down. I came back to claim what she offered and I’m not going to let her think that I have any doubts. At all.
I run my tongue along the seam of her, savoring that delicate sweetness before sucking her deep again, listening to her breath catch. She’s so close, and I use my tongue, swirling and reaching over her swollen clit until I feel her shudder again. Until I feel her body release and her thighs lock around me.
It’s her hardest orgasm yet, and Nicola can’t quite hold back her cry. It echoes around us but I can’t bring myself to care. Let them hear. Let everyone know that I know how to pleasure her. Slowly, I help her come down from pleasure with gentle kisses and slow licks. I could do this all day. And I finally pull back from her, even though it’s the last thing I want to do in the world.
“Happy birthday,” I say, smirking up at her.
“That was quite the present.” Her breath still isn’t even, and her hair is falling into her face. I want to see that wild hair after we’ve made love, tangled and spread across the pillows. Draped across my chest.
A loud knock sounds on the door, and Nicola jumps and goes pale. “Just a minute,” she calls out, and steps away from me, fixing her dress. The woman wantonly enjoying my tongue is gone, and replaced with one who’s nervous. “You need to hide,” she says, pushing me towards one of the bathroom stalls. “Just until I make sure everything is clear.”
I catch her by the arm and pull her close to kiss her. Even beneath her nerves, she can’t quite hide the way she melts under my mouth. My Nicola is still there, even if she’s pretending that she’s not. I’m going to prove to her that this is worth it. That we’re worth it, even if I’m the one that wasted so much time. That’s my fault. I know that. But I can still make it right.
When I pull away, her eyes are wide, and I can’t quite interpret the emotion there. “Hide,” she says, before unlocking the door.
I step into the stall, smiling. I don’t think we need to be so cloak and dagger, but if it makes her feel better I’ll do it. Her panties are still in my hand, and I tuck them into my pocket. She didn’t ask for them back, and I like the idea of having them as a souvenir for the first time I tasted her. I’m only concealed for a moment before I hear her voice again. “It’s clear. Leave quickly so nobody sees you coming out of the women’s bathroom.”
There’s more that I want to do than leave this room. I want to talk about us and what just happened. But when I step out of the stall to leave, Nicola is already gone. The hallway is empty, and she’s disappeared without a trace. I don’t know this building well enough to go looking for her.
Maybe I pushed too hard, too fast. Maybe with Nicola, for the second time, I made a mistake.
I don’t see Nicola for the rest of the day, and between settling into my new office and signing paperwork with HR, I don’t have a chance to look for her. But I snag one of her business cards from an assistant. It has her cell number, and though I probably should just wait, I don’t want silence between us. If she’s angry I want to know. If I truly crossed a line, I want to know. My stomach does a flip as I enter her phone number, because I don’t want to think that I’ve already ruined this.
Nicola, it’s Dash. Please don’t run away. I want to talk about what happened today, and what happened four years ago. If I need to promise that I won’t kiss you for you to talk to me, I can do that. Just please, don’t shut me out.
I send it and take a deep breath. It’s all I can do for now. And there’s plenty for me to do at home to unpack. But hell if I’m going to get anything done while I’m watching my phone.
Nothing from Nicola. I sent her a text telling her good night, and another one saying good morning, but there’s been no response so far. I haven’t run into her at the office yet, and I’m not going to force the issue, even though Bruce made it seem like we’d be working pretty closely together. I’m sure that I’ll see her soon enough. Until then, I can be patient.
A knock at my office door makes me look up from where I’m staring at my phone, willing a text message to appear. It’s Bruce. “How are you settling in?”
“Fine,” I say. “Got everything squared away with HR, so I should be able to start piling through everything that was left on the desk.” The previous person in my position had a lot of irons in the fire, which is good for the company but it makes for a lot of catch-up work on my end. But I don’t care. I’m a fucking lucky man. Job in my field with a decent salary, working side-by-side with the woman I’m completely and utterly in love with? I’ll take some busy work to dig through any day.
“Excellent,” he says with a grin. “I’m sure you’ll have it worked out in no time. But what do you say we take a long lunch to catch up? Noon?”
I nod. “Sure thing.”
“See you then,” he says, smacking the doorframe on the way out. One of the things I’ve always appreciated about Bruce is his ability to make you feel welcome. We’ve been friends for so long, but even after my absence it doesn’t feel like we’ve missed a beat. And furthermore, I know him well enough that I know he’s not going to act like my boss outside of work. I don’t plan on doing anything that would make him want to pull rank on me at all.
Except for maybe fucking his daughter.
Shit.
Yeah, I understand why Nicola is suddenly so hesitant about all of this. Aside from the time and distance, she loves her job. That was abundantly clear in the focus group yesterday. She doesn’t want to do anything to jeopardize her position at the company. And because I know Nicola and how kind-hearted she is, I can guarantee that she’s also worried about me and my new position here. Maybe even my friendship with her father.
She’s worth the risk to me. I need to make sure that she knows that. But if I’m not worth it to her, I would understand that. Things change. I can only hope that I can show her that what she always dreamed about can be true. We can have a life together.
Glancing at my phone, the screen is still empty.
I distract myself with the work. Lots of introduction emails to contact points looking to market with us. Lots of enquiries that need to be followed up on now that the position is full again. I need to analyze potential
marketplaces across the country to see which ones have the best opportunities for expansion. There’s enough work here to keep me busy for weeks, and it’s a good way to get distracted.
It seems like it’s only been a few minutes when Bruce is hovering in my doorway again. “Ready to go?”
“Yeah, one second.” I finish up the last line of an email I’m sending before grabbing my coat and wallet. “Where are we going?”
“How do you feel about Callie’s?”
I can’t keep the grin off my face. Everyone in the world thinks that their local pizza place is the best pizza. But I’m pretty sure that Callie’s actually takes the cake. And I haven’t been there in a couple years, since my last whirlwind visit to Leighton City. “I feel great about that.”
Bruce smirks. “I thought you might.”
We hop in our cars, and meet at the restaurant. It’s snowing in that perfect movie way with big, fat flakes that probably won’t stick more than a few hours but look amazing while falling anyway. It was snowing just like this four years ago when I left, and I can’t help but wonder what Nicola and I might have done in the snow together had I been braver than I am now.
Walking through the door to Callie’s, I freeze. It’s not just the amazing scent of pizza, but it’s the fact that Nicola and her mother are already sitting at a table, chatting. “I didn’t realize that I was crashing a family lunch.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Bruce says, clapping me on the shoulder. “You are family, Tristan. Got to know that by now, right?”
“Right.” I wonder if he would say the same if he knew about Nicola and me. But that’s a problem for another day. Today’s problem is figuring out if there even will be a Nicola and me.
“Sorry we’re late,” Bruce says as we approach the table. “Had to pick up this slacker.”
Nicola and her mother look up and the words that she had been saying die on her lips. She looks shocked. I give her a warm smile, one that I hope is reassuring.