by Kasey Krane
Isabelle opened the door with a smile.
“Where’s Elsie? I thought you were bringing her.”
“She’s taking a shower, and I’m not staying for long.”
Isabelle walked into the house and I followed her. She’d already made up a bag with some clothes she thought would fit Elsie. They were about the same size and height, so I figured it wasn’t going to be a big problem.
“I heard everyone’s warmed to her pretty quickly,” she said.
I stood back, watching her, with my hands shoved in my jacket.
“Yeah, I guess,” I answered.
She must’ve heard something in my voice because she looked over at me with her brows furrowed.
“I thought you were on her side.”
“I’m not on anybody’s side. Just trying to get to the bottom of this.”
“Bottom of what? What’s the problem, Tristian? She needs to be kept safe from Aldo Baron and that’s what you’re helping her with, right? Keeping her safe.” She zipped up the bag as she spoke and I grabbed it out of her hands.
“Maybe you’re a little too quick to trust,” I growled.
Isabelle hooked her hands on her hips and shook her head.
“And maybe you need to just relax a little. It happened a decade ago, Tristian.”
I looked up at her sharply and she shrugged. We both knew exactly what she was talking about. I just hadn’t expected her to bring it up.
“I have to go back,” I snapped, but she followed me quickly to the door.
“Tristian!” she barked at me, placing a hand on my shoulder.
“Not every chick in the world is out there to deceive you and lead you into a trap, do you hear me?”
I turned to face her, clenching my jaws to control the rage building up inside me. That was exactly how I felt every time Christie came up in a conversation.
Isabelle tightened her grip on my shoulder.
“You were a kid. You were manipulated and trapped. They knew what they were doing. Heck, it wasn’t even that girl’s fault. She was just following orders and who knows what she’d been threatened with.”
“Yeah, exactly the way Elsie could be manipulated and threatened by Aldo, and being forced to spy on us.”
“Tristian, please, you need to let go of the past. None of it was your fault. Or Brendan’s, or anybody’s from the family. You were all messed up over the death of your mother. None of you were thinking straight. You were all too young.”
I yanked away from Isabelle and walked out of the door.
“Thanks for the pep talk, sis, but I don’t need it.”
“So you’re just going to keep treating her like shit because you can’t get over what happened to you?” she called after me.
But I chose to ignore her and kept walking. Isabelle wasn’t there when it happened. She didn’t know what she was talking about.
Eleven
Elsie
By the time I stepped out of the shower with a big towel wrapped tight around me, Tristian had already returned with a bag of clothes. He’d left it on the bed of the spare room where I found it.
Isabelle had thought of everything I’d possibly need. There were even sets of brand new lingerie that had never been worn before.
I didn’t know how to thank her for her kindness. The Doherty family’s unexpected warmth continued to surprise me.
After I was changed, with my damp hair lying around my shoulders, I went back in the kitchen to find Tristian making popcorn in the microwave.
“Are you tired? Are you going to sleep?” he asked.
“No, I don’t think so. Are you?”
“I was going to watch a movie. You’re welcome to join me,” he said. Then he carried beers and popcorn to the living room couch and I followed him, unsure of where this was headed.
He didn’t consult me on the kind of movie I would’ve liked to have watched, but picked an old Western. It was the kind of film I never would’ve been interested in, but I was curious to watch it carefully—to figure out why he was interested in it.
We sat on the couch together with the bowl of popcorn between us. We had returned to our usual routine of being quiet around each other. But the silence somehow never became uncomfortable.
There was almost something calming and peaceful about it.
I tried to not stare at him directly, but kept glancing at him from the corner of my eye.
He had thick reddish brown hair but had it cropped short. His jawline was sharp and angular. His green eyes moved as he followed the scenes on the screen, engrossed in the movie. I pictured him as a cowboy and it brought a smile to my face.
Tristian would’ve looked good in flannel. He would’ve made a very sexy cowboy.
Over an hour passed and we’d watched the movie in complete silence, and the longer he said nothing to me, the more intensely I wanted him. My toes curled and I dug my nails into my palms to control the feeling of urgency. To feel his hands all over me. Why didn’t he want me?
Was I undesirable? Was I ugly?
Why would he want me? He could have any girl in this city. He probably had every girl in this city.
He’d rejected me once already and I knew he’d reject me again if I threw myself at him. And how could I throw myself at him? Didn’t I have dignity and pride?
I had to leave the room. I couldn’t sit that close to him, feeling his warmth and energy taking over me.
I jumped off the couch in an attempt to rush out of the room, but before I could even step away, he caught me by my wrist and pulled me down.
I gasped as I fell into his lap.
“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked, while I melted into his deep green eyes.
“I don’t know. I can’t…do this…be this close to you,” I confessed. I couldn’t keep pretending anymore.
Tristian’s hands trailed up my arms until he held my face, his thumbs brushing over my lips as they hung open with desire.
“Ditto,” he replied before he kissed me.
Tristian’s mouth took over my whole body. Traveling down my lips, down my neck, to my cleavage. My breasts heaved heavily and he grabbed them with both hands, massaging and teasing my firm nipples through the top I wore.
I was so wet for him already, and I saw and felt how hard he was for me too. It was all I needed to know—some confirmation he wanted me the same way I wanted him.
He pulled my clothes off and I did the same with his. We were desperate to see each other naked. I couldn’t wait to get my hands on his bare solid chest. His muscular torso. He was chiseled like a slab of marble.
My top came off, then my skirt, then my lingerie. Within seconds, he was naked too. He pulled me back down in his lap to kiss my neck and leave a wet trail down to my breasts.
I pushed into him, feeling the heat and urgency of his cock while he sucked my left nipple, then licked my right. I felt a sharp pang of desire between my legs, rolling my hips, curling my toes because I wanted to feel his cock inside me.
Tristian held on to me while I moved between his arms. I reached for his cock, stroking him gently, then stroked his balls. I felt him throbbing in my palm, growing and getting harder. I weaved my other fingers in his thick hair, breathing in the scent of him—his shampoo and cologne. I wanted to be surrounded by this smell forever, feel the rough brush of his stubble on my skin, his thick fingers pressing and fondling and feeling.
I couldn’t get enough of him. I’d keep wanting him. I took in jagged breaths of desire as I watched him take complete possession of me.
I knew I'd never given myself to a man like this before. I was always so careful, always so suspicious. I always put myself and my career first—just like Dad had taught me to.
And now—I was willing to give everything to this man who didn’t even trust me. What was wrong with me?
Tristian groaned as he slowly lifted me up. My legs were spread wide around him. His cock was up, hard and ready for me and he slid me down. I couldn’t wai
t to have his cock fill me up.
I took him in, inch by inch, until he was so deep inside me.
I wrapped my arms around his neck and Tristian bunched up my hair around his wrist. He had his jaws clenched, and he groaned as I moved.
I rolled my hips, lifting myself up his cock, then crashing down again. I was on his lap, bouncing and riding him like a racehorse. We moved fast together, faster and faster. His cock was so big and thick inside me, I felt my wetness spreading all over him.
I rode him hard, harder than I’d ever ridden a man before, with more energy and excitement than I’d ever thought possible. What happened to me? How and why did I give myself to him like that? With complete abandon.
At that point, while his cock filled me to the brim—I didn’t even care what he thought of me. What’d happen next. All I wanted to do was to experience an orgasm with him inside me.
And I wouldn’t have to wait long for it because Tristian brought his fingers down on my clit, rubbing and stroking me almost tenderly while I bounced on him, taking him in. Deeper and deeper.
When he touched my clit like that, I knew it was game over for me. He knew exactly what to do to make me lose whatever ounce of control I had.
I cried out his name, shuddering against him, tightening my grip on him as I came. I fell on him as I reached the pinnacle, kissing his shoulders and neck while he exploded inside me too.
It was the moment I’d waited for.
I’d waited to feel him give himself to me. The way I’d given myself to him already.
We came together. Rising and falling, exhaling and inhaling ruggedly, no holds barred.
When we were done, I sank into him, with his cock still deep inside me. He was still hard. My toes were still curled from the force of my orgasm. I’d never experienced anything like it before.
After a few moments of being wrapped up together, I dared to look up at him. A little bit afraid of what I might see in his eyes. Would he reject me again?
He brushed his fingers on my face, tracing the shape of my nose, then my lips, down my chin and neck. There were so many words bursting to fall through my lips. Words I knew could completely change the course of our relationship.
Somehow, I managed to hold them back. I said nothing. Tristian stared down at me like he expected me to say something, but when I didn’t, he pulled himself out of me.
Damn. I felt something right then. An indescribable need to pull him back in, suck him right into my pussy again. I wanted to claim him. I wanted him to claim me. Make me his.
I knew I was falling for him, and there wasn’t a damn thing I could do about it.
The damage was already done.
Twelve
Tristian
It wasn’t just about the sex.
That part was fun. That part was animalistic and instinctual. It was just fucking. We channeled it through our bodies.
Well, Elsie’s was flawless. I wanted to touch and explore every curve, every shape and angle, the dimples on her ass, the chocolatey shade of her nipples, the smooth olive complexion of her perfect skin.
But it wasn’t just about Elsie’s body that made me feel the way I felt. It was because I wanted to hold her. I wanted to be inside her even after I was done coming. I’d already emptied my load in her and for some reason, I wasn’t in a hurry to pull away.
Eventually, I was able to jerk out of the trance-like state I was in.
I helped her roll off me and I stood up and put on my clothes.
I was mad at myself for giving in. I was frustrated I hadn’t been able to keep it in my pants.
I mean—if I really wanted to fuck someone, I could’ve gone out and found a chick anywhere. I could’ve called anybody. It wasn’t like I’d have to spend any time trying to find some chick to bang.
But it wasn’t just some chick.
I wanted to specifically bang Elsie, and this wasn’t a problem I had to deal with many times in my life before.
The last time my interest was caught by a particular girl, it was Christie, and I never wanted a repeat of that experience again. I’d been so careful up until this point, and somehow I had managed to let that control slip for Elsie.
And I completely blamed her for it.
She was still naked, curled up on the couch, watching me as I dressed myself.
Isabelle’s words rang in my ears—she’d asked me if I’d kept treating Elsie badly because of my past. And the answer was, probably.
I wouldn’t have cared if I wasn’t attracted to her. If she didn’t seem so perfect. But now all I thought about was Christie and how she had fucked me over.
I hated anyone and anything that reminded me of Christie, and now I wanted to hate Elsie.
I wanted to hate her, but I didn’t know if I could. That frustrated me even more. What the fuck was going on?
“I’m going to sleep, you should get some rest too,” I said coldly, walking out of the room. Leaving the TV on, the bowl of half-eaten popcorn on the floor, cans of beer strewn all over the place. I didn’t give a shit.
I didn’t even look at her as I left. I just wanted to get out of there. Put some distance between us.
I didn’t want to be around Elsie while I thought about Christie and everything that’d gone wrong that night.
I should’ve known something was wrong when Christie kept looking over my shoulder as I walked towards her that night at Brambley Park.
She still wore the same clothes I’d seen her in the morning. Her hair was golden and shiny as it lay on both her shoulders.
I was too young and inexperienced and didn’t know what to say as I approached her.
“Are you cold?” I asked, forcing myself to make words with my mouth. She shook her head vigorously, holding her hand out to me.
I was on top of the moon.
I didn’t think we’d be moving this fast. She wanted me to touch her already? I couldn’t believe my luck.
So I grabbed her hand and we walked. I’d forgotten about my bike already, and I had no idea how she came to the park. That should’ve been my second clue if I’d paid attention. But back then, I hadn’t learned the lessons I knew already.
Question everything.
“What did you do today? After we hung out,” I said, trying my best to continue a conversation. She blushed again, like she had when we first met.
“I waited for it to be midnight so we could meet again,” she said.
I thought I’d died and gone to heaven. To me, in that moment—she was paradise. I didn’t know what true love was supposed to feel like, but I guessed that was it.
I wasn’t thinking rationally—like how I didn’t know her at all. I didn’t even know her last name. But it didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was how she made me feel, and she made me feel like a grown up.
“I waited to see you too,” I said. Our eyes met and I leaned towards her for a kiss. Even though she blushed, and it looked like she wanted to kiss me too, she held back.
I stared into her face and then she looked over my shoulder again.
“What’s going on? Don’t you want this?” I asked, a little annoyed. If she rejected me, it’d have bruised my ego.
Christie shook her head.
“I’m sorry, Tristian, I do want to kiss you but…”
She never got to finish that sentence because two pairs of hands were clamped down on my shoulders from behind.
I struggled in their grip, kicking and flailing, but I had no chance of escape against grown men.
Someone came over and tugged Christie away and she’d started crying now. But she wasn’t struggling to get away. She wasn’t in danger. She had just been the decoy. She’d lured me into a trap.
The men carried me to a van and threw me inside. Then there was darkness.
At the age of eleven, I was kidnapped and held as a prisoner by our family’s enemies for over a week, and it was all because I’d trusted a pretty girl.
I must’ve fallen asleep at some point be
cause I woke up in my bed in the morning with a start.
I’d dreamt about Christie and the kidnapping. The look of sorrow on that girl’s face as I was dragged away—I’d never forget. Neither would I forgive her for it. She may not have been a willing participant, she definitely wasn’t the mastermind of the plan. But she was still the reason why they were able to lure me away from the safety of my family and kidnap me.
I woke up and jumped out of bed, rushing to the shower because I wanted to wash off all traces of Elsie from my body.
Now that I’d spent the whole night mulling over the details about Christie, there was no way I’d forgive myself for fucking Elsie.
It didn’t matter what my family thought of her. I still wouldn’t trust her. That’d be a stupid thing to do.
After my shower, I changed and stepped out of the bedroom to find Elsie cooking breakfast in the kitchen. The smell of bacon and eggs filled the apartment. Coffee brewed in the machine, and it even looked like she’d cleaned up around the place.
I was shocked by how quickly she’d assimilated into the environment, how she’d treated my place like her own. She had managed to integrate herself right into my life, and I didn’t even notice.
I took personal offense to this.
Especially the fact she looked amazing in the tiny pair of shorts and long t-shirt she wore.
“Breakfast?” she asked in a cheerful mood. Maybe she hadn’t noticed how sour I was being, maybe she didn’t care.
“No, I don’t want any breakfast,” I snapped.
That caught her attention and she looked up at me with narrowed eyes.
“Is everything okay?” she asked and I was on the verge of telling her it wasn’t. That nothing was ever going to be okay in my life because I couldn’t trust a single person outside my family.
It made me miserable, but I couldn’t move beyond it.