Rock Bottom (Tristan & Danika #2) (4 page)

I turned to follow his stare, my body tensed up; my head messed up by what he’d said.
 
I couldn’t shake my suspicion that Tristan still had feelings for that bitch, and what he’d said just validated it.

Sure enough, Tristan was talking to Natalie, noticeably angry.
 

“I’m sure he’s telling her off for fucking me.
 
But it doesn’t mean he still wants her.
 
It’s totally normal to get pissed off about something that happened years ago with your ex-girlfriend, right?”
 

I hated that he spoke in my language, sarcasm, when everything he said pissed me off.
 

“Just go away, you little shit,” Frankie told him.
 

I was still staring outside at Tristan and Nat, watching how his face transformed as his scowl disappeared and a loud laugh escaped him that made my fists clench.
 
She’d just said something that he thought was funny, and I
hated
it.
 

“Just remember.
 
I’m always here if you want to make him jealous back.”
 

I ignored Dean completely until he went away, my eyes, every iota of my concentration on the couple speaking, and leaning close together outside.
 
She touched his arm twice.
 
I counted.
   

“I say we just leave.
 
Just get out of here.
 
You in the mood for some In-N-Out?
 
It’s good drinking food.”

“Yes.”
 
I turned decisively away from the window, done torturing myself with
that
.
 
If he wanted to talk to his ex, he could wonder where the hell I’d gone.
 
I didn’t particularly want a burger and I hadn’t had even a sip of alcohol, but that was not the point.
 

He’d texted me five times by the time we were ten minutes away.
 
I just watched the screen flash, not even reading them at first.

“Let’s talk it out, girl,” Frankie drawled, shooting me a sideways eyebrow lift.
 
“You look mad enough to spit.”

“I think he still has feelings for her,” just sort of fell out of my mouth.
 
I felt childish and paranoid, but I couldn’t shake the awful way it made me feel to see them talking to each other.
 
“You don’t get jealous enough to fight somebody because they hooked up with someone you broke up with years ago unless you still care about that person, right?”
 

Frankie shook her head, sighing loudly and dramatically.
 
“I don’t know.
 
Those guys do have a rule about that.
 
They don’t hook up with each other’s girlfriends, ex or not.”

“Yet they’ve slept up with the same women before.
 
Makes no sense.”
 

“I doesn’t make any sense to me either.
 
That is definitely a guy thing.
 
Somehow calling a chick your girlfriend changes everything.”
 

My phone dinged with another message, and I had the strong urge to chuck it out the window.
 
“I need to stop going to these stupid parties with him all the time.
 
They’re pure drama.”
 
If I was honest with myself, I was terrified for him to go to one without me.
 
Twatalie seemed to be lurking everywhere, just waiting for her chance.

“That’s not a bad idea.
 
You have enough on your plate without dealing with Dean’s instigating ass.”
 

“I could have gotten some studying done tonight, or even just helped Jerry with the boys.
 
Anything would have been better than going out and watching my man get chummy with his ex.”
 

“I know I’ve said it before, but if it helps I’ll say it again; I don’t think there’s a chance in hell he’d ever touch her with a ten foot pole.”
 

It did help.
 

We ate burgers and skipped the fries.
 
We’d decided that the fries were the fattening part, and the burgers were just good solid protein.

We were heading back before I checked my texts.
 
I rolled my eyes when I saw that there were thirteen of them.
 
The last one told me all I needed to know about his mood.

Tristan:
 
Where the fuck did you go?

I made a face at my phone for that one, and my reply was short.

Danika:
 
Left with Frankie.

His answer was immediate.
 

Tristan:
 
Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving?

That was all the invitation I needed to vent.
 

Danika:
 
I would have, but you were busy talking to Nat.

My phone started ringing, and I cringed inwardly before answering.
 

“Hey…” I began.
 

“
She
fucking walked up to
me
!” his angry voice was loud enough that I held the phone away from my ear.
 
“I wanted nothing to do with her.
 
I never do.
 
Where are you?
 
I’m coming to get you.”
 

“We’re driving back to the party now.”

“We’re ten minutes out!” Frankie called loud enough to be heard on his end.
 

“Are you mad about this bullshit?” Tristan asked, his voice low and mean and just his tone would have had me mad if I wasn’t already.

“I don’t know.
 
Are you mad enough about Natalie sleeping with Dean after you broke up to fight him over it?”
 

He cursed on the other end.
 
“That is
not
what happened.
 
Dean is just trying to start shit, as usual.”

“Answer me this then:
 
Are you upset that they slept together?”
 

“I’m not mad at Natalie.
 
Believe me when I say that I couldn’t care less who she hooks up with.
 
I’m upset with Dean.
 
He’s crossing boundaries we set up fucking years ago, and he’s starting shit between you and me when there’s no call for it, and it’s none of his fucking business.”
 

He both had and hadn’t answered my question, but I suddenly felt silly about the entire thing.
 
He’d only been talking to her, and it wasn’t like they’d gone off alone.
   

His voice suddenly got very soft and from the first word, I knew I was done for.
 
“Let’s not fight, sweetheart.
 
You know you’re the only one I want.”

Did I know that?
 
The man had gotten around before he met me.
 
Hell, he’d been getting around even after that.
 
But he
had
been on his best behavior since we’d become exclusive.
 
I should know, since we were practically attached at the hip.

“I don’t want to fight either,” I conceded.
 

I glared at Frankie as she sent a smirk in my direction.
 
Everyone knew that Tristan had me wrapped around his little finger.
 

“Does this mean we skip straight to the make-up sex?” Tristan’s low voice rumbled across the line, making things low in my stomach clench.
 
“Want me to pull your hair and give you a rough ride, sweetheart?
 
Fuck the angst out?”
 

I snuck a peek at Frankie, and by the irrepressible grin on her face, she was hearing every word he was saying.
 
“I’ll see you in a minute,” I barked at him, hanging up.
 

“You’re blushing,” Frankie observed with a laugh.
 

“That man is shameless,” I grumbled.
 

CHAPTER THREE

DANIKA

Tristan was standing in the middle of the street, arms crossed over his chest, as we drove up.
 
He looked ready to fight…or pull some hair and do some hard fucking.
 

“Man, he’s got some impressive arms,” Frankie remarked.
 

Did he ever.
 
They were bulging and tatted up and looking ready to bust the seams of his black T-shirt.
 

He looked mean, and gorgeous, and his glowering expression did contrary things to my libido.
 

God, I wanted him.
 

“I’m not gonna lie, he is fucking hot, if you’re into that kind of thing, which it’s apparent you are.”
 

I barely heard Frankie as I watched Tristan stride around to my side of the car, pulling the door open before we were even fully stopped at the curb.
   

“Relax, loverboy,” Frankie called to him, “we were only gone an hour.”
 

He barely answered her, just giving her the most perfunctory wave before he tugged me out of the car.
 

“Let’s go home,” he growled, pretty much dragging me after him down the sidewalk.
 

“Goodnight!” Frankie shouted loudly.
 

“Call you tomorrow!” I yelled back, suddenly just as anxious as Tristan to get us to his car.
 
All it had taken was one smoldering glance.
 

“You like fighting,” I accused him, my voice low.
 

“Hardly.
 
What I like is fucking you, and I can’t do that when you’re ditching me at parties.”
 

I just glared at him, no comeback coming to mind.
 
It didn’t help that he was making me equal parts horny and mad.
 

“We grabbed a burger.
 
You were busy, so I don’t see how you can complain.”
 

“What do you want me to do, run when she comes near me?
 
Should I have shoved her in the pool?”
 

That painted an appealing picture that had me smiling.
 
“You might have earned some brownie points, if you had.”
 

He grimaced as he handed me into the car.
 

I changed the subject, just as tired as he was of talking about Natalie.
 
“You sure you’re good to drive?”
 

“Yeah.
 
We were talking more than drinking.”
 
He got behind the wheel, not looking at me as he started the car.
 

“Take off your panties.”
 
His tone was casual, idle even.
 

My nipples tightened, a heavy, delicious feeling pooling between my legs.
 
“We aren’t that far from your apartment,” I protested, even as my hands inched my skirt up, pulling at the tiny string of my panties.
 
I yanked them down impatiently.
 

“Just a warm up, pudding.”

I swallowed hard as he started driving with one hand, and the other went to my upper thigh, rubbing hard.
 
“I’m already warmed up.”
 
I’d come a long way from needing much foreplay.
 
He had me well tuned, in a constant state of rut that matched his own.
 

“Open your legs.
 
Prove it.”

I parted my legs, my hips moving towards his hand.
 
He inched it higher, but not enough.
 

“You wet?
 
Show me.
 
I want your pussy crying for me.”
 

I grabbed his hand, tugging it until his knuckles grazed my entrance.
 
We both sucked in a breath at the light contact.
 

He turned his wrist in my hand, shoving two fingers in deep before I knew his intent.
 
My eyes shut and I moaned loudly.
 

“God, I love your hands,” I groaned.
 

He dragged his fingers out slowly, wriggling them along my inner walls, making me squirm and curse.
 
He punched them back in hard, and I kicked a shoe off, digging one heel into the car seat, tilting my hips up as far as they’d go, lost to sensation, worried only about my own race toward release, the world coming down to what his fingers were doing to me.

He got me off fast, knowing just where to touch and how hard to work me.
 

I only realized that the car was stopped as I came back down from my orgasm, his fingers dragging out of me.
 
I started to sit up as I saw that his jeans were unfastened.
 
His cock was bared, hard and prominent, one big hand fisting it.
 

I moaned at the sight.
 

“Let me,” I offered, trying to sit up.
 
He jammed his fingers back inside of me, pinning me where I was.
 

“No.
 
I want this right here,” he moved his fingers to demonstrate what ‘this’ was, “so I’ll wait until we’re home.
 
I want a rough ride, so I’m just warming you up.
 
I’m going to nail you to the wall.”
 

“Ahhh,” I gasped as his fingers started up a rhythm, then protested when they abruptly left me.

“Buckle up, boo.
 
We’re going home.”
 

I sat up and fastened my seat belt, eyeing up his bared erection as he started to drive.
 
I lasted maybe thirty seconds before my hand began to inch toward it.
 

I gripped him hard, having to lean far to the left to get a good hold of it.
 
My fingers barely touched around the girth of him.
 
I thought that was the hottest thing in the world.