Vegas Moon (6 page)

“God, you’re beautiful.” Carefully he placed himself between her thighs.

“Ah, baby, this is exactly where I want to be.” He kissed her.

And then slid his cock inside her. A few gentle pumps were all it took for him to almost fill her. He felt like heaven. The tingling in her body returned, and within seconds the sensation moved through her body to her toes. On her second moan, he thrust a little harder, burying himself up to the hilt.

“Hey,” Cindi whispered, “I don’t want you to fuck anyone but me.”

“Exclusive, eh?”

“Yes, exclusive.”

A silence cloaked the room again. Tristan cupped her ass cheeks in his hands and pumped his cock faster into her slick pussy. And she loved it, loved fucking him. “Harder and faster,” she whispered in between their heavy panting.

“Let me untie you.” Tristan didn’t wait for a reply, but set his request in motion. She was untied, flipped on her stomach with him at her backdoor entrance. And if the truth be told, she knew from their many days and nights of lovemaking that he liked to fuck her that way, and that was just fine with her.

She loved his cock in all her orifices.

Tristan woke the next morning with Cindi spooned against his chest. The hint of last night’s festivities still hung in the air. The sunlight peeked through the cracks of the blinds in the room, illuminating the pink in the strands of her hair. Who’d have known that someone could look so damned sexy with pink hair? Leave it up to Cindi.

He gently lifted the covers from her body and slid his gaze over her. He was instantly hard just looking at her, something he’d like to call the Cindi effect. He ran a finger over her shoulder and then across her perfect sized tanned breasts. When he reached the diamond stud in her naval, a little moan escaped her lips and her sapphire-colored eyes inched open.

“Morning, candy man.” Her raspy voice always put a smile on his face. Today wasn’t different in the least.

Tristan sat up, resting his back against the headboard. Cindi swung her arms around his waist and laid her head on his chest. “Did you sleep okay?” he asked.

“I did.” Cindi tightened her hold on him. He planted a kiss to the top of her head.

“What should we do today?” Cindi licked his stomach, placing a kiss underneath his right nipple.

“If you keep doing that we’re going to be doing what we did all night last night all day today, too.”

Then she bit his nipple, sending his cock to attention within one minute. “That wouldn’t be so bad, would it?”

“Not at all, baby.” He touched her chin and tilted her head toward him. “Spending every moment of every day loving you is what I call heaven on earth.”

Confusion set immediately in her expression followed by what he could only describe as fear. “Tristan, let’s not ruin what we have talking about forever. Hell, the rate I’m going I may not be alive tomorrow. We both know I’m not the best type of forever girl.”

That’s not what she wanted last night. She’d mentioned forever, and now all of a sudden she’d seemed to not remember that conversation at all.
Head games, damn he was so tired of her head games.

Perturbed but not wanting to ruin the moment, he replied, “Let’s not talk about forever right now, and let’s enjoy each other.”

Cindi reached up and touched her lips to his, and then she deepened the kiss and slid her tongue into his mouth. He loved how forceful she was, how she took what she wanted from him and didn’t play the shy, sweet woman. It wasn’t like he’d had a ton of that sort of woman in his life, but the ones he’d had desired a gentleness that just wasn’t in him.

When she cupped his cock and started moving her hand up then down, he chuckled.

She stopped kissing him and pinned him with a wickedly sexy look. “And what is so funny?”

“Nothing.”

She gave a questioning look. “Spill it, caramel candy.”

“I love the way you take what you want. That you lack any type of shyness in the bedroom.”

She smirked and bent down to take his cock into her mouth when the phone rang. “Ah, shit.”

“Let it ring,” he practically begged her. His imploring probably had shown vividly in the way he’d pressed down on her head when she tried to come off him. Not wanting her wrath or for him to appear overeager, he released his hold even though he would have really enjoyed his cock sucked.

She scooted up. “Can’t, candy man. I told Mia I’d be available if she needed me, so I need to make sure that call isn’t from her.”

By the time the phone rang a third time, Cindi answered.

When it came to Mia, Cindi’s best friend, she’d stop heaven and earth to protect her. She’d shown that to the entire Stiletto House when Jordan, the second-in-command of the house, had set his sights on Mia, and continued to show them even after their wedding, Mia, Paige, and Cindi’s kidnapping, and then the breakup and makeup. Yeah, Tristan never had the type of friendship with any dude that Cindi had with Mia, and he knew he couldn’t stop her from answering the phone if there was a possibility of Mia’s voice on the other end.

Cindi, in all her beautiful nakedness, stood perfectly still listening with severe intensity to the caller on the other end of the phone.

Her beautiful, pale shoulders squared as the conversation on the other end of the line progressed. Although she wasn’t saying much, Tristan could assume from her body language that a situation was the culprit.

“What the fuck!” Cindi yelled the words. Anger slid across her facial landscape. “You sent her to Victoria? Right? Yes, you’re right. She’ll be safe there. Tristan and I will be in Florida as soon as we can. We’re leaving now.” She hung up the phone.

“That was Jordan. I can’t believe this shit! There’s a copycat killer on the loose.” She sucked in a breath as her complexion went from golden tan to blotched shades of red. “He’s targeting Mia.” She shook her head. “Here we go again, another of Jordan’s enemies targeting my best friend. We’re going to Florida.”

As soon as the word Mia left her lips, Tristan was at her side.

And then he was running after her as she struck the room like a whirlwind, packing everything back into her suitcases.

“Calm down, baby.” He slid his hands around her waist and tried to pull her against him even with her body restraint. From the conversation he’d overhead, he knew Mia was headed to New Orleans. It was common knowledge within their group that Mia and Jordan had been enjoying an extended vacation and opted not to attend the Vegas coven party. “Let me call Jordan back.”

“No.” Cindi stopped him with a hand to his arm. “Jordan is waiting for us in Florida. He said he’s on his way to the Cassadaga Police Station. We don’t want to detain him from getting information. Time is of major importance.”

Obviously Tristan’s inner confusion at her mention of the cops showed on his face, because Cindi added, “The copycat killer started sending letters to Mia the day she and Jordan left for their extended trip, but they didn’t receive the letters until last week because even with the mail forwarded they’d been all over Europe, so the mail hadn’t reached them until yesterday.”

“Oh.”

“Tristan, the first letter was postmarked the day after they’d left for that trip. It’s been a few months.” She grabbed a Slipknot T-shirt and black jeans from her suitcase, and started quickly dressing. She missed the pant leg each time she attempted to stick her foot into the material. “Shit!”

Tristan buttoned his jeans and dropped to his knees in front of her. “Here, baby, let me help.”

He held the jeans steady as she stepped into them. “Call a cab,” she insisted.

“We don’t need a cab. I have a rental car,” he added.

“Good. Then grab your shoes, keys, and let’s burn rubber.” Cindi was already out the door with her last word. Tristan grabbed what he needed and followed. She was already in the car by the time he’d reached her.

The drive to the airport was harrowing. Tristan made the mistake of letting Cindi drive, not a mistake he’d make again. The way she’d weaved in and out of traffic he’d surely aged ten years. Hell, she’d probably like that, then he’d be closer to her age and perhaps they could finally move past the age block. When they’d finally pulled into McCarran International Airport, he was relieved. They hadn’t died, received a ticket, or totaled the rental car.

So far so good.

By the time they were snug in their seats in the 747, Tristan let out a much-needed, long sigh.

“Baby, we will be there soon. Try to relax.” He unscrewed the lid of the Pepsi bottle he’d pulled from his backpack and then stowed the pack under the seat.

Cindi turned tired and concerned eyes on him. “I’ll try. It’s just, if anything happens to Mia, I’ll never forgive myself for advising her that it was okay to marry Jordan.”

These words halted Tristan. What was she saying? Stop Mia from marrying Jordan?

“You don’t mean that. You’re just worried, baby.”

“I do mean it. I knew what type of man Jordan was before she’d agreed to marry him. But I thought he’d changed. Perhaps people can’t really change at all.”

Yes, people could change. He’d known Jordan a lot longer than Cindi or Mia, and he’d seen the evolution of change that attacked Jordan when he’d met Mia. Hell, Tristan knew the change he’d personally gone through when Cindi stepped into his world.

He needed to set his woman straight. “Baby, you’re being unfair. Give Jordan a break. His checkered past isn’t going to disappear overnight. You know as well as I do how much he loves Mia. Don’t give up on him.” He stopped talking and just studied her. By the softening of her expression he knew she was thinking seriously about his words. “Don’t give up on the power of love. You know, when a man loves a woman the way Jordan loves Mia, nobody or nothing can sever the bond.”

“I want to believe you, Tristan. I really do. I pray you’re right.”

“I am, baby. Now try to catch a few winks before we land at JFK.”

Hours later the plane had landed at its final destination the Orlando International Airport. It was actually good time, figuring in the layover at JFK. Cindi and Tristan hadn’t wasted any time gathering the luggage or hailing a cab. They’d made it to Stiletto House at the same time Jamison and Jordan showed up. Cindi had just hung up the phone with Mia when Tristan, Jordan, and Jamison came into the living room.

“Victoria picked Mia up at the airport, and they’re on the way to her place.” Relief laced Cindi’s voice.

Jamison placed a hand on her back. “No one will mess with Mia. Victoria won’t allow it.” He hesitated briefly and shot a glance at Jordan. “I won’t allow it.”

Those four words silenced the room. Tristan waited for the bickering between Jamison and Jordan to start. With the history between Jordan and Jamison, the look Jordan shot at Jamison was understandable.

Two men in love with the same woman.

Being the upstanding dude that Jamison was, he stepped aside and didn’t pursue Mia when he knew Jordan loved her, too. They’ve remained friends even after Jordan broke Mia’s heart. At the time Mia took him back, Tristan thought she was a moron, but now, with the way he felt about Cindi, it was understandable.

The dead silence from Jamison’s remark lingered in the room until Jordan finally broke through the quiet. “I wouldn’t expect anything less from you, Jamison. Do what it takes to protect my wife.” Jordan raked his fingers through his hair. “You mean a lot to her.”

Dang if that didn’t take Jordan some big cojones to admit. Sometimes it was hard for Tristan to believe that even after Jamison tried to win Mia’s heart away from Jordan during their brief breakup, that they’d still remained the best of friends.

Jamison would take a bullet for Jordan and vice versa.

Tristan piped in, “She means a lot to all of us, Jordan. We’ll do what it takes to keep her safe.” Of course he had to get his sentiments in and he was glad he did when he saw the loving way Cindi glanced at him. Cindi made him want to be a better man. He may be young, as Cindi reminded him of every moment she could, but he was determined to win her love forever.

He just needed to persuade her that she deserved a forever kind of love.

Just like Mia and Jordan shared.

And possibly Victoria and Jamison. The jury was still out on that one.

Jordan acknowledged his response with a nod and took a seat in one of the red chairs near the fireplace. Tristan placed a hand on the small of Cindi’s back. He waited for her to pull away from him, a defense mechanism she used when her nerves spiked or he showed any type of concern for her well-being in public, but she didn’t pull away this time. Instead she laced her arm around him and placed her head against his chest.

And practically stopped his beating heart.

PDA in public?

A warm rush of emotion plummeted through his veins as he reached down and kissed the top of her head. And she didn’t slap him. Things were looking really good for the two of them right about now. Why not push his luck a little further? A big squeeze came next.

Once again she didn’t pull away from him, snuggling closer against him.

This woman was burrowing deep into his heart and soul.

Jamison sucked down a shot of Jack Daniel’s and poured a second. “Chief Jasperillo is on his way over here to see if we have any useful information.”

“You mean he’s coming over to see if I have any more men that want me dead.” The sharpness in Jordan’s words silenced the room. Tristan could honestly admit that he felt sorry for his mentor right now. Yeah, Jordan had the type of relationships with women that all men dreamt about but few enjoyed. But it must really suck to know that so many people may want you dead.

Cindi let out a sigh. “Jordan, he isn’t coming over here to personally accuse you of anything.”

“Sure he is. You know as well as I do that another irate spouse or boyfriend is coming after me because I’d fucked their girlfriend or wife at some point in my life.” Jordan’s six foot frame had already moved from the chair to the minibar. A shot of whiskey later and Jordan added, “I will kill anyone who tries to hurt a hair on my wife’s head. I won’t stop myself this time.”