Vegas Moon (8 page)

“Stop.” His hand clamped on the hand she was stroking his dick with. Once he’d stopped her from jacking him off and pulled her to a sitting position, he followed suit. “You’ve made it perfectly clear on several occasions that there isn’t an ‘us.’ So it’s time for you to explain that comment.”

“No. I don’t need to explain what I said.” Her face took on a fearful expression and then just as quickly morphed into a confrontational one. “Why must I explain?”

“Because baby, your head-games are bull-shit.”

Had she just realized she said she loved him in a roundabout way?

Hell no, she wasn’t getting away from admitting it this time. He snatched her by the wrists holding her place.

“You know what, baby? This time you do. You may not want to explain it, but I want to hear it. I’m so tired of playing games with you. Why in the hell can’t you admit how you feel about me?”

“Words are cheap. You know how I feel about you.”

He released his grasp on her wrists and swung his legs over the bed preparing to escape before their discussion turned into another fight. “They may be cheap, but sometimes a man needs to hear them.”

He’d already got out of bed and dressed when she asked after a long silence, “Where are you going?”

“To raid the liquor cabinet and drink myself into oblivion. I need to get you out of my system tonight. It’s just too bad that drinking won’t rip you from my system completely.”

He was already out the door when she yelled, “Wait. You don’t mean that.”

The door slammed, and he kept on walking. He damned well meant it. With everything that had transpired tonight, the seriousness of events, how could she still deny him the three words he needed to hear from her? Well, at least he could drown his sorrows tonight. Lick his wounds per se. He’d surely regret it in the morning, but for tonight, it would be his solace. Jack Daniel’s was waiting for him. It was never nice to make a good friend wait very long. The living room was dark. Just the moonlight sifted through the closed window shades. He grabbed the bottle of Jack from the cabinet, positioned himself comfortably on the sofa, and then stuck one of the small couch pillows under his head setting out to drink himself into oblivion. After he’d downed about a third of the bottle, he calmed and slipped into peaceful oblivion.

Restful, forgetful sleep turned into head games, with Cindi as his dream lover. He tossed and turned until finally a sound tore him from his dream world. Half-dazed he opened his eyes.

A moment later all hell broke loose.

A blood-curdling scream sounded. Panic and confusion fought for space in his head. He sprang into a sitting position. As he shook his head to clear his fogged senses, the scream came again. He lunged from the sofa and his toe hit an object at his feet. He glanced down at the half-empty Jack bottle and was reminded of all previous activities.

No wonder he felt like shit.

And the scream came again.

Moments later he’d bolted through his bedroom door. Cindi still slept as her low whimper filled the room. When he reached the bed, he slipped his arms around her and pressed her upper body close to his chest. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re having a bad dream,” he whispered, sliding an open hand across her forehead.

Sweat soaked her brow.

Her startled blue eyes opened. An unfocused look searched his face. “Tristan?”

When he’d drank himself into a drunken stupor, he was so mad at her he wanted to do everything he could to hurt her, but now she was different. She was holding onto him like a scared child. This was a side of her that he’d only seen a few times, and those times were shortly after her and Mia’s kidnapping.

The things that Ennisbrooke did to Cindi, no woman should have had to endure. And the images that filled his head from earlier this evening, the ones he’d tried to forget, came again. When Jamison and Jordan found Cindi, she was beaten to a pulp and mentally castrated. Tristan still didn’t know the full extent of Ennisbrooke’s infliction of pain, only that it was constant for an entire three days. Tristan would have fully understood if Cindi never wanted to take part in the blood-play sport again after her trauma, but to his surprise she’d asked him to continue their weekly time in the blood-play room.

“Hey, baby. You’ve had a bad dream. Nothing more. Try to go back to sleep.”

He continued to caress her forehead and hair.

“Stay with me. Please don’t go,” she pleaded.

All she had to do was ask him once. When she pleaded a second time, he crawled into the bed beside her and wrapped his body around her. She hadn’t dressed and the warmth from her naked flesh was so inviting. He fanned a hand down her arm, and kissed the top of her head. “I’m here, baby.”

The shallow breathing stopped. He glanced down to find her staring at him.

And then she said the words he’d thought he’d never hear from her in his lifetime.

“I…I love you, Tristan. I know it’s been hard for me to admit it, and that I’ve done everything humanly possible to push you away, but I can’t lose you. I don’t want to be just a fuck buddy or any other type of buddy. I want to be your woman. The only one you’ll ever want.”

Her words seized up the air in his lungs. She’d said the three words he’d been waiting for so long to hear from her lips. He had to hear it again. “What?”

Tears spilled from her eyes. The wetness trickled down the finger he’d placed on her cheek. “I love you, Tristan.” She stopped. “I totally understand if you don’t love me. I’ve done everything humanly possible to push you away. I wouldn’t blame you if you left me here and now and walked out of my life for good. I’ve been pretty horrible to you. A severe mind fuck.”

He chuckled. Yeah, mind fuck was putting in lightly. A major mind fuck more like it. But the truth was, he loved her more than words could relay. This magenta-haired woman had a hold on him that could never be broken.

As far as he was concerned, he never wanted it broken.

“Ah, baby, I love you.” He covered her mouth with his, just as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

* * * *

Tristan’s tongue rimmed her lips, teasing her mouth to open for him. She obliged and sucked his tongue into her mouth. Her action drew a moan from him, releasing an instant moist path between her legs. She needed to show him how much she loved and adored him.

Desire to love him coiled tightly in her gut. Warmth caressed the parts of her body that yearned for him.

She stopped kissing him and looked up at him, suddenly stuck by the perfection of his features. His mouth curved in the type of smile she hadn’t seen on him in a long time—he seemed carefree, playful, and happy. To think that it only took her to admit that she did love him to change him into this contented and happy man.

The emotions rubbing her subconscious were edged with a joy that made her want to rearrange the heavens and earth so he could feel this way all the time. “Do you remember the first time we met?”

His wickedly sexy smile confirmed the answer long before he’d said a word. “Yes, baby. I remember every moment of the night that you picked me up.”

She chuckled. “I was a bit forceful when it came to you.”

Boy, was she ever. Picking up a high school student, even though he was eighteen, was a stupid move, but one she did just the same.

“That’s what attracted me to you. I could tell by the way you lured me behind the curtain backstage of the theater that you were someone special.” His voice was rich with desire.

With her own desire inching through her body, she kissed his neck, and then she smiled against his skin, tracing another sensitive spot with her tongue and enjoying the moan that escaped him.

“Actually, I was hoping to get into your pants, but had to reconsider since we were in a high school theater.”

His laugh rumbled out, hard arms tightened around her and held her snug. “Had we not been in the theater I would have let you into my pants. Damn, I wanted you so bad that night, baby.” He let out a sexy half breath. “And every night since then.”

His lips covered hers again. She opened her mouth, seeking his taste, desiring the way his kiss made her feel, moaning at the softness of his tongue mingling with hers. Their tongues continued to twirl together and suddenly she realized the intimate moment weaved more than lust between them. Seconds later he was naked, and she was flat on her back with him on top of her. She wrapped her legs around his hips, rubbing against him in silent, hungry enticement. His hand moved lower as he clasped her closer.

“Take me, candy man.” His body was so hard, so sleek, and so ready for her. She sighed deeply when he reached between her legs and stroked the soft hair. And in reciprocation she grasped his cock, rubbing him in time to the same rhythmic strokes he used on her. Once again his mouth absorbed her babbling cries.

“I want you now, baby.”

In a smooth motion, he flipped her over. His mouth continued to caress her neck, making her shiver with a longing desire for him to enter her. The hard length of his cock pressed against the crack of her ass until it slipped apart and then he started rubbing it against the wanton flesh.

“I love you, baby,” he whispered in that promising tone that she’d grown to love. She was about to reply in kind, but only a gasp came out when he drove his cock into her ass. He slid both of his hands around the top of her thighs. He started pumping his cock slowly, and as her moans increased, so did the boost in the pace of his motion. Another tantalizing slow withdrawal of his cock built a sensation of heat, and when it was followed by a swift deep thrust, she felt as if her skin ignited.

“Oh…Tristan, you feel so good inside me.”

“It’s where I belong, baby.” His words dripped with such deep emotion and raw, unbridled passion she was almost brought to tears.

She was no doubt sure that the extra swell of emotions catapulting through her body was matched with his. As he slid his cock slowly in and out, she gripped him with her inner muscles. His half-caught groan only reassured what she’d already discovered, that he loved when she did that, so she kept doing it, squeezing him with every muscle she had when his flesh slid out inch by magnificent inch.

Finally she could hear, see, smell, taste, and feel him within her.

“Don’t stop.” The growled words almost ended on the cusp of a beg.

“Harder and faster,” she demanded.

The power of his body was captivating in every way.

His lips touched her ear, and then his tongue licked the side of her neck as he gently slid his cock from her ass and flipped her body until she was flat on her back.

“You are such a beautiful woman,” he whispered as he grabbed a baby wipe from the nightstand and wiped his cock. He chuckled.

Her gaze widened. “What’s so funny?”

“I was just thinking about how much shit I gave you about the baby wipes. They’ve come in handy.”

She giggled. “Never underestimate the power of baby wipes, candy man. Especially when sex is involved.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. Now, open up nice and wide, baby. I’m coming inside.”

She opened her legs nice and wide for him as he slid himself back into her wet center.

Time stood perfectly still, or so it seemed. Pleasure beyond words bathed her.

She tried to keep her eyes open, to look into the depths of his caramel-colored eyes, but the mounting pleasure building between them kept dragging them shut. Ecstasy built, drawing from the slightest movements of his body as well as those unbelievable thrusts, until her entire body shuddered from the intensity. The orgasm came quick. The relentless way he continued to pump his cock inside her only added to the pleasure moving through her body.

A few seconds later his orgasm shook them both. For several moments afterward she couldn’t move or speak. She could only cling to him, savoring every last tremor of his climax. Finally her lids fluttered open. At some point between the onset of her orgasm and his, she’d closed her eyes.

“You are so fucking beautiful.” His passion-filled gaze bore into her, making her feel beyond special. Tonight she’d taken all he was giving, and absorbed the heat that was him.

“You’re not so bad yourself.” A brown curl slid from his forehead and swept across her cheek. “As a matter of fact, you are fucking fantastic.”

His chuckle mingled with hers. His laughter was like a favorite blanket, one that she never wanted to live without. She knew, without a doubt, that he had burrowed a place deep in her soul.

New Orleans

One week had passed since Cindi, Jordan, Jamison, and Tristan arrived in New Orleans. Victoria, always her hospitable self, put Jordan, Mia, Cindi, and Tristan up at one of the many condos she owned in the Garden District. Jamison stayed with Victoria at her condo in the French Quarter.

The antique grandfather clock in the foyer of the condo had just struck noon, the chime resonating through the condo when Mia stepped off the last step of the spiral staircase leading from the bedrooms.

“Morning, Cin.” Mia smiled even though she looked exhausted.

It ripped Cindi wide open with concern to see her best friend look so tired.

“You’re looking pretty rough this morning, girlfriend.” Cindi set the newspaper she’d had tucked under her arm onto the coffee table. “Didn’t sleep very good last night, did you?”

Mia winced and then swept her long dark-brown hair over her shoulder and plopped down on the sofa next to Cindi. “How’d you know?”

“You look like shit. You want to tell me about it?”

Mia hesitated briefly and a wince creased her face a second time. “My husband is smothering me. And…so are all of you.”

Cindi arched a brow, definitely hiding a chuckle. “We care about you, babe. I mean we could probably back off a bit, but your husband is another story. You know how much he loves you. And to think that you may be in danger again, well, it’s making him crazy.”

Her best friend glanced to the floor and then narrowed her gaze. “How many times is this going to happen to us…men of women he fucked wanting to hurt me? I feel like a prisoner. A prisoner in my own skin.”