Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 147051 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 735(@200wpm)___ 588(@250wpm)___ 490(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147051 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 735(@200wpm)___ 588(@250wpm)___ 490(@300wpm)
“Uh, nah. I’m not really feeling it tonight. But you have fun.” If Bea wasn’t so edgy, we might have had a few hours alone, and I could have gotten another fix.
“Come on, man. You’ve been a pretty shitty wingman lately,” he presses.
I rub the back of my neck. I don’t want to find creative ways to avoid sleeping with a bunny tonight. “Hemi’s not wrong, man.”
“Not wrong about what?”
“About this shit coming back to bite us in the ass. My youngest brother sees what’s going on in my life through social media. It’s not really the best role modeling.”
Flip snorts. “Since when have you been worried about being a good role model?”
I can’t explain it to him without adding more lies to the pile, and another side of guilt for wanting his sister. “I just… I’m not in the mood to pick up.”
He holds his hands up. “Okay. It’s cool. I’ll call Dallas.”
He grabs his phone and heads for his bedroom.
Roman’s words keep rolling around in my head. I’m not staying home because of Bea. We’re just fucking. That’s it.
CHAPTER 12
RIX
Afew days post waking up in Tristan’s bed, I’m in the kitchen, prepping dinner when he walks through the door. Flip isn’t with him. He has a dinner meeting with his agent.
The other night, when I got back from drinks with Hemi and Hammer, Flip had gone out, so I was alone with Tristan. I failed to resist his snack status and jumped on him like a dick-hungry puck bunny. I got three orgasms out of the deal. And again the next night. And the next. I believe that brings us to yesterday.
“Hey.” Tristan drops his keys on the side table.
“Hey,” I reply, but I don’t look his way as he crosses the room.
He props his hip against the counter. “How’s it going?”
Just the feel of his eyes on me makes everything below the waist clench. I reach for the closest vegetable, which is an English cucumber, and move to the sink. I’m making cucumber salad because I bought a three pack. “I’m good. You?”
“Spent a lot of time today thinking about last night, if I’m honest.” His voice is deceptively soft. “Helped keep me occupied during the boring parts of the team meeting.”
Last night Flip didn’t come home, so I spent a good part of it getting railed. I slept in the loft, though, unfortunately, as we were unsure if Flip was spending the whole night elsewhere. “That’s nice.” I run the cucumber under cold water and, like an idiot, start stroking it.
Tristan’s chest brushes my back, and he presses his hips against mine, pinning me to the counter as he sets down a pint of my favorite ice cream. “I got you a treat. Moose Tracks is your favorite, right?”
“It is. That’s really sweet of you.” And unexpected. I didn’t realize he paid attention to the things I like.
“I felt like you deserved it after last night.” His hands land on either side of me. His erection nudges my lower back as his lips ghost along the column of my throat. “What are you doing?”
“Making dinner. What does it look like?”
He nips my earlobe. “Like you’re giving a hand job to a cucumber.” One palm leaves the counter and slides under my shirt. His fingertips travel over my stomach, and he cups one bare breast. “You thinking about getting fucked?”
I shrug, but anticipation makes my heart gallop and my voice shake. “You’re rubbing your dick on my ass. Hard not to think about it.”
He steps back and tugs my shorts over my hips. “What happened to your panties, Bea?” He kneads the bare flesh and gives it a swat.
I moan as I drop the cucumber on the counter and push my ass toward him. He grabs the hem of my shirt and pulls it over my head, leaving me naked in the middle of the kitchen.
He wraps my ponytail around his fist. His other hand splays out over my stomach. “I asked you a question. Where’d your panties go?”
“I took them off when I got home.” After I realized Flip would be out, I wanted to be ready for Tristan. Especially since I don’t have to be quiet. The ache between my thighs is almost unbearable.
“And why was that?” His nose brushes my cheek.
“Because I couldn’t stop thinking about last night either, and I soaked through them,” I admit.
“Did you think about getting fucked again all day?” He peppers kisses along my shoulder.
“Yes. I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” It’s never been like this for me. I’ve never felt so utterly consumed by someone.
“Even on the train ride home?” His hand glides down my stomach and cups me.
I nod.
“Did you take care of yourself when you got home?” He nibbles my neck.
I shake my head and tip it to give him better access. I love this part, when his hands are all over me, when he’s kissing me, soft before he gets dirty.