Bad Things (Tristan & Danika #1) (26 page)

With an impatient little moan, I reached down and pulled it up over my breast.
 
He cupped my flesh, then kneaded softly.
 

He pulled back, but before I could protest, he was perching me on the edge of the pool, his head buried between my breasts.
 
He peeled the material of my bikini aside with his teeth, sucking my nipple into his mouth.
 

I gripped his head, trying to get a good handful, but it was too short.
 
“You need longer hair,” I gasped.
 

He grunted, turning his head, kissing his way to the other side.
 
His mouth was hot on me, and I writhed at the contact.
 

We were both panting when he pulled back.
 
The second his head left my hands, I leaned back on my arms, trying to remember how to make my brain work again.
 

He gave me very steady eye contact.
 
“I’ve been thinking,” he began, his voice low and rich.
 

I nodded at him to go on, far past the ability to think myself.
 

His hands moved to my stomach, and he started rubbing and then kneading my sides and my waist.
 
I trembled as he kneaded deep into the muscle tissue just below my navel.
 

“I have an idea,” he offered, one big hand dipping to rub at my hip, caressing the flesh inside and down…

I let out an unsteady breath as his hand skimmed past all of the rest, and began to rub my inner thigh.
 
I squirmed, my legs falling open for him.
   

“Do you want to hear it?” he asked, stepping away.
 

I just watched him as moved to grab one of the long floats that was lying along the side of the pool.
 

“Do you?” he asked, and I couldn’t have guessed what he was asking about to save my life.
 

“What?” I asked.
 

“Do you want to hear my idea?” he repeated, pulling the float to me.
 

He showed no visible strain as he lifted me onto the rolling surface.
 
He pushed me to my back on the inflatable plastic with a firm hand, and I gasped as water splashed into my lap, and onto my stomach with the movement.
 

“Yes,” I said raggedly.
 

“I don’t like relationships,” he explained.
 

“You don’t,” I agreed.

“And you don’t like casual sex,” he continued.

“I don’t.”

“So let’s try this.
 
I get you off.
 
That’s all.
 
It’s perfectly innocent.
 
You won’t feel used, and we stay friends.”

My brain felt too fuzzy just then to argue with the twisted logic he was using.
 
My brows drew together, and I latched onto the biggest gap in his argument.
 

“What do
you
get out of it?”

He smiled his best smile, the one that ruined me for every other smile in the world.
 

I had it worse than I’d realized until just that moment.
 

“I’ve become obsessed with the idea of making you come.
 
Ever since you told me that no one could get you off
—”

“I said hadn’t, not couldn’t,” I argued.

“What’s the difference?”

“The difference is that you weren’t supposed to take it as a challenge!”

“Well, ever since then, it’s all I can think about.
 
I’ve even been dreaming about it.
 
And then the other morning, when we woke up like that…”

As he’d been speaking, I’d started to regain some brain function, but it went away again in a little puff of smoke when he mentioned that wake up session.
 

He swallowed hard, his hands moving to rub my stomach, water splashing over the sides of the float and hitting me in gentle waves with his movements.
 
“When I helped you…pleasure yourself, well, I’d thought I was obsessed with it before that, but it got worse…Let me get you off.
 
Don’t worry about me.
 
I’ll go take a shower when you’re finished.”
 

“I’m not that easy to get off,” I warned him.
 
“I usually take a lot of time, and a vibrator.”
 

He lifted one of my hands to his mouth, palm first.
 
“How about a vibrating tongue?” he asked against my hand.
 

What he did next defied all explanation for me.
 
He moved his tongue in fast, jerky little circles on my palm.
 
He was so fast, in fact, that it felt like vibrations.
 

“What is that?
 
What are you doing?” I asked, trying in vain to pull my hand free.
 

“Demonstrating what I’m about to do to your clit.
 
Any objections?”
 

I couldn’t think of one.

He’d made a pretty spectacular promise, but he didn’t start there.
 

He began rather innocently, his hands massaging the sides of my legs.
 
Of course, his eyes weren’t innocent.
 
My bikini was askew, the triangles still pulled aside to reveal most of each breast, and his eyes were drinking in my dishabille.
 

He moved one hand to my inner thigh, shifting it so he could step between my legs as his huge hands worked on one lucky thigh.
 

“You have great hands,” I told him.
 

“I’m here any time you need a masseuse,” he reassured me.
 

“I need a masseuse.”

He gripped my hips, moving his hips between my thighs.
 
He pulled until his hardness was nestled against my sex.
 
Between my bikini, and his swim trunks, the position left nothing to the imagination.
 

I moaned at the contact.

I could literally feel his reaction to that as his erection twitched against me.

“Are you going to be complaining to me about blue balls later?” I asked as he began rubbing my shoulders.
 

“I won’t complain about any of this, hand to God.
 
In fact, doing this to you has been on my bucket list for a couple of weeks now.”

“I bet your bucket list is just full of chicks you want to go down on.”
 

He had worked down one arm and was massaging my hand.
 
I’d never realized how much tension I carried there until he was rubbing it out of me.
 
My eyes almost rolled back in my head, it felt so good.
 

“Nope.
 
Getting my hands on you was the only sexual act on that list.”
 

“What else is on that list?”
 

“I’ll tell you later.
 
Now’s not the best time.”

I saw what he meant as he worked his hands over my ribs and down into my navel.
 

“You have the sexiest fucking abs I’ve ever seen,” he told me, which made a thrill of pleasure run through me.
 
I’d been complimented by a lot of men, but Tristan always made me
feel
it.
   

My heavy lidded gaze went to his six-pack.
 
It was dripping wet and washboard tight.
 
“You should talk.”
 

He flashed a dimple at me for one brief instant before he took his mouth to me.
 
Neither of us did much talking after that.
 

It was the most surreal barrage of sensations, with the sun on my front while I floated on the water, Tristan moving his hot mouth over me, his hands massaging me everywhere.
 

His hips pushed mine underwater as he kissed my throat.
 

I shivered, throwing my arms around his hard shoulders, trying him to keep him there.
 

He didn’t cooperate, moving his lips to play at my collarbone, slipping down my body just enough to dislodge his lower half from mine, and bringing my hips back up above the water line.
 

I mumbled a protest.
 

“Sweetheart, I’m not a saint,” he said against my skin, his words making delicious little puffs against my skin with each word.
 
“If my cock stays there for long, it’s going to try to find a way inside.”

He nuzzled between my breasts, my top disappearing as though by magic.
 
It just went poof, no sign of it anywhere that I could see.
 

He sucked one aching tip into his mouth, his hand moving to cup the other one firmly.
 

My entire body was trembling with anticipation by the time he made it down to my lower belly.
 
Any self-control I may have possessed had long since evaporated.

I tried to push his head down further, tried to get his tongue closer to where he’d said it was going to go, but he didn’t budge an inch.
 

I tried another tactic.

“Please,” I said softly.
 

He chuckled against my hipbone, nuzzling there.
 
“Please won’t help you right now, Miss Over-thinker.
 
This isn’t about letting you stay in control.
 
This is about making you lose your mind.
 
I
say when you’re ready, and I plan to take my time getting you there.”
 

I swallowed and licked my lips, watching his slow as molasses progress south.
 
“No one’s ever gone down on me before.
 
You’ll be the first.”

“I know, and I plan to make it good for you.
 
I’ve given it just a bit of thought…”

“Well, could you do it sometime
today
?”

“Demanding is an even worse idea than begging,” he murmured into my skin.

I felt my teeth grinding together in frustration, but that didn’t last long.
 
His mouth moved to my inner thigh, making my jaw go slack.
 
He sucked hard at the spot between my thigh and my groin and I just about screamed.
 
He seemed to have insight into every sensitive nerve in my body.

He removed my bikini bottoms with his teeth, pulling each knot out slowly, torturously.
 

By the time his mouth made it to my sex, I was more primed than I’d ever been.
 
I could literally feel the moisture seeping out of me, which was not how my body usually operated.
 

He pushed his shoulders between my thighs, my heels digging into his back as he bent low.
 

The position tilted my hips up, and brought his face close, until I could feel him breathing into the hot core of me.
 
I held my breath.
 

He licked me, one deliciously long lap of his tongue, and my eyes rolled into the back of my head, my toes curling.
 

When he started circling my clit relentlessly with his impossibly fast tongue, I lost it, writhing and whimpering, pulling at his hair, trying to grip in vain, and finally settling for gouging at the top of his shoulders with my nails.
 

He slipped one big finger inside of me, groaning against my sensitive flesh as he pushed it in deep.
 
He started up a smooth rhythm with his finger while his tongue worked its magic.
   

My vision went dark, then light, as the most delicious orgasm washed over me in voluptuous waves.
 
It didn’t stop for long minutes.
 
Every time I thought it had stopped, another decadent tremor would wrack my body.
 

I fell apart and came back together again, my whole world thoroughly rocked.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

“You need longer hair,” was the first brilliant thing I managed to gasp, long moments after I’d finished.

He chuckled, nuzzling his face into my hip.
 
“Longer hair.
 
Got it.
 
I’ll add that to my to-do list.”

“You do that,” I ordered, trying with all of my being not to sound like I’d just had my world turned upside down.
 
“I need something to grip.”

“I need to go shower.
 
Can you stand up?
 
I don’t want you falling asleep in the pool on me.”
 

He helped me slip off the float, and I could stand, if only barely.
 

I didn’t bother putting my bikini back on, just collecting the pieces while Tristan got out of the pool and wrapped a towel around his hips.
 

He didn’t look at me again as he strode inside.
 

It was ridiculous, but I had the strong urge to beg him to hold me.
 

I dried off, and went to my bedroom to wait for my turn to shower.
 

I fell face down on the bed, feeling lethargic and fuzzy headed.
 
I thought I could have slept for days, after that out of this world orgasm.