Chasing Love's Wings (3 page)

“About three hours.” He kisses me gently on the lips. The kiss quickly turns urgent
and needy. I can’t help my body’s response to his lips on mine. My back arches and
I feel his erection grow stronger and harder as he slowly moves in and out of me.
 

A soft breathy moan escapes my lips, and his kisses grow more urgent and his pace
increases. I feel myself building toward that cliff we’ve been dancing on every day
for over a month. My hand slides down his chest and I feel the dermal piercings that
create the eyes of his dragon.
 

He’s propped himself up on his left elbow, and his right hand glides feather-soft
over my hip to my stomach, tracing light patterns until his fingers gently graze my
breast. Both my nipples harden in response to the involuntary shiver his touch has
caused across my heated skin, and I feel his fingers graze one pierced nipple, then
the other. They are hard as diamonds, straining against the stainless steel balls
holding the barbells in place.
 

I moan again, and his pace increases as my body locks down and the climax I’ve been
trying to avoid washes over me in a warm rush of fire. Tristan increases his pace
to a fever pitch, pushing my orgasm to limits I’ve come to love. “I love you,” I hear
him whisper in my ear as I come floating down. I feel the muscles of my sex spasm,
and he thrusts hard, pouring himself into me.
 

I open my eyes to see the strained look of orgasm on his face and I whisper, “I love
you.”

Once we finally settle again from our orgasms, Tristan doesn’t roll off me. Which
is fine. I love having him so close to me, and it’s breaking my heart that he is leaving
so soon. I can’t bear to look at the clock.
 

He is only going to be gone for a couple of days, but we haven’t spent more than a
couple of hours apart since we met in Tarah a month ago.
 

Ever since that Friday night in the hotel bar, everything in my life has changed.
I met the man of my dreams — literally — and I fell in love with him. Hard. Okay,
I was probably already in love with him before I met him, but the emotions were superficial,
as I didn’t actually know him for who he is. I know him better now, though I’m not
convinced I know everything there is to know about Tristan Michaels. I’m determined
to find out anything and everything about him.
 

“I don’t want you to go,” I say softly, and I feel him stiffen, as if I’ve woken him
up, but I know he wasn’t sleeping because the hand playing with a stray strand of
my hair hasn’t stopped moving.
 

“I told you to come with me,” he says. It’s the same argument we’ve been having for
the last twenty-four hours.
 

“I know but I need to take care of some things here. We’ve only been home for a few
days.” He slides off of me, but it’s not a rejection; he pulls me close to his side.
 

“I know, and I’ll only be gone until Friday. Then I’ll come back and we can pick up
where we leave off.” He kisses my shoulder and his thumb begins to move circles across
my stomach, something he tends to do when he is thinking about something.
 

After we left Tarah, we went to New York, where we spent a few days roaming around
the city. It wasn’t as much fun as I’d hoped it would be.

After Tristan’s premiere, we were followed nearly everywhere we went. I was impressed
that it only took the media eight hours to figure out exactly who I am. Then of course
the speculations about he and I not really being together started to soar through
the roof. It was a good publicity stunt, letting the girls swoon a little longer over
the fact that their beloved Tristan might still be single.
 

The tabloids would read things like,
She’s just his PR rep
, etcetera. It didn’t bother me any, but Tristan was a little miffed that they were
going down that path. It was clear to me that he really wanted them to run away with
us being together.
 

I tried to tell him that it didn’t matter to me at all, even played the ‘It’s good
publicity’ card, but he wasn’t buying it. I told him that
I
knew he was with me and I was with him, and that nothing like that should matter.
Over the next day or two he calmed down dramatically about it. That was until we were
walking of The Electric Room. Tristan pushed me up against the door of our limo, kissing
me feverishly, right in front of no less than a dozen cameras. After that, the speculative
headlines stopped and the love stories started. The only reason I knew about any of
this going on was because Trinity - the PR manager for Bold, my company - demanded
that I take over as his rep. I hadn’t seen a problem with it, except for the fact
that I’m now responsible for all the things that are said about the man I love.
 

He nuzzles closer to me and I snuggle into him, content to lie here, but as I move,
the insatiable man that he is, it doesn’t go unnoticed. We’ve been in bed all day
— literally, as I know it’s nearly four in the afternoon — and Tristan has been giving
me his undivided attention, from head to toe and back again.
 

I’m truly enjoying it. I’m sure he’s trying to wear himself out so that he can survive
the next few days without me, and I am perfectly okay with that.
 

I use my free hand to bring his chin up. He immediately knows what I’m trying to do
and he doesn’t disappoint me. Our lips meet once again, and he doesn’t stop kissing
me over and over.
 

******

Tristan

******

Leaving Cami here in Phoenix is the absolute last thing I want to do, but I completely
understand why she wants to stay. She hasn’t been home in what feels like forever,
and her new condo needs some attention. When she asked me to come stay with her in
Phoenix, I didn’t hesitate. I want to be near her all the time, and I can’t get enough
of this beautiful woman whose tongue is dancing with mine.
 

After our last go-round not twenty minutes ago, I thought for sure I was done, but
that is not the case, not today. It kills me to have to leave her after we’ve spent
all of this time together. But Vincent needs me in L.A. Both Cami and I did our best
to convince Vinnie that my traveling there wasn’t necessary, that we could handle
everything from here, but he wasn’t having it. Since that conversation, I’ve had it
stuck in the back of my mind that there is a reason he’s trying to pull me away from
here, but I can’t for the life of me begin to imagine why.
 

Regardless, I will be back on Friday, no matter what. But if I have anything to say
about it, I will be back Thursday night to surprise her.
 

I’m mulling all this over when Cami pushes me onto my back and I feel the scalding-hot
wetness of our all-day lovemaking brush across my erection, and he stirs awake once
more. I watch Cami give me her all-knowing smile, knowing full well that she has this
effect on me, no matter what the circumstances are.
 

She begins to flick her hips across my hardness and my eyes roll back in my head.
I can feel her clit rubbing along each of the piercings along my cock, and it makes
me shiver with excitement. The next thing I know, in one quick flick of her hips,
I’m buried deep inside her. I watch as the sensations register on her, causing her
eyes to roll up and her head to fall back. Her back arches, thrusting her beautiful
tits in my face. I take that as my cue, cupping them in my hands, and my thumbs slowly
glide over her nipples. She starts coming unglued in only a matter of seconds and
I love to watch the transition.
 

Cami continues to glide her slick wetness up and down my shaft. I can feel when her
muscles spasm, but she hasn’t come, not yet. One of the many things I love about being
inside Cami is that, once she starts, there is no stopping her from achieving orgasm
after orgasm, and it makes me hungry to make her come undone whenever possible.
 

Her hips increase their tempo and the muscles of her pussy begin clamping and releasing
me. Her orgasm is crushing her ability to maintain her pace and she begins to slow,
losing her rhythm. I know it’s time for me to help her out. She raises her hips, as
if reading my mind, and I begin pounding up into her, hard and fast. Her fingers dig
into my stomach as she starts to come. I squeeze her nipples between my thumb and
forefinger, hard. She screams out my name.
 

Hearing my name across her lips is my undoing, and I explode once again inside her.

An hour and half later we’ve finally managed to untangle ourselves from the sheets
and make it to the shower. Our only mistake is showering together; it’s counterproductive
when I take her one more time, from behind, while we both watch in the vanity mirror.
 

We’ve finally managed to make it into her car, and she is driving me to the airport.
In her R8, mind you. This is such a beautiful car, and very fitting for Cami.
 

This is the first time since coming here two days ago that we’ve even considered venturing
out of the house and, ironically, it is to take me back to Los Angeles. Besides Cami,
the other nice thing about Phoenix is that celebrities live here, but there are hardly
enough paparazzi to really make a difference. Especially at the airport. But even
knowing that, neither one of us has wanted to take the chance and venture out. So
far, her condo is a secret, and it would be nice to keep it that way...for a little
while longer, at least.
 

“Call me when you land?” she asks me as we pull off of Forty-fourth Street and into
the airport.
 

“Of course,” I say as she squeezes my hand. We’ve both been quiet in the car — well,
ever since we got dressed — neither one of us wanting to discuss the inevitable goodbyes
we’re going to face in a few short minutes.
 

“I can come in with you...”
 

“No need, love. I’ll be fine.”
 

She is staring straight ahead, watching the traffic around us. It’s Tuesday, early
evening, and traffic is rather light, but I can see that she won’t look at me. I look
over at her. She knows that I’m watching, but she won’t turn her head. It doesn’t
take but a moment for me to figure out why. I watch as a single, fat tear streaks
down her cheek.
 

I release her hand and wipe it away. She tries to smile, but it doesn’t go like she
hoped it would. “I’m sorry.”
 

“Stop.” I can hear the emotion in my own voice. I don’t want to leave, now or ever.
But we both knew at some point it was going to have to happen. “I’ll be home on Friday
and we will have nothing in our way for what, six weeks? Before Montana.” We haven’t
talked about Montana, but I’m hoping she will be coming with me. I’m going to be there
for three weeks, with little time for a break. If less than three days is like this,
three weeks will surely kill me.
 

“I know, it’s just—”
 

I wipe another tear from her eye and we drive out of the setting sun and into the
drop-off area for terminal four. It’s another few seconds and she is pulling over
to the curb to let me out. I take a quick scan of the terminal; it doesn’t look like
anyone is here to snap my photo this time. Thank stars.
 

She pulls the e-brake and we both reach hesitantly for the handles of our doors; eventually
we open them and climb out. When I come around the front of the car, Cami is opening
the trunk to pull out my bag. I’ve left nearly everything I own at her place, at her
request. “So you’ll come back,” she said last night. There was never a doubt in my
mind that I would come back, but I can understand her logic. We’ve spent so much time
together; thinking rationally hasn’t been our strongest ally these last few weeks.
She’s afraid that my getting away from her will clear my head. But I know that the
exact opposite is what’s true. I know I am going to miss her like crazy, and I know
that when I come back to her, it will be a sweet reunion.
 

She closes the trunk and sits gingerly against the front of the car. “Come ’ere, you,”
I say, and she slides effortlessly in between my legs and I wrap my arms around her,
kissing the top of her forehead. A part of me wants to tell her she’s being irrational
with her reaction and that I’ll be back in a couple of days, but I can’t because this
is killing me too. “I love you,” I say into her hair, and she squeezes harder. I can
feel a small wet spot forming on my shirt and I don’t care. I hold her tighter to
me, and I don’t want to let go but I have to.
 

“I love you too,” she says, standing, then stepping away from me, slow and hesitant,
back toward her side of the car. I take her hands and I kiss each one as I slowly
step away onto the curb. She doesn’t let go of my hands until I turn and one no longer
touches hers, and then I take a slow, painful step forward, and another, before our
hands fall away from each other. I turn back and I can see the tears in her eyes,
which causes my own eyes to water. I give her a small smile and she smiles in return.
I slide past the automatic doors and into the terminal. Turning back one last time,
I see her wave to me and I wave back.
 

I round a corner inside and she disappears from my line of sight. I want to run back,
climb into her car and go back to her house, but I press on — up the escalator then
on to security. Before I know it, my flight is called and I’m on my way to Los Angeles.

TWO

******

Cami

******

I wipe the tears away from my eyes and climb back into my car. “This is so stupid,
why am I so upset? He’ll be back on Friday.” I keep trying to talk myself into putting
the car into first. Then finally I see a clearing in the traffic; without thinking,
I throw the car into first and peel out.