Layers Deep (18 page)

I unzipped the
side of my red dress and lowered it to the floor, slowly, unveiling
the new silky black lingerie that didn’t leave much to the
imagination. The tent in his pants rose higher. Tristan adjusted
the crotch of his dress pants as if they were getting too tight,
and beckoned me in with his gaze.

“You look
fucking beautiful,” he said.

“Then come
over here and fuck me.” I stepped closer.

His index
finger wiggled from side to side, stopping me from moving forward.
I obliged to the commanding gesture. It was as if he wanted to
appreciate the full view of me, standing half-naked in the middle
of his living room.

“Touch
yourself,” he ordered.

I inhaled
sharply, but couldn’t deny the damp desire increasing in my
see-through panties. At that point I was so aroused by his request,
the new look, and authoritative tone, I’d do anything he asked of
me. And every single sensitive part of my body was begging to be
touched. I lifted my hands and cupped my breasts, squeezing them a
little, teasing him in the process.

“Your pussy,”
he growled.

I knew that’s
what he’d meant, but seeing him fire up like that, when I got his
instructions wrong, drove me mad. Sliding my hand down my tummy, I
watched his reaction shift with every inch I came closer to my
panties. Uneasy excitement and apprehension rolled through me. He
took a deep breath in, and then his lungs held still.

I touched the
wetness of my folds, parting the heated flesh.

He released
his breath.

I closed my
eyes, moaning – partly for him, and partly because it felt so good
to touch myself in front of someone else. I’d never done that
before. When I opened my eyes, his hand was on his crotch stroking
through the fabric of his stretched pants. My brows rose, and as if
listening to my command, he pulled on his zipper, letting his
erection spring free. He wasn’t wearing any underwear, and he slid
his slacks down to his thighs, which I found very sexy. A drop of
moisture glistened at the tip of his cap and I licked my lips. His
cock flexed at that gesture and he gripped his shaft in his palm.
As much as I wanted his thickness between my lips, sliding along my
flesh and stretching me, I couldn't deny this was too arousing to
stop.

A clasp of
desire tightened in my belly. Tristan stroked himself up and down
while I played with my swollen folds. My fingers drew the hot,
slippery moisture higher to my clit. The touch was painfully
pleasing and I couldn’t help but flick it and tease it, circling
faster and faster. My breaths shortened, their loudness seeming
that of someone else. Tristan's rhythm increased and I was nearing
the point of no return rapidly. With my eyes wide open I followed
his strokes, bending forward. My other hand cupped my left breast
and I pinched the nipple the way Tristan would have. The swelling
grew between my fingers as I masturbated at his request and to my
need. So close...

“Stop,” he
hushed, lowering himself to the floor.

I froze,
pulling my hand away from my pussy. The ache of an oncoming orgasm
roamed through my body. It almost hurt to stop. My palm twitched to
return to the mound, but I obeyed Tristan. I knew he wouldn’t
disappoint me, and the reward of him finishing me off was greater
than what I would have experienced in a few seconds. It would only
take one touch or one lick from him and I’d be done, relishing in
my orgasm.

Tristan
crawled on his knees toward me, still with his pants halfway down
his legs. I stood still. He cupped my ass and lowered his head to
my panties, inhaling my scent.

“You smell
fucking delicious.” He pulled his tongue over the fabric, biting a
little, and then took another deep inhale. He may as well have
licked me up and down my slit. I pressed harder into him, wanting
just one more touch, but he looked up at me from below.

I was sure the
smell of my excitement would get the wolves howling on the other
side of the city. I could not only feel the wetness of my arousal
but also smell it, mingling with the smell of sweat and scotch and
pure lust.

His fingers
kneaded my ass, digging in closer to the center. Under the guiding
pressure of his hands, I lowered to my knees. The touch of his soft
hands revived my body. He slid his palms up along my back and
unclasped my bra, freeing my breasts. They spilled to the sides and
he prized them in his hands, playing with their ample weight before
his mouth took one of my nipples in. His tongue drew around the
hardened peak, flicking it once, then again. The sharper pain of
his teeth gripping me shot through me, centering deep between my
legs. As the sensation traveled down my chest and belly, it turned
from a zap to a trickle, intensifying in my panties, reviving the
cooling bliss I’d almost experienced. He bit into me once more and
then pulled the nipple higher before releasing it.

I moaned. The
pleasure of his concentrated teases spread like a current, shocking
me right in the center of my sensitive triangle, over and over
again. When his fingers traced my hip and drew up my inner thigh, I
parted my legs just a bit and couldn’t breathe, waiting for him to
just touch me there. I could already feel I’d explode at his first
touch. And when he tugged the elastic of my panties to the side,
the room spun.

“Gosh, you’re
so wet,” he breathed into my neck. A hint of his scotch filled me
at the same time his finger slid inside me. I squeezed around him
like I didn’t want to let go, wishing for his thickness there
instead, and lowered my hands to remove my panties.

“These stay
on.” He grabbed my hand and kissed my finger.

For
now,
I thought.

Tristan really
did have a fetish for black lingerie, didn't he?

My arms
wrapped around his neck. I slid his white shirt off his body and
weaved my fingers into his hair, pressing my naked front to his
chest. His palms supported my weight against my spine as he lowered
me to the plush carpet with ease, as if I were a rag doll. My back
drowned in the soft fibers. The lights were dimmed. Soothing music
played on the radio. Supporting himself on his elbows, his lips
grazed my earlobe and my jaw line as he hovered above my mouth.

“Get these
off. I need you inside me, please.” I yanked his jeans off with my
feet, opening myself perfectly for him. And if it weren’t for my
drenched panties, he’d see my welcoming opening, all moist and
ready, waiting for him.

Tristan
growled. His mouth lowered to my hip and he gripped the panties in
his teeth, removing them with one swift pull. I was forced to place
my legs together, but as soon as the lace was off, I planted my
soles on the carpet, spreading my knees apart. He hovered over my
body and slid inside me without a word or a groan, keeping his new
blue gaze fixed on me. But the depth of his dark eyes shone through
with desire, even with the light contacts.

He pushed in
all the way and held still for a moment before pulling out, as if
he were testing new waters.

“I don’t even
recognize you.” His voice deepened and took an intimate hush.

“I don’t
recognize me either.” Which was true. Since the day I met Tristan,
I’d wanted to be the woman he needed. The one he wanted for both
his job and at his side, in his bed. I wanted him to need and want
only me, to protect me, and I’d do anything to please him.

And with his
new hair, it felt like I was fucking a complete stranger whom I’d
known for years.

Tristan held
my hips steady. He cocked his head to the side, increasing the
tantalizing pace. The merciless friction between us and the
rhythmic rocking rubbed my clit. I arched my back, tilting my
pelvis, pressing hard against him, feeling my tip move back and
forth. Grinding against him my full arousal returned in
seconds.

I grasped his
bicep and my nails dug into his skin. Tristan lunged into me, his
sweat dripping off his forehead down on my chest. He gritted his
teeth. The exquisite stretch of him inside me, plunging in as if
his life depended on getting in deeper, fogged my senses. Nothing
around us mattered, just me and him, our flesh connecting, rubbing
and teasing. His tip hit that perfect spot, jutting it harder on
each entry. The slap of flesh against flesh, our heavy breathing,
and his smell of whisky were too much as I released my scream at
the same time he stilled inside me, filling me with his seed.

We breathed as
if we had both run a marathon, ten times. Tristan fell down at my
side and rolled onto his back. Our loud exhales and the innocuous
click of the fridge making more ice were the only sounds.

“You’re
unbelievable.”

“And if you
think flattery will get you another round, you’re right.” I turned
to my side, propping myself on my elbow, wondering where I found
the strength to do so. But admiring Tristan Cross from above was
worth the effort.

“I’m serious,
Allie. You’re like my own personal—”

“—hooker,” I
giggled.

“Lover. A
beautiful lover made just for me.”

He’d never
used the ‘L’ word around me before. Was I reading too much into
this? After all, we were lovers, but he was also my employer. I
still wasn’t sure whether Tristan had called me his girlfriend in
front of Emma for convenience. It was much easier to say
‘girlfriend’ in front of a thirteen-year-old than ‘lover’ or
‘mistress I like to fuck.’ Yet, if he thought of me as both, what
did that mean? Then there was the information Julian had shared
with me. Kendra was Tristan’s first, and even if he claimed they
weren’t together, my stomach tightened with jealousy when I thought
about the two of them; even if their relationship had passed.

I reached up,
touching the white scar above his heart. He stilled as if I’d
burned him, took away my hand from his chest, and kissed it,
lowering it to the side. He propped his body up on his elbow,
facing me.

“I have to
tell you something,” we both said at the same time.

“You first.”
We said it again.

I bit my lip,
waiting.

“Kendra
stabbed me.” He covered my hand with his.

“I know.”

“Emma?”

“No,
Julian.”

He narrowed
his brows. “I didn’t expect that.”

“Do you still
love her?”

“I don’t think
so. I care for her. I always will. She needs more help than what I
can give. I’ve forgiven her a long time ago, but I cannot forget
she almost killed me.”

The image of
Tristan lying on the floor, bleeding from his heart, made my own
chest ache.

“Would you
ever let someone else care for her as deeply?”

“You mean let
them love her? I think so. I feel more like a brother to her than
an ex. I want her healthy, and most of all, I don’t want her to
hurt anyone else. I need her to be the healthy girl I knew before I
can let her go.”

“What’s going
on between us?” I asked.

“I’m not sure,
but I do like it, especially the new hair and the contacts. It’s
like fucking someone else.”

“I don’t want
you to be fucking someone else.”

“Not like
that.” He shook his head, and sat up on top of my hips, forcing me
to roll onto my back. His manhood rested at the side of his thigh,
but I could already see it getting harder. “I love feeling your
body. I love how the lace feels against your skin. You become a
different woman in my arms. A vulnerable woman I love to please,
but I also love the strong woman you are every day.”

“Strong, you
say?” I used all the muscles in my abs to pull myself up from
underneath him and wrapped my arms around his neck.

Straddling
him, I stared into those foreign eyes, wondering what other secrets
Tristan had buried. Kendra was an ex; he’d felt guilty she was
kidnapped; and when talking about his job, he appeared a completely
different man than the one in front of me now and when we were at
his house. There I’d felt like part of the family, like the job I
was about to perform didn’t stand in the way of us becoming more
than convenient fucks. Was that what I wanted? Wasn’t it too soon
for me to think about Tristan beyond the scope of our business
partnership? I couldn’t even call what we had a ‘professional’
relationship because professionals shouldn’t get as close as we
had.

And what would
happen once we rescued Kendra? What was my next task, and would it
involve Tristan? My head hurt from all the questions.

“What’s the
matter?” He smoothed the back of his hand along my cheek.

“I need to see
Laura.”

“Your
roommate?”

“Yes, I just
need my friend.”

“We can’t be
seen this way on the outside, but we can invite her to dinner at my
friend’s restaurant. I promise to give you privacy.”

“You’d do
that?”

“Of course I
would. A happy mind is a clear mind. And I need you focused.
Whatever is going on in that head of yours needs to be fixed.”

“Okay.” I
slammed my lips to his and Tristan responded with his own fevered
mouth. I appreciated that Tristan respected my friendship with
Laura, as well as my need for privacy.

If I’d thought
it would be this easy to see my friend, I would have mentioned it
sooner. Except now, I wasn’t sure how I’d explain my new look and
Tristan Cross at my side to the inquisitive Laura. But if there was
anyone who could sort out my feelings, it was her.

I’d never
thought you could dine out and only be seen by a handful of people.
From the elevator down to the parking garage to another garage and
yet another elevator, we hadn’t stepped outside for a breath of
fresh air once. And now we descended a circular flight of stone
stairs that belonged in a twelfth century castle. The clicking of
my heels echoed from under my soles only to be lost in the long
corridor ahead. The smell of earth and mud filled the air. Cringing
away from the walls, I waited for a centipede or a spider to crawl
down, but the space was cleaner than expected for an underground
dungeon.