Wednesday (7 page)

Still, I wasn’t going to let her
get to me.

“I’ll be right back, Lissa,” I tell
her.

“Don’t bother. It’ll be too late.
Just give me that one.” She reaches for the plate.

“Hang on. It will only take a
second.” I try to move away, but her grasp is tight.

“Just give it to me, Aria,” she
says, tugging on the plate.

I tighten my grip, so I can set it
down in front of her, but when I shift my fingers, Lissa lets go and the whole
thing comes flying back at my chest.

Covered in salad, I try to slide
most of it off my uniform and onto the plate. But the avocado in question, and
the eggs, tomato, and blue cheese are smeared across my boobs. Lissa and her
gang snicker.

Ugh, I forgot how much I could hate
Gulf Bay.

The worst part?

When I look up and Tristan is right
there staring back at me.

“Tris,” Lissa calls
over when she sees me. Damn, that girl has always been a little bitch. And even
though it gives me great pleasure to watch Aria squirm, I’m not at all pleased
that Lissa is the one to do it.

When I first moved back, Lissa and
I had a teensy thing. It was a moment of weakness, or loneliness, or
horniness.  But it’s over. At least on my end. Unfortunately, Lissa’s calls
haven’t stopped.

Aria continues to clean the mess
off herself and the table. Her face is crimson and I know this can’t be easy
for her.

“Movie tonight, babe?” Lissa asks
me. “There’s a new sci-fi that I think you’d like.”

I feel Aria’s eyes on me, but I
won’t let myself look at her.

I don’t want to make a scene, so I
simply say, “Sorry, I need to prepare for tomorrow. Some other time, maybe.”

“Sure,” she says, defeated. But
then stands up to give me a chaste peck on the lips.

This time I can’t avoid her and Aria
meets my eyes with a vicious glare. It’s both chilling and exciting. If she
hates me as much as she lets on, I doubt she cares who I’m hooking up with. Yes,
if I didn’t know better, I’d say Aria is jealous about Lissa.  A thought that makes
me feel like a fucking king.

I take a seat in the booth and as Aria
retreats back into the kitchen, I can’t help but worry. It’s become apparent
that there’s more than just lust still lingering between us and that isn’t a
good thing. Lust and sex I can handle, but any other emotions would only muddy
the waters.

One of the other servers meets me
at my table and I order a coffee and ham and cheese sandwich, secretly hoping
Aria will be the one to deliver it.

Not fucking wise, Green.

 I crave more of that flickering
energy between us. It’s quite possible I’m becoming addicted to it.

Aria comes out several minutes
later in a new shirt, a white one this time, and I’m enough of an ass to obsess
over the black bra I can now see under it. Not to mention the tips of her hard
nipples that strain against the fabric. In my mind, that part is because of me.

I adjust my too-tight pants and eat
my lunch, deciding that coming here was a bad idea. I can’t continue to torture
myself this way. It’s time to tell her my idea, and then let it go. If it
works? Great. If not, I’ll move on.

Eating slower than I usually do, I wait
to get her attention but she never comes by my table. I wonder why. 

The lunch crowd has dwindled and Aria
sneaks out the side door. I quickly pay my check and follow her to the alley
where she’s sitting on an overturned plastic bucket, reserved for the staff
smoking breaks. Aria doesn’t smoke, instead she leans her head against the
brick wall and closes her eyes.

“Sorry about what happened back there,”
I say.

Not bothering to open her eyes, she
responds, “No worries. Nice choice in girlfriends though, Tris. Bravo.”

“She’s not my girlfriend.”

“Sorry, fuck buddy, is it?” She opens
her eyes and stands up, as if preparing for a fight.

There goes that flickering again.

“She is not my fuck buddy,” I tell
her, carefully setting the stage and trying not to ogle her gorgeous tits in
that sexy-as-fuck black bra. “I’m not involved with anyone right now.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“I’m not saying that isn’t what
Lissa wants, but I can assure you, I don’t.”

“I just can’t believe you hang out
with people like that now, Tris. What happened to you?”

“Me?” I ask, feeling my own face
burn. “Look at what’s happened to you. Never would you have taken the shit
those girls were dishing out. Not the Aria I knew.”

 “That Aria is dead,” she says, each
word forced out. She looks small as she says them. 

It has me staggering back, a shot
to the gut.

She seems so defeated, so beaten
down as she stands in front of me with her slumped shoulders and dark circles
under her eyes. Yet she’s still the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever laid my eyes
on. I can’t fucking stand it. For the first time since high school, I can’t
push these thoughts out of my head. I can’t compartmentalize Aria. 

 I try to find the right words for
comfort, to take away whatever feeling that’s made her look this way. Before I
can, instinct takes over.

The heat burning in my gut bubbles
up. My movements are no longer my own as I press her up against the wall with
an insatiable need to cover, protect, heal.

I take her arm and press a wet kiss
inside of her elbow. Her salty taste stirs something in me and suddenly I’m ravenous,
nipping down her arm to her wrist. When I reach her fingers, I draw each one
into my mouth, savoring her flavor.

I want more.

“Tris,” she whispers, as her pupils
dilate.

My next actions are far from
romantic, or polite. I know that. I should pull back, move slower, or more
gently. It’s too late. Tugging on her uniform skirt, I bunch it up so I can
reach underneath.  This is better; I have more room to work my way up the
inside of her legs. More room to test her, to feel her. It’s almost too much, this
raw chemistry that wipes everything out of my head but her. At the same time,
it’s not enough.

 Aria trembles, but I don’t go any
further. Not yet. Instead, I move to the outside, toward her lush hips. I trace
her amazing curves, before wrapping my hands around them. Then I grip down and
hold her still in my hands. This action, however, is more for me.

Once my breathing settles, I use my
thumb to trace tiny circles on her sharp hip bone. She moans at my touch, so I hold
on tighter, almost rough. Without a second thought, I know it’s exactly what
she needs.

Christ, her body is on fire under
here. A delicious secret she’s been hiding. Her skin is smooth –
and fuck
…
wet. The insides of her thighs slick with her arousal. I bite down on my tongue
to keep my hand from shaking. I can’t fuck this up.

Aria’s not embarrassed, and that
makes her even more appealing. She holds my gaze as my fingers come in contact
with her soaking panties, and any last thoughts of apprehension dissolve.

“Just as I thought,” I say low in
her ear, pushing the piece of lace between her legs off to the side. “You’re
still alive, Aria. Alive and so fucking tempting.”

 Her folds are swollen and heated,
but they separate easy, allowing for more access. I take it, tracing her seam
with one long finger. Aria’s head falls back against the brick wall with a thud.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

Her lips part before she answers,
“Please don’t stop.”

No chance of that happening,
sweetheart.

I want to nip at that mouth, suck
on that juicy bottom lip, invade her with my tongue, but somehow that seems
even more intimate than what we’re doing right now and I’m afraid it would
break the spell.

So instead, my fingers continue to
explore.

My world spins out
of control. It’s like I’m in a dream sequence in a movie and Tristan is the
director. Guiding me. Showing me. I’ve given up all my power in this moment to
be in his capable hands. All I know is him. His rough, deep voice. His stormy
eyes. His woody, masculine scent. All I feel is the sensation of his touch, his
fingers slowly stroking up and down my sex, working their way deeper.

It’s paralyzing.

But though my body might be tight
and rigid on the outside as I stand propped between Tristan and the brick wall,
my insides have liquefied. And the voice in my head is screaming,
More!
More! More!

On some level, Tristan must know
because he continues his glorious assault on my body without waver. He knows
what he’s doing, knows how he’s making me feel, and I swear he’s getting off on
it.

In a moment of clarity, I test my
theory. I let my hands wander. Not wander so much as head straight for the
prize. I palm him over his pants, elated that he’s filled out here as well, and
I squeeze his thick length.

With both hands now, I do my own
exploring. Over his pants. Under his pants. He throbs in my hands. I slide one
hand down, and under, to cup him, while I use the other to stroke. Alternating
the pressure and speed almost brings him to his knees.

I get lost in his reactions. A
hiss. A grind against my hand. A nip to my neck.

I continue. Faster. Harder. Then, I’m
rewarded with the most guttural sound I’ve ever heard a man make. It vibrates
low in my core. And now it’s Tristan’s head that lobs backward.

It’s the strangest sensation. I’ve
despised this guy for so long – for everything he’s said and thought about me. For
hurting me. Yet being with him like this, giving and taking pleasure, it’s such
a potent drug. The power I feel in the moment is extraordinary, yet difficult
to fully understand.

That intense feeling of control
doesn’t last though. I’m sure that’s by his design. Because in the very next
moment, his thumb finds my clit and pushes down so hard I lose my breath for a
second or two.

Tris takes a step closer, shielding
me. In my mind, I know that anyone could see us out here. I just can’t get my
body to give a damn.

One slide of the finger deep inside
has me spreading my legs and pulling up to the balls of my feet.  

One turn of the wrist and I gasp.

Another finger. Another turn.

A pull low in my belly.

There is panting and thrusting
until… stars flash behind my eyelids.

And I know without a doubt. I am
his.

I am in complete
control of Aria. In this moment. In this place.  But who am I kidding? It’s
Aria who owns me.

As I make her come apart in my
hand, I use my other to continue its exploration of her body – snaking under
the shirt that was driving me insane in the diner. Inching up to the lacy bra
that holds her amazing tits, I graze a thumb over her nipple. I see them in my
mind, a memory from graduation night, an image I could never forget. Full and
heavy with deep rosy nipples that were so responsive.

They still are. So I pluck one and
then the other, driving a helpless moan from her with each electric contact. I
want to get them in my mouth, I want to taste, but I can’t expose her any more
than she already is. It will have to wait.  

I add another finger down below and
move deeper and faster until I garner a stinging bite to my neck.

Damn, what I wouldn’t do for a bed
so I could take my time, but we’re running out of that too quickly. Aria’s
nerves won’t last much longer. It’s time to push her over the edge.

I push my thumb on her clit and
continue to stroke her. Hard and fast.

Her heart beats swift and strong
under the breast I knead, probably more fiercely than I should. She doesn’t
seem to mind.  

My hands move faster.

Faster.

Until she clenches around my
fingers, holding them there.  Quickly, I move my other hand from her breast to
her mouth to stifle the cry I know is coming. She bites into my palm and I can feel
her silent scream.

The throbbing stops and I hold her
until she floats back down to Earth. Now
this
is something I really
don’t want to do – the holding. We don’t need any more emotions tied up in
this, but I have the strange feeling it’s been a long time since she’s had
release, so I let it go, cradling her until she calms.   

She looks up at me and those dreamy
eyes harden. Her face tightens and her chin tips up and out.

The mask is on and the new Aria
Prince is back.

“Now that was something.” I try to
lighten the mood.

“You are truly depraved,” she tells
me, straightening herself.

“Baby, you have no idea.”

She laughs then, a deep belly chuckle
that absolutely charms me. She’s still blissed out. Now is my chance.

“God, I can’t believe we did that.”
She shakes her head in awe, almost as if she’s proud of her walk on the wild
side.

“Here’s the thing.” I run the back
of my hand along her jaw. “I want to do it again.”

She slaps my arm. “You’re crazy. No
effing way. We are so lucky someone didn’t come out here.”

“I don’t mean here.”

“Where then?” she asks, curious.

I’ve got her wheels turning.

“The beach house.” My eyes don’t
stray from hers. “Wednesdays.”

A strange silence and uneasiness
consumes the space between us. The heat has fizzled and the raging emotions
have slid back under the surface.

“Let me get this straight. You want
me to be your fuck toy every Wednesday at the beach shack.”

“Well, I wouldn’t put it that way.
I’d call it an arrangement between two consenting adults. And it’s a quaint
cottage, by the way.”

She ignores my joke.

“Is that how they do it in L.A.?”
she asks. All her spunk has returned, furthering my resolve. I can give her
what she needs. 

“Think about it, Aria. We know each
other. It’s safe. And we both have Wednesdays free. Could you imagine what it’d
be like to get your rocks off like that every week?”