23
TRISTAN
I grabbed her hands and pulled them to my chest. Henry’s pulse was racing. “Where’d you go?”
She craned her neck to look past me.
“What is it?”
Pulling me into a corner, she wasn’t interested in me, but occupied with the scene around us. Suddenly, she grabbed my face with her hands, the edge of my mask biting into my cheek. Pulling me to her, she kissed me—her open mouth teasing my lips with her tongue. Pushing her into the wall behind us, I kissed her back. There was no one here who would care or even notice. It was the perfect place to kiss her—to have her.
She pulled away suddenly, looking over my shoulder once again.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“It’s Pierre. He’s here. And the American from the conglomerate is with him. Pierre is up to something, Tristan. What if he’s trying to find some weird loophole around the family rules?”
“What are you talking about? Pierre is here?”
She nodded, her eyes racing from corner to corner.
“Come,” I said, taking her hand in mine. It was my first time at the Paris location, but I knew Wood set all the venues up the same. The bottom floors were for the shows and general members. Those with the exclusive Key to the Rose were allowed into the private rooms on the upper levels.
As I climbed the next flight of stairs, Henry continued to look over her shoulder, pulling at my hand as if she was ready to run away. Once on the third floor, we came upon an area roped off with red velvet stanchions. One of Wood’s many meatheads in a tuxedo stood guard.
Showing him the ring on my left hand—an engraved gold insignia with the distinctive Sanctuary rose—he immediately lifted the rope, allowing us access to the private rooms.
“Where are we?” she asked.
“No man’s land.”
Pulling her hand to me, I kissed her cool fingers as I surveyed the open doors and empty suites. The final room was the largest, with an oversized bed and white linens. Stopping at the doorway, I ushered her in first, closing the door behind us.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
I slipped the mask from my face. “I brought you someplace safe where we could talk.”
“It looks like you brought me here to make love to me.”
Leaning in, I removed Henry’s mask. She batted her long lashes and pouted her red lips. It only made me want her more. There was something so carnal and raw about being in the Sanctuary that heightened my sexual senses—that heightened everyone’s sexuality. It was, in fact, what Wood had designed the club to do. With Usenko now most likely in the arms of a performer titillating his Russian-American junk, I wanted nothing more than to have Henry in my arms, naked and shaking while I rocked her world. But first, I needed to find out why she was here.
“Tell me what you’re doing here, Henry.” I whispered the words in her ear before sliding downward to nuzzle my face between her exposed breasts.
Grabbing me by the hair, she pulled my face from her chest to meet hers. “I’m trying to stop your brother from selling off Champagne Lebleu.”
I kissed her neck, ignoring her question. “And what if he does? What does it matter?”
She pushed me away and walked across the room, her hands on her hips. “It matters because even though you don’t care about your family, I do. I care about all of them. Lebleu isn’t only made up of people with your last name—or the name you refuse to use. It’s filled with people who’ve worked a lifetime to make the best champagne in the world—your champagne. Don’t you see? When your father dies, his vote will be split between you and Pierre. If you don’t give a shit, then Pierre will sell.”
My shoulders rose and fell with my heavy sigh. “My beautiful Henry.”
“Don’t think you can seduce me and everything will be okay. It won’t work, Tristan.”
I walked toward her, pulling at the black tie before unbuttoning the top of my white shirt. “Do you really think I would allow Pierre to take over Champagne Lebleu and dismantle it? Pierre isn’t going to do anything with the business. I signed legal documents with my father this morning before I left.”
She sat in a red velvet, provincial arm chair, the air leaving her lungs in a sigh. “Why couldn’t you have said all of this to me in Épernay?”
I cocked my head, steadily making my way to her. “Because I don’t make decisions based on what people tell me. I have to examine the facts, weigh them, look at a situation from all angles and then make a calculated choice.”
“But—”
“Why didn’t I explain that before?”
She nodded.
“Because, beautiful Henriette,” I said, leaning in to brush my thumb across her pouty red mouth. “You were one of the factors. I don’t like being swayed by my emotions.”
I took her hands in mine, bringing her to her feet. One by one, I placed her hands around my neck. She didn’t resist.
“How have I swayed your emotions?”
My fingers slid down her muscular back, taking the zipper of her dress with me. I enveloped her mouth over mine, kissing her slowly—deeply. She didn’t protest, leaning into my advance with a moan.
When she pulled away, she walked backwards to the bed and sat. “You haven’t answered me, Tristan.”
Slipping off my tux jacket, I undid the cuff links, placing them one at a time on a table filled with condoms near the bed. I kicked off the velvet loafers I wore with no socks and walked to her, the white silk dress hanging on her shoulders, just begging to be peeled away from her flawless body. “I take risks, Henry,” I murmured into her neck. “Calculated risks.” With a lick to her collarbone, I pushed her dress over her strong shoulders only to find it catching on her breasts where she’d taped it to her body. Stopping to smile at her, I removed the tape carefully on either side, kissing the skin beneath.
“I didn’t want my dress to come off.”
I licked each of her nipples, then kissed the inside of her breast. “It’s too late for that now, mon amour.”
I felt her chest rise and fall beneath my mouth. “Tell me why you really came tonight, Henry.”
Standing, I slid my hands under her bottom, lifting her to the center of the bed. One by one, I removed the trouser braces from my shoulders, allowing them to hang at my waist. Then crawling onto the bed, I hovered over her, waiting for a reply.
She blinked hard. Then placing her arms above her head in surrender, she looked away and then back to me. The smell of her milky skin wafted upward. She caused me to come undone—to think irrationally—like no other woman ever had. Maybe it was because she knew me—my past—maybe she knew me better than I knew myself. She saw through me and seemed to care in spite of it all. Whatever the reason, I knew Henry Tribolet wasn’t the kind of woman who was disposable. My father and I had discussed her into the wee hours of the night. Now faced with her alone again, I knew he was right. For the first time in my life, I was ready for something real.
“I came tonight,” she whispered. “Because…I was powerless to stay away from you.”
The smile on my lips had a mind of its own. I couldn’t contain my elation. I’d had women say all kinds of things to me in bed, but no one had ever confessed they couldn’t stay away. It was exactly how I felt about Henry. It was the reason I’d told my father I’d return. Not just for him—not just for Champagne Lebleu. But for her.
“What do you have to say about that?” she asked.
A breath away from her lips, I embraced her, rolling us both over to place her body upright. Straddling me. I took a full and measured breath, my hands running up and down her warm and heaving breasts.
“Tristan?”
“Henriette Tribolet.” Taking her hands, I threaded our fingers together and squeezed. “The power is all yours. I’m no longer a man, but a fool who doesn’t want to imagine a day in his life without you in it. Je veux passer toute ma vie avec toi. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”
She kissed our threaded fingers, then leaned in tenderly, brushing her mouth over mine before pulling away.
Then taking my shirt in her hands, she opened it—sending the studs and attached buttons flying across the room. Rolling her over, I sat up, losing the white starched shirt, then stood to unzip my pants.
“Wait,” she said coming to her feet, her white silk dress barely hanging on her hips. “Allow me.”
Dropping to her knees, she unhooked my tuxedo pants, pulling on the zipper at a slow and calculated pace. Looking up at me with her green and brown eyes, I dropped my head back, savoring the feeling of her hands moving inside my trousers. Stepping out, I pulled her from the floor, pushing what remained of her dress over her hips and to the ground. My body responded when I saw that under her silk dress, Henry was naked. Beautifully, wonderfully naked. Just like the pool house.
She hooked her thumbs into my black briefs, pushing them to the floor, freeing my straining flesh. Pulling her to me, I sealed my mouth over hers, melting at the feel of our tongues intertwined. “God, you’re beautiful.”
She smiled at me, her eyes sparkling in the dim lights. “So are you.”
My heart began to pound in my chest. I wasn’t one to be nervous in the bedroom. I’d had dozens of women in my lifetime, but none that meant so much to me as Henry. “I’ve never experienced anything quite like this. I…” I paused, finding my voice was cracking with emotion. “In the last few days, I’ve learned more about myself—who am I—what I want—my purpose. These are all things I never thought possible, Henry. But now that I’ve had a taste of it, I can’t—I have to—I have to have all of it. All of you.”
She stared through me, her eyes piercing my very soul. I felt as though she saw through every façade I’d ever put up. She didn’t just tear down my walls, she busted through them with a battering ram—never looking back and with zero regrets.
“What do you want from me, Tristan?”
“I want to keep on feeling this way. And I know I’m going to screw this up, because…well…I’m me. And I’ve never done relationships before.”
“So you’ve said.”
“But I want to try. I want to try with you.”
Her eyes welled up and a single tear fell from the corner of her eye. “I told you not to fall in love with me.”
“I guess I’m not a very good listener.”
She stood on her toes to reach my mouth. I leaned down to capture it in a long drugging kiss, walking her back to the bed where we collapsed in a heap.
Working my way down her body with my mouth and tongue, I could feel her eyes burning through me. She fisted my hair in her hands as I kissed and licked her taut stomach, paying special attention to her belly button. She giggled at my touch and I felt her tense under my bare hands. I wanted her so badly.
Catching her wrists, I pinned them to the mattress and I felt her shudder under me. She moaned my name when I made my intentions known to her, and it spurred me on all the more.
With a growl, I nestled my head between her legs, kissing the velvet softness of her. With firm and dominating flicks of my tongue, I listened to her cries of pleasure—her heels digging into the bed.
“Oh oui,” she moaned. When she switched back to French I knew she had moved out of her head and into her magnificent body.
A feral moan escaped my mouth and I hardened to the point of pain. Wrapping my lips around her sweet spot, she arched her back and grabbed my hair in approval as a cry erupted from her lips. Her body erupted in pure pleasure as I sucked and licked. I could feel her tense beneath me, her helplessness driving my need to be inside her.
She moaned my name, Tristan. Never before had it sounded so real—so genuine. To hear her say my name was like seeing God. She writhed beneath me, her body tensing violently, her legs shaking in my hands as I pushed them farther apart.
I didn’t stop, even when she begged. Even when my straining flesh began to ache so badly my toes started to curl.
She cried out again, her voice hoarse and breathy—imploring for mercy as her body twisted with pleasure. “Please Tristan. Please.”
“I love watching you,” I whispered on her skin.
Leaving her for only a moment. I reached for the bowl of condoms by the bed, opening the foil packet with my teeth.
Moving into her limp body, she pushed the hair from my face, pulling me to her for a long, deep kiss. I stretched myself over her, staring into the eyes that had captivated me from the moment she walked into my life. I was raw and full of a need that had never been filled.
“J’ai envie de toi,” she moaned, telling me she wanted me.
My body hardened, my chest tightened. I could hear my heart thrumming inside my head as I eased into her body, eliciting a gasp from her lips.
Burying myself inside her, I looked deep into her soul, my heart aching with the kind of singular oneness that was life-altering. Capturing her lips, I swept the inside of her sweet mouth with my tongue. “Christ. You feel so good,” I whispered.
She moved into me in perfect harmony, her hips lifting to meet my every thrust. Her fingers digging into my sides, I tossed my head back and ground even harder into her gorgeous body. When I felt her clutch the length of me, I buried myself so deeply each part of our bodies were intimately connected. Not only physically, but spiritually. She whimpered, her voice filling the empty room as she convulsed around me. I reveled in her pleasure. “Yes, baby. Yes.”
The buildup of my release was a runaway freight train I was powerless to stop. I tossed my head back in a cry of euphoria, holding her tightly against my body with one deep and final thrust. Pulling every ounce of pleasure from my body, I came, long and hard in a single release and savage groan. Collapsing on top of her, we breathed in unison. My body was covered in sweat and pulsed with energy. I could feel the tick of her heart, thrumming against my cheek.
Moving beside her, I brushed a stray hair from her flushed face and a tear from her eye. Without saying a word, we lay in each other’s arms. Exhausted. Sated. Loved.
A soft knock at the door woke me. Henry was still in my arms and I rolled out of bed, careful not to wake her, then covered her body completely with the white sheet from the bed linens we’d destroyed. Slipping on my trousers, I zipped them up and cracked the door. There was one reason and one reason only anyone would knock on a door in the Key to the Rose rooms—there had to be an emergency.
“Que veux-tu?” I asked what he wanted in a whisper.
One of Wood’s meatheads stood at the door, a puzzled look was plastered across his face. “Sorry to disturb you, sir,” he said in French. “There’s been an emergency.”
I looked behind me at Henry sleeping like a baby. Taking my shoes and shirt from the floor, I tip-toed out, doing my best not to wake the beauty in the bed. Once outside, I closed the door without making a sound. Slipping on my shoes and shirt, I looked to the guard, staring into his blank expression. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know.” He offered me a bottle of water as if it would help matters.
I shook my head in disgust and followed him. “This better be fucking good.”