chapter 15
TRISTAN MADE MY FAVORITE meal, the steak one I told him about at the restaurant that day. He even made a perfect mushroom-pepper sauce. Seriously, where did this man come from?
“It’s better than the one I ate that day,” I tell him, moaning as the soft beef hits my tongue. “I swear there’s nothing you can’t do, Tristan.”
“Braid my hair,” Laura suggests, taking a bite of one of her fries. “Or let me talk to boys without losing his temper.”
“Let us eat junk food,” Logan offers, grinning at his dad. “Or sing. He can’t sing at all.”
I can’t stop laughing as his kids continue to bring his flaws to light, or at least, his flaws in their eyes.
“Thanks, guys,” Tristan tells them, shaking his head. He turns to me and adds, “See what you started?”
“I didn’t start anything,” I deny, winking at the kids. “I’m just sitting here, enjoying this delicious meal and minding my own business.”
“You mind your own business as much as Yvonne and Hunter do.” He smirks, looking down at my plate as I all but destroy everything on it. “Do you want another steak?”
I shake my head, eyes going wide. “No, thank you. It was amazing though. If I eat anything else I think I’ll explode.”
We all finish up dinner, and Tristan gets the kids’ bedtime routine sorted while I clean up the kitchen, then hang out in front of the TV. Both kids come to say good night and give me a hug, which I find really sweet. As soon as they’re both fast asleep, the atmosphere instantly changes. I turn off the TV, and with my glass in hand, move toward his bedroom without checking to see if he follows.
He does, of course, and I strip down to my bra and panties and lie back on his huge bed, my eyes telling him that I’m in the mood to play.
He strips off his T-shirt, and I allow myself to take my time exploring his muscular body with my eyes. He has a perfect build. Toned chest and his abs are perfectly defined. I want nothing more than to trace them with my tongue. He looks younger than his thirty-one years, more fit than even I had expected. Last night was surprising, exciting, and mind-blowing, but I never got to really take my time and explore every inch of him.
Now’s my chance.
My gaze locks on his deep V indentures and then to his cock, which is still covered by basketball shorts. He truly is an incredible man. He could be on the cover of a fucking magazine if he wanted to, but instead he has a high-power career and completely dominates in his field. On top of that, he’s also an amazing father and completely dotes on his two children. He should be so proud of himself.
He removes his shorts next, leaving him completely naked before me.
“Do you know how sexy you are?” I ask him, shaking my head. “It’s hard to believe you’re real.”
I put my glass down on the side table and slide my feet off the bed. Standing in front of him, I place a kiss on the center of his smooth chest and start to kiss down his abs, tracing the ridges with my tongue, then following them with my fingers. Sitting back on the bed, I take his cock in my hands and glance up at him, locking eyes as I take him into my mouth. He steps back from me, my hands dropping.
“Lay back,” he demands, stroking his own cock in front of me. I force myself to look away and do as he says.
“Good girl,” he praises. “Now spread those thighs for me.”
I spread my thighs and lift my head to see his expression. He’s looking in between my legs, as if mesmerized, kind of like how I was only moments ago. I decide to tease him how he did me, and reach between my legs and start to play with myself, stroking my clit and then sliding a finger inside.
“Fuck,” he growls, and begins to stroke himself faster, then closes the space between us, gently pushing my hands away and replacing them with his mouth and tongue.
I gasp, spreading my thighs even further, lifting my head to watch him as he pleasures me. He rolls me over onto my stomach and lifts my hips up so I’m all on fours, licking me from behind for a few moments before sliding inside me in one smooth thrust. I bite down on his bedsheets and push back against him while he starts to move inside me, harder, faster. Then he starts to play with my clit, driving me crazy with need. I could fuck him forever and never tire of it. I don’t think I’ve ever been so comfortable with a man so soon. He pulls out of me, lays his head back on the bed in between my thighs and pulls my hips down so I’m sitting on his face. His index finger lazily slides over my back entrance, while his tongue works his magic.
It feels so good, and it’s not long until he makes me come, once, twice, and then a third time with him inside of me.
Tristan Channing is the definition of a gentleman in the streets and a freak in the sheets.
WHEN YVONNE STEPS INTO my office, an odd expression on her face, I get a bad feeling.
“What’s wrong?” I ask her, standing up. Is this about Tristan? Maybe she’s upset to see him with another woman, even if it’s just gossip and hearsay at this point. I don’t want Yvonne to hate me—she’s been kind to me since the first day I walked in here. Tristan and I have been together for a few weeks now, and I guess it would make sense that everyone knows the truth.
“There’s a man here to see Tristan,” she says, frowning. “He’s not in, but I think we need to call him in.”
“What does the man want?” I ask her, wondering if it’s some type of emergency.
She shifts on her feet but doesn’t give me an answer. “Can you call him and tell him?”
I nod.
“I’ll tell the gentleman to wait,” she says, exiting the room swiftly.
“Okay,” I say, wondering what the hell this could all be about. I pick up my cell phone and call him.
“Was just thinking about you, beautiful” is the first thing he says into the line. “I was thinking I could take you out on a proper date tonight. Anne will stay back with the kids. How does dinner and a movie sound?”
“It sounds perfect, but, Tristan, where are you right now? Can you come into the office?” I ask, trying to keep my tone even to not freak him out. I don’t even know what this is about, and I don’t know how serious of an issue it is.
“I’m about ten minutes away, was just going to the prison,” he tells me, his tone turning worried. “I can come there now. Is everything okay?”
“I don’t know,” I admit, taking a deep breath. “Yvonne just said there’s a man here to see you and that you should come.”
He’s quiet for a few seconds, but then says, “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”
We hang up, and I can’t help but step to the reception desk to see what this man looks like.
“He’s on his way, Yvonne,” I let her know, then sneak a glance at him.
He looks to be in his early thirties, with blond hair and green eyes. He’s fit, he obviously takes care of himself, and he’s well dressed too, wearing slacks and a shirt.
Just who is this man?
Without any other excuse to stick around, I walk back to my office and sit down, tapping my foot on the floor, hoping that this isn’t something that will upset Tristan. Is this man a client of his? What else could it be? What feels like hours later but is only about twenty minutes, Tristan returns. He comes into my office and closes the door behind him.
“Is everything okay?” I ask him, standing up and rushing over to him. “What was it?”
“I don’t know yet,” he says, pulling me into his embrace. “I told him to wait for me in my office, I just wanted to see you first.”
His lips are then on mine in a gentle yet hungry kiss, one that distracts me a little from the current situation. When he pulls away, I’m left feeling dizzy.
“I’ll be back,” he murmurs, leaving the room.
I sit down and try to get some work done. It’s hard though, when I have no idea what’s going on in the other room.
I have no idea what this could be.