BetweenTwoBillionairesCompleteStripped (7 page)

“
What
are you used to?”

I think of every
lame date I've ever been on. “Going to the movies. Maybe going
for fast food afterward.” I look down and bite my bottom lip,
realizing how immature that must sound to him.

“
How
old are you?” It's an unexpected question, and one that makes
me exceptionally uneasy.

“
How
old do you think I am?”

He sets his fork
down and looks straight at me. “Let's not play this game. I'm
twenty-four. How old are you? If you're underage, I won't get mad. I
just need to know, for safety's sake.”

I push a strand of
hair behind my ear, fearing rejection. “I'm eighteen. I just
turned eighteen in May.”

He sighs, and I
can't tell if it's in relief or disappointment. “Let me see
your ID.”

“
My
ID?” I parrot. He doesn't trust me. That kind of hurts.

Reluctantly, I reach
into my purse to fish out my driver's license and hand it across the
table to him. He reads my birthday carefully, then his eyes sweep
over the rest of the ID. I hope he's not trying to memorize my
address. Maybe letting him see it was a bad idea.

“
You
are definitely eighteen.” He hands it back to me, sounding
pleased.

“
I
wouldn't lie.” I frown before putting it back in my purse.

“
Apologies.
I just have a lot to lose. I hope you understand.”

“
I
do, but you still need to learn to trust people more.” I put my
ID back in my purse and return my attention to him.

“
There
are some things it's more important to know the truth about than
others. You'd understand if you were in my position,” his tone
takes on an arrogant lilt. This is getting awkward. We should
probably just drop the subject.

“
You're
an amazing cook. I'm so full.” I lean back in the chair,
rubbing my tummy. Immediately, I feel like a slob for it. It's
totally inappropriate, but at least he doesn't seem offended.

“
You
eat like a bird,” Tristan comments, looking at my plate.

“
You
gave me such big portions. I ate about half,” I insist.

“
If
you say so.”

Now it's time for me
to come up with my exit strategy. It was a nice dinner, but I should
be getting home. I have work in the morning.

Tristan takes a few
more bites of his lasagna, then he stands and picks up our plates to
walk them to the kitchen. Instead of watching him, I grab my purse
off the back of the chair, pulling the strap over my shoulder in
preparation to make a speedy escape. When he returns to me, I stand,
taking a deep breath as I look at him.

“
Ready
to leave already? Was my cooking that disappointing? You haven't even
touched your wine.” He gestures to my glass, still sitting
unmoved on the table.

“
I
don't like to drink in front of strangers.” I readjust my
purse, feeling a bit guilty. For all that I know, that was an
expensive bottle of wine he poured.

“
But
I'm not a stranger.” His expression is deadpan.

“
I
still don't know you well enough to drink around you.”

“
Stay
and get to know me.” The intense look returns. He's managed to
keep it at bay for most of the night. It's definitely there now
though, making me feel vulnerable.

“
I
have work tomorrow.” I avert my eyes.

“
What
time?” He shifts his weight.

The truth is that I
don't work until noon, but I need an excuse to leave. While I enjoy
being around him, I'm still wary. Maybe I'm just being stupid. He's
shown me nothing but kindness.

“
I
suppose I could stay a little longer,” I relent, silently
cursing myself for it.

“
Excellent.”
His face brightens up. “I have something special planned for
you. Come on.” He brushes past me, grabbing my hand to pull me
out of the room. When our fingers touch, a strange electricity shoots
through me. His hand is so warm, and I like the way it feels clasping
mine.

I follow him into
the living room. It's the most expansive area in the house, from what
I can tell. An open floor plan that was crowded with people the week
before when I came to his party. It's completely empty now. A literal
waste of space. A huge tiled area that leads to a wall of windows
overlooking his backyard. Briefly, I wonder if there's some furniture
missing. It's definitely too big to be this empty. But then I'm
captivated by the view. He lets go of my hand, and I step up to the
window, looking out onto the manicured landscape. There are
immaculately trimmed trees and shrubbery, several flower beds, and a
large koi pond filled with fish. It's an enchanting view, though I
bet it would be far more stunning in the daytime. As it is, the only
reason that I can see it is because there are lights all over the
yard. Everything in me wants to go outside and explore, but I'm too
shy to ask if I can. I'll just stand here and admire it from afar,
hoping I'll someday get a chance to see it in the daytime.

The soft sound of
classical music scratches to life behind me, and I turn to see
Tristan fiddling with a record player. I can't help but smirk. Who
owns a record player anymore? And the thing looks vintage. I'm
tempted to go take a closer look, but by the time I finally decide to
move, he's walking toward me.

“
Nice
touch,” I tell him playfully.

“
Does
Cinderella dance?” He gazes down on me. His expression is
adoring.

I bite my bottom
lip. “I'm not any good.”

“
Sure
you are. I'll lead. You follow.” He takes one of my hands in
his, then slips his other hand around my waist, stepping even closer
to me.

My breath hitches
from overwhelming nervousness. He's so close, and he smells heavenly.
I feel swept off my feet as he begins to move. I match him
effortlessly, as if our bodies were made to dance together like this.

We stare at each
other as we glide across the floor. My long dress swishes around my
ankles. He's so romantic. So perfect. I can't resist him. All the
protective walls I've built up fall down when I gaze into his eyes.
All the red warning alarms are silenced, as if he's damaged their
very circuitry. I'm so lost, and I don't want to be found. Falling so
hard that I might not ever be able to stand again.

We dance for what
feels like hours, never speaking, simply staring at each other. We
dance until my feet hurt, but the pain is eclipsed by the strange
warmth in my heart. And I don't want it to go away, so I don't stop
dancing. I've never felt like this before. It's absolutely
intoxicating. I can't get enough of this feeling.

Finally, the record
reaches its end, and Tristan pulls me to a halt. The intense look is
there, but I know that I'm matching it. I can't stop looking at him.
I know what it means. He likes me, and I like him. He wants me, and I
want . . . I don't know what I want.

“
Do
you believe in love at first sight, Sarah?” he asks, making my
cheeks glow with warmth.

I know he's trying
to be sweet. He expects me to say yes. But I hate lying. I only do it
when I feel like I have to, and right now, I just want to be honest.
“I believe in lust at first sight. There's no such thing as
love at first sight.”

“
But
there is.” His hand reaches up to caress my cheek, and I lean
into it. “I've loved you from the first moment I laid eyes on
you.”

“
You're
just being charming,” I laugh nervously.

He bends suddenly
and presses his lips against mine, stealing my breath. I expect his
kiss to be hungry. Expect that I'll have to pull away from him. The
kiss isn't hungry though. It's chaste and gentle and everything my
fantasies conveyed. I find myself leaning into him, not wanting him
to pull away. It's over far too soon, and I'm left dumbfounded and
wanton.

“
Wow.
That was . . . Just . . . Wow,” I stutter stupidly, licking my
lips to taste him on them.

“
Then
can I do it again?” He looks hopeful.

“
Yes.”

Almost before the
word can leave my lips, he's claiming them. This time, his kiss is
much more impassioned. His tongue slides across my bottom lip, and I
open my mouth, letting him inside, wanting to taste more of him. He
slowly rakes his fingers through my hair, holding me tenderly against
him as our mouths move in time. I wrap my hands around his broad
shoulders, feeling the muscle flex beneath his polo. My body comes
alive with desires I know I shouldn't feel. Dark desires. Sexual
desires.

When he finally
pulls away, I sigh softly. My eyes are still closed. I'm soaking up
the sensory overload. This man is truly amazing. How did I ever get
so lucky as to wind up in his house again after the stupid crap I
pulled?

He takes me by the
hand and starts leading me away from the living room. When I realize
we're moving towards the stairs, my heart stops. This is where things
get messed up. He's assuming I want something that I don't. My
perfect night is about to come to an end.

I stall when we
reach the bottom of the stairs, heartbroken that I'm going to have to
ruin things with my resistance. Sad that this will probably be the
end. When he finds out I don't want to have sex with him, he'll never
want to see me again. That's how these things usually work.

He turns when he
feels my hand strain against his. “What's wrong?”

“
I'm
sorry.” I look away, feeling guilty. “I think I gave you
the wrong impression.”

“
I
just want to show you around upstairs,” his words are innocent,
but I know it's a lie.

“
I've
seen upstairs already,” I remind him, letting go of his hand.

He walks back down
the few stairs he ascended. It reminds me of the night at the party,
except this time is different. This time is so much more intimate. “I
told you I'm not going to do anything you don't want me to. I told
you that last time, and I stuck by my word. You just said I need to
be more trusting. I think that applies to you as well. Trust me.”
He offers me his hand again.

I stare at it for a
moment as if it's a dangerous animal that will snap at me if I try to
make contact. My mind goes back to that night in his room, to the way
he gently pulled the shirt over my head. He could have taken
advantage of me, but he didn't. Thus far, he's given me no reason not
to trust him.

Gingerly, I place my
hand in his, following him upstairs. I expect him to show me around,
like he said he would. There are a few doors upstairs, but he leads
me straight into his bedroom. I've seen this room before. I don't
need to see it again.

“
This
is my bathroom.” He shows me to the bathroom door.

I peek inside. If
this was an actual tour, I might be impressed. As it is now, my mind
is stuck on why he took me directly to his room again. The mystery is
solved when I feel his hands slide around my waist, drawing me back
against him. My heart speeds up as his lips touch my neck, kissing me
tenderly. I place my hands on top of his, gently trying to pry them
off of me.

“
I
thought you said we weren't going to do this,” my tone is
serious.

“
Do
what?” He continues to play innocent.

“
I
don't do one night stands.” I twist around in his grasp to face
him.

“
Who
said this was just going to be one night?”

The intensity of his
gaze catches me off-guard, and my defenses go down long enough for
his lips to reach mine. His hands tighten around my waist, but I
don't feel caged in. There's a strange mix of brazen desire and soft
sensuality to him. He knows not to press too hard. He knows how to
press just enough to make me want more.

I allow myself to
melt into the kiss, savoring the feel of him for a few moments before
I finally pull away, fearing he might try for more. “I'm not
the kind of girl you think I am.” I avert me eyes, not wanting
to get caught up in his gaze again.