Finding Love's Wings (33 page)

He slowly rises to his feet, lightly running his mouth and tongue along my body as he finds his way to my lips. His kiss is hot and quick. In response I pull him closer and put all the passion I feel for him into this kiss. His mouth tastes like a sweet mix of him and my arousal, a heady combination that has my sex on fire once again.
 

He reaches behind me and the water stops. He slides the door back and grabs my towel, wrapping me up nice and tight. He uses a second towel to dry my hair as best he can. He shivers.

"Are you cold?"

He chuckles and shakes his head. "No, I'm thinking about burying my cock deep inside your warm, dripping wet pussy."
 

I blush. He can be so crass and unguarded sometimes. I love it.
 

I turn to leave the shower, but he touches my shoulder. I turn back to see that he's naked, his swim trunks in a pile on the floor. His erection is causing the towel he has wrapped around his waist to tent. No doubt cool air is rushing up his erection because he shivers again.
 

"I'm going to carry you," he says, then bends down and scoops me up in the firm grip of his arms.
 

He walks cautiously across the bathroom floor, but when his toes hit the carpet of the bedroom he picks up the pace.
 

He's gentle laying me out on the bed. Then he slowly begins to unwrap the towel, like he's unwrapping the ultimate Christmas present. I giggle at his expression. His eyes are alight with excitement.
 

"What’s so funny, baby-Girl?"

I smile. "The look on your face. The excitement in your eyes. I'm giggling because it's pretty hot."

He chuckles, and from there we instantly become lost in each other.
 

About an hour later we surface to reality. Sated and excited for tonight, I start to get dressed, but Tristan stops me.
 

"Just your robe, Sweets. I have a massage waiting for you on the patio. After you're done, we’ll have lunch."
 

I gape at him. "What?" I whisper. I’m completely shocked by his gesture.

"Well, with all the stress of the last thirty-six hours, and the roaring excitement of your friends coming in tonight, I thought maybe you could use an hour or two relaxing with someone else taking care of you." He looks at me with such devotion, But his eyes are crinkled in the corners, worry? "What's wrong, Cami?"

I don't respond right away. The fact that he was thoughtful enough to order another massage for me really has sent my thoughts into a tailspin.
 

"I am just not used to..." I pause, not sure how to say what I want to say.

I hesitate too long and Tristan finishes my unspoken thought. "You're not used to someone else caring about you, are you?"

Emotions well up in me so strong I don't trust myself to answer, so I nod. He comes around the bed to me and wraps me in his arms. His embrace is warm and comforting. Tears prick my eyes, but I don't want him to see me cry again, not over something as trivial as this.
 

Growing up in the Enders household meant that you were left to your own devices. Parents that shipped you off to boarding schools on the other side of the world. Parents who died, leaving you to face the fact that they claimed to love you and wondering whether, in some strange way, they did.
 

Wrapped in Tristan's warm, protective embrace, I begin to hope that maybe I really can be loved and that I, too, can love in return.
 

The revelation brings the tears to overwhelming thickness and they spill over. I'm pressed so tight to his naked chest that it takes only a matter of seconds for Tristan to realize that I'm crying.
 

He tries to lift my chin to look at him. I fight it as best I can; I don't want him to see me like this.
 

"Cami, baby, please don't cry. Why are you crying?"

I sniffle a little bit, searching for the right words so that he will know how much I appreciate the gesture and what it means to me.
 

I take a long, deep breath. And another. "I am very flattered, overwhelmingly so, that you would do something as sweet as getting me a massage because I've been stressed." I take another deep breath. "Tristan, I've never had anyone that's cared about me, put me before themselves, or even took the time to listen. The idea that you want to do all of that is so overwhelming that I'm not sure how to handle it. I was mistreated by my parents for my entire life, and when they were gone I was relieved and then mocked by their willingness on their deaths to attempt to prove that they loved me. Something I, to this day, cannot fathom."

He peels himself away from me and sits on the bed. I shiver at the loss of his warmth and comfort from my body. He looks up at me. His eyes are swimming with a need to convey something.
 

He reaches out for my hand, and I take a step toward him to stand between his legs, looking into his smoldering blue eyes.
 

He takes a deep breath and... "Sweetie, I am deeply sorry that your parents were not what they should have been. You are a bright, brilliant, beautiful, strong woman, and your parents are the ones that realized far too late what a gem you really are. I will always do my best to put your needs before myself and before anything to do with me. The massage is because of all the stress I know I have put you through these last few days with my own personal drama. It kills me that you had to get involved in all of this."
 

I open my mouth to protest, to tell him that I volunteered to help him and am doing it because I want to. But he holds up his hand to silence me.
 

"Let me finish, love. I know that you came here last week to get away from all the drama in Phoenix and you met me. Something I hope is a good thing and not a damper on your vacation."
 

I shake my head. How can he think that? He's the very best part of my vacation.
 

"Then I bring my life down on you at blinding speed. I'm beyond grateful" –he brings his other hand to his chest, over his heart— "that I met you, and I wouldn't change anything about this week, except..." He pauses just long enough to catch his breath. "Except that I would not have had all the drama of Layla to come along with me.

"Cami, I need you to know that you are very important to me, and I want to see you well taken care of, no matter what the price. No matter what it takes.
 

“So please, go. Enjoy your massage. Relax and unwind for a while. When you're done we'll have a late breakfast delivered and adjust so that we can have dinner with our friends tonight. I would take you to Caran or Blu, but I can't go downstairs. There have been some new arrivals today." Tension fills my body. "The hotel assures Tyson that their reservations were made long before the story, but some of the women have been overheard discussing the story and me."
 

I know that this is the part of his celebrity status he hates, and it's easy to understand, especially now. He has to limit his own movements, and with that, mine.
 

"They're all in their early twenties. No doubt they know who I am, and I do not want to subject myself or you to the maddening fandom."
 

I place my finger to his lips to silence him. He's starting to babble, and I already understand what he's saying.
 

"Tristan, you are who you are. I will go with you regardless. I will endure whatever public scrutiny you will be faced with as a result of your celebrity or this stupid story. All that said, I'm more than okay staying in the suite with you."
 

I lean in and place my lips on his. The now-familiar electricity zings between us.
 

Our recent post-shower escapade has left me sated and somewhat exhausted, and the massage is sounding better and better. I'm tense for obvious reasons, but I'm also sore because the man I'm kissing is nothing short of an animal in bed.
 

When the kiss ends, Tristan says, "That doesn't stop me from wanting to protect you, but your words are nice just the same. I'll do my best to remember, but please don't get angry with me if I forget."

"Fair enough," I say, and I kiss him chastely again and reach for my robe.
 

Tristan finishes dressing in a t-shirt and khaki shorts, sans underwear. Yeah, ‘cause I need the reminder that he's wearing nothing under the shorts. My sex warms. Will I ever get enough of this man? The answer between my legs is no, no I won't.

PART THIRTY

Hearing commotion inside the suite, Cami and I head out of the bedroom to find Tyson, Mike, Sasha, and Leroy standing in the sitting room. Cami's gaze quickly meets mine, confusion in her eyes.
 

"I told Tyson on Monday that we would need a female bodyguard here for you and your friends. She blends in nicely so that when you ladies desire some unaccompanied shopping this weekend, you can take her with you."
 

I've been expecting her to be angry, but instead her eyes widen slightly in fear, the reality of the situation crashing down on her in a rush. Then her expression goes from fear to adoration in a nanosecond.
 

"Thank you," she breathes.
 

"I just want to know you're safe. After those calls yesterday I really feel it's necessary to ensure you guys don't have any issues when you're away from Tyson or myself."

She just nods, and I proceed with the introductions.
 

"Cami, this is Mike." I point to the shorter and stouter of the two men.
 

She reaches out to shake his hand. "Nice to meet you," she says.
 

Then I point to Leroy. Don't let the name fool you, the man is a beast. Standing at six feet, seven inches, he looks a lot like a body builder. He reminds me of Shaq or Michael Clark Duncan.
 

"This is Leroy."
 

Cami's eyes widen slightly at the sight of him, but she says, "Pleasure to meet you," and reaches out to shake his hand.
 

I have to stifle a laugh at her pale skin against Leroy's dark skin and the fact that his hand is about as big as her head. When Leroy lets the handshake linger a little longer than necessary, I grow a little uncomfortable. She doesn't seem to notice that he's hanging on a little too long, and that warms my heart. I hope I don't ever have a reason to show my jealous side to Cami.
 

She turns next to Sasha. Sasha has a gymnast’s body: broad shoulders and hips, toned to perfection, and silent muscles that you really can’t see, but no doubt if she flexed you would be immediately intimidated. She has a very butch style haircut that has me wondering about her sexual orientation. All in all she is not unattractive.
 

”And this is Sasha.” I say.

"Yes, Sir.” I frown. She extends her hand and Cami takes it. “It's a pleasure to meet you." She has one of those ultra-raspy, I've-smoked-too-many-cigarettes-in-my-life voices. It's strangely a bit sexy.
 

"Likewise." Cami's accent comes out on the word and I feel sensations deep down, tugging at the already present erection. Walking around with a hard-on is something I'm getting used to. Cami just has this effect on me.
 

"Since Mike, Sasha, and Leroy have arrived, why don't you fill me in on what you've found out about the new guests?" I say.
 

Tyson glances briefly at Cami, and I give him a tiny warning glance. We had discussed this earlier while Cami was sleeping. Anything Tyson has to say regarding Cami’s or my safety is to be discussed in front of her without hesitation.
 

Tyson nods almost imperceptibly and says, "Six women, all in their early to mid-twenties. There's no indication that they know Tristan is here."

Sasha adds, "We spoke with the manager on the way in. He informed me that the reservations were made early Tuesday morning, but we confirmed that their flight into Tahiti was purchased several months ago. Their reservations are good through Saturday morning, and they have requested transportation back to Tahiti at eleven that morning."

"Sounds like they just decided they wanted a weekend getaway in a place a little more remote than Tahiti." Cami is ever thinking and countering. This is why I want her to know all of what is going on. She adds some pretty good insight to a situation.

Mike is next to speak. "I ran through the names on the guest list. None of them stand out as photographers or reporters."

"They're out on the beach now," Tyson adds. "You can see them from the balcony if want a look for yourself."
 

"No, thanks." I have no desire and no need.
 

"Speaking of balcony." She turns to the three bodyguards. "It was a pleasure meeting you. I'm sure I'll see you guys later." Then she turns to me. Reaches up on her tiptoes. I lean in to shorten the distance, fighting a smile. "Thank you," she whispers and kisses me. A chaste, appreciative kiss.
 

She turns on her heel and heads to the open doors. I watch her walk away until she turns to climb onto the massage table.

Turning to Tyson, I say, "Are our guests on schedule?"
 

"Yeah. Logistics are all taken care of. ETA is around ten thirty tonight. We've set them up downstairs in Cami's other suite. With the two bedrooms and pullout couch, I think they'll be comfortable."

I look to the trio and they all nod. I look back at Tyson. "Thank you, Ty." I smile, feeling true appreciation for all he has done. "Anything else?"

Tyson clears his throat. "Trinity was looking for Cami earlier. She said it was important, but not an emergency. I told her I'd have Cami get in touch when she got up."

"It is probably time that I checked my email, huh?"

Tyson nods. "That might not be a bad idea. You have been MIA for a week now. Well, not completely MIA, but you know what I mean."