Layers Deep (11 page)

“I’m gonna
have to personally make sure you can perform.” A devilish grin
returned to the side of his face.

She can
perform, all right!
The little red devil hopped back on my
shoulder.

“I can do
this,” I assured him with as much professionalism as I could.

Cross took my
hand. “Thank you. I promise to keep you safe.”

The guarantee
of safety scared me a little more than when he’d said the job was
dangerous. His jawbone tensed and I imagined pain in his eyes, but
he didn’t turn to look at me.

“Mr. Cross...”
I wasn’t sure what came over me to be so formal.

“Please call
me Tristan, even if you think of me only as your employer.”

There was
something more intimate about calling Tristan by his first name,
and it felt right.

“Tristan, I
can see you’re personally invested in the job you’re hiring me for.
That’s not a good thing for you or anyone else.”

“It’s the only
way. And your employment won’t begin until morning. Tonight, you’re
my hooker, and I need to see if I spent my money well.” He smirked.
“We’re here.”

As much as the
words would normally have offended me, they didn’t coming from his
mouth. But whether Tristan was joking or not was yet to be seen.
Did he really want me to perform as a hooker tonight? Was I about
to play out a fantasy?

We pulled into
an underground parking lot. Tristan parked by an elevator, right
beside the other four Bentleys. Each one shone with a fresh coat of
waxed pride.

Before I got a
chance to pull on the handle, he opened the car door on my side. I
squished my legs together, sliding my mini lower on my thighs, and
stepped out like a mermaid.

The exclusive
elevator opened as soon as we approached. Tristan didn’t even press
the button. Impressed with the security, I moved forward, feeling
his hand at the small of my back. Shivers ran through my body
resting deep in my belly as I reminded myself that this was my job
interview and I had to earn my position. What position was I
applying for, exactly? Sex trafficking? I’d be lying if I said I
didn’t know I’d end up in Tristan’s bed tonight, but that’s what I
needed. The sexual tension between us had to be relieved before we
could continue work.

The door
closed. In the place of buttons for the elevator was a keypad with
a retina scan. Tristan stepped up and looked into the glass
sphere.

Welcome
home, Mr. Cross,
intoned the automated speaker.

We’re going to
his house?

My feet
pressed to the floor as the elevator lifted against gravity.
Tristan turned, facing me. His sultry stare bore through my body,
and I felt my back press against the mirrored wall.

It wasn’t
supposed to be like this. He wasn’t supposed to hold power over me;
no man ever had. I was a cop. A strong cop who wasn’t swayed by
crying mothers, cute puppies, or gorgeous hunks speeding in their
Ferraris, offering everything they owned and more. But I was also a
woman – and to Tristan, my body responded of its own accord. I felt
my breasts swell and I wished I’d worn a dress with a larger top:
one that could hold the twins in better. Tristan didn’t seem to
mind.

“So, what will
two thousand dollars buy me, sweetheart?”

Even if we
were playing, I had a feeling this was going to be one hell of an
interview—one of the best ones I’d ever had.

“Whatever you
want.” I wondered how far he’d go, and how far I’d allow him to go.
I already knew what he wanted. My instincts were solid, especially
the hormonal ones. My body had secretly ached for his touch since
he’d walked into the auditorium. And that one deep kiss we’d shared
in his car was like a teasing spoonful of chocolate cake. I craved
chocolate cake; and not just a bite.

And before I
could say another word, Tristan crushed his mouth to mine,
possessing it like he owned me, spreading my lips apart with his
needy tongue. The hint of scotch still lingered in his mouth. And
at this moment, he did own me. Every. Single. Piece of me.

His grip on my
wrists above my head would have normally enraged me. But tonight I
wasn’t a cop, and his strong and demanding fingers wrapped around
my hands like cuffs, burning me with a long-forgotten yearning.

The force of
his lips devoured mine, his tongue exploring my mouth. The few
moans that escaped me, Tristan swallowed. I had no room to breathe
and found hardly enough strength to stand on my legs.

He let go of
my mouth and trailed his lips along my jaw to my cheek and ear
before lowering down my neck, pinning me against the wall. Oh, God,
he felt so good against my body. Everything inside me twisted and
tightened and released in unbearable pulses between my thighs. I
breathed him in, the oak smell of his scotch imprinted in his skin
and in his hair.

The elevator
halted and Tristan jolted up as if he’d just realized what he’d
done. He searched my eyes with his as if asking permission to go
on. And for the first time tonight, doubt crept in. He leaned his
forehead against mine.

“We can’t do
this. I’m your employee,” I whispered into his mouth. But inside, I
laughed at my own unconvincing words, feeling the heat between my
legs penetrate my dampened panties.

The open
elevator door chimed the second time.

“Your body
says we can.” He cupped my engorged breasts, one in each hand,
squeezing them in slow motion, feeling their full weight.

I held my
breath, pushing my chest into his palms, filling them.

He looked
straight into my eyes. “And you’re not hired until the
morning.”

This time, his
mouth took my lips slowly. The forceful tongue softened, teasing my
gums, and I couldn’t get enough of his taste as he guided me into
his apartment. We never broke our kiss and I couldn’t remember when
my arms wrapped around his neck and fingers weaved through his
silky hair. Tristan’s hands slid down my body and under my skirt,
scrunching it up to my waist, and I felt him smile against my
mouth.

“You’re
prepared.” His palm covered the hand gun in a holster strapped to
my thigh.

“You never
know what weirdo you’ll run into on the street.”

He laughed,
pulling the buckle open. Tristan set my piece aside on the
table.

“What else are
you hiding there?” He drew his finger along my brow, looking deep
into my eyes. And for a moment I thought he could see everything,
including my soul.

“Things I can
never forget.” Did I just say that?

“I want to
help you forget, for tonight at least.” The comfort and
understanding in his eyes struck me deep inside. But behind those
deep amber-like gems there was also pain. I wasn’t the only one
hurting. Whatever had happened to Tristan must have been bad.
Perhaps he was scarred as deep as I was? Had he ever allowed anyone
to see what was hidden, layers deep inside his heart? I wondered
what secrets he held and whether he’d share them.

“I’m going to
fuck you now.” His voice thickened with lust as his fingers gripped
the lace panties on my ass. The way he’d said this so nonchalantly
comforted me. Like it was something we both needed and wanted.

A fuck to
forget.

“If that’s
what two thousand dollars buys, fuck away.” When I looked into his
eyes, Tristan understood completely.

Tightening his
grip, he lifted me up and seized my mouth. I wrapped my legs around
his waist, my arms holding onto his upper body. Tristan carried me
across his apartment, but I couldn’t remember a single detail about
the place, except the faint smell of scotch, manly musk, and
Tristan.

I loved
smelling him.

His lips felt
so good and natural against my mouth, just as it had when he’d
kissed me that first time in the car. I’d dreamt about that
luscious kiss every night. But this was much better than a dream,
because his lips were warm and real. His bulging arms and flexing
muscles as he carried me so effortlessly pulsed under my body. I
wasn’t sure when he’d laid me down on the bed, or removed my skirt,
panties, or even the top, because the next time he pulled away from
my mouth and I looked up, I was naked, in a faintly lit bedroom,
propped on my elbows, watching Tristan remove his jeans and
shirt.

The tented
boxers didn’t remain long on him either. Oh, God, what was
happening to me? I’d had sex before, but this... and him... why did
it feel so different? I hadn’t been with him yet, but something
told me I wouldn’t want anyone else after this.

Tristan
crawled onto the bed and pushed my feet up, bending my knees. My
full front was exposed and soaking for him. I knew it and so did
he. The hungry smile on his face made every muscle in my body tense
with anticipation. He lowered his head between my knees and dove
into me without warning, and I thought I heard myself scream as his
mouth spread my juices and his fingers parted my wet folds. Or
perhaps it was all in my head? I don’t quite remember. All I know
is that no one had ever taken me the way Tristan did. He teased
with the utmost patience, licking me up and down before settling
higher for a longer suck of my most sensitive part. Then he stopped
and kissed my inner thigh, allowing me to calm my arousal, return
to my senses, only to assault me again with his tongue. This
continued for a few rounds before he eased his finger inside me,
stretching me. While this index dug deeper and faster, his tongue
began flicking with fervor.

I wouldn’t
last. I couldn’t last. The assault of his sucks and slurps on my
tender flesh drew all my senses toward that one part of my body
getting all the attention. The swell of agonizing excitement began
to burst as I gripped the sheets underneath, holding on for my
life. The charge of my orgasm flew through my body from that tip
and out my fingers and toes as I screamed.

“Stop!”

But he
wouldn’t. He knew my words were not my own and they weren’t
convincing. I wanted him to stop because I couldn’t imagine it
getting any better or stronger, and if it did, I’d disintegrate. I
didn’t want anything to ruin the moment of pure joy. But Tristan
had other plans. His ravishing mouth licked again and sucked again.
There was no way an orgasm could last so long! How? This was the
most pleasurable torture I could have asked for. And when he saw my
weakened knees fall apart, unable to keep upright as the excitement
roamed through me again and again and again, Tristan slowed to
simple kisses. His mouth drew up along my belly toward my hip. He
kissed a path across my stomach to the other side, then up to my
navel, sliding his hands over my hips to my breasts. His hands were
always on me, always connected, as if he owned my body. My nipples,
still sensitive, received soothing licks and I appreciated the
moment of rest.

Tristan’s
glistening mouth touched my lips and I tasted my fluids, mixed with
a fresh swallow of scotch. A half-empty glass revealed its orange
contents on the night table. Had it there been before we came in? I
wasn’t sure, but I didn’t care. The taste of him and me in my mouth
was perfect.

“You’re
fucking delicious.” He kissed my neck and my shoulder. Even the
little devil shied away. What Tristan had done to me was too much
for anyone.

“That was
incredible,” I smiled. I hadn’t smiled like this in a long time. I
don’t think I could have let go of so much tension if Wright was
still on my mind. But the bastard was long gone, hopefully already
buried.

“There’s more
where that came from.” His manhood jabbed at the side of my thigh
and I turned to my side, my back pressed against his heated
chest.

I arched my
spine, tilting my bottom toward him. A low growl sounded from deep
inside him as he took hold of my hip. Hearing the faint rip of foil
I said, “No need for that. I’m on the pill, Tristan.”

“Thank you,
sweet mother of...” He couldn’t finish, and with one swift prod, he
buried himself in my lubricated tunnel. The stretch was exquisite,
and I wondered why it had been so long since I’d had sex. He stayed
there for a moment, his chest rising steadily, pulse racing faster
and faster. I recognized the hesitation. It was as if he was
fighting against a little devil of his own.

“Fuck me,
Tristan. Forget about everything else. Let me help you forget.”

And with my
permission, Tristan began to move his hips, accelerating the
merciless advance in a sweet rhythm. I wasn’t aware of how I ended
up on my knees and elbows with Tristan behind me on his knees,
pushing me forward with each thrust. I braced on my arms and tilted
my ass even higher for him. His hands squeezed my hips and low
huffs of joy escaped his mouth each time he dove into me. The
dynamic of our bodies connecting astounded me. His body moved in
tandem with mine. Even if this was our first time together, he was
the master of my flesh. And at that moment, I knew – I’d never be
with anyone else like this. Tristan was the missing piece in my
life who could make me forget, make me enjoy sex for what it was.
He was the perfect fit. I tightened around him, feeling his rhythm
intensify.

He plunged
until I felt his cock at my depth. The swell below was slicker by
the minute. The slap of his front against me echoed. The sound of
our fluids squishing between our writhing bodies and the exquisite
smell of sex and lust excited me. Our skin-to-skin connection sent
my senses into overdrive as he filled me. I moved my hips in a
small circles as he slammed into me.

I inhaled his
sweat aroma of alcohol and Old Spice and sweat. Then he stopped,
flipped me over, and I was on my back with legs wide apart for him.
Like a marionette I lay there open, waiting for the next
onslaught.

“You’re
fucking amazing,” he said, lowering himself on top of me,
supporting his weight on his elbows. His broad shoulders encased me
as he lowered his mouth to my breast, centering his hips between my
legs again. Tristan looked into my eyes, and I wasn’t sure what
passed between us. An unspoken understanding of what we both
needed. He slid into me, and I wrapped my legs around his waist,
letting him stretch me.