Layers Deep (17 page)

When his mouth
left my breast and he headed south, I grabbed the side of the
counter. Dropping to his knees, Tristan parted my thighs, moved the
laced fabric further to the side, and dove into my folds.
Everything inside me shut down as his hot lips touched my skin. I
grabbed his head, steadying the hungry rhythm. I braced my hands on
the top of his head, centering him right on that spot, trying to
slow him down, but Tristan wouldn’t have it any other way than to
make me come fast and hard. His tongue now flicked my clit like it
had been neglected for days, while his fingers slid inside me,
stretching and pushing until I felt the slap of his wrist against
my flesh, squishing out all my fluids. The suction of his mouth
deprived my skin of any oxygen. That one spot on my body; the most
sensitive one became the center of my world.

“I’m gonna
come,” I heaved, feeling the sweat drip down my cleavage as every
sensor I had concentrated on the tiny spot which was about to
burst, and I wanted to scream when it did but Tristan’s hand
clamped over my mouth. The rapture tore through me with a wave of
pleasure almost unreal. My limbs tightened, letting the
antagonizing jitters pass through; then they fell limp, and Tristan
finally pulled his mouth away from my slobbered skin.

He stood up,
his cock firm again, looking at me from below. “I want to fuck you,
but we should go downstairs.”

The world
still spun around me and it took over a minute to find a word, any
word.

“Okay.”

But my insides
already began begging for more. I didn’t want to leave. I wanted
Tristan on me and inside me. Would I ever get enough of this
man?

“Go on first,
tell them I’m on a call. I need a couple of minutes for this guy to
stand down. We can continue tonight.” He lowered his gaze.

The promise
lingered in the air as I imagined the different ways we could
finish our prelude – and I so hoped it was just a prelude to an
anthem which would finish with fireworks. Thinking about tonight, I
giggled as if I were a girl who’d heard the word ‘cock’ for the
first time.

Tristan
dressed me, all the while stealing kisses as if we were two
teenagers sneaking around in his parents’ house – which in a sense
we were. My hands were all over him, roaming like I wanted to
discover his body every minute of every day. He was everything to
me, and not enough. When we finally pulled apart, I washed my
hands, rinsed my mouth again for good measure, and rushed
downstairs.

Of course at
the bottom of the staircase Emma stood, looking up at me. “Why
didn’t you use the downstairs powder room?” She took my hand as
soon as I reached the bottom stair and before I could answer, she
pulled me toward the basement stairs—the ones that were not
concealed.

Mrs. Cross was
waiting for us in a salon. She wore a blue apron, and a comb was
stuck in her hair. Mannequin heads were lined up on a counter, each
one sporting a different style.

“It will take
a while, dear. Has Tristan told you what we’re doing?” she
asked.

“No.”

“Good, I love
surprises,” she almost squeaked, and so did Emma, who wore plastic
gloves, mixing something in a bowl.

“Please let me
do your whole hair!” Emma begged, standing at my side with her
black mixture ready.

“If your mom
says it’s okay, then that’s fine.”

“Hold on. Let
me see that.” Tristan’s voice rushed across the basement toward us.
He looked into Emma’s bowl as if he held a degree in coloring, then
checked the tube she’d squeezed the paste from. Was there anything
Tristan Cross couldn’t do? He placed the glass of scotch on a table
to the side and set my drink there too.

“Okay.”

“Yay!”

Emma sat me
down in a reclining chair and lowered me back, while Mrs. Cross
pulled out another chair for Tristan. She covered him with a towel
around his neck and front.

Butterflies
flapped against my stomach. I felt like I was getting an extreme
makeover, which I probably was. Yet the truth of why we were going
undercover lingered in my mind. I’d never forgotten what I’d have
to do and how strong I’d need to remain.

“Relax, Allie.
This will take a while.”

“Okay.”

I closed my
eyes. For the next hour, Emma colored and washed and brushed and
dried my hair, and for the next three hours, once she finished with
Tristan and sent him upstairs, Mrs. Cross worked every inch of my
head sewing in extensions. The smell of chemicals slowly faded.
Emma didn’t let me look in the mirror even once. At the end, she
applied make-up to my face, and I hoped it wasn’t eighties style.
My curiosity grew every minute, and when they finally let me look
in the mirror, I couldn’t recognize the girl standing there. For a
moment, I even thought it was someone else.

“Holy shit.”
My hand flew to my mouth, but neither Emma nor Mrs. Cross seemed to
mind. “I’m sorry.”

“You look
hot!” Emma jumped up and down like she’d just gotten a birthday and
Christmas gift at once. I hadn’t even seen her react this way when
both brothers gave her their little bribes.

“You’re a
magician,” I said to her.

“I don’t even
recognize you.” My mother, who’d been quiet for most of the day,
spoke up. Her eyes glistened and I could tell she was holding back
tears.

“Ah, Mom…” I
couldn’t get the rest of the words out when she embraced me,
whispering in my ear. “This job, please be careful.”

“I promise,” I
replied, hoping to ease her worry. But I couldn’t help feeling my
nerves spike – which was a good thing. I needed to be on guard for
this job.

I brushed my
fingers through the smooth strands now reaching past my shoulder
blades. The crow-black hair was like silk and held a hint of
purple, visible only in light.

“I love it,
thank you.” I hugged them both tightly. I’d never felt as beautiful
as at that moment.

“Here.” Emma
handed me a box. “Tristan said to put these contacts in before you
go home.” Emma gave me a gift bag Tristan had left behind. Within
it was a new set of black lingerie, including a garter belt and
stockings, as well as a fitted red dress. I changed in the
downstairs bathroom and came out. I couldn’t wait for Tristan to
see me. Would he be pleased?

“Is Tristan
not here?” I looked around the hall but couldn’t find him. My chest
deflated.

“Tristan had
to leave. I’ll take you home.” Julian stepped out of the
shadow.

“All
right.”

After lots of
hugs and kisses and tears from my mom, we finally made it to
Julian’s BMW. And as expected, he opened my door before getting in
himself.

“You look
hot.” The predatory look in his eyes was identical to
Tristan’s.

“Thanks. This
is not my usual wardrobe.” I never owned more than two dresses at a
time. My attire normally was comprised of a uniform that flattened
my chest and a set of sweats to change into when I got home.

“It should be.
My brother has good taste in women. Are you two serious?” He turned
on the ignition.

“Not really. I
don’t know. He’s still my boss, and so are you. If you’re concerned
about me getting Kendra out, you shouldn’t be.”

“I can see why
he’s so smitten with you. Listen. There’s something you should know
about Kendra.” He paused. My head jolted up, and he had my full
attention. “She and Tristan have a past, and I wouldn’t want that
to come between you two.”

“I thought
they had, but why are you telling me this?”

“Because I’d
hate to see you caught off guard when we get her. Tristan tends to
feel very protective of Kendra.” The grip on his steering wheel
tightened.

“Why?”

“They were
close once.” He looked at me for a moment before his gaze returned
to the road.

“Oh.” I bit my
lip. “It was serious, then?”

“You mean
before she stabbed him in the chest? I’m sure you’ve seen the
scar.” The lopsided grin said
I know you had sex.

“Yes, I have,”
I whispered, suddenly the car felt hotter than it had before.
Kendra was the one who’d hurt him, and now Tristan was determined
to help her. Why? Perhaps he was still in love with Kendra. And
even if he wasn’t, I had no claim on him. He was only my boss;
although one who had turned both my world and my body upside down.
But Tristan Cross was the type to forget his own pain to help
others. He always appeared to put their feelings before his own.
But why was Julian telling me this?

“You like
her?” I took a guess.

“She’s my
brother’s girl.”

“But they’re
not together.”

“It doesn’t
matter.”

“What about
the sharing is caring?”

“You’ve been
talking to Emma,” he chuckled. “That was long ago. I told him I’d
ask her out and he bet me he could do it first, for fun. Tristan
won.” Julian’s face darkened with regret.

He finally
looked at me. “Ah, come on. I couldn’t resist a bet. I was young
and stupid. We were only teens.”

“But if he
hadn’t challenged you, Kendra would have been yours.”

Julian
dismissed my comment, but he didn’t have to acknowledge it. In a
time of what should have been a brotherly rivalry, feelings had
developed. Julian in some way not only lost Kendra, he’d also lost
his brother.

“Kendra was
Tristan’s first. You never forget your first.”

That was true
– but from my own experience, if your first wasn’t the right
person, it didn’t matter. You might not forget him, but it didn’t
mean he was right for you.

“Why does she
mean so much to you, Julian?”

“I don’t know.
While Tristan will never forgive her, even if she was high, I could
have. I know I could help her get better.”

“Was she your
first too?” I asked.

“How did you
know?” He broke his concentration driving.

“You just told
me.”

“Geez, you
don’t miss a beat, do you?”

“It’s the way
you talk about her.”

“That obvious?
Allie, you can’t mention that to Tristan. It didn’t mean anything
to her at the time, but it did to me. I’d like to get another
chance. Tristan doesn’t know.”

As much as the
devil inside me pressed my mind to tell Tristan the truth, I
couldn’t do that. I wouldn’t betray Julian’s trust.

“It sounds
like you’d be good for her,” I said, watching his reaction.
Julian’s mouth curved up. The man had it bad for his brother’s
ex.

“Don’t worry,
we’ll get her out. You’ll have her soon enough.”

What I’d said
was selfish. In the back of my mind I knew that if Julian took care
of Kendra, that would leave Tristan all for me. Was that what he’d
wanted? Or had Tristan hired me only so I could get her back for
him?

“You’re in
love with her, and you can’t tell her.”

“I have been
for a long time. I think I understand what she’s been through. My
branch of the company deals more with substance abuse, but she’s my
brother’s ex and he—they’re just complicated.”

“Because she
stabbed him?”

“Yes. That
scar will always remind him of her. No matter whether they’re
together or not, he’ll always think of her when he touches that
scar. And I hate him for it. Even if I’m able to be with Kendra,
he’ll always think of her. He’ll always be the one who had her
first.”

The thought of
Tristan’s scar being a permanent reminder ached at my core.

“If you love
her, it shouldn’t matter.”

We were parked
in the underground garage of Tristan’s apartment.

“Easier said
than done.” Julian looked ahead toward the elevator. “Look, I’m
sorry I’m the one you’re hearing this from. I want to make things
right for Tristan, Kendra, you, and me. I just need a chance.”

I leaned over
and hugged Julian as if he were my own brother. His physique was so
similar to Tristan’s it was difficult not to imagine him there. No
wonder I’d mistaken him for his brother in that bar. “I’m glad we
can be honest, and I know we’ll find Kendra.”

He kissed the
top of my head, and I felt relief in the way his tensed body eased
into mine.

“Thank you. My
brother’s a good guy, and he’s very smitten with you. Is it selfish
for me to think if he has you, perhaps he’ll stay away from
Kendra?”

I laughed. “Is
it selfish for me to think if you can be with her, that will leave
Tristan for me?”

“I think we’ll
be just fine, Green.”

“I think we
will.” I pulled back, looking into those hypnotizing eyes. Both
Cross brothers were so easy to look at.

“Thank you. I
think for once Tristan chose well.”

And with that
I left toward the elevator that took me up to Tristan’s
penthouse.

He sat on the
couch, his white shirt open, tie undone, and a scotch in his hand.
A blend of the expensive alcohol floated in the air. The half-empty
bottle reflected orange light. He must hand come home some time
ago. For a moment, I didn’t recognize Tristan. His hair was much
shorter and crow-black just like mine. He wore blue contacts, the
same shade as the ones Emma had given me. For whatever reason he’d
left his parents’ house early, it couldn’t have been to his liking.
Only one thing could change his mood now, or at least make him
forget whatever was troubling him.

His breaths
were deep. As soon as the door opened he devoured my every single
move, stripping me naked with his gaze. I removed my shoes and
strolled to the plush carpet at the foot of the couch without
saying a word. A flex under his pants signaled his need.

The way he
scanned my body from the bottom up felt like his fingers were
already exploring my skin. Yet we were still more than five feet
apart. I stepped a little closer. A deep rumble sounded from where
Tristan was sitting. He downed the last gulp of his scotch and set
the glass down onto the side table. He breathed me in, and I got
lost in his scent as well.