Rendezvous (17 page)

Chapter 16

Tristan

I hate how even after all of this time Bentley is still embarrassed about being kissed in public. She acts like she’s ashamed, whereas I want to proudly display it to the fucking world that she is mine, and that no one makes her body react the way I can.

I am so fucking confident she’s still mine. I think I have our relationship back in the bag until I ask her to go out with me tomorrow. It’s more for formality since Marco and I have the night already planned out. That is until she throws me for a loop and informs me she can’t because she has a date tomorrow. I’m fucking livid. I don’t even bother asking with whom, I just walk the fuck away.

I’m fuming as I pick my cell up and call Marco. I don’t like playing the fool and I don’t fucking appreciate looking like a fucking moron. The thing is Marco seems genuinely surprised when I tell him Bentley already has plans. He doesn’t have even the slightest fucking clue who she would be going out with at all.

I don’t know how much more my pride can fucking take. I know I have no business being here, especially when she is waiting for someone else, but I have to know why she would kiss me like that if she has moved the fuck on. You don’t kiss someone the way she kissed me if you don’t still want them. That’s just fucked up.

Mrs. Anders lets me in the back door, and I’m watching her sit in the window, staring out of it. I know I should just leave, as she’s waiting for her date to arrive. It’s eating me alive that she has someone else she’s waiting on when it should damn well be me. I don’t know what the fuck is coming over me; I’m not desperate. I just can’t walk the hell away; not when she is meant to be mine.

I’m internally debating whether I should just pack up and leave, if I should spare myself the heartache and humiliation I’m sure to feel when she wraps her arms around this other dude. I’m lost in my own personal misery until a small movement from the corner of my eye catches me off guard. She’s twitching her toes back and forth. To most people, that would be of little consequence, but not to me. See, I know Bentley like the back of my hand. She always makes sure every detail is as right as she wants it to be before leaving the house. She doesn’t like to keep anyone waiting. So the simple fact that she isn’t wearing shoes catches me off guard. But it’s what I see when I look her over completely that really throws me off. She’s not dressed up to go out at all. She’s in those ridiculously adorable fuzzy pants that she loves so much, and a lace undershirt.

Colored me puzzled, because I have not a damn clue as to what is going on. Did she just feel like blowing me off? I mean she could’ve just said she didn’t want to go out with me. So why run around? I mean she can’t possibly be going on a date…unless maybe he’s coming here? Is there really someone she’s that comfortable with that she’d hang out with him in her pajamas?

Bentley

There are few things I truly love; sunsets are one of them. I love how the sun paints the sky in a magical array of colors. It gives the illusion of some beautiful fantasy.

I thought he would come to the front door. I really should’ve known better though. I can tell the moment he’s within distance of me. I continue staring out the window as I take a deep breath, breathing him in. I love the way he smells. I used to tell him that daily, so the fact that he hasn’t changed makes me smile. When he begins to cross into the room, I feel it. It’s like his feet cause a static electricity that travels across the carpet and tingles my toes that are dangling down, swinging across the floor.

“You shouldn’t be here,” I say. It’s a lie though. I do have plans tonight. I was supposed to stock up on Valentine’s themed horror flicks, chocolate, and wine with Maddie and Dante. They ditched me though, for some chick flick playing at the theater. I offered to tag along but they both gave me a bunch of lines that left me with a suspicion that they are up to something.

“I know. I’m sure your date will be less than appreciative to find another man here, but I needed to see you. I have to know that you’re really okay. I need to hear it from you, Bentley, that you’ve moved on and that this is what you really want.”

I laugh, not at the sentiment behind his words, but at the idea that he really thinks I could ever move on. I’ve never wanted anyone until him, and I can’t really see myself every wanting anyone else. Besides, I have a sneaky suspicion that Tristan Reece would be one hard fucking act to follow.

“Mmm...Yeah...my hot date. You're right. I don’t know if he’ll appreciate you being here. He’s kind of the jealous type. The last time he saw a guy enter my home, he damn near broke my door down. I’m pretty sure he fucked me into oblivion on our next date though,” I quip, while recalling the memory of him trying to plow through my door looking for Cage. Of course, Cage was there to see Lith, but Tristan is a hothead who likes to react first and answer for it later.

Getting up from the window sill, I watch as he stalks toward me with feline grace. I swear he was a cheetah or something in a previous life. The man does everything with deadly precision.

“I don’t recall ever telling you that you could walk the fuck away, Bentley. I told you. You. Are. Mine. I don’t intend on ever letting you fucking go. So if there is someone else you want, you better kick my ass out that door before he gets here. Otherwise, one of us isn’t making it back out. I have every intention of playing for fucking keeps before you hightail your ass out of town,” he growls.

I take the few steps forward to close the distance between us. I can feel the heat radiating off his skin and it sends a shiver straight through me.  I’ve seen a lot of sides to Tristan, but I’ve never known him to be so possessive. I always just thought eventually he’d grow bored of me. That I was just some phase he needed to fuck out of his system.

“Don’t play the fucking dumb card with me, you pretentious asshole, and don’t you dare try patronizing my actions. I did what was right for both of us whether you choose to believe it or not. You know damn well there has never been anyone else. After all, you had your cousin spying on me for how long? And if I’m not mistaken, you’ve managed to get Marco in on your little schemes as well,” I chide.

He doesn’t say another word before he grabs the front of my shirt and pulls me up against him. I wrap my arms around his neck and lace my legs around his hips as he lifts me up. He takes my steps two at a time as I hold on tight. I don’t bother to ask what he thinks he’s doing. I already know, and damn if I don’t want it just as much.

Chapter 17

Tristan

“I owe you an apology,” she states, while staring straight ahead. “I never should have just left. I should have waited until you got back and then let you know I was going. I didn’t…I never wanted you to have to worry about me.”

I laugh at her logic. Does she really believe it would have made a difference if she left before I got home or after? Either way, she would have been fucking gone. I kneel down so that I’m eye level with her, so that she can’t avoid this confrontation. “It wouldn’t have mattered when you left, Bentley. You didn’t think I could fucking protect you. You didn’t even give me the chance.”

“It wouldn’t have made a difference, Tristan,” she says as she fights back the tears trying to escape. “You were nothing more than ammunition, fuel to feed her fire. She would have killed you just to watch it destroy me, and it would have. It would have fucking killed me to know your life was forfeited because of me. So yes, I would have rather lived a life where I couldn’t be with you, than to live a life where I know there was no chance I’d ever see you again.”

“She’s gone, Bentley, and I’m not going anywhere. You don’t get to fucking run away from me anymore,” I say while lifting her chin and forcing her to see me. “You’re mine, Bentley. You were always meant to be mine, and nothing is going to take you away from me again.”

I barely get the last word out before her lips are slamming against mine, returning a hunger only she has ever satisfied.

I don’t know how far she is willing to go, but I know I never want to stop. Her skin is still cool from sitting next to the window. Looking around her room,I grab the throw that’s draped across a chair and lay it a few feet from the fireplace
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Thankfully, her floor is a nice plush carpet. Otherwise, this would be fucking uncomfortable. I watch as she walks over to where I’m sitting and stops at the edge of the blanket. She’s toying with me, but she has no idea just how little restraint I have at the moment. Grabbing her hand, I pull her down and quickly maneuver her under me. I try moving slow, which fucking kills me. I don’t want to waste time, but I know if she needs me to, no matter how bad it sucks, I’ll stop. I won’t hurt her, and I won’t lose her trust me in over one weak fucking moment.

I use one of my knees to push her legs apart, and keep it there as I lean down to kiss her. Mere moments pass before we both lose our self- control. As soon as my lips meet hers, her hands are pulling and tugging to get my shirt over my head. I move my hand down and pull at the fabric of her pants as she bucks her hips making it easier for me to push the fabric down her thighs and off her legs. She then sits up, allowing me to pull the thin shirt off of her.

As she lies back on the blanket, I admire the view beneath me. Bentley has never been one to match her bra to her panties, but this set she’s wearing is fucking sexy. It’s red with silver and rhinestones swirl through the fabric, much like the dress she was wearing the day before, and I can’t help thinking this little ensemble was worn for me.

Standing up, I undo my belt and as she watches my every move. I’m not sure if it’s a good idea to take my pants off just yet, but she makes the decision for me as she sits up on her knees and pops the button. I don’t fucking move as she slides the zipper down, then uses both hands to pull my pants to down to my ankles. I step out and kick them away, still remaining in front of her. She looks up at me momentarily, not the slightest bit surprised I went commando, and I wonder what she’s about to do.

She doesn’t keep me guessing for long as she wraps her hand as far as she can around my girth and begins to stroke. I remain still as I watch her movements as with another couple of stokes, pre-cum beads at the tip of my cock. She squeezes lightly on my dick before flicking her tongue across the opening, and I try hard to suppress the groan that escapes my throat. I know this is new to her, and it’s something we’ve never tried. She continues to stroke my length then runs her tongue across the vein on the underside. When she reaches the head again, she wraps her lips around it and sucks it into her mouth, then continues to take as much of me in as she can without gagging, all the while continuing to stroke with one hand while working my length with her tongue and lips.

She brings her other hand up and starts massaging my balls and the sensations are fucking bliss. She creates a rhythm that is pure fucking torture as she uses her mouth to fuck me. I bury my fingers in her hair, tugging on it as her head bobs, increasing her speed.  As her tongue twirls around my shaft, she continues sucking on my cock as if she’s sucking on her favorite lollipop. I momentarily forget who I’m with as I pull her closer, forcing her to take me even deeper. She squeezes on my balls lightly and I Iook down to watch as she works my cock like a porn star. It’s the most erotic thing I’ve ever seen, the sight of Bentley’s lips wrapped around my cock, as she takes me deep. I feel my dick twitch and my balls begin to tighten seconds before I push her mouth away from me. As badly as I want to come, I don’t want it to be in her mouth. I need it to be while I’m buried deep inside of her.

I kneel down on my knees and slip both of my thumbs through the sides of panties tugging them down, then reach around her and unhook her bra before tossing it aside. Leaning over her, I guide her body back down onto the blanket before I finish removing her panties. She lifts her legs so I can pull them off and I take one in my hand and spatter kisses across her skin from her ankle to the top of her thigh and then do the same with the other leg. Only this time, I don’t stop at her inner thigh and give her no warning as I bury my face in her pussy.

She’s fucking intoxicating, and I missed the taste of her. I missed how her body begs for me. How she arches her back and grinds her hips into my face. Her legs close in around my head as I suck on her clit. I give a stinging slap to her ass and her legs fall back open. I continue to circle her clit until her breathing grows heavy, then run my tongue between her lips until it’s pressed against her opening. I dart my tongue into her pussy and am met with the sweet taste that is all Bentley. I have memorized that fucking taste, and now that I have it again, it’s like a fucking addiction. I continue to fuck her with my tongue as she moans my name.

I move my assault back to her clit and give it a nip before burying two fingers deep inside of her. Her hips buck and I use my other hand to hold her in place. I build her up, licking and sucking on the hood, before biting it lightly, flattening my tongue I lick the length of her pussy, from bottom to top, making sure to catch the juices my onslaught produces. It isn’t until she is on the brink of orgasm that I pull away. Her lips are parted, her chest is heaving and her eyes are hooded as she watches me. I’m ready to bury myself in her, but I want to know how she wants it. “Tell me Bentley, do you want to watch yourself as I make you come? Or would you rather me watch you?”

I view her intently as her breath hitches; she leans forward and wraps her hand around the back of my neck, pulling me to her. I damn near fucking lose it when she sucks herself off of my lips, then sucks my tongue into her mouth. I push her back and in one swift motion bury myself balls deep inside of her. I forgot how fucking tight she is, even with her pussy drenched she’s tight around me.

I give it a minute for her to adjust to my size again before I start moving in and out. She digs her heels into the back of my legs, trying to push me in even further. I start to increase my speed and deepen the kiss even more. It’s as if we trying to brand each other. I love the feel of fucking her bare. Since I know she hasn’t been with anyone else, I don’t have to worry about remembering a condom.  I can feel myself getting lost inside her and I pound faster and harder. Her nails dig into my back and I know she’s getting close.  She lifts her hips to meet each of my thrusts and my balls slap against her ass as I fuck her hard. I told her I planned on fucking her until she couldn’t even crawl away from me, and I plan on making good on that promise right now. I pull out until just the head of my cock is still inside of her, then slam my dick once again into her wet warmth. Her cries of pleasure are the fucking fuel I need to push me over the edge. I balance on one hand as I continued to hammer into her, while I use my thumb to draw circles across her clit.

I can feel how close she is to her orgasm as her muscles begin to clench around my cock causing an even sweeter friction. I apply more pressure to her clit and once again increase my pace. Giving her clit a pinch, I send her over the edge. I’m fucking possessed at the sound of her screaming my name as she comes on my dick.

Moving to hover back over her, I once again slam into her as she wraps her legs around me, keeping me as close against her as possible. The muscles lining her wall are contracting in small spasms and squeezing my cock in just the right away. I feel myself stiffen as I thrust once more before coming deep inside of her. Her orgasm continues to milk my cock as I fuck her into oblivion.

By the time it’s all over, neither of us can move. I’m lying twisted at an angle so I’m not crushing her. She’s turned into me, my cock still buried inside of her as it starts to grow soft. If I did my job, there is no way she’ll be able to get up and walk. I don’t ever want to move. I want to stay just like this inside of her. There’s a fairly good chance she’s going to be sore in the morning. A bath would help ease the aches, but I’m not willing to chance it. I don’t want her associating love making with something that hurt her so I’ll just have to find a way to make the shower help.

Bentley

I don’t want to move once Tristan is done with me. I ache in all of the right ways. He left the room a couple of minutes ago, and I’m still in the exact same spot. When he comes back in the room, he’s sporting that Cheshire grin I love so damn much. My guess is he discovered my insanely huge shower with its waterfall cascades and shower nozzles in every direction.

He wraps an arm under my legs and curls the other around by lower back as he lifts me off the blanket. It’s one of the things I adore about him. He can be a total bad ass when he needs to be and kick the ever loving shit out of anyone who fucks with him, but when he comes to me, it’s like he flips a switch. He should be intimidating; he towers over me like a fucking giant, and the muscles in his arms could probably crush me. Yet I’m not even the slightest bit afraid of him. I’m the exact opposite; he’s the one person who makes me feel safe and guarded.

As he runs the soapy bath sponge against my skin, I realize the only thing I fear now is losing him. I fear that after all of the shit I’ve caused him to go through, and all of the shit he’s endured with me that he’ll decide I’m not enough for him and walk away. After all, he had me in his arms Christmas Eve and he left. He never even bothered to tell me why. For months,I had no idea where he was or what he was doing
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No matter how many times he tells me he isn’t leaving, I’m not sure I believe it. I just can’t convince myself that this is the real deal. My mind is stuck in some kind of holding pattern.

“Tell me what’s going through that pretty head of yours baby? You’ve got storms in your eyes, and I don’t like it,” he says.

I want to confess my fears, but I know that he’ll just tell me I’m being irrational or emotional. There is no point in arguing with him. He is a master at making sure he gets his point across.

“Why did you leave?” I ask. It’s only part of what’s wrong, but it’s easier than explaining what is really bothering me. “After Christmas Eve, why did you leave again? You had been watching me. There’s no other way you could have known I was eyeing that bracelet. Why do all of that just to take off without saying a word?”

I turned away from him, not wanting him to see how much asking that hurt.

“I had to, Bentley.” He confesses. “It wasn’t because I didn’t want you, or us, or anything like that, so stop thinking whatever fucked up shit is going through your head. Aggie had a stroke that night. Cage called me and I didn’t think twice. She needed me. She has been the one person who has always been there for me and the moment that she needed me I wasn’t there. I hopped the next flight and didn’t leave her side until she was 100% again. I would still be there if she hadn’t threatened to beat some sense into me. Aggie reminded me that no matter where I felt I belonged, where my sense of duty believes I should be, I’d never be happy when my heart was someplace else. So I came back here for you, Bentley. I know you took it hard, and I’m sorry I didn’t call and explain, but I just couldn’t find the words. I didn’t want you to think that Aggie is more important to me than you. I know it was a mistake, but I don’t believe for one second that’s what’s really bothering you.”

I don’t want to lie to him so I just stay quiet. He’ll know I’m lying anyway. Apparently, I have a really shitty poker face. When we finish washing up, I’m exhausted and want nothing more than to crawl into bed. Tristan seems to have other plans though
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The last thing I want to do is get dressed and he knows it, so we compromise. I get to wear another pair of fluffy fleece pants and a hoodie and he gets to not bitch about it. Although when I slip on a pair of toe socks, he starts laughing, and bites his tongue as I give him the stink eye.

The temperature has dropped several degrees in the time we were upstairs, and the last thing I want to do is venture outside. Why I can’t just stay in the warmth of my nice cozy house is beyond me. He seems intent on punishing me in some way by dragging my less than happy ass through the garden
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As we come to the wrought iron fence that separates the garden from the beach I look at him curiously. I still haven’t made it down there yet since whenever I make plans, Mother Nature chooses that day to be a fickle twat and either makes it rain or snow on my intentions.