Crash Into Me (10 page)

Walking
back to his bedroom, which while attractive was possibly the least appealing
room in the entire home, I made up my mind to choose a piece of art that would
reflect him, not just look good or expensive. He sat still waiting for me on
the bed, looking almost uncomfortable in his own house.

"Tristan,
did you have this decorated when you moved in?"

I
was almost sure the answer would be no, but I had to know. I don't think I'd
ever seen a home so completely unrepresentative of its owner.

Shaking
his head, he said, "No. It just comes with the job."

"No
wonder nothing here is like you. I mean, it's gorgeous, especially the
bathroom, but nothing about this place says you live here."

"So,
have you thought about what might work on this wall?"

"No,
but I know I want it to be something that says 'Tristan Stone lives here'
instead of something so gorgeously common and expensive that it could be in
anyone's home."

"And
what would this piece say about me?" he asked, his interest obviously
piqued.

"The
man who lives here is intelligent—a man of few words but those he does speak
are meaningful."

"I
knew I'd like your choices in this. I look forward to seeing what you have to
offer, Nina. I'll leave you to your work and be back at five sharp. My hotel
and my home are at your disposal. When you get hungry, simply call the
concierge and they'll take care of you."

He
stood and I moved to kiss him, as I would any other boyfriend of mine who was
leaving for work, but he merely nodded and silently walked by me as I stood
watching him leave. All I could guess was that I was truly on the job now.

Chapter Nine

By
five o' clock, I'd narrowed the potential choices for Tristan's room to three,
and I was surprisingly tired. While I hadn't done any physical work at all, my
mind had been working overtime all day about what piece would be perfect for
the man who lived in this expensively furnished yet characterless penthouse. I
wanted it to be perfect. I wanted to show him that he hadn't made a mistake
having faith in me. Most of all, I wanted to give him something that would show
what he was in my eyes.

He
returned right on time at five sharp looking exactly as he had when he'd left
all those hours earlier. Never wrinkled or rumpled, he looked as he always did
in his suit, even though that day's was black instead of the variety of shades
of grey he tended to wear. The tan dress shirt was different too, but whatever
he wore, he looked gorgeous.

"Did
you have a good day at work?" Tristan asked in a teasing voice as he
walked into the bedroom loosening his tie. 

"I
did, dear. And how was your day at work?" I asked as I sat on the bed
watching him get more comfortable.

"You
know how it is. Another day, another dollar."

Opening
the closet, he removed his suit coat and tie and turned to face me once again
in just pants and a shirt. "What would you like for dinner?"

"Don't
you want to know about the choices I have in mind for your blank spot?" I
was eager to see what he thought about my ideas.

He
shook his head. "No. Once five comes, I don't want to think about work
anymore. All I want to think about is you. I don't want you thinking about work
anymore either."

Jesus,
when he said things like that, my stomach did somersaults. He didn't want to
hang out and watch TV. He didn't want to play video games. He didn't want to go
to some place with his friends and never consider if I wanted to really go.

He
wanted to think about me. Just me.

I
was lost. And damn, I didn't want to be found.

He
knelt in front of me, running his hands over my thighs and nearly driving me
crazy with his touch. "So what should we have to eat? One of your
favorites or something new you've never had? Feeling adventurous?"

He
looked up at me, his eyes searching mine. The old me, the me before I met
Tristan, would have chosen one of my favorites, but as he knelt there looking
up at me, I wanted to be someone different than who I'd always been. I wanted
to be worthy of feeling sexy and desirable.

"Let's
try something adventurous."

"Next
question—eat in or out?" he asked as he dipped his head to place a single
kiss on the inside of my thigh.

My
head was swimming, but I found the ability to squeak out, "In."

He
nipped at my skin, sending shivers of pleasure racing up my body. Against my
leg, he murmured, "In it is," before he stood and disappeared from
the room. A rush of heat covered me and I crashed back onto the bed, barely
able to breathe.

The
way he was made me crazy. Crazy for him. Crazy because of him. Fucking crazy.
He'd left this morning without a word or even a gentle brush of his hand
against mine to say goodbye, and he'd returned wanting nothing but me. What was
with this guy? How did he do it? I could barely keep my hands off him, and
there were times he stood close enough to touch me and never did.

It
was maddening. And I loved it. Without force or any restraints, he'd taken over
my every thought and feeling, and I was helpless to fight against it. Hell, I
didn't want to fight against it. I wanted to let my mind and body give in to
everything he offered.

"I
ordered seared duck," he whispered as he slid up my body until his lips
met mine in a gentle kiss. "I wasn't really in the mood for too much
adventure in my food tonight. Do you like duck?"

"I've
never had it. What does it taste like?"

"Chicken."

I
opened my eyes at his answer. "Really?"

Smiling,
he licked his lips and kissed me again. Against the corner of my mouth, he
whispered, "No."

"Oh.
Will I like it?"

He
hovered above me looking down into my eyes. "Yes, I promise you'll love
it. My chef makes it with a fig sauce that tastes incredible."

"Are
we going down to the restaurant to eat?" I asked, praying to God he'd say
no.

He
moved his body up mine until his mouth was next to my ear. "We can, if you
want. Do you want to leave, Nina?" His voice was a slow whisper that made
a delicious ache coil in my belly, and I would have given everything I owned to
not leave that spot.

"No,"
I said quietly as he pushed his hips forward, sliding his hard cock against my
panties. "I think here is perfect."

"Good.
Have anything in mind for what we should do until dinner comes?" he
murmured in my ear as he pushed his hips toward me again.

"You're
such a tease."

He
lifted his head and smiled that wicked smile I'd only seen once or twice.
"Tease? You want me to tease you?"

"No.
I hate being teased."

Tristan
rolled off me and propped his head up with his hand. He looked down at me,
still smiling, and ran his finger over my lips. "You're cute when you
pout."

Cute.
That was definitely not what I wanted to be thought of. Cute was for puppies,
kittens, and little girls. Now I really pouted.

"Oh,
more pouting. I must have said something wrong. Let me guess. You don't want me
to call you cute."

He
was teasing me, and I didn't like it. "I'm glad I'm amusing you, Tristan.
Maybe I can dress up like some little girl and you can pick on me like some
bully on the playground."

"Someone's
touchy tonight."

That
was it. I didn't like this Tristan. He reminded me too much of every other guy
in the world. That bothered me. He was supposed to be more, better. Now he was
nothing but a guy who seemed to have forgotten how to treat me.

I
sat up and stood from the bed. "I'm going to take a bath. Let me know when
the food gets here."

As
I walked toward the bathroom, I felt like crying. I didn't know why either. I
knew I was probably overreacting, but something in Tristan seemed less special
now, and I hated that. If he was just an ordinary guy with lots of money, then
somehow I felt less, like I'd let myself be fooled.

I
slid into the tub and let the water run until it nearly overflowed. I wanted to
get lost in that water until everything around me disappeared. Behind me through
the massive windows the scenes of the city played out, but I didn't want to see
them either. I just wanted to close my eyes and pretend nothing had happened.

The
water soothed my body, but my head and heart still ached. I sat there with the
bath water up to my chin and fought back the recriminations. My insecurities
had reared their ugly heads again, and as the water cooled around me, I
silently admitted that this wasn't about Tristan.

This
was about me. This was about my feeling like I didn't belong here, just like
I'd felt that first night when I'd flubbed Tristan's test.

I
heard the door open, and he walked silently past me. I didn't want to open my
eyes, hoping that if I didn't, I wouldn't have to see the look on his face.

Tristan
crouched down behind me and slid his hands over my shoulders. "Nina, I'm
sorry. I didn't mean anything by what I said."

That
only made it worse. I had caused the problem and now he was apologizing.
"Don't. It was all me."

I
opened my eyes and looked down at his hands stroking my arms. This situation
was desperately in need of some lightening. "This is some bathtub. I think
my dorm room was this size."

He
chuckled behind me and slipped his hands from my body. "And I bet you
shared a room too."

Leaning
back to look at him, I watched as he stepped out of his pants and boxers,
leaving them in a heap on the floor. I moved forward in the tub to accommodate
his body, sending water flowing over the sides, and he slid into the water
behind me, taking me into his arms.

Still
hoping to lighten the mood, I joked, "I don't remember being this close to
my roommate in college. Maybe our dorm room was a little bigger."

Water
sloshed against the sides of the tub and more spilled out onto the floor as he
wrapped his legs around me. All the times we'd been together, I'd never noticed
how long his legs were. They barely fit inside the tub.

"Do
you know this is my first time in this bathtub?"

"That
makes sense since your legs are almost too long for it."

I
ran my palms over his knees and down his shins, feeling the soft hair against
my skin. I'd always loved how masculine men's legs looked when there wasn't too
much hair so they looked like grizzly bears or too little that I'd wonder if my
legs had more when I forgot to shave for a few days. His had the perfect amount
in all the right places.

"I
think the designer naturally thought we'd sit the other way since the real view
is out the window," he said as he moved my hair off my shoulder. "I
like this way better."

"Staring
at an empty shower?"

He
gently pulled my head back to rest on his chest and ran his fingertips across
my forehead. "With you."

Two
words and he made me want to forget all my insecurities, all my worries about
not being enough. He kissed the top of my head, and almost as if he could read
my mind, whispered, "I like how you make me feel, Nina."

I
said nothing, knowing he probably wanted to hear me say I liked how he made me
feel. I wanted to say something—to tell him that I'd never felt anything like
how he made me feel—but I couldn't. If he rejected me there, as I sat naked in
his arms, or worse, said nothing in return, everything I feared would finally
be true. I couldn't handle that.

His
arm rested across my collarbone, and I bent my head to place a kiss on his
wrist. I hoped he understood how much I loved hearing that I made him feel
something good or special. Closing my eyes, I let myself enjoy his body pressed
against mine and his strong arms around me. We sat so still the water stopped
moving, as if we both wanted to stop time and just revel in this one moment.
Finally, he sighed deeply and a tiny ripple slowly moved the water forward
until it lapped against the front of the tub and the tops of our feet.

"I
could sit here for the rest of time," he whispered in a faraway voice.

I
brought his fingers to my mouth and kissed the fingertip of his forefinger,
which had begun to wrinkle in the water. "I think you'd get all
pruney."

He
chuckled and kissed the top of my head again. "Then we'd be pruney
together."

No
matter how I tried to make the situation light and easy, he always brought it
back right to center, right to the core of who he was. Either he said little
and indicated less, or he spoke and made me want to forget everything else in
the world but him.

He'd
been right about the duck. It was delicious, and I did love it. I wondered if
things happened the way he wanted them to simply out of his sheer desire to
have them happen that way. Some people seemed to be able to manifest their
desires like that. In the short time I'd known him, it had merely taken him
expressing his wish for something to make it occur. Over and over, I'd seen him
get what he wanted, but I couldn't say it was due to power or manipulation.

Life
just seemed to give him what he desired.

And
what he desired that night was me. We'd barely pushed aside the plates when his
mouth was on mine, urging me to meet his passion with my own. My body was
thrilled, but my mind found his changeable ways confusing. As we'd eaten, he'd
said no more than five words, acting more like my boss than my lover. When I
expressed how much I liked the duck, he merely smiled, saying nothing in return
and continuing to eat. Then, like someone had turned on a light inside him, he
looked over at me and he was that man who couldn't get enough of me again.

He
led me over to stand in front of the floor to ceiling windows in the living
room, and the view of the city below took my breath away. I stood just inches
away from the wall of glass, my usual fear of heights pushed aside by the
beauty of what lay before my eyes. High above Manhattan, the entire city seemed
to be laid out in all its glory. "It's gorgeous, Tristan. It must be
impossible to get to sleep knowing this is here all for you to see every
night."

His
arms held me tight, and he looked up from kissing my neck. "I never look
at it, to be honest."

Turning
in his hold, I said, "How can you not? It's so stunning."

He
kissed me on the lips and pushed my hair behind my ear. "I don't have the
artistic eye like you do. It just seems like a million little ants scurrying
around to me."

I
traced a line from his Adam's Apple to the hollow right above his sternum,
drawing circles in that place where his skin was so soft. His pulse beat
lightly under the skin, and I stared at the gentle throbbing against my
fingertip. "Everyone has the ability to see beauty. It's just a matter of
letting it in. There's beauty in everything. That's art."

"I
doubt that."

I
looked up, intent on proving I was right. "Do you see where my finger is?
Just under the skin is evidence of your heart beating. It's just a tiny
pulsation, but it's beautiful."

"And
this is art?" he asked, not convinced.

"What's
more beautiful than the beating of the human heart?"

He
took my finger from his neck and kissed it. "I knew it from the first time
I saw you. There's something special in you, something light and good that drew
me to you."

His
words made me blush, and I felt my cheeks warm. No one had ever spoken to me
like this before, and to have someone who could have anyone in the world as he
could say this to me was thrilling and overwhelming at the same time. My
emotions became jumbled again, and before I knew it, words were spilling out of
my mouth letting him know everything in my heart.