The VIP Room (19 page)

For once, I decided to make an impulsive decision. I wanted to do something a little crazy, something with consequences if it didn’t work out. But at least I could say I tried. At least, I wouldn’t feel this pounding, frantic regret in the pit of my stomach later down the road.

Fumbling with the door, I rushed out onto my porch. Tristan was just getting into the driver’s seat of his car, but when he saw me coming out to meet him, he paused and straightened.

Striding up to him, I saw him raise a brow before I reached up and pulled his head down to me. Our lips met. Tristan’s surprise lasted only a few seconds before he groaned and pulled me against the length of his body, cupping his hands around my hips.

He felt so good. He
tasted
so good. I wound my hands in his dark, thick hair, bringing him closer. That constant underlying tension between us sparked and caught a blaze.

This thing between us could backfire at any moment. I knew that. And yet, I couldn’t stop kissing him.

When we finally broke away, breathing hard and clothes wrinkled, he murmured, “Is that your answer?”

“Yes,” I whispered, smiling.

“Good.” He kissed me again before pulling away. “How about tomorrow night?”

“You don’t waste any time, do you?”

“No.” He gave a shameless grin. “I don’t want to give you the chance to change your mind.”

“I won’t. Promise,” I told him softly. “And tomorrow night sounds great.”

That familiar look stole over his face. That look that gave me shivers and flutters and made me feel warm. That look that said I was in trouble when it came to this man…

“Good,” he whispered.

And then he kissed me again.

T
he kiss soon turned heated
. The night air was chilly against my bare arms, but Tristan pressed me closer to him and I forgot about it. I was surrounded by his warmth, that was all I needed.

He was irresistible to me. I was quickly figuring that out. Even when I’d been hurt and upset, there was still that desire for him whenever we were together. Like magnets. Polar opposites that still came together.

I told myself that sex would be a bad idea tonight, especially when he’d just asked me out to a ‘business dinner.’ It didn’t stop the warmth from pooling between my thighs at the feel of his body against mine. It didn’t stop my rapidly increasing heartbeat or the soft moans that fell from my lips as he stroked my tongue with his own.

Tristan was responding. He was hard against me, long and thick. A tortured groan escaped him when I rolled my hips into his cock. He pulled away. “We shouldn’t do this, Noelle.” Even as he said the words, I could see the torn expression on his features. He was desperate for me…and desperation was one thing I’d never thought I’d see on Tristan.

Fuck it
, I thought. I was already doing this. I was already risking a lot.

“I want you though,” I whispered, tugging at his tie. “Come inside.”

He moaned and, after a brief moment of hesitation, he followed me back to my house. Once in the entry way, after I closed the front door and locked up for the night, his lips returned to mine and he grabbed a fistful of my hair, tilting my head back so he could have complete and total control. Gasping, I allowed it…was aroused by it. This was a man who did things his way…who knew what he wanted and took it. I was only too happy to surrender to him.

His kiss was hungry, ravenous. He delved into my mouth, stroking every inch with his tongue, before nibbling on my bottom lip.
Damn
, this man could kiss. I could get addicted to kisses like this. And the rational part of my mind told me that becoming addicted, craving this, might not be a good thing.

My shirt was dropped onto the floor. My jeans followed until I was just in a simple black bra and my underwear.

We were heading to the living room, but the thought of having sex on my grandmother’s couch made me cringe, so I led him instead to my bedroom, just down the hall. Tristan brought his head up from my lips to look around my room, but I didn’t give him much time before I turned greedy again.

My hands pushed away his suit jacket and fumbled with the buttons of his shirt before I let out a frustrated moan. Tristan grinned and swatted my hands away playfully. “I’ll get these. You work on my slacks.”

I was only too happy to comply. My hands immediately reached for his black leather belt and when I got that undone, I unbuttoned his slacks, pushing them away and onto the floor. I didn’t bother asking this time around whether he wanted them hung up. I didn’t care anymore. I just needed him.
Now
.

Tristan got his shirt off in record time and I was greeted with the sight of his bronzed chest and, with a glance down, the impressive bulge of his erection. He forced me to sit on the edge of the bed and I watched as he slipped his fingers inside his briefs and pulled them down, his perfect cock springing free.

Last time, I hadn’t gotten a good look of him since he kept his slacks on and he’d entered me from behind in those first moments. But now…my mouth watered. He was utterly perfect. Thick and long. The tip of his cock was an angry red and the arousing sight made my pussy throb, a dull ache that was begging to be attended to.

I wanted to taste him. I wanted to take his perfect cock in my mouth and suckle on him until he lost control. What would it be like driving such a powerful and in control man to the very edge of ecstasy and madness? One day I would, I promised myself.

Before I could try, however, Tristan dropped to his knees on my carpeted floor and pressed close. He grasped my ankles and forced me to spread my legs wide, before he draped them over his broad, warm shoulders.

“What are you thinking right now?” I couldn’t help but ask when I saw a look of intensity on his features. The feeling of him literally between my thighs was incredible. I could feel the heat radiating off his bare chest.

Tristan reached forward and tugged the cups of my bra down so he could expose my breasts. The position of the bra pushed them up even more, as if they were begging for his kiss, his touch.

“I’m thinking about eating your pussy until you come all over my tongue,” he whispered, green eyes ablaze with lust. “I’m thinking about doing this,” he said, before bringing his mouth to my breasts, sucking one nipple deep.

“Oh yes,” I whispered, my head falling back from the pleasure of it all. His stubble scraped the sensitive flesh of my breast, but it only helped to increase the sensation.

He nipped at my nipple, just a light bite that made me yelp and moan all at once. He grinned and switched sides. He tortured me for a little while until I was tugging at his hair, convinced I was about to go mad if he continued any longer.

“What do you want me to do, sweetheart?” he asked me, his voice rough and deliciously husky. “You want me to lick your pussy? Want me to suck your sweet clit until you come?”

“Yes,” I moaned. “Please.”

“Ask me then. Beg me to do it,” he murmured, his eyes taking me in, from my flushed and rosy nipples to the way I was biting my lip.

“Lick my pussy, Tristan,” I whispered, only slightly embarrassed by the dirty words. My past boyfriends had never been real talkers in bed, so this was new for me. “Please suck on my clit.”

Tristan’s eyes flashed and he groaned. I looked down between our bodies and saw his cock jump in excitement, pre-cum already wetting the tip.

He leaned up and captured my lips in a brutal kiss. “I love your filthy mouth, sweetheart,” he growled.

And then he was peeling off my panties, kissing my inner thigh as he teased them oh so slowly down my legs. It was maddening and I grasped at his hair, bringing him closer to where I wanted his kiss.

His tongue lapped at me once, then twice, then three times, until I was moaning helplessly.

“Oh God,” I whispered, eyelids shutting. He kept at it, circling my clit with the tip of his tongue, flicking it this way and that until I was rotating my hips for more.

Tristan groaned. “Mmm, so sweet. Do you want more?” I could feel his hot breath drifting over my pussy, wet and aching.

“Yes. God, yes.”

I felt his finger slide between my lips, exploring me. Another digit soon joined it and he curled his fingers inside me expertly, finding a spot that drove me mad.

Oh my God.
Amazing
.

My head thrashed as pleasure reverberated to every nerve ending of my body. I was on the verge of coming already. I felt it build; every stroke of his finger and his tongue was heaven, bringing me closer and closer to the edge.

“No,” I breathed, trying to push him away. I gasped as he suckled on my clit, drawing the small bud between his lips. “Tristan, stop,” I huffed. “I’m gonna come.”

He laughed, drawing his head away from between my thighs, a dark grin on his features that made him seem even more gorgeous than usual. “Is that a bad thing?”

He liked dirty talk. So I gave it to him. “No, but I want to come on your cock.”

“Yeah?” he asked, eyes darkening.

“Yeah,” I whispered.

Tristan moved immediately. Rising from the carpet, his cock an even angrier red, he pushed me back so I was lying up near the headboard. Then, after retrieving a condom from his wallet, he crawled over me. His cock brushed my stomach as he sheathed himself, and I smoothed my hands over his strong chest, his back, his thighs as I waited. I just needed to touch him, anywhere I could. This god of a man was in my bed, about to give me another round of amazing sex. At this moment, I didn’t care about anything else. I didn’t care that he was now a client of mine. I didn’t care that we’d gotten off to a rocky start. All I cared about was getting him inside me, feeling him close to me.

He planted his left arm on the side of my head as he reached down and pressed himself against my opening. He teased me, letting the tip of his cock venture inside a few inches before retreating completely.

“Tristan,” I groaned, reaching down.

He stopped my hands before they touched him. Gruffly, he murmured, “Put your hands on the headboard and don’t move them unless I say you can. If you do, I’ll just have to tie you up instead.”

I’d never been tied up before. I’d never even really thought about it until he said something, but now the image was in my mind. And, surprisingly, I wanted it. I wanted to feel helpless and under his complete control. Perhaps not now, but eventually.

Looping my hands around the headboard, I bit my lip to hold back another moan as he teased me again. He kissed me, as if pleased, and rewarded me with more of his cock.

I took advantage of it and ground down, taking him until he was imbedded deep inside.

“Fuck,” Tristan bit out, jaw clenching. With an almost helpless growl, he gave me another thrust. My back arched at the sensation. “You’re gonna be a hand full, aren’t you?”

“Just fuck me, Tristan,” I whispered, eyes half lidded.

With a groan, he kissed me, giving my bottom lip a little nibble before doing what I asked. He covered me completely and started thrusting, rough and deep.

“Oh, yes,” I murmured. I moved with him, thrusting my hips to match his pace. We fit so perfectly; I could feel every delicious slide of his cock. My hands squeezed the headboard as he ducked his head to take a nipple between his lips. “Can I move my hands? I need to touch you.”

“Yes,” he hissed, slamming into me. “Touch me.”

Immediately, I brought my hands to arms, which were braced on both sides of my head. I could feel his bicep muscles moving, straining, coming alive. I moved my fingertips around to his back, feeling the flex of muscles there. It was incredibly arousing to be able to
feel
his magnificent body at work, pleasuring me.

“Look at me,” he ordered. My eyes flashed to his, remembering when he’d said something similar the first time we’d had sex. They were dark with lust. “God, you’re so fucking beautiful.”

I flushed even more than I already was at his compliment. And then I gasped because he changed his angle, so that the root of his cock ground into my clit on every thrust.

After only a few moments, I was on the verge of climax…and when he picked up his pace, riding me harder and harder, I was
there
.

He continued to drive his cock into me, furious and deep, leaving me suspended in the haze of intense pleasure for seemingly hours and hours on end. My back was arched, lips parted, but my eyes never left him and Tristan took it all in, eyes greedily roaming over my face, as if I were a beautiful painting he never wanted to forget.

Thirty seconds later, Tristan was coming. His head dropped into the crook of my shoulder and he groaned, harsh and loud, against my damp skin, hips bucking wildly as he released himself inside me.

When he was spent, he dropped his weight into me and I savored the feel of him, stroking the smooth skin of his back as he regained his breath.

I gazed up at the ceiling in a happy daze. Sex with him was beyond amazing. Fantastic. World-changing.

But, even as sated as I was, a little nagging voice in my head couldn’t help but worry. It had been great last time too, and the moment he’d pulled away, I’d been blindsided.

Tristan gave a tired groan and rolled off me. He slipped out of my body; a mild twinge of discomfort made me flinch, evidence of our rough, intense coupling.

I watched, holding my breath, as he slipped the condom off, wrapping it up in a clean tissue he found on my bedside table. Then he rolled over to me, saw me looking at him.

“What is it?” he murmured, his voice thick and gravelly.

“I…” I cleared my throat, hugging my arms over my breasts. “I was just worried that…”

Immediately, his eyes flashed in understanding. Frowning, he gathered me into his arms. “I’m sorry for that, Noelle. I was a jackass. It won’t happen again.” He tipped my chin back and gave me a deep, thorough kiss that washed away my doubts.

Well, most of them, at least.

“Can I ask you why?” I murmured, suddenly feeling shy. “It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me.”

“I think I owe you an explanation, don’t you?” he said, bringing me closer.

We were on our sides, facing each other. Our legs were tangled up in a content mess and I was warm from our combined body heat, even though it was a chilly October night and my heater wasn’t working properly.

In this moment, he wasn’t Tristan Blackwell, heir to the Blackwell fortune and the head of Blackwell Financial. No, he was just Tristan, the man who’d hurt me and then apologized and then given me the best sex of my life.

“I know nothing about you,” I whispered, stroking the tips of his hair lightly. “Other than what I’ve read online and in the press. I have no idea what makes you do the things you do or why…but I’d like to. I really would.”

He smiled a lazy smile and traced the sides of my face. “You Googled me?”

I flushed with embarrassment. “Yes.”

“I Googled you too.”

I let out a surprised laugh. “What did you find?”

“Not much. I found your bio from your firm and some client reviews about how amazing you are,” he teased.

“Good. I don’t like the idea of my entire life being displayed on the internet. How do you even deal with it all?” I asked.

“You get used to it.” He lifted an arm to push his hair back, bicep flashing. “What did you see?”

“Me,” I said, looking down at my sheets between us. “I saw a picture of us leaving
Valoir
. I read all about all your flings with models and socialites and how you had a girlfriend in Italy and London at the same time.”

“Do you actually believe in all that?” he asked, his eyes watching me closely.

I looked at him in all of his masculine beauty, with his stubble and mussed hair. “I
could
believe it. You’re not exactly hard on the eyes and you can be incredibly charming when you want,” I gave him a teasing smile but then it faded. “But…no, I don’t. If I did, you wouldn’t be here right now.”