Accidental Tryst (Charleston #1)(76)

I watched his face contort in agonized bliss as he gave a final thrust, and it felt like the most erotic thing I'd ever seen. He was completely given over to the moment, lost in it, lost in me.

And yeah, I had to admit I was lost in him too. Utterly. And not just in the throes of release.

The realization formed a lump in my throat so suddenly I felt I couldn't breathe. I blinked rapidly and dragged his face down to my neck so he couldn't see my expression.

I kissed the side of his jaw, his temple, salty sweat coating my lips. And this was why I shouldn't have one-night stands—I just gave too much of myself. This time I feared I might have given away more than I had to give. And if Trystan freaked out again, which I was pretty certain he would, it was going to crush me.

"Wow." I forced a laugh and tried to keep it light. "You can rent my place anytime." Exactly the wrong thing to say. But it was out there now. And really, it didn't have to mean anything.

Trystan chuckled into my hair, his breathing still exerted. "Does it always come with these perks?"

There was no safe answer, so I strained around with my arm and smacked his naked butt.

He pulled up sharply, looking amused. "You putting spanking on the table?"

"Ha, ha," I returned. God, I wanted him to settle his weight on me forever. "Get up," I complained instead, "I can't breathe."

He frowned slightly and rolled to the side. "You okay?"

I stretched my mouth into a smile. "Never better. Two orgasms to start my day. Can't complain."

"Three counting last night," he said proudly. "It was after midnight."

I shifted in the bed, feeling uncomfortable and full of Trystan in more ways than one. "What time are you leaving?" I asked him.

I'd rather get it over with, rip the Band-Aid off, start the new phase of my life—Emmy 2.0—the version who'd now known epic sex and chemistry and massive crushing disappointment. Not that I hadn't known crushing disappointment before, but this felt different.

He laughed. "Trying to get rid of me already?"

"Ha." I looked away.

"Emmy, you sure you're okay?"

"Yep. Stop being so needy. I'm fine."

"Needy. Huh." He sat up and pulled on his jeans and went into the bathroom.

I pulled the comforter up to my shoulders.

The toilet flushed, and I heard the water run as I watched the sunlight through my blinds dapple against the white painted attic eaves. Then he came out. His face was closed. "Gonna run over to Armand's and get us coffees," he said. "How do you take yours?"

"Cream, no sugar," I said, propping up on an elbow. "Thank you."

"Same as me." He pulled on a white T-shirt that hugged the lines of his body. "I'll shower when I get back if that's okay. If you don't need to get rid of me too quickly."

I waited for a grin or a sarcastic smile but got none. And it suddenly occurred to me in my rush to protect myself, I may have offended him. "Sure," I said. "Of course. No rush." I opened my mouth to say more but couldn't.

He gave me a long look then turned and jogged down the stairs.

Shit. I lay back with a sigh. Maybe we were both pretty bad at this.

Ugh. I slipped out of bed and had a quick and thorough shower, then wrapping myself in a towel, went out to the bedroom.

Trystan wasn't back, or perhaps he was downstairs, so I hurriedly applied lotion and pulled on jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt.

Trystan's suitcase lay open at the end of the bed. I stared at it. How had I invited him so fully into my life? It was against everything I normally did. How did this happen?

I went downstairs.



* * *



Trystan sat at my dining table with his laptop open. He looked up as I descended and nodded at the paper cup of coffee on the kitchen counter. "Should still be hot."

"Thank you," I said gratefully. "How was Armand this morning?"

"Full of winks and innuendo, considering he knows where you spent the night."

"Ha. I bet. And I'm sure he was tired too, having to get up early to open the shop. He normally has help on the weekend mornings."

"So he's really not gay, huh?" Trystan asked.

I lifted a shoulder and propped my hip against the counter. "He's bi," I said, smiling as I remembered Trystan's reaction last night.

"Ah."

I popped the lid off my cup so I could blow on the top. "But I enjoyed your reaction."

"I enjoyed your dancing." Trystan looked up at me over the top of his laptop.

"Thank you." I looked away.

He blew out a breath. "So how are you spending your Saturday in this fair city?"

"Aha, you finally admit it's a city?"

"Getting there," he said and leaned back, clasping his hands behind his head.

"Today, I'm going to visit a couple of nursing homes to see about moving David. I have to move him by the end of next month."

"Why so soon?"

"The facility he's at doesn't have adequate dementia care. And after the fiasco this week . . . let's just say they are out of rope to give. He's on Medicaid so options are few and far between. I'm going to go and sweet talk the administrators, or beg and plead, maybe offer a kidney."