Bad Things (Tristan & Danika #1)(63)

“*? You draw the line at saying pu**y?”

“Shut up.”

“And yes, I talk the whole time. Quietly. Or at least, I’m not shouting loud enough to bring the house down.”

“Shut up,” I told him again, blushing.

He just grinned, pushing down until his bare chest was rubbing against mine. “You tired, boo? Do you need some rest?”

My eyes widened. “Don’t you?”

“Sure. Eventually…”

“What does that mean? We couldn’t possibly…not again!”

He hitched up one muscular shoulder in a shrug, circling his hips to let me feel that, unbelievably, he could.

“How?”

“I just ate you out for ten minutes. It’s hard to stay unaffected by that.”

I hooked my legs around him, grinding against him. We were skin on skin, him teasing at my entrance, and it felt amazing.

I moaned loudly as he pushed in that first perfect inch.

He pulled out just as quickly, going for another condom, having to dig through the covers to find one. I watched him roll it on like he did it every day, which he probably did, which I didn’t let myself think about.

He moved back into position, easing into me, whispering rough, dirty, sweet things to me all the while. “You feel so good. So f**king tight. I’ll let you rest after this time, but don’t be shocked when you wake up with my dick inside of you sometime in the night.”

I gasped, my only reaction to his words, since I wasn’t coherent enough to actually speak as he rocked in and out of me, the strokes long and perfect, and so smooth, considering he stretched me with his every movement.

He pounded into me, harder and harder, not letting up, proving to me that I did like it rough, if Tristan was doing it.

“I’m coming. Are you close?” he demanded, pulling up to look at me, his face pained.

“Mmmm,” was the closest thing I had to an answer.

He reached between us, his finger finding and circling my clit with unerring accuracy. It was impressive, how familiar he was with the female body, and impossible to get upset about how he’d gotten so familiar as he rocked my world, yet again.

I came, a gasping, toe curling orgasm, and he was right there with me, biting my lower lip, and then moving to growl rough compliments into my ear that made my whole body flush with pleasure.

Unfortunately, I didn’t wake up with Tristan inside of me. We never got the chance, as tiny fists started beating on the locked door of my bedroom before six a.m.

I sat straight up, my eyes immediately shooting around the room, looking for clothes. I was decent by the time Tristan sat up, sheet falling to his waist, leaving his drool-inducing torso bare.

“I’ve got this,” I told him. “You can go back to bed. I just need to go make the boys breakfast, and turn on a show.”

I rushed into the bathroom before he could respond.

I exited the bathroom through the rarely used hallway door, being considerate, in case Tristan had already fallen back to sleep.

He hadn’t, and no sooner had I found a TV station with cartoons than he was in the kitchen, starting in on breakfast.

I got Mat settled, and approached the kitchen. I leaned a hip into the counter as he got about thirty ingredients out of the fridge, going all out as usual.

He set the eggs near the oven, strode to me, grabbed me by the hips, and lifted me onto the counter.

He cast a quick glance in Mat’s direction before slipping his hips between my legs. He pressed against me, and dipped his mouth down for a long, hot, drugging kiss.

He pulled back when we were both out of breath, straining hard against each other. “First chance I get,” he rasped into my ear, “I’m going to bend you over the nearest piece of furniture, and make you lose your mind again.”

I leaned back on my hands, eyes closed, as I let myself process that. So this wasn’t over. There was more to come…

He went back to the food, a grin on his face that would have been completely infuriating if it wasn’t also totally irresistible.

“Nothing to say to that, boo? No witty comebacks?”

“Good luck finding that chance,” was the best I could manage with my brain a messy puddle on the floor. “I’ve got the kids all day.”

“You want to bet me that I can’t?”

“Not really. You become completely unreasonable when you get a challenge in your head.”

“I’ll take that as a yes. What do I get if I win the bet?”

I couldn’t think of anything, so I just stared at him until he came up with something of his own.

“Restraints,” he said, very very quietly. “That’s what I get if I win. You come to my room, my bed tonight, and I get to use restraints on you.”

I should have been more alarmed at the prospect, considering my history, but I searched myself for the fear, and only came up with anticipation.

“And if I win, Tristan in a bikini, right?” I shot back, just as quietly.

“You’ve got a deal. I can’t f**king wait. Keep an eye on the stove for me. I need to go talk to Jerry.”

I glared, my mouth dropping open. “You dirty cheater,” I told him, outraged. “If you’re doing what I think you’re doing, that is cheating…”

He shrugged, heading down the hallway that led to Jerry’s room. “We didn’t set up rules. Don’t be a sore loser about this, boo.”