Black Heart (Cursed Hearts #1)(106)

It was after three in the morning and no one in her family would be foolish enough to let themselves in and take the chance of Tristan mistaking them for a burglar. Then again, after Beth had walked in on the two of them ha**ng s*x in the foyer two weeks ago, no one in their family came over without calling first anymore.

“Shit!” she hissed softly as she crawled out of bed and grabbed the baseball bat that she kept beneath her side of the bed. For all of about ten seconds she considered going downstairs and taking care of this problem herself and if wasn’t pregnant, and concerned about the baby getting hurt, she would have done just that.

Cursing Declean and Finn to hell, she grabbed her cell phone and quickly made her way to the walk-in closet. As quietly as she could, she opened the door and stepped inside. The walk-in closet hadn’t been a big deal to her when she’d moved in with Tristan, but right now she was glad that it was so large. There would be plenty of room to swing the bat if an intruder found her.

She opened her phone and called Tristan, hoping that he’d pick up.

“Hey, sweetheart, I-“

“Tristan, there’s someone in the house,” she whispered, cutting him off so that she could quickly get to the point and he could get his ass home where it belonged so that he could beat the shit out of anyone crazy enough to break into their house.

“Where are you?” he asked casually, too casually, she thought. Tristan was extremely overprotective of her. Something like this should have him flipping out and promising to send every cop on duty her way.

“In the closet with the baseball bat,” she said softly.

“Good. Okay, stay there I’ll be there as soon as I can,” he said quickly, hanging up on her before she could get the chance to point out that he was over three hours away.

She stared through the white paneled door. She could see bits and pieces of the room, but not much. At least she would be able to see if someone walked in. A creak from the direction of the bedroom door had her holding her breath. Oh God, he’s on the second floor! She gripped the baseball bat firmly and raised it, ready to start swinging.

The door to the bedroom opened and a large man walked inside. She couldn’t make out any features, just that he was large. He walked inside and moved around the room, taking his time. She held her breath while she watched him, praying that he would leave quickly. He turned and moved to walk back towards the door when he suddenly paused in front of the closet door.

He faced the closet. She gripped the bat tightly even as she willed him to turn back around and head for the door. Her jaw dropped in shock when the intruder began to disrobe. He dropped his shirt to the ground, slowly. When he undid his pants, revealing a pair of grey boxer briefs, a small gasp escaped her lips.

Tristan.

She would recognize that body anywhere.

That little bastard, she thought. Quietly, she put the bat down behind her. She slowly stepped back from the door and moved to the side where he wouldn’t be able to see her. On the shelf behind her, Tristan kept extra stuff for work, shoe polish, shoelaces, cleaning materials for his guns, a few pairs of cuffs, and a small metal flashlight.

Marty grabbed a set of handcuffs and the flashlight. As quietly as she could, she pulled the flashlight apart until all she had in her hand was the small metal tube. She squeezed back against the side of the wall and waited. He didn’t keep her waiting long. The door opened and he stepped inside, pausing to look down at the bat.

When he bent down and picked up the bat, she stepped up behind him and pressed the metal tube against his back. “Okay, ass**le, drop the bat.”

Slowly, he dropped the bat. “Now put your hands behind your back,” she ordered.

When he paused, she nudged the tube against his back until he moved to do what she wanted. Sighing heavily, he put his hands behind his back. With one hand, she cuffed both his hands together, careful not to pull too hard on his left arm.

“Okay, into the bedroom slowly and don’t turn around.”

After a slight pause, he walked into the bedroom. She moved with him, keeping a hand on his cuffs and the tube.

“I guess I should call the cops now,” she said offhandedly.

Tristan didn’t say anything as he stood there, letting her call the shots. She took her hand off the cuffs and ran a finger teasingly down his back, making the muscles in his back tighten. She moved her hand down to his ass and squeezed. Every muscle in his body went rigid.

“It’s really a shame to waste such a great body.”

Biting her lip so that she wouldn’t laugh and give herself away, she moved her arm around his waist and pushed her hand into his briefs and when she found what she was after, she gave it a gentle squeeze, making him groan.

“A damn shame. My husband has a really nice body, but not as nice as yours. And this,” she ran her hand over him, making him moan, “he has nothing on you in this department.”

She pulled the pipe away. He tried to turn around, but she put a hand on his back to stop him. She dropped the pipe to the ground and slowly pulled his underwear down.

“I tell you what,” she said, playfully nibbling on his bottom before she stood up, “you do a little something for me and we’ll forget all about the police.”

He adjusted his feet, taking a deep ragged breath. Marty ran her hand over his back as she leaned closer and pressed a kiss between his shoulders. Her hands went around his stomach and chest.