Bad Things(128)



Tristan was lying on his back on the bed, wearing nothing but his boxers, an arm thrown over his eyes, as though he were sleeping. By the agitated movements of his chest, I knew that wasn’t the case.

A naked woman, some beyond trashy, slutbag blonde from hell, was straddling him. Her hands were running over his chest, tracing his tattoos.

I was absolutely frozen, in fury, in hurt, in outright disbelief, which was all that kept me from reacting too quickly, which turned out to be a good thing.

“If you don’t get off right this second,” Tristan growled from underneath the naked tramp, his voice sleepy, and irritated, and just plain mean. “I’m going to throw you off. I told you, I have a girlfriend.”

“She’s not here now,” the slut from hell purred, still running her hands over his chest. My chest. “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

That was my cue to shout, yes, you bitch, I am here, but some devil kept me silent. I sincerely wanted to see how this played out. I needed to see it.

“Well, then, since you apparently don’t have an ounce of pride or self-respect, let me spell it out for you. I don’t want you. I want you to leave my room and my apartment and never come back. I turned you down three times, and you still waited until I was passed out, and jumped me. How many times do I have to say it? I wouldn’t touch you if you were my only option, which you aren’t. Is that clear enough for you, or do you want me to try a different language now?”

He sounded mean, mean in a way I rarely heard from him. He was usually so amiable, bossy, yes, possessive, always, but usually just nice, and it was startling to hear his voice go pure mean.

Bimbo face seemed to get the hint, climbing off him with a pout on her face. “You’re no fun,” she muttered, “and I can tell that you wanted me. I got you hard.”

“Don’t take it personal. The f*cking wind blowing gets me hard. Now get out.”

She barely spared me a glance, but I had to stifle the urge to follow her and scratch her eyes out.

I stayed in the doorway, leaning against the frame of it while he sat up, rubbing his eyes. It took him a few quiet moments to notice me there.

When he did, he went white, as though he’d just seen a ghost.

He slid out of bed, moving to me, looking guilty as hell. If I hadn’t just heard the whole thing with my own ears, that look would have been enough to convict him. It was a good thing I’d kept my mouth shut and let it play out. Still, I was spitting mad. I was sick to death of shit like this always testing us. It just seemed to me, that if you valued a thing, you found ways to keep it from being compromised. Groupies in the apartment had been a bone of contention for a while now.

He was in just a pair of black boxers and so it was impossible to miss the fact that he had a raging hard-on. That was the last straw for me. I just couldn’t deal with this today, especially when I’d so been looking forward to a happy reunion, and not some disgusting groupie rubbing her naked body on him.

“I need to leave,” I told him, already backing out of the room. “I just can’t deal with this shit right now. I have enough on my plate already.”

He followed me, uncaring of the fact that he was practically naked, and sporting an obvious erection and the house was full of groupies.

“Danika, you have to believe me. Whatever you think that was—”

“I know what it was. I heard what it f*cking was, and I don’t care. I’m sick of this. If you cared about us, you wouldn’t be putting yourself in positions where naked whores are rubbing on you in your sleep. Dean can have his groupies live here for all I care, but I’m out.”

I turned on my heel, and strode to the front door. I had my hand on the knob before he stopped me, and he stopped me in the most Tristan way possible.

He pressed against me from behind, mostly naked, hard as a poker, and completely unmindful of the room full of people that must be watching us.

“I’ve missed you,” he whispered in my ear, his hands moving over my hands, pinning them to the door above me. “You can’t imagine how much I’ve missed you. I thought about you day and night. When I would text, and you wouldn’t reply right away, I came so close to saying f*ck it all and driving home to find you.”

“I’ve been busy. I have classes, and I actually attend them pretty regularly. I always answered back as soon as I could.”

“I know, but it’s not enough. We should never be apart, not for any reason. I can’t stand it. Come back to bed with me, sweetheart. I need you. Now.”

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