Bad Things(76)

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*cking 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.”

He strode back into the kitchen less than two minutes later, a shit-eating grin on his face. “Change of plans. Bev and Jerry are taking the boys to Shark Reef after breakfast. Family day.”

He flipped a few things on the stovetop before moving to me, pushing his hips between my knees to whisper in my ear. “I can’t decide whether I’ll bend you over the couch, and f*ck you hard from behind, or take you right here, on this counter.”





CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE





Bev and Jerry had the boys out of the house within two hours.

I eyed Tristan up as I heard the door closing behind them. “What did you say to Jerry to get him moving so fast? I haven’t seen him up that early in years.”

“I promised to let him organize something for the band in a few weeks. Dean doesn’t want a manager. He thinks he can do it himself. He can’t. He’s too shiftless to get things done for us, but I’ve been letting him find that out on his own. Jerry will be great at it, so I’m giving him a shot. Dean won’t be happy, but it had to happen sometime.”

“Dean seems like a douche bag.”