He came with a pained moan that was so loud he surprised himself, his fingernails digging into Zach’s back as his body tensed with waves of pleasure that swept through him, like nothing he’d ever felt.
Zach didn’t stop moving, his thrusts becoming rougher, his fingers gripping Tristan’s thighs hard, harder—
“Yeah, that’s it,” Zach muttered, sounding absolutely wrecked. “You feel so good, so perfect, wanna come in you—” He shuddered and came with a stifled groan, and Tristan’s face contorted as Zach pumped into him, reveling in it way too much, that it was Zach’s seed filling him, hot and creamy, into his deepest places. God, this was fucked up.
When Zach started kissing his face softly, kissing him everywhere, Tristan couldn’t fucking deal with it anymore. He just couldn’t.
He didn’t trust his voice not to break. This hadn’t been a good day for him and he felt…fragile. Weak and pathetic and needier than ever.
“Tristan?” The note of concern in Zach’s voice reminded him of the way Zach had held him and comforted him earlier that evening. Suddenly, a rush of pure hatred burned through him. Why had Zach done it? Why was he here at all? Why was Zach kissing him like that? Like he cared. Like Tristan meant something to him. Something precious.
“Go,” Tristan said roughly. “You should go.”
A few seconds passed in silence.
Zach reached out to the bedside lamp.
“Don’t,” Tristan bit off. He didn’t want the light. He trusted his face even less than he trusted his voice. Darkness was perfect for this. He didn’t want to see Zach. Didn’t want Zach to see him until he’d managed to compose himself.
“Get out,” Tristan whispered.
He could feel Zach’s eyes on him. “Get out? Do you mean—?”
“You know what I mean,” Tristan said. Get out of my life.
Silence.
At last, Zach pulled out and rolled off him.
Tristan swallowed, feeling hollow in more ways than one. He pulled the sheets to his chin and stared unseeingly into the darkness, fighting the impulse to say something scathing and hurtful. Zach knew him and would see right through it. They were going separate ways in life and would likely never see each other again, but it didn’t mean Tristan wanted Zach to remember him as that pathetic kid who got a little too attached after a month of sex.
The rustling of clothes stopped, and an odd heaviness settled in Tristan’s chest.
The silence stretched out, becoming unbearable.
Tristan closed his eyes and whispered again, “Get out.” Before I make a fool of myself and beg you to dump your fiancee for me.
He felt more than heard Zach leave.
When Tristan switched on the bedside lamp, the first thing he saw was the key on the nightstand. The shiny metal glinted in the dim light.
He curled his fingers around it before throwing it across the room. Something shattered and broke and he remembered what Lydia had told him a while back. I hope one day you’ll fall in love. And that person will bring you to your knees.
A ripping, unsteady laugh tore out of him. He laughed and laughed and laughed until there was nothing left in him.
Chapter 24
The house was dark and quiet when Zach let himself in. He locked the door, turned on the light, and went directly to the mini-bar. He grabbed a bottle of whiskey and took a swig.
“Drinking alone at night?”
Zach stiffened at the sound of Nick’s voice. “It’s late,” he said curtly. “Go to sleep.”
“I’m a little too old to have a bedtime.”
Zach took a gulp of whiskey. “It’s three in the morning, I’m knackered, and not in a good mood, Nick.”
“I can see that,” Nick said, his tone as dry. “You haven’t been in a good mood the entire evening. Ever since—”
“Where’s Ryan and James?” Zach said. When he’d left the house a little after midnight, they had still been there.
“Very subtle,” Nick said. “But in case you really care, they’re upstairs, sleeping like babies—oddly enough, not together. So, about—”
Zach walked out of the room.
But Nick, being Nick, didn’t get the hint and followed him out to the terrace.
Ignoring him, Zach gulped his whiskey and dropped himself in the chaise-lounge. He closed his eyes and focused on the sound of the wind blowing through the trees.
“You know, at first I was pissed off,” Nick said. “Of course I was pissed off. Don’t remember the last time my ego has taken a beating like that. It kinda sucks when the hot guy I’ve been hitting on the entire evening tells me to fuck off and then becomes all touchy-feely with my brother.”
Zach opened his eyes. “Forget about him,” he said flatly.
Nick lit a cigarette. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you have some personal interest.” He took a drag and exhaled. “You know, some people say homosexuality is genetic. I used to think they were wrong—I mean, I thought I was the only one in the family—but maybe they’re onto something. Though, who knows, maybe you are straight.” He chuckled. “He sure is hot enough to tempt a monk. Though, it looks like he has one hell of an attitude lurking behind his pretty face, but it’s kind of hot. The craziest, bitchy ones are often fantastic in the sack. He’s probably like a wild cat, all hisses and claws—”