She wanted to watch them. Wanted to be a part of them.
“Normally you leave fingerprints on the monitor. Now forehead prints? Cripes, Caity, that machine cost over two grand.”
She jolted backward at Tristan’s irritated voice. He stood in the kitchenette, wearing a crisp white Oxford shirt and black dress pants. Though it was still a little wet, his dark hair skimmed his shoulders in perfect waves. As rugged as Matt’s looks were, Tristan’s were classic. He looked like a movie star between takes, with just enough edge to make things interesting. More edge than she’d ever guessed. She wouldn’t have pegged him as a rough lover, but last night had proven her wrong on a lot of scores.
Forest green eyes met hers, then glanced pointedly at the floor. “Who broke your mug?” he asked, his tone immediately softening. “Aww, honey, I’m sorry.”
All at once, the previous evening rushed back, and she hurried into the kitchen.
Wile E. Coyote’s head lay in fat pieces on the hardwood floor. She stared as Tris cleaned up the mess. He swore colorfully while he did it, but he didn’t hesitate.
Her sweet, unselfish friend.
Okay, that wasn’t true. He could often be selfish. But he wasn’t with her.
Never with her.
“Tris,” she whispered, crouching to brush her hand over his hair. Just one quick, illicit touch.
He turned his head, his gorgeous eyes radiating compassion. “I know that was your favorite. I’ll buy you a new one. Where’d you get it again?”
“A shop in California.”
“Oh. Well, they must have a website, right?”
She didn’t think. Her brain threw up a “currently on vacation” sign, and she was left with pure instinct. That instinct made her slide her palm over Tristan’s jaw, still damp from his morning shave, and pull him closer until his eyes were level with hers.
“I want to kiss you,” she m
urmured, shocked to hear the truth fall from her lips.
Surprise registered on his face, but not only surprise. Anticipation. Desire. Another amazing trio.
“Do you usually ask?”
She stroked his cheek, her gaze darting between the path of her fingers and his soft, expectant mouth. “When it’s you, yeah,” she said, drawing her hand away when all she wanted to do was hold on.
He dropped the paper towels on the floor and shifted to frame her face in his hands. Hands she’d envisioned on her body so many times.
“So do it,” he murmured, leaning in and doing it for her.
At first it was the complete antithesis of the kiss she’d shared with Matthew. That one had been crazy, emotional. Uncontrolled. This was a gentle mating of lips. Soft, sweet, and easy. He didn’t press for her to grant him access, but she gave it, opening for him with a low moan.
When his tongue curled around hers, she shivered. She was already so aroused from the direction of her thoughts that his drugging kisses short-circuited her senses. She slid her hands up his chest to his broad, corded shoulders, digging her nails into his skin as she angled her mouth over his and took the control she knew he was waiting to give.
He swooped in, enfolding her in his strong, steady arms. He tasted so good, like toothpaste and sex. Her mouth explored every nuance of his while the pressure in her belly built. Lazy explorations turned to a mad duel of tongues and lips. She panted, dizzy from lack of oxygen, but she couldn’t have torn herself away from him if her life had been at stake.
As frantic as his mouth was, every bit as wild as hers, his hands didn’t roam her body. They stayed securely on her back while she tried to feel as much of him through his clothes as possible.
More. Just more. It was the only thought she had left.
The noises coming from the coffee machine made them jerk apart. Breath heaving, she dropped her forehead to his and closed her eyes.
What the hell had she just done?
“Morning, kids,” Matt said, his cheerful hello nearly sending her stumbling backward onto the floor. Though her muscles protested from crouching for so long, she still didn’t move. She felt frozen in place. “Sleep well?”
She shot Matt a hateful glance and said nothing. Tristan’s arms held fast around her, keeping her in place. “Guess you didn’t have a chance to start the coffee,” she said to Tristan.