His arrogant promises make my cunt pulse, because I have zero doubt that he is going to do exactly as he says.
"Just shut up," I snap—and pull his lips back to mine.
10
Tristan
It feels like my body is operating on its own accord because I still can't make sense of the fact that she's kissing me. This whole night has been a clusterfuck of emotions, and I think it's taking a minute for my brain to catch up. But the one thing that's undeniable is the fact that I've been hard for Remy since the moment I saw her at the bar. I've seen her in skirts for work, but I've never seen her dressed up like she is tonight. I damn near lost my mind when I looked across the bar and saw her in this tight little dress.
I wasn't going to do anything about it, though. I wasn’t even going to approach her tonight. I was content to just watch her in her element, tipsy and happy and having a good time with her friends. I realized that I only ever see her serious or angry—but happiness looks sexy as fuck on her. I just wanted to watch her a little bit.
But then that asshole put his hands on her sister, and I couldn't not get involved. People might think I'm a womanizer but one thing I will never fucking allow in my presence is any sort of disrespect or violence against women. Or anyone I care about, really, but especially a woman like Hailey who doesn't seem to see the abuse for what it is. I am nothing if not protective of the people around me.
I also felt a thrill of pleasure when I saw Remy about to step in just before I did. I’ve known that she's fiercely loyal to the people she loves but it's another thing to see that she really would've thrown down with a grown ass man for her sister, consequences be damned. If I wasn't so furious at that shitbag her sister calls a boyfriend, I may have sat back with a drink to watch her hand that guy his ass.
I was impressed, and that feeling multiplied tenfold when Sabrina joined the evening's events. Remy had no obligation to help me get rid of her, but fuck, am I glad that she did. That girl has been nothing but a headache since the very beginning. Yeah, she was good in the sack, but from the first time she tried to convince me she didn't want anything from me, I could tell there was something off about her. The fact that she couldn't leave me alone when I broke it off with her and kept "accidentally” running into me in the city was just further proof that my gut instincts were right. I really thought I was going to have to get a restraining order at some point.
I like to think Remy helped me out because she felt some respect for me tonight, too. Not just because I helped her sister, but also because I managed to make her feel comfortable around me with that ridiculous assumption game we played at the bar. Maybe she's finally starting to see that I'm not as much of a bad guy as she always thought I was. Maybe she’s realized that I’m not just a selfish bastard, but a loyal and protective one. The same way I’m starting to realize she’s not as bitchy as I once thought she was—she just comes off that way when she’s defensive. But whatever it was that opened her up to helping me, I felt instantly grateful the second she straddled my lap. Grateful… and other things.
I knew she was only doing it because Sabrina was standing next to us but holyshitdid she feel right in my arms. I couldn't help tugging her closer any more than I could help the fact that my breathing sped up when she started whispering in my ear. I tried so hard to see if there was any part of her that was enjoying the closeness as much as I was, but I had no way to tell while Sabrina was still there.
I thought I got my answer when she kissed me on the street. I thought she was acting on the heat that I know she felt between us at the bar. And goddamn, did that heat explode when she kissed me. I'm not typically a huge fan of kissing—it feels more intimate than a lot of other sexual activities—but in that moment, it was all I wanted to do. I couldn't get enough of Remy's lips. I felt such relief that she was feeling the same things I was. And when she pulled away and told me she only did it because Sabrina was watching, that relief morphed into anger and humiliation on a scale that I've never felt before.
But by the time we got back to the house, I managed to calm down enough to realize that it couldn't possibly be all in my head. I couldn't be the only one feeling the sexual tension between us. And even if it was purely physical, even if Remy still didn’t like me, I knew she wanted to give in to this thing between us. It's been growing for days, probably years—we just didn't know what it was because we hid the truth with our verbal sparring.
But no more. No more dancing around this tension. No more hiding behind sexual innuendos, or pranks, or condescending digs. By the time she pushed into the house, I had decided she was going to have to make a decision: either admit she felt it too or reject me to my face.
I needed her to make the first real move. Not only because she'd been drinking but mainly because I wanted her to want me. I wanted her to show me that she needs me just as much as I need her. And now that she's kissing me, I don't think I'll be able to stop.
It feels like there are currents of electricity running through my body. Right now, as my hand is curled around her throat and I'm nipping her jawline, she's running her hands up and down my lower back. Energy emanates from every place she touches me. As I hit a particularly sensitive spot on her neck, she digs her fingers into my hips and presses herself tighter against my body with a moan.
I growl as the motion causes my dick to get even harder than it already is. My jeans are cutting into me and I'm already past the point of feeling uncomfortable. If I don't get my dick out and inside her soon, I think I might actually lose my mind.
But even in my feelings of horny desperation, I want Remy to come first. Ineedher to come first. I'm obsessed with the thought of her spasming around my fingers, my tongue, my cock. Ever since last night—when I almost kissed her after she came home from the bar—I’ve been dying to know what she looks like when she loses control. Despite my better judgment, I actually let myself jerk off to the thought of her coming on my fingers. And right now, with her under my hands, her pleasure is the only thing I give a shit about.
I lick back up her neck until I'm teasing her lips again. I can still taste a hint of her cherry chapstick, though it’s not as overwhelming to my senses as it was when she kissed me on the street. It’s faded enough so that it’s her natural, sweet taste on my tongue now, mixed with the subtle sting of tequila. It’s an intoxicating combination, and I’m thrown right back into what damn near destroyed me earlier tonight. My head spins with how much I want to touch her, taste her, consume her. I slide my tongue in her mouth with a groan.
She surrenders in my arms. Almost immediately, she begins desperately tugging at my shirt, trying to speed up our dance.
I chuckle and shake my head. "Not so fast, Remy baby," I tease. "I'm going to take my time with this." Grabbing both of her wrists, I pin them above her head with one of my hands.
She frowns at my scolding and begins weakly struggling against my grasp. But as soon as I'm kissing her jaw, her neck, her collarbone, she shivers and stops fighting.
"Good girl," I whisper. "What's the rush? We have all night."
Then, slowly, I begin tracing my other hand down her body. She's still wearing her little black dress but it's so tight that it's not leaving much to the imagination. It's also cut low enough that her breasts are perfectly in my view, and all I can think about is how I can't wait to strip them completely bare so that I can marvel in their every detail.
I gently trace the curve of her breast before moving lower, down her side, further still until I finally reach the top of her thigh and the edge of her dress. I begin softly caressing her thigh. I'll be rough later, but for now, I'm enjoying teasing her with light touches. Then I'm slipping a finger underneath the fabric of her dress, continuing to stroke her soft skin.
I capture her gasp with my lips. I take the opportunity to slide my tongue inside, caressing her tongue the same way my fingers are caressing her skin below. I can't get enough of the fire between us when our mouths collide.
I grab a fistful of her dress and pull it up a few inches. I'm dizzy with the thought of finally being able to touch her, to see how wet she is. It was all I could think about when she was straddling me at the bar. Without a second thought, I grab her panties and rip them from her body. A whimper escapes her, and she drops her head forward as she begins to pant against my lips, her long, wavy hair falling forward to frame her face, adding to her look of dishevelment. I can practically feel her body start to vibrate with need. I move my hand to her thigh and begin sliding up, and I can hear her breath hitch as I come close, so close. But I still don't give her what she wants.
"Tristan," she hisses through clenched teeth. "If you don't touch me in the next two seconds, I swear I’m going to hit you with that knee you taught us today."
I chuckle at her desperation, continuing to touch her everywhere but where she wants me to. I stroke the inside of her thighs, her lower belly, sometimes getting dangerously close to her damp heat but never giving her what she's really asking for.
"You won't," I murmur in her ear. "Because if you do, what will I fuck your sweet pussy with?" And then just as she groans at my dirty words, I slide my fingers between her lips and spread her wetness along her slit. Once my fingertips are drenched, I drag them up and start lazily circling her clit.