Choosing the Hart: A Love Triangle

by René, Dani

  I dabbed lip gloss over my lips. I was in the dress Triston bought. It was long, black, flowing chiffon with the back open in the shape of a V. The straps flowed over my shoulders with a cowl neck, and there was a long slit from my left ankle ending mid-thigh. I slipped on my black diamanté sandals. I decided on my white gold and diamond earrings with a matching necklace. My hair was tied in a messy bun, and stray curls spilled down my neck, framed my face. The butterflies in my stomach are awake and now having a party. I took a deep, steadying breath. This was it. Triston and I were together, officially and I smiled at my reflection. Life felt perfect.

  I walked into the living room. Triston looked up, and I twirled. “Do you approve, Mr. Hart?” I giggled hearing him growl. I faced him again as he stood. Music drifted from his laptop, and he grabbed me, spinning me around. I recognized Ellie Goulding’s voice. She sang the words I wanted to say to Triston. But it was too soon for me to say.

  “I do have fantastic taste in clothes, don’t I?” he asked in a low voice, pulling me out of my thoughts. I laughed at his question. He smiled appreciatively at me.

  “Thank you, Triston. The dress is exquisite. I don’t think I have ever worn anything as beautiful.” Hooking his index finger under my chin, he lifted my face so our eyes locked.

  “You are a vision tonight, and you should wear beautiful clothes all the time. I will make sure of that.” I blushed and smiled at his promise. He pulled away and walked over to turn his laptop off. I took in his appearance properly for the first time tonight. Triston looked as if he had just stepped off a photo shoot for GQ magazine. He wore his pinstripe, black Armani suit with a silver dress shirt. The first four buttons of his shirt undone as he always did when he wasn’t wearing a tie. His black, unzipped boots completed his look. It was elegant but rugged, and only Triston could have pulled it off. His shoulder-length hair hung loosely on his shoulders.

  I was thankful I didn’t need to take a purse along. He turned to me, his body close, and I felt his warm breath on my face. Leaning in, his lips on mine never failed to send sparks flying through me. When he pulled away, I felt a yearning for his body. Something else that didn’t go away. “You ready to knock them dead, angel?” His eyes sparkled in the light of our room. He took my breath away with his exquisite beauty.

  “I think I am.”

  * * *

  We walked into the restaurant, and I‘m blown away. The restaurant was luxurious. Coming from a small town, I had never been in a place like this before. Triston’s fingers brushed against my lower back as he guided me through the tables. The heat from his touch sending shivers down my spine. I felt everyone turn to stare at us, and a blush heated my face. Walking next to him made me feel like a princess; he oozed confidence, which seemed to cover me. “Seems you’re quite the head turner, Mr. Hart,” I whispered to him.

  “You’re the one they’re looking at, angel.” He leaned in close. “Even the women,” he whispered in my ear. I smiled.

  “Are you jealous, Mr. Hart?” I asked as we got closer to our table.

  “Miss Reid, I can’t be jealous. I’m the one who gets to see you naked,” he rasped, sending a current through my body to my panties.

  “Mr. Jacobson, Mrs. Jacobson.” Triston straightened and greeted our hosts, kissing Mrs. Jacobson’s hand, causing her to flush. No woman seemed immune to his charms. We sat down, and were immediately served with two large glasses of a crisp Chardonnay. Triston’s right hand found a spot on my thigh, his thumb drawing circles on my skin. That was why he sat on my left. The slit fell open, and he had access to tease me all night.

  The conversation flowed, and Triston impressed Mr. Jacobson with every answer. I was proud watching him. He was controlled and confident and oh so sexy. Mrs. Jacobson chatted to me as the men spoke business. She asked about my work and how long I had been employed at Triston’s company. She caught us both off guard with her next comment.

  “You two make a beautiful couple!”

  Triston turned and gave her a dazzling smile. “Thank you, Mrs. Jacobson. She makes me look good.” He winked and smiled at me. I felt my face flush bright red, and he squeezed my thigh, causing me to jump. He watched me, his hand never leaving my thigh. His teasing was relentless, and I figured I could play his game. I picked up my wine, taking a sip, wetting my lips. As always, his steel-blue gaze fell on my mouth. My tongue traced the line of my bottom lip, licking the moisture. His eyes glued to my mouth. He smirked, and his hand traveled higher up my thigh, and I almost moaned out loud. My eyes flickered to his. “Triston,” I gasped.

  He winked at me. Leaning in, he whispered in my ear, “Miss Reid, you do realize you’re making me hard . . . in public!” He sat back, and I noticed his other hand adjusting the front of his pants under the table. I giggled. His gaze on me was intense, making me squirm.

  I leaned toward him. My eyes darting to the couple at our table who were engrossed in a conversation about the wine. “I didn’t realize that, Mr. Hart,” I breathed in his ear. “I do apologize.” My tongue teased the shell of his ear, and his grip tightened on my thigh. I sat back, pleased with myself. Nobody had noticed our little exchange, and I gave him a sweet smile. His eyes had turned a beautiful shade of midnight blue in the dim light of the restaurant. I knew I had won this round at least.

  The rest of dinner was light in conversation as we finished a delectable cheesecake. I continued teasing Triston, licking the cream from my fork. His eyes were glued to my mouth almost throughout dessert. I felt powerful knowing I could affect him so much.

  The band started soon after our Irish coffees arrived. “I am taking my girl for a dance! Excuse us!” Mr. Jacobson escorted his wife to the dance floor, leaving Triston and me alone. As soon as they were out of earshot, Triston turned to me. “Miss Reid, you do know you will be punished for your little display earlier?” His eyes flickered with lust, making me shiver. I didn’t think I could wait until later. I was so turned on from our teasing I wanted him here and now.

  “Mr. Hart, I count on it!” My eyes challenged him. His smirk was dangerous. I stood up, and my dress flowed around my legs. Looking down at him, I smiled. “You coming?” I took a step toward the dance floor and waited till I felt his body heat on my back.

  “Angel, you bet I will be coming!” I gave a small laugh as he led me onto the dance floor.

  The song changed, and I recognized Annie Lennox singing “I Put a Spell On You.” It was appropriate, as he definitely put a spell on me. My arms wrapped around Triston’s neck, and his warm, soft hands held on to my lower back. His body was inches from mine, and he was radiating his magnetic heat my. We swayed across the floor alongside other couples. It was everything I could hope for. I was with an amazing man, I had my dream job, and I felt happy — like I was in one piece again. “You do look delicious in that dress and those heels,” he whispered. He spun me around, and we moved together effortlessly. It was like we were made to fit, made for each other.

  “Thank you, Mr. Hart, I did think you preferred me better without the dress?” He smiled as he led me between the people. I didn't even notice them; all that mattered was him. There was nothing else or no one else I could ever want or need but Triston. His fingers traced feather-light lines up and down my spine. Goosebumps rose on my skin, and I trembled in his arms.

  “I do, Miss Reid. I also like making my girl tremble.” His voice was low and husky.

  “Your girl?” I arched my eyebrow at him, and he smiled, pulling me tighter into him.

  “Of course. Unless of course, you prefer someone else making you tremble?” He questioned, his eyes flickering with something. Insecurity? I realized he still didn’t believe I wanted him and only him.

  “I prefer you,” I murmured, resting my head on his chest.

  * * *

  We sat side by side in the back of the car. Triston held tightly onto my hand. “Are you okay, Triston?” I looked over at him. H smiled and nodded. He seemed a million miles away, and I frowned.

&nb
sp; “I was just thinking; I want to take you somewhere.” His explanation didn’t say much, but I left it. The driver pulled up to the hotel, and Triston got out. He walked around to my side and opened my door. I stepped out, placing my hand in his. “Thank you, Mr. Hart.” He gave me a small smile. I wondered what had changed his mood so unexpectedly. He had something on his mind, and I could tell he wasn’t ready to share it. We walked through reception and waited at the elevator. “You really took my breath away tonight, angel. Of course, you always do.” He squeezed my hand. Stepping into the elevator, I pressed the sixth-floor button, and we ascended. I watched the lights change as we neared our floor. My heart was racing; I wanted to tell him how I felt. I wanted to say the words, but I knew he wasn’t ready to hear them.

  “Triston,” I mumbled, and he turned to face me. “I . . .” My face flushed. “Thank you.”

  It was his turn to look confused, his frown creasing his handsome face. “Thank you for what, beautiful?” The elevator dinged to alert us we had arrived at our floor. We stepped out and walked along the hallway.

  “Everything.” I saw the confusion on his face, but I didn’t think it was time to go into details. I couldn’t explain what I meant, so I smiled and watched him slide the keycard into the door. Unlocking it, he stepped aside and let me enter first.

  I walked into the bedroom and felt Triston follow close behind me. I faced the bed, slipping my shoes off. “Stop. Don’t move.” He pressed his body against me. I felt the heat radiating from him straight through me, his hot breath on my neck as he spoke, his voice low. “I don’t know what you’re doing to me, Miss Reid.” His voice cracked with emotion. His fingers traced a line from the back of my ear down to my shoulder.

  “Triston,” I breathed his name.

  “Shh, Angel, do not say a word.” He slipped the dress off my shoulders, and the soft fabric slid down my body to the floor. “Tonight, I want to show you other pleasures I can bestow on that beautiful body of yours. Stand still, okay?” I nodded in agreement, my body already trembling in anticipation. It wasn’t long before I felt the familiar fabric around my eyes. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach; I was nervous. I was acutely aware of him moving around the room, and I heard glasses clinking and then heard ice.

  “You're going to lay down, angel, on your back.” He helped me onto the bed, feeling the soft sheets. He had removed the covers. I laid back and felt the cold breeze from outside on my nipples, hardening them. He grabbed both my wrists, and it felt like the material of the blue scarf he was wearing wrapping around my wrists. He tied them to the headboard, which I remembered were wooden slats. He leaned over me on the bed, his tongue tracing a line from my ear down my neck, and I whimpered and moaned. I was naked except for my black lace panties. His tongue moved over my lips, and my mouth opened aching to be kissed. He sat back, and I shivered. “Mmm, my girl.” His voice was raspy with desire. “Do I possess you as much as you do me?” His whispered question in the darkness surrounded me.

  I nodded. “Yes, Triston.”

  He ran his fingers lightly from my neck down my chest, between my breasts, following a line down to my belly button. I squirmed under his feathery touch. His fingers were soft and warm, sending sweet sparks to every nerve-ending in my body. I felt alive and electric at his touch. The bed shifted, and I knew he had gotten off the bed. I heard the glass again and felt the mattress sink next to me. I could only guess he was kneeling beside me. A second later, he was leaning over me again. Straddling my hips, I could tell he had taken his pants off, but I felt the material of his tight briefs. His lips on mine caused my mouth to open to him. I tasted the wine from his lips as it slowly dripped into my waiting mouth. I moaned, swallowing the crisp, cold liquid.

  I heard him take another mouthful of wine. I felt the cold liquid dripping down the line he traced from my breasts. Slow. Steady. All the way to my belly button. The cold caused goosebumps to rise on my skin, and my whole body tingled. “Mmm,” he growled, and I felt his tongue dip into my navel.

  “Ah, Triston!” My hips rose up to meet his teasing mouth. His teeth grazed my skin, and I felt the heat between my legs intensify. I knew it wouldn’t be long till I came undone.

  I felt him move again as he reached over me. Unexpectedly, I felt heat on my skin. I realized he was dripping hot wax following the path of the cold wine. “Oh god, Triston, please?” I moaned out loud.

  The heat sent intense shivers over my body. I almost came undone when I felt the ice. He traced the line of the wax with melting ice until it reached my belly button. He started blowing back up my skin, his breath hot. I couldn’t stand it anymore. The hot, the cold, it was driving me insane. “Triston, please!” I begged louder this time. I needed him so much as I was in complete exquisite agony. He moved over me, his fingers taking the cool wax off me.

  “Miss Reid, you do recall the teasing you did at the dinner table?” His voice was so dark and dangerous. I knew he would get his revenge for that. And what a magnificent revenge it was. I nodded, not sure if he saw.

  “Yes,” I mumbled, giggling into the darkness. He grabbed my hips in one swift move, turning me over, spanking me hard. “Ouch!”

  Another slap and I was about to come apart when I heard him growl, “Do you think it’s funny, Miss Reid?” My body stretched as I kneeled in front of him. My hands are tugging on my restraints.

  “No.” My whisper was barely audible.

  “No? No, who, Miss Reid?” He spanked me again, kneeling behind me. His lust-filled voice caused my whole body to react and tremble. I was dripping wet, and I needed him to take me. I needed him so much it hurt.

  “No, Mr. Hart,” I mumbled into the pillow.

  I heard the sound of him pushing his briefs down. I anticipated his movements, but nothing could prepare me for him filling me, his hands in a vice-like grip on my hips. He plunged into me deep and hard. “Triston!” I screamed his name, so close to my release. He was unrelenting as he took me, fucking me hard.

  His growl sounded animalistic, and it spurred me on. “You are so fucking tight. Feels so good around me.” I was almost at the edge when he slowed. He wasn’t allowing me my release. “Please, Triston?” He ignored me, continuing his exquisite torture inside me. I was close to delirium when his hand reached down, between my legs. His fingers circled my clit in slow, teasing touches, taking me back to the edge. I was almost there when he slammed into me once more. “Come, Emily. Give me your pleasure!” Biting onto the pillow, an intense orgasm ripped into me. I squeezed him inside me, tightening around him.

  “Fuck!” His body tensed behind me, and he spasmed. I felt his hot release filling me.

  * * *

  I woke to the smell of pancakes. Opening my eyes, I rolled over to an empty bed. Triston was at the balcony door in his low-slung pajama bottoms, the muscles in his back looking tense. “Good morning, Mr. Hart.” I sat up. Covering myself with the sheet, I scooted up. When he turned to face me, I noticed he looked uneasy. “Are you okay?” I got out of bed wrapped in the sheet and walked over to him. I wrapped my arms around his waist and could feel the welcome heat of his skin.

  “I should be asking you that.” His voice was strained and clipped. Twisting in my arms to face me, he lifted my chin with his index finger. I look into those amazing steel-blue eyes and frowned. What did he mean? Why wouldn’t I be okay? “Of course I am; why would you even ask?”

  He released my chin and shrugged. “I don’t know. I just . . .” As he pulled away from me, I knew something was wrong. Leaving me standing in the door of the patio, he walked back into the bedroom and stood at the cabinet with his back to me.

  “What is wrong, Triston? Have I done something?” I frowned, watching him tense again. Something was seriously wrong. My heart was constricting in my chest. Had he changed his mind about us?

  “It’s nothing. We are going to be late for work if you don’t get dressed!” He turned to me and picked me up, spinning me around and kissing me deeply. His tongue stroked mine
. I tangled my hands in his hair, and I heard the familiar growl in his chest. The concern in his eyes had disappeared, but I knew something was bothering him. I wanted to know what it was. He let me down and stepped back.

  “Can I get you some coffee? They’ve just brought our breakfast.” I nodded as he made his way back into the living room. I passed the cabinet and noticed my phone. I hadn’t checked it since we arrived, but picking it up and pressing the power button, the screen lit up. I didn’t remember turning it on. I was sure it was off for a few days. I unlocked the screen and saw my messages open. One from Bash sent that morning.

  Sebastian: I am so sorry. Please don’t let my brother steal you from me? I didn’t mean to hurt you.

  That was probably what was on Triston’s mind. “I see you found it.” I jumped at his voice behind me. Turning to face him, I saw the concern was back in his eyes.

  “Triston, did you turn my phone on?”

  He nodded, and I felt fear in my heart. Did he see the message and think we were over? That didn’t make sense, though. “I shouldn’t have looked. I am sorry. I got a message from him this morning, and I had a feeling he would have messaged you too.” I was in shock. The man standing in front of me was so broken and insecure, yet he had no reason to be. I didn’t have anything to hide from him. Why would he think I was angry about him looking at a message that I had no desire to answer? I had a feeling there was something else, though. There had to be.

  “Is there something you’re not telling me, Triston?”

  He handed me the coffee and sat on the edge of the bed. “Remember when I told you I overdosed?” I nodded. “Well, it was my brother who found me.” He was quiet for a few moments. I knew the confession was difficult for him. “When I woke up, let’s just say I was less than grateful to him. I said some things to him, insulted him in a way I knew would hurt him. He never forgave me for it and yet I don’t blame him. I don’t forgive myself for saying what I did to him. We stopped speaking for years until my mother invited him to my engagement party. She thought it was time to mend fences.”