by Nikki Castle
Tristan pulls out slightly, then pushes back in, just a little bit deeper. He starts to increase the intensity of his fingers on my clit. The feeling is so distracting, so powerful, that I can already feel another orgasm start to build. I dig my nails into Tristan's arm.
"Good girl," he murmurs. I'm held so tightly against his chest that his lips are close enough to whisper his dirty words directly into my ear. I shiver at the feel of his breath on my skin.
"You take my cock so well," he murmurs, his fingers continuing to fly over my drenched cunt. "I've been thinking about how you'd look in this position since the very first night I fucked you. You look just as hot as I thought you would." I whimper at his words, digging my nails in even deeper. "How does it feel, baby? Do you like my cock in your ass?"
That question is what ruins me. This whole thing is so taboo, his words so vulgar, that a rush of heat immediately runs through me and demands more of it. I arch my back with a moan and press my ass against him, taking the last inch of him inside.
"Fuck," he hisses. The hand that was wrapped around me now grabs my waist with a bruising grip, even while the fingers of his other hand stay buried in my pussy. Then he starts to fuck me.
I reach one arm above my head to grip the back of Tristan's neck and arch my body. "Fuck me," I gasp. "You feel so good, I need you to fuck me. Fuck my ass, Tristan."
Another string of curses falls from his lips as he picks up his pace. I feel my release building, knowing it's about to completely consume me.
And as he thrusts deep at the same time that his nail slides across my achy and swollen clit, it does.
My orgasm explodes through my body, filling me with a kind of pleasure that I didn't even know existed. I'm completely powerless as it rolls through me and all I can do is cling to Tristan's neck as he continues to fuck me through it.
It vaguely registers that his hand has moved from my pussy to grip the front of my neck.
"You're so fucking perfect," he growls in my ear. "But I want you to come again. I want you to come from just my cock in your ass."
He squeezes my neck, and it feels like that's all I'll need to do as he says. But then his grip tightens on my waist and his thrusts become harder, deeper—his fucking has become primal and desperate.
This side of him is the sexiest side, and definitely my favorite in bed. This animal side of him. I love when he owns me like this. And he was right before, about my wanting to give up control in the bedroom and let him take what he wants.
And right now, he wants to fuck me into submission.
This explosion shatters me just as much as the last one did. I was already weak from that one so this one absolutely ruins me. I hear Tristan's loud curse at the same time that I feel his hips jerk, and then he's filling me, fucking us both through to the very end of our orgasms.
I'm trembling in his arms by the time he stops moving. He places a soft kiss on the arm that's still gripping the back of his neck, then he gently slides out of me and lays us down on the bed.
He settles behind me and pulls me tight against his chest. "I might not be able to fuck you that hard again until after the fight so I'm glad we got to do it tonight. I've been distracted thinking about doing that since the first night I had you." I turn over to face him and find him grinning down at me. "Definitely surpassed expectations."
I lean forward to nip his chin. "I hate you," I mutter.
His smile only grows wider at that. "Pretty sure that's your way of saying 'I love you,' so I'll take it."
I shake my head with a smile. Then I realize something about what he just said and look up at him with a small frown. "I know you need to focus on the fight now. The last thing I want to be is a distraction so whatever you need, wherever you want me to go, I'll—"
He cuts me off with a kiss. When he pulls away, he gives me a hard look. "You're not a distraction. I always thought having a girlfriend would split my focus, but that's not going to happen here. I don't know if it's because you're in the sport and you understand it better than most people, or if you and I just mesh that well, but having you around could only be good for me. I want you with me through all of this. You're stuck with me, Remy baby."
I roll my eyes at the nickname, but a smile still stretches across my lips. He just smirks and starts to rub circles along my lower back.
I trace his collarbone and run my fingers along his chest, already watching his eyelids droop with exhaustion.
"I'm proud of you," I whisper. "I always knew you'd make it, even when I hated you. And you're going to be champ one day, and I'm going to be right there next to you, telling you again that I knew you'd make it and that I'm so fucking proud of you."
For a moment I think he's already asleep, but then his arms tighten around me and he presses a kiss to the top of my head.
“I’m such an idiot for not seeing what was right in front of me all this time,” he murmurs as we both drift off to sleep.
It doesn’t occur to me that Jax might be home until we pull up in front of the guys’ house. By the time Tristan turns the car off, I'm practically fidgeting in my seat.
"What if he hates us for not telling him?" I blurt. "What if he hates the idea of us together? I knew I should've told him what was going on. I can't handle Jax being mad at me, it'll kill me."
Tristan chuckles and lightly tugs on my hair. "Stop panicking, he's not going to hate us. Jax doesn't hate anyone. And he might not even be here. You know how he gets at his parents' parties, he probably passed out in their pantry last night."
"I don't think I'm that lucky," I grumble. But then I sigh in defeat and reach for the door handle. "Fine, let's just grab your gym stuff and get this over with."
As we walk down the sidewalk, a quick glance at the stark contrast between what Tristan and I are wearing soothes my nerves enough to force a giggle out of me. He raises an eyebrow at me in question.
"I'm wearing leggings and a sweatshirt, which is totally acceptable for a Sunday morning," I laugh, "and you're wearing a day-old suit, looking all kinds of rumpled and sexy. I'm just enjoying the fact that you're the one doing a walk of shame right now."
Tristan grabs my hand and yanks me against his chest. I gasp in surprise, but automatically settle against his body. He fists his hand in my hair and grins down at me. "How could anyone possibly be ashamed of spending the entire night inside your sweet little body?" he whispers against my mouth, leaning forward to bite my lower lip. Another gasp escapes me, which he immediately swallows with a heated kiss. I cling to his white button-up shirt, wrinkling it even more than it already was. It’s all I can do to hang on as Tristan kisses me so hard that you'd never guess we spent the last twelve hours in bed together.
I'm panting by the time we break apart. "Okay, we should probably go inside before I start fantasizing about dragging you into the alleyway again."
Tristan keeps me pressed tight to his body with the arm he has wrapped around my waist. He cocks an eyebrow, a mischievous sparkle flashing in his eyes. "Again?" he asks with a smirk.
I swallow roughly and I'm sure that I'm blushing right now. "Yeah. That kiss in front of Sabrina gave me all kinds of dirty thoughts."
A grin stretches across his face. "Remind me to dive further into those dirty thoughts later tonight. I can't wait to hear what else you thought about over the past few weeks."
I roll my eyes and push myself away, but I can't stop the edges of my mouth from twitching into a small smile. I turn to continue walking toward the guys' front door. "You need to focus on the fight. Stop thinking about fucking me."
Tristan sighs but lets me go. "Fine. But don't think I'm going to be celibate for the next two weeks. That would make me even crazier." He emphasizes his point by slapping my ass.
I cover myself with my hands and shoot him an angry glare. He just smirks at me and tosses his suit jacket over his shoulder.
I realize as I climb the steps to the house that I've completely forgotten to be nervous about Jax. Until now.
/> I swallow nervously as I unlock the door. Tristan must feel the shift in me because he places his hand on the small of my back in a comforting gesture. His touch forces me to take a deep breath and push open the door.
Jax is sprawled out on the couch, a blanket covering his half-naked form, and he's scrolling through Netflix with a sleepy gaze.
We all freeze. For a moment, we all just stare at each other, trying to wade through the confusion of the sights before us: Jax sleeping on the couch, and Tristan and I walking in together wearing what are clearly morning-after clothes.
I want to ask the first question, but I can't find the breath when Jax's eyes narrow at us. I can practically see the wheels turning in his head. Even Tristan is tense beside me as we wait for his reaction.
After a few seconds he gives us a stiff nod and then turns back to the TV. "It's about time," he grumbles. "I thought you two would never figure it out."
My mouth opens in shock. I had a feeling Jax guessed what was going on, but I didn't think he knew before even we did. Leave it to him to beat everyone to it.
Something occurs to Jax and he turns to shoot a glare at Tristan. "Although I gotta be honest, dude. Even though I love you like my own brother, I have to warn you that my allegiance lies with Remy. So don't fuck her over. Because I'd hate to have to kill you after everything we've been through."
Tristan lets out a startled laugh. "Fair enough," he concedes.
With that, it feels like the whole room relaxes. I let out the breath I didn't realize I was holding.
But then I remember my own confusion, and my frown reappears. "Why are you sleeping on the couch?" I finally ask.
My gaze narrows when Jax looks away quickly and starts fidgeting with the remote in his hands. My friend is a confident, larger-than-life stud, and I can probably count on one hand the amount of times I've seen him look self-conscious. This is one of those times.
"I gave Hailey my room last night," he finally answers. "She… got into a thing with Steve and needed a place to crash. I didn't want to put her on the couch."
My frown deepens, and I reach to pull my phone from my pocket. Glancing down at the blank screen, I say, "Why didn't she call me? What kind of thing? What happened?"
Jax rubs the back of his neck nervously. "They broke up. Hailey ended it."
My mouth drops open for the second time in five minutes, at the same time that Tristan stiffens next to me and mutters, "Good."
"Why didn't she call me?" I whisper in shock.
At that, Jax finally looks at me. "I don't know if she was going to call anyone. I called her when she didn't show up to Mom and Dad's party and that's when she told me. She was drunk as shit. I wasn't going to leave her alone in that house, so I picked her up and brought her here. She might still be passed out."
My heart drops as I gaze up the stairs to where my little sister is sleeping. I've always known Steve wasn't good for Hailey—and it's probably not a secret that I've pushed her multiple times to reevaluate her relationship with him—but no one ever wants to see a loved one in pain. I just hope she doesn't shed too many tears over the asshole.
"I'll go check on her," I say softly. Then I remember why Tristan and I are here, and I turn to Jax. "What're you doing today? Can you go to the gym with Tristan?"
Jax turns to Tristan with a confused look. "Training on a Sunday rest day? I figured you'd be done with that now that you're not moping over Remy."
I try to stifle my giggle as Tristan glares at his best friend. "I was not moping," he growls.
I squeeze his hand. "I ran myself ragged, too," I reassure him. Then a thought occurs to me and I perk up with a giddy smile. "Holy shit, I just realized I can go back to the gym now. I don't have to avoid you anymore. Thank fucking God, I missed punching Jax in the face."
Jax glares at me. "Fat chance you'll land anything," he grumbles. Then he turns back to Tristan and his questioning look returns. "So why are we going to the gym on a Sunday?" he asks again.
Now it's Tristan's turn to grin. "Because I have a fight in two weeks."
Jax raises his eyebrows in surprise. "Against who?"
"Kevin Holladay," Tristan answers smugly.
There's a moment of supreme shock, and then… chaos.
"HOLY SHIT, DUDE, WHAT THE FUCK!" Jax explodes. He shoots upright as he stares at Tristan in disbelief. "Jimmy got you a fight in the UFC?!"
He jumps up and shoves his friend, but Tristan just continues to grin. Jax makes a move to shove him again—clearly being unable to handle news of this size without any kind of physical outlet—but then he stops and frowns. "If you're fucking with me, man, I swear to God…"
Just then something creaks behind us and I turn to see Hailey coming down the stairs. I suck in a breath as I look her over and try to figure out how she's doing.
She's drowning in one of Jax's shirts and she looks exhausted, but it doesn't look like she's been crying. By first glance, I wouldn't guess that she's a heartbroken woman the day after a breakup.
"Why is Jax screaming at 8:00 in the morning?" she asks with an adorably sleepy smile. She stops on the last step and leans on the banister, waiting expectantly.
Tristan is the first to break our stunned silence. He clears his throat and says, "I got a fight in the UFC."
A pause, and then… chaos.
"HOLY SHIT!" Hailey screams. "Are you serious?! That's insane, congratulations!"
"Thanks," Tristan says with a grin. Then he turns to me with a skeptical look. "You know, I'm starting to feel a little hurt that my own girlfriend didn't react by screaming. Everyone else seems to think it's screech-worthy news."
I shoot him a glare and swat his arm, but from behind me I hear Hailey gasp, "Girlfriend? What the hell happened last night?"
I look back at her with a hesitant gaze. "I think I need to ask you the same thing," I say softly.
She swallows nervously but only nods in answer. I turn back to the boys with a quirked eyebrow. "So… gym? I'll stay here with Hailey. And you should call Coach."
My words snap them both into action. Tristan nods once and then squeezes past Hailey to get ready upstairs.
Jax moves to follow his friend but he stops next to Hailey on the first step. He looks like he wants to say something but instead, he just presses a kiss to her temple. "I'll be back later, don't go anywhere," he finally murmurs quietly.
Hailey looks up at him with wide eyes and nods, a faint blush staining her cheeks. I make a mental note to ask her about Jax's exceptionally protective behavior.
Jax continues up the stairs and for a second, Hailey and I just stare at each other.
"It sounds like we have a lot to talk about," I mutter. She exhales a nervous laugh.
By the time the boys come back downstairs, Hailey is already making us some breakfast. Tristan walks over to where I'm sitting at the kitchen island and wraps his arms around me from behind, leaning forward to gently nip the side of my neck. I smile and turn my head for a real kiss.
"If we could not make PDA a habit, that would be great," Jax grumbles when Tristan finally ends the kiss. I only roll my eyes in response.
Tristan adopts a somber expression as he pulls away. "Okay, let's get the fuck out of here. I'm not going to beat Holladay from the couch."
Jax immediately matches Tristan's seriousness and nods firmly. "Let's fuck this shit up."
"Good luck," I call out as they head toward the front door.
Before Tristan closes it after him, he grins and flashes me a wink. "That's what you're here for. Why do you think I went after you so hard?"
I glare at him and immediately reach over the couch to grab one of the pillows. I launch it at Tristan's head but, per usual, he's too quick for me.
Some things will never change.
Epilogue - Remy
Three years later
I'm sitting cross-legged on the hotel bed, my computer in front of me and several loose-leaf sheets from my notebook scattered around me. I also have about sever
al pens tucked into the messy bun on top of my head.
When Tristan walks into the room and sees me, he grins. "That frazzled, huh? Usually you only have four pens lost in your hair."
I blush and pull the pens out. Even after publishing two bestsellers, I'm still just as chaotic with my writing process as I was in the beginning. Each pen is a sign that I'm so lost in my thoughts, I've forgotten I already have one available to me in my hair.
Once it's free of all writing tools, I shake my hair free of its tie and smile at my husband. "Well, you look a little better than you did twelve hours ago."
He snorts and rolls his eyes. "Just a little." He throws his bag on the ground and launches himself on the bed, ignoring my squeak when he crushes all my notes.
Twelve hours ago, he was leaving our hotel room to cut the last few pounds before weigh-ins. He's never been a big fan of huge weight cuts before fights but cutting even ten pounds in twenty-four hours will make a man grumpy.
"Everything go okay?" I ask as he settles his head in my lap. I lean back against the headboard and start to run my fingers through his hair.
"Yup. Got the last few pounds off this morning and weighed in right at 185 at weigh-ins. I feel great. I'm glad I didn't do a huge cut this time." He reaches up to twirl a strand of my still-blonde hair around his finger. "I hung out with the guys for a while so I could rehydrate and snack, and then we went out for a late lunch. Found a great steakhouse not far from here. I'll probably pass out early tonight but at least I'm in the eye of the storm for the rest of the day today. Nothing to do but relax and enjoy my wife. Then tomorrow the stress starts back up again."
I smile down at him. "You're going to do great. My fight gut is telling me we're coming home with that belt tomorrow."
He grins and tugs on my hair. "Your fight gut, huh? Well God knows that thing has never been wrong." He sobers and looks around the hotel room. "Are you hungry? Did you order anything today?"
I shake my head. "I haven't been hungry lately. I think I'm so wrapped up in this new book that I forget to eat sometimes. I'll order some room service tonight."
