by Snow, Jenika
Finding strength she didn’t know she possessed, she took a step back, but Kash moved with her. When she took another one, retreating, he took one forward until she felt the wall behind her. She continued to stare up at him, knowing that what she wanted to do with him was wrong on so many levels.
The words to tell him just that were there, in her mind, but she couldn’t force them past her lips. His hot breath skittered across her face, and the scent drove her desire higher. She could smell the hops from the beer he’d drunk, could even smell a hint of whiskey beneath that.
He let her hand drop from beneath his, but he didn’t move away. “Kash.” She whispered his name and watched as he closed his eyes again.
“Tristan.” He said her name like they were having sex—raw, powerful, erotic. When he opened his eyes again, they glowed like emeralds on fire.
He moved an inch closer, and Tristan gasped when she felt his erection press against her belly. He felt huge, but Tristan wasn’t surprised. He was big all over. He lowered his head until their lips were mere inches apart. Their breaths mingled together as their eyes stayed locked. She knew that if she leaned in just a little, her lips would press against his.
The idea was tempting, but Tristan reminded herself how things could go terribly wrong in the next instant.
Kash lifted his hands and placed them on her shoulders. The act itself wasn’t overly erotic if an outsider were to see, but when she felt his palms touch her, a bolt of lightning sang through her body. Her pussy clenched involuntarily, and she had to hold back the groan that would have spilled forth. The knowledge of what he wore wasn’t lost on her. All she would have to do was reach down and yank the terry cloth away from him.
“If you knew who I truly was, you wouldn’t be so aroused.” With that he pushed away from her and stalked back to his room, shutting the door behind him.
She stared at his now-closed bedroom door and tried to catch her breath. What the hell was that about? Had she misinterpreted what had just happened? She had most definitely felt his hard shaft pressed against her, and the heated look he had given her had said he wanted her, but his comment confused her.
Tristan should be happy he’d stopped before things escalated, but there was something inside of her, that feeling that she’d been trying to smash down since he first moved in, that screamed she needed more, wanted more.
She moved away from the wall with unsteady legs and slipped into her room. When the door was shut behind her, she leaned against it and closed her eyes. They may not have done anything, but what had just happened out there certainly made things more difficult.
* * *
Nice way to keep your fucking distance.
The urge to slam his fist into something was strong, but he closed his eyes and took a deep, steadying breath. When he’d come out of the bathroom and seen her standing there, her desire for him tangible, all rational thought had fled his mind. He’d stalked toward her like she was his prey. Her scent had been so incredibly addicting, so arousing that his cock had stood straight at attention and nearly tear right through the towel slung low on his hips.
And then he’d seen her eyes grow wide and innocent when she’d dipped her gaze to what was hidden behind the material. All he could think about was ripping it away from his body, pinning her to the wall, and slamming all his hard inches into her.
The sweet torture of his thoughts was painfully intense.
When some of his self-hatred had ebbed, he opened his eyes and stared at his bed. How many times in the past week alone had he pictured her sprawled out on that very mattress? Way too many times to count. Even now he could still smell her … like strawberries and vanilla. Yeah, he’d always been a fan of that combination.
His shaft ached something awful, and he parted the towel and grabbed himself. Teeth gritted, all he could think about was Tristan. Sweet, innocent Tristan who looked at him with lust and need. But she didn’t know half of the monster he truly was. He could just picture her reaction when he told her that little bit of information about himself.
Frustrated, he let go of his erection and dropped the towel. No, there would be no release for him tonight. He climbed into bed naked, wishing that things were a hell of a lot different.
11
Tristan leaned against the counter and stared out the window.
“You know what I heard?”
She held her phone between her ear and shoulder as she fixed herself something to eat. “What?” She was only half listening to Kylie. The majority of her attention was stuck on the other night.
Several days had passed since her run-in with Kash in the hall. Even thinking about it now had her stomach dropping and her heart racing. Of course she hadn’t seen him since. His ridiculous work schedule had him locked away sleeping during the day and gone all hours of the night.
She kept replaying what he’d whispered against her mouth right before he pulled back. “If you knew who I truly was, you wouldn’t be so aroused.”
Had that been a warning that he wanted her to stay away? Was he hiding some criminal background? A plethora of things that he could have meant by that statement played over and over in her mind.
“Tristan? Did you hear what I said?”
She snapped out of her musing and cleared her throat. “I’m sorry, no, I didn’t hear you.”
Kylie sighed loudly. “I heard Jayson talking on the phone about … Max.”
Just the sound of his name had her stomach growing queasy. It had been over three months since she’d been involved in the encounter with Max, yet it was still so fresh in her mind.
“Oh?” Her voice was soft, distant.
“Yeah. I guess Michael—you remember him, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, Michael said he saw him at Emilio’s Pizzeria, practically molesting some woman against the side of the building.”
Tristan swallowed. “How does he know it was him? I mean, I thought no one really knew him or saw him.” Tristan closed her eyes and tried not to puke. She didn’t want anyone knowing about what happened. She didn’t want the attention. “Please tell me Michael doesn’t know about Max, please.” Tristan had made Kylie promise not to go to the police. It had been a hard argument, but in the end Tristan had won that small victory, if it could even be called that.
She didn’t want this dragged out, especially since she didn’t even know the guy’s last name. She and Kylie both knew there was nothing the cops could do. Aside from filling out a police report, which wouldn’t help them catch the would-be rapist.
“God, no. You know I would never tell people about what happened, not after you asked me not to.” A moment of silence passed between them. “He just said he remembered Jayson asking about him and how Michael remembered him from the party. I guess when Michael approached him and asked him about the party, Max got all defensive and up in his face. Michael said he was pretty trashed and the girl didn’t look any better.”
Tristan instantly worried, but Kylie cleared her concern about that with her next sentence.
“The girl told Michael to fuck off, and they both walked away. They haven’t seen him since.” Kylie gave a short laugh. “Can you believe someone telling Michael to fuck off? That’s like someone telling Kash to go fuck himself.”
Michael was a beast of a man, but no doubt he’d been more dumbstruck than angry that someone had talked to him like that. Tristan breathed a sigh of relief.
“Jayson took a call at, like, ten last night. I didn’t know it was Michael at the time, but as he continued to talk, I could see Jayson getting angrier. I questioned him about it when he got off the phone.”
The sick feeling in Tristan’s stomach intensified at the realization that Emilio’s was a ten-minute drive from her house and far too close for comfort. He was so close.
Too close.
What if he came back looking for her? He knew where she lived, after all. Fear reared its ugly head inside of her, but she reminded herself it had been three
months since that happened. If he wanted her, he would have come by now. Besides, Kash was here, which made her feel safe.
“Hey, I didn’t mean to upset you. I just wanted to let you know that they are not going to let this son of a bitch get away with it.”
Tristan breathed out roughly, and she could envision Kylie scowling. “I don’t want anyone doing anything about it, Kylie. I just want to forget that night ever happened.” The other end of the phone was silent, and Tristan closed her eyes.
“I know, hun, but what he did to you, what he was about to do to you, doesn’t sit well with a lot of people. They want blood.”
“Kash handled it.” The memory of Max’s face looking like raw meat slammed into her mind. Kash had been a monster, and he’d done it for her. No fear could come from that moment, not when he’d done it to protect her. She just wondered where in the hell he’d learned to fight like that.
Even through the haze of her drugged memory, she’d seen how calculated his moves were, how he’d expertly dodged Max’s feeble attempts to swing back. Kash had known what he was doing very well.
“I just want to forget.”
Kylie finally—if grudgingly—got off the phone with her. Tristan stood there for several minutes, thinking back on everything. Her feelings for Kash were not dimming in the slightest, despite his continuing absence. It was like the longer she didn’t see him, the more she wanted him.
12
Tristan rubbed the sleep from her eyes as she walked down the stairs. She’d worked late last night and didn’t get to bed until after midnight. Of course, Kash’s truck hadn’t been in the driveway, but then again, it rarely was at night.
An envelope sat on the kitchen table when she finally entered the kitchen. Her name was scrolled across the front of it. She opened it and found a wad of crisp, brand-new one-hundred-dollar bills inside. She felt her eyes widen as she counted them. There was the next two months’ rent inside as well as the utilities.
Holy shit.
She shoved the bills in the envelope and reminded herself to ask Kash about it. He was under no obligation to pay her so much up front. She walked over to the coffeepot and started to brew herself some liquid caffeine. Glancing out her kitchen window, she saw Kash’s black truck in the driveway. Her heart instantly sped up at the knowledge that he was home.
She felt like a hormone-raging adolescent. What she felt for Kash went beyond infatuation. Their movie nights, those quiet times they’d talked, confided in each other. Maybe she hadn’t told him her darkest secrets, but she’d been open about whatever they’d talked about.
She should talk to Kylie about it, but at the idea of confessing how she felt for Kash, a wave of nervousness washed through her. No, she couldn’t admit any of this to Kylie, at least not yet.
The sound of a door opening upstairs had her hands clenching on the counter. Footsteps descending the stairs had her mouth going dry, and seeing him walk into the kitchen in nothing but his boxers did wicked things to her body. He was yawning and stretching at the same time. His eyes were closed, and she took that split second when he wasn’t aware to really look at him.
Of all things holy.
If she thought his abdomen was incredible with a shirt on, the sight of him bare-chested sent her into cardiac arrest. Muscles, definition, that perfectly sculpted vee on his lower stomach that disappeared beneath his boxers, were the stuff porn was made out of. Was a man supposed to even look that good? It should be illegal.
When he finally opened his eyes and saw her, he stopped. She felt herself blush at the very real possibility that he’d caught her blatantly checking him out. They stared at each other for a suspended moment, and she wondered if he was thinking about their encounter in the hallway.
She sure as fuck was.
He snapped out of whatever haze he was in, looked down at his chest and then back at her. He cleared his throat.
“I’m sorry, I’m not decent.” He lifted his lips, just a half grin that did funny things to her. “I would have gotten dressed, but I figured you were still in bed. It’s pretty early.”
Yeah, it was, but she was suddenly thankful that she’d pulled herself out of bed. If not, she wouldn’t have gotten to witness the sight before her. He turned to leave, and she stopped him.
“You don’t have to change.” She blushed and looked away. “I mean, this is where you live. You don’t need to put clothes on because of me. It isn’t like I’ve never seen a half-naked man before.” The smell of coffee alerted her to the fact she needed to grab a cup and get the hell out of there before she made a bigger fool out of herself.
Her hand was surprisingly steady as she poured herself a cup. When the mug was full, she hastily exited, but right before she left, she stole a glance over her shoulder. Kash was grabbing a cup out of the cabinet. The first thing she noticed were the muscles stretching taut across his inked skin.
As she let her gaze travel the rest of him, she looked at his big hands. Even from a distance she could see his knuckles. They were raw. Scabs hadn’t even had time to form on them yet. What in the hell does he do for a living, beat the shit out of people? The thought was an idle one, but as she climbed the stairs, she felt her brows furrow. There was a mystery to Kash, one she didn’t know if she’d ever find out.
Did she want to, though? She shook her head, trying to wash away … everything. It didn’t matter. The less she worried about it, the better she would be.
* * *
“I don’t know, Kylie.” Tristan played with an errant string that hung from the kitchen tablecloth.
“I know that”—Kylie paused for a moment before continuing—“incident is still pretty fresh, but you need to get out of the house. You’ve been cooped up at home since it happened. Aside from going to work and straight back home, you don’t do anything. Hell, I have to come to your house.” Kylie sighed heavily. “I’m not berating you because of it. Really, I’m not. I understand your reservation, but I think a little socialization would do you some good. I miss you. I miss hanging out with you, having you laugh at my dumb jokes.”
Tristan chuckled.
“We can leave if you’re hating it, promise.”
Tristan rubbed her eyes and tried to see Kylie’s point of view.
“It’s only for a few hours at most. Shannon scored one of the VIP sections, which has its own bouncer. No one will bother us, I swear.”
It wasn’t that Tristan didn’t want to. She just had reservations. But the truth was she did need to get out. She needed to break free from the prison of fear she felt. “Yeah, okay.”
It had been long enough. Hell, three months of keeping oneself sheltered in the house couldn’t be good for anyone. The weather was changing, and the chill in the air was starting to make her depressed. No, this was what she needed. At least that was what she told herself as nervousness crept to the forefront of her mind.
13
The club was packed and lively when Tristan followed Kylie and four other women through the red patent-leather doors. Music blasted all around her, and the smell of sweat, sex, and something cloyingly sweet filled the air. She’d been to the Rabbit Hole before, but it’d been years ago and not what she remembered.
She felt completely out of place.
This was a bachelorette party … a first for Tristan.
The other four women Tristan knew, but she’d call them acquaintances more than anything. She knew this night was going to be painfully awkward, especially since she promised herself she wouldn’t be drinking anything. Alcohol had always helped to loosen up her inhibitions, but since the incident with Max, she’d steered clear—when not in the safety of her home—and only allowed herself one or two drinks.
The six of them weaved their way through the overly crowded club and up a short platform. A rather massively built man stood in front of a short red velvet rope and, upon their approach, unhooked it and moved aside for them. Tristan was tense as they stepped onto their very own private VIP pad. The space wa
s small, only big enough to hold them with a little bit of elbow room, but she didn’t feel crammed like she did on the main floor. Before they could even sit down, a petite and scantily clad waitress was jotting down their drink orders.
“What do you want, Tristan?” Kylie had to bring her mouth to her ear and shout in order to be heard.
Tristan leaned back and shook her head once before mimicking Kylie and shouting back, “A bottle of water.”
The club was warm, and Tristan slipped off her jacket and flung it over one of the plush chairs. This isn’t too bad. She turned back to the bachelorette party just as a tray of shots was set on the table. After the women tried and failed to get Tristan to join in the festivities, they huddled around and started slamming back the shots.
After each shot was downed, they would lift their arms in the air and yell like a pack of Amazonians. Tristan found herself smiling. They all raised their second round of shots, shouting something in the air that Tristan couldn’t make out but knew was most likely raunchy before they threw the drinks back.
As the night progressed and the drinks kept flowing, Tristan found herself leaning over the railing that kept out any non-VIPers. The club below them was like nothing she’d seen before. The dancing looked like a scene out of Dirty Dancing. Despite the increasingly frigid air outside, the interior was stifling hot. All those gyrating bodies, grinding and pressing against one another, drummed up so much body heat it was like a damn sauna.
She let her gaze pass over the crowd once. On the second sweep a man sitting at the bar caught her eye. He was dressed in a suit, attire that seemed out of place for the atmosphere. He threw back a shot, yet his focus was directly on her. Even from the distance she could see him watching her, grinning at her. He cocked his head to the side, indicating the dance floor, and grinned wider. Tristan felt her face heat, knew instantly that was a no go.
