“I understand why you did what you did, but as much as I am trying to get past it, I don’t seem to be able to. Three years! You had three years in which to tell me about them! Even had I married Jessica or anyone else for that matter. They are still my kids … MINE! You had no right to keep that from me.”
“You are right, I didn’t.” She sighed and looked back at the kids. “I will phone Mom and cancel tonight.”
“Why?”
She glared at him. “Have you looked at me lately, Tristan? Really looked at me? I don’t want them to see me this way!”
He did look at her and noticed again what he did earlier, but refused to let it sway him from his course.
“Playing the martyr won’t work with me, honey. I feel no remorse in taking retribution for what you did. Nor am I ready to let it go.”
He walked to the door and turned back to her, his voice dark.
“The twins need to get to know all the family in their lives. They deserve all the love the family has to offer. If you decide to cancel this dinner, your need for release might just extend to two. If you don’t, we both will find what we need from each other tonight!”
He laughed when she threw a glass at his head that shattered against the wall, and he sauntered to the twins to greet them before he left.
“Such fire, Honey. Rather leave that for when we are alone … you might just sway me to forget I am supposed to be furious with you!”
Chapter Ten
Tristan’s stomach was tied in knots when he arrived home late that afternoon, not knowing what to expect. He dreaded the task ahead if she did indeed cancel the dinner. It would mean he had to keep to the promise he made … extending her … release.
God, how he hated the path he decided to take! He dreaded every night, even if hearing her hoarse voice begging him, pleading him was food to his soul, purely because she responded with such passion and wantonness to him and unable to deny him anything. But her cries when he spurt his release inside her nearly crippled him every night, knowing how she hated trying to pleasure herself in front of him and that it was in vain, as he always pulled her hands away before she hurled over the edge.
His hands shook when he reached for the door, the silence meeting him tore through him and he sighed dejectedly. He walked to the family room and found the kids on the floor with their coloring books and crayons, Hetta keeping them company. They screeched when they noticed him and hurled their little bodies into his arms and he caught them, hugging them close. He would never tire of this ritual. Every night their excitement knew no bounds when he arrived home, and it was balm to his tortured soul.
He knew in his heart he had Savannah to thank for that. If she did not bring them up with the knowledge of him, this would have been so much more difficult. Now it was only as if they had not seen him for a long time.
He kissed each cheek and put them back on the floor, praising their coloring skill they were so proud of. He glanced at Hetta.
“Where is Savannah?”
“In the kitchen.”
He went in search of her with a heavy heart and abruptly stopped when he found her just removing a steaming dish from the oven. His eyes lit up when he noticed all the prepared dishes stacked around the kitchen, Daisy, his cook and housekeeper bustling alongside her. She noticed him watching her and froze.
“What are you doing?”
“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m cooking for your guests you invited!”
Daisy disappeared the moment Savannah snapped her answer at him. He was filled with too much joy to take exception.
“Daisy is more than capable of preparing the meal. You don’t have to slave away in the kitchen.”
She speared an annoyed glare at him and his smile broadened. He loved her spunk.
“Are you forbidding me your kitchen?”
He sighed heavily. “No, of course not. I just did not expect you to …”
“I am a good cook and I love to bake, so I enjoy it at times. What time is it?”
He glanced at his watch, confirming the time.
“Then I suggest you change if you intend to. They should arrive soon.”
She paid him little mind, continuing chopping vegetables for the salad she was preparing and he walked up to her, folded his arms around her shoulders and hugged her back against him.
“Thank you, honey.” She stiffened.
“For what?” Her voice suddenly husky.
“Not cancelling dinner.” She snorted and snapped.
“I would not dare. If nothing else, I have learned self-perseverance over the years. I will not be able to stand another week of withholding my release, not after you have been drawing it out longer and longer every night the past week!”
Her voice gave way and he cursed, when he thought back and realized it was exactly what he did. Good Lord, but not intentionally, he enjoyed her body so much, found so much pleasure in her gasps of need, that he took his time in finding his own unsatisfactory release every night!
He was not going to admit that to her though and sighed, placing a soft kiss on the side of her neck.
“Just accept my thanks, honey.” Another kiss, longer this time. “I do love you in my arms and you should not try and anger me, I can always find another reason to … extend your need.”
She turned in his arms, her eyes blazing hot into his.
“No! I did what you demanded! You can’t just change the rules as and when it pleases you!”
He cursed viciously and nearly slapped her. “And since when have you ever given in to my demands! You always fou …”
“Since you turned me into your sex slave! Making me weak with need so that I can neither think nor crave anything else day in and day out … counting the days when it is over and I can breathe again!”
His jaw was rigid, his eyes balls of silver fire. He pushed against her, until her back was against the island behind her and she had nowhere to go.
“Then I am happy to see all my effort was not in vain!”
“No … stop … oh God, please not now … not with them coming.”
She keened pleadingly when he pulled her dress up over her hips, his hand gripping her G-string between his fingers and his eyes held hers captive when the flimsy material snapped between them. She shook her head, but his hand stroked over her hip to grip her heated mound and she gasped. He watched her face, pleased at the immediate desire when he stroked her clit and her agonized mewl when he pushed three of his fingers deep inside her.
He started plunging and stroking her clit with his thumb at the same time. She ground her hips uncontrollably against his hand. He leaned over and kissed the pulsing vein in her neck. Her face was a picture of need and he smiled softly, but his voice was hoarse when he whispered.
“Open your eyes, Savannah, and look at me.”
She did and the need in them begged him helplessly. He smiled again, increasing the pressure on her clit, plunging his fingers faster into her wet, clingy sheath.
“Come for me, honey. Yes … oh yes, baby … that’s it … now … come now, Savannah!”
And she shattered around his fingers, his mouth on hers caught her soft scream when the orgasm hit her, and he continued, pinching and plunging until the spasms inside her started to subside. He withdrew his hand from her, pulled her tight against him and kissed her deeply, his erection pressing furiously against her stomach. He held her until her trembling stopped and stepped away from her, his fingers caressing softly down her cheek.
“You could have stopped the retribution long ago, Savannah, had you really wanted to.”
He turned away and walked out of the kitchen, leaving her staring after him, her body still trembling with need, wondering at his cryptic statement. Maybe she should not just accept his actions! Maybe she should resist and fight back, not meekly accept what he did because of her own guilt! He used to be so tender and loving and that was the man she wanted back.
He just gave her a small respite, to deal
with the rest of the evening more relaxed. She went to call Daisy and asked her to finish the salad and took a quick shower before her parents and sister arrived, still puzzling over what he had said.
The evening was a huge success, with the twins in the center of all of it. They basked in the attention and entertained them throughout the evening with funny anecdotes. Savannah was slightly more relaxed after the incident in the kitchen and enjoyed spending time with her family. She missed them more than she realized and sighed softly where she sat on the arm of the couch watching them on her father’s lap, playing with his beard.
Tristan came in from the kitchen, having taken the empty glasses away and sat on the couch next to her. She gasped when he drew her onto his lap and his arms folded around her, forcing her to lean back against his chest. She sighed and did as he demanded, not wanting to make a scene in front of everyone.
The conversation around them continued as if it was a normal occurrence for her to sit on his lap and the twins smiles beamed at them. After a while he realized she stiffened and her breathing became shallow, he looked at her and noticed the slight flush on her face. He groaned and realized he has been stroking her arm, down her back and was now fondling her ear and soft skin at the back of her neck. He has not given her a proper release in a week and the one in the kitchen did not really count and here he was arousing her even further.
He drew his arms around her and pulled her tight against him, placing a soft kiss on her temple, and whispered in her ear, “I am sorry, honey! It was not intentional, I swear!”
She nodded and eventually relaxed against him again. She realized Leandra asked her a question and looked at her questioningly. She laughed and shook her head.
“I wanted to know when you are going to go back to singing.”
Tristan stiffened against her and he rose, pushing her down on the couch at the same time. He went to stand by the window, his gaze fastened on her, waiting for her answer.
She looked at him when she did, needing him to trust her, to start believing in her, in their future together.
“I am not going back.”
“You’re not? What do you mean? Not going back to Los Angeles or not sing at all anymore?”
“Well, we’ve already moved back here, so yes, I have no intention of going back to LA and I am also not going to sing anymore.”
Everyone stared at her questioningly, but Leandra was the only one who voiced her concerns.
“Not sing anymore? Why not? You have a fantastic voice and a following all around the world! Why would you give that up?”
She speared a glance at Tristan noticing his rigid jaw, but his face was devoid of any expression. She sighed softly.
“Singing was never going to be long term, as a matter of fact, I never intended for it to carry on as long as it did. It was a way to … to give voice to … emotions. My agent is already looking for someone to replace me.”
“What do you mean replace you?” This from her mother.
“No one knew the person behind Purple Pearl; I kept my identity secret; they are looking for someone with a voice similar to mine to become the Purple Pearl.”
She glanced at Tristan, wondering at his continued angry stance and sighed again. Would she ever win? Nothing she seemed to do, met with his approval.
“Are you going to go back to Architecture, then?” asked her father.
She shook her head sadly. “No Dad, I have lost touch with how things have changed over time. I actually … write.”
Tristan frowned. “You write?”
She smiled and shrugged. “Yes, I write songs. I have written all my own songs and quite a few for other artists.”
“Really … who?” Leandra leaned forward eagerly.
Savannah laughed, feeling completely relaxed for the first time this evening.
“Hmm … let’s see, I write all the songs for the American idols, I write for Bobby McClare, Sarah Wilson, Hunting Eagles, Red Socks, Dave Seegers, Wannabees … too many to mention… and of course all Purple Pearl’s.”
“My goodness that is a whole career on its own! How did you manage to keep up with being Purple Pearl, writing and the twins?”
“Hetta has been my right hand for years. I would never have survived without her. She and the twins always went with on tours and apart from that I didn’t really have much of a … a social life.”
She smiled as she was bombarded with questions and tried to answer them all, cognizant of the fact that Tristan stood brooding by the window.
It was very late when everyone left and the twins were put to bed. Savannah dragged her feet walking into their room, not sure what to expect. Tristan was very quiet the last part of the evening, not even assisted with putting the twins to bed, which he insisted on doing from their first night here.
He stood staring out to sea when she walked in, his back ramrod straight, his arms folded over his chest. She sighed, grabbed pajamas from the cupboard and took a quick shower to cool down. He was still standing where she left him and she got into bed, rather than disturb his pondering. His head swung to her when she got under the sheet and he raised a sardonic eyebrow at her.
“Since when have I allowed you to sleep with pajamas? Take it off, Savannah. You know I like to feel your naked skin against mine at night.”
“I do? Just how am I supposed to know that?”
He shook his head and smirked. “The fact that I can’t keep my hands off you should be enough to tell you.”
His eyebrows rose and she humpfed, ripping the offending satin nighty off and threw it on the chair. His eyes were glued on her bouncing breasts and she flushed.
He smiled. “Amazing that you still blush after everything we have been doing since you came back.”
Her cheeks colored even more and he laughed, turned towards the bathroom and she heard the shower running.
When he returned she was fast asleep, curled up on her side, facing the center of the bed. He sighed heavily, thinking back on the evening as he settled next to her and drew her against his side, smiling when her head found its resting place against his chest.
He did not know what to make of the emotions running through his mind. The fact that she had no intention of singing anymore filled his heart with joy. It was the one thing that scared him, that she would need the glitz and glamor in her life. He could not help but wonder though, what really drove that decision. Was it him? Would she eventually blame him when she craved the crowds and the excitement of being on a stage, voicing her emotions, without having anyone question the why?
He didn’t understand the intensity of his feelings towards her. The continued resentment that she didn’t tell him about the twins just would not lessen. Every time he held them close, he found out something new and soaked in their laughter and happiness and anger reverberated through him anew. Yet, he basked in her devotion to them, how she always drew him close, to be part of them in anything they did. No matter how much she suffered at his hands the night before, she never used it against him, rather she enticed him closer.
He frowned and stared into the shadows. He didn’t hate her … would never be able to hate her. He sighed heavily. Nor would he be able to open his heart to her … not yet anyway. But his continued retribution .. maybe he was taking it too far and he should end it. Rather make her want and desire him with her natural passion than the ones he forced on her.
He still did not trust her. Every time Walt stormed into his office or phone him when he was on a site, fear clamped around his heart. Fear that he would tell him she fled again.
How would she feel, he wondered if she realized he had a whole team watching her and the twins? That every movement of theirs, were reported to him, even around the house and when they’re down at the beach for a swim.
He became aware of the slight trembling of her body against his, her hands clutching his side and her legs moving restlessly against his. He stroked his hand down her back, over her hip and a tortured moan escaped her lips. He
lifted her chin with a finger and his lips closed over her, softly stroking and pressing until her lips languidly opened. His tongue surged inside, kissing her deeply and demandingly until she kissed him back, her arms curling around his neck.
He pushed her on her back and settled between her thighs, pressing his throbbing shaft home inside her and she mewled, straining her hips against him. He exulted in the fact that she was always wet, hot and ready for him, without him having to do anything more than kiss her.
He whispered in her ear and she moaned, first angrily at what he said and then in expectation of what lay ahead.
“You did well, tonight, honey and I need you now.” He pulled out slowly and then plunged back in, hard. “No retribution, just us … take as much as you need …”
Savannah woke refreshed and completely relaxed the following morning and she stretched her muscles lazily and smiled. She turned over and realized she was alone in the bed.
A bright flush spread over her cheeks, remembering his ‘take as much as you need’ whisper in her ear and how she did just that. Her need was so great she came within seconds after grinding her hips against him, and over and over again throughout the night.
She was demanding, and everything she demanded he gave. Even allowing her to turn him on his back. She took him into her to ride him, drawing groans of pleasure from his lips. Yet, never once did he make any demands on her … he’d given one night of pure passion.
A whisper she remembered from early this morning when she eventually fell asleep and she frowned in realization. He promised pure passion and need … not retribution! Did that mean his heart was softening towards her?
She found Tristan and the kids on the patio facing the sea. The twins jumped up and hugged her fiercely.
“You slept late, Mommy, but Daddy would not let us wake you.” She blushed and Tristan laughed. Jason looked at her questioningly.
“Aren’t you going to kiss, Daddy too, Mommy?”
“Yes, Savannah, aren’t you going to kiss Daddy too?” Tiffany giggled and grabbing Savannah’s hand, pulled her to Tristan, who took the proffered hand and pulled her onto his lap.
Payback Time, Baby Page 10
