As I get closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy, I dig my nails into his back, devouring the rawness of this moment. Just like the experience of getting high, having Tristan inside me makes me renounce every conscious thought. One minute I’m here, aware of every sound, touch, and sight, and the next I’m somewhere else outside my body, transcending all time, thought, and space.
Floating.
up, Up, UP.
Flying.
Euphoric.
Tingly. Senseless.
Numb.
I give myself over to the complete and utter ecstasy that occurs when you surrender every fiber of your being. My body is rendered paralyzed, but it’s the kind of numb you experience as a result of feeling too much.
Tristan’s release comes only seconds after mine and he murmurs “Fuck!” on a tortured groan as my muscles contract around him. A sheen of sweat covers both of our bodies and our breathing is hard and ragged. We fall silent as our heartbeats return to a normal pace.
I’m unaware of how many minutes pass before Tristan subtly clears his throat and I realize I’m still wrapped tightly around him. Startled by the tingling in my fingers and toes as I regain my senses, I ease off him and shift back over to the passenger seat. We each pull our pants back on without saying anything.
The clinking of Tristan’s belt as he secures it around his waist is the loudest thing I’ve ever heard.
We sit in complete silence, fully clothed again in the dark. Things between us have never felt more awkward, and I’m wondering if he’s completely regretting what just happened. I am searching for something, anything, to say to break the silence when a car barreling down the deserted road with its high beams on surprises us both.
Tristan glances in the rearview mirror and twists the key to turn the engine over. He sounds emotionless when he states, “I should get you home.”
He doesn’t look at me, instead focusing all his attention on driving to my house. I wasn’t expecting to cuddle or share a cigarette or anything, but some type of acknowledgement that we just had explosive sex in his truck in the middle of the night might be nice.
Or maybe it was just explosive for me?
He pulls on to my street but stops the car before going up the driveway. All he says is, “We’ll see each other around, OK?”
I nod, trying to feel nothing. It was just sex, Hazel. Handle it. “Yeah, see you around.”
I get out of the truck and slam the door shut. As soon as I start walking up the drive I hear Tristan drive off. I should feel angry and used, and maybe part of me does, but I also don’t remember a time I’ve felt more alive. Sure, it wasn’t the first time I’ve had sex with Tristan Sharp, but it was the first time I was sober enough to feel something much deeper than just the physical part. If this is what it feels like to get to know Tristan Sharp again, I’m not sure what the hell I’m going to do about it.
We came to believe that a Power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity.
Tristan
Eleven Years Ago
“Can you believe how crazy this shit is? Man, I fucking love high school,” Logan yells over the loud music.
I look across the room and see two girls making out while a crowd surrounds them and cheers them on. I saw each chick do a keg stand about five minutes prior, so I’m sure that has something to do with their sudden mutual attraction.
House parties are pretty much a Friday night regular around here, and under normal circumstances I’d be just as thrilled as Logan to be witnessing this display. In fact I’m about to join him in the cheering, but when I catch a glimpse of Hazel with that asshole Dougie D, I can’t focus on anything else. I look around the room for Ryan, hoping he’s keeping tabs on his sister. I see him lounging in the kitchen with Johnny and they’re both obviously trashed. I curse under my breath and put down my own beer to head in her direction.
I’ve been friends with Ryan and Hazel ever since Logan and I were placed in a foster home a few blocks from their house. When I was eight we were on the school playground eating lunch when I saw this douche named Bradley Nuberger try to steal an innocent little girl’s sandwich. It wasn’t that I was particularly chivalrous, but the kid had spent the morning shooting spitballs at my head so I was looking for a chance to deck him. Just as I got ready to kick him in the shins, this spunky little girl pulled her arm back and knocked his front tooth out. Then she cried on my shoulder because she felt bad.
I’m not sure if that was the exact moment I fell in love with Hazel Blake, but it sure was the moment I felt this instinctive duty to protect her. Sure she was tough on the outside, but she still needed someone to comfort her.
And I liked feeling needed.
As we grew up, Logan and I fell into a good rhythm with Ryan and his best friend, Lucas, and the four of us became tight. Once puberty hit I found myself drawn to Hazel’s soft curves and beautiful face, but since she’s Ryan’s little sister I’ve tried to keep my horny hands to myself. Recently I’ve noticed her falling in with a bad crowd—the kind of people known for doing and dealing drugs. It might not be any of my business, but I can’t sit back and watch Hazel get messed up in that shit. It’s not the first time I’ve seen her with this douche Dougie, but I certainly want it to be the last.
I walk up beside her, shoving my hands casually in my pockets. “Hey.”
She smiles when she sees me. “Hey, yourself.”
A tipsy girl stumbles near us, and I use the opportunity to grab Hazel’s hips and move her a few steps to the right, away from Dougie.
“What’s up? I haven’t seen you around lately.” I try to keep the conversation casual, stalling as I think of how to get her out of here.
She shrugs. “Not much. You know, just hanging out.” She looks back at Dougie, who is talking in hushed tones to someone else. I catch what I perceive as a hint of anxiety in Hazel’s eyes, so I figure now is my chance.
“Hey, you wanna get out of here for a bit?”
Almost immediately she responds, “Sure.”
I grab her hand and pull her through the crowded party. We go outside and get in my car, a beat-up Chevy that Logan and I bought after saving every penny we made for a year.
I start driving and only a few miles later we pull down a dirt road that leads to a small wooded clearing. It’s practically hidden if you don’t know about it, but I accidentally discovered the path a few months ago when my foster mother pissed me off. Ever since, I’ve been coming here when I need someplace to get away. By the way lights from the town shine in the distance and the stars twinkle above, it feels like you’re in the middle of some sort of galaxy—a private universe where time moves at its own pace and everything is art.
I pull the car under a set of trees off to the left, and Hazel looks around in fascination as she gets out.
“What is this place?” she asks.
I pop the trunk and grab an old blanket. “A secret.”
She tilts her head up to the sky and wraps her arms around herself.
I spread the blanket out on the ground and sit down.
I try not to let it get to me that I can smell Hazel’s hair as she settles down next to me.
“I like it here.”
“I like it, too.”
“Tell me something about yourself.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know. Since this is a secret place, why not tell me a secret about yourself?”
I grunt. “I hate mushrooms. They creep me out.”
“For real?” Hazel laughs. I think it’s my favorite sound.
“Yup. They’re spongy and weird and I can’t stand them.” I nod at her. “Your turn.”
She thinks about it for a second. “Someday I want to live in a house with a purple door.”
Not what I was expecting. “How come?” I genuinely want to know.
She lifts her shoulder, then lets it drop. “Because I want to. And it’s just a bonus that it would piss off my mother. She’d be horrified.” She laugh
s again. Yup, definitely my favorite sound.
“Fair enough.”
“So is this where you lure girls to try and seduce them?” She changes the subject.
I lean back on my hands and smirk. “Maybe. Would you like to be seduced?”
She shrugs, trying to conceal her own smile. “Maybe. Although you’d actually be the first to try.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Come on, I don’t believe that.” The thought of Hazel with anybody else suddenly makes me angry.
“I guess that’s another secret you know about me now.”
“Seriously?”
She blushes. “I’m sure you must think that’s super lame.”
“Why would I think that?”
“Because I see the way girls throw themselves at you.”
“So?”
“So I’m sure you’d rather be out having fun with one of them than sitting here with me talking about how I haven’t even had my first kiss yet.”
“I’m the one who asked you here, remember?”
She smiles before looking out at the lights shining in the distance. “True.”
I stare at her. I can’t help myself. She’s nothing I expected, yet everything I want.
She notices I’m staring.
She asks in a soft voice, “Why do you look at me like that?”
“Like what?”
“Like you see me.”
“Because I do.”
A pause.
“We should probably get back to the party.” She says this, but doesn’t move.
I keep my eyes locked with hers.
“Yeah, we probably should.” I don’t move either.
Another pause.
“Hazel,” I say, exhaling a sharp breath.
“Yeah,” she says, inhaling a sharp breath.
“Want to know another secret?”
I lean forward.
She nods.
In one quick, fluid motion I grab her neck, pulling it so close my lips can taste hers.
My tongue slips past her teeth, and she makes the most arousing noise in the back of her throat that reverberates through her entire body.
With my eyes closed I get to see her in a whole new way.
Her skin is soft and warm.
She smells like flowers.
Our mouths fit perfectly together.
For thirty whole seconds nothing has ever felt more right.
I pull back because I need to look at her again. Her green eyes sparkle back.
“That was my first kiss, too.”
She smiles before biting her lip.
Turns out we would be each other’s firsts in ways that went way past kissing.
We made a decision to turn our will and our lives over to the care of God as we understood Him.
Tristan
Remember when I thought screwing Hazel Blake would get her out of my system?
Turns out that was a huge crock of shit.
It’s been three days since we fucked in my truck and I’m no closer to forgetting her than I was before our roadside quickie. Hopefully some exercise will help clear my head.
I’m shooting a few quick hoops with Logan and Lucas for our usual Friday, post-work game at the park. The basketball court is off to the side of a large, grassy field and is surrounded by picnic tables. A few yards away are a small swing set and slide. It’s a cool, crisp evening, and despite the ominous dark clouds in the sky, we figured we could at least get a quick game in.
Ryan used to join us, too, but ever since he knocked up Kelley we haven’t seen much of him. Probably for the best, especially after what happened at the baby shower.
I shuffle my feet and move to steal the basketball before going in for a layup. Swish.
“Jesus, Luc, where were you on that one?” Logan chokes, trying to catch his breath.
Before he can respond I interject with “Ever since he got hitched he’s lost his edge. Must be too tired from picking out china patterns or doing couple’s yoga or whatever the fuck it is married people do.” I toss the ball back to Lucas.
“You’re just jealous, man. Unlike you, I no longer have to troll bars in order to get laid. Monogamy has its perks. You might want to try it sometime.”
I roll my eyes. I’d never admit I’m secretly happy for the guy. If anyone deserves a good relationship it’s Lucas. He’s probably one of the most loyal, honest people I know. But he doesn’t need that shit going to his head, so instead I snicker. “You know who always tries to convince you fucking one person for the rest of your life is actually a good thing? Resentful married guys who realize they’re the ones who will only get to fuck one person for the rest of their lives.”
Both Lucas and Logan laugh before moving to the side of the court to get a drink of water. I follow suit, grabbing my phone from my duffle bag to check my text messages. I have a few updates from CJ about the Collins Street house and a note about a shipment of lumber I ordered, but it’s the last message that makes me tense.
HAZEL: Hey. I think we should talk . . . come over tonight?
Fuck. This can’t be good.
I debate not answering, but I know that would only delay shit. Better to man up and get this over with.
ME: I’ll be there in an hour.
I throw my phone back in my bag and sling it over my shoulder.
“Where you off to, bro? I thought we were going to Chaser’s for a drink.” Logan looks confused.
I shake my head. “Something came up. Rain check?”
“Fine, but remember we have that party for DSGN tomorrow night.”
“I thought you guys got rid of them ages ago.” I swear I can’t keep up with Logan and Lucas’ venture capital firm. How that world works seems like a bunch of bullshit, if you ask me. I prefer to get my hands dirty with some good old-fashioned manual labor, but to each his own. I guess they know what they’re doing. And I’m certainly not one to turn down a free invite.
“Technically we made our investment back so they bought us out, but we keep in touch. Ever since they signed with Parker & Peterman Industries and went public last year their stock has skyrocketed. They have more money than they know what to do with.” He zips up his sweatshirt and smiles. “Hey, it’s free booze and babes.”
“Then I’m there.”
I say goodbye to the guys and head to my truck. I have just enough time to go home and shower before going to Hazel’s. Time to figure our shit out so I can get back to my life.
Hazel
I see the flash of Tristan’s headlights as he pulls up to the pool house right at eight. I’m actually kind of surprised he didn’t blow me off.
After the other night, once my lust-induced stupor wore off, I realized that as much as I might always have feelings for Tristan, he probably will never feel the same about me . . . and I can’t say I blame him. I may be clean now, but that doesn’t mean my destructive tendencies have magically disappeared. Every single day it’s a struggle to make the right choices. I live with a constant fear of fucking things up again, and I think I’ve hurt Tristan enough for one lifetime already. I have no business trying to start up a serious relationship with him, nor do I want to risk hurting him. All I want is a friend, and Tristan always understood me better than anyone.
But there is also no denying that we definitely share a mutual physical attraction, so is it really so wrong to indulge in that, if we both agree it’s just sex? I’m not sure I can fully explain the feeling I got having Tristan consume every part of me in his truck the other night, but it’s something I’d do anything to experience again. All we need to do is talk and get everything out in the open. Then we can start over.
Above the mellow beat of the music I have playing throughout the apartment I hear him knock. I smooth my hair and my dress and open the door, smiling. “Hey, I’m glad you came.”
A crack of thunder booms in the distance.
He moves past me and before I can even pretend to make small talk he asks, “What do you want to talk about?�
�
I close the door, lean against it, and take one big, deep breath to settle my nerves. “I want to know why you really wanted to fuck me the other night,” I blurt. “You went from barely talking on the way to the baby shower to practically stalking me at three in the morning. Was it just some type of revenge? A sick way to get back at me for . . . for what I did?” My stomach rolls at the thought, not because I’d blame him, but because I know I’d deserve it. I mean look at me; I can barely admit out loud that I broke his heart in the most cruel, selfish way possible.
Tristan grins. “And what if it was?” Another loud roar of thunder cuts through the air, this time sounding closer.
My heart drops. “I get it, T, you’re mad at me. Hell, I’m mad at me, too. I did a lot of stuff I wish I could take back and I’m just trying to get past it all. But I really didn’t call you to stir shit up. I hoped maybe enough time had passed that we could just see where things go and maybe be friends again.” My voice trails off as I realize how inadequate that sounds.
“And why the hell do you want to be friends with me?” Tristan spits roughly. His anger is more than justified, but it still hurts.
I admit truthfully, “Because you were my best friend, Tristan. And I fucked it up. And maybe it’s selfish of me, but you were the only person who ever seemed to care about me. I don’t have anybody else.”
He stands his ground, staring at me. “I can’t save you, Hazel. I’m not that guy. I never was. Now I prefer to keep my shit to myself and fuck for the fun of it. I don’t do commitment and I like to keep my options open. I’m not interested in or capable of anything more.”
My lungs constrict at his brutal honesty, but I understand. “Then it’s a good thing I’m not looking for more,” I reply, forcing myself to look at his face, even though I can’t make direct eye contact. “I’m not exactly in a position to get involved with anyone, not in any serious way. I’ve spent my entire life trying to escape who I was and now I just want a chance to be free . . . to live in the moment and figure the rest out as I go.”
Sick Pleasure (Crazy Beautiful Book 3) Page 6
