by Selena Kitt
During our decent, our tongues never stop. I feel him lift me slightly as he sits, and as he brings me back down, I quickly realize why: his cock is rock hard against my labia. It’s the perfect spot. The slightest friction against his erection and I’m going to be a quivering mess. I giggle again because I can tell that he is smiling through our kisses. I flick my hips ever so slightly, grinding my clit against his erection. A moan escapes his lips. The sound heats my core, and in an instant my sex is absolutely soaked. I grind again. This time I moan. I feel his cock twitch between us. Slowly I pull my mouth away from his, disengaging our lips and tongues by degrees.
Starting at his chin, I kiss and nibble my way along his jawline to his ear. He groans again and falls back into the sand, bringing me on top of him. He releases his hold on my butt and gradually drags his hands to my hips. He tugs at my hips so that my clit rubs against his cock again.
“Keep that up, Tristan,” I whisper in his ear, “and you’re going to make me come.”
He smiles and does it again, this time pressing me onto his erection just a little bit harder. He pulls and pushes, pulls and pushes, and I let out a whimpered moan against his neck. His moan in response is enough to set off the tightening of my sex. The contraction of the orgasm has me stiff and whimpering against his neck. I bite my lip to try and stop it from consuming me.
“Let me hear you, Cami. Let me hear you come.” His words have my orgasm at its peak. My eyes close and he pulls my sex against his and the bright white flashes of pure pleasure are visible behind my eyelids. Days of torture and I come unglued with friction. I release my lip and moan unabashedly against his neck. I’m panting, desperate for the air my lungs seem to be lacking.
I lie across his chest, and my breathing slowly returns to normal after a few minutes of heavy breathing. Tristan seems content to let me recover, and my heart warms at the subtle consideration for me.
I feel his hands release my hips and start stroking along my outer thighs until he feels my skirt end, a touch of skin, and the top of my thigh high stockings.
“You’re wearing stockings!” he growls.
I smile and whisper in his ear, “A garter, too.”
“Jesus fuck, you’re trying to kill me here, aren’t you?”
He pulls the hem of my skirt up, exposing my ass, and I laugh again. “I’m wearing a thong too, you know,” I whisper wickedly.
“Fuck me! You are going to kill me.”
“I don’t see what’s stopping you.”
He hesitates just long enough that I finally look at him. His eyes are closed, his face turned up toward the stars. Still he says nothing and doesn’t move.
All my years of insecurities wash over me. Something has stopped him and I have no idea what it is. I start to sit up, but then his hands are on my back, holding me in place.
“Please don’t move.”
“What’s wrong, Tristan?” I say quietly, trying hard not to let the flood of emotion crush me. I don’t fool him. His eyes fly open and he looks straight into mine.
“I’m scared, Cami.” He’s whispering so low that I can barely hear him.
What in the world is he scared of? I look at him with a puzzled expression.
“For two reasons,” he says. “One, I was with the same woman for five years and I want you so much more than I ever thought possible, it scares me.” He pauses briefly, then goes on. “And reason two, it’s silly, but I’m afraid of hurting you.”
Still puzzled. Okay, granted, the same woman thing, I get that. There’s nothing wrong with being apprehensive about your first time with someone. I have my own apprehensions. But is he trying to say I move too fast? That I pushed him into something he’s not comfortable with?
“I was just going with the flow, Tristan. I…I’m sorry if I did something to—”
He cuts me off, “You did nothing wrong, Cami. I want you. Believe me, I want you more than anything.”
I’m really trying to trust him, but I have never actually been denied before, and this feels a lot like rejection. Trying to change the subject, I go with the easiest question I can think of. “Why do you think you will hurt me?”
He smiles at me and lets out a breathy laugh. “Give me your hand and slide back just a bit.”
I do as I’m told and he takes my hand, turns it palm down, and brings it down on his erection. He starts at the junction of my sex and his, because a good portion is still underneath of me. His finger, seemingly accidentally, strokes my clit through my thong. I moan at the contact and he smiles again.
“Hmm, this could be fun,” he says.
I’m completely lost in the sensation that begins to radiate throughout my body. My clit is still swollen and excited from only a few minutes ago. The contact instantly has me warmed right back up. But instead of continuing, he ignores my clit and begins to slide my hand up the length of his huge cock.
“I can do that,” I whisper, and he releases my hand.
Slowly I push back down to the base of his cock, and then I slide my hand back up to the tip. I watch as his eyes roll up and under his eyelids. His head falls back to the sand and he moans again. I’m really beginning to enjoy the sounds he makes.
“So by hurting me, you’re concerned about this big boy making its way deep inside me?” As I say this, I continue stroking him. He’s huge and thick.
“Cami, I’m hung like a horse. We’re on a beach, in public, which seriously hinders me from taking the time I need with you. This is hardly the right place for our first time.” He is watching my hand stroke his cock through his pants.
“Your room or mine?”
He smiles but says nothing.
My self-consciousness floods back, threatening to completely destroy this entire moment. I slowly pull my hand away and maneuver myself off of him. I turn a hundred and eighty degrees and sit in the sand, knees pulled up to my chest, head resting against them, looking away from Tristan. The abrupt lack of contact has me feeling cold. I shiver.
“Cami?”
I don’t answer. How can I explain this to him without sounding like an idiot? Frankly I’m already beginning to feel stupid for climbing off of him.
He sits up and slides closer to me. “Cami?” He takes a deep breath. “Cami, what did I do?”
“Nothing.”
“Don’t you dare pull that bullshit with me.” I can tell he’s trying to get my attention. Then I feel the tug on my left wrist, trying to pull my arm away from my shins.
“I’m sorry,” I say, still looking away.
“Why are you sorry? Please, Cami, I’m in the dark here.”
“I know, I’m sorry.” I pull in a ragged breath and turn my head toward him. He tugs at my arm again, and this time I let him pull it away from my shins. He takes my hand in his, intertwining our fingers. Our hands fit perfectly. I feel my heartbeat increase. They fit so perfectly, like they were made for each other to hold. This isn’t the first time we’ve held hands, but it’s the first time I notice them like this.
“Tristan, this is going to sound so stupid. It’s embarrassing on many levels.”
“Try me.”
“I…” I hesitate. “I’ve never been rejected before. I didn’t know what—”
He cuts me off. “Cami, I’m not rejecting you. You saw it, and you felt it. I want you more than anything right now. I’m still rock hard and not walking away. So please believe me.”
“It’s hard for me to believe, Tristan. I ask you whose room and you don’t reply. I’m not sure what to think…”
“Cami, I didn’t reply because, believe it or not, I have some self-control.” I try to interrupt him, but he cuts me off. “The only reason I’m using any self-control is because I have so much respect for you. And most of all…most of all,” he repeats and pauses. I look at him, willing him to continue what he was trying to say. He sits silent for a minute.
Shame washes over me, sudden and so strong I want to get up and walk back to the hotel. Shame because he’s just bare
ly broken up with his girlfriend of five years, who disrespected him in the worst possible way, and here I am practically forcing myself on him.
He looks at me, and I know he can see the sadness in my eyes. He seems to be wrestling with his own shame.
“Cami, you deserve so much better than me, than being bedded by me so quickly. I don’t want to ruin whatever chance I may have with you, so I need to do this right.”
The words are sweet and my heart swells, but also the statement confuses me. “What exactly are you trying to say, Tristan?
He looks out at the water. “What I’m trying to say…” He pauses. “I mean…”
After what seems like an eternity I ask, “Tristan?”
“I’m trying to say that I am scared to sleep with you because I don’t want you to feel like a rebound from Layla. I don’t want to think of it like that and I’m concerned that if we sleep together too soon, it will become just sex. A weekend fling, a…” He pauses again. “I’m trying to tell you that I really like you, Cami. More than I should, given that I hardly know you.” He smiles at me, a tentative smile. “I really want to get to know you, for you and not just for your body.”
I’m completely taken aback. I suck air into my lungs so fast that I might pass out. After a couple of deep breaths I say to him, “I really want to get to know you, too.” How can I say this? “Tristan, the only way I know how to be close to anyone is through sex.” It’s true. “I’ve never been in a relationship outside of the bedroom. The only way I know is my body. I’m sorry I pulled away from you. I don’t know how to handle rejection. I really do want to get to know you, for you.”
“I hope so, because I feel like we really need to do this right. I’m not sure how or why, but I’ve felt this way since I saw you in the airport in Los Angeles on Wednesday. I saw you again in Honolulu, and again shopping in the mall on Friday, and then finally in the bar Friday night.”
“What do you mean L.A., Honolulu, shopping? Why didn’t you say anything before?” I’m out of breath, shocked.
He’s smiling again, but he looks down as though embarrassed. “Yeah, I saw you in the first class lounge Wednesday. Well, actually, I really only saw your wings.” He pauses. “When I saw them, I saw them as a sign from my mother, a sign that things were going to…work out. I saw you again on the plane to Honolulu. You were so wrapped up in some book. You had your ear buds in.” How in the hell did I not notice this? “Then, when we landed in Honolulu, I tried to follow you, but I was swarmed by a bunch of teenage girls.”
“That was you?” I gasp. I saw the commotion, but at the time, I didn’t think anything of it.
“You noticed that?” he asks. I nod. “Yeah, that was me. By the time I became untangled from them, you were gone. Tyson was dragging me off to my connecting flight to Bora Bora.”
“I got on the Tahiti flight,” I whisper.
“That would explain how you ended up here. I got into Bora Bora on Wednesday and was able to get here Wednesday night.”
“Yup, you stole my penthouse.” I try to laugh, but I’m so completely taken aback by the fact that Tristan saw me first, not just in the bar, but in L.A.
“It wasn’t reserved when I got here,” he says with a light teasing note in his voice.
“Yeah, I know. I never got around to making a reservation. Didn’t think I would need to.” I playfully push at his thigh. He laughs.
Our fingers are still intertwined. His thumb slowly starts to stroke the back of my hand.
“Then, Friday, I saw you shopping. I was following you, sort of, until you went into Versace. I didn’t realize that it was you until you took off your hoodie and I saw your shoulder.” He leans over and lightly kisses my left shoulder. “And then you showed up in the bar Friday night. I seized my opportunity.” He places another warm kiss on my shoulder. “Yeah, I admit I was a bit of a peeping Tom at the mall.”
“I can’t believe you were watching me shop.” I blush.
“Don’t you dare be embarrassed, Cami. I enjoyed watching you shop. You looked so happy and carefree. Then when I saw you in the bar wearing the Versace outfit from the window, I realized that you were someone I had to talk to. And not just because of the price tag on that outfit.” He laughs.
“So from the moment I walked into the bar Friday night you were watching me?”
He doesn’t reply, just nods. He slowly brings my left hand up to his lips and gently kisses each one of my knuckles in turn. He lets out a sigh when he’s done.
“A penny for your thoughts?” I whisper.
He smiles as I turn his line around on him, but he doesn’t answer. Just keeps looking out toward the water. His brow is furrowed in deep concentration. My brain is going about a mile a minute sorting through all the possibilities of what could be on his mind.
“Tristan, please, what’s bothering you?”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Tristan
So much has changed in the last few days. I feel like I’ve barely begun to grasp it. I said I wanted to wait, I want to prove to her (and maybe to myself) that she’s not just a rebound. But right now, in this moment, watching her out of the corner of my eye, I begin to realize that Cami could never be just a rebound. She is more wonderful than anything I could have ever imagined.
Suddenly I can see it, the vision that’s haunted me for years: a beautiful blushing bride; a woman’s belly swollen with our child; the same woman playing with our child, smiling and happy. I’ve had this vision before, but this time, instead of a nameless, faceless woman, it’s Cami I see.
Now, if only I can figure out what all of this means.
“Tristan, please?” Cami whispers. Her voice is strained. The desperation in her tone makes my heart stutter as if it wants to stop. I look over at her, and those gorgeous blue eyes are looking intently at me, betraying the same emotion as her voice. How can I explain to her what I don’t yet understand?
“I’m not sure what to say. There are so many things going through my mind that I don’t know where to start,” I say, my voice husky. I reach up and move a lock of hair that’s fallen onto her face back behind her ear. Cocking my head to the side slightly, hoping that she sees the gesture as comforting, I cup her face, and her hand reaches up to cover mine, holding it there.
After a beat or two she releases my hand, and I slowly pull back and run my fingers along her shoulder, down her side until my fingertips trace the lace across the top of her thigh highs, find the garter strap, and follow her upper thigh toward the hem of her skirt.
She lets out a soft moan. My erection throbs, threatening to explode against my pants. I groan.
“Cami?”
“Tristan?” She looks straight into my eyes, like she’s trying to read what I’m thinking. She could not be more wrong. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want.” She lowers her voice. “I respect your choice to wait. I’m just not sure I have such self-control.”
“Would you think of me as anything less than a gentleman if I carried you to my room?” I half growl at her.
Her cheeks heat. Her eyelids lower slightly, hooding her eyes as a look of sheer seduction crosses her face. I’m going to explode any minute and I need to do it in her, with her. I can’t take this anymore. I’m past the point of no return, and my ability to be a gentleman is flying out the window at the speed of light.
“No.”
No. She said no. Wait… “Do you mean no you won’t come to my room, or no you won’t think me less of a gentleman?”
She laughs. “I would never think you less than a gentleman, and I thought you’d never ask.”
That’s it. That is all I need to hear. After the conversation we just had, I was afraid that I might’ve scared her away from me. I do really want to wait, but I’m thinking that I’m trying to wait for all the wrong reasons.
I stand up, bringing her with me, pulling her to her feet. I bend down, grab her around her thighs and hoist her over my shoulder. She squeals and protests my movements
by squirming. I realize she’s in a position that’s far from ladylike, and I can’t resist the urge to bring my free hand up to her butt in a quick slap. She lets out a soft hiss and a moan, a sound so seductive that for a second I think I might just come in my pants.
“You keep that up and I will take you right here, right now on the beach, and I don’t care who watches.”
She giggles again, and then I feel her shoulders shift, and her hand comes down hard, square on my ass. I hiss and spank her again. But before this can become an all-out spank war I shift her in my arms, without breaking my stride, bringing her to the front of my body. She sticks out her lower lip in a cute pout but wraps her legs around my waist and her arms around my neck.
Lucky for me, little brain has shifted to the right and is no longer pressed between us. I’m not sure that I would make it back to the hotel, let alone up to the room, otherwise.
“Do you have any idea how hard it is to walk while staring at you?” I chuckle and tighten my arms under her butt. It takes me all of half a second to notice that her bare ass cheek is cradled nicely in my left hand. I began to caress her skin. She smiles and lets out a rushed breath.
“Do you have any idea how hard it is to be carried, out of control, and more than willing to try and tackle you to the ground, right here and now? Keep caressing my ass and it just might happen.” She lowers her lids at me again. Her stare screams lust.
“Oh, believe me, if it weren’t for the fact that there’s a group of people walking out of the hotel and in our direction, I would have taken you back there about a hundred yards. You can be a good girl and wait until we get to my suite.”
“Yes, sir.”
Oh, wonderful. She has a damn sense of humor, doesn’t she. Just for that, I pinch her ass cheek. Lightly, but firmly enough to make her yelp. She’s glowing and smiling at me. A look that says, ‘Okay, you get that one, but I will do better to earn the next one.’ My hand stills, and she squirms in my arms.
