by K. M. Scott
"Happy isn't the word I'd use," he said as he slipped my bra strap off my right shoulder and then my left. "More like ecstatic."
I looked down as he slid his hands behind me to unhook my bra. "Good."
"And now I plan to do the same for you, so get those panties off before I tear them off with my teeth."
Lying back on the floor, I slithered out of my panties as Tristan moved forward to catch me with his hands, pressing my hips to the floor. I let my legs fall open, and he moaned, sending a shiver of desire straight through me. I wanted his mouth on me, devouring my pussy as that gorgeous tongue of his lapped my tender and needy clit.
He flicked his tongue and grinned a sexy smile. "Don't close your eyes. I want you to watch me, Nina. Watch me give you what you gave me."
Lowering his head between my thighs, he kept his gaze focused on my eyes as he ran his tongue up my dripping wet slit. Those brown eyes looked so sexy staring up at me, nearly making me come at the first touch of his mouth on me. He sucked my delicate skin into his mouth, sending waves of pleasure washing over me.
I squirmed as he moved up to gently suck my clit into his mouth, and he moaned against me, "No fidgeting. Don't make me hold you down."
His command resonated deep inside my excited pussy, thrilling me, and he placed his hands on my hips. "Just in case there's any more wriggling. I want to see you fucking come apart because of my tongue."
I looked at his large hands on my stomach, so powerful as they rested on my tender skin, and I loved it. I squirmed again just to have him take total control, and his reaction was swift. He pressed hard against my hips, pinning me to the floor.
"I told you. No more wriggling."
His tongue plunged into me, making me desperate to buck against him, but I was trapped. Fucking me with his tongue, he stabbed into me as his thumb drew tiny circles on my clit. The sensations were exquisite and better than anything else I'd experienced before. I wanted to lay there open for him to do what he wanted forever.
My orgasm began to uncoil inside me, and my eyelids lowered as my eyes rolled back in my head. Just as they closed, I heard his deep voice order, "Look at me, Nina. I want to see you looking at me when you come."
I did as he commanded and watched as he sucked my clit into his mouth one last time, sending me crashing over that sweet edge. My release roared through me, and I cried out his name while he rode me until the last tiny quake finally subsided. When he sat back from me to place a tiny kiss on my quivering inner thigh, he whispered, "Feel good?"
"Mmmm...ecstatic."
He nipped at my skin and stood up. I took his hand when he held it out, ready for whatever was waiting for me, but I was surprised when he said, "I think it's time for dinner now that we had dessert first."
My expression must have signaled my disappointment because he quickly added, "Don't worry. We'll get back to that after dinner. I need to make sure you're fed so you have enough energy for later."
I stood up and walked with him toward the table full of food. "Enough energy? Whatever could you mean?" I said with a giggle.
He turned around and leveled his gaze at me. "You know what I mean."
I did and I loved how he thought. We loaded up our plates and walked back to the bedroom to have our dinner in bed. As I crawled into the king size bed, Tristan popped a strawberry from his plate into my mouth and followed it with a kiss.
"I guess I should have asked if you liked strawberries."
I put the plate down on the bed and grabbed at my throat. Making my voice hoarse, I croaked out, "Actually, I'm allergic to strawberries. I only have ten minutes before..." I fell to the bed and closed my eyes, doing my best to playact an allergic reaction.
"Jesus, Nina! I didn't know. We'll get you to a hospital!" I peeked out from behind my lashes to see him jump out of bed, knocking over his plate onto the floor. He raced around grabbing his pants and shirt, hobbling on one foot as he struggled to get dressed. "Baby, I'm sorry. Don't worry. Don't worry."
I opened my eyes as he rushed over to my side of the bed. Dropping to his knees, he leaned over and said in a tortured voice that made me feel instantly guilty, "Baby, don't leave me. Talk to me, Nina. Please say something."
His face was the picture of fear, making me feel even worse. "I'm sorry. I was just kidding, Tristan. I'm not allergic. I was just joking around. I didn't think you'd take me seriously. I'm sorry."
He sighed heavily and his shoulders sagged, as if just hearing me say that made every ounce of stress leave his body. Taking me in his arms, he squeezed me tightly to him. "Don't ever do that again. I thought I'd lose you."
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to ruin everything," I said quietly as he continued to hold me.
When he finally released me, I saw how much my joke had affected him. Those soulful brown eyes were full of sadness and his mouth was turned down in a soft frown even as he told me how happy he was that I was okay. My heart broke at what I'd done—at what my callousness had done to him.
Caressing his cheek, I kissed him softly on the lips. "I'm sorry, Tristan. I didn't mean to be so thoughtless. I didn't think before I did it."
"I'm just happy you're okay."
I felt like shit that I'd ruined everything so wonderful that he'd tried to do. He'd brought me to Venice and his stunning hotel, worshipped me like no man had ever done, and I hadn't even been good enough to consider the idea that maybe someone who'd lost his entire family wouldn't find it funny that he'd mistakenly fed his girlfriend a food poisonous to her.
"Tell me I haven't wrecked our entire trip. Please don't let this spoil our good time."
"You haven't spoiled anything, Nina. Let's have a drink and eat something."
He stood and walked out to the suite's living room to pour himself a scotch while I cursed my stupidity and cleaned up the mess he'd made when he jumped out of bed. Sometimes I could be such a jackass, but rarely had I felt so awful about being one.
I found him sitting naked on the couch with a nearly empty glass in his hand. His face was drawn, and he looked tired as he swallowed the last gulp of alcohol. He stood to pour himself another drink, a sign that no matter what he said things weren't okay.
This was my doing, so I had to fix it. I knelt in front of him as he sat back down and leaned my head on his leg. "Did you eat anything? Do you want me to get you a plate?"
He shook his head. "No. I'm fine with just a drink. You eat, though. The food is impeccable."
I didn't want to eat. My appetite was gone. All I wanted was to fix what I'd done, but I didn't know how. There was something sad between us now. It was nothing obvious, but I felt it as I sat so close to him. Looking up at him, I wished more than anything that I knew the right words to say.
"I'm looking forward to visiting the museums tomorrow," I said quietly. "Are you?"
He smiled sweetly. "Only because you're going to be there."
"We're going to see some great works of art. I think you'll like it."
"I know I will because you like it."
"Love it, actually. Ever since I was a little girl, I've loved art."
He placed his hand on the back of my head and stroked my hair. "Love then."
We sat there saying nothing for a long time until he finally cupped my chin in his hand and said, "Let's go back to bed."
Taking my hand, he led me to the second bedroom past the one we'd been in earlier. He closed the door behind us and leaned down to press a passionate kiss onto my lips. His tongue slipped into my mouth to mingle with mine, making moisture rush to between my legs. I ran my hands over the soft skin of his back and moaned into his mouth.
As I was beginning to think we'd moved past the problem of earlier, he pulled back and stared down at me. My blood ran cold that he was angry or upset, but when he spoke, his words were full of tenderness that touched my heart and brought tears to my eyes.
"Your happiness and safety is all I care about. The thought of losing you terrified me."
"I know. I'm so sorry. I just didn't t
hink," I said, wanting so much to make him feel better.
He kissed me to stop me from talking and shook his head. "Don't apologize. It made me realize I should have said this a long time ago. I love you, Nina, and I don't want to lose you."
Tears streamed down my cheeks at his words. He loved me like I loved him. Smiling through my tears, I sobbed, "I love you, Tristan. I'm the luckiest woman in the world because of you. You've given me everything a girl could dream of."
"I haven't given you anything you don't deserve. Don't ever forget that."
Within just a few minutes, the melancholy that had covered him lifted and he was the Tristan I loved to be around. We made love sweetly and tenderly, and as we lay there in each other's arms, I tried to forgive myself for what I'd done.
The truth was that I sometimes didn't know how to act around him. He was so hard to gauge at times, which made me feel like being myself was inappropriate. In the beginning, I had thought it was the money—the way he spent money on me unnerved me, making me feel as if he believed I was someone I wasn't. I'd never pretended to be anyone but myself, but I found it hard to believe that a man would simply give gifts just because he could. It was never him but me who had the problem. Just because I'd never been fortunate enough to meet someone like him didn't mean I didn't deserve him.
I didn't know if he knew how troubled my mind was over things like that. If he did, he never spoke a word about it. But that was his way. He wasn't a man who spent hours talking about what was on his mind. He decided on matters and they happened.
It was one of the many things about him that I admired.
I absentmindedly ran my hand over his ribs, loving the feel of his body under my touch. Even now after a wonderful lovemaking session, I could spend hours worshipping his body again. He had that effect on me, unlike any other man I'd ever met had.
"Tristan, are you asleep?" He twirled my hair around his finger, a sign that he was still awake. "I'm really looking forward to seeing the museums tomorrow."
"Good. It will be educational for me since I know little about art."
I lifted my head from his chest and looked up at him, confused. "I've seen your house and penthouse. I think you know a great deal about art."
He smiled and pursed his lips. "I know a great deal about hiring people to decorate the places I live in."
I didn't know why, but his remark stung my feelings. The truth was that I was an employee of his, no matter how intimate we were after work hours. But something in his tone signaled a disdain for the people he'd hired to decorate his homes, and I suddenly felt like I was grouped in with them.
Rolling over, I turned my back to him and worked to push these thoughts out of my mind. I was sleeping next to him in our hotel room in Venice where he'd brought me for no other reason than to enjoy a city renowned for something I loved. Whatever slight I'd felt was silly.
His arm snaked around my waist, and he pressed his body against mine. "What happened there? Suddenly tired?"
"It's been a long day," I said as I stared at the wall.
He kissed my neck, nuzzling the space between my shoulder and my ear. "I love you. Get some sleep and we'll head out bright and early so you can teach me all the things I should know about art so I'm not a philistine anymore."
His self-effacing way made me smile, and I turned my body to face him. Kissing him, I said, "You're no philistine, even when it comes to art."
"Well, I'm a cultured philistine then," he joked.
Wrinkling my nose, I said, "I don't think such a thing exists."
He leaned forward and kissed me. "Then maybe I just want to impress the woman I love."
And with just those words, any slight I'd felt melted away. "I can report that the woman you love is already impressed."
Pulling me close, he held me and kissed the top of my head. "She loves me and is impressed. I must be doing something right."
"Definitely."
He fell silent for a long time, never releasing his hold on me. Finally, just as I was about to fall asleep, I heard him say quietly above me, "She loves me."
I did. More than I could ever explain to him.
Chapter Sixteen
Sunrise in Venice was just as incredible as the sunset the night before had been, and after a light breakfast, I was ready to show Tristan some of the greatest artwork in the world. The idea that I could be better than him at something thrilled me, and I wanted to impress him as much as he wanted to impress me.
Dressed comfortably in a light yellow cotton dress and flats so we could visit as many museums as time allowed, I walked out of our bedroom to see Tristan ending a phone call. His grimace was profound, marring that beautiful face.
"I'm going to have to miss our tour of the museums today, Nina. Something's come up that I need to deal with."
His body language was stiff, telling me he was unhappy about whatever the problem was. I wanted to cry my disappointment was so great. All my fantasies about showing him my knowledge of the art world disappeared in a heartbeat, wrecked by another of his phone calls.
I tried not to pout, but my efforts weren't very successful and I lowered my gaze to look at my shoes so perfect for walking around Venice. He walked toward me and lifted my chin with his forefinger. Looking down into my face, he wore an expression of disappointment mixed with something else. I just couldn't put my finger on what that something else was.
Anger? Disgust?
"I'm sorry. I wanted to go with you, but it's important I take care of this."
I bit my lip and tried to control my tongue so I didn't make his situation even worse. "I know. I just so wanted to show you..." I let my sentence trail off. My desire to impress him sounded silly now.
"I want you to still go. One of my men will escort you, so go wherever you want."
"I don't need an escort. You roamed around Venice all by yourself when you were sixteen. I'm sure I can handle myself."
He shook his head definitively. "No. One of my men will be with you, if you choose to go."
There was no arguing the point, so I didn't. I wouldn't have Tristan, but I'd have a shadow. "I guess one of your guys will be okay," I mumbled.
Placing a kiss on my forehead, he whispered, "I promise I'll make it up to you."
"You better. I'm thinking The Louvre might be the only thing that could make this better."
"It's a date," he said and flashed me a smile that made it next to impossible to be angry with him.
Whatever the problem was, it required him to leave immediately, but within ten minutes my escort arrived. Nearly as tall as Tristan, Jared was much bigger, like bouncer-at-a-club bigger. I guessed he had little appreciation for art. After trying twice to strike up a conversation as we stood there in the living room of the suite, I surmised he had little appreciation for talking too.
"Well, Jared, it's nice to meet you. My name is Nina. I guess you're going with me to visit some museums today."
My giant shadow nodded once and said, "As you wish, ma'am."
Ma'am. Oh, I was sure I wasn't going to enjoy my time with him.
After visiting two museums, I had all but forgotten about Jared and immersed myself in the works of art at the Ca’Rezzonico museum. The landscape painting exhibition on the first floor took my breath away. I stood staring at paintings showing eighteenth century Venice as it truly had been back then, mesmerized at how similar so many things in the city still were. Yet the paintings showed a different Venice in many ways, and I was taken back to those days I'd studied about in school, finally feeling like I was experiencing them for myself as I studied those pictures that hung on the walls.
I moved through the floor wishing Tristan was at my side so I could tell him about all the wonderful history of landscape painting in Venice. A touch of sadness came over me, but I pushed it out of my mind, reminding myself that while Tristan had given me time off from my job for this trip, no one had given him any.
Lost in thought about landscape painting, I didn't see t
he man next to me until he spoke. Surprised, I jumped and turned to look at the stranger. "Excuse me? I didn't hear what you said."
"I said it's beautiful, isn't it?"
"It is." I continued to look at the man, surprised by his American accent. "You're an American?"
He nodded. "Yes, I am. It's nice to meet another person from back home."
I studied his face as I tried to determine his age. The corners of his eyes were wrinkled slightly, but his face was tanned, giving him a glow that made me think he might be in his thirties. His hair had streaks of grey at the temples, leading me to believe he might be older, though.
"Where are you from?" I asked, thinking I picked up a Midwest accent.
"Minnesota. Land of ten thousand lakes."
"That's a lot of lakes," I joked.
"Beautiful country there. Where are you from?" he asked as he studied my face, likely to ascertain the answers I'd sought a minute earlier.
"Pennsylvania. We don't have that many lakes."
The man extended his hand and introduced himself as Derek. I smiled and said, "It's nice to meet you, Derek. I'm Nina."
"I used to know someone from Pennsylvania with a daughter named Nina. His name was Joseph. I met him on assignment years ago."
"Assignment? What did he do?"
"He was an investigative journalist."
"Do you remember his last name?" I asked excitedly, amazed at the idea that I might be talking to someone who'd known my father.
"Edwards. His name was Joseph Edwards."
"Oh, my God! That was my father!"
"He was a good man. Great writer," Derek said in a solemn voice, using the past tense, which told me he knew about my father's death.
"It's so wonderful to hear that. He loved what he did."
"He did. I remember him talking about you too. You were the apple of his eye. His little artist is what he called you, if I remember correctly."
I beamed at Derek's memory, loving that my father had spoken about me like that. "I haven't heard that in so long. I miss hearing him call me that."
Derek's eyes narrowed. "I think it's a shame they never charged the people responsible."
