Julie was deep in her thoughts when the doorbell rang. It must be Teta or the UPS guy she nicknamed Brownie. She bet Brownie was wearing his tight brown shorts and shirt again today. Brownie was a real Crotcher. Unlike Tristan. He didn't have to wear tight shorts to show his...
For the first time since Weatherholt called, a smile crept on her face.
The bell rang again. She hoped it was Brownie delivering the final copy of her manuscript. She could use a diversion. The only way to forget Marla was to immerse herself in her story.
Julie rewrapped the towel around her, then left her bedroom.
Only a woman so desperate would enter a loveless marriage. And she was desperate. The will's stipulation clearly said if she married, she'd be free. The sound of the word free was as tempting as double chocolate fudge ice cream. Yes! All she had to do was convince Armand, get a ring on her finger and a marriage contract. It would be that easy.
The doorbell rang again.
Julie ruffled her hair and combed it with her fingers. Forgoing the slippers, she headed downstairs.
Yanking the door open, Julie flashed a bright smile. “Hey! Got my manuscript—” Her next word died on her lips. “What are you doing here?” She felt the gap on the towel open and quickly grabbed the edges to pull it together.
Tristan's eyes grew wider as he looked her up and down. He then pointed at the towel. “What the hell are you doing answering the door wearing only that?”
“Well, I thought, uhm, normally I—”
“Are you entertaining someone, or you're expecting someone?”
“No to both. I thought you were Brownie, the UPS guy.” Lord, what is he doing here?
Tristan came in and kicked the door shut. “So you normally answer your door with barely anything on when the UPS guy rings your bell?”
“No. This is the first time. I just got out of the shower when you rang the bell. I was in a hurry and didn't think about putting any clothes on.”
“In a hurry to grab a shirt?”
“Well, you rang the bell as if the house was on fire.”
Tristan stared at her like a bull with its nostrils flaring. “Well, next time think about it first. Where can I put these?” Tristan asked, holding up three plastic bags, a six-pack of Diet Coke and a tray with two Grande Starbucks coffee cups.
“That way is the kitchen. Are you...” She noticed the duffel bag slung on his shoulder. “What are you doing here?”
“We need to talk.”
“About what?”
“Your fight with Marla and your mother's will.”
“Oh, no. Kirsten told you? I told her not to tell anyone about—”
“Yeah, she told me about your stepmother, but she forgot to warn me about your habit of opening doors naked.” He stormed off to the kitchen.
Julie followed, getting annoyed at his sarcasm. “I already told you, I am not in a habit of...never mind.” Actually, at home alone, she wore something comfortable all the time. Like underwear and a shirt or a long t-shirt without anything else on, especially during summer. But never around other people. Not even when Kirsten stayed overnight for their Pride and Prejudice marathon. “I'll strangle your sister for sending you here.”
“Get in line, Strawberry.”
Julie watched Tristan open the plastic bags. She could smell a mixture of breakfast—donuts, muffins, pancakes—and Chinese food. The delicious smells made her stomach growl. She was so busy thinking about Marla that she hadn't even thought about eating.
“Did you eat breakfast? If you want lunch, I brought Chinese food also,” Tristan stated, without looking at her.
“I had coffee. Tristan, we have nothing to talk about,” she added, while keeping her arms around her to keep the towel from coming undone and to silence her rumbling stomach. Her eyes focused on the overnight bag. He didn't plan to stay overnight, did he?
Her heart skipped a beat at the thought of Tristan in her house all night. Your thoughts are running away with you, Julie.
“Yes. There are things that we need to talk about.”
“What exactly do you think we're going to discuss?”
“How I can help you.”
“Help me? I don't need your help.” She sat on the table with half of her butt cheek hanging and one foot dangling. Another habit she acquired from being alone all the time.
“Don't be so stubborn and proud. I made a promise to Kirsten to help and you'll accept it.”
“How exactly do you think you're going help me?”
“By marrying you.”
Stunned, Julie just stared at him. She couldn't think quick enough to protest his offer. Did he say, marrying me?
“Uhm, did you say you want to marry me?”
Tristan was looking at her with intensity so strong she felt like going to a different room. Not with his usual kind, almost attentive look. From head to toe, he assessed her. Slowly he walked toward her. “Kirsten said getting hitched is the only way to release you from the will's binding. So I am here to marry you.”
She should be happy. Here was a handsome man whom she shared her body with, offering the very thing that would put an end to her problem. The man she was in love with. Nevertheless, he was also the man whose aversion to marriage was known to the whole Orcas Island. So why offer to make a promise to marry her?
“You want to marry me. Why? Do you want to get married?”
“I made a promise.”
“Did Kirsten beg you to?”
“Julie, she was worried about you. We all are.”
“You all are? Meaning your whole family knows about my problem now.”
“My whole family? Wait. Well, let's see. It's not two in the afternoon yet. So, Bors and Gawain are most likely still in bed. No not the whole family—yet. By the way, Dad asked me to take you back to the island. He wants to talk to you.”
She groaned her irritation. “If I didn't love your sister, I would put a curse on her right this minute.” Kirsten had been half-asleep when she left her. Had her friend misheard when she said she'd think about Armand, and thought she said Tristan? But... Whatever. Tristan shouldn't be here. “I am sorry you had to come all the way here, but I think your sister heard me wrong. When we talked this morning, I told her I would consider—”
“Armand, your avid suitor? Kirsten told me about him. Have you made a deal with him yet?”
“Well, not yet. I am still waiting for his call. I just texted him before you—”
“Good. Then you'll marry me.” His blue eyes darkened as she held his gaze.
Julie noticed Tristan said the word marry heavily, as if it weighed a ton. She knew why. He didn't want to get married. “Why you?”
“What?”
“You have other brothers. How come Kirsten forced you to make the promise of helping me and not Bors, Gawain, or Percival.”
“Maybe because I'm the easier brother, the one she could boss around.” Tristan let out an aggravated sigh. “I didn't get a chance to ask her. The sun wasn't even up yet when she came in my room to tell me you left. There wasn't any time to flip the coin on who would want to marry you.”
“Well, Marla's not here yet. You still have time to think this through—somewhere else. This house is not open for male visitors.”
“I already did a lot of thinking on my way here. Besides, I already made a promise.”
“Still, as far as I know, you don't want marriage. You're done with marriage.”
“I am.”
“So don't do this.”
“Can't. I made a promise.”
Julie gritted her teeth. If he said the word promise one more time, she'd flick his straight nose. “Promises are made to be broken.”
“Not in my book. You want Marla to stop pestering you, right?”
“Tristan, I do want to stop Marla. But—”
“So I'm here. Let's stop her.”
“Will you let me speak?”
Tristan faced her with his arms akimbo. “Speak.”
&n
bsp; “I am desperate, okay. Tired of dealing with Marla and her viciousness, but I wouldn't ask a man to give his help knowing the help is the thing he hates most. I am talking about you. Now, Armand, I could ask him. He wants to marry me and—”
“Well, you can forget him now. You are marrying me, not Armand, not anybody else. And I am not going home without you wearing my ring.”
“Oh, that easy, huh?”
“Yes. We say I do and the deed's done. We're husband and wife.”
“For a month.”
Tristan looked at her. His face clearly expressed the sign that her words baffled him.
“A month,” he repeated with a scowl.
“If we marry, you'll be stuck with me for a month. After that, we can get a divorce.”
“That's part of the condition?”
“My condition. Nothing on the will says I have to stay married forever. So a month is good.”
“No problem. We'll get a divorce.”
“That's okay with you?”
“Done it before. I could do it again. Just show me the papers and I'll sign them.”
“Tristan, you don't have to do this. I know you are here, offering your services as a payment for what I did for your sister. You feel obligated. You shouldn't.”
“I'm in, Julie.” Eyes smoldering from suppressed anger, Tristan stood in front of her and tilted her chin up. They were standing too close to one another. Julie could see his jaw muscles twitch, the slight flare of his nostrils, and perfect brows marred by his ferocious scowl. “I'm not leaving until we are married.”
“Now who's stubborn? Don't look at me as if you want to eat me alive. I already apologized for telling Pamela you have gonorrhea. Are you still upset about that?”
Tristan ran his thumb on her chin. Back and forth, back and forth. “No. I want to eat you alive for keeping me, my family, in the dark. We could have helped you sooner. I want to help.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Are you expecting anything in return?”
“You mean, like to be able to exercise my rights as your husband? No. Not if you don't want to, that is.”
“But you do.”
“Only a blind man would not want to make love with his beautiful wife. But I am not a sycophant, Julie. I am here to help, not to take advantage of your situation.”
“You won't ask for a wedding night?”
“No.”
“Well, that's good, I think. If we live like husband and wife, it would only make the wedding more real than it ought to be. I know. I assume you already know everything about the will?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Then you'll understand why I want you out of here now. As long as we are not married yet, you cannot stay. I don't want Marla to find you here. Stay in a hotel, or somewhere, but not here. We can discuss this over the phone. That way it's safer.”
“So you're accepting my offer?”
“Yes. Thanks for coming. Now leave.” She pushed her tush off the table, but twisted her foot when she stepped on the floor. “Oww! Damn it.”
“Take it easy, love.” His hand wrapped around her waist and the other cupped Julie's bare bottom.
In a heartbeat, she found herself enclosed in Tristan's warm embrace. Chriminy, ignore him. Push him away. God, this feels so good
Tristan held her so close she could smell his licorice-scented breath. Each time he breathed out, his breath fanned the spot on the side of her neck. The same spot she discovered was sensitive the night they made love. Just a tiny bit, Tristan moved his hand, but it was enough to start the delicious pleasure to ripple beginning from her neck to her throbbing pussy and down to the tip of her toes.
Of their own volition, her hands tightened where they rested on his shoulders, gave her weight to him and leaned heavily on his chest.
“Julie.” Tristan cleared his throat.
“Yes?”
“You should go to your room and put your clothes on.”
The underlying sensuality in his voice made Julie's blood heat up. She stared at him and recognized the same obvious desire she saw in his eyes last night. Julie felt a rush of heat, like a hot shower, trickling down her whole body. Her tongue darted out to lick her lips in anticipation of what the hot water would do when it reached her belly, her thighs and her hot pussy.
She wanted his lips against hers, his tongue inside her mouth and his hands all over her again. A repeat of last night.
“Need to dress...” Julie's breasts grew heavy with her hard nipples pushing against the soft cotton towel begging to be touched. She curled into the curve of his body, seeking what her body yearned for.
“Julie...” In a heartbeat, his head lowered and he crushed her mouth with his.
Oh, it is heaven. Julie moaned in his hot mouth. Like an ice cream on a hot sunny day, her body softened against his arms. Tristan tightened his hold on her and gently pushed her butt back on the table. His body followed. Wedging his knee in between her legs, he made room for his hips.
“Julie, love...” he murmured, between hungry kisses.
With a quick flick of his wrist, Tristan removed her towel and cupped her breasts with both hands. In her position, she felt open and exposed. And she loved it.
Julie arched her back, jutting her breasts further. Tristan answered. He squeezed her breasts, but he didn't stop there. He rolled her nipples in between his fingers and, to Julie's delight, lowered his head. She cried from the pleasure that surged the moment his wet tongue made contact with her aching tit. His mouth sucked and pulled her nipples with tantalizing possessiveness, making her squirm from delight. And when his fingers lowered to squeeze her thigh, to press on her pubic mound, she felt like getting roasted on a fire pit. Hot. Burning.
“Tristan.”
“Yes, love.” Tristan inched his fingers lower to comb her bush.
“Tristan, more...like last time...” She felt Tristan smile on her breast and then he continued with his lapping. With one last pull of his lips on her nipple, he captured her mouth again for a searing kiss.
“You're a sin walking on earth, did you know that? A beautiful woman meant to make a man go loco on you—like you're doing to me right now,” he said, breathing heavily.
Julie, with her frantic fingers, found her way inside his shirt. She wanted to take it off, feel his body against hers, and kiss him all over. “I want...don't stop.”
“What do you want, love? Tell me?”
“More, more of you.” God, she wanted to come, to climax while his fingers were buried deep inside her pussy.
Tristan slowed his fingers’ tempo. “More of me? Be specific.”
“You know what I want. Stop torturing me.”
“Ah, you don't like being tortured.” He bit her chin, then kissed the skin. “But you, you never failed to torment me with your wicked ways.”
“I don't know what you're talking about. Please, touch me,” she pleaded, moving her hips, urging him to continue his magic. But he didn't. “What are you doing? You're killing me,” she said, her voice raspy.
“Promise not to open the door again while wearing only a towel, that you will come to me when you need help and—”
“Yes, yes, I promise.”
Tristan gently eased her down onto the table. “You are a goddess on earth.” He kissed her cleavage while pushing her breasts higher.
Through his jeans, Julie felt his hard dick pressed against her cunt. The feeling was so delicious she began to see stars. When Tristan ground his hips, pressing his cock on her pubic mound even harder, she gripped his butt. “Tristan, please...”
“I'll give it to you, love.” He left her mouth burning with fire to trail more kisses along the length of her body.
Julie, getting impatient, pushed on his shoulder, hurrying him to go down on her. “Oh my God, I'm going to die...”
Tristan chuckled. “You'll reach heaven, love, as a hot sweet woman.” He nuzzled her springy curls. “Open wider, yes. You want m
e to touch you here?”
“Yes.”
“Show me your pussy. Oh, yes. Beautiful. Fucking beautiful.”
Julie bucked as Tristan's lips pulled her clit out of its nest. He sucked it hard until she thought she'd lose her mind.
“Hmm...sweet. I love kissing you here.” His mouth covered her wet cunt. Wrapping his arms around her thighs, he ate at her. He sucked, laved, and kissed her pussy until Julie's orgasm racked her body.
“Tristan!”
Heart thundering as if she had jogged over her limit of three miles, Julie stared at the dining room ceiling, reveling on what had just happened. Now that her passion left bringing her back down to reality, embarrassment took over. Lord, she begged him again.
Julie wouldn't—couldn't look at him. Her mind, though, told her that she must. She waited until her quickened pulse subsided then forced herself to meet Tristan's gaze. He was above her, staring at her with a smile on his face.
“You're amazing.” Tristan kissed her lips with sweet tenderness.
Julie tasted something unique. Shivers ran down her spine when she realized what it was. She tasted her own juice.
Tristan started nipping at her nipples again when the doorbell rang. “You're expecting someone aside from the UPS guy?”
“No.”
“Go get dressed...please.” He wrapped Julie again in her towel and helped her get off the table. “Go slow. Easy on your foot.”
“Tristan, it could be Marla and Sebastian. I don't want them to see you here. Please, leave. You can use the back door.”
“I'm not going anywhere.” Tristan's lips grazed her ear, jaw, chin, and lips. She kissed him back. “Get dressed, Julie. I'll get the door. Love, if Marla is ringing the bell, I suggest you go upstairs and change.”
“But if she sees you, she'll make wrong assumptions. She will go to the—hmmm...” Tristan stopped her with another searing kiss.
God, this man can make my mind turn into mush with a simple kiss
“Let me handle Marla. Go.”
“Tristan...”
“Go.”
Julie limped as she rushed upstairs to put on some decent clothes. Her mind, still foggy from her another paroxysmal excitement—her second orgasmic explosion.
Wicked Knight Page 9
