“I don't deserve this,” I whisper, looking again at what he’s done, and thinking back to me snapping at him about eating lunch – I close my eyes, feeling guilty for that.
“Yes,’ he says, softly kissing my lips. My eyes spring open. “You,’ another kiss, ‘do.” And with that, he takes my hand and leads me over to the coffee table. “Take a seat,” he says, smiling softly still. I look down at the table in shock. I was not expecting this at all – Wow!
As I sink down onto the cushion, and cross my legs, I take in the gorgeous display in front of me. There’s quesadillas, although I’m not sure what’s in them, chicken, peppers and onions all stir fried together and sitting in a bowl, with a strong fajita scent oozing from them, small tortilla wraps, a salad platter of lettuce, cucumber, tomatoes and black olives, guacamole, sour cream, salsa, grated cheese, a black bean dip, and also my favourite, a spicy cheese dip, all steaming hot and ready to dig into – just looking at it is making my mouth water.
I look up at Tristan in complete awe. “Thank you baby,” I manage to squeak out. “This looks amazing!”
He smiles triumphantly as he sits next to me and crosses his legs too. “A shot?” he asks.
I nod my head like an idiot, unable to actually reply. Tristan picks up the bottle of tequila, two quarts of lime, the salt shaker, and steadily, he fills up the shot glasses.
“I want to try something,” he says, ‘are you game?” he adds.
I nod again, smiling widely, but wondering what the hell he’s about to do.
Picking up a quart of lime, he holds it out to me. “Place the tip between your teeth,” he says, ‘like this.” And I watch how he holds it between his teeth, so it’s mostly sticking out of his mouth, and nod.
He leans forward and gently places it on my bottom lip, I bite down to hold it in place, and get a burst of lime on my tongue – Mmm delicious...
Then gently taking my hand in his, he holds it palm up, leans down and licks the inside of my wrist, sending tingles in every direction. Then he adds a little salt to the wet spot, licks it off again, takes his shot, and leans forward with the most devilish smile on his face as he sucks the lime that’s caught between my teeth, and swallows that too.
That was so hot, and sexy, and - “Fun?” he says, interrupting my thought, as he takes the lime from between my teeth.
“Hell yes!” I giggle, still in awe of my sexy, sweet husband that has evidently gone to a lot of effort to organise all of this.
“Your turn,” he says, his sexy grin spreading across his face. Holy crap!
Picking up a piece of lime, Tristan places it between his teeth, just waiting for me, challenging me. I pick up the salt, take his hand and lick his wrist, then add the salt and slowly lick it off, keeping my eyes on his the whole time. The salt burns my mouth, so I quickly pick up the shot, neck it back and swallow, the sensation burning and warming me as it flows down to my stomach, then I slowly lean forward, and as seductively as I can, I place my lips around the lime, and slowly suck it until I reach the end.
I stay there, close to Tristan’s face as I swallow the lime juice and smile widely at him. He takes the lime skin from between his teeth, and grinning widely, he leans in the couple of inches needed and kisses me. I melt against him, savouring his taste and his skill as his tongue elicits just the right amount of pressure for it to be fun, without getting carried away. Slow seduction is something that my husband is very good at, and I have to say I am one happy customer.
He pulls back swiftly. “Hungry, or do you want to do that again?” he asks with his one eyebrow raised. He knows exactly the effect he has on me, I smile shyly at him.
“Hungry,” I whisper. “But we should definitely do that again,” I add, feeling a little breathless, and excited.
Tristan smiles widely, wraps his arm around my neck, pulls me towards him and plant a kiss on my temple. “Life will never be boring with you Coral, that is an absolute certainty,” he says.
I chuckle aloud at that. “You got that right,” I reply dryly, making Tristan laugh too.
“Let’s dig in,” he says, and leans forward to start.
“Wait!” I say, placing my hand on his cheek, and turning him towards me so we are face to face. “Thank you Tristan, I really do mean it, all this,’ I say, gesturing to the display before us, ‘Is a very sweet thing to have done, and I love you very much for it.” I lean forward and gently peck his cheek, which has flushed red, but he’s smiling shyly, his dimples deep.
He nods once, and still smiling, he starts piling chicken onto his tortilla wrap.
He must be hungry!
We eat in silence for a while, both enjoying the food, but I’m feeling nervous about Justin. I know I shouldn’t be, as nothing happened, but it’s something I need to share, otherwise it will plague me and become a bigger deal than it actually is. So I take a deep breath, ready to begin, then totally chicken out.
“Who’s this?” I ask as I pick up a quesadilla and take a bite, my mouth instantly bursting with the taste of three bean chilli and melted cheese, but it’s hot, spicy hot, so I quickly dip into the sour cream and take another bite – So delicious!
“Singing?” Tristan asks.
I nod as I’m munching again.
“Jack Savoretti – Before The Storm album,” he tells me. I cock an eyebrow up. “Never heard of him?” He asks, smiling now.
“No, but he’s good,” I say, which he is, quite folksy, and Tristan must really like him too. I pick up my beer, noticing as I do that its Corona – He’s even got Mexican beer!
“Cheers,” I say, my bottle held out.
Tristan smirks, picks his up and clicks it against mine. “Cheers!” He takes a long draught then turns to me. “So tell me all about your day baby,” he lightly adds.
I look down at the food, debating again whether or not to tell him about Justin.
“Coral?” he prompts.
I frown up at him, and deciding now is as good a time as any. I take a deep breath, feeling slightly nervous about his reaction. “I saw Justin today,” I say, and take another gulp of beer.
“At your studio?” he says as though it’s no big deal.
My head whips back round to him, my eyes almost popping out. “You knew?” I squeak.
He frowns back at me. “Yes. The agency called me a month ago, explained the applicant’s situation, and asked if we could come to an agreement for a long term rental over the winter months. When the deal was done and a copy of the agreement was emailed to me, I recognised the applicant’s name,” he tells me.
And I suddenly feel angry at him for not telling me. “Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask, trying to keep my cool.
“Because I didn’t think it was important,” he says, then stops drinking and stares down at me, his eyes dark and foreboding. “Why? Did he do something, or say anything that upset you?” he asks his tone firm.
I frown up at him. “No,” I whisper, ‘but I still don't understand why you didn’t tell me,” I add, and take another gulp of beer, realising I’ve nearly finished the bottle. Yet still feeling a little angry that he didn’t tell me he knew.
Tristan gets to his feet, heads into the kitchen, and quickly returns with two more bottles of beer. Placing them down in front of us, he sits back down and seems to be contemplating again, finally he speaks.
“When the email came through and I saw him name, at first I was livid that he knowingly had done this, so I made arrangements through the agency to meet with him. And when I did, my gut reaction was to call the whole thing off, but he told me he had no idea it was your studio when he saw the advertisement, and that he really needed this deal. So I thought why not, I have nothing to fear about him being there, do I?” he questions.
I shake my head. “No, you don't,” I tell him firmly.
“Good,” he breathes – he seems relieved.
And then it hits me – that’s why he wanted to come with me today. And why he looked annoyed when I said I was going to see
Bob.
“Is that why you wanted to come with me today? Because you knew that Justin was there, or may have been there?” I ask.
He smiles his crooked smile. “Yes, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. In hindsight I should have at the time, but I didn’t want anything to upset you. The last two months without any drama have been wonderful. I was just trying to protect you,” he softly says, and reaches up to softly stroke my cheek with his knuckle.
I decide to let it go, the fact that he didn’t tell me, but he still needs to know what happened. I take another drink of beer. “Ok, but you should know I bumped into him today,” I whisper.
Tristan freezes. “The deal was he keeps away from you,” he tells me, ‘so if you’re telling me that he’s harassing you, I’ll have him out, tomorrow!” he growls. He does not look happy.
“Tristan,” I whisper, and place my hand in his. “It was fine, really,” I add.
He stares down at me, searching my face for any hidden truths. “So what happened?” he asks.
I tell him all about Bob falling over and the fact that Justin helped him out. “So, as I left I decided to say thank you to whoever it was,” I say, and take another gulp of beer – I’m starting to feel a little woozy.
“That’s understandable,” Tristan says, ‘and is that why you’re taking Bob to the doctors?”
I nod once. “Yeah...I’m worried about him Tristan,” I frown at the bottle of beer in my hand.
“Hey,” Tristan wraps his arm around my waist. “I’m sure he’s going to be fine,” he softly tells me and kisses my temple.
I blow out a deep breath. “I hope so,” I whisper, and try to pull myself out of any sad thoughts about Bob. “Anyway, Justin turned up just as I was walking away, and he invited me in.”
I feel him tense beside me, and look up at him. “He invited you in?” He says his voice low.
I sigh inwardly, maybe I shouldn’t have said anything, but then I change my mind, and decide on the whole truth, that way I have nothing to worry about.
“Yes. It was pouring out, I was getting soaked, he asked me in, so I did and I thanked him for taking care of Bob,’ I take a breath and continue, ‘he offered me a cup of tea, I said no, and then he told me that he missed me, that he still loves me, I told him that’s tough, and he should let me go because I am in love with you and I would never, ever leave you. Then we chatted about what we were both doing for Christmas and he offered to call if something happens to Bob, so I gave him our landline, then we wished each other a Merry Christmas, and I left.” I take two gulps of beer, feeling glad I managed to get it all out.
Tristan is gazing at me with warm eyes, as though he’s totally in love.
“What?” I ask, feeling all shy again.
“You were nervous about telling me,” he says.
I nod once and take another gulp of beer, noticing I’m almost two bottles down.
“You shouldn’t have been,” he softly says, then leans forward and gently places his lips on mine. “I trust you, implicitly,” he whispers against my lips, his big chocolate eyes melting me again.
I smile back at him, feeling so much better for it. “I trust you too,” I whisper back.
Tristan chuckles then, and seems to relax again. “So what else happened?” he asks.
And my worry about Justin is forgotten, so I launch into the story about the rest of my day.
“So we only have Bob coming over?” Tristan says.
“Yes,” I sigh, trying not to feel sad about it all again.
Tristan gazes back at me. “I know you’re sad about it, but honestly, I’m relieved,” he says, totally surprising me.
“You are?” I squeak.
He nods once. “Coral, I don’t want you hosting at all. It’s a lot of work, and I know how stubborn you are. You wouldn’t have allowed me to help you, so I’d have had no choice but to stand back, watching you get stressed, which you would have done, and I don't want that for you.” He tells me firmly.
I gape at him. “I wouldn’t have got stressed,” I argue.
He cocks an eyebrow up at me.
“Ok, maybe a little stressed,” I chuckle.
“Exactly!” he says, ‘and you’ve been through enough, we both have. And I think we deserve a happy, relaxed Christmas,” he says.
“You mean a sexy one!” I retort dryly.
He smiles his crooked smile again, and chuckles slightly. “Well I’m not going to say no to that,” he says, making me giggle...
AFTER ANOTHER HOUR of eating Tristan’s delicious spread, drinking more tequila shots and beer, and talking and laughing the whole time, I feel well and truly relaxed, and I have to say, a little drunk. As I stagger slightly towards the downstairs bathroom, I have to wonder if it was Tristan’s plan to get me drunk - Hmm...tequilla!
I wobble slightly as I stand to wash my hands, and try to focus on my blurry reflection. Then as I’m attempting to dry my hands, I hear Edith come home, chat for a moment with Tristan, then head up the stairs. I frown slightly, knowing that if Tristan and I end up sexing again, we’re going to have to be quiet, and I hate having to do that.
A light bulb moment strikes! - I decide that when I finally get round to talking to Tristan about moving, that we should buy a place that has a separate annex for Edith and Danny, that way, we don't have to worry about anyone walking in on us.
I nod several times at my reflection, and congratulate myself on such a fantastic idea. I then start to smile, widely, for absolutely no reason at all – Must be the tequila!
With that thought in mind, I turn towards the door, and attempt to unlock it. I realise of course, that the door not opening has nothing to do with the door, but my incapacity to unlock it, which makes me burst into a fit of giggles. I try several times, still laughing uncontrollably, to unlock the bathroom door, until I finally get it right. Phew!
Standing up tall, and trying to hide the fact that I feel tipsy, I look down the hallway and see Tristan sitting on the sofa, noticing he looks very happy and serene. Hmm...my sexy man!
I manage to take a few steps without wobbling, and thinking I’m doing so bloody fantastically, I stop concentrating on the task of reaching the sofa, and end up falling over my own two feet, which I think is fucking hilarious! - Why is everything so funny when you’re drunk?
Tristan is stood above me, shaking his head, but he’s smiling. “You ok?” he chuckles.
“Yes!” I manage to say between fits of giggles, ‘I fell over,’ I add.
“I know,” Tristan says as he bends down to me. “You’re so cute when you’re drunk baby,” he says, and helps me to my feet. Then he leads me over to the sofa, and gently sits me down. “I think we should go to bed,” he softly says.
Mmm...bed with my sexy man – I lean forward to kiss him, and almost topple over, but Tristan catches me in time – I’m giggling again.
“I don't mean for that,” he tells me.
“Then I want to stay here and watch Scrooge,” I manage to slur. It happens to be my favourite Christmas film because it’s funny and it has Bill Murray in it, and I want Tristan to see it. There are so many films he hasn’t seen because of working all the time. “You work too hard,” I add.
Tristan smiles widely at me. “We can watch it in bed,” he replies, and I notice his tone is firm. He’s telling me off!
“Tristan! - His lips reach mine, silencing whatever it is I was about to say, and now he’s done that, I can't remember what it is I was about to say.
“Bed!” He says, and before I can argue, he’s lifted me up into his arms and he’s carrying me up the stairs. Reaching our room, he places me on the bed, undresses me and starts the movie. “Get under the covers darling, I’ll be back in a minute,” he says, and so I do.
There are two Bill Murray’s – I squeeze one eye shut as I try to focus on him, but it doesn’t help. I sit up and try to focus on the film, the words, but decide I could be here all night and flop back down onto the pillows.
&n
bsp; Finally, Tristan is back in the room. “Where have you been?” I ask, very sleepily now.
“Switching everything off, and getting you some water,” he says, I kind of notice he has something in his hand. “Here baby, take these,” he says.
I struggle to sit up, but take the tablets from him, dropping them twice onto the bed, so Tristan takes over. He manages to get them onto my tongue, then keeping hold of the glass of water, he gently tips it up so I can get a good couple of gulps to swallow the tablets.
“Ok?” he asks, chuckling now.
I nod my head as I can hear his words, but somewhere at the back of my mind, I don't understand how I got this drunk. I flop back down onto my pillow and hug it tightly.
“Sleep now baby,” he whispers, and kisses my cheek.
“’Kay,” Is the last thing I remember saying...
Seven
THE FOLLOWING MORNING I wake to the sound of the wind howling, and the rain lashing against the window. I guess we’re having another storm, which makes me feel crappy because we have to go Christmas shopping today, which means facing the weather. Ugh! Just the thought of the cold wind and the icy rain makes me pull the duvet up over my head, wanting nothing more than to stay in bed all day. Why can't we get snow like other countries? It’s much prettier, and much nicer than wind and rain!
With that thought in mind, I turn on my side and reach out for Tristan, only to find he’s not there, and I hate it when that happens. Slowly sitting up, I look outside and see it most definitely is another storm – I can see huge grey clouds, and it’s so dark and miserable, that it feels like night time - I immediately have panicky moment with that thought – Have I slept through the whole day? - I look up at the clock on the wall – 8.35am. Phew!
I instantly feel relieved, and as I scan my surroundings, I notice my clothes from last night are neatly folded on the chair in the corner, and then I notice a big glass of veggie juice sat on my bedside table – Yummy!
A Christmas Wish--A Contemporary Erotic Feel Good Christmas Romance (Darkest Fears Christmas Special, Book Four) Page 8
