Layers Deep

by Lacey Silks

  “If your mom says it’s okay, then that’s fine.”

  “Hold on. Let me see that.” Tristan’s voice rushed across the basement toward us. He looked into Emma’s bowl as if he held a degree in coloring, then checked the tube she’d squeezed the paste from. Was there anything Tristan Cross couldn’t do? He placed the glass of scotch on a table to the side and set my drink there too.

  “Okay.”

  “Yay!”

  Emma sat me down in a reclining chair and lowered me back, while Mrs. Cross pulled out another chair for Tristan. She covered him with a towel around his neck and front.

  Butterflies flapped against my stomach. I felt like I was getting an extreme makeover, which I probably was. Yet the truth of why we were going undercover lingered in my mind. I’d never forgotten what I’d have to do and how strong I’d need to remain.

  “Relax, Allie. This will take a while.”

  “Okay.”

  I closed my eyes. For the next hour, Emma colored and washed and brushed and dried my hair, and for the next three hours, once she finished with Tristan and sent him upstairs, Mrs. Cross worked every inch of my head sewing in extensions. The smell of chemicals slowly faded. Emma didn’t let me look in the mirror even once. At the end, she applied make-up to my face, and I hoped it wasn’t eighties style. My curiosity grew every minute, and when they finally let me look in the mirror, I couldn’t recognize the girl standing there. For a moment, I even thought it was someone else.

  “Holy shit.” My hand flew to my mouth, but neither Emma nor Mrs. Cross seemed to mind. “I’m sorry.”

  “You look hot!” Emma jumped up and down like she’d just gotten a birthday and Christmas gift at once. I hadn’t even seen her react this way when both brothers gave her their little bribes.

  “You’re a magician,” I said to her.

  “I don’t even recognize you.” My mother, who’d been quiet for most of the day, spoke up. Her eyes glistened and I could tell she was holding back tears.

  “Ah, Mom…” I couldn’t get the rest of the words out when she embraced me, whispering in my ear. “This job, please be careful.”

  “I promise,” I replied, hoping to ease her worry. But I couldn’t help feeling my nerves spike – which was a good thing. I needed to be on guard for this job.

  I brushed my fingers through the smooth strands now reaching past my shoulder blades. The crow-black hair was like silk and held a hint of purple, visible only in light.

  “I love it, thank you.” I hugged them both tightly. I’d never felt as beautiful as at that moment.

  “Here.” Emma handed me a box. “Tristan said to put these contacts in before you go home.” Emma gave me a gift bag Tristan had left behind. Within it was a new set of black lingerie, including a garter belt and stockings, as well as a fitted red dress. I changed in the downstairs bathroom and came out. I couldn’t wait for Tristan to see me. Would he be pleased?

  “Is Tristan not here?” I looked around the hall but couldn’t find him. My chest deflated.

  “Tristan had to leave. I’ll take you home.” Julian stepped out of the shadow.

  “All right.”

  After lots of hugs and kisses and tears from my mom, we finally made it to Julian’s BMW. And as expected, he opened my door before getting in himself.

  “You look hot.” The predatory look in his eyes was identical to Tristan’s.

  “Thanks. This is not my usual wardrobe.” I never owned more than two dresses at a time. My attire normally was comprised of a uniform that flattened my chest and a set of sweats to change into when I got home.

  “It should be. My brother has good taste in women. Are you two serious?” He turned on the ignition.

  “Not really. I don’t know. He’s still my boss, and so are you. If you’re concerned about me getting Kendra out, you shouldn’t be.”

  “I can see why he’s so smitten with you. Listen. There’s something you should know about Kendra.” He paused. My head jolted up, and he had my full attention. “She and Tristan have a past, and I wouldn’t want that to come between you two.”

  “I thought they had, but why are you telling me this?”

  “Because I’d hate to see you caught off guard when we get her. Tristan tends to feel very protective of Kendra.” The grip on his steering wheel tightened.

  “Why?”

  “They were close once.” He looked at me for a moment before his gaze returned to the road.

  “Oh.” I bit my lip. “It was serious, then?”

  “You mean before she stabbed him in the chest? I’m sure you’ve seen the scar.” The lopsided grin said I know you had sex.

  “Yes, I have,” I whispered, suddenly the car felt hotter than it had before. Kendra was the one who’d hurt him, and now Tristan was determined to help her. Why? Perhaps he was still in love with Kendra. And even if he wasn’t, I had no claim on him. He was only my boss; although one who had turned both my world and my body upside down. But Tristan Cross was the type to forget his own pain to help others. He always appeared to put their feelings before his own. But why was Julian telling me this?

  “You like her?” I took a guess.

  “She’s my brother’s girl.”

  “But they’re not together.”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “What about the sharing is caring?”

  “You’ve been talking to Emma,” he chuckled. “That was long ago. I told him I’d ask her out and he bet me he could do it first, for fun. Tristan won.” Julian’s face darkened with regret.

  He finally looked at me. “Ah, come on. I couldn’t resist a bet. I was young and stupid. We were only teens.”

  “But if he hadn’t challenged you, Kendra would have been yours.”

  Julian dismissed my comment, but he didn’t have to acknowledge it. In a time of what should have been a brotherly rivalry, feelings had developed. Julian in some way not only lost Kendra, he’d also lost his brother.

  “Kendra was Tristan’s first. You never forget your first.”

  That was true – but from my own experience, if your first wasn’t the right person, it didn’t matter. You might not forget him, but it didn’t mean he was right for you.

  “Why does she mean so much to you, Julian?”

  “I don’t know. While Tristan will never forgive her, even if she was high, I could have. I know I could help her get better.”

  “Was she your first too?” I asked.

  “How did you know?” He broke his concentration driving.

  “You just told me.”

  “Geez, you don’t miss a beat, do you?”

  “It’s the way you talk about her.”

  “That obvious? Allie, you can’t mention that to Tristan. It didn’t mean anything to her at the time, but it did to me. I’d like to get another chance. Tristan doesn’t know.”

  As much as the devil inside me pressed my mind to tell Tristan the truth, I couldn’t do that. I wouldn’t betray Julian’s trust.

  “It sounds like you’d be good for her,” I said, watching his reaction. Julian’s mouth curved up. The man had it bad for his brother’s ex.

  “Don’t worry, we’ll get her out. You’ll have her soon enough.”

  What I’d said was selfish. In the back of my mind I knew that if Julian took care of Kendra, that would leave Tristan all for me. Was that what he’d wanted? Or had Tristan hired me only so I could get her back for him?

  “You’re in love with her, and you can’t tell her.”

  “I have been for a long time. I think I understand what she’s been through. My branch of the company deals more with substance abuse, but she’s my brother’s ex and he—they’re just complicated.”

  “Because she stabbed him?”

  “Yes. That scar will always remind him of her. No matter whether they’re together or not, he’ll always think of her when he touches that scar. And I hate him for it. Even if I’m able to be with Kendra, he’ll always think of her. He’ll always be t
he one who had her first.”

  The thought of Tristan’s scar being a permanent reminder ached at my core.

  “If you love her, it shouldn’t matter.”

  We were parked in the underground garage of Tristan’s apartment.

  “Easier said than done.” Julian looked ahead toward the elevator. “Look, I’m sorry I’m the one you’re hearing this from. I want to make things right for Tristan, Kendra, you, and me. I just need a chance.”

  I leaned over and hugged Julian as if he were my own brother. His physique was so similar to Tristan’s it was difficult not to imagine him there. No wonder I’d mistaken him for his brother in that bar. “I’m glad we can be honest, and I know we’ll find Kendra.”

  He kissed the top of my head, and I felt relief in the way his tensed body eased into mine.

  “Thank you. My brother’s a good guy, and he’s very smitten with you. Is it selfish for me to think if he has you, perhaps he’ll stay away from Kendra?”

  I laughed. “Is it selfish for me to think if you can be with her, that will leave Tristan for me?”

  “I think we’ll be just fine, Green.”

  “I think we will.” I pulled back, looking into those hypnotizing eyes. Both Cross brothers were so easy to look at.

  “Thank you. I think for once Tristan chose well.”

  And with that I left toward the elevator that took me up to Tristan’s penthouse.

  CHAPTER 13

  He sat on the couch, his white shirt open, tie undone, and a scotch in his hand. A blend of the expensive alcohol floated in the air. The half-empty bottle reflected orange light. He must hand come home some time ago. For a moment, I didn’t recognize Tristan. His hair was much shorter and crow-black just like mine. He wore blue contacts, the same shade as the ones Emma had given me. For whatever reason he’d left his parents’ house early, it couldn’t have been to his liking. Only one thing could change his mood now, or at least make him forget whatever was troubling him.

  His breaths were deep. As soon as the door opened he devoured my every single move, stripping me naked with his gaze. I removed my shoes and strolled to the plush carpet at the foot of the couch without saying a word. A flex under his pants signaled his need.

  The way he scanned my body from the bottom up felt like his fingers were already exploring my skin. Yet we were still more than five feet apart. I stepped a little closer. A deep rumble sounded from where Tristan was sitting. He downed the last gulp of his scotch and set the glass down onto the side table. He breathed me in, and I got lost in his scent as well.

  I unzipped the side of my red dress and lowered it to the floor, slowly, unveiling the new silky black lingerie that didn’t leave much to the imagination. The tent in his pants rose higher. Tristan adjusted the crotch of his dress pants as if they were getting too tight, and beckoned me in with his gaze.

  “You look fucking beautiful,” he said.

  “Then come over here and fuck me.” I stepped closer.

  His index finger wiggled from side to side, stopping me from moving forward. I obliged to the commanding gesture. It was as if he wanted to appreciate the full view of me, standing half-naked in the middle of his living room.

  “Touch yourself,” he ordered.

  I inhaled sharply, but couldn’t deny the damp desire increasing in my see-through panties. At that point I was so aroused by his request, the new look, and authoritative tone, I’d do anything he asked of me. And every single sensitive part of my body was begging to be touched. I lifted my hands and cupped my breasts, squeezing them a little, teasing him in the process.

  “Your pussy,” he growled.

  I knew that’s what he’d meant, but seeing him fire up like that, when I got his instructions wrong, drove me mad. Sliding my hand down my tummy, I watched his reaction shift with every inch I came closer to my panties. Uneasy excitement and apprehension rolled through me. He took a deep breath in, and then his lungs held still.

  I touched the wetness of my folds, parting the heated flesh.

  He released his breath.

  I closed my eyes, moaning – partly for him, and partly because it felt so good to touch myself in front of someone else. I’d never done that before. When I opened my eyes, his hand was on his crotch stroking through the fabric of his stretched pants. My brows rose, and as if listening to my command, he pulled on his zipper, letting his erection spring free. He wasn’t wearing any underwear, and he slid his slacks down to his thighs, which I found very sexy. A drop of moisture glistened at the tip of his cap and I licked my lips. His cock flexed at that gesture and he gripped his shaft in his palm. As much as I wanted his thickness between my lips, sliding along my flesh and stretching me, I couldn't deny this was too arousing to stop.

  A clasp of desire tightened in my belly. Tristan stroked himself up and down while I played with my swollen folds. My fingers drew the hot, slippery moisture higher to my clit. The touch was painfully pleasing and I couldn’t help but flick it and tease it, circling faster and faster. My breaths shortened, their loudness seeming that of someone else. Tristan's rhythm increased and I was nearing the point of no return rapidly. With my eyes wide open I followed his strokes, bending forward. My other hand cupped my left breast and I pinched the nipple the way Tristan would have. The swelling grew between my fingers as I masturbated at his request and to my need. So close...

  “Stop,” he hushed, lowering himself to the floor.

  I froze, pulling my hand away from my pussy. The ache of an oncoming orgasm roamed through my body. It almost hurt to stop. My palm twitched to return to the mound, but I obeyed Tristan. I knew he wouldn’t disappoint me, and the reward of him finishing me off was greater than what I would have experienced in a few seconds. It would only take one touch or one lick from him and I’d be done, relishing in my orgasm.

  Tristan crawled on his knees toward me, still with his pants halfway down his legs. I stood still. He cupped my ass and lowered his head to my panties, inhaling my scent.

  “You smell fucking delicious.” He pulled his tongue over the fabric, biting a little, and then took another deep inhale. He may as well have licked me up and down my slit. I pressed harder into him, wanting just one more touch, but he looked up at me from below.

  I was sure the smell of my excitement would get the wolves howling on the other side of the city. I could not only feel the wetness of my arousal but also smell it, mingling with the smell of sweat and scotch and pure lust.

  His fingers kneaded my ass, digging in closer to the center. Under the guiding pressure of his hands, I lowered to my knees. The touch of his soft hands revived my body. He slid his palms up along my back and unclasped my bra, freeing my breasts. They spilled to the sides and he prized them in his hands, playing with their ample weight before his mouth took one of my nipples in. His tongue drew around the hardened peak, flicking it once, then again. The sharper pain of his teeth gripping me shot through me, centering deep between my legs. As the sensation traveled down my chest and belly, it turned from a zap to a trickle, intensifying in my panties, reviving the cooling bliss I’d almost experienced. He bit into me once more and then pulled the nipple higher before releasing it.

  I moaned. The pleasure of his concentrated teases spread like a current, shocking me right in the center of my sensitive triangle, over and over again. When his fingers traced my hip and drew up my inner thigh, I parted my legs just a bit and couldn’t breathe, waiting for him to just touch me there. I could already feel I’d explode at his first touch. And when he tugged the elastic of my panties to the side, the room spun.

  “Gosh, you’re so wet,” he breathed into my neck. A hint of his scotch filled me at the same time his finger slid inside me. I squeezed around him like I didn’t want to let go, wishing for his thickness there instead, and lowered my hands to remove my panties.

  “These stay on.” He grabbed my hand and kissed my finger.

  For now, I thought.

  Tristan really did have a fetish for
black lingerie, didn't he?

  My arms wrapped around his neck. I slid his white shirt off his body and weaved my fingers into his hair, pressing my naked front to his chest. His palms supported my weight against my spine as he lowered me to the plush carpet with ease, as if I were a rag doll. My back drowned in the soft fibers. The lights were dimmed. Soothing music played on the radio. Supporting himself on his elbows, his lips grazed my earlobe and my jaw line as he hovered above my mouth.

  “Get these off. I need you inside me, please.” I yanked his jeans off with my feet, opening myself perfectly for him. And if it weren’t for my drenched panties, he’d see my welcoming opening, all moist and ready, waiting for him.

  Tristan growled. His mouth lowered to my hip and he gripped the panties in his teeth, removing them with one swift pull. I was forced to place my legs together, but as soon as the lace was off, I planted my soles on the carpet, spreading my knees apart. He hovered over my body and slid inside me without a word or a groan, keeping his new blue gaze fixed on me. But the depth of his dark eyes shone through with desire, even with the light contacts.

  He pushed in all the way and held still for a moment before pulling out, as if he were testing new waters.

  “I don’t even recognize you.” His voice deepened and took an intimate hush.

  “I don’t recognize me either.” Which was true. Since the day I met Tristan, I’d wanted to be the woman he needed. The one he wanted for both his job and at his side, in his bed. I wanted him to need and want only me, to protect me, and I’d do anything to please him.

  And with his new hair, it felt like I was fucking a complete stranger whom I’d known for years.

  Tristan held my hips steady. He cocked his head to the side, increasing the tantalizing pace. The merciless friction between us and the rhythmic rocking rubbed my clit. I arched my back, tilting my pelvis, pressing hard against him, feeling my tip move back and forth. Grinding against him my full arousal returned in seconds.

  I grasped his bicep and my nails dug into his skin. Tristan lunged into me, his sweat dripping off his forehead down on my chest. He gritted his teeth. The exquisite stretch of him inside me, plunging in as if his life depended on getting in deeper, fogged my senses. Nothing around us mattered, just me and him, our flesh connecting, rubbing and teasing. His tip hit that perfect spot, jutting it harder on each entry. The slap of flesh against flesh, our heavy breathing, and his smell of whisky were too much as I released my scream at the same time he stilled inside me, filling me with his seed.