by Nana Malone
The dreams she could deal with. At least they weren’t public knowledge. But the days at work had become a version of water torture.
The two of them had retreated to their separate corners as usual, but they didn’t even speak. And if they did, it was with that tight politeness she’d instituted in Vegas.
She finally understood. All those women she’d seen falling at his feet and practically, if not literally, throwing themselves at him, she got it. She was a member of that fan club. Even had the damn T-shirt.
But now that was all over and she was supposed to just pretend it never happened? She wasn’t that good. It didn’t help that sometimes she’d catch him looking at her. And not in the hot, speculative way he used to, but more in the hot “I know what you taste like and I want some more” kind of way.
A brief knock on her door brought her out of her reverie and Olivia sauntered in without knocking. “Do you want to tell me what in the world is going on with you and Tristan Dawson?”
Oh, crap. Lying was not one of her skills. But she didn’t want to go into it. Liv would give her the “Are you out of your damn mind?” look, then possibly slap her for her stupidity.
“What do you mean?”
Olivia frowned as she scrutinized her. “Well, for starters, you guys haven’t had a single knock-down, drag-out fight in nearly two weeks. I keep popcorn in my desk just for those occasions. Second, you two were entirely too polite to each other in this morning’s staff meeting. Third, I just got the word from Bryan that the new Wilkinson campaign is a go and I asked Tristan if he would try to wrestle you for the client and all he did was shake his head and say you deserved it. Not to mention the way he’s been staring at you. Girl, it’s hotter than ever. If he looked at me that way, I might forget he’s a walking advertisement for Trojan and jump his bones.” Liv sank into the leather seat across from her. “So spill.”
When in doubt deny. “Sorry, Liv, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Bull.” She leaned forward, pointing an accusatory finger her way. “And you’re a bad liar, so don’t even start. What in the world happened in Vegas?”
Syn sighed. “Would you believe we buried something in the desert?”
“I’d only believe that if it was his dead body. C’mon, what’s with you?”
“We sort of called a truce, buried the hatchet.”
Olivia’s eyebrows shot up. “And by bury, do you mean bone?”
“Liv!”
“Honey, I’m just saying the intense gazes, the way you guys don’t look at each other... This reeks of—” Liv’s mouth dropped open. “Oh my, you really did sleep with him.”
“Would you keep your voice down?” Synthia whispered. “I do not need this getting out.”
Liv leaned forward and muttered in an exaggerated whisper, “I’ll keep my voice down if you tell me the truth. Consider me a vault of information.”
Heat spread over Synthia’s skin as she said, “Fine. I slept with him.”
Olivia blinked. Her mouth moved, but nothing came out. Finally she shook her head and tried again. “Okay, first things first... How was it?”
Syn nodded. “He’s every bit as good as he thinks he is.”
Liv fake-swooned. “Oh God. Is it okay that I’m equal parts mortified and equal parts totally jealous?”
“Yeah, I’m mortified too. Well, more mortified that I was so reckless. Now we’re having to deal with the aftermath.”
“Okay, start from the beginning. Leave nothing out.”
As Synthia recounted the story, Olivia sat forward listening intently. Finally she spoke. “So you want to sleep with him again.”
Yes. “No. Of course not. It’s better this way. It’s just awkward. I mean, I don’t have flings. I keep it professional. This is my career, my life.”
“I mean, you said you sort of like him.”
“I said I understand him better. He’s not so bad.” And she liked him.
“So you’re saying there’s no way you’re going to enjoy him now that you’re back?”
Syn sighed. “Well, he made it pretty clear that it was only temporary, and I don’t know what I want. And this is my career we’re talking about. I don’t need the gossip. I want to be judged on my work and not who I was dumb enough to sleep with.” Even if she did want him so bad the weaker part of her wasn’t opposed to begging.
“Everyone knows how good you are, Syn.”
“Trust me, they’ll forget. Soon enough, this will be the narrative. Besides, he was temporary. More important, I was just another girl in the long line of temporary for him.”
Olivia frowned. “Maybe you weren’t. He looks like he’s pretty beat up about something.”
Syn tilted her chin up. “I promise you it isn’t me.”
* * *
Tristan tried to keep his focus. It was hard enough that he had a lot to prepare for the Bliss presentation, but every time he thought his head was clear, Syn would work her way in. They’d managed to keep their distance, but it wasn’t exactly easy. Staff meetings were mandatory, but he’d taken to slipping in just before they started so he could avoid her. Unfortunately today it seemed that she had the same idea. Cue awkward dance in the doorway, where her perfume had swirled around him making him foggy and incoherent for several seconds. He’d been completely useless the rest of the day.
Now with everyone gone for the day, he could finally get some work done.
Stacking his material, he headed to the conference room for more space. He wanted to spread out to look at what he’d pulled for his presentation. Every office and cube on this half of the floor was dark.
He turned the corner to find the lights in the conference room already on. What the? “Hey, is anyone still here—”
He halted short and took in the view, a woman bent over the table and fiddled with the projector, her leather pencil skirt pulled tight over her taut behind. Syn. She jumped with surprise and whirled around. “Tristan. I didn’t know anyone else was still here.”
He tried to swallow around the sawdust in his mouth. In Vegas he’d been fool enough to think he could forget about everything that had happened. He knew better now. He wanted her, but more than that, he wanted to be with her.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to surprise you.” He set down his binders and charts on the long rectangular table. “Do you need help with the projector?” If she was working in here, he’d have to use the smaller conference room at the end of the hall.
“I think I got it.” She turned round again and stretched to reach the last cable. With each stretch, the fabric pulled over her butt again and he groaned.
She froze. For a long breath neither of them moved. She met his gaze in the reflection of the window. Her lips parted and her tongue peeked out to moisten her lips. When she sucked her bottom lip in and grazed it with her teeth, his tenuous hold on his control snapped.
He slid his hand up over her back, and then back down over her ass. Her breath came out as a little huff and she widened her stance.
His voice was thick as he spoke. “I can’t get you out of my head.”
“What happened to going back to normal?”
With shaking hands, he bracketed her hips and slowly turned her around to face him. “I was clearly an idiot.”
He paused just a breath from kissing her. A shudder ran through her body and she parted her lips. “What are you doing?”
“Something I’ve been thinking about doing since we got back.”
The kiss started off sweet. Just a peck, their lips barely even touching. More of an exchange of breaths. But then he kissed her again, and the same dangerous spark that had ignited between them in Vegas grew and spread, until his skin itched with the need to touch her.
Tentatively she touched her tongue to his and it took all hi
s control not to take over the kiss. She was testing him out. Seeing if she could trust him. With a soft moan she settled into the kiss, dipping her tongue into his mouth, toying with his. She wound her hands into his hair, drawing him to her, closer, arching her body into his.
He released her for the briefest of moments to lock the door and ensure their privacy. Then with trembling hands, he released the pin that held her bun together. For two weeks he’d been dying to do that. To see his Syn, the secret Syn, the one no one else knew. One hand toyed with the silken tresses while the other fumbled with the buttons on her blouse. The deep V had taunted him all through the staff meeting.
She helped out by tugging her blouse out of her skirt, and then she went for the zipper on his jeans.
The only sound that permeated the silence of the conference room was his moans as she scored her nails down his back. Followed by her mewling sounds when he yanked down the cups of her delicate bra, freeing her breasts.
Tristan tore his lips from her. “Wow, I missed you.”
He kissed his way along her jawline to the column of her neck, to her collarbone and finally to her breast. Full and ripe, the chocolate-tipped peaks beckoned to him. Gently he laid her back on the conference table and stepped deeper between her legs. Dipping his head, he hovered just over one nipple, gently blowing on it. She arched her back into him impatiently. He pulled a dark bud into his mouth and she called out, “Tristan.”
He suckled gently and she rolled her hips against him impatiently.
Sliding his hands under her skirt, he paused for a moment just as his fingers approached her soft center. “Are there any surprises here for me?”
Harsh breaths tore from her throat. “Maybe.”
“I do like surprises.”
He slid a finger past her panty line and growled. “I see you’re still smooth.”
“Surprise.”
Chuckling, Tristan hooked his finger in her panties and tugged down. She scooted to the edge, lifting her hips to help him. He released her breast and pulled back. Lowering himself to his knees, he hiked her skirt all the way up.
The heather-soft skin of her sex glistened with moisture. Beckoning him. When he licked her, her hips bucked off the table and he wrapped his hands around her thighs to keep them wide.
He took his time stroking her soft folds with his tongue while he teased her clit with his thumb.
As he tasted and teased, he knew the moment she was close. The quiver in her legs always gave it away. Pulling back and standing, his movements hurried yet efficient, he retrieved a condom and sheathed himself.
Syn watched him intently, and he didn’t tear his gaze from hers.
Tristan joined their bodies. Inch by inch, he slid into her silken depths, losing a piece of himself as he went.
One word buzzed through his head as her body stroked his cock like a pulsing glove. Home.
Chapter 13
Synthia tried not to watch Tristan as they sat in on the client meeting. But her body betrayed her, and every thirty seconds or so she’d accidentally meet his gaze and he would wink at her.
Her phone buzzed in her palm and she glanced down at it.
Tristan: Meet me at Griffith Park Observatory tonight.
Synthia: Why?
Tristan: I want to talk to you.
Synthia: You’re not giving me I-want-to-talk-to-you-eyes right now.
She glanced up at him and even though his eyes were trained on Bryan, he grinned. Her phone buzzed again.
Tristan: What eyes am I giving you?
Heat flushed her body. She’d ignore him. How hard could it be really? That way he wouldn’t wink at her and graze his bottom lip with his teeth or make her remember last night. And of course her mind, like her body, was in no mood to behave as a memory of the previous night flashed. After they’d made love, he stayed inside her. She’d felt every pulse, every twitch. He’d held her and kissed her softly, whispering, “I miss you,” in her ear.
Bryan turned to her. “Synthia, will you and Tristan be ready to present this Friday? Bella will be coming into the office. She’s been in Italy for the last two weeks, so this is the best she can do.”
Syn nodded. “I can be ready.”
Tristan nodded, as well. “I’ll be ready too.” Bryan turned his attention to the remainder of the employees and continued discussing quarterly numbers and new client business.
Syn’s phone buzzed again.
Tristan: I was serious when I said we had to talk last night.
Synthia: Not a good idea.
Tristan: Please, I’ll behave.
She smiled and narrowed her eyes at him. His expression of mock innocence didn’t fool her. But she was curious and they did need to talk. He made her reckless and she didn’t want a repeat of last night. Yes, you do. Okay, fair enough, but she didn’t want it under those circumstances again. And the more she ignored him, the more out of control she’d feel. She texted back, Fine, but I’ll meet you there. A shadow crossed over his expression quickly, but it was gone so fast she might have imagined it.
Tristan: Fine. Just as long as you meet me.
* * *
That night, she dressed carefully, since she wasn’t sure of how things would end up with them. Skinny jeans, a silk blouse, and a blazer with boots. The only concession to semidate status she made was to wear her hair down.
He waited for her outside, pacing in front of the entrance. “Am I late?”
Relief chased a grin as he saw her. “No. I guess I was a little early.”
She rolled her shoulders, willing them to relax. “So...what did you want to talk about?”
He leaned into her. “Are we really going to pretend last night didn’t happen?”
She sighed. “I’m not sure what you want from me, Tristan. It feels like you’re playing a game with me and I have to tell you, I don’t know the rules.”
He took her hand. “I’m not playing a game with you. I swear.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “I haven’t got a clue how to do this, but here it is. I want to be with you.”
She frowned and tried to tug her hand back. “You mean you want an affair.”
Tristan stroked his thumb over the back of her hand. “No. I mean I want to be with you. Yes, I can’t seem to keep my hands off you, but I also want the parts of you where you laugh and you stick your hair in a giant ponytail on top of your head before you sleep, and the part where you fight with me and call me a moron, and the part where you dance when you think no one is watching, and the part of you that lights up when you do something a little dangerous or naughty. I want to be with you. I was kidding myself in Vegas. There’s no compartmentalizing my feelings for you and I was crazy to try.”
Her heart hammered and the blood rushed in her ears. “I don’t know what to say.”
He chuckled and let his head hang. “Okay, let me walk you through it. This is the part where you tell me how you feel. Maybe this was just a Vegas thing for you. Maybe last night was a mistake and you want nothing to do with me.”
“Tristan, I didn’t say that.”
He released her hand. “Then tell me what you’re thinking. I can’t read you. In Vegas it was so easy, but now I can’t make out all the nuances. You have to tell me something. Anything. Tell me it was all a mistake. Tell me you don’t want to see me anymore. Or better yet, tell me you can’t sleep without me next to you either. Tell me you think about me during the day and you spend half your days hoping you’ll run into me. But you have to tell me. I can’t guess.”
“Tristan, I—” She dragged in a breath. “I’m scared.”
He shook his head. “What are you so afraid of, Syn?”
“That you’ll break my heart.” The moment the words were out, she wished she could call them back.
He stepped
in front of her and stroked a thumb over her cheek. “I’m not going to hurt you. I wouldn’t do that.”
Tears pricked her eyes and she blinked them away rapidly. “I just—I don’t know how to do this.”
“I know.” He drew her into his body, and cradled her cheek in his palm. “All I’m looking for is for you to take a chance on me.”
His voice, his scent, the strength of his body. All those elements combined to weave a spell around her. She wanted him. If she was honest with herself, she’d admit that she always had. But could she do this? Jump in with him? Yeah. Oh yeah.
The alternative, not being with him, sucked. She’d tried that for two weeks and she wasn’t a huge fan. But trust didn’t come easy and he was still Tristan Dawson. “If we do this, how do we do this?” She pointed a finger back and forth between them. “At work? You’ll be insulated from gossip and stuff, but I won’t. Last night was—” She flushed. “Well, you were there, it was pretty awesome, but I’m not that woman. We can’t—”
“I completely agree. It was too risky. We’ll use discretion, and while sneaking around is hot, I’d rather not hide.”
She expelled a breath. “I need to take things slow. I’m not sure I can just jump into a relationship.”
Tristan ran his hands through his hair. “We’ll take it slow. Glacial even. Whatever you want. I just want a chance with you. I’ll take what I can get.”
“Tristan, are you sure you want to do this? With my trust issues and your panty-dropping smile, this isn’t exactly going to be easy. It’s a big step.”
He grinned. “Panty-dropping, huh?” He laughed but sobered quickly. “How about this? We’ll take it one step at a time. Nice and easy. We can start by me taking you on a date. Simple. And we’ll work on the trust thing.”
For the second time in less than a month, Synthia ignored the warning bells of caution. She wanted to be with him. Tugging on his lapels, she kissed him.
