Drawn to You — Volume Two

by Vanessa Booke

  The sounds of waves crashing outside draw me to the window as if calling my name. I grab one of the bottles of leftover beer from the kitchen and step through the sliding glass door. I find myself walking further and further from the beach house. Outside, the moon floats high above me reflecting on the tips of the waves breaking on the sand. My eyes are drawn to the black abyss that reaches as far as the naked eye can see. As hard as I stare, I can barely make out the lines where the sand ends and the ocean begins. I shouldn’t venture too far, but I can’t help but feel relieved as the tension from my shoulders releases with each step I take. The farther I walk down the sandy trail, the easier I find it is to breathe.

  A gust of wind whips at me as I spot the perfect place to sit and stare up at the stars. I sit back and drink my beer as I listen to the melodic sound of the nature around me. It’s not long after I finish the beer I found that I feel myself drifting into sleep. I should head back. I quickly give up, as my limbs feel too heavy to move. The feeling of the ocean sand brushing up against me suspends me in its gritty warmth. Despite the cold that creeps up my skin, the sand beneath me is strangely comforting. I rub my eyes as I spot a shadow moving in the distance. I try to focus on the shadow, but my eyelids droop. I force them open, but after a while, it’s pointless.

  It feels like I’ve been sleeping an eternity when I feel something warm grab ahold of me and lift me mid-air. The strong pressure against my side envelopes me in warmth. The feeling is strange yet addicting. I move my body closer against it hoping to draw it out.

  “You’re so cold, Lily Pad.”

  My eyes flutter open just long enough to see the ends of Tristan’s hair whipping around in the ocean breeze. His intense gaze is trained on my face as he brushes back my hair from my eyes. My head spins, but I’m not sure if it’s from the beer or the sensation of his touch.

  “Tristannn?” I slur.

  “Yes, sweetheart?”

  The sweetness of his voice catches me off-guard. My mind tries to process the words I want to say, but the only question that tumbles from my mouth is the one I’ve been wondering about for four years.

  “Why did you leave me?”

  He doesn’t reply. For a moment, I start to believe I’m dreaming, but it isn’t until I feel the soft fabric of my bed sheets that I realize he’s carried me all the way to my bedroom. Strong fingers grasp my shoes and slip them off. I try to pull off my jeans, but he beats me to it. His hands leave a trail of warmth as he pulls them over my hips, down and off my feet.

  “There’s fucking sand everywhere.”

  I shiver at the nakedness that I feel as my skin sits exposed to the coolness of the room.

  “Let’s get you warm.”

  A soft blanket slides across me as he pulls it underneath my chin. I look up to find Tristan looking down at me through the darkness as he tucks the ends at my sides.

  “You could’ve died from hypothermia. Nicholas is too preoccupied to notice you’re gone and Ceci is passed out.”

  “I’m fine,” I say, rolling to my side. “I would’ve been fine.”

  “It’s freezing outside! If something happened to you…”

  “Tristan, are you staying or going?” I ask, annoyed.

  “What?”

  “You can either stay and keep me warm or go and leave me alone. Pick one.”

  His silence sends a sharp pang through my chest. Of course, he’s going to go. Before I can pull my blanket over my head, I feel Tristan’s frame on top of the mattress. His warm hand slips under my chin as he forces me to turn and meet his gaze. A slow heat spreads among us as his skin meets mine.

  “You don’t know what you’re asking me,” he says with a dark gaze.

  “I know what I’m asking. I’m just not sure you can behave.”

  He chuckles. “So you’re not asking me to touch you?”

  “No, I’m asking you to lie beside me. Is that too much?”

  It’s not enough, but I don’t care. I want him to stay.

  “Fine, but I’m keeping my jeans on.”

  “Whatever,” I say, turning my back toward him.

  The bed dips as his frame stretches across the bed and the thud of his shoes on the wood floor. I smile to myself as he turns to me. A sound of frustration rumbles from him as he lies back against his pillow. I gently shift my hips as I press my bottom against him letting out a fake snore. To my surprise, the motion doesn’t go unnoticed. Tristan leans into me and encircles his hand around my waist pulling me against him. I gasp as his hot breath blows against my ear.

  “Careful, pet. You’re poking a bear.”

  “Am I?” I ask, shifting my bottom against him again.

  “I think you had little too much to drink tonight.”

  I press my bottom into him again. This time, his lips carefully trace the edge of my ear sending a rush of excitement through me.

  “You like living on the edge, don’t you?” He chuckles.

  “Yes,” I gasp.

  “Goodnight, Lily,” he whispers, kissing my cheek.

  What? I huff in frustration as he turns and buries his face into the pillow beside me. After several minutes, the tempo of his breathing slows. Did he really fall asleep? Anger filters through me as I fling my pillow at his head. To my dismay, it does almost nothing. He lifts his head for a moment, adjusts his position, and then slips my pillow under his chest. Perfect. Now I have no pillow.

  It doesn’t take long for my drunken anger to fade as sleep overtakes me.

  Tristan’s gone by the time I open my eyes again and with him, he takes the comforting heat of his skin.

  EIGHTEEN

  TRISTAN

  THE FOLLOWING MORNING I find myself wandering the outside in a state of unrest. The sun peaks over the horizon as I head back toward the beach house. After hours of walking on the sand, I’m finally exhausted enough to get some sleep. Keeping my hands off of Emily last night was no easy task. I could’ve touched her, but where would that leave her with her relationship with Augie. As happy as it would make me to feel her once again, I’m not going to ruin her happiness.

  As I step up a set of stairs leading to the house, I find Nicholas sitting on the veranda of the beach house drinking a bottle of Heineken. His ruffled waves of blond make a stark contrast to the perfectly combed look that I saw the other night. Nick looks up from his bottle momentarily with a small smile on his lips before chugging back the rest. His expression gradually morphs into a scowl as he stares across the white sandy beach. I know there’s something on his mind. He’s probably the least quiet person that I know. In fact, I’m surprised he isn’t talking to the Baywatch Babes down the way.

  “So you’re out here drinking by yourself?”

  “Not anymore,” he says, passing me an unopened bottle.

  “Is everyone still sleeping?”

  I take a seat next to Nicholas, stretching out my legs. He smirks at me as I pop open the beer with my palm.

  “They’re awake, and I think they’re on their way to another nudist section of the beach today. It’s supposed to be very exclusive.”

  “What?” I ask.

  “Yeah. I would’ve been more than happy to go, but I would claw my eyes out if I saw Em nude. It was bad enough hearing Ceci talk about going topless the other day.”

  Emily nude. The memory of her soft skin beneath me sends my cock stirring. Nicholas would kill me if he knew I couldn’t say I feel the same. I haven’t been able to get her out my head. It’s hard not to think about how much I wanted to fuck her last night.

  “I’m surprised you didn’t say anything to your sister about going,” I say, hoping Nicholas doesn’t pick up on the strain in my voice.

  “We were around a bunch of nudists the other day.”

  “Yes, but your sister wasn’t taking off her clothes then and Augie was with them. You know there are going to be creepy men there right?”

  A somber expression crosses his face. I watch as Nicholas puts down his beer and then stands u
p. I watch him as he places his hand on the wooden railing that wraps around with the veranda. His hands bunch into fists as he rocks back and forth on them.

  “You’d make a better brother to her than I would any day.”

  “Don’t ever fucking say that.”

  Nicholas turns to me confused. His eyes search my face for some kind of clue, but I give nothing away. God only knows how I would’ve been a horrible brother. I couldn’t even keep my hands off of someone who was supposed to be family. Guilt filters through my chest reeking havoc on my insides. I took her virtue like a fucking thief in the night, and the depressing part is I loved the feeling of doing it.

  “So what are the plans for tonight?”

  Nicholas’s face brightens as he lets out a hearty laugh.

  “Ceci and Emily are going out dancing. I’m not sure if we’re invited.”

  I smile. Dancing is something I am surprisingly good at. I have my mother to blame for that. When I was younger, she was always dancing around the house. It’s one of the few great memories I have left of her.

  “What do you say to crashing in on their plans?” he asks.

  “Hmm—I have a feeling someone might be pissed.”

  Nicholas laughs and throws his arm over my shoulder as he pulls me toward his car. A mischievous look lights up his face sending my mind whirling with possibilities.

  “But, what kind of brother would I be if I didn’t give my sister a hard time?” Nicholas says.

  I laugh. Tonight should be interesting.

  NINETEEN

  EMILY

  THE MEMORY OF Tristan’s hands on my hips plagues me as we enter the bar called Oasis.

  Ceci and I make our way past the sea of people on the dance floor as we search for Tristan and my brother. Surprisingly, the two of them decided to join us tonight. The bar is just as flooded as the dance floor making it almost unbearable to walk, let alone dance. If Augie were here, I would kick his ass. I can’t believe he ditched us for a date with Harvey. What happened to chicks before dicks?

  “Emily!”

  I see Nicholas as he pushes his way through the crowd. To my surprise, Tristan follows closely behind him. In spite of last night, he greets me with a normal warm smile. Unsurprisingly, he still manages to keep his distance from me avoiding my touch at every opportunity. As hard as that sounds with a club full of bodies, he makes it seem easy.

  “It looks like we weren’t the only ones with the same idea,” Nicholas yells over the club music.

  I catch Ceci adjusting her boobs as she pulls down her shirt. She tugs her pink tank so that it’s barely holding her chest in. I could kick myself for letting her borrow the shimmery top.

  Nicholas laughs. “What are you doing, Ceci?”

  “Getting us drinks,” she says determinedly.

  “I don’t know how appealing mosquito bites are,” Nicholas taunts.

  Ceci teases her hair with her fingers and then heads toward the bar as if she’s going in for an audition of a lifetime. Tristan’s chuckle draws my attention. A pang of jealousy hits me as I watch him stare after Ceci. The thought of Tristan enjoying the sight of Ceci’s chest is enough to make me want to vomit.

  “My boobs are bigger than you remember,” Ceci says.

  Something about the way Tristan is looking at Ceci annoys the hell out of me. How dare he check out my friend right in front of me? What the hell?

  “Libations are on their way, boys,” Ceci says.

  “I’m coming, Ceci” I pipe in.

  “Perfect. Four boobs are better than two.” We break off from the guys and head toward the bar, positioning ourselves closest to the front of the tabletop.

  Nicholas rolls his eyes. “I gotta see this.”

  “Don’t pester them, Nick. They’re trying to get us drinks.” Tristan smiles.

  Despite the flurry of women in the room, the bartender doesn’t seem to notice the way they throw themselves at him. I would think most guys would love the attention. I stare at the brightly colored tattoos that run up his arm compiling into a sleeve. He seems young with his spiky black hair, but from the few peppery stray hairs on his sideburn, I’m fairly certain he’s older than I am. It isn’t until his gaze catches mine that he moves over toward us. A perfect smile breaks across his face as he wipes the counter in front of us and leans in to take our drink order.

  “What can I get you beautiful ladies?”

  Ceci elbows me, acutely aware of the way the bartender is staring. My best friend might be wearing her shirt low, but he hasn’t taken his eyes off me.

  “Can we have two gin and tonics and two—”

  “Shots of Patron,” Ceci finishes.

  I shoot her a knowing look as I’m reminded of the last time I had tequila. The unfortunate night ended up with me face down over the toilet at one of my father’s work events. It wasn’t too long after my mother left and I was feeling more emotions than I ever wanted to feel. I swore I would never touch tequila again.

  “It’ll be fine,” she whispers.

  “Anything else,” he says as his gaze washes over me.

  “You can give my friend your number.”

  I blush in embarrassment. “Oh, Ceci, he doesn’t want to give me his number. Just let the guy do his job without being harassed.” To my surprise, he takes one of the coasters, writes his number, and then slides it to me.

  “I’m Tyler and I’m off at eleven.”

  “Oh, okay.” I smile.

  I’ve quickly learned over the years that any guy who wants to meet after work is usually a booty call. While this probably isn’t any different, Tyler is definitely a welcomed distraction from having to deal with Tristan. I lean forward flashing him a knowing smile. Maybe tonight won’t be so bad after all.

  TWENTY

  TRISTAN

  I HAVE NO right to be fucking jealous, but I am. I watch with anger filtering through my veins as the bartender with the tattooed sleeves flirts with Emily. The sight is torturous. I’m tempted to walk over and tell the guy to fuck off, but I stop myself.

  Breathe. Fuck. Just breathe.

  Emily stands directly in my line of sight as if taunting me. After the past few weeks, I wouldn’t blame her. I have acted like an asshole. I teeter between wanting to wrap her lovely legs around me and trying to get as far away from her as I possibly can. I’m starting to think it doesn’t matter. Either way, the mere sight of her tortures me. She is my Dark Lady, my muse.

  “You all right, buddy?” Nicholas asks, eyeing me curiously.

  “I’m fine.”

  “It’s strange, right?”

  “What is?” I ask caught off guard.

  A sliver of anxiety crawls its way into my throat as Nicholas looks at me with a curious gaze. I’ve often wondered if he could see right through my act. I’m not even sure what I could say to Nicholas if he ever found out about me sleeping with his little sister.

  “It’s strange seeing guys flirt with Emily. I sure as hell don’t want to see anyone messing with my sister. I still see her as the sweet little brat who always wanted to hang out with us.”

  “Yeah,” I swallow my lie.

  What Nicholas doesn’t know won’t hurt him, right? Fuck, he would murder me if he knew the sordid past between us.

  I force myself to look away, but it isn’t long before my eyes trail back to Emily. A pang hits me in the chest as I watch the bartender slip Emily a piece of paper. I can only assume it has his number on it. If he thinks he’s leaving with her tonight, he’s dead wrong. There’s no way I’m letting that happen. I may not be able to have Emily, but this guy isn’t getting anywhere near her. Plus, she has a boyfriend, but not a very good one because he isn’t even here.

  “I guess you must not like Augie?” I ask.

  Nicholas turns to me with a surprised look before bursting into laughter.

  “Augustine? The guy you met the other night?”

  I watch Nicholas wipe away the tears from his eyes.

  “Am I missing somet
hing?” I ask annoyed.

  “Let’s just say that Augie is more likely to hit on me or you.”

  “What?”

  That little brat. She played me for a fool. My fingers itch to bend her over my knee and spank the living hell out of her for lying to me. She’s far too smart for her own good.

  “Why would you ever think that?” Nicholas pries.

  “No reason,” I chuckle, shaking my head. “It’s a misunderstanding.”

  “So what’s going on with your art?” Nicholas asks, pulling my thoughts back.

  “Business is good. I have several repeat customers, and I’m booked throughout this next year. “I’m actually donating one of my paintings for a silent auction at a Black Tie event this month. I’m hoping it will bring me some publicity.”

  I’m grateful for the change in topic and the distraction of small talk. For the past four years, my art has been my one consolation and my meal ticket. I’ve been lucky enough to find clients through word of mouth from the Pleasure Chest. Sebastian and Selena are just one of several whom I’ve met over the years, and they’ve been more than kind to me.

  “Wow. A self-made millionaire. Dad should put you in charge of StoneHaven Company.”

  “Nick, why would you say that?” I ask.

  “It’s nothing,” he says with a small smile. “So, you’re donating your art? You should be opening your own gallery.”

  It bugs me that he’s changing the subject, but I know in time, he’ll talk to me.

  “One day,” I smile.

  “I’m sure my father would help you. He asks about you a lot.”

  Nicholas’s words both surprise and annoy me. Asking Stefan for money is the last thing I would ever do. I didn’t ask him for money to cremate my mother, so why would I ask for money now? I despise the idea of owing someone anything.

  “Or I could give you the money,” Nicholas says as if reading my thoughts.