I pump some liquid body wash into my hands and begin to wash away the traces of dirt. While taking a breath, I see the curtain move to the side and Tristan is standing in front of me, completely naked. I’ve seen him like this so many times now, but his hard, toned, sexy, tanned body, never ceases to amaze me.
He climbs in and uses my hips to turn me around so that my back, is to his front, and begins kissing down my shoulders. I reach my hands up behind his neck, keeping him there, keeping his lips on my bare skin and I feel him run his hands up and over my stomach until he reaches my breasts. He cups them and begins running his fingers over my rock-hard nipples causing my chest to heave with pleasure. I let go of his neck, and I grab his girth. “Shit,” he whispers in my ear. As I move my hand along his length, I can feel his body move with it.
My eyes close when his lips begin tasting my neck, but then suddenly, he turns me so we're face to face, and he then pushes me until my back is against the tiled wall. Immediately, his lips and tongue are on mine, and I moan into his mouth wanting more of him. His lips leave mine, and he runs them down my neck and chest until he reaches my nipple. And when he does, my core begins to throb with need. But when I feel his mouth close over the nub, replacing his fingers, my body pushes into his.
As he continues circling his tongue over my nipple, I feel his fingers move down, down until he hits the sweet spot, I gasp, and my eyes drift shut. I swear to god, Tristan should teach a class in this shit. He knows exactly what to do, and when to do it. And if he did teach a class, I know there would be a lot, of very, very happy women in the world. He really should write a book on it, at the very least.
His fingers are magic. I take his face in my hands and bring his lips to mine. I just want to kiss him, to be close to him. He runs his hands down the back of my thighs, and effortlessly lifts me, and wraps my legs around his waist. My mouth closes over his, tasting him. I keep my hands on his face, feeling his breath. I love him. I love him more than anything, and I want to tell him. I want to say it, I know I never loved anyone as I love him, but before I gain the courage to open up to him, I chicken out. Again.
He reaches down to enter me, and when he does, I gasp into his mouth. “Fuck, yes,” I moan.
He moves in and out while the water streams down our naked bodies, moving together, pushing myself into him. The build-up is quick. I have no idea how people can have sex for hours. Do their partners not turn them on? Do they need hours of foreplay, just so that they can bear to have sex with them? I don’t get it, at all. Tristan just has to walk in the room, and I'm as wet as a fucking waterslide in the summer.
My legs tighten around him more as he pushes further into me. His head rests on my shoulder, and I can hear his moans. “More,” I beg.
He moves faster, and deeper and my head tilts up until it's resting against the tiles, and then it happens, I explode. I scream out
with desire, and my body jumps with the shocks.
When Tristan comes, he moans in my ear, “Fuck, Cass.”
Even after we’ve finished and my feet are firmly planted back on the ground, I still can’t stop kissing him, I can’t stop touching him. Eventually, we manage to pry ourselves away from one another long enough to hop out and put on robes. I hold his hand as we make our way down the staircase, together. “What would you like for dinner?” he asks.
“I'd tell you, but I think you’ll just laugh at me.” I cringe.
“I promise I won’t laugh,” he says as he swings my arm back and forth as if we were kids in a playground.
“All I want is a tub of ice cream, and a big packet of M&M’s poured into it.”
“I should have known.” He laughs. When we reach the bottom of the stairs, he wraps me up in his arms and presses his lips to mine. When he pulls back, he says, “Go and get comfy in the living room, and I’ll bring it in for you.”
I give him another quick kiss, then make my way into the living room and sit with my legs tucked under me on the overstuffed, amazingly comfortable sofa. A few minutes later, Tristan enters the room carrying a tray. On the tray is a huge tub of double choc fudge ice cream, a big bag of M&M’s, a bowl of chopped nuts, and a Hershey’s squeeze bottle of chocolate syrup. “You are going to be thanked in a very, very special way tonight,” I tell him as I take the tray from him.
“I look forward to it,” he smiles as he adds the M&M’s to the ice cream.
As we sit and eat, I notice him staring at me. “What’s the matter?” I ask while my mouth harbors a ton of ice cream mixed with M&M’s.
He shakes his head and smirks. “Nothing, I’m just enjoying the view.” So I lean in and kiss him, full mouth and all. He pulls back and cups my face in his hands and waits for me to swallow before saying, “I love you, Cass.” I close my eyes and smile. When I open them again, he’s there, right in front of me, and my heart is racing.
I place my bowl down on the tray and give him my full attention. “I love you, too.” I kiss him again. “I’ve known for weeks that I love you, but I didn’t want to say it. I didn’t want to risk looking like an idiot.”
He takes my hands in his. “I felt the same way. It's been itching at me for weeks, too. I knew it was love because, with you, it’s different. I realized I never loved anyone else, until you. This is it, baby girl. Our life, our love, our forever,” he whispers, and with that sentence, I’m wet. Again.
My heart fills with stability. Sure, the rest of my life hangs in the balance, but, at least, I know there is one thing I can count on. His love for me. I look up at him, he smiles and comes in to kiss me again. It’s safe to say the ice cream is left to melt in the living room while we make our way up to the bedroom.
We made love for the longest of times, but eventually, we dragged ourselves away from one another. We needed sleep since we were leaving early the next afternoon.
We depart from the house just after one PM. The trip back to Northern Ireland goes far too quickly, and the moment I'm back at Carol and George’s house, I race up the stairs to check on my dad. Even though I’ve called him frequently for updates while away, I still have to see that he’s okay for myself. “You’re back, my love,” Dad says as I walk through his bedroom door.
“Yep, we just got back.” I lean down to kiss him on the cheek.
“You look refreshed.”
“I feel it. It was beautiful, Dad. I would have loved for you to come with us.”
“I’m glad you had a good time, and no, there is no way in hell I would have joined my daughter and her boyfriend for a dirty weekend.” He laughs before placing his hand over mine. “Go and get settled in, I’ll see you at dinner. I’m going to have a quick nap.”
“Okay, Dad. Do you want me to wake you when it’s ready?” I place my other hand over his, so it's sandwiched between mine. I didn’t realize how much I missed him over the past couple of days.
“No need.” He waves me off. “George hired a nurse for me.
She should be back soon. She's been amazing.”
My eyes widen. “Don’t you think that it is a bit too soon to be hiring a nurse?”
I’m not pissed that they hired a nurse, I knew that with the cancer accelerating the way it is, it was only going to be a matter of time. It’s not that I’m upset at the fact they went ahead and hired her. I’m pissed off because no one told me, but there’s no way in hell I'll bitch about it. I know Carol and George only did it in a bid to help take some pressure off me. I have to remember to thank them. I don’t want to look ungrateful, because I sure as hell am.
It’s as if my father can read my mind. “We talked about it beforehand, love. I thought it would be a good idea. I don’t want you constantly worrying about me. There is a lot worse to come. I know you’ve probably Googled what happens in the later stages of cancer, and the fact is, yes, disgusting things are still to come. I won’t have you deal with it. I want you to be my daughter, not my nurse. Is that okay with you?”
I shift on the edge of the bed. “But that’s just it D
ad, I don’t mind at all.” I hold the tears back, and when I do, I give myself a high five on the inside. He doesn’t need to see me cry.
“I know you don’t mind, love. I’m the one that wants this. I’m the one needing a trained nurse to do the things a daughter shouldn’t.”
I drop my head and surrender. “Well, if you’re comfortable, then so am I. I’ll see you for dinner?”
“I’ll see you then, love.” He smiles.
I leave the room and walk down the hall to my room where I find Tristan who is already beside the bed, unpacking my case for me. “You don’t have to do that,” I tell him.
I watch as he walks towards me. ‘He is so sexy.’ I think. Without warning, his lips crash onto mine, and once I’m breathless, he pulls back, his eyes on mine. “I love you,” he tells me, pride written across his face.
Since saying it the for the first time, last night, neither of us can stop. “I love you, too.” We’ve become the lovesick couple everyone hates to be around.
“How’s your dad feeling?” he asks with his arms still wrapped around my waist.
“He’s tired, but feeling okay, for the moment.” I then place my hands on the back of his neck.
“That’s good news.” He smiles, but his gaze is still on me, studying me. “You look a little unsettled. What’s wrong?”
I shake my head. “George went ahead and hired Dad, a full-time nurse. I have a feeling they did it more for my benefit than Dad’s. I’m not sure it sits right with me. Don’t get me wrong, I’m more than grateful, and I knew a nurse would have to be called in eventually, but this feels too soon.” I let out a long, deep breath, just hearing the words come out of my mouth makes me feel selfish and ungrateful. “I guess it all makes me feel useless. Like I’m not good enough to care for him, you know?” I know my eyes are tearing up, but I don’t care.
Tristan reaches up and wipes them away with his thumbs, and his eyes bore into mine. “You shouldn’t beat yourself up. You know your family wants nothing but the best for you. They didn’t hire that nurse simply because you weren’t doing your job properly. They did it because they want you to relax with your dad. They don’t want your last memories to be of you having to clean vomit or having to do his injections. George and Carol want to do what they think is best for you.” He presses his lips to mine briefly.
“I know you’re right, but it’s still hard.”
He tightens his hold on me. “Of course, it is. I can’t stand here and tell you everything will be all right because I know it won’t be. The only thing I can promise you is that I'll be here with you every single step of the way. And I will try to help in any way I can.”
I rest my cheek on his chest. “You're being here is all I need.”
I stay there with my face buried in his chest until we hear George’s voice come over the intercom. “Cass, Tristan, I just want to let you know that dinner is ready.” Reluctantly, I let go of him, walk over and press the button. “Thank you, we’ll be right down.”
As we take our seats at the table, George is on us in a heartbeat. “So, you two, how was the dirty weekend?” Tristan and I share a look of surprise. “Oh, it was that good you can’t talk about it,” he continues.
I can’t help but crack up laughing. “Yes, George, it was that good,” I tell him.
“It’s stunning down at your parent’s holiday home, Tristan,” Carol adds. I know what she's doing. She can see that poor Tristan is mortified and she's trying to deflect the whole sex teasing that would no doubt come out of George’s mouth. But it’s in these moments I know for sure that George and I are blood-related.
For Tristan’s sake, I decided to play nice, and jump into the conversation. “It would have to be one of the most beautiful homes I’ve ever seen. I love old architecture, and you can see that there are so many untold stories just sitting there.” I daydream back to the living room and its roaring fireplace until Carol pulls me from my thoughts.
“Is that the kind of home you would like to own one day?” she asks as she picks up her glass of red wine and takes a sip.
I gaze around the table and see that everyone is waiting for me to respond. “Not quite as big, but yes. If it were up to me, I would much prefer an older home as opposed to a new one. New ones feel cold and unloved, and there’s no history, no story.” I shrug.
“I agree,” George adds. “That’s why we didn’t build when we were looking for a house. We’ve had a few minor renovations done, here and there, but other than that, it’s the same as it was when we first moved in. I’d prefer to live in the house that’s out the back, the smaller one Tristan took you to see the night we had the party. The night you two met.” He waves his hand between us. “I could live in there and be very happy.”
“Well then, don’t let me stop you.” Carol laughs. “It would be a nice, quiet break.”
George presses his hands to his heart in mock hurt. “How could you live without me? I’m your world. I know it would kill you to be so close, yet so far, from the love of your life.” He pines.
Tristan and I laugh, but it soon stops when I see my father walk into the dining room, looking worse for wear, and I'm out of my seat in an instant. I take hold of his elbow and help him into his chair. “You okay, Dad?” I whisper. My father is a proud man. I wouldn’t want it to look as if I were babying him in front of the company.
“I’m okay, love. Just tired.” He kisses the back of my hand before I leave to take my seat. “So, what did I miss, anything exciting?” Dad asks as he takes his napkin and places it on his lap.
“You did miss these two avoiding the conversation we were trying to have about their dirty weekend.” George laughs.
I shake my head and chuckle along with him, but when I look over at Tristan, he looks uncomfortable as fuck. I guess it’s because my father is seated at his side. “You poor thing.” I place my hand on his shoulder and squeeze. “Welcome to the family, baby.”
That does get a smile from him. “Can we move the subject to something that isn’t associated with my love life? I’d be eternally grateful,” he begs while the room laughs.
Once dinner is over, I ask my family nicely to take it easy on Tristan because he isn’t used to our family’s antics, as yet. When they agree to play nice, I excuse myself, say goodnight to my dad, and head off to bed. Before leaving, I’d told Tristan that if he wasn’t ready to stop socializing, he didn’t have to follow me up to the room. I didn’t want him to stop having a good laugh for my benefit.
The moment my head hits the pillow, I fall asleep on my side of the bed, but I'm woken when Tristan climbs in, and I open my eyes look over at him.
“Sorry, baby girl. I was trying not to wake you,” he whispers.
“It’s okay.” I move closer and snuggle into him, resting my head on his chest. And within moments, I fall back to sleep to the drumming of his heartbeat against my ear.
When I awaken the next morning, I climb out of bed, careful not to wake Tristan. When I've succeeded, I then throw on a robe and walk down the hall to check on my dad. Slowly, I open the door and see he's still sleeping. Sandy, his nurse, whom George introduced me to, last night, is seated in the corner of the room, reading a book. When she looks up at me, I become slightly jealous. Sandy is twenty-five and because she’s half Indian and half English, her skin is a beautiful caramel color. I’m not ashamed to say that if I were into girls, I would totally give her a go.
She seems like a lovely girl, and I’m beginning to wonder who had the final say when it came to hiring her. I know my dad would have hired a nurse who was attractive over experience any day.
‘Can I talk to you?’ I mouth.
She nods, places her book down on the side table, and makes her way towards me. As she does, I motion for her to follow me out to the hallway, she does, and I carefully close the door behind us. “Hey, Sandy. I just wanted to know how Dad went overnight. Was he okay?”
“He had a very peaceful rest. He managed to sleep through the nigh
t without the aid of morphine. Don’t take my word for it, but in past experience that is a good sign that he may have a good day today.” Her smile is infectious.
“I hope so.” I smile in return. She genuinely seems to care for my father. I don’t know if it's because he has her laughing when he’s awake, or if it’s just her nature. Honestly, I don’t care what it is; I’m grateful. “Go and get yourself a coffee, I can sit with him until you get back.”
“Are you sure, Miss Cassie?” she questions.
“Yes, I’m sure. And it’s just Cassie. We're a very informal family here, so please make yourself comfortable.”
She takes a look up and down the corridor, then leans into me whispering, “Thank you, I have to admit that working for your family, is a breath of fresh air. The snooty people I typically get sent to care for, drive me up the wall.” She giggles to herself.
“I can only imagine.” I chuckle in return. “Now, go and have a break, you look exhausted. I spoke to Carol last night over dinner about having a bed brought in for you so you can rest when Dad does.”
She seems surprised by my words. “No one has ever offered me a bed before. I can’t sleep on the job, Cassie,” she says while shaking her head.
I place my hand on her shoulder for reassurance. “Sandy, as time goes on we’re going to need your expertise more and more because, excuse my language, but we won’t know what the fuck to do. I also did some research while I was away over the weekend concerning coffee enemas. I’ve ordered the equipment, and it should be delivered in the next day or so. I paid for rush delivery, but it’s coming from the States, so who knows if it will be here when they promise it will.” I roll my eyes, already knowing that anything could happen in transit. “Do you think they’re a good idea?” I ask her. I probably should have consulted her first before ordering the items, but I'm desperate to try anything.
She nods her head. “Oh yes, they’re very good for cancer. I’ll start them the minute they arrive. The enemas are a good way to cleanse the toxins out of the body.”
The Beginning Page 17
