2X The Heat (2X The Pleasure 1)

A couple walked past us. We were too public, I was thinking of her reputation first. She was too angry to notice, but I did and I am not that much of an asshole.

“Come here.”

I did not wait for her to agree, I took her slender wrist in my hand and pulled her to the first private place I saw. A secluded room with a thick screen door. No one could see us. Once inside, I turned to face her she was still fuming.

“Look, Emilia, I don’t know what you think is going on here, but I’m not engaged.” I said with a simple, even tone. I thought it would convince her but, I guessed wrong.

“You’re a really good liar. Honestly, I just feel bad for your fiancé.”

I furrowed my brow and pinched the bridge of my nose like an old man. It wasn’t until I let out a heavy sigh that I could speak calmly again.

“I’m not engaged. My best friend is. He’s a lawyer and he doesn’t have time to do all this. I’m the best man and he asked for my help.”

“You said ‘the bride and I’ in your voicemail.” She interrupted my train.

“Yeah, but not my bride. Gabriella isn’t my type.” A nervous laugh escaped me.

“Oh yeah? What is?” She crossed her arms, making her breasts push against her collarbone, creating a swell I just wanted to run my lips across. I actively tried not to lick my lips.

“Strawberry blonde and sassy.” I smirked. Her eyes widened, her expression

softened. She looked like my baby doll again.

I stepped towards her cautiously, not sure if she had a real temper or not. It could go either way. But when I was inches apart from her, so close I felt the heat of her body and the sharp inhale of her breath, she hadn’t moved. I let my eyes do the talking as I went from her eyes to her full lips, slowly parting with each hot, passing second. And farther, to where her arms tugged the collar of her shirt down to reveal that creamy swell. I found her eyes again as I pried her arms from her chest. My fingers trailed a slow, heated trail down to her elbows until I gripped her waist, pulling her closer. Closer.

“I forgot your name.” She whispered, her voice like a bell in the wind. It made me smile. She makes me smile way too damn easy.

“Tristan. Tristan Cox.” Her eyes caught mine as she fleeted.

“That sounds familiar…” she thought aloud.

I was glad she could not place it. Usually, everyone does—well, every woman does and it just fucks everything up in my head. But she did not know for sure. She wasn’t using me. Yet. My conscience is a real dick.

“Does billionaire tech engineer ring a bell?”

She looked up at me, eyes wide and curious, but not recognizing at all. “No.” She replied.

“You want to talk about my job or you want me to kiss you?” My widened.

She answered by pressing her body to mine and searing her fingers through my hair. I inhaled her sweet, lilac scent before I closed the space and kissed her. It was like going back in time, to four weeks ago where I was the most relaxed I had ever been in a long time. It felt so familiar, so good, and so right—to have her lips on mine. Her body on mine, her breast swelling to my chest. She was so fucking soft and warm, the most comforting woman I ever had beneath my palms. I coaxed her lips apart, her lips gladly parted and accepted my tongue, moving with hers so furiously my cock ached.

I backed her up until we both thudded against the wall, pots of flowers rattled around us but nothing fell. Even if it had, I wouldn’t have cared. Her knee inched up my leg, rubbing against the outside of my thigh. I took her wrist and pinned them above her head, keeping her completely at my mercy.

Our lips were a wet, heated mess. The air filled with our sharp gasps of breath because neither of us wanted to stop to breathe. I nudged my thigh between her legs, pressing up on her sex. The heat seared right through my jeans and she moaned against my mouth, bucking her hips toward mine and deepening the kiss. I bit her bottom lip ever so softly, rising a small whimper out of her. I needed to be inside her. I needed to hear her scream.

I used my other hand to inch up her shirt, feeling the smooth skin of her stomach. I never got to the last time. She was fleshy, unlike the other woman I had been with. I could grab her hips, her waist, and everything else on the way to those pert breasts. They fit perfectly in my palm, I grazed against her nipple and her breath quickened, breaking the kiss. I let my mouth go to her neck, suckling her skin, inhaling her scent. She was fucking edible. And perfect.

Damnit, I wanted her to be mine.

Chapter Eighteen: Emilia

I felt stupid and embarrassed all at the same time. I was mostly infuriated with myself by the time he had me up against that wall.

Tristan.

My body had never reacted like this to anyone. Wanted someone so much that my panties were soaked just because their mouth was on mine, my body pressed to his. I used to think my boobs were too small, I went through a phase of stuffing my bra back in high school. I remained an A cup until college, and I am only a B cup around my period. But he made them feel perfect; I never wanted him to let go. When his palm closed around me, warm and calloused, it feels safe. I have never wanted to be touched that way. Owned. Taken.

Tristan.