“You didn’t know?”
“No. What exactly did he say?”
“Ele, stop deflecting. Talk to me.”
She closed her eyes to break the link between them. “I want to be here with you. While we can be together, I want to do that.” She blinked.
“So, just a shag?”
Ele’s face reddened. It sounded so ordinary, and perhaps it was. Maybe, for once in her life, she could experience something normal. She nodded in agreement. Just a shag. Except …
“But maybe not singular,” she qualified.
Tristan laughed, and the tension between them fell away. “No, definitely not singular. Maybe not even singular tonight.” He winked at her. Standing, he held out his hand. “Well then, let’s get to it.”
She reached out to take his hand, but she couldn’t stop the widening of her eyes or the bottoming out in her belly. Her cheeks heated with chagrin, certainly, and maybe excitement. Then, Tristan burst out laughing, and she found herself fighting a shy smile.
“I’m kidding, E. Come on then. I’m starved.”
She put her hand in his, and he gently pulled her up. With his free hand, he traced the opening of her dress, the interrupted wardrobe change. The touch of his finger on her skin sent a delicious tingle through her. He lingered for a brief second, Ele’s body responding at the slightest provocation. Then, he drew away, allowing space to creep in between them.
They ambled toward the kitchen.
“Our chef made dinner. Do you not have a certain diet to follow?” she asked, trying to focus on anything other than what was to come.
“Aye. I had my recovery shake. I know what my body needs to replenish after a game. Is there some protocol we have to follow to eat?”
She nodded.
“I figured. What are my options then?”
“Robert will get it, if that’s okay.”
Tristan nodded, and Ele walked to the door, rapping on it once. Robert opened it and stepped inside.
“Can you get us dinner?”
“It’s on its way.”
Ele returned to the living area, and Tristan followed. She considered sitting in the chair, to ensure distance, but beelined for the sofa instead. Tristan did not disappoint as he sat in the corner of the couch. He swung his leg behind her and pulled her into the cradle of his thighs. She stiffened until her back hit his chest, and he wrapped his arm around her waist. When his thumb caressed her, she relaxed, practically melting into him. His nose nudged her nape, and then his lips landed at the base of her skull and ran along the length of her neck. Her whole body tuned into him—her toes curled, her thighs quivered, her lungs stuttered, her fingers tightened, her eyes fluttered, her lips parted.
Then, he began to talk, and everything heated.
“This dress, so sexy.” He inhaled and then moved to below her ear and pulled in another deep breath. “Your scent. I bet I could identify you in a stadium of thousands just by the smell of your skin.”
Ele fought to breathe evenly, but with the quivering of her stomach and the warmth of his body surrounding her, thinking became difficult. Tristan found her ear and gently bit down on the lobe, and Ele moaned. He chuckled, the sound of it skittering across her throat.
“That’s it,” he teased, dropping open-mouthed kisses on her neck. “What happens to that posh accent of yours when I make you scream?”
She shuddered and maybe moaned again. She couldn’t keep up with the sensations coasting through her, the way she reacted to every movement he made, ev
ery word he uttered. His hand gripped her chin and turned her head. Then, his mouth was on hers. The light teasing of the previous minutes gave way to a devouring kiss, as if he’d worked himself up as much as he affected her. His tongue licked at the seam of her mouth, and when she opened, he dived in, ravaging her. She wanted to turn, to wrap her arms and legs around him, but he held her in place, one arm wrapped around her body, the other holding her head exactly where he wanted it.
She had no notion of the length of the kiss, but when an insistent knock sounded, Tristan ended it. He pulled away, and in a move she couldn’t begin to understand, he was over the back of the couch, headed for the door. Ele swung her feet to the floor and leaned back, letting her head drop. Robert preceded a waiter with a cart of food. Ele knew she looked like she’d been kissed, but Robert’s expression was as composed as ever. She joined Tristan when the door closed, but he was already lifting the silver lids from the plates and inspecting the food.
“This looks amazing,” he remarked as she sat.
“I’m sure you are famished,” she said. Then, remembering his whispered words about her accent and her screaming, she blushed.