Page 14 of Muffin Top
He slung an arm over my shoulder, walking me out. He kept it there as I set the alarm and locked the door. He still had that arm wrapped around me as we got to his car and opened the door for me. I moved to get in, but he stopped me.
"Wait," his hands came up, framing my face.
"What?" I raised a hand. "Do I have something on my face?"
"No, baby." Tristan leaned in. "I just need to taste you first."
Our first kiss was in the dim parking lot of my clinic under the crescent moon. He tasted of coffee and chocolate, and smelt of massage oil, citrus and man. He felt like home.
Chapter Four
Tristan
Touching Honey had been a religious experience. If she were the goddess, I was her loyal subject, willing to worship at her feet for all time.
Did that make me sound like a pussy? Probably. Did I fucking care? Not a god damned iota. My woman was all curves and charisma wrapped in a beautiful loving bow. It might seem fast, but I wanted to put a ring on her finger, a baby in her belly and a hickey on her neck. I wanted to mark her as mine.
How does she feel about tattoos?
I shook off the thought, fighting the darker side of my personality. I'd kept that motherfucker locked down for years. Oh sure, he won occasionally. It wasn't that I didn't want to let him out – I'd heard it all for years. Nice guys finish last. Bad boys get the girls.
I had a feeling Honey wouldn't mind my kind of dark. That she'd taste sweeter after being ordered around.
"I'm the third on the left."
I followed her direction, parking in her driveway and absently scoped the neighborhood. The newer build sat on the edge of town. Not a bad area, mostly filled with people who commuted to the nearest city each day. Professionals looking for cheap housing who spend their weekdays in the city and their weekends partying down at the docks.
I didn't have any issues with the out of towners. They were happy enough to spend money in our town, supporting the local economy. It just sucked that their presence was driving up the cost of living. I'd moved back and invested a large chunk of my savings in buying a home. I knew I wasn't leaving now I was back, not with Mom still desperate for assistance and my brother only just off to college.
Ten years separated me and Wolf. I loved my brother, a good son, awesome brother, a great friend but, I had to admit, a lousy boyfriend. I'd heard all about the trail of broken hearts he'd left behind.
Shaking off all thoughts of my brother, we exited the car and Honey paused at her door, a little frown marring her brow.
"Look, it's a little intense inside. Just… don’t judge." She worried her bottom lip.
"What, you leave your laundry out?" I joked, resting a hand on her lower back.
"Not quite."
She pushed open the door to reveal what I can only describe as a Harry Potter-themed fantasy house. A larger and more detailed version of Honey’s new window display.
Leaves and branches, lights and costumes decorated every wall, surface and floor. Her hall had envelopes strung from the ceiling, an electronic owl carrying a message flapped his little wings in the middle of the display.
As she led me through the house, music kicked in, playing softly in the background. In her living room, two broomsticks circled the floor.
"Roomba's," Honey admitted with a flush. "I may have gone overboard this year. Pinterest is a dangerous site for me."
I wasn’t even sure how to describe this level of creativity, still trying to take everything in.
"I shouldn't have brought you here." She wrung her hands together, looking suddenly nervous. "I'm sorry. I know it's too much. It's just-"
"You," I interrupted her. I placed a hand on her elbow, gently drawing her into me. "This is you. You're over-the-top, loud, creative, beautiful." I pressed a kiss to her forehead, and another to her cheek. "Babe, this is incredible. It doesn't scare me. It's not too much. It's you. It's perfect."
Her eyes shimmered with unshed tears.
"Hey," I brushed at her cheek with my thumb. "Why are you crying?"
She sniffed, shaking her head. "I just… I always thought I'd have to compromise. That no one could lov- I mean, like my whirlwind."
