Page 81 of Corrupt Me

His fingers drifted to my chin, tipping my head back, and then he kissed me.

I hadn’t intended to answer Tristan’s kiss with such fervor, but once his lips touched mine, reasonable and rational thoughts stopped existing. Hell, the world stopped breathing. Or maybe it was just me. He stole the air from my lungs.

I caved, sinking into him…into the kiss.

My arms snaked around his neck as his hands landed on my waist, tugging me against him. Hungry didn’t do Tristan’s lips justice. He kissed me like a man who had been deprived for months, seeking, demanding, and exploring my mouth, his tongue dancing softly with mine.

His fingers moved to my hair, pulling out the scrunchie and sending my blonde strands tumbling down my back. “I love this fucking hair,” he rasped in a voice that taunted my dreams.

The cool steel of his lip ring grazed the corner of my mouth. How the hell did I find myself once again in Tristan’s arms completely at his mercy and willing to give him anything he asked for if only he kept kissing me?

I lifted higher on my toes, taking his lips again. Once was never enough. Not with him. The elevator might have been moving, or perhaps I was floating. I couldn’t tell, and I was too overwhelmed with Tristan to care.

Someone cleared their throat. I sprang apart from Tristan, my eyes colliding with Sam’s. I blinked, grasping my bearings, but it took more than a few seconds to remember where I was and how I got here.

She had her arms folded, a knowing smirk on her lips.

“This isn’t what it looks like,” I grumbled, stepping out of the elevator and brushing past my friend. I didn’t look to see if Tristan followed. I didn’t have to. Not when I sensed his presence on my heels like a cool shadow. I could still feel his lips on mine. They tingled from his kiss.

“It never is with the two of you,” she called after me. “We’re going to talk later.”

I turned around and nearly planted my nose into Tristan’s chest. Huffing, I glanced around the man and saw the elevator doors close with my best friend inside.

I straightened and glanced up, confusion ribboning within me. “What are we doing?”

His eyes still tinged with desire studied my face. A shiver pranced along the back of my neck. “Ever, I—” His entire body stiffened as his head angled to the side like he heard something and was listening.

“Tristan,” I hissed. I opened my mouth to ask him what was wrong, but his finger pressed to my lips, silencing me.

He shook his head, his fingers weaving through mine. Before I had the chance to feel anything, Tristan yanked me to the nearest room. Sam’s. I saw a flash of a key card, and then the lock clicked open, and we were inside. He softly pressed the door closed so it barely made any sound.

Not a muscle moved as he glowered at the door, waiting for what? Or who might be the better question. His fingers tightened in mine, and I was afraid to breathe. Seconds passed, and the demand for answers sat on the tip of my tongue when I heard it.

Footsteps.

They were coming down the hall. Heavy boots if I had to guess.

Tristan backed away from the door, his eyes capturing mine. They narrowed, and I got the message.Don’t make a sound.

Who was in the hallway? Why were we hiding? And why did Tristan look worried?

He rarely wore the face he did now, and seeing his expression made my arms prickle with uneasiness. My heart pounded in my ears, and I moved closer to Tristan. His arm came around me, keeping me close to his chest. I didn’t move again until I felt the tension leave his body.

Whoever had been in the hall had left.

I gave myself a few moments with the warmth of his body pressing into mine. When I took a breath this time, I filled my lungs and expelled the air long and slowly. I backed out of hisprotective embrace, running my hands up and down my arms. “Who was that?”

The corners of his mouth hardened as did the depths of his eyes. “Someone you never want to meet.”

A rush of unknowns sprinted through my mind, and I unleashed the ones that stuck out upon Tristan. “How did they get in the building? And how the fuck do you have a key to Sam’s room?” I badgered.

He remained unphased by my observations. “I also have a key to your place if it makes you feel better.”

“Trust me. It doesn’t. Why didn’t we go there or to your room?”

He went to the door and opened it, peeking into the hall. “Because those are the first places they would look.”

“Who?” I asked, creeping up behind him.

---