Page 64 of Whiskey Kisses

“I’m here,” he says, not quite answering my question but relieving the ache anyway. It’s pitiful, how little I require from him.

My hand falls away as he rolls on top of me and kisses his way down my throat, the scruff from his beard scratching deliciously at my skin. He lifts the t-shirt I’m wearing and draws my nipple into his mouth, suckling indulgently until it’s puffy and ultra-sensitive. When he starts to go to the other one, I bring him back to the first, and he obeys, smiling wickedly around my nipple, his gaze a flash of green in the dim light. He massages my other breast instead, rolling the nipple between his fingers. The dual sensations send warm surges through my body, each one stronger than the last.I’m so close, so close. I hold his head in my hands, tunneling my fingers through his hair, and then I’m coming, my body arching off the bed in one long gasp.

“That might be the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen,” Tristan says, nibbling and licking at my other breast. “Can you do it again?”

“I don’t know,” I whisper, watching him lick my second nipple into a stiff peak.

“Let’s find out.”

I didn’t think I could come again, not like that and not so fast, but a couple of minutes later, I do. I’m so wet now that my thighs are slick.

“Fuck,” he grits out, his lips as pink and swollen as my nipples. “What else are you hiding from me, Evie Knievel?”

“I could ask you the same question,” I whimper, my knees tight around his hips.

“I’ll tell you anything you want to know,” he says, his voice husky with need as he kicks his pants off.

“That’s your dick talking,” I laugh breathlessly.

“I’ll tell you one thing,” he says, rubbing his tip around my entrance, getting himself wet with me. “I love making you come for me. I love how you sound.”

“That’s two things.” We kiss, a desperate clash of tongues and teeth as he rocks against me, rubbing himself up and down my pussy without ever going in. “I want you to fuck me,” I beg. “Just like this.”

“Just like this?” he echoes, pausing at the next pass and pressing, just like he did last night.

“Yes.” I bring his face back down, kissing him as I tilt my hips up.

“Gladly,” he groans, sinking into me.

It hurts a little, but mostly it feels like heaven, the pleasure only sweetened by the pain, and I cry out. Sliding his fingers through mine, Tristan pins my hands on either side of me and starts to move.

“I saw Cole today,”he whispers in the dark. His body is wrapped around mine, one large hand splayed over my stomach.

Tensing, I reach back to touch his hair. I’ve always loved his hair. I told him I fantasized about kissing him, but I also used to wonder what it would feel like to run my fingers through these curls. “Where?”

“His family’s restaurant,” he says casually. “I was at a hardware store in town, so I stopped by afterward.”

I know just the store he’s talking about, tiny and family-run. “But why would you go to a store all the way over there when there are closer ones?”

“Because it’s far away from here,” he says.

My throat feels dry suddenly, and I swallow roughly, wishing I’d brought a glass of water to bed. “Do you think he knows about this house, too?”

“No, and I want to keep it that way.” His breath ruffles my hair. “Anyway, Cole’s obviously been watching me. Figured I might as well pay him a visit this time, save him a trip.”

I try to turn so I can face Tristan, but his grip tightens, holding me still. “What did y’all talk about?”

“What do you think? He’s trying to figure me out, see why I’m still down here. His people do business with your dad, and I’ve been doing business with your dad,” he says with a dark chuckle. “And then, of course, there’s you.”

I tap the hand wrapped around me. “What about me?”

“He was trying to get a rise out of me, talking shit,” he says quietly, nudging his nose along my neck. “About how he was your first.”

A slightly sick feeling comes over me, and now I’m glad I can’t see Tristan’s face. I’ve never felt bad about past relationships and hook-ups, but Cole is the exception of all exceptions. I was a different version ofmyself when I went out with him, and while I generally chalk up my bad judgment to youth and inexperience, I hate that he knows me so intimately. It feels like he uses it against me, like an unspoken threat whenever I see him.

Guess it’s not so unspoken now though, if he’s saying things to Tristan.

“Yeah?” I question, trying to keep my voice steady despite the pit of unease forming in my stomach.

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