'toys.'
One side of the garage housed a speed boat, a Waverunner and other water sports equipment. On the other side, besides the two motorcycles, were a big, metallic-blue pick-up truck, a shiny black Mercedes convertible and a hot red Ferrari Spider—which I only knew after caressing my hand over the shiny emblem.
'You don't even use these…do you?' I'd never seen them before.
'Not so much. I prefer feeling the freedom on the bikes. But when I want them, they're right here waiting. And they're nice to look at.' He'd come up behind me and put his arms around me, pulling me close to him. He murmured in my ear, 'Almost as nice as you.'
Heat rose to my face…in both embarrassment and excitement at his breath on my ear. He brushed his lips down my neck. Goosebumps rose on my arms. Then he took my hand and led me upstairs to the rest of the house.
From the stairs, we came into a large, open room with floor-to-ceiling windows on the opposite wall, overlooking the Gulf of Mexico. Low sunlight streamed through the windows. The decor was sparse, looking more like the lobby of a business than a home. There was a sitting area in the east half, at the top of the stairs, that included glass end tables, a boxy, black-leather couch and loveseat sitting on a white, shaggy rug. Various paintings hung on the walls and an easel with a half-finished image stood at the window-wall. Long tables displaying what looked like doll houses edged the western half of the room.
Tristan picked up an electronic gadget from one of the tables and when he touched the front of it, the screen glowed. He touched it several more times and some lights came on in the house and music started playing through speakers in the ceilings.
'Another toy?' I asked with a raised eyebrow. He just grinned.
'Come on, I'll show you around before I start dinner,' he said, taking my hand again and leading me down a hallway off the living room.
The first room was an office with a large, chrome-and-glass desk, three computer screens and two walls lined with glass shelves full of books. Calendars and various charts hung on a third wall and the fourth wall was windows, facing the Gulf. An oversized, white suede chair with fat cushions and an ottoman squatted in front of the windows. I imagined curling up in the chair with a book, reading until I fell asleep.
'This is where I spend the majority of my time when I'm not with you,' Tristan said and then he led me to another room, across the hall. 'And this is where I am the rest of the time…unless I'm at the big gym.'
It was a home gym, complete with weight machines. A large, thin mat covered half the floor, where various sized punching bags hung from the ceiling along one edge of it. The walls were bare, except for one picture. I took a couple steps closer to it and realized it was a beautifully hand-drawn picture of me, framed and matted.
'Tristan?' I asked, not able to pull my eyes away to look at him.
'It's a reminder of why I need to improve my self control,' he explained quietly.
' You drew it?' I looked at him with awe.
He smiled sheepishly. 'I started with a sketch when we were studying…well, you were studying. It was shortly after we met.'
'Wow…I never knew,' I breathed, not realizing the extent of his talent. I'd seen the cartoons he'd drawn during class, of course, and still had one tacked to my bulletin board above my desk. But this was no cartoon. He'd captured my expression perfectly in the photo-like drawing. 'You're so talented.'
'It's easier when I have a beautiful subject,' he said with a grin. I snorted.
Also off the hallway were a bathroom, a laundry room and a closet housing all kinds of baffling electronics. He explained it was the control room for the system that automated the lights, music and hurricane shutters. One of the tall, black cabinets held a CD-changer with hundreds of CDs in it. I just shook my head, at a loss of words for such…indulgence.
He then took me upstairs to the top level, which was nothing but a large master-suite loft looking over the living room. A huge—had to be bigger than a king size—platform bed faced the western wall of windows. I eyed the bed, with its black, satiny comforter and many pillows.
'You really need this big of a bed?' I teased.
'I actually hardly ever sleep in it anymore. It feels too big and empty. I prefer the chair in the office these days. But…I think it has potential.' He raised his eyebrows and grinned mischievously. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach. 'Maybe we'll find out…some time. Right now, I need to start dinner.'
He quickly showed me the master bath and I imagined the potential in there, too, with the big Jacuzzi tub and a shower the size of my bedroom. Back downstairs, he led me into the most amazing, dream kitchen. The decor was a little cold for my style—mostly concrete, stainless steel and glass. There were tons of cabinets and immense counter space, though, including an island in the middle and a bar at the western end.
'Tristan, you've been holding out on me!' I slid my hands along the smooth countertops and gazed at the six-burner stove. 'This looks like so much more fun than Mom's tiny kitchen. We wouldn't be bumping into each other all the time.'
He grinned. 'I thought you might like it.'
We cooked together, while listening to music and drinking wine. He usually played the role of prep-chef and I did the main cooking. While his slices and dices were precise, I was good at mixing, stirring and adding ingredients to give it the right flavor. We traded roles tonight and the linguine with clam sauce and a side salad tasted delicious.
After cleaning up, he poured us some more wine and played with his little toy to change the music while I took a closer look at the houses—they were actually architectural models, complete with landscaping. Each was in a different style and in a different setting. I leaned over to study the intricate details he'd added to each one.
'I showed you mine. Will you show me yours?' Tristan said from behind me. I whirled in shock. He laughed at my expression. 'You've seen my creations, now. When do I get to see yours?'
Oh, my book . I circumvented the question by taking my glass from him, draining the wine and rerouting the conversation to the models.
'These are truly incredible. They must have taken you forever.'
He shrugged. 'I've done these since I moved here last summer. I'm still trying to figure out my dream home, I guess. I can't decide which one I like best.'
'Why don't you just build all three, then you don't have to choose?' I giggled, thinking it may not be so unrealistic for him.
He laughed. 'I've seriously thought about that. But…well, I'm waiting to get some input from the person I'll be sharing them with some day.'
He smiled seductively. Butterflies fluttered again and my head went fuzzy. I never drank more than one glass of wine with Mom, so it didn't take much. And, of course, Tristan had that effect on me all by himself, especially like now, when he walked up to me, put his hands on my shoulders and gazed into my eyes, the gold in his sparkling brightly. He leaned over and kissed my jaw, his hands gliding down my back.
'So what do you think?' he murmured.
I couldn't answer immediately, his touch electrically stimulating my body, then finally, I giggled. 'I think I'm in no frame of mind to be thinking.'
I put my arms around his neck and had to concentrate to keep his face in focus. I smiled, closed my eyes ( that feels better ) and tilted my face up for a kiss. He didn't deliver. I opened my eyes reluctantly and he stared at me with a funny expression. I thought it was concern, but didn't know why.
'What's the matter?' I asked, but it came out more like, 'Wass da madder.'
'Alexis, are you drunk?'
I giggled. 'No, I don't think so. I have a really good buzz, though.'
I sagged against him, still holding onto his neck. I kissed his chest through his shirt.
'Yeah…I think you're drunk. I better take you home.'
'No! I don' wunna go home.' I pulled myself up against him and kissed his neck and then put effort into speaking correctly. 'I want to stay here with you. Be with you…maybe in that nice big bed upstairs?'
'Yeah, uh, I don't think so. I'm taking you home.'
'Tristan, please?' I breathed. I pressed my body against his, pulling his head down closer and nuzzling my face against his neck. Then I stood on my toes and slid my lips along his jaw and, just as I reached his mouth, I lost my balance and would have fallen over if he hadn't been holding me.
