“Okay,” he soothed as his hand ran circles up and down my back. Diva jumped up on my leg and nudged her head against my hand.
“Hey, honey,” I murmured and stroked her soft fur. She purred and began digging her nails into Tristan’s thigh in appreciation.
“Ow.” His brow furrowed in the most adorable way. He tried to nudge her away, but she wouldn’t hear it. She’d found a new best friend in Tristan. He spent most of his time with Charlie—he was a dog person through and through—but he never turned down my high maintenance baby girl when she came calling after his affections.
“Be nice.” I lifted her into my arms and nuzzled my nose into the soft fur at her neck. I inhaled and stroked her as she purred. I closed my eyes and tried to stay in the moment. Tried to stop thinking about going back to DC and standing before the parole board, reliving my experience one terrible night sixteen years ago when my parents were murdered, because that was what it would be like. If there was ever anything I needed to put in my past, it was this. It was so easy for me to fall back into it again. I needed to guard my heart before the emotion and pain took over.
In the present, I was sitting on the lap of my gorgeous, open-hearted boyfriend, who wanted nothing more than the best for me. I sat Diva on the couch next to us and turned to him.
“Thanks,” I whispered as I tucked my head into his neck. I inhaled his intoxicating scent and sighed. My lips worked across the soft skin in the hollow where his neck met his shoulder.
“For what?” he asked. His voice had dropped an octave, his palms on my back rubbing a little rougher, his heart thudding a little quicker.
“For being here, with me.” I wrapped my arms around his neck and tangled my fingers into the hair at his nape.
“Only place I want to be.” He pushed his hands into my hair and pulled my head away to gaze into my eyes. “You know that, right?” He dipped his head to lock me with his searing green eyes.
“Yes,” I whispered and angled into his lips, taking his mouth with mine in a slow kiss. I explored his lips, savored the taste of him, the feel of his soft flesh against my own. I caressed his cheekbone with my thumb and committed his beautiful face to muscle memory. I feared that there was a tough road ahead for me and I wanted to call on these moments with him to get me through.
“I . . . Tristan, I . . .” I murmured against his lips, unable to finish my thought.
“Go on.” He quirked one beautiful eyebrow at me with a lopsided grin. He knew what I was thinking and he was teasing me. The bastard was teasing me just when I was feeling the most vulnerable.
“You’re a shit.” I pushed against his shoulder.
“I’m your shit.” His grin widened for a moment before he pulled me back to him and captured my lips with his. His kiss was rougher, needier, and I loved it.
“I love us.” I pulled away and locked his eyes with mine. “I just want you to know I really love what we have.” I worked my thumbs along the contours of his face. It was the best I could give him at the moment.
He stared back at me for a few breathless moments. He looked like he was warring with something. “I know,” he finally said.
“Good.” I pressed a kiss to his lips. The lips I relished in, savored and devoured in equal parts. He kissed me back, exploring my mouth with his tongue, his hands running up the inside of my sweater to settle just beneath my breasts. I couldn’t get enough of him. I wanted to eat him. Discover every inch of his body with my tongue. Starting with those pouty, sculpted lips that I couldn’t get enough of.
I moaned and arched into him just before my phone rang out.
“Shit, I bet that’s Drew.” I pulled away from his lips.
“Let it go.” He tried to reattach his lips to mine.
“She’ll keep calling. There’s no escaping her.” I lifted off his lap.
A tortured groan escaped his throat. He flung his head back on the couch, his eyes squeezed shut. He looked utterly adorable.
“Save it for later because I want these—” I traced my thumb along the outline of his lips. “—all over my body tonight.”
“Christ.” Another groan as he scrubbed his hands over his face and into his too long hair. “You love to torture me.”
“It isn’t hard to do.” I winked at him as I walked to grab my phone.
“Vixen,” Tristan growled before not so obliviously readjusting the tent in his jeans.
15
She was a fucking vixen and she knew it. She loved torturing me, and I loved it. The only thing I loved more than her torturing me about being inside her was actually being inside her.
I was a masochist, without a doubt. At least when it came to Georgia.
I heaved a sigh and stood to try and walk off the excess energy. Charlie jumped up and gave his tail a wag.
“Outside, boy?” I gave him a scratch before opening the French doors to let him out. He ambled down the steps and turned the corner of the house. I walked back to the TV and turned it off, meaning to step outside to keep an eye on Charlie, until I heard Georgia’s voice.
She sounded sad and forlorn and I instantly knew why.
She was talking to Drew about the letter. Telling her what it meant. Her fears about reliving the past and that night when two strangers had broken into her house and robbed and murdered her parents, all while a twelve-year-old Georgia hid under her bed.
I clenched my jaw when I heard Kyle’s name. Why the fuck had Kyle been brought up?
Dammit, I loved living on the beach just as much as the next guy, but the constant roar of the waves made eavesdropping pretty fucking difficult. I found myself taking a step down the hallway with the intention of hearing better before I caught myself.
I couldn’t listen to this. This was a private conversation, and it hurt like hell that she was opening up to Drew and not to me, but I understood it. She’d hunkered off to our bedroom for a reason; she’d wanted privacy.
I ran a hand through my hair and gave a rough yank before turning around and heading out the door to keep an eye on Charlie.
I ran my hands along the wood grain of the deck railing and let my thoughts run wild. I didn’t know if Georgia would go back and make an appearance for the hearing, but if she did, she would be back in DC, and back with Kyle; the one person she’d always relied on to get her through this shit when it came up.
It’d been sixteen years, would she still fall into old habits? I had no doubt that Kyle would try and convince her to stay with him and use every manipulative tool at his disposal. While I certainly wanted to fight for her—she was worth it to me, she was worth everything—it was against my grain to fight for someone. If she didn’t want to be with me, I wasn’t going to lower myself so far as to beg her to stay. If Georgia was going to fall back into her old life, then so be it.
That thought terrified me more than anything else, but I knew it would be hard for her to stay. Every fucking day, I saw it on her face. The battle she waged between her old life and our new one. I held my breath every time her phone rang. Gritted my teeth when I saw Kyle’s name flash across the screen. Deep fucking down in my pain- ravaged heart, I was afraid this time would be the time he finally convinced her to go back, because deep fucking down I didn’t have faith she would stay.
I didn’t have faith she would break the mold for me, and I knew I wasn’t fucking worth it—knew my past was colored with poor decisions. That was a real kick to the gut; I didn't deserve her. I’d done so much I now regretted, I couldn’t be surprised when she finally came to her senses and walked away.
I ran another angry hand through my hair and called for Charlie. I needed a beer and to plop myself in front of some mindless TV show to get this endless cycle of negative thinking off my mind. Or maybe do some work. Gavin and I had a big account that needed some attention. The CEO was a bastard who wanted his hand held
