Drawn to You: Volume 3 (10 page)

Emily

Tristan.

I wake to find myself alone in the bed and Tristan nowhere in sight. My head throbs at the sunlight that cascades in from the windows on the second floor of his studio. God, I drank too much last night.

Embarrassment overwhelms me as memories of my run-in with the paparazzi fill my thoughts. I couldn’t admit it to myself last night, but I’m so glad he showed up. I slip the bed covers off me to find myself in nothing but my underwear and pink bra. Somehow, Tristan undressed me and slipped me into bed.

My cheeks flame.

I feel strangely disappointed that it didn’t turn into more.

The rest of my clothes from yesterday sit carefully folded in a pile on top of his dresser. I get up to grab them, but to my surprise, my legs are shackled to the bed.

What the hell?

I pull on the metal restraints, but they don’t budge. I’m fixed to several inches of cold steel. I’m dumbfounded as to how I got here. Did I sleep like this all night? I scoot on my bottom and then bend my knees to get a closer look at my restraints. After several minutes of trying to pick them open, I give up. Why the hell would Tristan do this?

One word pops into my mind.

Punishment.

A strange electric excitement filters through me as I lay back on the bed in exhaustion. The smell of Tristan lingers over my skin and to my pleasure, his bed sheets as well. Butterflies fill my stomach at the thought of him watching me from another room. My eyes trace his apartment, but Tristan’s nowhere to be seen. As I scan the nightstand near the bed, I spot a serving tray and a single card sitting on top of it. At a closer glance, I can just make out Tristan’s handwriting...

I told you if I had the chance, I would chain you to my bed. Eat up. You’ll need your strength.

P.S. I took care of the photos.

Oh, thank God.

I can’t help but wonder what Tristan had to do to get the photos from the paparazzo…

I smile as I re-read the note. Shivers run down my spine at the promise in his words.
You’ll need your strength?
My strength for what? An endless amount of possibilities filter through my mind. After last night, I can’t help but feel a shiver of excitement run through me. I set down Tristan’s card and uncover the silver tray next to me.

What’s under here?

I smile at the perfectly crafted omelet that sits at the center of the tray. Even the colors seem to create an artful masterpiece. He cooked for me? I search the nightstand for a fork, but there’s none. My stomach growls at the sight of the omelet. You’d think after a night of drinking, my stomach wouldn’t want anything. I grab the food with my fingers like a small child and then shovel the delicious breakfast into my mouth without a second thought. A moan escapes me as I take in the taste of bell peppers and pepper jack cheese.

This is one of the best omelets I’ve ever had.

Thirty minutes later, I’m staring up at the ceiling of Tristan’s studio singing to myself as I slowly drift back to sleep.

“Good evening, little one.”

My eyes flicker open as a set of hazel eyes looks down at me with a smile. It feels like I haven’t seen Tristan in days, but I know it’s only been a few hours.
Where was he this whole time?
I sit up as he walks over and sits on the side of the bed next to me. I try to move, but the chains around my ankles restrain me from stepping off the bed. Tristan’s eyes look down at my feet and then back at me. He chuckles with vigor.

“What are these for?” I ask annoyed.

“You didn’t read the note?”

“Oh, I read it. I also ate that amazing omelets you left me, but I still don’t understand why you chained me to your bed.”

His gaze darkens with a liquid heat as he grabs my chin and kisses me hard. The taste of mint swirls in his mouth. I open my lips welcoming the taste. He pulls back with an embarrassed look on his face.

“I wanted to make sure you were here when I got back. I couldn’t have you changing your mind about us.”

I laugh as a slow smile erupts from his lips. I’ve never seen Tristan this vulnerable. He always seems so sure of himself.

“You didn’t even leave me a fork to eat with,” I say, hoping to lighten the mood.

“Forks are earned.”

He moves, placing his hands on the bed as he leans toward me. I inch back letting him hover over me with his delicious frame. It’s only been a few hours, but I’m already needy to be his again. Tristan grabs my wrist and places it over his heart. Beneath all the muscle, it beats in a chaotic rhythm. He leans in and presses his lips to mine. A surge of confidence shoots through me as I tease his lips with my tongue. It only takes a second for Tristan to match my force. He grinds against me as we meld further into the bed. Tristan breaks the kiss and hovers above me watching me with a renewed intensity. His eyes darken as he trails one hand between my breasts and down my pelvis. I arch as his fingers slip over my sex. My thoughts escape me as they concentrate on Tristan’s fingers. He sends me in a tizzy as he pinches my clit.

“You’re getting wet just thinking about me, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” I shiver.

His eyes glow with a honey glaze that only seems to intensify his stare. I could melt in those eyes. Wrap myself within them and never look back.

“Do you think about me when you touch yourself?”

My cheeks flame at the bluntness of his question. I can’t lie to him. Somehow, I’m convinced he’d know.

“I think about you all the time.”

Having sex with Tristan has been one of my recurring fantasies. It always started the same. I’m in my old bedroom, and I can hear him fucking another woman downstairs, but when I get to his room, he’s waiting for me, alone. The other woman is gone, or perhaps she never existed. Instead, it’s just him and me, and suddenly, I’m the woman he’s devouring on top of his bed.

“Good,” he says, before crashing his lips against mine again.

Tristan’s hand snakes up my neck as he grabs a fistful of my hair. The hairs on the back of my neck rise in excitement as he tugs on my blonde strands. I moan in response and it only encourages him to pull a little harder.

“Tristan?” I ask, breaking the kiss.

“What is it, angel?”

His lips don’t stop kissing me even as I gasp for breath. I feel them trail over the side of my face and down my neck. The feeling leaves me in a state of ecstasy. I’m paralyzed as a wave of pleasure washes over me. Each kiss leaves me reeling. Tristan’s lips pause just above the top of my breast. I bite back a moan at the loss of his scorching touch. To my surprise, he leans back and loosens the tie around his neck.

“Give me your hands,” he commands.

I comply without a second thought. I watch as Tristan wraps his red silk tie around my wrists and then pushes my hands above my head. A hungry look flashes across his face as he sits back, admiring his work.

“Don’t move.”

A tremor of excitement pulses through me as he leans back. I clench in anticipation as his lips hover over my sex.

“I can’t wait to taste you, pet, but I have a feeling once I start, I won’t be able to stop.”

I blush and then smile as a wicked grin flashes on his handsome face. I close my eyes savoring each time his tongue runs over my sex. At this moment, I feel my most naked. My most vulnerable. And for the first time, I know it’ll be okay.

Tristan

“You’re going with me to the fundraiser tonight.”

Emily turns and smiles as she stands on her tiptoes in the restroom across from my room. She brushes her long blonde hair as she stares at me with a beautiful smile. Her skin glows brightly against the sunshine that filters through the studio. We’ve spent the last two weeks on a staycation. I convinced her to stay with me despite the need she felt to at least go home and grab clothes. Fortunately, I convinced her that clothing would be optional for this trip.

Every morning, we spend the first hour fucking, then eating, reading, painting, showering, and then in the final hours of sunlight we dance. Despite being good at it, I used to hate dancing, but somehow, it feels natural with her. The last time we danced together, it didn’t end so well, but now things are different. Emotions are unrestrained.

“I don’t know if I’m going to the fundraiser tonight. I was kind of thinking I would stay here. Maybe watch some RomCom and eat popcorn,” she teases.

“And leave me all alone? Whom will I dance with?”

“I’m sure Nicholas has plenty of slots open on his card.”

I laugh. “Are you kidding me? He probably won’t even make it through dinner without taking someone home.”

“He’s such a rogue.”

“He is.”

“Do I detect a sliver of envy?”

“Never,” I say, winking at her. “Hey, stay right there.”

She smiles as I walk over to my easel and place a blank canvas on it. I sit and begin etching the lines of her silhouette. She stands on her tiptoes likes a dancer as she applies a layer of foundation and mascara. After half an hour, I finish a rough sketch of a new painting. As I stare at the raw sketch, I realize something I hadn’t noticed before. Around Emily’s neck sits the necklace I gave her all those years ago.

Emily sets down her makeup and then picks up a pair of dangling earrings. She’s completely unaware of the emotions running through me as I watch her slowly place each hook into her earlobes. When she’s finally done, she turns to me with a broad smile.

“You’re still wearing it?” I choke, staring at the necklace.

Her eyes travel down to the top of her chest. She picks up the sterling necklace with her palm.

“It stays with me wherever I go,” she admits

Her words hit me like a steel train. I never expected her to keep the necklace on after she had thought I slept with Ceci. I was almost sure I would never see it again, but it’s been too painful to even think of asking about it.

The fog clouding my mind lifts as Emily walks over to me and sits on my lap. I’ve watched the woman I love slip from my fingers over and over again, but I’m not going to make that mistake anymore. I’m going to do the one thing I thought I would never do—chain her to me. I’m going to make this beautiful angel my wife.

Now, if only I can convince her to do it before she changes her mind about us. And about me.

Tristan

“Tristan? Aren’t we going to the fundraiser?”

I smile at the puzzled look on her face. She really has no idea where I’m taking her. Her eyes peer out the side of the car to the city around us. My heart swells at the breathtaking sight of Emily in her Vera Wang dress. The sheer champagne fabric pops against her aquamarine eyes. She looks like a princess on her way to the ball. God, I hope she feels like a princess tonight.

“We’re on our way. Do you have your driver’s license on you?”

“Uh, yes. Of course,” she says, eyeing me.

“Good.”

Emily checks her lipstick as we hit a snag of traffic just outside of the courthouse. The sight of the building is enough to send my body into a fit of sweat. I loosen my bow tie as it sits strangling my neck. My nerves are starting to get the better of me. Where the hell is Augie? I told him to be here at four-thirty p.m. I can only pull so many strings to get the courthouse to stay open a later. My heart palpitates as I feel Emily’s eyes staring at me. I know she senses something’s wrong.