Waiting for Wednesday (12 page)

Tris walked over and took her hand, leading her around to the side of the bar and through the hinged opening until they were standing next to the taps. The light aroma of beer hovered in the air and she smiled, the delicate scent reminding her of the man standing beside her.

“I’ve imagined this so many times,” he said softly.

She smiled. “Tell me.”

He took a step closer and lightly grasped her waist. “I’m going to show you.” He tugged her T-shirt from her jeans, slowly dragging it up her body until her bra was revealed. She started to help him by stripping it off completely, but he stopped her.

“Leave the shirt there. As much as I love you naked, kitten, there’s something very sexy about a half-dressed woman.”

“Any woman?”

“My woman. You.”

She giggled. “Good answer.”

He reached behind her and unhooked her bra, dragging the lace away until it lay gathered above her breasts with her T-shirt. Tristan’s gaze drifted down and she shivered under his seductive look. “Beautiful.” He bent forward and took one of her taut nipples into his mouth.

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Her hands reached up to tangle in his hair, her fingers playing with the thick strands as he made love to her breasts with his mouth. For several minutes, he worshiped at the altar of her body and she felt very much like a pagan princess. She gasped as he increased the suction, the throbbing pleasure weaving its way through her. She was straddling his thigh, riding him in a vain attempt to find relief.

“Shhh,” he whispered as he stepped away. “Let’s get rid of these jeans. They’re in the way.”

She helped him push the denim over her hips and once again, he stopped her before she could kick them off. “Turn around, Lane.” He helped her spin and pushed her upper body down until she was bent over the low counter behind the bar. His hands caressed her bare ass and she trembled.

“God. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve imagined you like this. Your clothing in disarray, your body spread out over this bar, waiting for me to take you.” She looked at him over her shoulder, her breathing erratic, her heart racing with excitement.

“I’m going to take you, Lane. I’m going to take you hard and fast and just when you think you can’t stand any more, I’m going to do it all over again.” His hand moved from her ass cheeks to the line between and she groaned when he thrust two fingers inside her pussy.

“Hurry, Tris,” she begged, but he didn’t respond to her plea, by word or action. His fingers moved too slowly inside her.

He bent forward and kissed her ass, his rough cheek scratching the sensitive skin and driving her arousal higher. She loved his five o’clock shadow, although she’d had some embarrassing moments trying to hide the love marks he’d left on her neck the past few days.

“I don’t think you’re hot enough,” he murmured.

“Dammit, Tris. If I get much hotter, I’ll singe this bar. Fuck me. Please.” 95

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“No. I’m hungry. Think I’ll have a little snack before we get down to business.”

“I’m going to kill you if you stop now,” she muttered and he laughed.

“I changed my mind. These jeans are in the way. Take them off. I want you wide open for this.”

She fought to kick off her pants, her body pulsating with need.

“You know, there’s something very kinky about the idea of popping your cherry.” She glanced over her shoulder when she felt him rummaging around on the bar.

“What?”

Her breath caught when she saw him pick up a bright red cherry from the garnish tray, removing the stem. “What are you going to do with that?”

“Eat it,” he replied. “Now hold still.” He nudged her legs farther apart with his foot and she sucked in a breath when she felt him place the cool piece of fruit at her opening.

“God,” she whispered when he pushed the cherry inside.

“How many should I eat?” he asked, but she was too focused on the idea of what he was about to do to answer.

He pushed three more cherries into her hot pussy before she felt his lips touch her aching flesh. His tongue caressed her opening before thrusting inside.

“So sweet,” he murmured as his fingers moved beneath her to play with her clit.

She groaned as he worked the tiny nub while fucking her with his tongue. She tried to thrust against his mouth, but he used his free hand to hold her to the counter.

“Please,” she begged when she felt his tongue move the cherries around inside her.

“Watch me,” he said, moving back a bit and replacing his tongue with his fingers.

She glanced over her shoulder just in time to see him…
feel
him…pop the first cherry out. He moved the fruit to his mouth and ate it. She groaned at the sexiness of his actions. He took out two more of the cherries and ate them as she watched. When he dragged out the last small piece, he leaned over her, his back caging her to the counter 96

Waiting for Wednesday

as he pushed the fruit between her lips. She was assaulted by contrasting flavors—the sweet juice from the cherry and the tartness from her body’s liquid.

“Delicious,” he whispered in her ear. She felt him fumbling with his pants, heard the crinkling of a foil wrapper and then she felt heaven. The head of his cock nudged her opening and she growled. He’d pushed her beyond needy, beyond hungry. She was ravenous.

“Sounds like my kitten’s turned into a wildcat. Hold on, Lane.” His warning was no empty threat. He came into her body just as he’d promised—

hard and fast and perfect. She climaxed after only a few thrusts, but Tris gave her no reprieve. He pounded into her greedy body as she fought to restrain her screams. Her first and second climax seemed to be connected and she wondered if it was possible to come for so long. Tris kept her at the edge, never allowing her body to rest, to recover.

He took her like a man possessed, or in the act of possessing, and she willingly surrendered her body into his all-too-capable hands.

His hands were wrapped around her, gripping her breasts firmly, moving her body toward his. The sound of their labored breathing, her soft moans and his whispered praises filled the bar.

“So good,” he murmured. “So fucking hot. God, I love you, Lane.” She came, his proclamation and hard thrusts triggering the response. He followed her into the white-hot bliss and she shuddered, trying to regain control of her body. He remained above her for several minutes, his head resting against her back as hers lay lifeless on the counter.

“Just like you imagined?” she asked.

“Better.”

“I think I’m going to sleep here,” she murmured, deciding there was no way she could make her limp muscles carry her up two flights of stairs.

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He chuckled. “Not that I don’t think my brothers wouldn’t love to get a glimpse of your sexy bare ass first thing in the morning, but I think you might be more comfortable in my bed.”

“Problem is, I can’t get there.”

“I’ll carry you,” he said.

She looked at him. “Is this going to become a habit?”

“Maybe.”

“Cool,” she answered. “Have to admit it’s pretty sexy.” He rose and helped her to a standing position. He lowered her shirt and bra, not bothering to hook it back up. While he zipped his jeans, she put hers back on. The second they were decent, he bent over, hefting her over his shoulder in a fireman’s lift.

“Hey!” she protested as she dangled upside down, looking at his back.

He laughed. “Not what you had in mind?” He headed for the stairs.

“You know it wasn’t.” She tried to push her way down, but he stopped her struggles by pinching her ass.

“Ouch,” she cried.

“Hush,” he said as they neared the top of the first landing. “You’ll wake up my family.”

They passed through the living room and up the second set of steps to Tristan’s room. Once there, he tossed her on his bed while she giggled.

“Take off your clothes. I like sleeping naked with you.”

“Haven’t you ever heard of asking nicely? Maybe saying the magic word?” she teased, though she starting taking off her jeans.

“Will you take off your clothes?” he asked. “So I can
please
you until your toes curl?”

“Mmm. Much better. I like how you use the magic word.”

“I thought you might. Are we finished with the lesson on manners for now?” 98

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She nodded and grinned.

“Good.” He finished undressing and joined her on the bed.

Her eyebrow rose when she spotted his erection. “You’re kidding, right? I thought that magic-word line was a joke.”

“There’s nothing funny about the magic word. Are you sore?” She shook her head. “No, but God knows I should be. We’ve been fucking like bunnies for days.”

He laughed. “We don’t have to do it if you’re too tired, Lane. I pretty much walk around with a hard-on all the time now that you’re here.”

“Oh my. Well, I certainly can’t have that on my head.” She lay back and reached up, beckoning him to her. “Fuck me, Tris,” she whispered.

He paused, cocking his head to the side as if waiting for something.

“Please,” she added with a giggle.

As they drifted to sleep nearly an hour later, Lane curled up in his arms and whispered one word. “Magic.”

* * * * *

“It’s a beautiful day,” Lane said a week later as she and Mr. Collins took a short walk around the block. The sun had come out full force, gracing spring with a gorgeous burst of warm weather.

“Yes, it is,” Mr. Collins agreed. His walking had improved greatly and he’d moved from the walker to a cane a few days earlier. Lane knew he was suffering from serious cabin fever and she’d begun to wonder how much longer she’d manage to keep him from work. Tris was worried about his pop pushing himself too far, too fast, but she knew there was also a danger in allowing Mr. Collins to languish too long. The problem was finding the happy medium.

“So how is my son treating you?” he asked.

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Lane grinned. Mr. Collins had been surprisingly close-mouthed about her budding relationship with Tris, though she knew he was consumed with curiosity. The fact he was questioning her was a clue he was definitely on the mend.

“Tris is a perfect gentleman.”

Mr. Collins laughed. “You’ll have to sell that line to someone who doesn’t know my son, my dear. His mother used to say he was too much like me. Too old-fashioned, set in his ways. Called us her cavemen from time to time when we annoyed her.” Lane giggled. “Apparently Tris has hidden this alter-ego you all refer to from me.

Sean insists Tris is a—” She paused and blushed, realizing what word she’d almost used in front of the older man.

“I know perfectly well what word Sean uses to describe Tris and I have to confess I’m appalled by his language. Of course, Riley’s is worse. Sunday must roll over in her grave to hear the way her children talk. I don’t know where they get it from.” Lane bit her tongue, fighting against the impulse to mention that no one’s vocabulary was more colorful than Mr. Collins’ when watching one of his beloved sporting teams losing.

“Um, me neither,” she said quickly and Mr. Collins laughed.

“Such a sweet girl. So what are the chances of you marrying Tristan?” Lane sucked in a breath at his unexpected question and started choking as her spit went down the wrong tube. “M-marry?”

Mr. Collins patted her on the back as she fought to recover from her coughing jag.

“Better?”

She nodded.

“Damn fool hasn’t asked you, has he?”

“I’ve only been seeing Tris for a few weeks. It’s way too soon to be thinking about marriage,” she said. “Oh, look at the blooms on that tree. What kind of tree is that?” She hoped to divert the conversation to something a lot less embarrassing. They were nearly 100

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back to the front door of the pub. If she could distract him for just a few more steps, she’d be free and clear.

“Hell if I know,” Mr. Collins said. “I was just wondering—”

“Well, well, well,” a voice said from behind. “What a pleasant surprise.” Lane closed her eyes and fought to hide her grimace. Suddenly, Mr. Collins’ third degree didn’t look so bad.

She took a deep breath and turned to face her ex-husband. “James.” She watched Mr. Collins turn to face the man, scowling.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

James shrugged. “Just taking a walk, enjoying the sunshine and I happened to see you. What a coincidence, eh? I was wondering if I could talk to you for a minute, Lane.” Mr. Collins looked ready to commit murder. Problem was she
had
invited James to the pub to deliver the picture, foolishly thinking it was a safe place to make the exchange. Suddenly she was sorry they were so close to the entrance and she shuddered to think what Tris would do if he saw her ex-husband talking to her.

“Um. Sure.” She turned and saw the look of surprise on Mr. Collins’ face.

“Lane,” he said softly. “You don’t have to talk to this man. Come back in the pub with me.”

“I’ll only be a minute,” she promised. “I swear.” Mr. Collins narrowed his eyes and she knew he wasn’t happy with her answer.

“One minute.” He turned and walked back into the pub.

“Shit,” she muttered. “Did you bring the picture?” She knew she would have much less then sixty seconds to recover the photo and get rid of James before Mr. Collins managed to round up the troops. She glanced back at the door, expecting to see Tris and his brothers storming through like avenging angels.

“I forgot it,” James said and she felt her temper rise.

“You walked all the way here and forgot the picture.” 101

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“I really was just out for a stroll. Didn’t actually intend to run into you.” Sure he didn’t.

“Mr. Collins seems to be recovering nicely. Have you changed your mind about the job offer I told you about?” he asked.

“No, I haven’t.”

“Seems to me you aren’t being very smart, Lane.”

“Seems to me you’re the one not being smart,” Tris said from behind her. Lane sighed and turned slowly. She knew before she looked at his face what she would discover and she wasn’t wrong. Tris was pissed as hell. It was written in his rigid posture and stone-like features. His eyes were shooting daggers at James and she wondered if her ex-husband realized the danger he was in.

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