“What do you want, Lexi?” I ask softly. “Because I know what I want. What I’ve always wanted but you weren’t ready for five years ago.” My gaze dips to her lips, and the answer is there, but I still ask to make sure we want the same thing.
Her hands join mine, her palms soft and warm as our thumbs lock, and I’m ready to be guided to where she wants me to touch her. “I want that kiss you’ve owed me since putting this ring on my finger at Heathrow,” she whispers.
My heart hammers so hard in my chest, I swear she can hear it.
Everything within me surges forward, so eager. This won’t be our first kiss, but unlike the last time we crossed the line, which tore us apart, one simple kiss could start healing the hurt between us.
Chapter Twenty-Four
LEXI
Somewhere inside me, there’s an echo of the vulnerability I felt five years ago, when I asked him to kiss me the first time. I’m not sure if I heard him right.“Because I know what I want.What I’ve always wanted but you weren’t ready for five years ago.”
This is pure lust, and I bet it’s the same for Tristan. But as for five years ago…what if he felt the same but didn’t—couldn’t or wouldn’t—act on it becauseIwasn’t ready? I pause, trying to be rational as my heart pounds wildly with the notion that maybe, just maybe, he’d wanted me too but did the gentlemanly thing?—
Fact is, I’m no longer a teenager in the throes of an infatuation, albeit one that’s stood the test of time. I’m a woman who knows what I want, and three months is a long time to stare at the goods locked out of reach in a glass cabinet.
This might be lust, but Tristan’s eyes don’t shine like those of a guy who’s just gotten the green light to fuck his one-night stand.Thatlook I know well.
Instead, Tristan’s gaze is soft and tender as his fingers find my hips, nudging me closer. I can’t think straight. All I can do isfollow my body blindly. I slide my hands up his arms, mimicking what he did to my legs minutes ago. I trace over the roadmap of his veins, over the hills of wrist bones, the collection of leather and twisted metal on his left wrist, up his forearms to his elbows, drawing him closer. Somehow he has slipped to the floor on his knees in the space between the sofa and the coffee table, but even like this, he is taller than me. And he’s so close, I can see the amber flecks in his warm brown eyes.
“What games are you playing, Lexi?” His lips ghost over my hairline. His stubbled cheek grazes mine and reminds me that he’s a man who probably fumbles less with sex and love than I do. Tristan is, after all, a scientist; he’ll have a hypothesis, method, and conclusion at the end of this.
“One that needs two players only,” I breathe as his lips caress a spot beneath my ear that makes me shift and cling to his shoulders, all hard and muscled.
“And what are the rules?” His mouth covers the short stretch to my jaw, and a galaxy of tingles runs over my skin. His hands move up my sides, firming their hold on my body. My nipples are hard and jutting out, seeking attention from his fingers, his lips.
The Lexi O’Reilly Short Compendium of Happy Work Rulesflits through my mind, and somehow none of them apply here.Male co-workers are off the menu?I’m engaged to one.
Stick to company policy and obey the rules?To be honest, since landing on this island, I’ve been confused. Small places like this come with their own challenges, and what works here will never work in New York and vice versa. To be honest, I’m a bit befuddled. Must be the heat.
As for bending the rules with caution, it’s the breaking part that comes with hazards…
“Rules don’t apply in paradise,” I murmur as he trails kisses down my neck. I lean my head to the side, opening up for him.“Except that it’s game over when we leave here. No regrets. No expectations.”Andno falling irreparably in love.
I need to keep this light and easy. It’s just lust. Just sex. Nothing more. Tristan isn’t the commitment kind, and I don’t blame him. Being with someone for three months can never change a lifetime’s exposure to infidelity and indifference.
He follows a hot lick of his tongue with a slow and sensual chain of kisses that starts at the dip of my collarbone and proceeds all the way to the corner of my mouth.Oh. My. God. I can’t hold back. I open my legs wider and press my body flush with his, my sex snug against his erection—holy fuck, hedoeswant me—as my fingers desperately rake into his hair to keep him close.
Tristan’s thumb brushes a soft sweep against the underside of my breast. “I’m in,” he murmurs.
Then his lips close over mine, and I open for him, our tongues connecting in a languid twist that soon turns passionate and deep. As we kiss, Tristan strokes my breast, shifting from the underside and homing in on my nipple. I moan and reach for his hand to pause him.
His hand stills, and our breathing is haggard as we break away.
“I’m a bit tender,” I whisper as his somewhat drugged gaze searches mine. “Kind of all over…places.”
The gears seem to shift in his mind, and he drops his hands to my hips. They hold me anchored, and I want to rub my pussy against his erection in a very wanton way.
“Sorry, angel, it slipped my mind for a moment there.”
Angel. I love that.
With a groan and a deprecating chuckle, he moves a few inches backwards, breaking our physical connection as my period puts a pause on proceedings. Which is maybe a good thing. Only fools rush in…
“So therearerules.” Tristan’s tone is teasing as he cups my cheek.
“Only this one,” I say on a sigh. His whisper-soft touch is not helping me put a stop to things.
