The shed is small. Dust and rust and the sharp tang of fertilizer. Sunlight bleeds through warped boards in thin, useless strips.
It could be anywhere. I don't care as long as it's with Tristan.
The door clicks shut, and I'm on him—fingers in his jacket, mouth crashing into his. He groans into the kiss.
Same freefall. Same madness.
"Thought you'd changed your mind," he mutters against my lips, already yanking at my clothes. He's being too rough, and the fabric tears somewhere.
I steady his hands. "I have to walk out of here in one piece."
He smirks. "Can't make any promises."
He lifts me onto the narrow workbench, his tongue dragging up my neck while his fingers brush skin that's already slick and aching.
He pauses. "No underwear?"
"Seemed inefficient."
His laugh is deliciously low. "Impatient."
"Shut up and fuck me." I tug at his belt. "Please."
He catches my wrists, knocking them aside to undo the belthimself. He's suddenly just as needy as I am. I think he secretly likes being told what to do sometimes.
I bet he would be a fun tamer.
"Calder's schedule tonight?"
"Dinner with investors. Out until ten, maybe later." My breath hitches as he presses the head of his cock against me. "Why?"
"Because I'm coming to your room tonight."
"You can't. It's too risky. We leave for New York in two days?—"
He nibbles on my earlobe. "You're right."
He starts kissing and sucking at my neck while dragging his cock through my slit.
"Guess you don't want this bad enough."
God fucking dammit.
That feels so good.
"Am I right?"
"I…" My eyes roll to the back of my head.
"You must not want it bad enough."
I'm going to kill him just as soon as I have a coherent thought.
"I do…you know I do…I—I—" I sputter, pushing my hips closer to him, trying to get him inside me, but it's no use. He's enjoying this far too much. "We just…you can't—fuck."
He grips my thighs, spreading my legs. "You know what I can't do? Stay away from you. Not be inside you."
"You could have been inside me already if you hadn't decided to edge me."
