be dreams, really. More like nightmares.”
I met his gaze for a moment, shocked, before it clicked for me that he was talking about himself. As much as I wanted to tell him that yes, actually, I definitely had nightmares about those exact things… I knew I couldn’t.
Or… shouldn’t.
“So that’s what you were so stressed about?”
He blinked.
Then nodded.
“Yeah,” he confirmed, with a deep sigh like he was embarrassed to admit it. “It’s… something I struggle with, a little bit.”
“A little bit, or a lot?”
A dry laugh wrangled from his throat as he pushed a handful of locs back from his face, meeting my gaze again. “A lot.”
“Me too.”
“Hopefully tonight will be better for both of us,” he replied, with zero innuendo in his tone.
My brain took it there, immediately thinking of a way we could end this night with a definite bang, and go ahead and rid the air between us of the pesky sexual tension.
“Do you want to come inside?”
His eyebrows went up, obviously surprised that I’d asked – and hell, I was kinda surprised myself. We’d exchanged nothing more intimate than a hug, but here I was, basically offering him pussy? What the hell was I thi—
“I probably shouldn’t.”
Oh.
I’d, eventually, have figured out how to rationalize having sex with a near stranger – it wasn’t as if that was far-fetched for me, especially considering some of the things I’d done in the name of a completing a mission.
What threatened to break me, was this firm rejection, when I’d thought – when he made it seem like – he wanted me.
Badly.
Shit.
“Of course,” I stammered, pushing out an awkward laugh. “I shouldn’t assume you want to fuck me just because you’ve… been in my face, nonstop, acting like you want to fuck me.”
“Temp, it’s not—”
“Stop calling me that,” I snapped, suddenly back on the verge of tears I’d overridden three times in the last twenty-four hours already. I was out of practice now – I wasn’t sure I could keep holding them back. “And you don’t have to try to spare my feelings – you can go.”
“It ain’t that either,” he countered, pushing off from the wall to get in my face.
“What is it then?”
“This.”
The this he spoke of was an arm around my waist, pulling me against him, and a hand in my hair, fingers tangled in the strands as his mouth came to mine.
His soft full lips against mine, his tongue in my mouth, his hardness pressed against my stomach, his hand sliding from my waist to grip my ass as he deepened the kiss…
I felt it everywhere.
The giddy lightheadedness, the flutters deep in my belly, the throbbing heat between my legs…
This was… everything.
And it was over much too soon.
“I don’t want to come inside tonight, because… I like you. And I would like it to just… be that, before we make it something else,” he murmured against my lips before he finally pulled back.
“You don’t know me.”
He smirked. “And I’ve already explained how I feel about that. So…”
“So, what?” I asked, my heart still racing from the sudden excitement of that kiss.
“So… stop fucking around Temp…est,” he quickly added, with a goofy grin that I couldn’t help responding to in kind. “Meaning… let me get to know you.”
“I don’t want to.” I shook my head. “Getting to know people is… messy. And hard. Coming upstairs is very, very easy.”
Tristan drug his teeth over his lip, nodding. “Yeah. That’s exactly why I’m not interested in that, sweetheart. Goodnight,” he said, pulling me close again without any type of warning, for another kiss.
A quick one this time, but with the same type of butterflies.
I… didn’t know what to say.
So instead of trying, I said nothing, just returned his wave when he started to walk off.
“Go inside, T, so I know you got all the way home safe,” he called to me before he turned to make sure I was doing so.
Instead, he caught me staring after him.
Embarrassed, I quickly retrieved my keys, not even looking back until I was on the other side of the door.
He waved again, and I waved back, then rushed upstairs to see the street so I could watch him walk past.
Like some silly girl with a crush.
Which… I guess was pretty damn accurate.
The more I thought about him declining my invitation, the angrier I got.
Being turned down was not… a thing that happened to me.
Granted, every sexual experience I could remember had been very specifically targeted – the way I looked, the things I’d said,