Page 68 of Secret Heart
There’s a charged silence behind us, and I can’t help but smirk. We order the snacks without fuss, though I request the jalapeños from the nachos on the side just in case Penny does wake up. I also snag a bag of m&ms. Lance balances Beau’s soda in one hand and his phone in the other, frowning as he taps out a reply to someone. When we turn to head back to our seats, all three girls are focused on me.
The redhead and other girl are pale, their eyes wide. The blonde in the middle is staring daggers into me as if looks can truly kill. I only smirk more. My scent changes, too, filling with smug satisfaction. The third girl pales even more, clearly able to tell the subtle adjustment that the others aren’t.
“For the record, I’m not crazy,” I say as we pass them. “And it was more than one night.”
All three girls’ mouths drop open. Lance snorts but doesn’t say anything as we walk by them.
Triston slowly eases onto his elbows, pulling his weight from me. I wrap my arms around him, forcing him still, and run my tongue up the side of his throat. He shudders, and I know Beau’s pulled out of him. A moment later, and Beau’s weight disappears from the hotel’s large bed. A door clicks shut, and then there’s the running water of the shower.
Triston kisses the hollow of my throat and then my collarbone, letting his teeth bite every other kiss. I arch into him, clenching around him as if my lock isn’t holding us together. He grunts, and his clove scents swirls around us again. I can’t help but laugh, and he groans again, dropping back on top of me as his arms give out.
“Fuck,” he mutters. “That’s not fucking fair, Em.”
I kiss him hard, delving into his mouth until he scents all over again, the clove rising around us like steam from a hot spring. The sour edge is entirely gone, and satisfaction fills me at that reality. When he pulls away, panting, his eyes are blown wide. He twists a hand into my hair and presses his forehead to mine.
“The touch-starvation…” I trail off as he nods.
“Yeah, it’s gone.” There’s a contented wonder in his voice, and I wrap my arms tighter around him.
Neither of us say anything as the time passes. After several minutes, the shower cuts off and Beau steps back into the room. He trails a hand down Triston’s arm and then mine, kissing us both. Then, without a word, he pulls on a set of jeans and leaves the suite’s bedroom, closing the door behind us.
The monitor on the table on the far side of the bed crackles with Beau’s movements and then the softer cry of Penny as she wakes up. A minute later, my lock finally releases him. He groans as he eases onto his knees, pulling me with him. He kisses me again, soft and light, then slides off the bed. I follow him into the small bathroom and the modest shower that really isn’t big enough for us both. His lips flip in a small smile as I press a kiss to his sternum, not caring at all that I’m only getting the smallest bit of the shower’s water.
“You’ll be safe while we’re at home?” I ask.
Worry is a well-known friend in my head, and I can’t help it as it sinks its claws deep into me.
He tilts his head into the spray, his curls lengthening and darkening from the water.
“I’ll be fine,” he says without opening his eyes. He washes and conditions his hair in record time, then twists so I’m the one under the water. He grabs the hotel’s body wash and drops to his knees, running it over my legs and then higher, around my hips. My scent lashes out, surrounding us, and he kisses my hip bone.
I swallow down all the things I want to say. None of them will be helpful. Most aren’t even true, just scenarios my brain is spinning. I ease him back to his feet once he’s finished with the body wash, kissing him until his dick is a heavy weight against my stomach and his clove interweaves with my vanilla, strong enough it’s all I can think about.
“Emily,” he whispers. “I promise I’ll be fine. It’s a photoshoot and a small interview. Just a couple hours of press tomorrow, and then I’ll be on a plane. I’ll be back home with you before you wake up Wednesday morning.”
I nod, trying to believe the words.
“Fuck me again,” I murmur.
“We don’t have time.” His voice is breathless.
I shake my head. “I don’t need to lock you. Just… just let me feel you for a bit longer.”
He lifts me into his arms, presses me against the tiled wall, and drives into me in one hard thrust.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
TRISTON
“You took the last month away from the spotlight. What can you tell us about the break?”
I can’t help but smile even though we’re on at least the twentieth question of this interview. Marsha, the interviewer sitting across from me, smiles, too. She adjusts her notecards and crosses her ankles, her gaze flicking to the two cameras to my right that are recording our conversation.
“I went home,” I say simply. “It was time.”
Marsha nods. “Home to Creek Falls?”
The part of me that struggles with lights and sounds wants to curl into a dark corner with one of my blankets from my nest. I do my best to keep the desire off of my face, though. I set one ankle on my other knee, using the adjustment as a way to recenter myself.
