Lingus by Mariana Zapata
Tristan was putting our plates into the sink when I came back in and set the computer on the kitchen island before unlocking it and then opening up my iPhoto. He came and sat down on the stool next to mine. Instead of scooting his seat closer to mine, he grabbed the sides of my stool and started pulling it closer to him before I slapped him on the chest with the back of my hand and stood up.
"I'll wash the dishes while you look at them," I said with my back to him. "I've already seen them."
"Deal," he shrugged. Tristan tilted the screen in his direction to start clicking through the twenty or so pictures we'd taken with my digital camera. I'd completely forgotten that I brought it with me on the trip until the last day, like a moron.
I'd just started scrubbing the large pot when I heard him laugh. I turned to look at him over my shoulder and found him smiling at the screen. "What?"
"You looked like such a hobo in my shirt," he answered, smiling at the screen while his fingers kept clicking through pictures. "Like a cute, little hobo."
I snorted as unladylike as possible and turned back. "Whatever."
I heard him chuckle a few more times in the next few minutes, but it was when a few minutes turned into even more minutes that I glanced over my shoulder again to see him staring at the screen intently.
Then I heard it.
I heard a moan that I hadn't heard in years. Four and a half years to be exact.
The plate I'd been washing slipped from my hands and clattered into the ceramic sink, my guts felt the world tilt on its axis.
It felt like time slowed down considerably as I turned completely over to look at him, every muscle in my body tensing up and freezing. His eyes were locked on the screen and his jaw was loose.
"Tristan," I called out to him as I slapped my hands onto my jeans to rub off the soap, not even bothering to rinse them off.
I was going to puke. Oh my God. I was going to puke or pass out, and then hopefully I would have amnesia and not remember that this happened.
His eyes darted to mine as another low and completely overdone moan filtered through the speakers of my computer. "Is that you?" His voice was low and raspy, flicking his eyes back and forth from me to the screen.
I gulped and walked over to stand behind him, hating myself for keeping that stupid video on my computer. Why the fuck didn't I ever delete it? My neck ached with the pressure of my tensing.
"Yes," I squeaked out, looking at a topless, younger version of myself on the computer. Zoey's own topless form scooted on her knees over her old bed, back when she lived in her tiny studio apartment. It all seemed so surreal watching hands in long and short hair, mouth on mouth, stroking hands against exposed chests. It lasted all of five minutes, but it seemed like it was half my life played out before my eyes.
I found my mouth opening on its own volition as soon as the video ended abruptly. Tristan was looking down at the keyboard with his eyes clenched and his hand gripping his thigh. "I thought you said you never did porn," he whispered.
"I didn't, I mean I haven't," I heard the trembling, uneven tone of my voice. It was the same sound I made before I cried. "I told you Zo wanted to get into the industry. She tried going to some of those screenings that they have for new women, but no one ever called her back," I started to explain. "So, she thought that doing a homemade video and sending it to different places would work better. She didn't have a boyfriend, and I mean Zoey wasn't going to have sex with a random stranger back then. She even asked Josh if he could do her a favor and they kind of tried," I had to giggle a little at the memory of Josh and Zoey trying to kiss. It was probably the most visually awkward experience of my life. I'd laughed my ass off watching them fumble through just putting their lips together.
"It didn't work out, obviously. So, then she asked Nikki to do it, and she refused to because she was already in law school at the time." Don't throw up. "Nik has this birthmark on her shoulder blade that everyone can recognize so it wouldn't have worked, you know. She wasn't brave enough to risk it. Zoey asked me if I could do it for her," my throat felt so dry, I had to swallow. Tristan was still looking down but his free hand was now pulling at his hair. "I love Zoey, and I knew how badly she wanted it. I couldn't tell her no. I didn't want to do it. I really didn't want to do it, but I love her. How could I tell her no?” I rambled. “I couldn't. She'd do anything for me and I'd do anything for her."
My eyes stayed on his frozen frame. I knew I didn't do anything wrong and that he had no right to be upset if he was, but still. "It was so fucking weird and luckily, neither one of us wanted to ruin our friendship by doing anything too uncomfortable so we agreed just to keep our underwear on and our hands above our waists. It took a couple of weeks afterward for us to get back to normal, but Zo got what she wanted so I can't regret it, Mag. I'd give you my left lung if you needed it," I added, hoping to let him know that he was just as special to me as Zoey was.
My mouth kept spewing out words on its own. "It isn't on the internet or anything. Only the people she sent it to have seen it and—"
Two hands were on my waist tugging me forward to press me against his solid chest. He was clinging to me, pressing his mouth against mine so forcefully I thought my lips would bruise. When his tongue delved into my mouth and kissed me with more passion that I'd encountered in my life, I wrapped my arms around his neck. Kissing him and kissing him more, my mouth slanted so I could suck the tip of his tongue. Tristan was breathing hard through his nose, wrapping his arms so tightly around me that there wasn't an inch of space between our chests.
He tore his mouth away from mine and gasped as his eyes locked on mine. I couldn't help but pant as I tried to understand the look he was giving me. I'd thought when he saw the video that maybe he was upset or had gotten all possessive over me, but this look was different. Completely different. It made my heart tighten fiercely just like it had earlier. I could feel his hands shaking on my skin. "Kat," he murmured, inches from my lips. "You are the sweetest, kindest, and most selfless person I've ever met. You know how many people in the world would do that for someone? Not. Enough."
His hand grazed up my spine to land on the back of my neck, pressing the pads of his fingers into my skin. His face leaned into mine, his forehead pressed against my own and his hot, panting breath scorched the surface of my lips. His other free hand went to grab mine and place it over the left side of his chest, right over his heart. "Goldie, I love you," he breathed, kissing my cheek softly.
His words, his hand on me, and his breath over my mouth ingrained themselves into my memory at that point forever. That moment exploded within me, and I knew that I stopped breathing, thinking that I could stop what just happened and relive it over and over again. Tristan loved me? I couldn't, Jesus, I couldn't think of anything.
He stroked my cheek with his fingertips, talking to me with his lips just an inch away from mine. "I love you," he repeated in a low voice. "So much."
I'm not sure what exactly happened in the seconds after that, but it was almost like I unleashed some kind of beast that lay dormant within me. His words and his love ignited me from the inside out, and my mouth, my hands, and my legs were wrapped up in him. It was gentle but crazed as I leaned into him, sucking his bottom lip between my own as I touched him everywhere I could reach over his shirt. Tristan loved me. I thought angels were singing in heaven for me sensing the deep emotions that ran through me at the knowledge. I could feel him hardening as I shifted closer to him, taking as much of his mouth and tongue as I could.
I whimpered his name against his ear when his lips made a slippery slope to suck on my neck. Oh, fuck me. I loved that. "Please."
He nodded against my throat, knowing better than I did what I was asking from him. His hands slid down my back and toward my thighs, pulling them closed around his hips so I could wrap my legs around him, before he grabbed my ass in two handfuls and me pulled me even tighter against him. I felt him stand up and walk through his house while I pressed my closed mouth into the sl
Tristan loved me and it made me feel amazing.
"Fuck, Kat," he moaned, stopping for a moment to capture my mouth in his before he pulled away. His breathing got a little uneven as he walked us upstairs and finally into his bedroom.
The bed pressed against my back when he leaned forward and dropped me onto it. He unbuttoned and peeled off my jeans slowly. I eyed his face the entire time, taking in how calm he looked in comparison to the way I felt. I thought I was going to combust as his hands pulled off my socks, and then trailed up the backs of my calves and legs at a snail's pace. His eyes were looking at the path he made only stopping at the plain cotton underwear I'd worn that day. He looked up at me then and smiled. "You're perfect."
Long minutes passed as he took his time unbuttoning my shirt and slipping it off my shoulders, then pulling my underwear down my legs, kissing and nipping at my thighs while he did it before finally ending when he unhooked my bra with shaky fingers and nuzzled my chest. I wanted to take off his clothes like he had done to me, but he was off the bed and standing at the foot while he pulled off his shirt, and then unzipped his pants, pulling them down along with his boxer briefs.
I forgot to breathe when I saw him standing there completely naked and bobbing in the air. This man just told me that he loved me. How was it possible? I took in every muscle on his body, finely cut and defined in the darkened room, and I took a deep breath, reminding myself that the last thing I needed was to pass out. He stood there watching me for the longest moment of my life, and I caught his tongue sweeping out of his mouth to lick his bottom lip before he put one knee on the bed and then another.
Hands squeezed my shins, knees, hips, and then rested on the edges of my ribs to graze the outer mounds of my breasts. He was silent as he laid his body over mine, holding himself up on one forearm while the other one circled each of my breasts before heading down to the juncture of my legs. Tristan kissed me slowly before returning my same whimper when his middle and ring finger brushed over my lower lips. Before I could even think about his fingers grazing me, they were plunging, stroking me and seeing for themselves just how excited I was.
"Fuck..." I moaned, moving my mouth to the side of his when I felt him curl his fingers.
Then, he was out of me, making a quick circle-shaped tour of where I throbbed and sucking my nipple into his hot mouth. "Can I have you?" he asked against the skin of my breast, green eyes gazing up at me.
"Always," I stuttered out, not even thinking about what I was saying. I felt him start to lift himself off of me, knowing he was going for a condom in his dresser. I grabbed his wrist and pulled him to me. He knew I was on birth control after having seen me take it in the mornings, and I knew he'd never had sex with anyone without protection before. Any logical thinking woman would have let him grab the condom and slip it on, but I didn't want that with him. I'd made such a stink in my head about wanting to be different for him, and I knew that I could do my share and make it different for him, too.
Tristan knew what I was trying to tell him by stopping him from getting off the bed and going for his stash because he smiled and nodded, stretching his long body out over mine. I could feel his extremely well endowed body part slide between my legs, the shaft grazing my skin when he thrust, as his hands and lips sucked and licked my breasts. My hands went into his hair and my hips bucked up, enjoying the feel of him pressing against me with each slippery stroke between my thighs.
With a shift of his hips, his hands grabbed mine from their spot on the back of his head and settled them on the mattress above me, as he slowly eased his way into me, entwining our fingers together. I arched my back trying to get used to the feel of him filling me inch by inch.
"God damn it," he groaned, tilting his hips forward a bit more so that he sheathed himself inside of me completely. I gasped, partly because he was big and part of me couldn't believe he fit. "Oh my fucking lord," he grunted, squeezing each of my hands. "You feel so good, baby."
Holy shit, I'd never been more glad I wasn't a guy because I probably would've blown my load if I had a dick in response to his groans and words.
I'm not sure how long he stayed completely still inside of me before he started thrusting, shallow, slow strokes. He cursed things I didn't understand between pressing his mouth against mine. I wrapped my legs around his waist, digging my heels into the muscle right below his ass, which let him sink even deeper in me. All I could think about was the way his hips felt against me, the way his mouth kissed me just right, the way his fingers clenched around mine when he kept our hands above my head even when he started speeding up his strokes and making them so much fucking deeper.
"Oh... my... shit... shit..." I started moaning when he pulled himself up to his knees and started pushing in and out of me steadily, my hips meeting his each time. I tried to focus on other things, like his damp forehead resting against my temple. My skin was starting to pearl over with sweat as I tried to keep up with his thrusts and tried not to solely think about how fucking good it felt each time his thick tip brushed and pressed into a spot in me that made my toes curl.
I'd thought I'd had good sex in the past but this couldn't compare to anything before. It wasn't one thing or another that made me feel amazing; it wasn't just his dick that stretched me, it wasn't the way his sweaty body slid against me, or the way his mouth worked mine sweetly and then more erotically than anything. I could feel it in my bones how differently this was with him because of him.
Hips became frantic, hands squeezed each other’s in time, and I felt that sweet ache right in me when he started grinding down on me with each upward stroke. My legs tightened around him and even though my shoulders were sore from my hand position over my head for so long, I tensed up, gasping and whimpering. "Tristan... oh!" He was looking at me, rubbing me with the short, coarse hair that covered the base of him on each stroke. Then, I just burst, covering a scream of "Tristan!" by pressing my mouth against his shoulder, clenching the most amazing orgasm of all orgasms.
He grunted as I came, thrusting into me hard and deep a couple more times before tensing up from his neck through his thighs. Tristan trembled covering my cheek with his clenched teeth as he came, spilling in me, saying something I couldn't begin to understand. I could feel his thighs twitching against mine as he shifted himself to lay his cheek against my chest. With one leg between mine, he dragged the comforter that had ended up hanging off the edge of the bed and pulled it over us. We lay there, catching our breath, and I stroked his damp back from shoulder blade to right above his perfect ass.
"That was," I let out a huge exhale because no word seemed to be fitting for a description. "Amazing?"
I felt his chest shake on top of mine as he chuckled. "Really, really amazing." Warm lips pressed against my chest. "I didn't know it could be like that," he said softly.
That same pressure in my chest from earlier made my heart feel huge. "Me either."
I'm not sure when we fell asleep in a mess of sweaty, warm, and heavy, but we did. I woke up some time later out of the blue to find that I was still on my back with Tristan's arm and leg thrown over me. I looked at the side of his face, noticing how much more beautiful and handsome he was in his sleep. He was perfect. His full lips, his face, but it was more than that. He was the sweetest person I'd ever met when he wasn't being a jackass, but if I was honest with myself, I liked it when he was a teasing jackass. A lot.
No one I'd ever met made me feel a fraction of what he did. No one. I doubted I'd ever meet anyone who could even be half the man and friend he was to me.
Then it hit me. The thing I felt in me, that tightening sensation wasn't pain. I loved this dork. This man who loved his dog, his mom, and me.
We were so caught up in each other after he told me that he loved me that I didn't say anything back, and I felt like a complete bitch.
So, I shook his ar
Maybe it was a little dramatic, but maybe it wasn't, because now I was bursting with this feeling in my body that I couldn't completely understand but that I recognized. All those tears I'd shed while he was gone filming, and that guilt I felt the two times I went out with other men— it was all for the same reason. I'd been in love with him. I was in love with him. I pressed the tip of my index finger against his nose and leaned my head toward his. "I've loved you way longer than you've loved me."
Chapter 54
Good luck and I are never on the same page. Most of the time, I don't even think we're in the same book.
I kept expecting the other shoe to drop, or whatever the saying was, and that something terrible would happen that broke me out of the state that I was in. Emotionally, I was in absolute happiness or what I would consider to be Hawaii. Easygoing, carefree happiness.
So, when my period started the day after Tristan found out about the video with Zoey, and then told me he loved me— I wasn't surprised. I braced myself for worse, like my apartment burning down, cracking a tooth, or getting a yeast infection. Any of those would have been more along the lines of what I would've expected. I may have screamed in frustration, because I was so fucking ready to pull down his boxer briefs the first chance I got, but oh well. We'd only gotten a few minutes together before I was leaving his house and trying to make it back home to grab clothes and make it to work in time.