Rock Bottom - Lilley R. K. (читаем бесплатно книги полностью .TXT) 📗
I turned on my heel and strode to the front door. I had my hand on the knob before he stopped me, and he stopped me in the most Tristan way possible.
He pressed against me from behind, mostly naked, hard as a poker, and completely unmindful of the room full of people that must be watching us.
“I’ve missed you,” he whispered in my ear, his hands moving over my hands, pinning them to the door above me. “You can’t imagine how much I’ve missed you. I thought about you day and night. When I would text and you wouldn’t reply right away, I came so close to saying fuck it all and driving home to find you.”
“I’ve been busy. I have classes, and I actually attend them pretty regularly. I always answered back as soon as I could.”
“I know, but it’s not enough. We should never be apart, not for any reason. I can’t stand it. Come back to bed with me, sweetheart. I need you. Now.”
The press of his body, that rasp in my ear, had me wet and ready and I wanted nothing more than to give in, but I didn’t intend to just let this go. It had been too big of a problem for too long, and I was sick of it. I had enough shitty things going on in my life right now. Groupies humping my boyfriend in his sleep was not going to be one of them.
“I need to leave. I’ll call you later, but I really just can’t deal with this right now. I’m too angry. I might say some things to you that I’ll regret later if I don’t have time to cool off first.”
He made a little sound of protest in the back of his throat, and of course, that got to me. It had always been so hard for me to tell him no, and that had only gotten worse, the deeper I’d fallen for him.
“Please,” he said, very, very quietly, a word he almost never used. “I need you. Now. You can chew me a new one after. I can take it, sweetheart.”
I wrenched my hands free, turning to glare at him. “It’s not about chewing you a new one, you ass. It’s about things that go on in this apartment when I’m away that I won’t stand for. It’s not about talk, it’s about change—”
“Okay. Fine,” he interrupted, looking earnest. “You tell me what you need and I’ll see it done. Change away.”
I set my jaw into a stubborn line, knowing that I was going to go down in the band’s history for being a bitch for this. “No more groupies in the apartment. And wherever you’re staying in L.A., for the recording, no groupies there, either. Girlfriends, dates, fine, but these sluts I see today, have got to go.”
He gave a brief nod, turning his head to address the room. “New house rules. Any chick that isn’t a girlfriend needs to leave. And since I know Dean doesn’t have a girlfriend, that’s all of you.”
Of course Dean, who was still on the couch, had something to say about that. “Fuck you, man. This is my house, too. If you get to have your pus—”
“If you finish that fucking sentence, you know what’s going to happen. Now, clear the room. The lease is under my name. If you have a problem with the new house rule, you can get the fuck out, too.”
There was a lot of muttering and movement, but everyone seemed to be obeying.
Tristan pulled me out of the way as the slutty parade started to file out. He watched for a moment, seeming to think it was settled, and turned back to me, moving against me until my shoulders hit the wall.
“Anything else?” he asked, but he didn’t even give me a chance to answer before he was slanting his lips over mine, hungry and hot, and just what I’d been waiting for. It had been weeks since I’d seen him, and I was kissing him back instantly, moaning as his tongue invaded. He thrust it in and out, fucking my mouth.
He pinned my hands to the wall, sliding a thigh between mine, pushing it high, until I was riding it, my hips moving in circles to rub against him restlessly. It wasn’t enough, and I hooked my leg behind his hip, every part of me working to bring his hardness into my core.
He groaned, working his hips between my thighs until we were fitted. Our clothes were in the way, but the contact was just in the perfect spot, and I writhed against him, rubbing my clit against his cock, working to a fever pitch in seconds.
“Get a room,” Dean said loudly.
Tristan ripped his mouth away, turning his head to bark, “Privacy! Now!”
Dean muttered something that I couldn’t quite make out, but sure enough, he obeyed.
I’d witnessed this exchange countless times.
The instant we were completely alone, Tristan began stripping me. He started with my tank top, peeling it off, opening the front clasp of my bra with one swift movement, and slipping it off my arms.
He went down to his knees to work on my jeans. They were tight, so he had to peel them off slowly, taking my panties with them.
Being stripped was distracting, but not as distracting as his kiss had been, and as I became slightly less distracted, I found my mind moving to the thing that was bugging me, stupid as it was.
“You wanted her. You were hard for her.”
He paused briefly, then resumed peeling. “Sweetheart, I was sleeping. That was morning wood, and for your information, I was dreaming of you when she interrupted me. I was expecting you, and when I felt someone get on top of me, that was the first thought that occurred. It didn’t last but a second, though, before I realized that it was some strange woman.”
That appeased me, but mostly because skanky groupies were now banned from the house, so it wouldn’t be happening again.
The second he got my jeans free of my feet, he pulled my legs over his shoulders and buried his face between my thighs, effectively stopping any more thinking on my part. His tongue worked on me expertly, his big fingers delving inside of me, working into a rhythm that had me mindless and writhing against the wall, his shoulders pushing between my legs all that kept me upright.
He’d been growing his hair out, per my request, and I buried my hands in it, gripping for dear life.
“I love you,” I cried out as I came.
“I love you, too, sweetheart,” he said, as he freed himself from my legs, rising. He stripped off his boxers in one smooth motion, moving flush against me, and fitting himself between my legs. “I can’t take these separations. I’m leaning towards saying fuck this record deal. You’re my whole life. What’s the point of it all, if I can’t be with you all the fucking time?”
I couldn’t respond, as he was wrapping my legs around his hips. He lined himself up at my entrance, pushing in that first perfect inch.
“Wait, condom,” I said, not thinking at all. It was just sort of an instinct for me.
He froze. “Are you off the pill?”
I turned my face away, flushing. “No,” I said, very quietly, wondering what can of worms I’d just opened.
He caught what my instinctive response meant instantly. He turned my face so I was looking at him, and the raw pain in his eyes just about undid me. “You don’t trust me anymore? You think I’m screwing around on you?” His voice was devastated.
I shook my head, well shook it as much as I could, with my jaw held in his viselike grip. “I don’t think that. We wouldn’t be doing this at all if I thought that. I didn’t mean for that to come out. It was just my instinctive reaction. I guess I’m feeling insecure.”
He pulled my hand over his heart. “That hurts me. This is all yours right here. All of me. No one else gets a thing from me, you understand? I wouldn’t do that to you. I wouldn’t make all these promises if I didn’t intend to keep them.”
I nodded, blinking back tears.
He moved back into me, pinning me to the wall. His forehead touched mine as he gripped my hips, shifting until he was poised back at the core of me. “I’m fucking done with this record deal if it means I’m losing your trust. This is forever for me, sweetheart. I want it all with you. You’re the thing that gets me up in the morning and lets me rest easy at night. I wouldn’t have survived some of the shit these last few months if it weren’t for you. You’re my rock, Danika, and I need you to trust me.”