It wasn’t his fault that I was wildly attracted to him.
“I’m stewing about the fact that I won’t get to see you wearing one of my bikinis,” I shot back.
He laughed. “There’s always the next bet.”
We found ourselves out by the pool, past four in the morning, just lounging and talking. I thought that might have been my favorite thing of all about Tristan—that we could just talk forever, about everything, about nothing. There was never an awkward silence to be found.
“So tell me about this band. I know you’re the lead singer, and I know what instruments you all play. Tell me the rest.”
He snagged one of my bare feet. I started to kick him off, thinking that he was going to tickle me, but he didn’t, just rubbing at the arch. It felt so good that my eyes practically rolled up into the back of my head.
“God, your hands,” I moaned. “You are so good at that.”
“I aim to please. What do you want to know?”
“What are you called? Who writes the songs? When can I see you perform?”
“The band is called The Escapists. Kenny writes all of the songs, composes all of the music. This band was his baby from the start. We’ve all been friends since the fifth grade, but I was the last to join up. They needed a singer, and I can carry a tune.”
“You make it sound like you aren’t that into it.”
“I am. Now. To be honest, I wasn’t at first, but the guys changed my mind. I think we have a shot at making it.”
“Why do you call yourselves The Escapists?”
“It was the only name we could all agree on. I think it has a different meaning for us all. It makes me think of magic, which is why I liked it. Kenny relates to it because songwriting is his way to escape. It’s his passion. The rest of the guys, hell, who knows, probably a drug reference for them. But regardless, the name just seemed to fit us all.”
“What were you planning to do before you got started with the band? Did you go to college or anything?”
“I didn’t. I was a bartender for a long time, and then I got into the whole club promoting thing, which has turned out to be lucrative for me.”
“What about your card tricks? You live in Vegas, and you’re obviously talented. I’m surprised you didn’t pursue something with that.”
He sighed, looking vaguely uncomfortable. “I did. For years, I did. That’s not something you can get into without some connections. Connections I didn’t have. Everyone in town can do card tricks.”
“Not like you.”
“Well, thank you for that, but any talent I have wasn’t enough,” he said, switching to rub my other foot. “It’s just a hobby, since I’ve found out very clearly that there’s no money in it for me.”
“That’s a pity. I’ve seen some of the shows on the strip. You could’ve given some of those old guys a run for their money.”
He laughed.
“So when do I get to see the band perform?”
“We should have a gig soon. Dean is supposed to be putting a few together, but I don’t have any specifics. You’ll know about it when I do.”
“You promise?”
“I promise, pudding.”
I grimaced. “Don’t call me that.”
He just laughed harder. “You told me you might say that, and that I shouldn’t listen to you.”
“I know, but I didn’t mean it.”
“I think I’ll listen to drunk you, since she claims to like me more.”
I threw my hands in the air, giving up, standing up, and walking inside.
“I’m going to bed,” I told him.
I felt him directly at my back all the way to my room.
“Me too, pudding.”
I shut the bathroom door in his face, or I’d swear he would have followed me in there, too.
I made sure he got his own set of covers, and set a pillow pointedly between us on the queen sized bed. He didn’t try to stop me, thank God.
“Goodnight, boo,” he said quietly, as we lay in the dark, backs facing each other.
“Goodnight, Tristan,” I said just as quietly, closing my eyes.
I felt a hand on my belly, and stiffened.
Oh no, I thought, caught somewhere between a dream and waking thoughts.
Please no, not again.
The hand began to inch down, and I whimpered, instantly feeling terrorized, because this had happened too many times to count, and I’d thought it was over forever now.
The hand disappeared at my whimper.
“Fuck. I’m so sorry, boo,” Tristan said sleepily, kissing the top of my head, before he rolled over on his other side, facing away from me.
The instant I realized it was Tristan, I felt a wave of nearly overwhelming relief. That relief made me realize how profoundly I already trusted this man. We’d known each other for so short a time, but already I knew with certainty that he would never hurt me.
I rolled over, pressing my face into his back, happy to have him there—a comfort to me, rather than a terror.
CHAPTER TWELVE
We were hitting the club again the next night. We were out the door nearly the second after I’d put the boys to bed.
Tristan’s friend Cory was pulling a shift at the Cavendish resort, and so we got decked out again.
We drank too much, and danced for hours, before changing into swimsuits and taking a swim in the warm pool beside the bar Cory was working.
Some brunette with huge fake boobs brushed against Tristan in the water, giving him a very bold look as we passed her.
I rolled my eyes. “So you’re hot. That doesn’t give her the right to act like a cat in heat about it.”
“So you think I’m hot?” Tristan asked, letting those infuriating dimples do their worst.
I shrugged, giving him my steadiest eye contact. I could hide my drunk with the best of them. “You aren’t much to look at,” I said with a straight face.
He threw his head back and laughed, enjoying my sarcastic sense of humor, as always. It was one of my favorite things about him.
“You aren’t much to look at,” I said again, when he was done laughing, and just back to giving me a dangerously fond smile. “But your personality makes up for it, mostly.”
He tugged on my hair, still grinning. “You are so damned cute.”
I gave a heavy sigh. “Yes, I’m very cute. Adorable, really. I’m sorry you’ll only ever know what it’s like to have a cute personality.”
He was laughing so hard by the time I’d finished that he was doubled over. I thought that I’d never wanted to kiss anyone so badly in my life. I restrained myself, just smiling affectionately at him as he straightened.
“Where have you been all my life, Danika?”
“Not skanking it up in enough bars to find you, apparently. Silly me, spending all my time working or at school.”
“Silly you,” he said softly, touching my chin. “Didn’t you know I was out here, just waiting for a friend like you?”
My heart did a slow, painful turn in my chest. It was pathetic how easily he had me wrapped around his little finger. “Of course I didn’t know. I’d have been dancing on top of every bar in town, instead of studying, if I’d known that.”
He didn’t laugh, as I’d intended, but leaned in close. “Tell me not to kiss you,” he said, when his lips were a breath away from mine.
“Don’t kiss me,” I told him, my voice a breathless rasp.
“Mean it,” he said, crowding me into the corner of the pool.
He tilted my chin up with his finger.
“I can’t,” I gasped.
The words had barely left my lips before he was kissing me.
I’d have been lying if I didn’t admit that I’d spent a lot of time wondering what it would be like to kiss him, and even with all of the fantasizing, he didn’t disappoint.
His kisses were drugging, his mouth hot and demanding, but his hands were gentle as he buried them in my hair.
I was lost. It didn’t even occur to me to push him away. This was a bad idea, but God, I wanted him. I couldn’t remember wanting to touch anyone so badly in my life.
Every touch showed me that he could barely restrain himself, and I loved it, his breath coming in hard little pants between kisses.
I wrapped my arms around his neck, pressing my br**sts hard into his chest.
He pulled back briefly, gasping at that contact, before moving his mouth over mine again. The pleasure thickened, my blood beating in tune to the waves of need rocking into me.
One of his hands left my hair, stroking down my back. He gripped the back of my thigh, pulling it high on his hip as he moved against me.
I moaned as I felt his hardness pushing against me. It was only as we were grinding mindlessly against each other that I realized how fast things had gotten out of hand.
I wrenched free of him, and he let me.
“What are we doing?” I gasped.
“I don’t know,” he answered, looking stunned.
“That was stupid,” I told him.
“That was stupid,” he agreed, his rapt attention on my mouth.
“We need to get away from each other until we sober up some,” I said slowly. “I think we’re both feeling way too pretty right now.”
He didn’t say a word, but he got away fast enough.
We avoided each other for a solid hour.
I dried off, got dressed, and took a seat at Cory’s bar. It wasn’t smart, but I had another drink. I spotted Tristan on the other side of the room. He was smoking a cigarette, and talking to the brazen woman that had brushed up against him earlier.
I ordered another drink.
“Drinking alone tonight?” a familiar voice asked me from behind.
I turned, giving Jared a very big smile. “Not anymore,” I told him with a vigorous toast.
He laughed, glancing behind me to nod at Cory. “I’ll have what she’s having,” he called to the other man. “So where’s my brother?” he asked as he sat beside me. “This is the first time since I met you that you two weren’t attached at the hip.”
I nodded across the room, sneering when I saw what’s her name laughing at something and touching his chest. “Unless I miss my guess, he’s about to get lucky.” I tried hard not to sound as upset about that as I actually was.
“He thinks I need to loosen up,” I continued to Jared. “And I think he’s a little too loose. It makes for an interesting friendship.”
Jared flashed a stunning smile at me that was a close second to his brother’s. “Dance with me.”
I agreed readily enough, though I was more than a little disappointed when Tristan never even spared us a glance as we headed from the bar and into the next room.
Jared was a good dancer, but he was no Tristan, and he had even less trouble than his brother did getting right into my personal space.
I went with it, dancing close.
His hands gripped my hips. When he moved a thigh between mine, I angled out of his range, finding a safer position as I moved close again. He was determined, though, and we were dancing close, his face an inch from mine, within short minutes.