He pulled up right in front and led me up some stone steps to huge double doors that swung open as we approached.
"Good evening, Mr. Tristan." A slightly built man with Asian features greeted us.
"Hi, Kwan. My friend and I are going to have drinks on the back porch. Ask Charlotte to rustle up some snacks for us."
"Will do, sir." The man went on his way, flicking lights on as he went. Tristan had smoothly maneuvered me back to his house just as I was sure he'd done with many before me. As much as I found myself attracted to him, I didn't appreciate being manipulated. He was just too smooth. Too practiced. Too damn sure of himself and his effect on a woman. Although I wanted him, a part of me was screaming for a little bit of pride.
The hall that he illuminated in front of us was as ornate as I expected it to be. It was full of tapestries and the trim work was incredible--busts and angels and all sorts of things worked into intricate carving.
"Don't take this place too seriously. It is most definitely not me." He looked almost embarrassed by the opulence of the place. "I bought it because of the property--the land. It's on over a hundred acres and has a kick ass river along the back boundary." He led me to the 'porch' which was an extensive patio overlooking a rectangular pool and a lawn that seemed to go on forever.
Tucked into the far end of the patio was an outdoor kitchen and living room. It had obviously been an upgrade.
"This and a couple of the bedrooms are where I live when I'm here. What I really want to do is endow this historic pile to some worthy cause and build my own place back by the river."
"What will you build?" I watched him in the soft golden glow of the lights as he went to the bar. His movements made me wonder what it would be like to dance with him.
"Something painfully modern. I want as much glass as I can get so it feels like you're living outdoors. I'll tuck it way back in the woods so that no one can see me running around naked."
"Do you do that often? Run around naked?" I couldn't help it. He leapt into my imagination--all golden skin and hair against a background of forest that matched his eyes.
"As much as I can," he grinned devilishly at me and caught me blushing, again. "What can I fix you to drink?"
"Whatever you're having's fine."
He cocked an eyebrow at me and began mixing away while I vainly tried to push the image of his nakedness to the back of my mind. He brought me a glass and sat beside me on the sofa. He sat close enough so that his knee was touching my thigh as he turned to clink glasses with me.
"To the play!"
"Break a leg," I answered. I took a nice healthy swig of the pale green drink Tristan had made for us. I nearly choked. It was very tart and very, very strong. "What the hell is this?" I finally managed to gasp out.
He threw his head back and laughed. "It's a Kamikaze. Vodka, triple sec and a little Rose's lime juice. You don't have to drink it."
"No, that's okay…it's growing on me," I told him as I took another swallow. The warmth from his knee against me and the spreading heat from the alcohol were about make the idea of pride go up in smoke. He took his finger and ran it around my jaw line up to my ear where he traced the outline delicately and tapped my simple hoop earring so that it swayed in the lobe. I pulled my breath in deeply.
"You're certainly growing on me…" The suggestive line belonged in a script. I tried to think of a snappy retort and came up empty. He was intoxicating in spite of the predictable moves. There wasn't anything inherently wrong with being rich, handsome and full of yourself, I rationalized. But, if I went for it, I'd have some long awkward weeks ahead of me until the play ran its course. That, and I'd have the rest of the cast, plus those catty bitches to deal with. I'd have 'used' tattooed on my forehead. The men would pity me and the girls would laugh at me.
Kwan appeared with a tray and set it on the coffee table in front of the couch. It was a welcome distraction. The tray had a little dish of olives, some type of sausage and something wrapped in leaves. Tristan peeled the leaves away to reveal a small round of cheese. He tore a bite-sized piece off of the crusty loaf of bread and slathered it with the gooey cheese. He raised it to my mouth and fed me. I couldn't help but moan with pleasure as the unctuous buttery flavor hit my palate.
"Banon de Chalais," he said as he fixed a bit for himself. "From Provence. It's wrapped in brandy soaked chestnut leaves. Delicious, isn't it?"
Before I could agree he held another bite out for me to devour. This time, he stroked my lips with the tip of finger, tracing circles around the sensitive edges. I swallowed the bite of cheese and bread and broke the grip of his eyes on mine. I turned toward the table and took a sip of my drink as he did the same.
"This is not exactly the right beverage to have with this cheese…far too overpowering for something so delicate…"
He reached for my chin and pulled me back into his gaze. My lips parted with an unspoken 'oh' and he teased the tip of my tongue with his finger. He rubbed the moisture across my bottom lip. "You're lips are so perfect…" He hummed a little 'mmmm' of appreciation.
He looked into my eyes and I could see the glaze of animal passion swirling there. His desire for me was dizzying. The way he owned me with his eyes, his hands and even the sounds he made simply possessed me.
His kiss scalded my mouth. The lips that I had imagined, the mouth I had watched for so many nights was hot and wet against my own. I tasted lime and liquor as his tongue found mine. The faint remnants of his cologne left room for my senses to find the smell of his skin. His scent was all male, a spicy, salty, woodsy kind of odor that I wanted to bottle and keep.
My body reacted predictably to Tristan's smooth, practiced seduction. I felt his kiss roll all the way down my body, seizing my nipples, plucking behind my navel and pulsing between my legs. Being one of many suddenly mattered a lot less. He kissed my neck and nuzzled into my collar bone gently nipping at my flesh before returning to bruise my mouth with ever more insistent kisses.
The desire was incredible. I had watched him and mentally devoured his body as he paced across the stage. Since I had met him I had brought myself to orgasm after crashing orgasm by imagining his beautiful face pressed close to mine. Lust enveloped me like a curtain of heavy fog and I felt my better judgment blanketed in mist. Maybe there was nothing wrong with being used; no harm in just giving in to a powerfully attractive man who was divinely sexy. Hell, maybe I'd just use him.
He pulled me across his lap and ran his hand down the curve of my side. "So feminine," he purred at me like a big powerful cat. The husky depth of his voice reverberated into my very core. He traced my waist and reached around my hip to cradle my ass in his hand. "So soft you are. Delicious in every way."