Page 55 of Lust
“First, you’re going to disclose everything Steve has uncovered about the developers so far. Then you’ll find me sponsors to fund the upkeep of the shelter, and you’ll get all of this done by end of the week.”
My jaw ticked. “As long as our agreement still stands—”
“And you won’t threaten the shelter again,” she cut me off. “It’s a cheap shot; we both know it. I don’t want you holding that over my head so long as I fulfill my… obligations.”
I glanced at her, perplexed.
She rolled her eyes. “As long as I keep…” she waved her hands in the air in search of a better word, “warming your bed… but only by doing things that I condone. You’ll keep your promise not to… go inside me until I agree to it. For tonight, I don’t want to go any further than touching. Oral or penetration of any type is off the table.”
The immense control it took for me to mask my expressions was noteworthy. After what seemed like days, I was finally able to let out a breath of relief. I took in the oxygen wholeheartedly, welcoming the feeling. Not only was Sara willing, but she had laid down her terms. She had thought it through.
“Fair enough,” I forced the words out.
Sara fiddled with the belt tying her robe in place. My eyes inadvertently landed on it, wondering how easy it’d be to rip that thing off her.
“Would you like a drink?” I asked instead.
She nodded absentmindedly. I had purposefully taken off my shirt in preparation, leaving me in only my blue jeans that hung low. I had caught her eyeing my torso before. It remained to be seen whether it was fascination over the male anatomy, or she was simply impressed by the eight-pack I sported, but I knew it affected her.
The theory was proven correct when I poured her a glass of wine and stepped a little too close to hand it over. Her eyes widened at the proximity, though she tried to keep the apathetic look in place.
Her curiosity betrayed her, and her gaze dropped. She trailed my eight-pack stacked one over another in symmetry. I didn’t relish in anything less than perfection when it came to my body and paid a celebrity trainer an insane amount of money to ensure just that—perfection.
Sara’s thirsty eyes roaming every bit of exposed skin were worth the no-pain-no-gain philosophy I had adopted at the gym. It was so fucking hot that my dick stirred… No, Tristan, focus.
Tonight was about getting her drunk on me for a change.
What had made me a ‘good lay’ back in the day was my ability to read women. I’d get in their heads, figure out their kinks and simply deliver. It had a transporting effect on women, after which they’d do anything for me.
If I could get into Sara’s head, it wouldn’t matter how she felt about me. She’d be too addicted to care because everyone had a weak spot. Mine was Sara. So, what was hers?
“Do you want to touch me?” I suddenly asked. Sara was a shit liar, so she had decided to omit that part of herself altogether at an early age. If I wanted to know what might work on her, all I had to do was ask.
She peered up at me quizzically, having snapped out of the trance. There was a slight flush to her golden beige skin over being caught checking me out.
“Just because you are agreeing to this doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy it. You are allowed to enjoy this,” I pressed.
Sara couldn’t refute this attraction (however deplorable and sick she might find the fact). She had denied her feelings thus far, locked them up deep inside her head, but they were slowly unraveling. The knowledge sent a hot rush of blood to my groin, fingers itching to part that robe to see what was underneath. The need to touch her was escalating out of control… For fuck’s sake, Tristan. Focus!
What the fuck was wrong with me? I was dubbed the sex icon in the DMV, the youngest elected Congressman in my district, and I couldn’t play it cool around this nineteen-year-old for five minutes to execute one lousy seduction plan?
“Have you touched a man’s naked body before, Angel?” The words sent a rush of anger through my system, but I swallowed it down because I knew the answer.
Sara shook her head, glancing at my torso several times while trying to avert her eyes, too.
If she had never properly touched a man’s body, then she must be itching to experience it. After all, curiosity was a bitch.
Sara had panicked when I tried to kiss her earlier at the shelter, so I had to do this very cautiously by distracting her. Gently, so as not to spook her, I grabbed the wine glass out of her hand and laid it back on the trolly. I placed her right hand over my heart. The slight touch sent a jolt to my cock, but I kept my eye on the prize. I dragged her hand down. I did it repeatedly until I saw a hint of fascination in her eyes. Her pouty mouth formed the perfect O while tracing the curves of my abs, the edges of my waist, and the slopes of my V.
“Do you want to touch more of me, little Angel?”
The only response was her pink tongue darting out to lick her bottom lip. It glistened in the moonlight, and what the fuck were we talking about?
I took half a step closer. Her stunned expression had my body buzzing with excitement, aware of every way her gaze roved and my jeans that were too tight for comfort now. Unzipping myself, I slid the jeans down and kicked them to the side, leaving me in a pair of black boxers—another piece of clothing I had picked out with Sara in mind.
Once, she was standing on the balcony and had glanced inside my room. I was in a pair of black boxers. The way she had inadvertently checked out my ass and abs confirmed that brother or not, she couldn’t deny what she thought of my body.
She was staring at my cock now, which had never been this hard.
