Page 66 of Paradise in Progress
A loud crack pierces the room as a flash of pain hits my ass cheek, and it’s all I need to fall over the edge. I continue circling my clit as I come hard, holding back a scream as my body shudders beneath him. Riding out every bit of pleasure I can, I’m desperate to close my eyes, but instead, I risk a glance and am so glad I did.
Standing behind me is the gorgeous specimen of a man I’m nearly bringing to his knees. Tristan’s hands are on both of my hips as he thrusts unabashedly inside of me. His head tilts toward the ceiling, eyes closed, and the look of raw desire transforms his features.
“Your pussy is squeezing me so goddamn tight.”
With a final pump and dragged-out moan, I feel him pulse inside of me. A thrill runs through me at the realization that I gave him that much pleasure.
Tristan collapses across my back, but not before he catches his weight with his arms. He peppers soft kisses across my neck before he stands up and slides out. Instantly, I feel empty and ready for him again.
“You’re fucking perfect, Firecracker.”
Chapter twenty-six
Tristan
It hit me likelooking at a blueprint I’d been staring at for years.
I’m in love with Kennedy Reed.
As I stared at her blushed cheeks, it was like I was looking at the final piece of a project falling into place. She wasn’t just a part of my life; she was the design I’d been looking for all along.
Now I can only hope she feels the same.
Chapter twenty-seven
Kennedy
Rolling over, my handconnects with the cool side of a pillow. A pillow that’s supposed to be occupied by Tristan. Blinking my eyes, I adjust to the morning light streaming in through the doors and find the other side of my bed empty. I’m hit with a brief sense of disappointment that I’m waking up alone on Christmas morning. The notion is silly, but I can’t help feeling like I do. Somewhere over the last four weeks, my feelings have shifted drastically for Tristan.
I think I’ve fallen in love with him.
And clearly, I’m alone in that.
Tossing the covers aside, I roll out of bed and adjust my silk nightgown before padding across the floor to the bathroom. The smell of freshly brewed coffee wafts from the kitchen, letting me know where Tristan ran off to. After running through my morning routine and savoring the fresh, minty taste in my mouth, I grab my phone off my nightstand and head toward the caffeine.
I’m scrolling through the ‘Merry Christmas’ wishes and chuckle when I find my sister’s.
Liv: Merry Christmas you little ho, ho, ho! I hope you’re decking his halls and jingling his balls—I mean, bells—under that tropical sun. Don’t forget to unwrap your ‘present’ slowly…
Me: Ha. ha. Ha. Merry Christmas, Liv. Miss you! Love you!
I realize how dark the space is when I close my screen—well, in comparison to how it should be. My eyes move over to the side of the room, where I notice all the blinds are drawn on the windows and doors. Continuing my perusal, I gasp at the small Christmas tree in the corner of the living area that glows with white lights. Moisture gathers in my eyes as I notice the simple winter wonderland scattered around the room. A few presents are wrapped underneath the tree in red-and-white plaid paper.A Christmas Storyplays on the TV and large white candles are lit on the coffee table. It’s simple and perfect.
“Trist,” I whisper, moving closer to where he’s sitting on the couch.
His back is against the armrest, which gives him the perfect view of my reaction. A sheepish smile curves the corner of his lips, and he’s wearing those damn wide-rimmed black glasses again.
And, of course, he’s not wearing a shirt.
If it weren’t for the Christmas tree pulling my entire attention, I’d be drinking him in like a tall glass of water, because the man is fine. Especially bare chested with glasses.
He chews on his lower lip as he runs his fingers through his hair. Is Tristan nervous? “Do-do you like it?”
“Do I like it?” I walk around the edge of the couch until I’m standing above him. Bending down, I place a chaste kiss on his lips, tasting the coffee. “I love it.”
His face breaks out in a beaming smile, one that would rival, well…a kid on Christmas. “I was nervous you wouldn’t.”
“Why wouldn’t I like it?”
