Chapter 18: Chapter 18

Amy

On Tristan’s giant TV, Mr. Darcy storms out of the parsonage with a brooding expression. I glance up at Tristan, who’s frowning.

“You’re into this,” I say. “Don’t lie.”

He squeezes me tightly as his eyelids flutter. We’ve been cuddled like this since the movie began. Tristan’s hands often wander, sometimes to my boobs, but I’ve been forcing him to concentrate on the movie. Each time I do, his irritated groans get louder.

It makes my stomach flutter to think he wants to touch me more than he wants to watch one of the greatest movies ever made.

I shouldn’t have indulged the whim to watch a movie with him. We’re on his bed, for Christ’s sake. It would be so easy to slip off my clothes and have sex with him now.

No sex tonight. I’m not ready for my revenge, but some kissing and heavy petting might be nice.

“Riveting,” he deadpans. “High budget too. Obviously. I can see the camera shaking.”

I burst into laughter, poking my index finger into his chest. “How dare you. It’s amazing how good it is for how little they had to work with.”

“I do like the Lizzy they picked. She’s curvy like you.” He tickles my stomach, and I squeal.

“Some of the best dialogue ever written,” I say. “Straight from Jane herself. And all you can talk about are tits and ass.”

“They are some nice tits.” His gaze is fixed on my chest, and he smiles slowly.

“Tristan!” I lightly smack his arm. “You agreed to watch all six episodes. If you keep—”

“Six?” He winces so dramatically that I can’t stop the laughter bubbling from my chest, even when I want to play the stern librarian with him.

He pulls me onto his lap and nuzzles my neck. “I can’t watch something this boring with you right next to me. You smell too good. I want to eat you.” He playfully bites my shoulder.

Heat fills my belly. I want to kiss him again, but some small part of me is still afraid. The lonely teenager who mourned her best friend for years won’t be silenced. She screams that giving in to him is letting the enemy into the keep, especially when tonight isn’t about revenge.

It’s just for me.

Maybe I should stop being so dramatic. Life is not a fanfic. Tristan is not really Mr. Wickham.

I lift my head and press my lips against his. He inhales sharply before deepening the kiss. Warmth fills my belly as our tongues dance together.

He twists me around underneath him, pressing his hard body over mine. The weight of his big form sends shivers down my spine. He thrusts his hips against mine ever so slightly, and I let out a moan.

“Amy,” he pants.

The words of Mr. Darcy’s letter puncture through my daze.

~“Be not alarmed, madam…”~

I jerk my head up. “Oh my God, Tristan. It’s my favorite part of this episode. We have to save this for later.”

When my gaze returns to his face, his eyes are huge. “Are you…” He shuts his eyes, gritting his teeth. “Are you kidding me, Amy? Do you want me to die? My dick is going to die if you make me watch this series instead of kiss you.”

When I laugh, my hips wiggle against his, and he groans and grabs my waist. “You really do want to kill me.”

“It’s worth it,” I say. “Trust me.”

He narrows his eyes on my face, though his lips lift at the corners. “How about this? If you can get away from me, we can watch the movie.”

I scowl. “Get away from you when you have me pinned? You’re a goddamn football player.”

He brushes his fingers against my cheek. “You can get creative.”

Refusing to acknowledge his sexual insinuation, I try to flail my body out from under him but barely move an inch.

“Is that all you’ve got, Harrington?”

I glare at him. “I feel like a Redwood tree fell on top of me.”

He laughs. “Ah, maybe you should start working on the Redwood tree in my pants. That’s a better strategy to get me to lower my guard.”

I snort. “Redwood tree in your pants. That’s maybe the strangest euphemism I’ve ever heard for a dick, and I write erotic romance.”

He smiles lazily. “Only because you haven’t seen it yet.”

“How about this?” I say on impulse. “You agree to watch the rest of the series without fondling me if I let you see me naked.”

His whole body grows still, and I wish I could suck the words back into my mouth. This is a dangerous game. I absolutely cannot have sex with him tonight. He can look but not touch…

Or maybe touch a little bit.

His eyes grow so wide and bright, it’s like looking into the heart of a supernova. “Are you serious?” His voice is husky.

My heart starts to hammer. “Yes.”

His eyes seem to darken as they roam over my body. “Deal,” he says before hopping off me as if my body were on fire. He walks over to his desk chair and plops down on it, and a shiver runs over my spine.

“Stand in front of me,” he says. “You’re going to strip for me, right?”

I swallow. “Sure.”

His jaw hardens. “What are you waiting for?”

A heaviness settles over my body, but I’m somehow able to stand up and walk over to Tristan. He’s completely still, his eyes intent on me like a hunter.

“Do it slowly, okay?”

I shut my eyes as I reach for the bottom of my shirt. How is it possible that I’m really doing this?

Yet somehow, I don’t regret it.

“Wait.”

Tristan’s voice startles me, and I open my eyes. He jumps up from his chair and heads toward the door. “I’ll be right back.” His eyes flash. “Don’t move.”

A moment later he returns to the room with a long tripod attached to a ring light.

I cover my face in palms. “Where did you get that?”

“I stole it from one of my brothers.”

“What is it for?”

“What do you think, Amelia? It’s too dark in here. I need to make sure I can see everything.”

A moment later, the light is plugged in, and I’m blinded. I shut my eyes and groan. “I hate you.”

“Oh, but I’ll be such a good boy when we get back to the series. Now strip.”

I try to ignore the churning in my stomach as I lift up the jersey along with my tank top and pull them over my head. When I toss them on the floor, Tristan makes a strange sound. Something between a gasp and a moan.

“Holy fuck,” he says, his eyes fixed on my chest.

My face must be as red as a fire engine. “They’re not going to look this good after I take my bra off. They hang down to the floor.”

He barely seems to hear me as those wide blue eyes roam from my chest down my belly and up again.

“We’ll save that. Do your pants next.”

I try to smile but my lips quiver. “Bossy.”

“Yes.”

After unbuttoning my jeans and pulling them down my thighs, I try to hop out of them, but my legs are jelly. I stumble for a moment, but then a hard hand clamps around my arm and steadies me. Somehow, Tristan is standing right next to me, though he barely made a sound when he moved.

“I don’t want you breaking your neck before you show me the rest,” he says.

His voice isn’t even slightly facetious. He sounds like he’s…hypnotized.

It makes it less difficult when I reach behind my back and unclamp my bra. I hiss as my boobs fall out of the cups, but the pain goes away the second I see Tristan’s eyes.

He doesn’t look disgusted. He looks like he really could eat me.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers.

My stomach flips over. With effort, I keep from smiling. “You better be able to keep your hands off me during the series.”

As soon as the words are out, I want to suck them back in. What a pompous thing to say. As if I’m so gorgeous, he’ll be able to think of nothing else after seeing me naked. He’s probably had sex with all of the most gorgeous women on campus.

“I’ll be a good boy,” he says, “but oh God, Amy.” His eyes are fixed on my chest. “It’s not going to be easy.”

A surge of warmth cascades through my veins, akin to sunlight flooding a room.

Fuck. I need to harness this strange exhilaration to get me through the hardest part. Without giving myself a chance to back out, I grab the band of my underwear. Just before I pull them down, Tristan lifts a hand.

“Wait,” he commands. “Go to my…” His stern expression grows hesitant. “Would you mind sitting on my bed while you do that?”

I didn’t think it was possible for my cheeks to get any hotter. They might melt off my face if I do what he asks.

No. I can do this. I’m not the inexperienced virgin Tristan thinks I am. I write scenes that are much naughtier than what I’m doing now. With newfound determination, I walk over to the bed and sit on the edge.

“Face me,” Tristan says, and my tummy flutters at the command in his voice.

I scoot myself to the corner of the bed so that we’re sitting across from each other.

This is it. No backing out now.

Maybe it’s the mesmerized look on his face, but I’m somehow able to keep my eyes on him as I pull my underwear down my legs. Blood is pumping through my veins when I finally slip them off my feet.

“Can I have them?”

My head jerks up. “My underwear?”

“Yes.”

“They’re dirty.”

His hypnotized expression relaxes into a lazy smile. “That’s the point, Amelia.”

I shut my eyes. “Oh my God,” I mutter. Without looking, I toss my underwear in his general direction. My aim is off, because I hear his foot come down on the floor. When I open my eyes, he’s putting them in his pocket.

“That’s all you’re going to do with them?”

He grins. “For now.”

My insides turn into jelly. My boyfriend from freshman year was never this kinky. He probably never thought twice about my underwear.

“Spread them.” Tristan’s voice is full of command again.

I shut my eyes tightly. “Tristan…” It’s more of a whimper than a word.

“You can do it, beautiful girl. Don’t be shy. Show me heaven.”

I take a deep breath and slowly spread my thighs. His eyes grow impossibly wide, and the strangest feeling settles over me.

Is this empowerment? He’s staring in between my legs like he really is looking into the open gates of heaven. I never imagined any man looking at me this way.

“Can I…” He swallows, his eyes still wide and bright. “Would you let me…kiss you there?”

My belly catches fire. I shouldn’t be letting him do this. It’s dangerous.

As long as he doesn’t get his pleasure, I can separate this from my revenge. After he…kisses me down there, I’ll put these clothes back on and keep him from touching me for the rest of the night.

It’s a good thing. I’ll whet his appetite. Make him hungry for more.

Am I vain for thinking he’ll enjoy it?

No. There’s no doubting that mesmerized look in his eyes. Whatever he’s planning, no matter what he thought of me at the beginning of the game, he’s definitely attracted to me now. Like Nick has said, he has a strange kind of fixation with me. A tender loathing, somehow.

“Um…okay. But we can’t go any further. I’m not…ready.”

~Not ready for revenge~, I mean.

What would he think if he knew the truth?

“Of course,” he says softly. “I won’t push you any further than you want to go. I just… I want to taste you.”

The heat in his voice turns my limbs into jelly. I don’t know how I’m able to remain sitting without falling to the floor.

“Okay,” I whisper.

He walks over to the bed and bows in front of me like I’m his queen. After placing his hands on my thighs, he slowly moves them apart. When I’m fully open for him, he winces, as if pained. “You have such a pretty pussy. I knew you would.”

Somehow, I don’t want to slam my thighs together. Old me would have been certain he’s making fun of me.

He lowers his head between my legs, and his breath is warm against my skin. I gasp as his lips meet my clit and send shivers up my spine. At first, he just nuzzles and nibbles a little, but then his warm, slippery tongue darts out, and I release a guttural moan.

“Good girl,” he says. “Tell me what you like.”

“That!” My whole body goes rigid from the pleasure of his tongue.

He chuckles, sending tickling breaths over my skin as his tongue keeps moving. “I could do this forever. You’re delicious, Amy.”

His tongue teases and explores, and I must be alerting the whole frat as to what we’re doing in here with my moans and gasps, but I can’t bring myself to care. I’m in a dark world of agonizing pleasure.

As the pleasure builds, his tongue movements become more rapid. A jolt of electricity shoots from my tummy to my limbs, and my thighs slam together on Tristan’s head.

He grabs them and yanks them apart. “You can take it. Come on my tongue, baby. I want to taste you.”

His words are like an incantation, sending me into a magical oblivion. A scream resounds in the room. I know it’s mine, but it’s so far away. Wave after wave of ecstasy ripples through my body.

And then the world grows quiet.

A moment later, I’m lying on the bed, and Tristan’s big arms are wrapped around me. I hardly even know how I got here.

“Amelia,” Tristan whispers.

In my foggy heaviness, I can only hum in response.

“What if we kept this up after the game?”

My stomach jolts. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, what if we…spent time together. Like this. I’m not saying dating necessarily. I know you don’t trust me enough for that, but…something. We don’t have to define what that something is.”

I swallow. My racing heart is making the world around me grow more vivid. This is Tristan Wolfe snuggling me. Tristan Wolfe just ate me out, and now he’s asking if we can have “something” after the game.

How did I get here?

“Is it okay if I think about it?”

He nuzzles his nose against my neck. “Sure. Why don’t you let me know after you’ve won that ten grand?”

The ten grand he’s not going to really give me.

Oh fuck, what if he really is?

No.

No, no.

I can’t start believing his lies. He’s probably trying to warm me up before dousing me with cold water at the game closing ceremony.

But what if he’s not? What if Serena is right that I’m misinterpreting everything—the bet and those pictures?

Elizabeth misinterpreted Mr. Darcy’s every word and action, all because of an offhand insult he shared with a close friend when he thought she wasn’t listening.

I nod jerkily. “I can figure it out by then.”

He squeezes me tightly. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For thinking about it.”

Tears hover behind my eyes. Fuck, I must be drained from that orgasm. I’m never this emotional.

But I’ve also never heard him so humble before. Grateful that I’d even consider him.

“Alright,” he says. “Let’s get this boring ass movie on. I can’t promise I won’t fall asleep.”

I try to laugh, but my throat is too tight.