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“I didn’t like it,” she told him, “Why did I---”
“It’s okay, princess. Shh. I’ve got you.”
Whenever he said those words to her, they churned up so much feeling inside, so much relief.
As long as he’s got me, I’ll be okay. Somehow…
They cuddled a little while quietly but both their brains were working overtime and both were well aware of the other’s tension levels. When he broke away, it didn’t feel good. She felt like there was a new weight on them.
~~~Four Days LaterTristan was busy. Kyla was bored.
This apartment was killing her. This life was killing her slowly, tortuously. The cause: Boredom.
Bored.
Bored, bored, bored.She was being a selfish brat, she knew it. But she was having trouble stopping it.
He was figuring things out. Doing his research. He was still at the information gathering phase, according to him. She could feel his tension but also his focus and concentration. He had to be careful, poke around without arousing suspicions.
He spoke to Sam and Sasha daily. They were both providing information, too. He also spent a lot of time on the phone with someone named Rick, who he said worked for Kovac as well as someone who was on site at Adrian’s compound, investigating some IT stuff.
Adrian was daggered and stashed in the trunk of one of Tristan’s cars in the underground there at the building. There was an infrared nanny cam in there with an app on his phone so he could check Adrian periodically and she knew he checked on him in person, occasionally, too, whenever he left the condo.
He had only left a few times so far to go to his office during the first two days home but was mostly working from the apartment, focused on phone calls, on emails, on figuring things out while also overseeing things at Kovac Capital.
So he was busy.
And she was bored. She wasn’t accustomed to boredom. Well, not before meeting Tristan. She felt powerless. And she hated it.
They were together nearly 24/7 and he was attentive and sweet. He was giving her plenty of attention so it wasn’t like she had any reason to feel neglected. They were having a lot of sex. A LOT. At least four or five times a day they fed on one another and fucked one another. They were both insatiable. And the sex was wild. And her vag never got sore. She was insatiable.
Sometimes she’d look at him and just pounce. The reverse was true, too. And it got physical and rough sometimes as they struggled for power.
He always won, of course, unless he relented and let her have her way; she couldn’t help but want to dominate the sex sometimes, hold him down, try to bite him. She never broke the skin and it turned him on like crazy when she’d bite his shoulder or dig her teeth into his throat and he would fuck really hard when she pulled his hair. He seemed to get off on it when she tried to take control. But he didn’t actually let her take full control and sometimes she found that frustrating.
If Kyla had her way, that’s all they’d do. Fuck and feed. But that might’ve been because there was precious little else for her to do.
He hadn’t withheld or teased her about feeding from him again since she’d had that stupid tantrum. And they hadn’t really talked any further about her tantrum or the dream about the baby.
They ate, drank, fucked, showered, slept, watched movies, and she did yoga and Pilates, read, or surfed the web while he worked on his computer or made his calls.
They pretended that her irrational tantrum had never happened.
She hoped it was a one off. She suspected it wasn’t, though. She didn’t know where it’d come from, it had concerned them both, but there were so many things on their plate right now and it wasn’t as if they could decode that mystery, knowing so little about this new and improved bond they had.
With the way she was feeling, it felt like another tantrum was on its way in.
She felt like she was PMS’ing without cramps or pimples, just with her mood, and that was a little bit scary because she had no idea at all what another period would bring. Had they not noticed ovulation? Had that just not happened? She found that thought weirdly depressing, which made absolutely no sense and having her emotions all over the place made her angrier.
She wanted out of the apartment on the day after the incident with the tantrum. He didn’t want that. He told her it wasn’t safe and that he’d feel better if she was at the condo. Then he left to run to the office so she did as he asked and stayed put but pouted about it.
The next morning she’d suggested they go out together for a walk, get some air, a Frappuccino, something outside the apartment.
