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She couldn’t see him reel back, but she felt it. His hands left her lap, baring her to the cold air. “You’ve had boyfriends. A lot of them.”
“Not that many.” She knew she sounded defensive. “And I could’ve dated a battalion, but I didn’t let them in my pants.” Her face flamed. “Well, beyond certain things.”
“Trust me, Cait, now’s not the time for that,” Matt said, humor lacing his tone. “Just stick with the virgin line.”
“It’s not a line. I was waiting.”
“For what?” Tristan asked, each word heavy with weariness.
“For both of you.” She closed her eyes behind the blindfold. “And you know what? You’re taking way too fucking long.”
The silence that descended threatened to eat away at her sanity. She knew they were looking at each other, wordlessly communicating in that way they had. A way she would never be privy to.
“You heard the lady,” Matt said. “So are you going to finish undressing her or am I?”
Chapter 5
A virgin.
Tristan stared at Matthew, still shocked into inaction. Coming in here to find Caity tied up had been bad enough. Now this.
He started to speak, but Caity cut him off. “So help me God, Tristan, if you ask me if I’m sure or tell me I don’t need sex, I’ll knee you hard enough to make Matthew cry. I’m not a delicate little flower, damn you. You saved me once. You don’t have to keep doing it over and over again, Hero.”
Delicate little flower. He almost snorted at that. Looking at her right now—hands bound, eyes covered, and legs spread wantonly, revealing the damp spot on her lacy red panties—delicate was not the word he had in mind.
Saving her wasn’t at the top of his list either. Back when he’d acted as her rescuer at her first frat party, he’d seen her as just a cute kid, two years younger than most of her classmates. She’d graduated early from high school, though she’d been determined to do whatever her friends did. Drink, flirt shamelessly, tease guys.
When he’d stepped in before that teasing went too far, he’d taken her back to his room and let her sleep off the booze. She’d awakened embarrassed and grateful, sparking one of the truest, deepest friendships he’d ever had.
And now he was risking it.
“You really want to know what I think you are?” he asked as he returned to her chair and knelt down again.
“Tris—”
He laid a finger over her lips, and she ground her teeth together. In a minute, she’d be biting him.
He couldn’t wait.
“Matt’s not interrupting me, but you are. Know why? Because he’s seen me in ways you haven’t. When the civility’s stripped away and there aren’t words left. The way you’re going to see me soon enough. If we let you watch.” He took immense satisfaction in the slackening of her jaw. “That’s dependent on how much talking you do between now and then. We have ways of keeping you quiet. If you think we won’t…well, you’re thinking wrong.”
Her lips parted as if she were about to speak. Then she pursed her mouth and waited.
He glanced over his shoulder at Matt, who hooked his thumbs in the pockets of his jeans and grinned. “Get her naked, Tris.”
Tristan turned back to Caity and undid the buttons of her coat. Once he’d pulled the panels open to reveal her winter white sweater, he traced the delicate chain at her neck. She shuddered. He drew his fingertip down the valley between her breasts, over the soft rise of her belly to the waistband of her skirt. He recognized it as one of the shortest she owned.
How many times had she teased his dick into brutal awareness with a glimpse of her in that ass-sculpting skirt? Too many times. Tonight, she’d pay for every one of them.
He hooked his fingers in her waistband and tugged. She helped, lifting her hips to make it easier. Oh yeah, she was ready for them. Finally.
Once he’d pulled the skirt free of her body, he tossed it aside and swallowed hard at the sight of her skimpy panties. That taunting strip of wet right down the center had only grown while he undressed her.
“You said you’ve done things,” he murmured, grazing her moisture with the pad of his finger. “Like what?”
“Wh-what do you mean?”
“What have you let men do to you, Caity?”
