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“Are you done?” I asked almost breathlessly. The thickness in the air was killing me.
“Yeah, let me put on the Band-Aid.”
I nodded. He gently placed it and remained on his knees. His eyes lingered on my flushed face and then raked down to my lips and to my neck, kindling my blood with warmth. His slippery fingers slid along my thighs until they reached the hem of my shorts.
My heart was thumping against my chest as he drew closer. He wrapped his hands around the backs of my knees and pulled me closer until I was at the end of the seat and pressed against him.
My body had a mind of its own, making me anticipate his next move. He looked into my eyes, waiting for my reaction to see if I wanted this. I placed my hand over his and traced the prominent veins his fingers.
I waited for him to close the small space between us, but he only stared at my lips. Time seemed to stop, and everything around us disappeared. His intense gaze and my thumping heart waited. Just when I thought he’d pull away, his head dipped down, and his lips met mine in an aching kiss. I gasped immediately after our lips touched. It started softly but got heated as his tongue brushed mine. I gripped the seat tightly, returning every kiss as he ran his fingers through my hair. My legs curled on the floor from the dreamy dance.
No one had ever made me crave something so bad. Kissing Tristan was like fireworks going off in my cells. Could a kiss make someone lose their mind? Funny how a stranger could suddenly make everything feel amazing with just one kiss, knocking your heart off-balance and making you want to kiss them forever.
His large hand gripped my hip, trailing to my ass and grabbing me so hard that I pressed against him and felt the hardness between his legs. I moaned as his hand slipped into my T-shirt, skimming up my skin and cupping my small, sensitive breast.
Suddenly, he pulled away, as if I had burned him. Fear floated in his eyes, like that of a child witnessing a ghost among the darkness. He stepped away from me like he didn’t recognize me, and he frantically shook his head as he sat on the floor.
“Tristan?” I called, crawling slowly to where he was.
He gripped his hair, burying his face in his palms.
“Tristan, what’s wrong?”
“I’m sorry, Fiona. I’m so sorry,” he mumbled.
“What?”
Who is he calling Fiona?
“Tristan, it’s me, Chloe,” I said, trying to touch him.
“Call Adrian,” he said, moving away from my touch.
“Can I help?” I inquired.
“I said, call Adrian!”
I flinched at his tone but ran to get my phone.
Adrian picked up on the second ring.
“Hey, Chloe.”
“Adrian, you need to come here quickly. Something is wrong with Tristan.”
“Okay, stay calm and keep an eye on him. I will be there in five minutes.”
“Hurry,” I said and ended the call.
I turned off the electric cooktop and returned to the living room. I sat next to him on the floor. He was quiet, but his hands shook. I didn’t know how to help.
“I’m sorry,” he mumbled again.
“It’s okay. You’ll be fine,” I whispered, drawing closer.
I hesitated as I tried to put my arm around him. He didn’t push me away; instead, he snuggled closer and wrapped his arms around me like a scared kid.
“I’m right here,” I said softly as I stroke his hair.
