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The glowing moon is the only source of light that guides my journey as I walk down the perfectly manicured gardens. It’s a full moon tonight which adds a frenzied element to the air that only heats my skin further. It sits large and looming above me like it’s watching me.
Tristan is there, standing at the end of the dark path.
No.
He’s pacing.
A lock of his hair falls onto his forehead as he bends his head and checks his watch. He flicks his wrist a couple of times, clearly irritated, and stuffs his hand back in his pocket. He pushes his hair back from his face and paces back in the opposite direction.
Iamfifteen minutes late. I wasn’t going to give in to his orders without a little power play of my own. But fifteen minutes was the most I could push myself to wait, both because excitement propelled my body to go find him and because a part of me was afraid of what he’d do if I left it any longer.
I step on a leaf and it crunches loudly in the silence of the night. His head snaps up, his crystalline gaze finding mine immediately, causing my breath to catch for a completely different reason.
He looks deadly in a tux. It hugs his broad frame, folding around the large lines of his shoulders and the tight expanse of his waist. It emphasizes the slope of his long legs. He hasn’t worn a tie since that night in the hotel and seeing him wear one tonight brings back all sorts of dirty memories.
Standing alone, illuminated only by silver moonlight, he looks almost other-worldly. Definitely not a mortal like the rest of us. His face is wasted in his profession; he belongs in expensive perfume commercials and on the front page of magazines.
He doesn’t wait for me to walk to the statues. His hands come out of his pockets as he closes the distance between us and comes to me. And fuck,his hands. I didn’t know it was possible to be sexually attracted to someone’s hands but they’re one of the things that turn me on the most about him. Every time he grabs my hip, dwarfing me in his hold, every time he cups my throat, enveloping it almost entirely between his fingers, every time I watch him grade my homework and write ‘well done’ before handing it back to me, wetness pools in my lower belly at the way the veins in his hands thicken and work.
I can’t even imagine watching his hands move as he cooks, as he does what he loves. It’s got to be a straight up pornographic experience to witness. I think if he kneaded dough in front of me I’d have to excuse myself to another room for an emergency session with my vibrator.
Unbidden, a thought comes through to the front of my mind.
I wonder if he’ll ever cook for me.
I shake my head internally to banish those thoughts. The last thing I need is him getting within point blank range of my secret. Plus, I’m not looking for a relationship anyway.
And yet.
He stops less than a foot away, towering over me.
“You’re late.”
Instead of answering, I take my nude lipstick out of my purse. I uncap it and reapply, looking at Tristan.
“You’re lucky I came at all,” I say, moving to trace my upper lip. “I told you; you don’t get to want me only when it’s convenient for you.”
His eyes track my hands hotly, his gaze searing on my lips. He’s so fixated on my mouth that I’m not sure he hears me. I roll my lips together and then smack them, snapping him out of his haze.
“I thought you weren’t trying to date,” he growls, the words coming out choked around the arousal in his throat.
“I’m also not someone who’s an easy option for you.” The words are in exact contradiction to the fact that I want to throw myself at him and beg him to fuck me.
He eats the remaining distance between us in one step, forcing my head to tilt all the way back to look at him.
His Adam’s apple works as his eyes darken impossibly on me.
“Then let me chase you.”
Fire erupts in my veins as nerves rattle in my belly. I heard him wrong; I must have.
“What?” My voice comes out timid and unlike me.
Animalistic sexual tension flares between us and a dark smile tugs at his lips. He nods at the tree line behind me.
“I’ll throw in a five-minute head start.”
I look over my shoulder behind me at the terrifyingly black forest. He’s serious. I whip back around to stare at him, my pulse pounding in my chest.
