AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Slipping it on, I let it fall halfway down my legs and slid on a pair of loose socks. I wanted to curl up on my bed and sleep like the dead, but I respected Flynn and Ry too much to blow them off. They were right—they did deserve some answers. My energy waning, I dragged myself back to the deck with heavy feet, and I headed straight for the lounge.
A familiar head of dark hair was waiting for me there. Tristan.
I schooled my surprise and sat opposite him in my usual spot next to Flynn. Tristan’s stare bored into me with an intensity that sucked the breath from my lungs. I was suddenly awake. My nipples peaked, and a shiver stole through me as my cunt clenched, instinctively wanting to be filled. Fuck, I loved being the centre of his attention.
Tearing my gaze away from him, I focussed on Ry. Unlike Tristan’s intense stare that whispered heat and promised sex, Ry’s was angry. He glared at me, his lips pressed in a straight line and his back rigid. I hated that he was being like this, but I shouldn’t have expected anything different. Ry had always acted like a big brother, and the resulting clusterfuck from this afternoon’s quick trip was bound to grate on his nerves.
I sighed and focussed my attention back on Tristan.
“Why are you here?” I asked him, a note of caution slipping into my voice as I reached for Flynn’s hand. He shifted closer, his warm fingers curling around mine as he lent me his comfort.
Could Tristan have changed his mind? He’d shown up at the police station, he’d organized a lawyer for us… so maybe there was hope. But was it just concern for his reputation and what an arrest would mean for the podcast?
It was more than possible he didn’t give a fuck about our wellbeing.
Flynn shifted so he sat sideways on the couch. Tugging on my hip, he spread his legs and positioned me until I was sitting with my back to his front. I leaned against him, my head resting on his shoulder as he undid my hair from its messy top knot and ran his fingers through it. He then massaged my scalp, neck, and shoulders, and I groaned as he found all the knots in my muscles, his talented fingers working them out.
Murmuring in my ear, he encouraged, “Listen to what he has to say, Zee.”
“I’m sorry,” Tristan started before dropping his gaze and staring at his interlaced fingers. His elbows were resting on his spread knees, his back hunched over. “I got scared and I ran. I’ve shielded myself from anything and everything that could bite me in the arse for a long time—”
“That’s no fun,” Flynn interjected playfully. “I like biting you.”
Tristan’s chuckle and reluctant smile warmed my heart. Flynn was good at both diffusing tension and reading Tristan. He knew what the man needed without even having to ask.
But the comment just seemed to incense Ryder. His eyes flashed as he ground his teeth, his jaw bulging as he shifted in his seat. He looked like a lion ready to ambush its prey. And when that prey was caught, there would be no surviving the onslaught.
“Yeah, I like your bites too, angel,” Tristan murmured, his voice dropping an octave and taking on a sexy rasp. After clearing his throat, he continued, “When I realized the extent of what you do, Zali, I freaked the fuck out. I mean, I knew—” He gestured to the yacht. “How couldn’t I? I’m not a complete idiot, but I let myself be blind to it because there was something I wanted more.”
Ry’s unimpressed grunt caught Tristan’s attention, and he turned to my right-hand man.
Without meeting Ry’s gaze, he explained, “I’m not who you think I am, Ryder.” He shook his head and huffed. His self-disgust was blatant even to Ry judging by the way his head snapped up to look at Tristan.
“When I was in my twenties, I served six months for being an accessory after the fact to a break and enter and stealing a car, possession—weed—and unlawful use of a motor vehicle. We had an accident that stopped the whole train wreck. But yeah, jail… wasn’t fun.”
He visibly swallowed, and Ry’s scowl softened, a glimmer of concern escaping his stony façade. Ry reached out, squeezing Tristan’s shoulder.
He snatched his hand away the second Tristan looked up.
Ry narrowed his eyes, his lips thinning into a feral snarl.
Their stares locked.
Tristan inhaled sharply, his body swaying toward Ry.
Desire radiated off Tristan, his parted lips just begging to be kissed.
They were like tinder and a match. Incendiary. Get close enough and they would ignite and as with a wildfire, burn hotter than hell.
But would they fight or fuck?
Ry was the one to break their stare, turning away to study the deck at his feet.
Tristan shifted minutely, subtly adjusting himself. I shivered, and not because of the cool evening breeze washing over the deck.
His sigh snapped the focus back to his story. “It was awful, every day worse than the one before. I was easy prey, but it was mostly taunting. They were trying to scare the shit out of me rather than dishing out beat downs. Still, that kind of mind-fuckery does a number on you.”
“Then things changed. Another inmate pissed off my cellmate, and he took it out on me. I was assaulted two weeks shy of being released. It put me in the infirmary for a week before they shifted me back to my cell. The last week I was in there was a waking nightmare. I’ve never been more terrified in my life. I was just waiting for him to come and finish me off.”
