Stepbrother Studs: Tristan (2 page)

“Y-you said you need me?” I asked, stuttering and trying to pull together my shattered pride.

“Yeah. It’s why I came looking for you.” But he stood there, a hand raking his hair as he stared at my pussy.

The longer he paused, the more my confidence was restored.

“Tris,” I said, my voice husky. “What do you need?”

His gaze rose and locked with mine. “More. I need more...
focus
.”

“Uh huh.” I’d never seen him like this. Almost wordless. “So you’ve pulled Tannerman,” I said. “That’s fantastic.”

A frown darkened his brow.

“You can show everyone what you’re made of,” I said. “It’s your big chance. You won’t blow it. You’ll be ready.” And then I calmly unbuttoned my blouse and slid it off my shoulders. I unsnapped my bra and hung both items on the purse hook. Then I quickly shed my skirt, pulling it down over my thigh-highs and stepping out of it. When all my girly bits were exposed, I straightened. “So, you said you need more?”

“Yeah.” His chest rose and fell as fast as it did when he lapped the track at our fitness club.

I glanced down at the impressive erection tenting his pants. “Let me take care of that.”

“It’s Tannerman, Lyla.” He shook his head. “This may take more than a blow job. Even a fucking wonderful one, like you gave me before.”

Pleasure warmed my cheeks at his acknowledgement of my efforts—a first. “We won’t have long. I’m surprised no one’s come in already.”

“The janitor left behind one of those doorstops. I slid it under the door. No one’s coming inside.”

“I suppose you heard me?” I pursed my lips.

“Every word.” He nodded, eyes glinting. “Makes this easier, I think.”

“Easier?”

He took a deep breath and braced his hands against both sides of the doorway. “For us to do what’s needed to win this case.”

“What’s needed?” I knew I sounded like a stupid parrot, but the way he was looking at me—eyes darkening, face growing tighter—was turning me on. Was I reading more into this than he was actually saying?

“I heard everything you said, Lyla—how you want me, how you’d like me to take you. This is a no-brainer for me. I’ve never worked this well with anyone. It’s like you anticipate my every need. But we both need to be in this game.”

“So you think I need a pep talk, too?”

His mouth quirked up at one side. “If that’s what you want to call it. I want to call it fucking, Lyla. We need to fuck, get it all out there. No more dancing around each other, pretending I need you to blow me in order to win, or that you’re providing me a service. I need you to blow me because I want you to. Working with you every day has been driving me bat-shit crazy.”

My belly began to quiver. “How long do we have?”

“Long enough,” he said, his voice roughening. His hands went to his belt, and he opened it. He had his trousers around his thighs in under ten seconds.

“We’ll mess up your clothes.”

“I’m not waiting to strip.” He held out his hand. “Come over here.”

I placed my hand inside his, knowing he could feel it tremble, and let him draw me closer.

Standing chest to chest, I glanced upward. His head bent. Our mouths met for the first time. I whimpered when his tongue stroked my lip, and I opened, letting it plunge inside me the same way I wanted his cock inside my body.

His hands clutched my ass, and he lifted me. I quickly wrapped my legs around his hips. Still kissing, and with his cock trapped against my cunt, he walked with me past the stalls to the counter with the sinks and set me on the edge.

His gaze cut from mine to the mirror behind me.

“You can see my ass, right?”

“It’s a lovely ass,” he said, rubbing his dick against my slit.

“Why, thank you, counselor.” When he backed away a few inches, I glanced down to watch him fit the tip of his cock against my entrance. I leaned back and unclasped my thighs from around him so I could widen them and watch as he stroked inside.

He slid like butter into my moist channel.

“Oh fuck,” I whispered, resettling myself and leaning a little farther back. Now he could stroke without banging his balls against the counter.

“What do you think you’ll need to change?” I gasped as he gave me another stroke.

“Change?”

I reached up and gently slapped his face. “About your approach, now that Tannerman will be there.”

“How do you do this?” He frowned.

“What?”

“Talk intelligently while you’re blowing me?”

“Multi-tasking.” I allowed myself a grin. “We women are better at it.”

He shook his head and deepened his thrusts. “Doesn’t seem fair.
Tannerman
. Nothing, I guess. We have the goods. Know which jurors to concentrate on.” He fucked me again, and then leaned his forehead against mine. “Just so you know. I’ve dreamed about fucking you since the day you sat across the table and told me you didn’t need a brother.”

“Then we’re even. I’ve been horny for you just as long.”

“You were fourteen.” His eyebrows rose.

My gaze narrowed. “You were seventeen. Who was the perv?”

“Christ, I never knew you were such a mouthy bitch.”

“Sure you did,” I said, leaning back and shaking my tits. “Did you jerk off much thinking about these?”

He groaned and humped faster. “Last night. This morning when I showered. I hoped you’d invite me again.” He leaned over me, still stroking, and took a nipple in his mouth. “Christ, how I’ve wanted to suck on your tits.”

I let my head fall backward and savored the strong pull of his lips. “I’ve wanted it, too, every time I let the girls out for you to ride.”

He braced his hands on either side of me and circled his hips, rimming my opening as he pulsed deeper inside. “Later... tonight... I want a bed under your knees.”

“I want your mouth on my pussy and your cock down my throat.”

“We want so many things.” He grinned. “Why the fuck did we wait so long?”

I laughed. Sure, the sound was broken by his vigorous thrusts, but it rang loudly inside the restroom.

“Tris, we were waiting for Tannerman. Or someone like him. You needed a big push, something to strive hard for. And I needed to be needed by you. I’m never so turned on as when I’m giving you
what
you need,
when
you need it, and precisely
how
you need it.”

His rhythm slowed as he gave me long, lunging strokes. “So fucking hot, sis. So fucking there.”

His thrusts were jiggling my breasts, something I noted with amusement.

His gaze lifted from my tits to my eyes. “I used to sneak peeks of those beauties. Ever since you sprouted.”

“You didn’t sneak a thing. I let you watch. Think I really needed help hooking my bra?”

“So every time it slid down your arms...?”

I widened my eyes to give him the same innocent look I had back then.

“I’ve been played.” He growled. “No one’s ever fooled me before.”

“Guess that makes me your direct competition.”

“Think you can best me in court?”

“Aren’t you glad we’ll never really know? I don’t intend to ever leave your team.” I wanted to swallow my tongue the moment those words left my mouth. I’d revealed too much. Broken the girlfriend rule. I’d talked about the future.

But Tristan only smiled. “I won’t let you ever leave.”

My vision blurred for a moment, but then he rutted harder, driving so deep I hissed and wriggled. “Harder. You have to go for it. Be the best, Tristan.”

He pulled free and gripped my waist, setting me on my feet, then quickly spinning me so that I faced the mirror. Then he pressed my lower back, bending me at the waist, forcing my tits against the cool counter.

When he came into me again, he was deeper, going harder.

I rose on my toes and tilted my ass. “That’s it. You can do this. Fuck Tannerman. He’s not the one plowing a partner before court.”

“Damn straight. He couldn’t make you come like this, could he?” he said, reaching around me to pinch my rigid clit.

I let a keening cry and pleasure exploded. Through my slitted eyes, I watched as he pounded me again, then stiffened, head flung back. We both hung there in the moment, our gazes meeting, raking our bodies—connected now.

“You ready?” I asked when he finally halted his movements.

“Let’s do this.” His chest heaved.

We pulled apart, and I went back to the stall to gather my clothing. We washed and dressed. At the door, he pressed a quick, hard kiss on my mouth. “We win, I get to decide what’s next.”

He wanted a challenge. “You lose, and I won’t let you fuck my tits for a month.”

When we opened the door of the restroom, there was a line of women giving us dirty glares, until they their gazes fell on Tristan’s taut face. Then there were glints of speculation, a few wry smiles. For the first time ever, I felt like a rock star as I strode to the courtroom.

* * * *

While Tannerman wasn’t acquitted, he also didn’t spend a night in jail. Without proof he’d run a red light, the answer to what the proximate cause for the crash was became muddied.

The client was happy. And generous. Tristan was smug.

“I won.”

“Sort of,” I said, eyeing his stretching grin.

“I get to decide what’s next.”

I drew a deep breath. The words were a little vague. We were at his place, but he could be deciding which restaurant we’d go to for a celebration. Or maybe he’d decide who did the riding during sex.

I hoped he elected to have sex, but I also wanted more. I wanted to know what was really next for us—whether there really was an
us
. But I hadn’t won the prize. I hopped onto the kitchen counter and watched as he drew a bottle of pinot noir from the side-by-side.

He removed the cork and poured two glasses, then walked over to me, his eyes alert and studying me.

I took the glass and waited as he clinked his against mine.

“To us.”

“To us,” I said, again parroting him. I drank a large gulp.

“Thirsty?” he said, arching his brow.

I shrugged.

He took my glass and set it beside his on the counter. Then he moved in closer, his hands and body trapping me there. “I prefer you naked, Lyla.”

“And I prefer the toilet seat down.”

He tsked and shook his head. “Tonight, I get things my way. I won.”

I moved closer so that our faces were only inches apart. “You’re crowding me,” I whispered.

His gaze narrowed, but he backed away. I hopped down, strode toward the kitchen door, and paused to give him a glance over my shoulder. “You did say you wanted a bed beneath my knees.”

* * * *

I’d been naked and on all fours, my knees on the edge of the mattress for a good five minutes before he walked into his bedroom. Not that I let him know I’d been a bundle of nerves, anticipation fueling my heat.

He was silent as he moved to his walk-in closet.

I followed his progress from the corner of my eye as he toed off his dress shoes and stripped, tossing everything into the laundry basket.

And then he disappeared from sight, going deeper into his closet. When he returned, he was carrying something that had a lot of long tassels.

Moisture gathered at my pussy.

“I’ve had this a long time,” he said, coming closer and reaching out to trail the long leather strands down the center of my back. “Waiting for just the right moment.”

I gave a little gasp, then steeled myself against the pleasure. I had to give him a little resistance, otherwise his victory would feel hollow.

He lifted it from my skin then swatted my ass.

I rocked forward, shocked and thrilled. The lash stung, but nothing I couldn’t handle. He swatted the other side, then tossed it away. “Damn, I want to use my hands, Lyla. Will you let me spank you with my hands?”

“You won,” I said, my voice husky.

“Just making sure.” Standing beside me, he rubbed one cheek then spanked it.

He swatted the same spot again, and my eyelids drifted down. The sting was sublime. I eased my thighs farther apart and let my head hang, relaxing into the pose as he peppered my ass with smacks—some hard, some gentle.

“Do you know why I’m doing this?”

I roused and gave a thin, “Mmmm?”

“You’re a tease.” He smoothed his hand over my skin, rubbed in a circle, then spanked the spot he’d soothed. “You negotiated like a pro, saying you were giving me a service, in the same vein as those thick reports you put together, like it was just another duty. And yet... I could tell you wanted me. That’s why I allowed it.” He smoothed and spanked me again. Then moved behind me.

He pressed a kiss against one very warm spot. “I hoped, given time, that you’d have the courage to tell me you wanted more from me. But then, I thought maybe, that’s all you wanted—to handle me and zip me up. Take me out for your pleasure and never feel guilty about leading me on, because you weren’t.”