Tangled in Tulle: Tulle and Tulips, Book 1 (7 page)

With her naked before him, knowing he wouldn’t maintain control if he joined her on the sofa, Trevor repositioned her so she was slouched into the couch with her hips resting at the edge. He knelt between her spread legs and fingered her neatly trimmed pussy.

“You’re gorgeous.” Staring into her eyes he willed her to believe him. “With your hair messed up and dark against your flushed skin.”

He glided his hands along her trim thighs and around to the tender backs of her knees. “I love having you spread out before me.” He kissed the inside of her left thigh. “Ready to be sampled.” Then the right.

“Eager and willing.” He kissed higher up and on the left again. “Open for whatever I may do.” Then higher still on the right. Back and forth, left and right, higher and higher he edged closer and closer to her swollen sex.

“Trevor.” She pleaded with him and shifted side to side, up and down, maneuvering for a better position.

When he finally reached her mound, with his cock straining against his zipper and his body bellowing for completion, he only swiped the tip of his tongue along her pink folds before breaking contact.

Lori cried out and strained upward. Instead of fulfilling her request immediately he waited until she’d relaxed back against the sofa, only wiggling slightly as her body hadn’t fully settled.

Bending, he again eased the tip of his tongue up, pressing a tad deeper than the last time. Again she bucked up and again he retreated until she’d calmed.

Rapture wrapped around his spine, gripping tighter with each slip of his tongue along her weeping sex. Patient and persistent he continued the routine until Lori could hardly relax between licks and his own blood throbbed within constricting veins and skin.

She’d always been a responsive lover and though they hadn’t always rushed to the finish line he’d never taken so long to please her. Tonight’s lovemaking was a slow dance he hungered to draw out.

Their breaths clashed in gasps of impassioned desperation when, unable to resist a moment longer, he pulled the nub of her clit between his teeth and gently nipped at her. She screamed, buried her hands in his hair and pulled him close.

He nibbled and suckled on her, driving her nearer the edge of release. Just as her quivers amassed into an almost constant stream—and him along with her—he shifted from her clit to her pussy and drove her up again.

Her fists yanked at chunks of his hair. She arched off the couch and with another scream vibrating out of her and bouncing through the room she pulsed and quaked around his tongue and spilled her creamy essence into his mouth.

Neither of them would ever again equate the sex they’d had here with her past.

Before she’d fully recovered, Lori edged off the sofa and pushed him to his back on the floor. “Now it’s my turn to please you.”

“So you’re going to marry me?” It wasn’t what she’d meant, but he wasn’t going to pass up the chance to ask.

She trailed kisses over his chest and smiled up at him. “No, but I won’t deny us this.”

“I’ll take what I can get.”
For now.

Chapter Seven

The night on Trevor’s couch, then floor, then bed had been six days ago. Six days of seeing him coming from or going to a meeting, heading out at night with Breck and the guys on his FBI team, or sitting across from his desk while they discussed budget revisions and projections. Six days of casual or business contact and not a single mention of wedding plans or the night they’d spent together. Six days without a note ending in “
Yours”
.

Neither had he made another move to renew the relationship he’d said he wanted. Brush offs and rejections were easier head-on, but when he didn’t raise the subject… Lori was getting itchy.

“It makes no sense,” she muttered to herself.

“What?” Misty asked from the doorway.

Lori waved her off and returned to her sketches.

“You’re thinking a man should make sense.” Ignoring Lori’s brush off, Misty moved in and plopped her silk-clad butt into a nearby chair.

“That would be a crazy expectation.” But a nice reality if it could happen.

“Then where is sense lacking?”

Resting her pencil on the desk, Lori looked at Misty patiently. This conversation could too quickly head down dark lanes best bypassed. “Don’t you have a job to do?”

“Don’t you have a man to do?”

“No!” Though she’d thought for one night it would be a regular occurrence.

“Ahh.” Misty studied her hot pink, open-toed stilettos and rocked the chair from side to side. “You want one. More specifically you want Trevor Masters.”

“I don’t have time for a relationship.”

“Everyone has time for the right relationship.”

“There’s no right relationship for me.” Not anymore. Trevor’s shift back to business partner had proven that.

“Oh come on. I saw your face when you got that ridiculous rat.” Misty pointed at the rat in the corner.

The balloons had died but the smiling rat stuck around to offer its maniacal smile when she needed a pick up. “Trevor’s happy there.” Yeah, she’s named him in a moment of perversity.

“You’ve named him and kept him there to remind you of the man you can’t let go. Just like you limit yourself to one candy bar from your basket a day.”

“It’s an apt name as Trevor is a rat. The candy bars…” She shrugged. “That’s simply weight management.”

“Says the short bean pole with an adolescent runner’s metabolism.” Misty plucked a candy bar from the basket, ripped it open and took a big bite. “I have to work out an hour a day to afford one of these a week and you sit here with twenty or so on your desk.”

“I didn’t buy them for myself.”

“No.” Misty drew the word out drastically. “The man of your dreams lured you to his bed with them.”

“Oh please,” Lori admonished. “He isn’t the man of my dreams. I wasn’t lured with chocolate.” Pity she didn’t convince herself with the evasion. It had been his help in the warehouse that had nudged her over the line of resistance.

“Don’t act coy with me. I’ve known you since preschool. I know when you’re lying and I know when you’ve been with a man.”

“Your radar must be broken.”

“No. If it wasn’t chocolate it was his inventory skills and pizza. It’s been six days since you walked in here with a distracted smile on your face, and even though you’ve learned the truth about Trevor’s
engagement
and his wedding intentions, even though you’ve rejected his proposal, you’re still working on sketches for the wedding.”

She told Misty too much. “These are for my portfolio.”

“And yet they’re exactly what you always said you wanted for yourself.”

Lori looked at the scenes she’d drawn of a bride and groom standing beneath a gazebo with the ocean behind them, of a first dance with bridesmaids on the outskirts dressed in dresses of the palest lavender holding small bouquets of matching roses, of a four-tiered, white cake with thin piping on the second and bottom layers in the same shade of lavender, of the bride in an a-line dress with sterling threading woven along the bottom hem and up to frame the small slit in the skirt.

So what if the groom looked like Trevor and the bride had her hair color and style. It didn’t matter that sterling roses were her favorite so much so she’d almost used one in her logo before deciding Tulle and Tulips had a more romantic ring than Tulle and Roses.

“These images depict an elegant and simple wedding suitable for many women. I’ve also done ones of lavishly extravagant events, beach gatherings and small courthouse weddings.”

“But those have been sent to the framer for the walls while you hoard these.” Misty took a bite of the gooey candy bar and then spoke around nuts and nougat. “Just admit the truth.”

“What truth?”

“You want to accept Trevor’s proposal. You want to plan this wedding and frame the actual photographs of you and him for your walls.”

“You’re crazy.” She couldn’t concoct a believable argument for herself. How could she hope to convince Misty who was so right about her? Especially when she couldn’t tell her darkest secrets?

“I’m not the one working at nine on a Sunday on a wedding plan no one will be shown.”

“Nonsense.”

“Well.” Misty popped the rest of the candy bar into her mouth and talked around it. “If it’s nonsense and I’m so crazy then you won’t be interested in hearing Trevor’s on his way here.”

“You couldn’t possibly know that.” But damn if her heart didn’t kick with excitement.

“Okay.” Misty tossed the wrapper into the trash. “But if you want to get back into his bed I suggest you unbury yourself from work and find some courage. The man’s only going to ask you so many times.”

Misty headed toward the door completely unrepentant for her lack of finesse or her use of information Lori had shared. She’d always been honest, no matter how uncomfortable it may be. It was a trait Lori loved because it forced her to strive for the same.

“He hasn’t called or made a move in six days, Misty.” She had really lost her ability to lie or hide her feelings. “How can you think he still wants me?”

“And I thought you were smart.”

“Hey!”

“He’s using reverse psychology. The classic take-away,” Misty shrugged. “It’s all about you getting messed up so you realize how much you need him. Miss him.
Love
him.”

“I don’t.” She stopped herself with a quick headshake. Her heart raced at the idea of Trevor still wanting her.

“Do you really think so? You think he could be the right guy for me?”

She wasn’t certain what she wanted to hear, and nothing Misty said would end her emotional wavering, but curiosity was a nagging bitch with a loud voice.

“No,” Misty drawled with rare sarcasm. “I think he’s a horrible match. It makes no difference that you light up when you hear his name or see him walking by or when you look at one of the gifts he’s picked for you. It doesn’t mean shit that he can’t pass through the lobby without stopping and hoping to catch a glimpse of you.” Misty moved to the drafting table and rested a hand over Lori’s. She softened her tone. “I know you’re still healing from whatever you went through all those months ago, but maybe it’s time you risk something in your personal life.”

“I can’t handle another break.”

“Who says you’ll have to?”

Trevor leaned against the wall in the hall outside the double glass doors newly etched with a long-stemmed tulip, vibrant purple in hue with the petals just opening. The artist had balanced the bloom so perfectly it seemed to quiver at eye level with the stem stretching down, with three delicate leaves.

The stems disappeared at the bottom of the floor behind white and ivory ripples of fabric and lace. The business name, Tulle and Tulips Designer Weddings, floated above the etched fabric with the tails of scripty letters just barely brushing the fabric.

He’d seen a sketch of the doors, but what he’d visualized was drastically less elegant than the finished product.

His banker—his dad—had practically wept at the amount of money he’d put into an account for her. Lori had only smiled, said thank you and set about turning her visions into reality. And much to his surprise, despite their blatant curiosity, neither his mom nor his dad had been by to check out Lori or her new venture.

The time would come though. Soon.

“If you’re waiting for her to come out,” Misty said as she exited the shop, “you should invest in a cot.”

“Work that late will she?”

“Yeah.” Glancing over her shoulder toward the out of sight friend she’d just left, Misty moved closer. “I don’t know you, Trevor.”

“But?”

“But I’m glad you’ve made this possible for Lori. She needed…” She trailed off, shifting her feet as if she wouldn’t continue. She didn’t for a long while. “Life hasn’t been kind to Lori. She’s more fragile than she seems.”

He figured as much. “And putting this business together as quickly as possible is her current therapy.”

Misty’s head popped back in surprise. “You say that as if you understand her.”

“Life stopped showing me kindness for a while.”
Until Lori walked back into it.
“Work is a natural and relatively safe refuge.” Numbers and plans didn’t betray you and when you signed checks with enough zeroes people forgave most overzealous demands.

Though from what he’d heard, Lori hadn’t quite reached levels he’d been known for and the workers on her job were as eager to get started each day as they were willing to stay late if needed. It made sense. According to a shared insight during dinner the other night, Lori’s granddad had worked in construction, so she understood the demands of the work. Understood them doubly since he had died when she was ten because a builder in a rush had cut safety corners.

“If you know that then maybe you could help her see how closely she’s treading the line of burnout.”

“Gladly.” He pushed off the wall and Misty headed toward the parking garage. Her challenge had been issued and accepted.

He opened the double doors with a grin stretching his cheeks. It was time for Lori Mullins to rediscover another part of her life.

“Oh, Lori. Come out, come out wherever you are.”

Her muffled “here” came from her office near the back. He headed her way, calling out as he went.

“Well get out here. We have plans.”

In her silence he could picture her scanning her memory for plans they didn’t make. When she sauntered out, the confusion he’d expected was rife on her face.

“What plans?”

“Ones that get you away from work for awhile.” Light of heart and ready to play, he conquered the remaining distance—ignoring the suspicion in her stare—grabbed her hands and pulled her flush against him.

Her head dropped back. Her mouth parted. She expected a kiss, and while her body, even her eyes, said it would be welcomed, a glimmer of her protective barrier—no more than a bracing of her shoulders really—stopped him from claiming her mouth as he’d planned. Instead, he kissed the pulse pounding below her ear, loitering for a moment to absorb the feel of her. Then he released her.

“Get what you need to lock up, but you won’t want to mess with a purse.”