Bad Things (Tristan & Danika #1) (46 page)

Still, as I saw some scantily clad bimbo try to climb on stage with him, I had the urge to do something crazy.
 

I stifled the urge, if barely.
 

Instead, I just drank.
 
And drank.
 

Frankie was no help, ordering tequila shots.
 
She was in a diabolical mood, getting me drunk with an unabashed smile on her face.

She was smiling at me for so long, and so intently, that I finally had to ask her why.
 

She just shrugged.
 
“You’re fun drunk, and I wanted to get some juicy gossip about stud muffin over there out of you.
 
That’s all.”
 

I giggled.
 
“Stud muffin,” I repeated back, then giggled again.
 

“You’re feeling pretty, I see.”
 
Everyone seemed to have adopted my phrase for being drunk.

I nodded, glancing once at the stage, which instantly made me a little sullen, since I had to stay so far away from him, when all I wanted to do was get closer.
 

“So tell me, is he the Dom I think he is?” she asked.
 

I shot her a startled look.
 
“A Dom?
 
Excuse me?
 
Like S&M?”

She snorted.
 
“A Dom is not all about the S&M, and I don’t see that in Tristan.
 
No, what I mean is, does he dominate you in bed?
 
Does he take control of you like that?
 
And is he heavy on the kink?”
 

I blushed, but this was Frankie, who’d always been beyond open with me about her own preferences, so I didn’t even think about not telling her.
 
“He is.
 
I never thought about it quite like that, but he definitely takes control.
 
I need him to, and he always knew it.”
 

That had her brows shooting up.
 
“So you’d say you’re a submissive?”
 

I bit my lip, thinking that the term couldn’t possibly apply to me, of all people.
 
Except in that one thing… finally, I nodded.
 
“I think I am, at least in bed.”
 

She snorted again.
 
“Obviously it’s only in bed.
 
What about the kink?
 
What have you two tried?”
 

I pursed my lips, playing with an empty shot glass.
 
“He’s restrained me twice.
 
I didn’t think I’d like it, I thought it was for him, but the more I think about it, it was for me, and I loved it.
 
I don’t think it’s his usual thing, but he’s really good at it.”
 

She nodded.
 
“I think you two have hit a sweet spot.
 
Miss control freak Danika could use a little escape into the land of submission.
 
I’ll talk to him about it, k?
 
If anyone knows about this stuff, you’re looking at her.”
 

I nodded, shooting him a look.
 
“I really…
really
like it.
 
He’s made sex so wonderful for me, but the restraints, and the blindfolds…it’s like icing on the cake.”
 

She laughed.
 
“I agree.
 
Totally.
 
That’s great.
 
You know, the first time I saw him, I thought he could be part of the Dom club with us.”

I studied her, wondering who the ‘us’ was.
 
I was too drunk to keep such a curious question to myself.
 
“Who is in the Dom club?”
 

She smiled, and it was pure mischief.
 
“Well, it’s me, and I would bet money that Tryst is about to join.
 
And one other, but I have to swear you to secrecy before I tell you.”
 

I was nodding before she finished talking.
 
Who on earth would I tell?
 

“You can’t even tell your fuck anonymous group about it.
 
In fact, you especially can’t tell them.”

I nodded again, simply dying to know now.
 
“I swear I won’t tell a soul, not even Tristan.”
 

“Well, him you could probably tell, because, as I said, he’s about to join the club.”
 

“Oh my God!
 
Tell me now!
 
You’re killing me!”

She leaned in close, whispering into my ear.
 
“James Cavendish.”
 

I was floored.
 
He was so rich, and polished, and sophisticated, and well, just plain beautiful.
 
“Are you shitting me?”
 

She shook her head.
 
“He’s into the hardcore stuff, though, nothing you’d be on board for, trust me.
 
He makes
me
look like a soft Master, and I am not that.”

I rolled this around in my head for a good ten minutes before I spoke.
 
I was fascinated by the idea that someone that high profile, could have such an unusual sexual preference and it not be public knowledge.
 

“That’s crazy,” I finally said.
 

She nodded.
 
“I know.
 
But doesn’t it make him even hotter?”

I laughed, because there was no denying it; even to a lesbian, the man was hot.
 
“I’m not sure.
 
It really depends on what you mean by hardcore.
 
I’m not into pain.”
 

“Pain
is
what I mean.
 
Yes, you can be sure that one is not for you.
 
Though I do hear that he is
spectacular
in bed.”
 

I let out a dreamy sigh, thinking of Tristan.
 
“So is Tristan.
 
Spectacular.”

“Fan-fucking-tastic!
 
Let’s drink to that!”
 
She signaled the bartender for another round of tequila shots.
 

“He’s so
big
.
 
Like huge.
 
I never imagined I could enjoy a man with a cock that big.
 
It was…intimidating at first.
 
I mean, I’m small, how could he fit?”

Frankie was laughing so hard that she had to put both hands on the bar.
 
“Oh my God!
 
I love you so hard when you’re tipsy!”

“Do you think he’s, like, stretching me out?
 
I mean, he must be, because we can fuck really hard now, and at first it took him a while just to work himself inside.”
 
I had the very lucid thought that I must be really drunk to be talking like this.
 

She was still dying with laughter, just shaking her head, again and again.
 

“Is that possible?
 
Could that be where the term loose comes from?”
 

“I don’t think it works that way,” she gasped.
 
“Babies come out of that thing.”
 

I nodded, thinking fuzzily that she had a good point.
 
“And he absolutely loves eating my pussy.
 
Like, he could do it all day, he loves it so much.
 
I didn’t think a man could be like that, so into getting me off.”
 

She was back to laughing hard and clutching the edge of the bar.
 
“Oh my God.
 
I can’t believe I’m not recording this.
 
You are my favorite drunk
ever
.
 
Let’s drink to Tristan’s oral fixation, because if anyone can appreciate going down on a girl, it would be me.
 
Maybe he and I are like pussy eating soul mates, because I could eat a snatch all day.”
 

I was giggling so hard that it took me three tries to grab the shot the bartender slid me.
 
“You’re so bad,” I told her, dissolving into another fit of giggles.

 
We were both blitzed by the time the band finished their set.
 
I cheered loudly as the small crowd went wild, then watched with longing as they left the stage, heading somewhere in back.
 

“I’ve only been fifty feet away from him all night, and I still missed him.
 
Isn’t that nuts?”

“Totally.
 
It’s also sweet.
 
You’ve got it bad, huh?”
 

“So bad.”
 

“Well, he’s got it bad, too.
 
Don’t you ever forget it.”

I just shook my head, unable to admit out loud that he didn’t, or if he did, he sure wasn’t telling me about it.
 

I felt someone kiss the top of my head, and swiveled around to see that it was Jared, not Tristan, as I’d been expecting.
 
I grinned, nearly as happy to see him.
 
I hopped off my barstool, giving him an exuberant hug.
 

“Good job!
 
You guys were amazing, as always.”

“Thanks, sis,” he said, and I could hear the smile in his voice.
 
He pulled back, studying my face.
 
“You’re sloshed, aren’t you?”
 

I nodded.
 
“It’s you and your brother’s fault.
 
I’m trying to train my liver to keep up with your lifestyle.
 
I need to shape up to stay in the picture.”

He stroked an affectionate hand over my hair.
 
“You don’t have to change a thing.
 
You’re perfect just the way you are.”
 

Even drunk, I could see that his eyes were glassy like they got when he was high, but I still thought it was the sweetest thing I’d ever heard.
 

The other four members of the band approached us just moments after that touching scene.
 

Tristan was smiling, not at all bothered by the fact that me and Jared were having another love fest.
 
“You telling my baby bro how much you love him again?” he asked.
 
He wore his fond smile, and just then I thought I might love that one the most.

“I was getting to it,” I admitted.
 

Tristan shouldered his brother aside playfully, moving until he was standing close, shifting his thighs between my legs.
 
I was wearing shorts, but he parted my legs so wide that I was afraid I may have still been indecently exposing myself.
 

I opened my mouth to tell him that, but he buried his hands in my hair, and I quickly got distracted.
 

He leaned in close, his eyes smiling into mine.
 
“I thought it was distracting to have you in the crowd, but I realized tonight that seeing you laugh at the bar while I perform is even more distracting.”

I pouted.
 
“Sorry.”
 
I pointed at Frankie, who was nursing a drink, and smirking at us.
 
“It was her fault.
 
She was making me laugh.
 
Are you going to ban me from performances altogether now?”

“Don’t be silly,” he scolded, shaking his head at me, and using his hands in my hair to shake mine with him.
 
“Of course not.
 
I just realized tonight that I need your full attention on me, or it drives me
crazy
.
 
I think I’ve thought up another solution.”
 

I arched a brow at him.
 
“Oh yeah?”
 

“Yeah.
 
You need a bodyguard with you in the crowd, so I don’t have to come down and break any nuts while we’re on stage.
 
I’ll find somebody before our next gig.”

I giggled, because a bodyguard sounded like a crazy idea to me.
 
I opened my mouth to tell him so, but never got a chance, as he bent down, slanting his lips over mine.
 

His mouth was hot, and hungry, devouring mine.
 
He always tasted so good.
 
I could never get enough.
 
His tongue slipped into to my mouth, and I moaned, licking and sucking at him.
 

He pulled back briefly.
 
“You taste like tequila,” he said breathlessly.
 
“Had a few, huh?
 
I think I might be able to get buzzed just tasting you.”

That made me giggle some more, and the giggling only stopped when he was kissing me again.
 

We necked like teenagers in the middle of a bar for God only knows how long.
 
It was insane, and tacky, and wonderful.
 

His hands stayed firm on my hips as his mouth drank from mine, with long, hungry pulls.
 
We’d never done this before, just kissed for what could have been hours.
 
Our chemistry had always just been so crazy, our lust a race to the finish line that ended in ecstasy.
 

He pulled back at one point, panting into the top of my head.
 
I turned, scraping my tongue across his stubble roughened jaw, begging for his mouth again.
 

He gave it to me, and we kissed like that for the longest time.
 
We ignored all the calls from our friends of ‘get a room’, lost in our own little world of drugging kisses, and in my case, mad crazy love.
 

“You’re so perfect,” I murmured to him as we came up for air.
 
“I can’t believe you’re all mine.”

His laugh was rough and breathless.
 
“I’m as far from perfect as a person can get, but I
am
all yours.”