Tristian: BBW Paranormal Shape Shifter Romance (Blackbeary Creek Book 2) Read online

  She worked the buttons on the plain white, button down shirt, and Tristian wrapped his hand around her long, thick hair, and gently pulled. She raised her lips to his, and he covered her mouth with his own. The kiss was scorching hot, even better than the one out on the dance floor, and one of the buttons on her shirt went flying when he gently bit her lower lip.

  When her shirt was completely open, he pushed the fabric down to her elbows, and palmed her lace covered breasts. The nude colored bra she wore was a necessity with the white shirt, but it opened in the front and made her feel sexy.

  Tristian licked a line between the lace and her exposed skin, and then he made the growly sound again as he flicked open her bra.

  “So fucking sexy,” he said, closing his mouth around one of her nipples.

  She tugged on his hair as he sucked on the hard pebble until she moaned in pleasure, and then he moved to the other one, leaving them both wet and tingling. Her pussy desperately wanted his cock, and she was on the verge of begging when he pulled her skirt up to her waist and lifted her onto the desk.

  “Lay back, sweetheart,” Tristian said. “I want to see your…fuck yeah.”

  Leaning back, she followed his directions without thought. Her head landed next to his laptop, and she bent her legs so her feet rested on the edge of the desk. Only a pair of soaking wet, lacy panties stopped her from being fully exposed to him, and for the first time in her life, she didn’t feel the need to cover-up or hide.

  Scarlett wanted Tristian to see her—wanted him to take her—with a desperation she didn’t understand.

  He slid a finger over her panty covered mound, tracing a line from her clit to her pussy, and then dipped his finger under the fabric and circled her wet hole.

  “Damn, sweetheart, you’re so fucking wet.”

  He slid one finger into her channel, and slowly pumped it in and out while peppering her inner thighs with kisses, licks and nips. Her pleasure filled moan filled the room, and she grabbed the fleshy mounds of her breasts, and brushed her thumbs against the already sensitive nipples.

  “More. Tristian…I need more.”

  He removed his finger, but before she could protest, he grabbed her panties in both hands, and ripped them off her body. She squealed in delight at his macho display, and then moaned when he filled her with two fingers.

  “Yes…right…there.”

  Her skin blazed, every nerve ending tingled, and she could feel her orgasm fast approaching.

  “Don’t come yet, sweetheart. I want to feel your beautiful pussy clench around my aching cock.”

  “Hurry, Tristian,” she begged. “I’m so close.”

  He pulled his fingers out of her warmth, ripped his t-shirt over his head, and unfastened his jeans. The well-worn denim fell to his knees, and he pushed his boxers down to join the heavy fabric.

  Holy hell!

  He looked amazing with clothes on, but nothing could have prepared her for Tristian without clothes. Every sinewy muscle was in plain sight, and she wanted to trace every line, dip and angle with her tongue. His long, thick cock was actually bigger than she’d suspected, and she couldn’t wait to be filled by him.

  Tristian grabbed her hips, and pulled her back to the edge of the table as if she weighed nothing at all. A strong man who wasn’t bothered by her weight was sexy as hell, and she didn’t think anything could ruin this perfect moment.

  Condom!

  Well, that would do it.

  Shit!

  The tip of his dick brushed across her needy pussy, and she wanted to die. She never forgot about protection—ever—but something about Tristian made her crazy.

  “Wait!”

  He immediately took a step back, and she sat up.

  “What is it, sweetheart?”

  “I’m sorry,” she said, looking away from his penetrating brown eyes, “but we forgot about protection.”

  “Shit!” he swore, palming the nape of her neck. “Hey, look at me.”

  His thumb brushed across her neck in a soothing gesture.

  “I’m the one who should be sorry.”

  “I don’t have anything, do you?”

  “No…yes!”

  He pulled open a skinny desk drawer harder than necessary, and several pens and pencils flew into the air, making them both laugh. He searched the very back of the drawer, and pulled out a single square foil packet.

  “Fuck yeah!” he shouted in triumph.

  “Oh, thank god.”

  She breathed a sigh of relief as Tristian ripped open the packet, and covered his cock with the red condom.

  “Red?” she laughed.

  “I think it’s cherry flavored,” he sniffed. “All I can smell is latex and cherries.”

  “Really?” she asked, sniffing the air. “I don’t smell anything.”

  “Consider yourself lucky,” he said.

  She knew he was talking about the smell, but she grabbed his waist and pulled him closer.

  “I do,” she said, kissing his chin. “Let’s finish this.”

  He captured her mouth with his and she melted, allowing him to coax her back so she was flat on the desk again. When he pulled away, she instinctively wrapped her legs around his waist, and he entered her in one quick, smooth thrust.

  All thought fled as pleasure swamped her.

  His large cock filled her completely, and she’d never felt more satisfied.

  Until he started to move.

  Tristian pulled out slowly, and then entered her again with another swift thrust. His hands gripped the side of the desk, and his muscles tensed as if he was fighting for control. He slowly pulled out, and then swiftly thrust back in several more times. Her essence eased his way with each thrust, and her pussy trembled around him, desperate for release.

  “Shit! I’m close, sweetheart.”

  His cock throbbed wildly, and the thick flesh seemed to thicken each time he filled her.

  “Do it, Tristian. Make me come.”

  He unhooked her legs from behind his waist, and pushed her knees toward her chest. The action allowed him to go deeper, and she cried out as he grabbed her hips in a bruising grip and pounded into her relentlessly.

  It was Scarlett’s turn to grip the side of the desk, and she held on as Tristian pushed her over the precipice. She screamed his name, and he soared after her with an animalistic growl.

  He was sinfully hot, and so damn sexy she could scream.

  Tristian slowly pulled away, disposed of the condom, and helped her up.

  “That was incredible,” he said, kissing her softly on the shoulder. “I already want you again.”

  He scraped his teeth along the juncture between her neck and shoulder, and she shivered. She wanted him again, too.

  “Me, too.”

  He opened his mouth to say something when a loud knock echoed through the room, and someone, a man, called his name.

  “Hang on,” he yelled, pulling up his boxers and jeans in one practiced movement.

  The door burst open, and a hulking man stepped into the room.

  He was taller and wider than Tristian, with dark brown hair and emerald green eyes, and he was very attractive, but he didn’t excite her the way the man in front of her did.

  Unfortunately, what she felt right now wasn’t excitement.

  Tristian jumped in front of her and growled, hiding her almost naked body from the intruder. Scarlett let a small startled scream, and used the loose fabric around her elbows to cover her breasts.

  “Oh, shit! Sorry,” the man said, turning around.

  “Get out!” Tristian roared.

  “We have a situation,” the man said. “I’ll wait for you in the hall.”

  Without another word, the man walked out, closing the door behind him.

  “I’m sorry,” Tristian said, facing her. “That’s Ethan, and he wouldn’t interrupt if it wasn’t important.”

  “I understand,” she said, sliding off the desk.

  As she pulled her skirt down, th
e realization of what she’d done slammed into her. She’d just had sex with a stranger—in his office—and one of his employees knew about it.

  Shit!

  The way she’d screamed, probably everyone knew.

  “It shouldn’t take long,” he said, pulling his t-shirt over his head. “Wait here for me?”

  She nodded because she couldn’t speak the lie.

  “Good,” he said, placing a chaste kiss on her forehead. “I’ll be back soon.”

  Scarlett finished righting her clothes, used the restroom across the hall, and hustled out of the club like the place was on fire.

  Leaving felt wrong, and tears filled her eyes as she raced to her car, but she didn’t stop, or turn back. Tristian made a great Mr. Right-Now, but he wasn’t Mr. Right.

  The real Scarlett would bore him to death.

  Chapter Three

  Tristian pushed open the door to Delilah's Bakery, and tightened his grip on the handles of the brown paper shopping bag as the cool evening air brushed against him. Though he usually sought solace in the outdoors, nothing could take away the constant tension he’d felt since he’d last seen Scarlett.

  It had been four days since his mate ran out of the club, and he and his bear were going crazy. Every minute questions filled his mind, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t turn off the constant wondering.

  Why did he leave her? Why did she run? Would he ever see her again?

  Fuck!

  Why did he have to be so damn responsible?

  New respect for his best friend blossomed as he walked down the street toward the free parking lot where he’d left his SUV. He was having trouble coping without his mate for a few days, and Ethan had lived in this hell for six years. The difference was that his second-in-command had known everything about his mate, including her whereabouts, during his silence.

  Tristian knew nothing, and the suspense was killing him.

  He’d held her in his arms, buried himself deep within her warmth, and felt her explode from his touch, but except for her first name, he knew nothing about her. Unfortunately, even though her name wasn’t common, that piece of information was basically useless without anything to go with it.

  He knew because he’d tried to find her.

  Initially, he’d been sure she’d come looking for him, and he’d ditched his office and stayed in the main part of the club on both Friday and Saturday nights. Not only did his mate not return, but he was reminded of why he usually stays in his office during business hours.

  There was no denying the club was popular, and the weekly profits it pulled in were amazing, but even in the early stages, he’d always preferred to work behind-the-scenes. It was another reason he and Ethan were such a great pair. Tristian called the shots, and Ethan executed them.

  Fighting off drunk, money-hungry, oversexed women was not his idea of a good time, and even though he spent most of his time in the back, out of sight, all of the regulars knew his face. He couldn't leave his office without gaining the attention of at least one overzealous woman, or man, and it was usually more than one.

  Still, in an effort to see his mate again, he'd endured the interior of the club for two days in a row. Sadly, the only thing he'd gained was hours of annoying conversation, several unwanted advances and phone numbers, and a new appreciation for his private office.

  After forty-eight hours, he’d been a desperate man.

  That’s why he now carried two dozen cinnamon rolls from Delilah’s.

  Yesterday, Sunday, he’d put everyone to work.

  First, Graham scrolled through the security footage of the night he met Scarlett. When he found a good photo, Tristian printed several copies and used them to interrogate the rest of his clan. All four men recognized her, but Ethan had been the only one to speak to her, and no one, including Tegan, knew anything about her.

  Fuck!

  If he’d only locked that damn door, then Ethan wouldn’t have barged in, and she wouldn’t have bolted.

  Maybe.

  Hell, what the fuck did he know? Maybe she would have.

  He definitely didn’t want to think about the fact that she might have left him even without the interruption.

  Despite being a full-human, Scarlett should feel something for him, and want to be around him. The fact that she might ignore her feelings, or worse, that she might not feel anything at all, is what worried him.

  In an effort to keep from going insane, he’d needed someone else to confirm she hadn’t been back to the club.

  While Graham looked at film from the next two nights, he’d sent the others out on mini silent search parties. They didn’t ask questions—their secrets were still top priority—but they’d combed the heart of the town with no results.

  He was beginning to think he’d never see her again.

  Another gust of wind rustled the leaves on the trees overhead, and Tristian gritted his teeth. He was tired, anxious and grumpy as hell.

  After spending most of the previous day roaming around town, he’d woken up early and went to his office to tackle the work he’d put off while hanging out in the club for two days. In an effort to forget about his mate, and his inability to find her, he’d worked until he couldn’t see straight, and then headed to Delilah’s on his way home.

  His clan loved sweets, especially Graham, and Tristian wanted to show them all his appreciation for their help the day before. He might be alpha, but he still respected his men, and he knew the gooey cinnamon rolls would make everyone happy.

  Unfortunately, the trip into the center of town had tried his patience, and the desire to shift, and tear apart everyone in his path, rode him hard. The ability to remain calm, and keep a clear head during the worst of circumstances, was one of the reasons he made a great alpha, and he didn’t like feeling so out of control.

  As soon as he got home, he was going to shift, and then run until he passed out. Changing into his bear always made him feel better, and he hoped his animal could help him forget about his mate, because he had no idea how to find her.

  He stopped at a crosswalk long enough to check both ways, and then he crossed the narrow street against the light. The Italian restaurant on the corner had a banner in the window that read:

  “Closed for Food, Open for Speed Dating at 7:00 PM! Everyone Welcome!”

  He glanced in the window and noticed the furniture had been pushed aside to accommodate a long row of about twenty small, two person tables. One woman sat at every table, facing the window, and men were milling around, slowly filling the seats across from them. As he watched, every table filled with a couple except one, and the woman sitting alone was Scarlett.

  He had no idea what Speed Dating was, but anything that involved the word dating couldn’t be good. The realization that she hadn’t been looking for him hit him hard, and pain tightened like a vise around his heart as disappointment flooded him.

  The truth hurt, but he couldn’t leave without talking to her.

  The lime green button-up blouse she wore was similar to the white one she had on four days before, only the green made her emerald eyes look even darker. From his position, he could see that black slacks covered her legs instead of a skirt like the one he’d easily bunched around her waist, and images of her laid out on top of his desk filled his mind, causing his cock to swell. Though he couldn’t help but prefer the skirt, it didn’t matter what she wore.

  She was beyond beautiful.

  Her long, thick, raven hair was piled on top of her head, and with a shy smile, she glanced hopefully around the room, and then down at the floor. She reached down and tightened her hand around her bag at the same time one of the organizers approached her table.

  Oh, hell no!

  He would not—could not—let her walk out of there alone.

  Tristian pushed open the door of the building, walked past the check-in desk, and rushed to Scarlett’s table.

  “…must have an even number of men and women, and there’s been a no-show. I
’m sorry, but because you’re the only one without a partner, you’ll have to leave,” the man said.

  “No,” Tristian barked, gaining the attention of everyone in the room. “I’ll be her partner.”

  “Tristian,” Scarlett whispered.

  She whispered his name the same way she’d begged him the other night, and hope flared. Maybe she’d missed him, too. When their eyes met, he knew she was thinking of their night together.

  “Wonderful, sir,” the man said. “If you’ll follow me back to the desk, we’ll get you signed in and we can begin.”

  “Great.”

  He placed the bag of cinnamon rolls on the chair, and followed the man back to the desk. After filling out the required information, and paying the fee, he rushed back to the table, placed the bakery bag on the floor, and occupied the seat across from his mate.

  The man who checked him in started talking at the front of the room, and Scarlett leaned across the table.

  “What are you doing here?” she whispered. “And what is in that bag? It smells amazing.”

  “Cinnamon rolls,” he smiled, ignoring her first question. “Do you want one?”

  “No, of course not.” She leaned back as if he’d slapped her, and gritted her teeth. “Tristian, you can’t be here.”

  This time he leaned forward.

  “The hell I can’t,” he whispered, vehemently. “Why’d you run out on me, sweetheart?”

  A bell chimed, effectively stopping every conversation in the room, and all the men stood.

  ***

  Scarlett looked around the room, and tried to remain positive.

  It had been four days since she’d run out of Tristian’s office, and even though she knew she wasn’t right for him, she couldn’t get him out of her head.

  The way he’d talked to her like a lover, caressed her skin, and felt buried deep inside her core, made her want things she knew she could never have. Tristian was the perfect package, and she couldn’t have him because she hadn’t been herself when they were together.

  Not that she’d had time to be herself. Other than kissing him on the dance floor, and having sex in his office, they hadn’t done anything else. For all she knew, he was no different than her horrible date that night, or the one two nights before. Maybe he would have insulted her, too, if she’d refused him…although she didn’t think he would.