Wild Child Ch. 02

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Hairy

Squinting her eyes, Faye tilted her head to scan the titles of the books arrayed on the library shelves. “Faulkner, Feehan, ah.” She reached out and pulled out a dusty book. “Fitzgerald.”

“Jay Gatsby is a great character.”

Startled, Faye looked up.

He stood with a slight smile on his face, looking very much at ease against the backdrop of muted carpet, sprawling shelves and dark brown furniture.

“I’d have thought you more of a Jennifer Crusie or Marian Keyes type.” Tristan placed a finger lightly on the book Faye held.

Her jaw tightened.

“That’s what you think.” Turning in a huff she went to the borrowing point. She took out her library card and swiped it angrily on the card reader.

“That’s a good look,” Tristan remarked, looking at the old picture of Faye on her card. She looked at it. She was not wearing any make-up. Her hair was long and slightly ruffled. Also, she was smiling. A smile that she really felt.

“It was a long time ago,” she muttered. After checking out her book and dropping it in her satchel Faye turned to look Tristan in the eye. “What are you doing here anyway.”

He raised an eyebrow and gestured around him. “It’s the public library. I came to return books and see if I could borrow any. And I saw you, bent over, looking intently at the shelves. I thought I’d say hi.” The lock of hair on his forehead drooped slightly and he flipped it back.

Faye lifted her chin. “Well, you’ve said hi,” she said tartly.

Tristan looked at her for a long time.

“You know. You’d be so beautiful if not for the frown that is always on your face. Right..” He raised a hand and slowly brushed his thumb over Faye’s brow. “..there.”

She found herself blushing furiously. “Well, nobody asked for your o-“

“Faye!” Steph came bustling up to her side, her arms full with six romance novels. Tristan smiled at her. “Oh hi! Tristan, was it? Oh, god I have to thank you for sending me home that night. I was sooo wasted. And Faye promised me that it wouldn’t be wild!” She tittered brightly, shoving her books one by one on the borrowing station nearby. Faye pursed her lips.

“It wasn’t. You drank too much that’s all.”

Hastily swiping her card, Steph ignored her best friend and looked eagerly at Tristan.

“Come up for some coffee? Or lemonade? I make my own you know. Are you free now?”

Faye opened her mouth to protest but Tristan smiled warmly at Steph.

“I’d like that very much.”

Faye’s mouth dropped slightly and she turned to glare at her friend, who remained oblivious.

“Great! Let’s go. Faye gets moody when she doesn’t have enough caffeine.” Steph took her books and led the way to the broad doors.

“I can see that,” Tristan said, looking at Faye, who walked sulkily behind them.

————————————–

“Just take a seat, and I’ll be right back with the drinks,” Steph chirped and disappeared down the hallway, into the kitchen.

Faye sat stonily opposite Tristan, in the chair that was “hers”, after years of friendship. The chair was deep scarlet and had coloured patches here and there that she had sewn on herself, since Steph couldn’t sew a straight line.

“Well.. You have.. A lovely friend.” Tristan offered. Faye felt a twinge of jealousy. She shoved it aside and focused on a worn patch on the arm of her chair.

“Yes. She is. We were ten when we first knew each other. Steph is..” Faye slowed and looked at the adornments around the house, most of them Disney-related. “A romantic.”

Tristan followed her gaze. She looked at him as he eyed the ornaments. His face was so straight, yet strangely handsome, just like –

“Yes. I can see that.” He looked straight at her. “And you’re not?”

Faye’s eyes darkened. “No.”

Steph arrived in a cloud of noise, with the lemonade on a tray.

“Here, that’s for you, and that’s your cup, Faye.” She handed a tall translucent mauve glass with a single rose like the one from Beauty and the Beast to her best friend. Faye took it absently. “Oh, I forgot! I have some muffins leftover from last night. I’ll go warm them up.” Steph returned to the kitchen.

Tristan looked at the glass that Faye held. He took a sip from his and placed it on the table. “Where did you get that?” He reached out and took the glass from her. Shocked, Faye tried to grab it back. “Don’t touch it!” Startled, Tristan lost his grip and the glass toppled onto Faye’s light yellow shirt. The lemonade spilled over her in a brilliant flush. Faye gaped down at her shirt in shock.

“I’m batıkent escort so sorry,” Tristan said, slightly flustered. He took out a handkerchief from his shirt pocket, large and square with tiny dachshunds on the edges, and dabbed at the liquid at hadn’t soaked into the fabric.

Bemused by the uncharacteristic panic that Tristan showed, Faye did nothing but watch him as he slid the hanky over her neckline. When his hand went lower and crested the tops of her breasts she looked at him to watch his eyes. He noticed the sudden quiet and returned the look she gave him. Realization dawned on him as he felt her chest heave slowly in and out with shallow breaths, but his hand did not move from where it was.

Faye covered Tristan’s hand with hers, and moved it lower, between the swells of her breasts. She watched as his eyes grew perceptibly darker.

“Who wants chocolate muffins?” Steph burst into the living room.

Tristan jumped and Faye drew back. Deep flushes started in both their cheeks.

Steph stood with the tray in hand, looking from one to the other.

“Faye! That’s good lemonade you spilled! Come, I’ll get you a new shirt, silly.” Grumbling, she left the muffins on the table and led Faye to her room.

Tristan turned to watch them leave.

——————————-

“So you’re sure that nothing happened?” Steph prodded.

“Yes. I told you. He spilled the drink on me, and then he tried to mop it up with his handkerchief. That’s all! He wouldn’t touch me otherwise,” Faye murmured, lifting a forkful of noodles to her mouth.

Steph thought for a moment, then speared her vegetable dumpling and stuffed it in her mouth.

“That’s strange. I could’ve sworn I felt something in the air when I walked in.”

Faye rolled her eyes.

“Anyway! You know what I always say. You should find someone soon.” Steph said, busily dipping another dumpling in sauce.

“Yes! God how can I forget when you remind me all the time!” Faye replied exasperatedly.

Sheepish, her best friend smiled at her. “Oh well. We don’t know what he does for a living yet, but Tristan is both gentlemanly and nice.” She nibbled on the skin of the dumpling and thought. “Well, I guess he is perhaps too chaste for you.”

Faye stared into her noodles and remembered the look in Tristan’s eyes as she drew his hand over her skin.

“I wouldn’t know about that,” she murmured.

———————————

It was raining heavily. Faye looked out at the slanting sheets of rain, deep resentment growing in her. Always, it was raining heavily when she had to submit a rare manuscript to a publisher that actually hired her for her freelance work. The precious documents were stored in a clear plastic folder that she held possessively in her arms.

She looked up at the sky and decided that it wasn’t going to stop anytime soon. Taking a deep breath she stepped out from the shelter and made her way hurriedly across the street, keeping her eyes on the ground to make sure she didn’t slip.

A loud honk and the metallic sound of gears biting jolted her gaze from the ground. The flash of headlights in the grey rain caught her eyes and she felt herself being grabbed and hurled to the side by strong arms.

The car swerved past and on, someone’s fist shaking in the distance, and Faye turned to see her folder on the floor, burst open in a large puddle specked with falling rain.

“My manuscript!” She gasped, and without even turning to thank the person who had helped her she scrambled to get the papers up and into dry safety. Large square hands entered her view and scooped up as many sheets as they could. Faye looked at her benefactor.

“A little damp for a walk, huh?” Tristan yelled over the heavy rain.

Faye looked at him in a mixture of disbelief and surprise. They gathered the papers and hurried for shelter, where they stood arranging them and shivering in the cold.

“I live just round the corner, we could dry these and you, as well,” Tristan shouted over the roar of the increasing rain. Faye eyed her waning manuscript and had no choice but to nod.

————————————-

When Tristan elbowed the door open with a dripping limb, Faye looked curiously to see an apartment that was very masculine indeed. Brown everywhere, with shades of dark blue here and there. Shelves of books, a large TV and – to her surprise – a deeply unhappy-looking pug.

“There, be nice to our guest, Kitty,” Tristan said absently, beşevler escort removing his footwear and squelching across the wood floors to the kitchen counter where he took out the sheets of wet paper from the folder and laid them side by side.

“Kitty? What kind of name is that for a pug like him?” Faye exclaimed, taking a tentative step toward the dog. It trotted closer to her and sniffed her.

“Her. Kitty’s a girl,” Tristan called. He frowned as he tried to separate pieces that were stuck together.

“A girl?” Faye said incredulously. Kitty sniffed harder and seemed to decide that she liked Faye. He dropped his head and licked her bare ankle. Giggling slightly, Faye moved it from her reach.

Tristan looked up with interest. “That’s strange. She seldom likes girls. Gets jealous.” He said, smiling. Faye looked at him, an answering smile on her face. When he held her gaze she dropped it and looked away hurriedly.

“Well. It’s.. quite a nice place you’ve got.” She mumbled, walking over to where he stood.

Tristan nodded. He looked down at her. “I think.. we should get you out of these clothes.”

A strange heat started in the pit of her stomach.

“Wouldn’t want you catching a cold.”

“Oh.” Feeling embarrassed Faye let Tristan lead her to a guest room. He gestured to the fresh towels on the rack in the corner. She nodded and he left the room.

Faye looked at the empty hallway where Tristan had disappeared. She sighed suddenly, looking at herself in the mirror. Her hair was stuck to her head and her light makeup was ruined. Her clothes were plastered to her. It would be hell getting off those jeans.

Cursing, Faye tugged painfully at the long-sleeved shirt she wore. After much aching she managed to pull it off, albeit inside out. Grumbling she dropped it on the floor and reached down to tug off her jeans. She hopped around in agony but the fabric held. Pulling with all her strength she arched her back – and fell to the floor with a loud thud, bumping over the lamp on the side table as she went.

The loud crash brought Kitty tottering into the room, her paws clicking on the floor.

Tristan followed not long after.

He saw Faye on the floor, clad in a wet cream bra and jeans. He didn’t know whether to laugh at her awkward position or cry at the broken lamp. He laughed, in the end, kneeling down and reaching for Faye. He pulled the stiff button out of the fastenings and tugged the zip down. With his strong hands he slid the tight fabric off her legs.

“There. I would’ve thought you could at least undress yourself properly,” Tristan laughed. He eased the jeans off Faye’s ankles and looked up.

Faye looked into his eyes, greyish-blue, and at the lock of hair low on his forehead. Tristan’s hand was still on her left ankle. As he caught her gaze his laughter stilled and he seemed to realize what he had just done. Almost helplessly his eyes dropped slowly from her eyes to her mouth, parted slightly on a slow intake of breath, down to where her breasts lay snugly in lace cups. Her nipples were taut against the thin fabric. He looked lower, to the light skin on her stomach and the dark colour of her panties.

She didn’t know what made her do it, even when she thought back on this day many times later. But Faye reached back for the catch on her bra and released it.

“I can,” she said in a low voice.

The lace cups fell away from her body and Tristan froze.

He caught her gaze, heated and slow, and seemed to struggle within himself. Finally his eyes cleared and he looked back at Faye. His hand on her ankle lifted and he leaned closer to her, touching her face with that hand. He said nothing but looked at her, searching her eyes with his as he leaned in and kissed her.

His mouth, warm on hers was the sweetest thing Faye had felt in a long time. He smelled like strong, heady man and his tongue was exquisite, sweeping inside her mouth. She moaned lowly and pulled him closer. When he hesitated she took his hand and lowered it down her neck to the curve of her breast. He yielded and swept his thumb over her taut nipple. She moaned loudly and he drew his head back, dipping it to her breast and taking it into his wet mouth. Faye gasped and clutched at his head. When she felt his other hand trail down her legs to the aching juncture of her thighs she thought she’d pass out with the anticipation.

His fingers were blunt and strong, cresting the curve of her femininity, over the light fabric of her underwear. He traced her ankara escort through the cotton and she bucked against him. She could feel her slickness already.

“Touch me,” she whispered raggedly in Tristan’s ear. His eyes flashed and he lifted his hand higher to slip inside her panties. When his fingers touched bare flesh she dropped her head back to gasp loudly.

“You’re so wet,” Tristan murmured against Faye’s neck. He licked the delicate skin there and stroked her gently with his fingers.

The light stroking was driving her mad. Faye arched against Tristan and reached down to pull her panties off.

“Touch me please,” she breathed, pulling him closer. Obeying, Tristan stroked the damp flesh between her legs, sweeping over her hard clit and dipping a finger in her folds. She groaned and held him closer. Blindly Faye took his head in her hands and pulled it toward her legs. He followed her lead and found himself looking at her pink folds, spread open for him. Her clit was swollen with desire and she was slick with need. Leaning in he licked up her clit with the broad surface of his tongue and she shuddered against him. Gathering her in his arms Tristan pulled her flesh closer to his mouth and ate at her, slowly but steadily. The maddening pleasure of his tongue slick and warm on her sensitive folds soon had Faye pulling him up by his arms. “I need..”

Wordlessly she dropped Tristan’s arms and unbuttoned his shirt in a frenzy. Startled, Tristan watched her undress him, tossing his wet shirt aside and struggling with his pants. He was straining against the front of the fabric. Flushing slightly he moved her hands away and undid them himself.

Faye looked up where Tristan stood over her. He pulled his pants and briefs off in one swift move.

Her gaze fell on the very erect evidence of his need for her.

“I’m not sure if this is a good-“

“Hush,” Faye answered, gripping the throbbing shaft in her hands and getting to her knees. She stroked his flesh repeatedly, looking up to see Tristan’s eyes go hooded with desire. She felt the raw strength of him in her palm, straining against her skin. Leaning in she took the broad head of his erection into her mouth.

Tristan groaned loudly, unable to keep it in. The warm, wet suction on his aching member was such sweet, painful pleasure. He looked down with unfocused eyes at the woman sliding his cock slickly down her throat.

God, what was he doing?

Suddenly, Faye felt herself being pulled up by strong arms. She looked at Tristan in confusion.

“Wha-what?”

Tristan took the towel from the rack and pulled it around her.

“Please. I can’t. I’m. I’m sorry.” He ran a flustered hand through his hair and left the room. Kitty, who had been in the corner licking her paws, got up and followed him.

In shock, Faye sat on the floor, the white towel draped around her.

When she realized what had just happened her eyes grew fierce and her mouth was drawn into a thin line.

She put on the clothes that Tristan had laid out for her and walked outside.

“Thank you for your hospitality. I can dry those myself.”

Angrily Faye picked up the drying papers on the countertop, where Tristan stood in a hastily-worn shirt and shorts. She swept them into the folder and stuffed them in her bag. She looked at him icily.

“I’m sorry to have imposed myself on you.”

“No, it’s not like that-” Tristan reached out for her.

“Don’t. Touch me.”

Faye clenched her teeth. She stared at him for a long time. Her eyes turned from rage to sudden sadness.

“I’m sorry to have imposed myself on you.” She repeated.

Tristan reached for her again but she turned and left the house.

Kitty pawed at the closed door.

————————————-

“The nerve of him! How could he!” In a blustering rage Faye tore around Steph’s house, cleaning everything she could lay her hands on in a huff.

“Well.. Maybe he has his reasons. I mean, not every guy you meet is as gentlemanly as he is, you know,” Steph offered, helpless on her couch.

“Gentlemanly!” Faye snorted, dusting the porcelain while Steph trembled. “Gentlemanly my ass! He was no gentleman when he – when he-” She shut her eyes tightly at the image and groaned loudly.

“I’m just saying you might not know the full story yet,” Steph ventured.

“What story could there possibly be??” Faye exploded.

Steph thought for a long while, trying to get her words right. “Well. I’m just saying that..sometimes there are deeper meanings behind the things that we hide from others.”

Faye stopped in her tracks. She looked at the tall mauve glass standing in the corner. She closed her eyes for a long time. When she opened them they were determined.

“You’re right. And I will find out just what he is hiding.”

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