He's the One by Linda Lael Miller Read Free Book Online

He entered me, but only partially, and the
     muscles in his shoulders and back quivered under my hands as he strained to hold himself
     in check.
    I lifted my head and caught his right earlobe between my teeth, and he broke. The
     thrust was so deep and so powerful that it took my breath away.
    I’d thought I was exhausted, spent, with nothing more to give, but he soon proved
     me wrong. Half a dozen strokes, each one harder than the last, and I was coming apart
     again. That was when he let himself go.
    I don’t know how long we laid there, with the lake tide splashing over us, but we
     finally got out of the water, as new and naked as if we’d just been created. Tristan
     tossed me the towel, and pulled on his jeans. We slipped into my room without a word,
     made love again under a hot shower, and banged the headboard against the wall twice
     more before we both fell asleep.
    When I woke up the next morning, he was gone, but there was a note on his pillow.
    “My office. Ten o’clock sharp. After the meeting, expect another mustache ride.”
    Heat washed through me. The man certainly had style.
    I skipped breakfast, too excited to eat, and at ten straight up, I was knocking on
     Tristan’s office door. The buyers and other owners had already arrived, and were seated
     around the conference table. Tristan looked downright edible in his slick three-piece
     suit, and even though he was all business, his eyes promised sweet mayhem the moment
     we were alone.
    The crotch of my panty hose felt damp.
    The negotiations went smoothly, and when the deposit checks were passed around, I
     glanced down and noticed my own name on the pay line, instead of Mom’s.
    “There’s been a mistake,” I told Tristan, in a baffled whisper.
    “No mistake,” he whispered back. “Josie signed the whole shooting match over to you.”
    I stared at him in disbelief.
    The meeting concluded amiably, and in good time. Everybody shook hands and left. Everybody
     but Tristan and me, that is.
    Tristan loosened his tie.
    I quivered in some very vulnerable places.
    “Ever made love on a conference table?” he asked. He locked the door and pulled the
     shades.
    “Not recently,” I admitted.
    “Not even with Bob?”
    I laughed. “Not even with Bob.”
    Tristan took the check out of my hand, damp from my clutching it, and drew me close.
     He felt so strong, and so warm. “If you plan on having your way with me,” he said,
     “you’re going to have to make a concession first.”
    “What kind of concession?”
    “Agree to stay in Parable.”
    I loosened his tie further, undid the top button of his shirt. “What’s in it for me?”
     I teased. I thought I knew what his answer would be—after all, it was burning against
     my abdomen, practically scorching through our clothes—but he surprised me.
    “A wedding ring,” he said.
    I tried to step back, but he pulled me close again.
    “It seems a little soon—” I protested, but my heart felt like it was trying to beat
     its way out from behind my Wonder bra.
    “I’ve been waiting ten years,” he answered. “I don’t think it’s all that soon.” He
     caught my face in his hands. “I loved you then, I love you now, and I’ve loved you
     every day in between. The engagement can be as long or as short as you want, but I’m
     not letting you go.”
    My vision blurred. My throat was so constricted that I had to squeeze out my “Yes.”
    “Yes, you’ll marry me?”
    I nodded. The words still felt like a major risk, but they were true, so I said them.
     “I love you, Tristan.”
    He gave me a leisurely, knee-melting kiss. “Time we celebrated,” he said.
    I took the lead. Forget foreplay. I wanted him inside me.
    I unfastened his belt and opened his pants and took his shaft, already hot and hard,
     in my hand. And suddenly, I laughed.
    Tristan blinked. Laughter and penises don’t mix, I guess.
    “I was just thinking of Bob,” I explained.
    He groaned as I began to work him with