Rock Bottom (Tristan & Danika #2) by R.K. Lilley Read Free Book Online Page A

got to go.”  
    He gave a brief nod, turning his head to address the room.   “New house rules.   Any chick that isn’t a girlfriend needs to leave.   And since I know Dean doesn’t have a girlfriend, that’s all of you.”
    Of course Dean, who was still on the couch, had something to say about that.   “Fuck you, man.   This is my house, too.   If you get to have your pus—”
    “If you finish that fucking sentence, you know what’s going to happen.   Now, clear the room.   The lease is under my name.   If you have a problem with the new house rule, you can get the fuck out, too.”  
    There was a lot of muttering and movement, but everyone seemed to be obeying.  
    Tristan pulled me out of the way as the slutty parade started to file out.   He watched for a moment, seeming to think it was settled, and turned back to me, moving against me until my shoulders hit the wall.  
    “Anything else?” he asked, but he didn’t even give me a chance to answer before he was slanting his lips over mine, hungry and hot, and just what I’d been waiting for.   It had been weeks since I’d seen him, and I was kissing him back instantly, moaning as his tongue invaded.   He thrust it in and out, fucking my mouth.  
    He pinned my hands to the wall, sliding a thigh between mine, pushing it high, until I was riding it, my hips moving in circles to rub against him restlessly.   It wasn’t enough, and I hooked my leg behind his hip, every part of me working to bring his hardness into my core.  
    He groaned, working his hips between my thighs until we were fitted.   Our clothes were in the way, but the contact was just in the perfect spot, and I writhed against him, rubbing my clit against his cock, working to a fever pitch in seconds.  
    “Get a room,” Dean said loudly.
    Tristan ripped his mouth away, turning his head to bark, “Privacy!   Now!”
    Dean muttered something that I couldn’t quite make out, but sure enough, he obeyed.  
    I’d witnessed this exchange countless times.  
    The instant we were completely alone, Tristan began stripping me.   He started with my tank top, peeling it off, opening the front clasp of my bra with one swift movement, and slipping it off my arms.  
    He went down to his knees to work on my jeans.   They were tight, so he had to peel them off slowly, taking my panties with them.  
    Being stripped was distracting, but not as distracting as his kiss had been, and as I became slightly less distracted, I found my mind moving to the thing that was bugging me, stupid as it was.  
    “You wanted her.   You were hard for her.”
    He paused briefly, then resumed peeling.   “Sweetheart, I was sleeping.   That was morning wood, and for your information, I was dreaming of you when she interrupted me.   I was expecting you, and when I felt someone get on top of me, that was the first thought that occurred.   It didn’t last but a second, though, before I realized that it was some strange woman.”  
    That appeased me, but mostly because skanky groupies were now banned from the house, so it wouldn’t be happening again.  
    The second he got my jeans free of my feet, he pulled my legs over his shoulders and buried his face between my thighs, effectively stopping any more thinking on my part.   His tongue worked on me expertly, his big fingers delving inside of me, working into a rhythm that had me mindless and writhing against the wall, his shoulders pushing between my legs all that kept me upright.  
    He’d been growing his hair out, per my request, and I buried my hands in it, gripping for dear life.  
    “I love you,” I cried out as I came.  
    “I love you, too, sweetheart,” he said, as he freed himself from my legs, rising.   He stripped off his boxers in one smooth motion, moving flush against me, and fitting himself between my legs.   “I can’t take these separations.   I’m leaning towards saying fuck this record deal.   You’re my whole life.