Rock Bottom, стр. 22

“Is it good or bad that your description doesn’t even ring a bell?”

I didn’t know the answer to that.  “I wasn’t fishing for information from her.  We were just chatting and she came out with all of that, and then went into detail about all the crazy things you did to each other.  It just got me thinking.”

“Uh-oh.”

I slapped his closest body part, the shoulder behind me.  “And I started to wonder if you’ve been holding back on me, if there were other things you wanted to do, that you’ve done with other women.”  I had a thought.  “She said you had a threesome.”

He cursed.  “We are not fucking doing that.”

“No, no, I wasn’t suggesting we do that.  It just occurred to me that you’d been a lot more wild before me, and that you might get bored with how much your sex life has toned down in our relationship.”

His hand gripped my hip hard enough to bruise, and his voice when he spoke was cold.  “You’re being ridiculous.  It’s not the novelty of an act that makes a thing exciting, Danika, it’s the feeling behind it.  I guarantee that if I had a threesome with some chick I don’t remember, it wasn’t because I couldn’t get enough of her.

 You’re the only one I’ve felt like this with, and it’s the most exciting feeling in the world.  Nothing has toned down for me.  Just the opposite.  You’re making it sound like it’s not wild enough for you.  Tell me, what kind of things are you used to doing?”  He’d really worked himself up by the last sentence.

I wondered briefly why I worried about being a jealous nutcase, when Tristan could always manage to top me.  “Nothing.  I’ve never been wild at all, and you know it.”

“I know it?  You just basically told me that the best sex of my life has been toned down for you, so I’d really love to know what you think can top this.  What did skinny jeans do for you that I haven’t?”

“Tristan, now you’re being silly.  I wasn’t talking about me.”

 “Weren’t you?  What have I neglected, Danika?  I won’t bring a third party into this, but you said you weren’t talking about that.  So what is it?  What’s the magic formula that equals a wild sex life?  You think variety does that?  Variety comes from boredom, and I will never fucking share you.”

He was getting angrier by the second.

“I don’t understand how this got so twisted,” I said quietly, honestly baffled.  “Why are you so angry?  And I never suggested anything about us sharing.”

“You brought up a fucking threesome to me!  What am I supposed to think?”

“You’re the one that had a threesome.  Quit turning everything around on me!”

“Do you have any idea how crazy you make me?  And you call it fucking toned down?  Do you know how crazy that makes me?”

“That is not what I meant at all.  Again, I wasn’t talking about me.”

“Well, I’m sure as hell not the one complaining about our sex life, now am I?  The only complaint I have is that I’m out of town too much.  So tell me, what is it that we haven’t done that makes you think our sex life is boring.”

I said, my voice stern, “I’m done talking about this.  You’re getting too worked up.”

“Well, that still sounds like an improvement over toned down.”

He was pressing hard against me from behind now, obviously aroused.  The hand on my hip went up to grab my breast.

“You’re impossible,” I told him.

He ignored that, inching my camisole up, caressing me, his mouth on my neck.  “You make me insane, you know that?  Here I am, thinking things couldn’t get any hotter between us, and you’re worried we aren’t wild enough together?”  As he spoke, he was moving my panties aside, nudging hard at my entrance.

He plunged in, entering me fully, but then just stopping, holding himself there.  “Tell me what we aren’t doing?  What’s not enough for you here?”  He moved inside of me slightly to illustrate his point.

When I didn’t answer, he pulled out almost completely, as though to punish me for my silence.

I bit my lip, reaching back to grip him in my hand.  I shifted him, dragging his tip until it was poised at my other entrance.

“What the fuck?” he growled into my ear.  “This something you been wanting?  Was this what you did with skinny jeans?”

If I wasn’t so turned on and embarrassed, I’d have rolled my eyes.  “No.  I haven’t done this before, though skinny jeans, bleh, I mean Daryl, was obsessed with doing it, I never let him.  I never got the appeal.  It sounds painful.”

“So why do you want to do it now?”

“Just something that chick said to me.  I know it’s something you like.”

“Oh, you know that, do you?  You think I’m shy about telling you what I like?  Is that the impression you’ve gotten?”

I pressed back against him, trying to work his big tip inside.  I could tell right away that it wasn’t going to be easy.  “You did it to a stranger.  I just think you should give me everything you gave to all those other women.”

“I do.  I give you everything.  No one else got anything worth having from me.  When are you going to get that through your head?”

“What if I just want to do it?  Are you really going to tell me you aren’t even a little bit interested in it?”

“You know why we haven’t done it?  Because for me it’s been the thing you do when you get bored with random pussy.  That may sound harsh, but that’s how I see it.  You want me to fuck you like this?  I’ll do it.  I’ll take you fucking sideways, if the mood strikes you, but don’t twist it for a second into something I wanted, or something I was holding back from you.  And frankly, I think I’m too angry to fuck you like that right now.  You don’t do that angry, or it might really hurt you, though it’s going to be damned uncomfortable either way.”

I wiggled back against him, still trying to work him inside of me with no success.

With a frustrated sigh, he pulled away.  I lay in stunned silence while he strode to the adjoining bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

The shower ran for less than five minutes, and he strode out, dressed again, just minutes after that.

I squinted into the bright light behind him that wouldn’t let me see his face.

“I’m going back out to the party.  I’m too pissed off to sleep right now.”

He shocked me when he just left.

I couldn’t sleep either.

I didn’t last ten minutes, throwing on my clothes, and following him.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

DANIKA

I found him talking to Frankie and Estella and a small crowd of strangers.

I was a little confused about Frankie and Estella, since Frankie swore up and down that they weren’t technically dating, even though they were spending plenty of time together.  Estella stood very close to Frankie, her body language revealing her crush at a glance.

Frankie, on the other hand, stood very aloof, arms crossed over her chest, barely seeming to notice that the other woman was practically fawning over her.

I moved into the small circle of people, slipping under Tristan’s stiff arm without a word.

He didn’t so much as twitch, not sparing me even a glance.  His arm was held stiff, barely touching my shoulders, in fact making an effort to avoid as much contact as possible.

He was pissed.

I leaned into his side, my hand going to his abs, rubbing at the hard ridges prominent under his thin T-shirt as Frankie explained her filming schedule with the small crowd of L.A. hipster people that I didn’t know.

I watched in rapt fascination as Tristan’s other hand moved to mine, and pulled it carefully away from his body, keeping me from touching him.

He was so pissed.

Men were strange creatures, I thought.  Crazy aliens, really.

I waited a few minutes after he released my hand, then took up rubbing his stomach again, kneading at the firm flesh, working up his ribs to rub at one swollen peck.  I was getting myself worked up by the time he grabbed my hand and slowly pulled it away.  Again.