The Good Girl's Bad Side

Chapter 44: Now that's what I call a snack

Chapter 44: Now that's what I call a snack

"Mom! Dad!" Tristan's voice floods the vast house, travelling to some corners and faintly echoing back.

"Why did you yell?" I ask him.

"Felt like it." He shrugs.

"I'll be in the kitchen to grab a snack then we'll head out." I say as I walk to the kitchen.

"Do we really have to go?" Tristan's whine earn an eye roll from me.

"Yes." I grab a tub of nutella ice-cream out of the freezer and I lift myself up to sit on the kitchen island.

"That is not a snack." Tristan points to the tub in my hand.

"Yes, it is. Now, hand me a spoon."

With an eye roll, Tristan trudges to the utensils drawer and pulls out a silver spoon, then hands it to me.

Without wasting a second, I remove the lid and I immediately dig in. I pop the spoon of delicacy into my mouth and the delicious flavour begins to perform its traditional moon walk on my tongue. A moan escapes my mouth in delight and I pop another spoon into my mouth.

"Keep on doing that and soon the next moan will be because of me." Tristan winks at me and I gag at the innuendo, unable to speak because of the ice-cream in my mouth.

"In your dreams Loverboy." I say after clearing my mouth.

"You don't want to know what happens in my dreams Angel." He wiggles his eyebrows seductively.

"Eww."

"I can show you, you know?" He steps closer to me so that his partly positioned in between my legs.

"I don't want you to." I shake me head.

"Are you sure?" His voice ignites sparks in me and they seem to be getting out of control. He steps even closer so that his perfectly positioned in between my legs, and he rests his hands on both of my thighs, tracing patterns on them. I can only concentrate on the patterns that seem to be somersaulting in my mind, doing things that don't need to be done. By now I can't even lift one more spoon of ice cream to my lips; this fine specimen is too distracting.

"Yes, I'm sure." Luckily I don't stutter.

"Really?" He smiles before hiding his face in the crook of my neck, but what suprises me is his warm lips tracing my skin.

"Tristan..." I whine, but nonetheless enjoying the feeling.

"Mmm?" He doesn't make the effort of stopping but even continues to suck on my skin. His hands caress my thighs, and the thin material covering my legs conducts the heat from his hands, leaving me hot under his touch.

"P-please stop." I bite my lips to hold back a moan. He continues to explore my neck and he pulls my closer so that I wrap my legs around his waist. My hands automatically wrap themselves around his neck and my one hand tugs his hair. His hands find my skin under my shirt and he pulls me even closer, while his lips trace my jawline.

"Do you really want me stop?" He whispers.

"No." I regret my honest answer, but he seems to smirk and connects my lips with his. His warm lips are inviting and I kiss him back. We move in sync with each other, loving every bit of our lips together. It's exhilarating. He deepens the kiss and I pull him closer to me, his arms going higher and higher on my back. After what felt like two hours, I break the kiss and take a deep breath.

"Now that's what I call a snack," he grins and I giggle in response.

"We have to go." I don't even make the effort of releasing him from my legs' grip, but he also doesn't seem to mind it.

"Upstairs?" He wiggles his eyebrows.

"Really Tristan?" I ask incredulously. "We really have to go."

"You mean you have to go."

"Pretty please?" I peck his lips. "I'll give you something in return." I peck them again.

"Like what?" His brown orbs begin to drown in lust and I try hard to restrain myself from laughing.

"You'll see." Another peck.

"Fine." He sighs. "And you better keep your promise."

"Promise." I grin and I engulf him with a hug. He hugs me back and picks me up, carrying me to the door, with my legs never unwrapping themselves.

"Tristan put me down!" I laugh.

"I thought you wanted a free ride!" He laughs.

"Peanut butter with mustard sauce," I lamely retort.

"Your comebacks suck each time." He puts me down once we are out of the house.

"Shut up, you weasel." I stick out my tongue at him.

"Okay," he holds up his arms in defense.

...................

"What do you mean, you have to let me go?" I stare incredulously at the man before my eyes and anger swallows my heart, leaving me in a pool of painful waters.

We've been in Henry's office for about ten minutes now, and he's already feeding me a bunch of poop. Apparently, when Luther claimed to want me, he was serious and since he's more powerful and authoritative than Henry, everything he says, goes.

"Luther owns you now. You have no choice!" Anger coils in his voice, but I notice a slight hint of disappointment which spills from his forced words.

"I won't allow it!" Tristan shouts in defense.

"Tristan, you know she has no choice! Luther will kill her if she doesn't join him."

"She'll die either way! You know that he's mafia is too dangerous!"

Mafia?

I never agreed to join a mafia. Henry cannot strip me off my right to agree or disagree. It's my choice not his, and he should respect that, regardless of the consequences that will trail behind me. Judging from Tristan's reaction, even a blind person can tell the truth which is laced in his voice.

"Don't you think I know that?! She's my daughter for heaven's sake!"

..................

Cliff hanger!

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