Read He's the One for Free Online Page B

grinned.
    “Bob’s not a guy, either,” I said.
    “What?” Tristan did the thumb thing again, wiping away my tears.
    “He’s a vibrator.”
    Tristan threw back his head and laughed, then he pulled me close, right there in front
     of God and everybody. “Hallelujah,” he whispered, and squeezed me even more tightly.
    He walked me back to the Lakeside Motel, and I might have invited him in, if the minivan
     family hadn’t been there, swimming again. They smiled and waved, like we were old
     friends.
    “Later,” Tristan said, and kissed me lightly.
    With that, he walked away, leaving me standing there with my room key in one hand,
     feeling like a fool.
    I finally let myself in, locked the door, and took a cold shower.
    When I got out, I wrapped myself in a towel, turned on my cell phone, and dialed my
     mother’s number. I was expecting the usual redial marathon, but she answered on the
     second ring. I heard a motorcycle engine purring in the background.
    “Hello?”
    “Mom? It’s me. Gayle.”
    She chuckled. “I remember you,” she said. “Are you in Parable?”
    “Yes, and you set me up.”
    “Sure did,” she replied, without a glimmer of guilt. “The meeting’s tomorrow, at Tristan’s
     office. Ten o’clock.”
    “Thanks for telling me.”
    “If you’d bothered to read the documents, you would have known from the first.”
    “It was a sneaky thing to do!”
    “I’m a mother. I get to do sneaky things. It’s in the contract.”
    I paused. My mother is no June Cleaver, but I love her.
    “How are you?” I asked, after a couple of breaths. My voice had gone soft.
    “Happy. How about you?”
    “Beginning to think it’s possible.”
    “That’s progress,” Mom said, and I knew she was smiling.
    The Harley engine began to rev. Biker impatience.
    “Gotta go,” Mom told me. “I love you, kiddo.”
    “I love you, too,” I said, but she had already disconnected.
    I shut off the phone, curled up in a fetal position in the middle of the bed, and
     dropped off to sleep.
    When I woke up, it was dark and somebody was rapping on my door.
    I dragged myself up from a drugged slumber, rubbing my eyes. “Who is it?”
    “Guess.” Tristan’s voice.
    I hesitated, then padded over and opened the door. “What do you want?”
    He grinned. “Hot, slick, sweaty sex—among other things.” His eyes drifted over my
     towel-draped body, and something sparked in them. He let out a low whistle. “Lake’s
     all ours,” he drawled. “Wanna go skinny-dipping?”
    My nipples hardened, and my skin went all goose-bumpy.
    “Yep,” I said.
    He scooped me up, just like that, and headed for the lake, leaving my room door wide
     open. I scanned the windows of the motel as he carried me along the dock, glad to
     see they were all dark.
    I’m all for hot, slick, sweaty sex, but I’m no exhibitionist.
    The lake was black velvet, and splashed with starlight, but the moon was in hiding.
     Tristan set me on my feet, pulled off the towel, and admired me for a few moments
     before shedding his own clothes.
    Then he took my hand, and we jumped into the water together.
    When we both surfaced, we kissed. The whole lake rose to a simmer.
    He led me deeper into the shadows, where the water was shallow, over smooth sand,
     and laid me down.
    We kissed again, and Tristan parted my legs, let me feel his erection. This time,
     there was no condom. He slid down far enough to taste my breasts, slick with lake
     water, and I squirmed with anticipation.
    I knew he’d make me wait, and I was right.
    He turned onto his back, half on the beach and half in the water, and arranged me
     for the first of several mustache rides. Each time I came, I came harder, and he put
     a hand over my mouth so the whole world wouldn’t know what we were doing.
    Finally, weak with satisfaction, I went down on him in earnest.
    He gave himself up to me, but at the edge of climax, he stopped me, hauled me back
     up onto his chest, rolled me under him.