Page 31

CHAPTER 31

Jordyn

T wo hours later, Tristan rolls me over. My limbs resemble wet noodles as I sag against his body, spent from the way he spanked me while eating my pussy like a starving man because I wore Gardner’s jersey. Each time I got close, he denied me the orgasm. I begged and pleaded, but even hurt, Tristan was stronger and easily lifted me every time I was on the edge.

After edging me twice, the third time, I was punished for arguing with him about sitting on his face. His tongue teased me relentlessly until I was a sweaty, aching mess, whimpering and begging for release. Finally, he lifted me from his face, my juices shining on his lips, and told me to grab my phone and read to him, promising he’d make me come. I’ve never had such difficulties reading in my life. I barely read two paragraphs before he finally rewarded me, sucking hard on my clit. I detonated around him with such force that I was afraid I’d drown him from coming so hard.

Tristan gathered me in his arms. “Don’t think I’m done with you yet, kitten. But I’ll give you a break because I really wanna hear what happened to your dad.” His finger strokes my cheek before he gently tucks a stray lock of hair behind my ear. I practically purr from the contentment that seeps through me, making my bones like jelly.

“Tell me about your dad, kitten.” His lips lightly brush my temple.

I nod, tracing circles over his chest. “My dad was an amazing, hardworking man who loved his family. I have so many good memories of the three of us.” The smile dies from my face as the day that changed my life hits me so hard in the chest that I’m back there, reliving it again.

“When my dad became sick with a nasty cough, we weren’t worried. He’d been working a lot of overtime to make extra money for Christmas. But the cough wouldn’t go away and kept getting worse. Two days after Christmas, he was coughing up blood and wheezing.” I take a deep breath and slowly exhale. “My mom drove him to the ER, and I sat in the back seat of the car, worried sick about my dad. I was afraid he was gonna die.”

His arms tighten around me. “I’m sorry, kitten. That must’ve been so scary.”

“They admitted him to the hospital and ran tests to figure out what was going on. He was diagnosed with a very aggressive form of lung cancer. Unfortunately, it had already spread to his bones.”

“How old were you?”

“I was thirteen when he was diagnosed. He began treatments shortly after the New Year. It was rough.” I pause, trying to rein in my emotions. “He died two days after my fifteenth birthday. The Strawberry Shortcake doll you held was my birthday present from him.” Swallowing the lump in my throat, I lift my hand to wipe my tears, but Tristan stops me.

“It’s okay to cry, my sweet kitten. Let it out. ”

I bite my lip and nod. “I know. It’s just… I want to get this out before I break down.”

Tristan nods and strokes my cheek. “Take your time. I’m not going anywhere.”

Jesus. Warmth blooms inside my chest, making me flounder for words. My mind is blank as they repeat like a record player. I’m not going anywhere.

The sincerity on his face as he strokes my arm has my heart swelling for him. “What’s the significance of the Strawberry Shortcake doll?”

An embarrassed grin covers my face. “When I was a kid, my favorite color was pink, and I loved strawberries. Santa brought me a Strawberry Shortcake doll for Christmas one year. It was my favorite toy. I was an only child, so that doll became my best friend. When I got older and stopped playing with dolls, she was the one I couldn’t part with.” The misery washes over me, making my breath stutter. Tristan strokes my back, his touch so comforting and supportive that it gives me the strength to continue. “Kids in school can be mean. They called me nerd girl because I spent more time reading than spending time hanging out and trying to be popular. The bullying and name-calling got worse, and I confided in my Strawberry Shortcake doll as if she were a friend.”

Tristan’s muscles tense, and his nostrils flare. “Who are they? Give me names, and I’ll take care of them. I promise they’ll never pick on you again.”

I lay my palm flat over his rapidly pounding heart. Warmth curls through me as I walk my fingers up his chest and then place my index finger against his lip. “They don’t matter, Tristan. I moved away after my dad started treatments and never saw them again.”

He nibbles at my finger, and I giggle, pulling it away. The happiness dancing in his mossy irises fades, a serious look on his face. “If you do, I want you to point them out to me. If any of them are on this campus and they try shit with you?—”

“I promise I’ll tell you if I do.” I give him a sweet, lingering kiss before pulling back with a smirk. “Let me get this out.” Taking a deep breath, I launch into the story of how the treatments made my dad sick and weak. My mom sold our house, and we moved to a rental because of the expense of his treatments. During the move, my Strawberry Shortcake doll got lost, and I was devastated. How lonely I was because I didn’t have friends and I’d lost my doll.

“You didn’t have any friends?” I hate the pity in Tristan’s tone.

“I had acquaintances, not friends. I was so busy helping my mom care for my dad. Plus, it may sound silly, but I loved both my parents so much. I just wanted to be around them.”

“It’s not silly at all, kitten. I understand. I had a lot of acquaintances. Alex was my only real friend. I couldn’t have done it without him.”

“I met Chelsea in college. She was my roommate… And my first real friend.”

Tristan squeezes me tighter. “And now you have Chelsea, Alex, and me.” He presses his lips against mine. “So you moved to be closer because of his treatments, right?”

“Yes. My mom and I hoped they’d work, but it soon faded. He was so sick. Sometimes, I still have doubts about encouraging him to undergo them. It seems they did more harm than good.”

“Hindsight is always 20/20, kitten. When a loved one is sick, you’ll do anything to save them.”

I marvel at the truth in his words. “He went through hell for two years, battling every day. In my heart, I knew he was going to lose the war.” My voice is flat, and time seems to slow down as I go back to that horrific day. “The day he died, he insisted I go to school. I didn’t want to leave him, but I did.” My eyes stare vacantly at a spot on his comforter. “He looked bad, Tristan. So pale, skinny, and weak. I had this sick feeling inside like I knew he wouldn’t be alive when I came home from school. But after watching him slowly die for two years, I don’t think I could’ve handled watching him take his last breath.”

“Two hours after I arrived at school, I was called to the principal’s office. It felt like I was walking through quicksand when I left the classroom. I walked inside and took one look at the sadness in the secretary’s eyes, and I knew. I heard her say, ‘I’m sorry, but your father—' before I fled. I ran as fast as I could toward home. My mom stopped and picked me up. She’d been on her way to get me….”

Tristan’s breathing increases as he squeezes me tighter, offering his support. I cling to him, my heart aching and my throat raw from swallowing so much, trying to prevent the tears from falling.

“Once inside the house, I held his hand and whispered how much I loved him, even though he was gone. I just felt like he could hear me, you know?”

“I know he did, Jordyn.”

I collapse against him, tears flowing down my cheeks and onto his neck. His strong arms grip me like a life raft in the worst storm. I’m confident he won’t let me drown.

We stay like that for a few minutes, comfortable with the silence between us, words unnecessary. Once the sadness lifts, I finish my story.

“The coroners came and took away his body. All the days after that were dark and bleak. Mom and I were shells of the people we once were. We kept busy with arrangements, but after the funeral, day bled into night, and I had no idea what I did all day other than stare out my window and replay memories of better days.”

The tears start again, coursing down my cheeks. “Things never got better. Mom had to use money from the college fund my parents created so that we could survive. We struggled so much that when I turned sixteen, I worked part-time at a bookstore to help mom pay bills.”

“Sounds like the perfect job for you. Did you consider becoming a librarian then?”

“Not until Cornell. The librarians were so amazing there. They were my inspiration.”

“What about family? Wasn’t there anyone to help you and your mom?”

“My mom’s parents died years ago, and my dad’s parents had disowned him when he married my mom because they thought they were too young. They married while they were in college, and she had me when she was twenty-two. She wrote a few letters and called them, but they didn’t respond. Nor did they come to my dad’s funeral.”

“Oh, God. How cruel.”

“I know. Life can be cruel.” My aqua eyes lock with his green eyes, my insides warming from the sea of devotion swimming in them. “Sometimes it rewards you by sending unexpected people into it that make you forget the pain and strife.”

Tristan’s lips part slightly. His voice is low and husky when he speaks. “Are you referring to me?”

“I am, captain.” My hand cups his face before I plant my lips against his. “You ease my pain. Make me forget all the bad things in my life.”

“Good.” He pulls me so I’m lying on top of him. I begin protesting, but he shuts me up with a kiss. “I want to know everything about you, but right now, I’m desperate to take advantage of the fact that neither Josh nor Chelsea are here.”

“But your ribs….”

“Fuck my ribs.” He cups my face. “I need you.”