Water dripped from his clothes onto the carpet underneath as he stroked the dense and dark engraved door. He traced the golden etchings along the wood grain, his heart beating quickly in his chest. He heard the elevator closed behind him, his escorts returning to the grand lobby 24 stories below.
This was a mistake.
He pressed his forehead against the door, listening to the soft sounds of footprints coming closer to him.
He was being hunted.
His breath caught hearing the click of the lock being turned, and he lifted his head away from the wood.
He was running to her.
He stepped back as the door slowly opened, an enticing orange glow emanated over the glossy, marble floor.
He should leave.
Yet he stood still as the door made way to reveal the woman he had feared and ached to see, "Ira..."
"Tristan." She looked at him from underneath her wild curls, her body wrapped in a crimson silk robe, "I didn't know when to expect you." Her voice was terse, its familiar warmth hiding from him she leaned against the door frame. Her eyes focused on the wall of the penthouse foyer, letting a heavy silence create distance between them.
His eyes dropped to the floor, his fingers twitching against that cold silence. He pursed his lips together, chewing on his cheek as his eyes dared to bring themselves from the ground to study her.
Her arm was crossed around her body, everything about her tense and protected. Tristan's bottom lip trembled as he recalled her warm caress and sweet promises that were so far away. His jaw throbbed as he remembered her screaming at him, the pain from her fist on his chin. Worst of all was her retreat into her own familiar and personal hell; a hell from which he couldn't pull her away. She had locked herself in that fire and was not willing to leave.
Not yet.
So he'll join her. Even though it was selfish, he will join her.
He had nothing to lose.
He reached out, his fingers stroking along her cheek, gently caressing her chin. Her lips parted, but no words penetrated that silence, just a long sigh.
Yet she stayed right where she was.
He stepped closer to her, his arms wrapping around her, his head nuzzling against her curls. Her shoulders curled up, and her body stiffened in his arms until his fingers gently ran against the curve of her back. She leaned against him as he stroked her skin through the ruby silk, her head turning to rest against his chest. He smiled, his fingers trailing up to curl her hair as she accepted his embrace, "I missed you, Sweetie."
"It hasn't been that long..." She whispered, her arm wrapping around him, gripping the damp shirt that clung to his back.
"The last time I saw you, you ran away from me. You were hurting, and I wanted to reach you..." He chuckled softly, trying to hide a whimper trembling underneath. "I still want to. I-I know it'll be hard. I know that it won't be perfect, but for the past week, all I wanted to do was see you again. Talk with you again." He lowered his head to nuzzle along with her forever wild curls, "To touch you again."
She chuckled softly, shaking her head, her forehead nuzzling back and forth against his chest, "That was the cheesiest thing I have ever heard." She looked up at him, her bright eyes taking in his gentle gaze.
His laugh was light and airy as his hands moved to cup her face, "If you think that was cheesy...what I wanted to do most of all..." He lowered his head, his hot breath against her thick lips, "Was kiss you again."
His lips pressed against hers, wincing feeling the pain from his cut mouth. That pain changed into joy as her lips pressed back against his.
Her arm kept him close to her, and his fingers stroked her hair, getting lost in those precious fiery strands. The other caressed her neck, trailing down to stroke her bare shoulders under that robe. Her body was so hot against him, contrasting sharply with the dampness of his clothes. He pulled back, cooing as he pressed his forehead against hers, "I...I need you, Ira. This week has been absolute shit, and with you, none of that matters anymore."
She stroked his cheek gently before her hand trailed down to stroke his neck, "You're shivering..." She touched his shirt, feeling the moisture that soaked into it from the rain outside, "You're also getting my robe wet."
"Just your robe, babe?" He chuckled softly, feeling the weight on his shoulders lift as the distance between them vanished. He raised an eyebrow as his eyes traveled down from her face, following the tantalizing slit of her robe, "Or are you getting wet elsewhere-"
Her finger pressed against his lips, cutting him off, "Get in." She pulled away from him, walking back inside of her suite, her bare feet barely making a sound the wooden floors.
He stepped inside the penthouse; this wasn't new to him, but now he was noticing every detail. The vaulted ceilings, the marble counters in the kitchen, the extensive open views of the city skyline ending with the horizon line highlighting the ocean, droplets of rain against the glass casting shadows along the wooden floors of the living room and the marble floors of the kitchen and dining area. Things that he hadn't noticed before were embedded in his memory. This was part of a life she had been offering to him. A life he had been putting off; it was too soon, too overwhelming, too much. He swallowed heavily, feeling self-conscious at the wealth around him.
He had so little to give to her.
Who was he kidding?
He had nothing to give to her.
He knelt down, trembling fingers undoing his shoes before he gasped softly as a warm towel wrapped around his head. He chuckled softly as Ira struggled to gently dry out his hair, too stubborn to allow one arm to hold her back, "I can do that, babe. Thank you for the towel."
He looked up at her, smiling as she blushed, her eyes aside and her hand moving behind her back. His eyes followed those wild orange curls cascading down her body, taking in the curves underneath that robe, her vibrant dark skin enhanced by the crimson silk. He shivered from the sudden warmth he felt coursing throughout his body, realizing what else came with her offer.
He stood up, stepping out of his shoes and drying his hair out with the towel, chuckling as he felt her eyes on him, intent on watching him. His body was the one thing he could offer in return, and she could use it whenever she wanted. "I could put on a show if you want me to, babe."
Her thick lips curled to the side, scowling, "Already working that charm of yours." She motioned to the fireplace and the couch, "Go sit. You're still shivering." The scowl faded from her face, a small and gentle smile taking its' place, "There should be a blanket on the couch. I'll come back with another towel."
"Taking care of me already." He cooed, watching her walking up the wrought iron and wood staircase, watching her hips sashay back and forth. He began to unbutton his shirt, not wanting to possibly stain what had to be an expensive couch.
Does rainwater stain leather?
His brow furrowed, frowning as he stared at copper dotted insets along the arm of the sofa. He didn't know if water would stain it, and he didn't want to find out. He set the shirt onto the floor before unbuttoning his jeans. He started to pull them down before he yelped, feeling a towel hit his back, "Babe!"
Ira snorted before laughing, "Am I interrupting the show?"
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