Chapter 13 Damon Reid vs. Tristan Thomas: An explosive encounter…The visit!

***

Damon heard the sound of a motorcycle and smiled. Tristan was in.

“Tell you what,” he interrupted the ramblings of his accountant, “let’s do this in the study. You do know where it is don’t you?”

“Of course Damon.” The accountant quickly turned and headed towards the study.

Damon got to the door just as Tristan pushed it open.

“Hey,” Damon said softly, taking in Tristan’s look. He looked good enough to eat in a tight black V-neck T-shirt, leather jacket, and ratty jeans that broke over his boots just the right way. He looked particularly dangerous in leather. And he smelled incredible. “Damn you look good.”

Tristan grinned as if to say there was no use denying it.

“You, my friend, would look good even in rags.” Tristan shot back at Damon, his sincerity obvious. “What are you up to?” Tristan asked, ignoring the fluttering inside his belly on hearing Damon’s deep, sexy voice.

“Nothing much. Just going over something with my accountant. We’re not going to take long. Why don’t you head on upstairs? There are drinks in the fridge up there. Help yourself.”

“Okay.” Tristan turned to go.

“Tris?” He heard Damon call out huskily and turned to look at him.

Like slow-motion, Damon reached out and pulled Tristan to him and covered his lips with his own. God, he had missed those lips. By the time they ended the kiss, Tristan was trembling so bad. They were both getting hard.

“Go,” Damon said hoarsely. He was this close to carrying Tristan upstairs to have his way with him.

“I don’t think I can do that,” Tristan muttered against Damon’s lips, sliding his hands under his t-shirt and running his fingertips over Damon’s nipples, drawing an agonized groan from him.

He lifted his chin and licked at the hollow of Damon’s throat, biting the tendon.

“Fuck Tris.” Damon felt his cock swelling even more.

Behind them, someone cleared his throat. Damon groaned with frustration and turned to see who it was. Though it was a holiday and he had given the staff the day off, some were still around. It was his red-faced accountant standing behind him.

“What is it, Stanton.” He all but growled at the accountant.

“I left the KAKRA file in my car. I wanted to go and get it.”

“Don’t bother. I have a copy. Just wait for me. I’ll be right with you.” But even before he could finish, the accountant, whose face was beet red, was already rushing back to the study.

“I won’t be long Tristan. Promise.” Damon husked dropping a quick kiss on Tristan’s already swollen lips. Then turning around, he moved towards the study with long strides.

Tristan shrugged out of his jacket and hanged it on the stand beside the door, then headed upstairs. When he got to Damon’s bedroom, he went to get a bottle of orange juice from the fridge and looked around. He was so hard he contemplated getting himself off. But decided to drink some juice, walk around and try to get his mind off his hard-on. Fuck!

Tristan noticed a small gadget that looked like a monitor in a corner of the room and went to take a closer look wondering what it was. He saw an on and off button and curiously turned it on. He immediately knew it was a security camera and clicked on the last recording. The time on the recording was 2:56 a.m. What Tristan saw next caused the blood to drain from his face. He could clearly see Damon embracing another handsome man at his living room door. One could see they cared about each other. Who was the man? Tristan wondered. Was he Damon’s lover? He laughed bitterly. Of course, he was his lover. Why else would he be in his house at such an odd hour? Tristan quickly turned off the device and sat on the couch lost in thought.

What was he to do? Leave? He knew they hadn’t said anything about being exclusive but he thought…just maybe…Damon would be serious about him. He knew the tabloids always carried pictures of Damon with different women. It was obvious he had a pretty busy sex life. But Tristan couldn’t help how he felt about Damon. He loved him God help him.

Tristan felt anger and hurt mixed in his heart but he couldn’t bring himself to leave. If Damon couldn’t be serious about him, he was going to be with him any way he could. And if that meant he was going to have to share with others, so be it. He was a man after all, and should move with the flow right?

When Damon eventually got into the room, it was to find a relaxed Tristan watching golf on TV.

“What are you drinking?” Damon asked going to place some documents on the big study table beside the window.

“Orange juice.”

“Are you okay?” Damon didn’t miss the hitch in Tristan’s voice and turned to give him a closer look.

“Yep.” Tristan stood and went over to where Damon stood beside the table, wrapped both arms around his neck and pulled him down to meet his desperate kiss. “Why do you ask?”

“I don’t know…there was somethi…forget about it. Where were we?” Then Damon was bending to capture Tristan’s lips again. Tristan’s lips were soft yet strong against his. He applied just the right amount of pressure and suction, rubbing with lips, caressing with tongue to drive Tristan mad with desire. He nipped his lower lip and then drew it into his mouth to suck it gently, soothing it with the tip of his tongue. It worked.

Tristan groaned harshly and tore off Damon’s t-shirt. “I want you so bad right now.”

“I loved that t-shirt,” Damon said getting hard instantly.

“I will get you another,” Tristan said pushing Damon backward until he fell onto the bed.

“Move up.” He commanded.

Damon’s heart was beating so hard within his chest he was having a hard time breathing. He moved up till his head was on the pillows and laid still watching Tristan tear his already torn t-shirt into shreds.

“Tris?”