Page 98 of Dad Next Door

“Good?” I asked with a chuckle. Not because anything was funny, but because I was suddenly filled with euphoria and needed to let it out. “Hello, endorphins,” I said stupidly.

He laughed, making his ass clench around my spent dick in a rippling wave that took my breath away.

Tristan must have realized what happened because he shot me an impish grin and clenched hard, squeezing my oversensitive dick.

This time I choked on nothing as stars exploded in my vision.

“Jesus.” I pulled out of him before my cock had any thoughts of round two. “I’m going to remember that, brat.”

“Who, me?” he asked innocently.

“Yes, you.” I dropped a kiss on his lips. “Am I crushing you?”

“No.” He wrapped his arms around me and tugged me against him. “I like it. Makes me feel safe.”

“You’re safe with me, Tris. Always.”

He squeezed me tight, his breathing going funny for a second.

I lay over him and basked in the afterglow, not wanting to move but knowing it was only a matter of time before the cool air permeated our little bubble.

“Can I stay tonight?” he asked brokenly.

“Yes.” I kissed his cheek, then shifted off him. “Let’s take a shower first.”

He nodded, his eyes shy again.

Not knowing what to say and not really sure he needed me to say anything at all, I sat up and gave him a moment to collect himself.

Tonight had changed things between us—at least they had for me. I wasn’t sure what that meant, but I knew that nothing between us would ever be casual or low-key again.

19

TRISTAN

Quinn’s bathroom was like something you’d see in a luxury design magazine with a giant clawfoot tub, a massive open shower with multi-directional showerheads, a two-way fireplace, and heated floors.

I barely noticed any of the opulence as Quinn turned off the water and pulled a towel out of a warming cabinet next to the shower entrance.

I’d known having sex with Quinn would change things for me, but I’d fooled myself into thinking it wouldn’t be a big deal.

I’d never been able to separate sex and emotion, and after over a decade of either lukewarm or terrible sex, my emotions were all over the place.

“Tris?”

I blinked to clear the cobwebs. I’d zoned out there for a moment.

“Do you need to talk about it?” He wrapped a warm, fluffy towel around my shoulders and rubbed my arms.

I shook my head. My thoughts were a jumbled mess, and trying to sort them out now, when I was tired and still reeling from what we’d just shared, wouldn’t help me make sense of anything.

“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?” Worry clouded his features.

“I’m okay.” I smiled, but it was weak and wobbly and not at all convincing. “You didn’t hurt me. Just have a lot going through my head right now. None of it has anything to do with you. I promise.”

He smiled in relief. “Okay. I get it. And I’m here if talking will help.”

I pulled the towel more tightly around myself as he got another out of the cabinet and tied it around his waist.