***
Tristan’s stalker, Issy Sweet, stealthily snuck into the Grand Ball Room at the Plaza Hotel, and casually made her way over to the buffet table. She nodded and smiled at anyone who met her eyes and started to dance as she crossed the dance floor. Okay, so maybe not so stealthy. She plucked a glass of champagne from the tray a passing server held and took a sip. The champagne was sweet and bubbly. “Mmm.”
Issy reached the buffet table and began to pile a plate with food. What? She was hungry. Stalking was hard work! She looked around the ballroom, searching for Tristan, and spotted him on the dance floor. The chocolatier was surrounded by a group of supermodel bridesmaids who were dancing with him. He looked so hot as he danced erotically to the rock music and grinded his body against the bridesmaids causing them to cry out in pleasure. He looks like a sex god with his harem of goddesses.
Issy felt herself get a little envious. She wished she were one of them. Was it getting hot in there or was it just her? Issy began to fan herself with her hand and gulped back the rest of the champagne.
Once the glass of champagne was finished Issy peered down into her glass disappointedly. She needed another glass. It hurt to see Tristan with those other girls, but at the same time she knew that it was for his own good. He needed to get laid. Tristan was looking extremely pale and weak compared to how he normally looked. And Issy had a feeling she knew why.
Issy’s eyes scanned the ballroom for Michael. Michael, Tristan’s new assistant chocolatier, was a goody-two-shoes and Issy had overheard him on more than one occasion nagging Tristan about his philandering ways.
But what Michael didn’t understand was that Tristan had no choice. He needed sex in order to survive. And because of the death of his fiancée Hazel, Tristan had vowed never to fall in love again. This was why Tristan only had one-night stands. Or at least this is what Issy had extrapolated from the facts that she’d gathered thus far.
I understand Tristan even if Michael doesn’t. Issy was surprised to spot Michael only a few feet away from her, causing her to jump. He was standing next to the buffet table and also enjoying a glass of champagne. The stalker quirked her head upon noticing Michael’s oddly sad and tortured expression. She quickly followed his line of sight curiously and noted that he was watching Dante and Joan dance together.
Joan was wearing this cool tuxedo and having Dante spin her around again and again. This sight couldn’t stop the smile that formed on Issy’s lips. But when she looked back at Michael her smile faltered. She stroked her chin as she looked back and forth between Michael and Joan.
Michael was obviously close to the couple. He’d been chosen as Dante’s Best Man after all, but Michael had just popped up from seemingly out of nowhere. At least, it seemed that way to Issy. Just who is he really? She wondered. And what is his connection with Joan? Is he in love with her? An ex-boyfriend perhaps? Issy wanted to solve this new mystery.
Issy set her plate of food down before approaching Michael. On her way over to him she grabbed two glasses of champagne from another passing server. She reached Michael and had to clear her throat to get his attention when he still didn’t seem to notice her even though she was standing directly next to him. “Ahem.”
Michael turned and his eyebrows rose as he looked at the young woman who’d just approached him. She was petite at five-three, and doll-like with her porcelain skin that gave away her Asian descent. Her hair was brown but multi-colored with streaks of light brown, blonde, caramel, and dark brown. Her hair was a delectable sight that instantly reminded Michael of chocolate. Her eyes were almond-shaped and a caramel brown color. His eyes left her face to check out what she was wearing. She was dressed in a simple, pale blue, silk dress with spaghetti straps. She’s cute. “Uh, hi.”
Michael acted as if he were surprised to be approached by a female, and this instantly endeared him to Issy. “Here.” Issy held out the extra glass of champagne, “Join me for a drink, handsome?”
“Uh, certainly.” Michael tentatively took the champagne glass. He wasn’t used to dealing with human females…especially one so cute.
Issy smiled, “You looked like you could use a drink.” She continued knowingly and nodded her head in Joan and Dante’s direction. Issy had a plan. She would do her best to keep Michael distracted from Tristan so that he’d have a better chance at getting laid by one of those supermodels.
Michael followed her gesture and then frowned, his expression darkening. “Yes, how did you know? I thought I was hiding my feelings rather well.” He suddenly seemed grumpy.
“Hmm, maybe to someone who hasn’t experienced a similar heartache before. But unrequited love? Been there, done that. Actually I’m onto my next unrequited love but this time the object of my affections doesn’t even know I like him.” Issy said conversationally.
“Unrequited love,” Michael echoed watching Joan dance. “Sucks.” The angel finished, using human vernacular.
Issy laughed. “Yeah, tell me about it. But…there’s the hope that you’ll meet someone nice and learn to fall in love again.”
Someone nice? “Fall in love again?” Michael shook his head. “I don’t even know if something like that would be possible for one such as I. I had never known love until I met Joan.” He admitted in a soft voice. Michael didn’t know why in the world he was telling a stranger all this but…it felt good to get things off his chest. The ache inside of his heart had lessened just a little bit.
“She was the one who opened your heart to love? I see. Don’t let the door close, Michael. A handsome guy like you - you’ll be sure to have many admirers when people find out you’re on the market.” Issy threw Michael a playful wink.
Michael raised an eyebrow at the ballsy girl. “Are you hitting on me, young lady?”
Issy blushed. “What? No…I…like I said, I…have someone I like now.” She stammered.
Michael’s expression turned inquisitive. “May I ask who?”
Unbidden, Issy’s gaze went to Tristan. Michael followed her gaze and his eyes widened. Then hope gleamed in Michael’s eyes…not for himself but for his friend. “You like-?”
Clink, clink, clink. The sound of someone tapping a champagne glass with a fork rang out through the ballroom. “Ahem, can I have everyone’s attention please?” Kim called out and the Erotic Corpses stopped playing. A cat’s paw smile then formed on Kim’s heart-shaped face. “It’s time for the bride to toss the bouquet!”
“The bouquet!” Issy exclaimed excitedly, a gleam in her eyes. “If I catch that bouquet then maybe Tristan will be mine!” She ran off to participate, leaving a perplexed Michael behind.
“Hey, wait!” Michael called out to the mysterious girl but was completely ignored. This should have irritated Michael but instead he found himself smiling. “What a strange girl.”
The dance floor was cleared of the men and Kim directed the remaining single women to stand around. “Okay, all single girls come out onto the dance floor!”
“You’re not ‘single’ Kim,” Joan teased her friend with a wave of her bouquet.
“Unmarried women then.” Kim shot back with a hand on her jutted hip.
Alan, Kim’s boyfriend, had turned a little pale at his girlfriend’s words. No pressure or anything.
Joan walked across the dance floor to distance herself from the group of women. Once she was on the other side of the dance floor, she held her bouquet, which was made up of purple flowers and white gardenias in her two hands, and prepared to toss it.
Issy looked around at the other women and assessed her opponents. The supermodels were a lot taller than her, but skinny and probably malnourished since they only ate like a piece of lettuce a day. Kim looked like she was in shape though and Issy figured the girl would probably be her hardest opponent. Although, Carmen, Tristan’s friend, was a Latina and everyone knew that Latin women owned catfights. Issy swallowed nervously when Carmen smiled viciously in her direction.
“Okay, ladies, e
yes on the prize!” Kim directed waving her hand at Joan, who stood at the other end of the dance floor with her back to the girls.
The supermodels all shot Tristan coquettish and flirtatious looks, however, and it was obvious to Issy that they thought of Tristan as ‘the prize’. One of the supermodels boldly blew a kiss in Tristan’s direction while another winked at him. The supermodels noticed each other’s antics and began to fight amongst themselves. “Hey, did you just wink at him? Tristan will be mine!” “No, mine!” “I can’t believe you blew that kiss at him. I’m going to marry him!” “No, me!”
“They’re all wrong. He’ll be mine.” Issy said softly to herself.
Surprisingly, Carmen overheard her. “No way, muñeca, that corazon will be mine.”
Joan tossed the bouquet over her head with a two-handed toss and it went sailing up into the air and came down right into the center of the group of girls.
“I got it!” One supermodel exclaimed as the bouquet was about to fall down into her waiting hands.
“Oh no you don’t!” Another model objected as she shoved her friend sideways with surprising strength. The two girls crashed to the floor on top of each other.
The bouquet fell onto the floor in a flurry of white and purple petals. As soon as it hit the floor that meant it was fair game. All of the girls instantly dove for it. Chaos ensued. There was suddenly a catfight in the middle of a sophisticated wedding reception. The bridesmaids pushed, shoved, and tackled each other. “Tristan is mine!” One supermodel cried as she pulled on her friend’s hair. “No, mine!” Her friend snapped back as she clawed at her friend’s face. “Back off skank, he belongs to me!” It was like watching female rugby except that the bouquet of flowers was the football.
Issy crawled on her hands and knees through the tangle of fighting girls. She was so petite that she was able to crawl right between their legs without them even noticing her. Slowly, she got closer and closer to the bouquet. Closer…closer…almost there. She reached her hand out - almost there - she was just about to grab it when Carmen snatched it from her grasp. Jerk! No! “Hey!” Issy said indignantly as she stood. “That’s mine! Give it back!”
“No way, muñeca.” Carmen held the bouquet away from Issy with a triumphant smile on her face.
“I said: ‘give it back’! Tristan is mine!” Issy declared loudly and fiercely. Embarrassingly, Issy had yelled this out when there had been a lull in noise from the other girls and so everyone had heard her yelled out exclamation. All eyes fell upon the loud little girl with quite the set of lungs curiously.
Kim blinked as she noticed the girl for the first time. “Who’s that?”
“She’s not one of your model friends?” Joan asked.
Kim shook her head, sending her blonde curls bouncing around her face, “Nope, she’s too short to be a model. So…if you don’t know her and I don’t know her then…?”
“She’s a wedding crasher!” Joan said happily as she clapped her hands together. “I can’t believe I actually got my own wedding crasher. Awesome.”
Kim gave her friend a look of disbelief. “You’re happy about this?” She shrugged. “Whatever.”
Carmen held the bouquet high over her head so there was really only one thing Issy could do. She got behind Carmen and leapt onto the Latina’s back, wrapping her legs around Carmen’s waist and making a grab for the bouquet. She successfully managed to grab onto Carmen’s wrists.
Carmen screeched out in surprise at having Issy suddenly attached to her back. “Loca mona! You crazy monkey girl! Let go!”
“No way!” Issy said as she tugged on Carmen’s wrists.
The pianist stumbled backwards into a table that had been decorated with romantic ice sculptures that Dante had made himself (the demon was good with a blade). One sculpture was of two ice swans, their beaks were touching sweetly, and the curve of their necks formed a heart shape. The other ice sculpture that was on the table was totally random (at least to Issy) and was of a gigantic golden retriever with - get this - wings. The sculptures rocked precariously upon the table, and tipped backwards. They were about to fall over, when-
Suddenly, Dante was there to catch the sculptures and right them before they could fall off the table. “Who’s that crazy female?” Dante wondered aloud as he observed the petite girl fighting for the bouquet with Carmen. She’s tiny, but she sure is feisty.
“A wedding crasher.” Michael answered Dante’s question from beside him. “And apparently she wants to marry Tristan pretty badly.” There was a note of amusement in Michael’s voice.
Tristan happened to be within earshot of Michael and shot the man a surprised look. “Who me?” He pointed to himself and gawked at the proceedings. He’d had a feeling a catfight might break out for the bouquet because of his presence there at the reception, but had never expected a petite little girl to be so gung ho about it. She was causing a lot of chaos. Just who is she? She’s not one of the models…and yet she looks oddly familiar. Tristan pinched his forehead with his thumb and forefinger as he tried to remember where he’d seen Issy before.
Carmen stumbled backwards and bumped into another table as she tried to get Issy off of her. This table had been piled with champagne glasses and bottles of expensive champagne. The table tipped and all of the glasses and bottles began to slide off of the table.
Issy grabbed the bouquet of flowers and pulled with all her might. At that moment, Carmen smiled evilly. “If you want it so badly, you can have it, muñeca.” The singer abruptly let go of the bouquet.
Because Issy no longer had a hold on Carmen’s wrists she began to pinwheel her arms as she tried to maintain her balance on Carmen’s back. However, she began to fall off of Carmen’s back and unwrapped her legs from Carmen out of reflex. Issy screamed as she fell backwards about to land on top of the table that was covered with champagne glasses. This is going to hurt. Issy shut her eyes as she awaited the impact of her back with the table and glasses. However-
Once again, Dante was there. In the blink of an eye, Dante was snatching glasses out of the air and putting them back onto the table, which he’d already righted. He stacked the glasses until he’d created a champagne glass tower. He caught the falling bottles, opened one of them, and poured the champagne on top of the glasses creating a spectacular champagne fountain. The wedding guests all ‘ooed’ and ‘ahhed’ at the sight and began to clap.
Fwump. “Huh? No pain…?” Issy opened her eyes and blinked up at Tristan’s smiling face. Issy inwardly squealed. Eeee! Tristan saved me! Tristan had caught her just like a fairytale prince. “T-T-Tristan,” Issy stuttered in surprise. “You caught me?”
“Looks like it, babe.” Tristan’s brow furrowed as he looked at Issy’s face intently taking in her caramel and chocolate colored eyes and her multi-colored hair. “I think I know you…no, I do know you. You look so familiar.”
Issy blushed. “K-Know me?” She laughed nervously. “Impossible. We’ve never met.”
“And yet you want to marry me pretty badly.” Tristan leaned in close, putting his nose in the crook of Issy’s neck and breathing in deep. “Mmm…you smell like sugar cookies and vanilla. Has anyone ever told you that?”
Issy shivered as Tristan nuzzled her neck. Is this a dream?
“I remember this scent from somewhere…and your eyes…your hair. I do know you.” Tristan continued with this fierce look in his bi-colored eyes. “Why can’t I remember.”
Rule Number Two of the Shadow Stalker Association: A Shadow Stalker can never be seen by his/her target. “No, you really don’t!” Issy exclaimed as she leapt out of Tristan’s arms and took off running towards the exit of the ballroom.
“Hey, wait!” Tristan called after her. He would have pursued her, however, the supermodels suddenly tackled the chocolatier to the floor.
“Where’s the bouquet?” “It was just here!” “That little girl stole it!” “Where’d she go?” “Find her!” The supermodels shouted to eac
h other as they raced around the ballroom.
Meanwhile, Issy continued to run. She ran out of the ballroom, through the hotel lobby, and out the front door. She made her way over to her mountain bike (yep, the kind you have to pedal) and hopped on. The stalker began to pedal her way back to her apartment building.
Issy couldn’t believe what had just happened. She looked down at her right hand that was still clutching the bouquet. She’d gotten the bouquet, and not only that - Tristan had caught her and nuzzled her neck. Eeee! I’ll never wash my neck again!
***
Tristan felt disoriented as he was tackled to the floor by the supermodels, but not because of the impact. He was dazed because he felt like he’d just seen a ghost - a girl he’d suspected was his guardian angel in the flesh. That was her. It had to be. The girl who saved me more than a year ago…
FLASHBACK
It was not unusual for Tristan’s father, Adrian Savant, to use Tristan to seal certain business deals. Adrian had noticed Tristan’s odd ability to charm people early on, and had decided to put it to good use. Adrian Savant was CEO of the popular French bakery franchise La Boulangerie Savant that was giving Dunkin’ Donuts and Starbucks a run for their money.
Anytime Adrian was having a difficult time convincing a landlady to sell her land for a new La Boulangerie Savant location, or sell a competitor’s lease, or to join the franchise, Adrian would send Tristan in to seduce her and convince her otherwise. Yes, he’d basically prostituted his own son for business. This enabled Adrian to cluster several La Boulangerie Savant shops in a small area therefore saturating the market. Adrian would also buyout the local bakeries in the area and those with female owners who didn’t want to sell…well, he’d have his son Tristan convince them.
Adrian didn’t feel guilty about using his son because Tristan wasn’t even human. A succubus had seduced him one night and he’d remembered the encounter. Nine months later the same succubus demon appeared before him with a baby in her arms and handed it to him - like an offering, a gift. The child had demonic bi-colored eyes. He was a little monster but Adrian had had the feeling he’d be useful somehow after all the child was from a supernatural world no one believed in anymore. He’d soon figured out his son was an incubus - or sex demon merely by observing the reactions of females including his own wife and daughter to his son. It had been extraordinary.
Tristan for the most part put up with his father’s requests and had slept with whomever his father had told him to. It had been no skin off Tristan’s nose since he needed sex in order to survive anyways. But after Tristan had graduated from college - that’s when his father finally went too far.
Adrian had told Tristan to go to the Hilton Garden Inn Hotel. He was given a keycard for one of the hotel rooms and told to wait for his next conquest there. Tristan did as he was told but as soon as he entered the hotel room someone injected his neck with something that knocked him out cold.
When Tristan regained consciousness he was naked and handcuffed to the headboard of a bed. And there was a man there with him. A man! Tristan was fine with sleeping with random women…even elder women, but a man? He couldn’t believe his father had thought this would be okay with him. Sleeping with a man was incredibly different than sleeping with a woman.
The man was middle-aged, and dressed like some sort of male dominatrix in tight black leather even though he didn’t have the body for it. The man’s beer gut was hanging over the front of his leather briefs in a disgusting manner. And the man was even wearing a pair of thigh-high leather boots with three-inch heels. All in all, Tristan found the man repulsive…and this man, who was red in the face and panting over him, wanted to do him. Crap! Tristan struggled against the handcuffs causing the man to chuckle and straddle Tristan.
Tristan tried to kick the man in the crotch. But this earned Tristan a backhanded slap. The jerk didn’t stop there either, and hit Tristan’s face again and again laughing with sadistic glee all the while. Tristan’s vision swam and dark spots formed in front of his eyes.
Tristan watched in horror as the man grew turned on. The sick creep. Tristan knew he was going to be taken advantage of if he didn’t do something. He realized that he wasn’t gagged and that he could call for help. Tristan swallowed his pride and did so. “Help! Someone! Anyone! Help!”
The pervert didn’t waste any time in gagging Tristan with a ball gag he’d pulled off the night table. He shoved the ball into Tristan’s mouth and buckled the strap behind his head roughly. Tristan glared at the man hatefully and the male dominatrix began to spread Tristan’s legs, when-
Ding-dong. Ding-dong. The sound of the room’s doorbell going off was heard.
“What the hell? Who could that be? Crap.” The man quickly donned a robe to cover up his leather outfit, and smoothed his hands over his thinning hair in order to make himself appear more presentable. “Don’t worry, pet. I’ll be right back.” The creep who was probably the CEO of some bakery Tristan’s father wanted to buyout assured Tristan as he stroked his face.
Tristan flinched away from the man’s touch, thoroughly disgusted, and glared at the man heatedly.
The man chuckled as he left the room and Tristan strained his ears to hear what the hell was going on.
“Room service.” Came a singsong female voice.
Crap! A woman…she could be in danger from that sick pervert! “Mmph!” Tristan struggled against his handcuffs causing them to cut into his wrists. He had to warn her!
“I didn’t order any-” The businessman was saying until the clattering sound of the cart being slammed into something was heard. The man made an ‘oof’ noise that made Tristan think that the girl must have rammed the cart into him! Then there was a twang sound as something, maybe a plate cover, made contact with the man’s head. Tristan couldn’t help but visualize the girl hitting the man over the head with a stainless steel, dome plate cover.
Tristan heard the sound of fast approaching footsteps and then a young woman was bursting into the bedroom. She looked like an angel to Tristan in that moment. Her caramel and chocolate colored eyes were wide with concern and horror for the state in which she found Tristan.
The young woman gasped and raised a hand in front of her mouth as she took in his nakedness and injuries.
Tristan noted that her hair looked like it was highlighted in different colors - dark brown, light brown, caramel and blonde. It instantly reminded Tristan of the chocolate he loved so much. He mentally dubbed her his ‘chocolate angel’ or ‘Coco’. Coco was wearing a simple, pastel pink dress and black, high-heeled shoes.
“Oh my God…he really was about to take advantage of someone in here! I heard you through the wall. I thought…oh my God…this is crazy…what am I doing here? What if the cops come? No, that would be a good thing, right? What do I do? What do I do?” Issy panicked as she looked at the beaten and bleeding young man on the bed. Tristan’s face was a mess, already turning black and blue, and his left eye was completely swollen shut.
Tristan wished this angel could have seen him when he was at his best instead of at his worst. He could tell the brave young woman was panicking, close to hyperventilating even, and did the only thing he could think of to soothe her - he released his pheromones.
The scent of chocolate and oranges wafted through the air. The girl took a deep breath and calmed instantly. “Chocolate and oranges?” She shook her head, dazedly, and looked at Tristan again, who tried to look as harmless and helpless as possible. “At any rate…I’ve got to get you out of here before that pervert wakes up. Yeah! I can do this…I think.”
Issy made her way over to the bed and began to inspect the handcuffs. She pulled a bobby pin out from her hair and began to use it to pick the lock. In just a few seconds Issy had removed the handcuffs.
As soon as Tristan was free he unbuckled the ball gag and tossed it aside angrily. He rubbed his sore wrists as he scanned the room for any sign of his clothes. He spotted them folded neatly on the nea
rby chair. How thoughtful of that sadistic creep.
Tristan got out of bed and stumbled over to the chair. He hurriedly began to tug his clothes on. He could feel the girl’s eyes on him as he dressed and turned to give her a questioning look.
The girl seemed to realize what she was doing and swiftly turned around, but not before Tristan noticed the pink tinge to her cheeks. I tried not to look at his crotch but now I’m regretting it. Issy thought to herself lewdly. “S-Sorry! It’s just I’ve never seen a naked man before. Oh my God, did I just stay that out loud? I’m so sorry!” She bowed repeatedly with her back still turned to Tristan.
Tristan surprised himself by chuckling at the girl’s antics as he began to button his shirt. With all that bowing she was acting Japanese. “No worries, Coco.” Tristan hurriedly put on his shoes. Once he was finished dressing he stalked over and stood in front of Issy. He looked down into her eyes intently. “Thank you for saving my butt. Literally.” He smirked.
Issy’s blush deepened at Tristan’s words. “N-No problem…anytime.”
Tristan reached out and grabbed her hand, “Come on, we’ve got to get out of here. It’s not safe!” He pulled the young girl out of the bedroom with him and they passed the unconscious pervert on their way out the front door of the hotel room. They continued their way, running down the hall, until they made it to the elevators.
Tristan jabbed the elevator button, and a few seconds later the elevator arrived. The door opened and they stepped inside. Tristan was still holding the girl’s hand but didn’t seem to notice.
Issy bit her lower lip as she came to a decision. “I’m going back to my room. I’ll call the cops. You should escape. Good luck.” She said before letting go of Tristan’s hand, jabbing the door close button, and stepping out of the elevator.
Startled by her abrupt departure Tristan reached his hand out to grab her, but the door closed. “Hey! Wait! What’s your name?” But it was already too late. The elevator began its descent. Crap. Tristan was trembling now that his adrenaline had worn off. He’d almost been taken advantage of by a man. Tristan placed a hand over his mouth as he gagged and bile rose up his throat. Yuck. But thankfully he’d been saved. Thank God. I’ll never forgive father for this…he definitely crossed the line! I’ll make him pay.
Tristan kicked the side of the elevator angrily and left a rather large dent. That’s it. I’m through with the Savant family…it’s so over. I’m never going back home. I’ll live above the shop I just opened. I’ll never go back.
Tristan’s thoughts became centered on the young girl who’d saved him. That girl…I hope she’ll be okay. She’s pretty feisty…and weird. I’m sure she’ll be fine. I should go back. What if that punk wakes up and attacks her!
Tristan jabbed his finger into the elevator button and waited until the elevator began to rise again. The door opened and Tristan ran out, down the hall, and back to the room. He kicked the door open and saw that the businessman was still on the floor unconscious.
Bing. The sound of the elevator opening was heard and Tristan quickly left the room and hid around the corner. He was able to watch who was exiting the elevator and it turned out to be the police! Five cops ran to room he’d just left and kicked the door open.
Tristan let out a breath of relief. That pervert would be taken into custody at least and the girl would be safe. Tristan waited until the cops were inside the room before he slipped past them and made his way back to the elevator. He was tempted to try and search for the girl, but resisted the urge. If the cops spotted him, they’d take one look at his face, and start asking questions. Questions that Tristan really didn’t want to answer.
Tristan decided that the girl was safe and that was all that mattered. He kept his head lowered and combed his hair in front of his face with his fingers to conceal his battered face before he made his way through the hotel lobby and exited the building. As he passed through the sliding doors and made it outside he’d never felt so free. He continued walking and did not look back.
END OF FLASHBACK
That was her…the young woman who saved me. Tristan thought dizzily as he returned to his senses to find himself the object of a tug-o-war between bridesmaids at a wedding reception. Two supermodels had a hold of his arms and were tugging him back and forth.
“Let go!” A blonde said fiercely.
“No, you let go! He’s mine!” A brunette shot back.
Doh. He’s out of it for a little while and he’s let his pheromones go out of control. Oops. “Ladies, there’s not need to fight. We can share. Can’t we? There’s plenty of this.” Tristan smoothed his hands down over his torso. “To go around.” A sexy grin curled his lips.
The supermodels instantly stopped fighting and helped Tristan to his wobbly feet. “You promise, Tristan? You won’t run away?” “You won’t escape us?”
Tristan blinked at the girls in confusion. “Escape? Why would I want to escape you lovely ladies?”
“You’re lying. You want to go after that girl, don’t you? The one with the brown hair.” The blonde accused petulantly.
Tristan searched the ballroom for his chocolate angel but she was gone. Even if I did want to go after her…I wouldn’t because I won’t allow myself to fall in love again and I suspect that that girl would be no one-night stand. “What girl?” Tristan countered nonchalantly even as his heart clenched at his own words.
The supermodels smiled happily in response. “Yeah, forget her! You have us.”
“I’m honored. I must be the luckiest guy in the world to be surrounded by such decadence.” Tristan rumbled as he put his arms around two of the girls’ shoulders. “I want to go someplace where we can be alone, ladies. What do you say we get out of here?”
The blonde held up a keycard, “We have a hotel room here.”
“A hotel room.” Tristan’s stomach twisted at the thought. He hadn’t been inside of a hotel room since the incident with the perverted bakery owner, but he realized that he was just being silly. “That sounds…perfect. Let’s go, ladies.”
With a girl on each arm, Tristan left the ballroom with five of the supermodel bridesmaids. He looked around for any sign of Michael and was surprised the Archangel hadn’t tried to stop him from leaving, but Michael was nowhere to be seen. Lucky. I think I’ll finally be getting laid tonight. Hell yeah.
***
Along with the supermodels Tristan made his way down the hall towards the room the girls had booked. Tristan’s mouth twitched, the girls had definitely been prepared. They’d exceeded his expectations and had actually planned this. He was definitely flattered. Apparently, his reputation as a ‘sex god’ preceded him.
This should have been a good thing, but the thought left a bad taste in his mouth. These young women thought he was ‘easy’, and that he would sleep with anyone - anytime. And they were right. Tristan needed sex in order to survive. There was no way he could escape this promiscuous lifestyle.
And after what had happened to Hazel…he wouldn’t allow himself to fall in love again. The image of his chocolate angel flashed in Tristan’s mind briefly but he shook his head to rid himself of the image of her innocent smiling face.
Tristan realized that he wasn’t acting like his usual irreverent, lecherous self, and he suspected it was Coco’s fault. The blonde opened the door to the hotel room and the group made their way inside. Tristan felt like slapping his cheeks. He needed to get it together. Get it together man! Here he had five absolutely gorgeous, curvaceous, horny supermodels who wanted to sleep with him. He was the luckiest guy in the world. But…he didn’t need to rush things like he usually did either. He decided Crystal, Tiffany, Robin, Jasmine and Sally deserved a little wooing and foreplay tonight before the main course.
Tristan made his way over to the phone and dialed room service. “Hello, I’d like a bottle of Cristal Brut champagne, a large bowl of fresh strawberries, a bowl of warm chocolate syrup to dip the strawberries in, and also a bowl of fres
h whipped cream sent up to my room. Price is no object.”
“Very well, we’ll have that delivered to your room right away, Sir.” The concierge replied.
Tristan hung up the phone and looked up to see the supermodels crooking their fingers at him playfully to follow them to the bedroom. He grinned and followed. They entered the bedroom and the women began to strip off their clothes. Just like that. It was like his own private Girls Gone Wild movie.
“Wait.” Tristan said as he took out his smart phone. “You ladies are such a beautiful sight - this should really be accompanied by some sexy music.” Tristan put on one of his favorite songs Urgent by Foreigner and it filled the bedroom with its jazzy rock beat.
The girls squealed and began to sing along playfully. “You say it’s urgent, so urgent, so oh oh urgent! Just wait and see, how urgent my love can be! It’s so urgentttt!” The girls all sang out at the same time.
Tristan took a seat on the end of the bed and crossed his legs. “You may now resume your striptease, ladies.” He waved his hand for them to continue in a princely manner. “Just do it a little more slowly this time. I want to savor this moment and your beauty like a chocolate filled with a fine liqueur.” The chocolatier let his pheromones ooze out of his pores and the aroma of oranges and chocolate drifted lazily through the air.
Tristan’s unique scent hit the women’s noses and they breathed in deep, becoming drugged on his intoxicating scent. The women’s pupils dilated. Tristan could smell their sudden arousal with his keen demon senses.
The bridesmaids resumed their striptease and this time they swayed their bodies sensually to the music as they danced and slowly removed one article of clothing at a time.
The supermodels danced around Tristan, giggling, and acting like Arabian harem girls as they threw articles of clothing at him. A lacy red thong hit him right in the face.
Tristan pulled the thong off his face and put it to his nose before inhaling deeply. “Mmm.” The scent of a fine woman. He slipped the thong into his pocket for later use.
In mere minutes, the supermodels were standing completely naked before him and eyeing him with hungry looks. He returned their gazes, letting his eyes rake over their glorious curves.
Ding-dong. Ding-dong. The sound of the hotel room’s doorbell was heard. “Ah, that must be room service. Please, just wait one moment, ladies. I’ll be right back.” Tristan winked before he left the bedroom and made sure to shut the door behind him so that whoever was at the door wouldn’t steal a forbidden peek at his women.
Tristan sauntered over to the front door and opened it. A young man that was probably still in college stood before the door with his hands on a cart. Tristan gave the room service attendant a warm smile. “Come right in, man.”
“Yes, Sir.” The young man wheeled the cart inside, and looked around the room curiously. He was no doubt wondering where the girl Tristan was trying to seduce was.
That’s when the sound of feminine giggles came from the bedroom. There were multiple giggles in different pitches, and it became obvious that there were more than one woman inside of the bedroom. The young man’s eyes widened in response, his face reddened, and he raised a questioning eyebrow at Tristan.
Tristan just shrugged carelessly and grinned as if to say ‘What can I say?’. He fished out a twenty-dollar bill and handed it to the young man for a tip.
“Thanks, well…have a good evening, Sir.” The young man made a mental note of the things Tristan had ordered (probably to use as a future dating reference).
“Oh, I will.” Tristan replied teasingly.
“Bloody hell.” The young man breathed, running a shaky hand through his hair as he tried to calm himself down. The room service attendant was obviously shocked and impressed by Tristan.
When the room service attendant left Tristan closed the door behind him. After that the chocolatier wheeled the cart full of goodies to the bedroom. He opened the door and wheeled the cart inside. “Sorry to keep you lovely ladies waiting. The champagne and do-it-yourself chocolate-covered strawberries have arrived.”
“Ohhhh champagne!” “Cristal - love it!” “Oh, look he even got us strawberries to dip into chocolate and whipped cream. Yummy!” “I love chocolate!” The supermodels gushed.
Tristan smirked as he opened the bottle of champagne and sent the cork flying across the room with a loud pop. This caused the girls to cheer. “Whoo!”
The chocolatier began pouring glasses of champagne and handing them to the women one by one. He was reminded of his friend Dante at that moment - the wicked bartender. “Just call me ‘bartender’, ladies.” He winked.
The supermodels giggled and readily obliged him. “Bartender.” They called out in a singsong voice. “Pour me a glass, bartender!” “What a sexy bartender we have.” “We’re so lucky.”
Lastly, Tristan poured himself a glass of champagne and held up his glass to make a toast. “A toast…to an evening that will be filled with pleasure that you young ladies have only dreamed about. And let me tell you…this will be even better than your wildest dreams come true.”
The women all sucked in eager breaths. There was an excited gleam in their eyes. “Cheers!” They clinked their glasses together and drank heartily of the champagne.
Tristan set his glass down and sat down on the front end of the bed once more. He spread his legs in a provocative pose. “Who can take off my bowtie for me?”
“I’ll do it.” Crystal purred as she sauntered over to Tristan and straddled his legs boldly so that she was sitting right on his lap. She reached out, removed his bowtie, and tossed it aside without breaking eye contact. “What now, Master?” She joked.
“Remove my jacket.”
Crystal grinned and did as she was told, removing Tristan’s jacket. As she did so she let her hands linger upon his chest. Finally, she tossed the jacket aside.
“Put your arms around my neck.” Tristan ordered her in a rough voice.
Crystal readily obeyed and stared into Tristan’s bi-colored eyes with a lustful expression on her face. Tristan grasped the nape her neck and pulled her in for a kiss. Tristan languidly moved his lips against hers, and ran his tongue over her bottom lip seeking entrance. The blonde writhed and moaned on his lap as she opened her mouth eagerly.
Tristan slipped his tongue inside and began to caress her tongue with his own, coating her tongue thoroughly with his saliva, which was a powerful aphrodisiac.
Crystal swallowed and Tristan’s saliva slid down her throat making her whimper. She had become even more aroused. As Tristan kissed Crystal he looked over her shoulder at the other women and saw them watching him and Crystal intently. Tristan groaned. These women were so needy. And he loved it.
Tristan took turns kissing each of the girls and feeding chocolate-covered strawberries to them. The evening passed by in a haze of lust, champagne and chocolate.
“I’m not looking for a love that will last, I know what I need and I need it fast.” Tristan murmured song lyrics to the girls that were all passed out on the bed. He reached out and fondled a strand of brown hair between his fingers. These women had slept with him and given him their precious sexual energy in return. Thank you, my sweets.
To be continued in…Chocolate 3: Impishly Sweet