Boys and Girls, Part IV: Why I Love to Hate You

A/N: Just a N/C warning in this chapter.

Chapter 15 – I Love You

“So where did Tristan go now?”

Jacy regarded Cynthia over her large plate of homemade fried chicken and mashed potatoes. “He said he had to go buy something before we returned to LA,” Jacy lied. “He didn’t add too many specifics,” she added hastily.

Cynthia smiled. “Probably trying to bribe your family with gifts to like him.”

Jacy attempted a smile. “Yeah, you’re probably right.” The dinner turned out to be a quiet affair. Jacy learned that Boyd attended weekly poker tournaments at his buddies’ houses on Saturday evenings. Only Cynthia, Gareth, and Darren were seated at the dining room table that evening.

“Speaking of your family…” Gareth began, talking through mouthfuls of chicken, “…please tell me you’ve got a sister around my age who looks like you.”

“Oh Gareth! Stop it!” his mother scolded. Gareth’s only response was a sheepish grin.

Jacy tried to suppress a laugh. “Actually…I’ve got twin sisters around Darren’s age.”

Darren’s head snapped up at that revelation. “You don’t say.”

“And they’re actually a lot prettier than me.”

Gareth looked skeptical. “I don’t believe that for a second, Jacy.”

Jacy blushed. “You really are trying to overthrow your brother’s seat on the Charmer’s throne, aren’t you?”

“What can I say?” Gareth began unashamedly. “I love women…especially attractive women.”

Cynthia rolled her eyes, prompting Jacy to laugh again. The quartet continued making light-hearted banter during their all-American dinner. Eventually, Cynthia instructed her younger son to play the piano for Jacy. Gareth escaped the festivities before they even began.

As Darren began playing some classical compositions, Jacy took a seat on the family’s burgundy leather couches. Cynthia disappeared briefly only to return armed with a large photo album. She sat next to Jacy and opened a large, navy blue album with “TRISTAN” written out in gold calligraphy across the cover.

“I thought I may as well embarrass Tristan while he isn’t here,” she admitted without guilt. Jacy nodded, and Cynthia opened to the first page.

The first picture was of a small, shriveled, pink baby. He was wrapped up in a blue blanket. Cynthia had surrounded the picture with mementoes of Tristan’s birth, including his hospital bracelet and birth certificate.

The next several pages chronicled major milestones in Tristan’s life, including his first crawl, his first steps, his first time using the potty – Jacy’s personal favorite -, and his first birthday party, among others. Tristan looked like a happy little brat in all of his baby pictures. It stirred Jacy’s heart and made her remember that Tristan was a normal human being capable of exhibiting very human emotions.

The pages that followed chronicled Tristan’s school years, where Jacy clearly recognized the emergence of his inner boy terror. With each passing year, Tristan’s facial expressions seemed to grow more severe. By the time Jacy reached his early high school photos, she glimpsed bits of the man that made up the Tristan Carter she knew today. Even though he had bulked up between his freshman and senior years of high school, Tristan had still been a lot skinnier as a high school senior than now. He was the same height, which made him appear leaner. Jacy wondered what work ethic had exactly enabled Tristan to possess such a warrior’s body today.

Once they had passed Tristan’s school and athletic photographs, Cynthia immediately turned to another section of the album. The very next picture that Jacy noticed was one of Tristan seated in front of a piano. He couldn’t have been older than six or seven years old. He had that look of concentration on his face that Jacy had grown accustomed to seeing. He looked so adorable.

“Tristan was amazing when he played,” Cynthia finally said.

Jacy looked into Cynthia’s big, brown eyes. “When did he start?”

“When he was in the second grade,” Cynthia answered – her brown eyes twinkling. “I used to play myself, so naturally, I wanted my little boy to play too. I was delighted to learn that Tristan loved playing. He was a natural at it too.” She shifted in her seat for comfort. “Everyone would say, ‘That boy can’t even read regular words. What makes you think he can play the damn piano?’” She laughed. “He showed them.”

Jacy’s eyebrows furrowed. “Why did he stop?”

“Well…Boyd wasn’t sure how many boys we’d have. If Tristan was going to be his only son, Boyd wanted to make sure that he knew all the ins and outs of football. You know how it’s like a religion down here.”

Jacy rolled her eyes. “Kinda hard to miss.”

Cynthia laughed ironically. “Well…at least I still have my Darren. Isn’t he fantastic?” Jacy followed Cynthia’s adoring gaze toward her son, seated in front of the piano, concentrating hard on the music in front of him. He really was wonderful.

“Tristan doesn’t play anymore,” Cynthia added with a tinge of regret in her voice. “I wonder if he still knows how to play.”

“He does.”

Cynthia’s turned to face Jacy. “What?”

“He played for me when I needed some accompaniment for a choral recital piece.”

Cynthia appeared stun. “He did?”

Jacy nodded hesitantly. She worried when Cynthia didn’t say anything for the longest time, but a smile finally crept across Cynthia’s soft features. “That bad boy. He doesn’t even play for his own Mama!”

Jacy laughed. Darren eventually excused himself to use the washroom. The clever kid never returned, but it didn’t matter. By that time, Cynthia had brought out the albums of all the other family members. Jacy regarded each of them admiringly. She wished that her mother had had the time to make scrapbooks for each of the Hewitt girls, but being a single mother supporting three daughters for a deadbeat father didn’t usually afford you time for such crafty endeavors.

By the time they got through Darren’s album, one last album sat in Cynthia’s lap. The stunned look on her face told Jacy that Cynthia had forgotten about this one. It was Lucas’s album. Cynthia instinctively opened the book, almost unaware that she had a guest next to her. Jacy remained quiet. She didn’t want to interrupt Cynthia’s thoughts.

“I miss my baby so much,” Cynthia finally uttered, with a sigh. She continued to turn the pages of Lucas’s album.

Jacy didn’t say anything, but she regarded Cynthia sympathetically.

“It should be a little easier now, but I’m just not feeling it,” she continued. Tears began streaming down her face. Jacy’s heart broke.

Cynthia slowly turned her tear-stained face to Jacy. She gave Jacy a small smile.

“I’m glad you’re in our lives now, Jacy. I can’t imagine a better girl for my baby.”

Now, Jacy was on the verge of tears.

“God works in mysterious ways, Jacy. He brought you and Tristan together for a reason.” She wiped away the tears with a brush of her fingers. “I can tell…he’s a better man with you.”

Jacy cried with Cynthia that evening. When Gareth had walked in on their spectacle, he complained about not knowing what to do with crying females. Cynthia had swatted Gareth playfully on the back of his head for his male insensitivity.

Jacy had ultimately decided to retire early. She was tired, and she didn’t particularly want to engage in a conversation with Tristan – whenever he decided to return home – that would ultimately lead nowhere. He may be a better man than before, but some of the same ghosts that haunted Tristan of yesterday were still ever-present.

****

Jacy’s eyes shot open at the sound of the summerhouse’s front door banging open. So much for her full night’s rest. Oh well, as long as she didn’t reveal her waking state to Tristan, he probably wasn’t going to bother her. Guys hated talking about unresolved issues even more than women, that was for sure.

Jacy closed her eyes and feigned sleep. Two seconds later, she heard the bedroom door open and a large body stumbling in. Her curiosity was peaked, but she suppressed the urge to even squint her eyes open.

Jacy heard Tristan bang his knee against the bedpost. “Shit!” he swore loudly. His words were slightly slurred, and his accent was extra strong that moment. Jacy heard him huffing with rage at his own clumsiness. She instinctively turned her body away from the commotion. Tristan was still huffing, but…it didn’t sound as fast now.

That’s when Jacy heard the zipper of Tristan’s jeans being pulled down. Her eyes flew open as she still faced away from Tristan. Nothing to panic about…the boy always sleeps in his boxers. Jacy kept on her guard as Tristan shuffled over to her. She heard him removing his shirt and even stripping his socks away from his feet.

Jacy closed her eyes again as she felt the weight of Tristan taking a seat on his side of the bed and pulling his jeans off. She heard him toss his pants to one side and felt him climb in under the covers. See. Nothing to worry about.

That’s what she thought. But there was just one little problem…well…not little. In fact, there was one very big problem pressing into her lower back. Apparently, the jerk had chosen today of all days not to wear any underwear. Her jaw dropped. Tristan still probably couldn’t see her face.

“Mmmm,” he groaned. Jacy felt his large hands moving underneath her t-shirt. Jacy swore inwardly. She should’ve worn a bra to bed. Jacy felt her large breasts being cupped underneath her t-shirt and felt both nipples being pinched. She suppressed the urge to moan.

Obviously, Tristan was not deterred by Jacy’s lack of response. He slowly lowered his hands, brushing them across her lush navel. They traveled lower…and lower…until Tristan’s hands found the waistband of Jacy’s shorts and pulled down. Jacy felt the cotton move past her thighs. Tristan pushed her shorts all the way to her ankles before pulling them off and hurling them toward one corner of the room.

Jacy gasped slightly as her bare backside was exposed to the slightly nippy night air. Tristan didn’t seem to notice. He had already dropped his hands to Jacy’s soft folds and begun stroking them. Jacy couldn’t believe it; he was trying to score with her even though he thought she was sleeping!

Growing irritated by that fact, Jacy slowly turned herself on her stomach, making it look as if she was so deep in sleep that Tristan’s caresses were not affecting her. Tristan’s hand no longer touched her down there, and Jacy hoped that the jerk had finally gotten the message.

She felt cold air again as Tristan seemed to have pulled back slightly. She heard him sigh in frustration. She smiled into her pillow, satisfied that she had managed to upset him.

That smile immediately faded as she felt Tristan’s warm body hover over hers. He was on his hands and knees, and she heard the heaviness of his breathing. His head was only inches from hers, and she was able to smell the alcohol that Tristan had no doubt consumed in excess that evening. She continued to feign sleep even though she felt his warm breath next to her ear. Jacy tried as best as she could to hide the terror she felt; what was he going to do?

“Jacinda…” Tristan whispered in a low, husky voice.

She didn’t answer.

“I know you’re awake, baby.”

****

It was foolish for Jacy to think she could pretend to sleep. Tristan could never have sex with Jacy if she was asleep. He needed his woman fully awake and ready to react to his particularly rousing sort of lovemaking.

Tristan was a little drunk right now; he knew it, but he wasn’t drunk enough to be unaware of what he was doing. He wanted to fuck his girlfriend right now. He was horny as hell, and the sight of Jacy’s round ass staring up at him was proving to be too much to bear.

“Open your eyes,” he demanded.

After a brief pause, Jacy complied. Her eyebrows eventually furrowed in anger. “Leave me alone,” she gritted through her teeth.

Tristan leaned his head over to one side to kiss her. She turned her head into the pillow, and Tristan snapped.

He angrily slapped Jacy’s ass, and she flinched. He gave a hard grunt before pulling Jacy’s legs apart from behind.

“No!” she yelled, finally looking over her shoulder to face him.

Tristan was so turned on at that moment. Seeing Jacy’s face really pushed him over the edge. His cock was at full salute right then, and Tristan knew that he was at the point of no return.

“Tristan…stop!” Jacy screamed, her eyes beginning to tear.

Tristan drove his stiff dick into Jacy from behind. She cried out at the sudden invasion. Tristan didn’t want to get distracted by Jacy’s protests, so he covered her mouth with his hand. Her screams grew muffled. He pushed himself down so that he was directly covering her from behind.

Goddamn, he thought, it feels so fucking good to touch her like this. Tristan loved the intimacy of this situation. He covered all of Jacy with the front of his body. He heard her moan with each thrust from behind. After Jacy’s cries finally died down, and it was apparent that she had abandoned her indignation to just enjoy Tristan’s primal urges, Tristan finally removed his hand from over her mouth.

He kissed her shoulder and then her neck. His breathing was still ragged as he continued to drive into Jacy’s tight cunt. He could feel how wet she was, and it pleased him so much.

Despite the obvious pleasure he was inciting within his feisty brunette, Tristan could still hear Jacy sniffling. He lowered his mouth next to her ear as he continued to pump into her.

“I love you so much, baby,” he groaned out.

“Go to hell,” she spat out through her teary gasps.

Tristan kept his mouth next to her ear as he began pushing into her faster and with much more force. She screamed in frustration at Tristan’s actions. “Don’t be hurtin’ my feelings now, sweetheart. You love me too; you and I both know that.” He continued to pump into her; the sound of their wet flesh mating in unison was driving him crazy.

“No…” Jacy gasped out.

Tristan lowered his hand to Jacy’s clit and began stroking it ferociously. “Say it.”

Jacy’s breathing was quickening rapidly. Tristan could feel how close she was, but he wanted her to say the words he so desperately needed to hear from the woman he loved. “Say it,” he threatened again as he brushed his thumb back and forth over her bud at a frenetic pace. When Jacy didn’t say anything for the longest time, he feared that she wasn’t going to cave as he had anticipated. He was out of ideas. He lowered his head next to hers and his ice blue eyes regarded her in desperation.

“Tell me you love me, baby.”

Tristan saw Jacy’s resolve disappear at that moment. She choked up, and her hazel eyes sparkled with tears.

“I love you, Tristan.”

He smiled at her confession. It had meant so much that a girl with so much pride had finally listened to her heart, instead of her head. He continued to stroke her clit, and Jacy finally came. As he felt her moist cunt walls closing around his cock, he felt his own climax approaching.

But Tristan got one more surprise.

“Come inside of me.”

Tristan continued pumping into Jacy, but his expression grew into one of surprise.

“What’d you say, baby?”

Jacy turned her head around and looked at Tristan lovingly. “I want to feel you come inside of me.”

Tristan knew that Jacy was on birth control, so it wasn’t that much of a risk. Still, she was putting a lot of her trust in him, and he loved her even more at that moment. He kissed her on the lips as he thrust in once, twice, and a third time before coming inside of her.

****

A/N: This author believes in always having safe sex, even if you're in love!:)