“What?” Aiden couldn’t piece things together. What ride?
“I came here with Andre, and he’s taking Chris to the health centre.” The giddiness slowly left Tristan. “Are you okay? You look a little pale.”
“No, I died.”
Tristan raised one eyebrow the way he often did, and it only made the burning inside of Aiden grow hotter. “Well, for a dead man you look great.” Heat filled his eyes, making them glow in the dim light of the cabin. He grabbed Aiden’s arm and stepped up close. He smelled of pine trees and fresh sweat, and it made Aiden want to cling to him, but no, damn it!
“Come on, babe. Let’s go home.” The grip on his arm tightened, and Tristan bent to whisper in his ear, “I want to rip your clothes off, throw you on the kitchen table, and bury myself in that perfect arse of yours. I want to hear you moan and beg, want to feel you clench around me as you come.”