Rating: NC17

Summary: In the rose garden of the Country Club, Rory and Tristan dance to the distant sounds of the Valentines Ball.

Things to include: Jewellery, Roses & Coffee.

Things not to include: A weak climax.

 

A/N: This was written for the Trory Valentines exchange. Thanks to BehrBeMine for the challenge words J Hope it wasn’t disappointing in anyway. And thanks to MsLessa who fielded my request. What a fantastical job she did with it!

 

Thanks of course go to Hilz, my beta, who worked with me on this even though she doesn’t read trory. Love ya babe.

 

 

 

 

 

Coming Up Roses

 

 

 

 

 

The dangly earrings that her mother had lent her were tickling her collarbones, sending goose bumps across her skin, hardening her nipples. The silk strapless dress she was wearing should have been enough to keep her warm in the Club’s Ball Room, but out on the balcony with the cool breeze blowing across her bare shoulders she should have been cooling down fast.

 

But she wasn’t.

 

She could still feel his eyes on her.

 

Rory knew that if she turned and looked at him, met his eyes that they would hold her, she would enter stasis and not be able to move until he touched her. She hated that feeling of complete helplessness that overtook her body before he touched her.

 

And she loved it.

 

Loved knowing that as soon as his fingers brushed her back or his hands rubbed her arms that she would be moving again.

 

Towards him.

 

With him.

 

For him.

 

Tristan.

 

She shivered, cold now and knew he was no longer watching her. Rory turned and stood in the arched doorway of the balcony, watching as he moved in perfect time to the slow waltz around the dance floor. He moved with a fluid grace to the beat, holding his dance partner firmly, confidently.

 

And Rory knew how it felt. She had danced with him many times. Dancing with him was always a pleasure.

 

A waltz at a formal dance, a courtship where he let her know that his arms would be better placed than on her shoulder and hip.

 

A slow dance at a party, foreplay where she could taste his cologne in the air above his skin and melt in his heat as his body moved along hers.

 

A dance at a club to a faster song was hot sweaty bodies grinding against each other. It was sex with clothes on.

 

Looking away before he could lock his eyes with her Rory slipped around the edge of the dance floor up to the bar. She watched him in the mirror behind the bar as he worked his way across the room to slip up behind her. He leaned one arm on the bar to the side of her, his front brushing up against her back. The bartender handed her a wine glass and ever so lightly his other hand brushed back and forth against her hip.

 

“Scotch, neat.” His breath tickled her ear as he leaned into her and whispered. “Do you want to dance?”

 

He wasn’t talking about anything to do with the music echoing through the hall.

 

She shrugged and turned to leave, his hand trailing from her hip across her back as she walked away from him.

 

Again.

 

She had done that twice already tonight and it was driving Tristan insane.

 

She was playing with him, and on any other occasion he’d be enjoying it. But not tonight, tonight he was burning. He held himself back, letting the embers of his slow burn smoulder, watching as Rory downed the wine she held and snagged another from the passing waiter.

 

He hadn’t been counting, but she had to be on to at least her fourth wine of the evening and that combined with however many champagnes she’d had during the afternoon’s activities would make for a less inhibited Rory.

 

She wasn’t drunk, but he could tell by the way she was swaying to the beat that she wanted to dance.

 

He just had to get her out of here.

 

Now.

 

He slowly started towards her, effortlessly fending off the people who wanted him. His time, his smile, his attention. It was annoying.

 

Right now his time, smile and attention were all for her.

 

She was leading him out on the balcony, not that she knew, she had her back to him, refusing to meet his eyes for what she knew she would see in them.

 

Tristan stopped and leaned back against the wall watching her, still, again, always watching her as she leaned out over the balcony and looked at the landscaped gardens below. She slowly turned to meet his steady gaze.

 

The stare she had felt on her back ever since she had left him at the bar.

 

She met his eyes.

 

Stasis.

 

Everything slowed down.

 

She could feel it, knew that everyone knew the thoughts going through her mind.

 

Thoughts of Tristan, his golden skin slickly sliding across hers.

 

Tasting salty and bitter from the combination of his sweat and cologne.

 

His back muscles undulating under her fingers.

 

Laughter pealed high pitched from the mouths of the socialite women inside the ballroom.

 

Men laughed loudly throwing their shoulders back while their hands held their stomachs.

 

Tristan’s eyes were the only ones she could see and feel on her, but she knew everyone knew. Her thoughts were written across her face for all to see.

 

Then his hand skimmed her collarbone and settled on her shoulder. She drew breath, shaking as the music sped back up and the voices of the people inside returned to normal volume.

 

His eyes drifted down Rory’s face, neck and chest as hers fell closed. He leaned in.

 

“Do you want to dance?”

 

She nodded, wordlessly agreeing with what he was suggesting.

 

Tristan took her hand, bringing it to his mouth as her eyes opened again. Lightly sucking on her knuckle, flicking his tongue out across her soft skin, he wrapped an arm around her shoulder, guiding her away from the ballroom and down the balcony steps.

 

Together they walked silently through the gardens leading up to the main clubhouse where the valet would bring his car around.

 

Tristan pulled at her arm, swerving into a darker area of the garden.

 

Rory reached out, trailing her hand lightly along the soft leafy hedge that walled off the edge of the rose garden. Reaching the dark entrance, Tristan pushed her into the enclosure, his arm still firmly wrapped around her shoulders, his fingers grasping at her upper arm as he guided her into the centre of the garden where the old stone gazebo sat, faintly lit by lights of the high ceiling in the ballroom shining over the bushy walls.

 

Tristan removed his arm and Rory shivered even as he continued his slow burn.

 

The absence of his heated arm, her dangling earrings tickling against her collarbones and a cool breeze sent more goose bumps across her pale and lightly flushed skin.

 

Tristan’s breathing hitched slightly as her nipples hardened once again beneath the soft silk of her dress.

 

He backed her up against the cool gazebo wall between two rosebushes that brushed against her dress and a few times snagged the material with their small thorns.

 

She could feel the smooth worn stones digging into her back.

 

She shivered again as both Tristan’s hands ripped the heads off the nearby roses and showered her with the soft deep red petals.

 

Tristan dipped his head towards her. Rory closed her eyes and opened her mouth in anticipation of his kiss but was shocked and aroused when he only licked her bottom lip.

 

Pulling away again Tristan took both her hands in one of his and held them above her head.

 

His other hand worked at the zipper located on her side. He slid it down, the rasping sound unusually loud in the silence where all they could hear was their own uneven breathing and the occasional loud voice from the ball.

 

Letting her hands drop to his shoulders, Tristan finally leaned in and kissed her, his teeth nipped, his lips sucked and his tongue caressed. Rory slid her hands around his neck, undoing his bowtie and the buttons of his shirt. She let it hang open, scratching at his nipples as he pushed her dress down past her stomach and over her hips.

 

His hands undid his own zipper, freeing himself even as Rory kicked the dress out of the way, onto the soft grass behind him. The small thorns of the roses scratched at her legs, but before she had time to notice, Tristan had ran his hands back up her thighs, over her smooth hips and ribs.

 

His slow burn flamed into raging heat as he realised she had been naked under the dress the entire night.

 

He roughly grabbed her rear, lifting her, pulling her to him, pushing himself into her even as she wrapped her legs around his hips and arched against him as he ran them both into the stonewall behind Rory’s back.

 

He ripped his mouth from hers and her keening moan grew louder and more pronounced as they continued to dance.

 

The rose petals that had been sitting on Rory’s head, stuck in her hair, drifted down to be caught between the two hot bodies that crushed them, releasing their thick scent to perfume the air and Rory and Tristan’s skin.

 

Tristan’s lips sought her neck, where her earrings got in the way of the soft skin that he wanted to taste.

 

Her nails dug into his shoulders, digging harder as more thorns found their way into her legs, digging harder as he moved his hips faster.

 

Tristan growled in frustration that he could get to her neck and bit her shoulder. Rory cried out and her legs tightened around his hips.

 

More petals fell between them, the scent now overpowering the smell of sex, overpowering the smell of their hard worked sweat.

 

Tristan moved one hand from her rear letting his body hold her up against the wall and brought it up to her breast, squeezing it and pinching her nipple before sliding it down her stomach loosening sweat-stuck crushed petals that fell to the ground even as his hand moved to her clit where he rubbed at her in time to the pace he had set himself.

 

Her moans turned to cries as he grunted in her ear.

 

Tristan pulled his hand up to his mouth, tasting her and roses on his fingers before she gripped his hair and pulled him into a kiss that was all clashing teeth and bruising lips. His hand moved to rear again and he used his arm muscles to help move her on him.

 

Rory’s heels dug into Tristan’s back and her fingers pulled his hair as she felt the swift movement of heat swell through her body, her throat closing as she tried to scream, the only sound escaping was her breath as it rasped in Tristan’s ear. Tristan kept pushing into her, making her ride out her orgasm even as her clenching muscles pulled his out of him, his hoarse voice sounding out her name as he suddenly held them still against the cool stone wall.

 

They kissed again, less intense now as they felt her muscles relaxing. Tristan pulled himself out slowly as they both winced slightly, letting Rory’s legs gently down to the ground, holding her as she regained equilibrium.

 

Rory could feel everything now.

 

Her legs stung, her lips were bruised and her leg muscles ached from holding onto his hips.

 

But she was glowing, perfumed with a strong rose scent and salty sweat.

 

Tristan turned and picked up her dress.

 

“You owe me for this one.”

 

Tristan refitted his pants as he raised a brow before bending to offer a shoulder for her to hold onto as she stepped into the dress. “How do you figure?”

 

“Look at my legs.” Tristan dropped the dress and grabbed her calf bringing it closer to his face. Tiny drops of blood had seeped from the small rose thorn scratches. “When we get home, I want a bubble bath, I want coffee and I want a back rub.”

 

Tristan let her leg down satisfied that no major injuries had been sustained and lifted the dress up her naked body, letting her hold it to her chest as he zipped it at the side. She smoothed a few wrinkles out, glad that silk did not crease.

 

“The bath will sting. It will be too late for coffee by the time we get home. The back rub you can have.”

 

“So stop at Starbucks.”

 

Tristan deftly redid his buttons with Rory’s help hindering more often than not, leaving the bowtie dangle around his neck.

 

Tidy once again Tristan wrapped his arm around Rory’s shoulder and led her away from the gazebo and out of the enclosure towards the clubhouse once more. “Why should you get all this? I should get the bubble bath and back rub. You came and I did all the hard work.”

 

Rory leaned up and whispered in his ear.

 

Tristan nodded emphatically as she pulled away. “Ok, coffee from Starbucks. For that I’ll even get you two coffees.”

 

Rory smiled, shaking her head slightly at how easy it was to manipulate Tristan.

 

The cool breeze picked up again and her mother’s earrings once again tickled her collarbones sending goose bumps across her skin and making her nipples hard under the silk dress. His arm across her shoulder tightened in recognition and he hurried their steps towards the clubhouse and a cab while the scent of roses followed them.