Chapter 50: A Rainy Afternoon

"So do you agree?" Lorelai asked as she crossed her legs and took a deep sip of coffee from the mug placed in front of her.

"Do I agree with what?" Luke asked looking put out as he tried to put down an order and listen to his ex-girlfriend's incessant blabbering. Lorelai didn't mind that he was frowning and threatening to have her bodily removed from the diner she was just relieved to be able to get back to something normal with him.

"That Rory walks differently?"

He stopped writing and looked at her, eyebrows raised. "What?"

"She walks differently," Lorelai clarified, titling her head to one side. "I can't describe it; it's like she almost sways when she walks. Her hips, they sway. Don't you think?"

"I'm sorry Lorelai I don't spend that much time looking at your daughter's hips," he deadpanned, uncomfortable.

"Right," she replied making a face at the thought. "Sorry. I just meant, she's changed and I don't know how to stop it."

Because he knew that Rory's relationship with Tristan had caused Lorelai considerable tension and stress, he softened his face and shrugged. "Maybe you don't try to stop it. Maybe you just let it be."

Lorelai's mouth opened and closed once before she spoke. "Did you just say something calm and rational about Rory and a boy she's dating?"

"It's not my place. Besides, as much as I hate to admit it – and I really, really do – she looks happy. I didn't like her seeing Dean, Jess was a disaster and I thought this Tristan kid was gonna be a class A jerk but he really seems to be treating her right. So what can you do, right? The world will still try and throw you a curveball once in awhile."

"Yeah, it will," Lorelai murmured and took another sip of her coffee because she didn't know what else to say.

"Now can I go back and run my livelihood?"

"Yeah." As he turned, she continued, "Hey Luke?"

"Hmm?" he replied distracted.

"It is your place," she said with a genuine smile. "With Rory, I mean. I would like it very much if you had an opinion about her every once in awhile."

He waited a beat and then nodded. "Duly noted."

"And what is Luke noting so duly?" Rory said as she plopped down in the stool next to her mother's immediately reaching for her coffee.

"Nothing," her mother answered dismissively and turned all the way to face her. "How was school?"

A dreamy smile came over Rory's face. "It was perfect. Tristan got into a fight."

Lorelai's mouth opened in shock for the second time in five minutes. "Uh, yeah, that's just heaven."

The sarcastic comment seemed to fall on deaf ears as Rory continued to grin and then grabbed her mother's hands and announced excitedly, "And then he told me he loved me!"

"Oh. Wow that is good news." Lorelai drained the coffee in front of her before she continued. "How'd all this happen?"

Rory looked down at the floor and blushed furiously. "Well, I actually told him I loved him last Friday night at our anniversary dinner."

Fighting back the disappointment that Rory waited an entire weekend to tell her, Lorelai smiled cheerily. She supposed it wasn't easy for Rory to talk about Tristan to her because of her lack of trust in the relationship. "Well that's quite the role reversal."

"Yeah, well, I was kind of out of it," her daughter murmured under her breath, thinking she couldn't be heard. Then louder, said, "But I meant it. And so did he."

"I know," Lorelai said, putting a hand on her daughter's. "It's great, honey."

"He called you, didn't he, that night?" Rory said after a bit, chewing her bottom lip. "Were you upset?"

"No," she answered quickly and when she saw Rory's dubious look, she conceded. "A little upset. Only because you don't get 'tipsy' as Tristan put it. You're not that girl and I never thought you'd be that girl. It isn't easy to swallow."

"I was just nervous," her daughter admitted. "It was supposed to be a big night."

Lorelai felt hope bloom inside her. "Supposed to be?"

"Nothing happened, Mom."

She tried to keep a straight face, tried to understand how frustrated Rory sounded. "It's okay. When it's right, it'll happen."

Her daughter looked surprised. "Yeah?"

"Of course," Lorelai said as she pulled Rory into a hug, hoping that it wouldn't happen any time soon. "It will happen and it will be right for you."

Rory sighed and held her mother closer. "Thanks Mom."

The rain-slash-hail came down hard on the windshield of Rory's car, making it difficult for her to see ahead. Muttering promises to God she didn't know she could keep that He somehow get her safely to Tristan's doorstep, she maneuvered the car through the DuGrey's neighborhood and headed for the familiar wrought-iron gate.

It had been a month since their anniversary and Tristan's imprisonment, as he called it, was almost up. Even though their applications were in and the relatively stress-free final semester of their high school careers was upon them, Rory insisted on studying for the tests that their teachers insisted to give them week after week. Tristan agreed to the "study session" only because he knew it was easy to distract her into something more enjoyable.

So much for his "sex off the table" idea, Rory snickered as she drove up the gravel driveway. Their little hitch had only made things hotter between them and she found it even more difficult to restrain. She did everything in her power to make sure he knew she was planning on sex with him soon. Sooner than he thinks.

But it has been a month, a nasty voice countered in her head. And you're still the Virgin Tease you always were. Rory didn't know what brought on the sudden self-dislike but she was pretty sure it was sexual frustration. Lately, Tristan did everything but when it came to fooling around and she was ready burst.

Shaking her head, she parked her car next to Tristan's BMW and braced herself for the cold. Gathering her stuff from the passenger seat, she opened the door and sucked in a breath as cold slammed against her. "Holy mother!" she cursed uncharacteristically – another side effect of not getting any, she supposed.

"Gilmore!" Tristan voice called out and she looked up to see him yelling at her from his bedroom. "What the hell are you doing?"

"We had a study date," she called back, struggling to close the door against the wind howling around her.

"Sane people wait until the storm's over!" he reprimanded.

"Well we both know that's a moot point," she yelled back, laughing. "The things I do for you, DuGrey!" The rain seeped through the collar of her coat making her shudder violently and the wind whipped around her face. The papers in her hand flapped viciously between her fingers before slipping through them and falling to the ground. "Damn it!"

"Jesus Mary, get out of the rain. It's freezing out there!"

She ran after the scattered papers, bunching them together in a soggy mess in her hands before running for the large oak door at the entrance of the DuGrey mansion. Her hair clung wetly to her cheeks and she shuddered again as she reached up to ring the doorbell. Tristan opened the door and pulled her inside, muttering as he did so. "Seriously, who wears such a light jacket in the middle of December? Such an idiot, Mary."

She winced as he tugged her coat off and then glared at him. "Hey!" Her voice went unheard and he continued to take off her wet clothes and insult her. She swatted his hand away and yelled, "Hey! Stop it! I'm capable of taking off my own clothes!"

"Apparently, you're not capable of checking the weather forecast!" he retorted, then grabbed her hands and pulled her to the stairs. "I have dry clothes upstairs."

"This caveman act is not setting my heart aflutter if that's what you think you're doing, buster." Rory knew why they were bickering; it was just another side effect of sexual frustration.

"Let's just get you dry before you catch pneumonia and your mother can find another reason to hate me."

"Don't bring my mother into this." They reached Tristan's room and he handed her the towel that lay on his bed. She smiled inwardly; he was being very thoughtful – he'd left the towel out for her before he came downstairs to get her. Her annoyance vanished and she smiled at him. "Thanks."

He stepped back. "I'll get my sweats."

When he left the room, Rory stripped out of her wet clothes and started to dry her hair with the towel. Tristan entered just as she was wrapping the towel around her, over her bra and panties. He smirked as he approached her, sweats in hand. "You'd think this was all part of my evil plan."

She rolled her eyes. "Getting me into your room and undressed? Quite a regular occurrence, Tristan. Not much of an accomplishment."

He reached for the towel and pulled it away from her. "Yeah but I still love looking."

This time she did blush, her skin tingling, warming, as he hungrily perused her body. "You're grounded. Such rewards should not be allowed."

"Two words: conjugal visits."

She laughed and twined her arms around him as his hands came to rest on her waist, his fingers softly kneading her back. "I came here to study."

"Who are you kidding?" he said with a low chuckle.

"I'm serious."

"So am I."

He leaned in and kissed her, softly, their lips brushing against one another. She pulled away and was about to make another smart-alecky comment when he swooped in again and silenced her. The kiss was still soft but now a little urgent, which sent a shiver of excitement up her spine, spread warmth across her belly.

When he kissed her like this, soft but desperate, she knew he was slowly losing control.

Her hands splayed across his shoulder blades, blunt nails tracing the bone over the cotton of his T-shirt, and then scraping up against his nape to tangle in his hair as his hands grabbed her bottom, pulled her flush against him; against his throbbing, already rock-hard erection.

The warmth in her belly became full blown raw need as she felt him against her center, even through the material of his pants. Every time, she thought headily. Every time she felt him there, her stomach did summersaults and her mind went pleasantly blank. Need and power, heat and excitement coursed through her and all she wanted was to feel every part of him, everywhere.

Because she was about to lose control herself, she tore her lips away, pressed her forehead to his, panting heavily as hands, both his and hers, explored flesh. "Someone has been thinking about me."

"You, the busty blonde on the cover of my porn magazine," he said noncommittally as he tongue traced her earlobe. "What's the difference?"

"The difference," she said silkily, while reaching down and under the waistband of his sweats to pinch his butt, "is the difference between a quick jerk in the shower and getting to deflower me."

He laughed against her shoulder, kissed it lightly. "So you keep saying, Gilmore."

Rory grabbed a handful of his hair, pulled his head back so he was looking right at her. Expression serious, sincere, she kept her eyes open as she brushed her lips against his, whispered, "So I keep wanting, Tristan."

Understanding dawned in his eyes and she knew he was going to back away. Swiftly, she banded her arms around him, brought her mouth to his in a feverish kiss before he could bring that wall up between them, before he could push away. "Rory," he panted helplessly, in between her insistent kisses. "We should slow down, Rory."

Frustrated, she shook her head, reached behind her to unclasp her bra and let it fall between them. "Don't want to," she said biting his lower lip, "want to have sex," her tongue glided across his, "with you," she brought his hand up to cup her right breast, "now."

"Fuck Gilmore," he said as his hand squeezed her breast, rolled her hardened nipple between his fingers. "I won't be able to stop if you keep this up."

God he's so daft sometimes, she thought with a sigh. To him, she said, "Don't want you to. Tristan, I want you."

The sharpness of her tone must have registered with him because he studied her face, brows furrowed in concentration as if he was trying to asses how honest she was being. She rolled her eyes and thought, He chases me forever and then when I'm willing and eager he gets scared. So typical. "You're sure?"

She took a deep breath so not to scream before she said, "I'm sure that I'm so wet for you right now I can barely think straight."

His eyes darkened and he swallowed hard. "Rory."

She took the hand that wasn't on her breast and kissed the center of his palm. "And I know that I'm completely in love with you and that I want this to happen."

He laughed and pushed a strand of hair away from her face. "Well, if you insist."

After another searing kiss, he bent down and lifted her into his arms, carrying her to his bed and gently laying her down on it. She sighed indulgently, ran her fingers through his hair as he kissed a path down her stomach, feather-light kisses interspersed with tiny flicks of his tongue. His lips brushed over the cotton of her panties, teasingly, before he straightened to remove his T-shirt.

Despite her bravado, Rory felt nervous as her eyes roamed her boyfriend's naked chest. She figured it was a good thing; she was taking a big step. But looking at Tristan, who had lifted one leg to his shoulder and was currently kissing a path down the inside of her calf, she knew she was in safe hands.

Then, he did something to remove all doubt from her mind. She saw him reach for something on the bedside table and her eyes widened in surprise when she saw it was the remote for his stereo system. As light, sensual music filled the room he smiled at her and shrugged.

Smiling back at him, she thought, God, I love him. Rory could hardly believe it sometimes, but she did and making love to him seemed like the most natural thing in the world.

He was wrong before when he said he put too much pressure on her for sex – she wanted to be with him all along, from the moment he kissed her in her kitchen almost four months ago just to shut her up. This much was clear to her now; sleeping with Tristan was inevitable.

Tristan's talented lips reached her knee, Rory giggled as his nose brushed against the sensitive skin. He smiled against her leg, before taking it and wrapping it around his waist. Bending down, he covered her body with his; trailing kisses down the side of her neck, nibbling on her collarbone. In turn, she ran her hands up and down his back, tracing the muscles there. His hands came up to massage her breasts, cupping them from below, fingers gently teasing her hardened nipples. Rory moaned and arched into him, firmly wrapping her free leg around him, locking him to her.

"I'm starting to think these study session are very useful," Tristan murmured, lips brushing over her breast. Rory gasped as his mouth closed over a nipple and he let out a chuckle. "Very useful. I'm learning so much."

"Yeah?" she asked breathlessly, "Like what?"

"Biology for one," he answered then rolled his tongue around the puckered bud. "Chemistry." His hand ran down her length before coming between them to rest on the cotton of her panties. He lifted his head, met her unfocused gaze and then unceremoniously, moved the restricting material and delved two fingers into her wet heat. "The female anatomy."

Rory didn't hear him; she was too busy being numbed by mindless pleasure as his fingers worked inside her. His thumb brushed against her clit, his mouth returned to her breast and she arched into him, fingers twisting in his hair. Tristan kept a steady rhythm against Rory's most sensitive part in the way that drove her crazy, bringing her so close to the edge that she was panting and moaning in anticipation of release.

But he never let her go over the brink.

"Not without me, Gilmore," he whispered in her ear, tracing the lobe with his tongue. "I want you to come when I'm inside you."

She nearly whimpered, her hips bucking against his seeking fingers, "God, Tristan…please."

"Tell me," he urged silkily. "What do you want?"

"I want," she panted and then gasped when his knuckle brushed, ever so lightly, across her clit, "you."

"You have me," he answered nibbling on her neck as his fingers continued. His erection throbbed through his sweatpants between her thighs, making her shudder. "What do want me to do? Say the words, Rory."

He was torturing her, purposefully making her say things he knew she wanted and felt when she had almost begged him to have sex. Well two can play that game, she thought wickedly, he's taught me that much. Although she was delaying her own pleasure, she knew it would be worth it to get him panting just like her.

With some effort, she grabbed his shoulders and made a whimpering noise to lull him into thinking she was close to the edge again. It worked because he chuckled again, and slid his fingers out of her. Taking the opportunity, Rory pushed and catching him off-guard, rolled them around so that she was on top, legs straddled on either side of him.

Her hair fell like a curtain around her face as she looked down at his surprised face and smirked, "You first, DuGrey."

"Well played, Gilmore."

She reached up to pull her hair up, arching her body back, watching as his eyes followed her movements, gazed hungrily at her breasts. "I'm not playing, Tristan."

He smiled, grabbing her hips and flipping them around again. He bent over her kissed her deeply and pulled away. "I love you, Rory. Is that what you want me to say?"

She twined her arms around his neck. "Only if you want to."

"I want to make love to you."

"Then by all means…"

He kissed her again, one of those hungry, impatient kisses, all teeth and tongue and his hands worked expertly over her body, her breasts, her stomach, her thighs, arousing her.

She strained against him, bucking against his seeking fingers, crying out when they returned to torture her between her wet folds. "Oh…God…Tristan."

"Will you come for me, Rory?" he whispered as he pinched her clit. Head thrown back, fingers clutching his sheets, she rode out the first peak, shuddering, as he watched her, whispering encouraging words.

Rory waited until the tremors subsided and her breathing returned to normal before speaking, "I thought you were gonna…we were, you know, together?"

"We are," he said lazily, as he kissed the side of her neck and his hands wandered down to grab her hips.

"When?" she asked, her hands playing with the hair at his nape.

"Just as soon as you get me out of my pants, Gilmore."

She laughed and reached down, tugging his pants past his ass and grabbing a delicious handful. She kissed his cheek, whispered, "My favorite part."

He half groaned and half laughed as they struggled to get him out his remaining clothes. Once divested of his sweatpants, they huddled together under the covers, exploring each other's bodies with strokes and caresses meant to arouse. His lips brushed over her face, stopping only to nip at her own.

"Part of me can't really believe this is happening," Tristan admitted huskily in her ear as his hands found her breasts again. "Even after everything that's happened."

Rory half-moaned, half-giggled. "I'd say especially after everything that's happened. Or hasn't as the case may be. I know I've made these past few weeks difficult for you."

"Try months," Tristan countered with a chuckled as he kissed the valley between her breasts. "You're worth it."

Rory smiled, ran her hands through his hair and tugged so that he brought his face up to hers for a kiss. In between kisses, she asked, "So are you going to make me wait now too?"

"Don't tempt me." His hand crept to her belly, to the soft curls between her legs as he settled between her legs. His erection pushed against her entrance and he felt her tense, instinctively, he knew, and so he kissed her again. His fingers slipped between her folds, wet and hot, she moaned and arched against him, ready for him. It was a wonder he could keep his wits about him being so close to her core, listening to her breathe in that heady, husky, ragged way of hers.

But he did remember and reached over to his bedside table for the condoms he kept in the top drawer. She watched him, eyes wide as he struggled with the wrapper and then took it from him, tearing it open and pulling the rubber out. She reached for him and smiled lightly, "Let me."

Before she could place the rubber on the tip of his penis, he grabbed her hand let out a strangled chuckle. "Next time, Gilmore. I won't be able to handle this right now."

She blushed sheepishly and relinquished the condom. Once he rolled the condom on and settled between her legs again, she brought her mouth to his and kissed him deeply. His hand returned the place between her legs, intimately exploring her. With his mouth next to her ear, as he prepared her for him, he whispered, "Are you ready for me, Rory?"

When her only response was a breathy groan, he grabbed her hip with one hand thrust inside her.

He gasped and grabbed onto his shoulder as pain ripped through her. "God."

He stayed inside for her a second, letting her adjust to him, even as his entire body screamed for release. She was so wet, so tight, so perfect around him. "Stay with me, baby. Just relax. Rory."

She swallowed, closed her eyes against the discomfort, fighting the urge to push him away. Her voice came out shaky. "Tristan."

"I know, baby," he said, kissing the side of her neck. "I'm going to make it better." He started to move inside her, setting the pace slowly, his hands on her hips as he urged her to move with him.

Rory felt like she was burning. When Tristan started to move inside her, she prepared herself for the pain. But though his actions did cause her some discomfort, the sensation of being ripped apart didn't return. Instead, she found herself moving her hips instinctively in time with his thrusts.

Her eyes flew open and she found her staring into her boyfriend's eyes, darkened with lust as he watched her. She managed a half-smile and brought her hand to his cheek in a sign to let him know she was okay. He turned his face into her hand, kissed the middle of her palm before reaching up and taking both her hands captive in his own.

When Rory closed her eyes again, it wasn't out of discomfort. Gasping, she felt her body lift off the bed as Tristan continued to thrust, felt her orgasm building again as Tristan's lips closed over her nipple.

"Tristan," she moaned, pushing her head back into her pillow as sensations washed over her.

"Rory, Rory, Rory," he chanted, almost sounding delirious, moving faster, his thrust becoming shallower along with his breathing. Rory felt she was almost there, one more thrust and she'd peaked but Tristan stilled above her suddenly and let out a groan.

After a minute or so, he collapsed on top of her, letting go of her wrists and instinctively, she brought her hands to the small of his back, rubbing circles as his muscles quivered under her fingertips. "Hey," she whispered, her fingers curling around the base of his spine.

"Hey," he returned softly. "I'm sorry you didn't get to…"

"I did before," she reminded him as he breathed heavily against her neck. "Was it you…I mean, for you, was it…good?"

He laughed and lifted his face just barely so their eyes met. "Yeah, it was."

She beamed at him even as her limbs suddenly started to feel heavy. "So that was sex, huh?"

"Pretty much. It gets better."

"Really?" she asked, unable to keep the glee out of her voice. "Soon?"

"Insatiable wench," Tristan murmured as he rolled them, still inside her, onto his side. "Gimme about a few minutes then we'll see."

Delighted, she spooned against him and sighed, "I'm going to take a nap then."

"Okay," he answered, sounding sleepy as well. Sleepy, satisfied and sated. "Hey Ror?"

"Hmm?"

"Can I still call you Mary?"

She laughed and curled her hand in his. "Yes, please do."

To Be Continued…

Author's Note: Originally, this was supposed to be the last chapter but then I changed my mind. An epilogue is next. Thanks to everyone for their patience, I realized it took me a very long time to get this up. Let's hope it doesn't happen again.