**Part 2**
Rory was glad her mother had not waited up for her tonight. She was is no mood to meet the inquisitive gaze of Lorelai Gilmore as her mother tried to ascertain, by looking alone, how far her daughter had gone this time. It was demeaning, it was insulting, and lately, it was a little too accurate for comfort.
Rory sighed as she entered her room and closed the door behind her. The day had not ended as she had hoped; it hadn't in a while. As she undressed for the night she thought about Tristan and how upset he had looked when he dropped her off. Well maybe not upset, serious, thoughtful… like he was trying to figure out something but wasn't sure where to start. She looked at herself in the mirror… was she upset? She wasn't even sure anymore. She'd had plenty of time to simmer down on the silent ride home.
Tristan had kissed her goodnight but he might as well have been kissing his aunt Petunia with the hairy mole on her chin… there was no passion in the kiss, no heat. That bothered her. Sure she had pushed Tristan back before things got a little too intense, again, but it took an enormous effort in her part to do so. In fact, she realized as she saw her reflection in the mirror... that she was still breathing a little heavily, the fire in her belly not entirely extinguished. Just being around Tristan did things to her body she could not easily explain and it bothered her that Tristan could "disconnect" so easily from her. Their last time came to mind then and she turned red just thinking about it. She was terribly embarrassed of what had happened and did not want something like that to happen again; well she did, just not like that. The problem was that if Tristan pressed, she was really not sure she could hold out much longer.
Rory sighed thinking of the effect Tristan had on her, maybe it was the heat; she told herself as she slipped under her sheets in little more than a thin tank, it was just too hot for anything else. She closed her eyes remembering their tongues clashing earlier that day… hungrily, passionately. Her dainty hand roaming over the sculpted lines of his stomach… She traced around the bottom her shirt as she recalled his hands working magic on her skin leaving little traces of electricity wherever they touched her; and with her encouragement, they touched her everywhere… Just the thought of Tristan made Rory break out in a sweat and she exhaled loudly pushing the sheets back and away from her body. Too hot. Her fingers slowly traced around the swell of her left breast under her tank-top… feeling what Tristan must have felt when he traced his tongue around her-
Rory opened her mouth to let out a gasp as her body shuddered but a sound from upstairs stopped her cold. Rory sat up, ears perked before slumping her shoulders in recognition. The sound was unmistakable; Lorelai was having problems sleeping as well, it had to be the heat.
Summers were just bad for Gilmores Rory decided right then, trying to ignore the muffled groans and frustrated gasps, a clear indication of her mother's bedroom activities. One day, she'd have to tell her mother about the A/C duct, but obviously not tonight. Tonight, Lorelai would sleep like a baby and Rory would count the frames in her room, there were five. Any thought of Rory finishing what Tristan had started was long, gone out the window... The fire in her belly? A pool of ice. Somehow the idea of masturbating alongside her mother was something she did not find one bit appealing. However, her mother did help her make up her mind. She wanted Tristan; she couldn't deny herself that anymore if she tried her hardest. She wanted him and realized there was no reason to resort to what her mother was doing upstairs when she had a willing (and more than able!) participant to lend her a hand… among other things. Rory put a pillow over her head to try to drown out the sounds of her mother's upcoming climax and decided once and for all, to let Tristan know she was ready. She couldn't even remember why she'd been pushing him back to begin with anymore…