Maybe Baby (41 page)

“Signor Trey,” Carmelita gushed, “sono molto contento di rivederti con questa bella ragazza. Non posso tollerare che brutta strega sei venuto qui con l’ultima volta. Spero che sia finita!”

Mr. Trey, I am so happy to see you back with this beautiful girl. I cannot tolerate that nasty witch you came in here with last time. I hope that's finished!

Ah hah! Trey had brought Charlotte back in here. Carmelita wanted me to know. Carmelita glanced over at me as she released Trey from her sturdy embrace. I gave her a slight nod to let her know I appreciated the heads up.

“La ringrazio, Carmelita,” Trey said, laughter in his eyes. “Avete la mia parola la strega non sarà di nuovo qui con me sempre! Saremo al nostro solito tavolo?”

Thank you, Carmelita. You have my word the witch will not be back here with me ever. We will be dining at our usual table please?

“Ma naturalmente, si prego di venire in questo modo.”

But of course, please come this way.

My feelings were hurt, but I had to contain my emotions for now. I followed as Carmelita seated us at “our” table.

She handed each of us a menu, snapping her fingers for a server to fill our water glasses. “Un momento,” Carmelita said, hurrying over to scold a busboy who was noisily clearing a table.

“What was all that about when we came in?”

“All what about?”

I know the truth, Sinclair.

“All that Italian gibberish going back and forth between you and Carmelita when we first got here. I don’t understand why she doesn’t use English when she talks to you.”

“She was simply telling me that she was glad to see you and me; that she thinks you’re beautiful. I agreed with her that you're by far the most beautiful woman on earth and that you're mine,” he said sweetly, taking my hand in his and raising it to his lips.

Not a totally accurate translation, Sinclair. Nice touch with the charm.

I gazed sweetly at Trey, squeezing his hand. Carmelita arrived back at the table, smiling.

“Quale vino vi bere, Signor Trey?”

What wine will you be drinking this evening Mr. Trey?

“A Tuscano merlot will be fine, Carmelita. Just a glass for me please, Tylar is abstaining,” Trey said, not answering her in Italian this time. He was evidently tired of me asking him to interpret their conversations. She nodded and was off.

I took a sip of my water, noticing how handsome Trey looked in his suit. It was a dark grey flannel; the front-pleated trousers hung low on his narrow hips. He'd worn a white dress shirt and a scarlet silk tie. I was wearing a curve-hugging Nicole Miller maternity dress that made me feel like a model, with my new black ‘fuck me’ heels, against Trey’s advice.

They were high black spikes with chrome metal heels, ankle wraps, and a metal toe plate in chrome to match the heels. When Trey saw me putting them on he did a double take.

“You aren’t seriously wearing those shoes outside are you?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Those shoes are not meant to go beyond the bedroom!” He held the shoe I’d yet to put on in his hand, examining the metal heel.

“What?” I asked, feeling mocked.

“Baby, these shoes were made to dig into somebody’s back while he’s fucking you; these shoes weren't made for walking.”

“Give me that,” I hissed, snatching my shoe from him. I blushed at his assessment, but filed it away for future reference.

Trey silently studied me from across the table. I took another sip of water, trying to figure out what was on his mind. It was quite warm in the restaurant this evening. Carmelita returned with a glass of merlot for Trey. Trey ordered for both of us, knowing that I wasn't picky when it came to Italian cuisine. He raised his wineglass for a toast.

“To the most beautiful woman I've ever met, being here with me tonight in our special restaurant.”

Hmm -
wonder if he made that same toast to Charlotte.

“Per la salute, Tylar,” he finished, clinking his wine glass against my raised water goblet.

I waited until he took a long, leisurely swallow of his wine. “Trey, vorrei sapere si questa è la tavola con la tua puttana Charlotte? A proposito, hai scopata?”

Trey, I would like to know if this is your table with your whore Charlotte as well. By the way, did you fuck her?

Trey choked, as I expected, desperately holding his napkin up to his mouth to stifle his involuntary coughing. Carmelita rushed to his aid, patting his back.

“Non vi piace il vino, Signor Trey?” she asked, her voice filled with concern.

Is the wine not to your liking, Mr. Trey?

Trey was still hacking, unable to respond. I took the liberty of answering for him.

“Il vino va bene, Carmelita. Era qualcosa che non andava bene.”

The wine is fine, Carmelita. It was something else that did not sit well.

I saw the flicker of amusement cross her face; Trey was still busy composing himself and did not notice the look that passed between Carmelita and me. She left the table seeing that Trey was regaining his composure. He took several gulps of water, eyeing me suspiciously.

“So,” I said, “are you going to answer my questions?”

“Why did you pretend not to understand Italian?”

“That’s not an answer,” I retorted. “Have you slept with anyone else since we made our baby?” I wasn’t sure why that was so important to me, but it was. I was more sad than mad that he'd brought Charlotte to “our spot.”

“For God’s sake, Tylar, lower your voice,” he pleaded, looking around at nearby tables where a few snickers could be heard.

“I’m waiting,” I said, quieter, arms crossed. I tapped one of my stilettos impatiently against the leg of my chair. Trey leaned in close, looking directly into my eyes.

“No, the answer to your question, to both of your questions is ‘no.’”

I believed him but my feelings were still raw. The server brought our salads and warm bread on a cutting board. My hunger had dissipated. I needed some answers.

“I know that you were seeing Charlotte again, Trey. I remember that you made it a point one night of blowing me off because she was at the manor with you.”

“Tylar, as God is my witness, I've never done more than kiss the witch. I promise you that. If you recall, I thought that you were seeing Mark…that you two were involved. It hurt me. As sophomoric as it sounds, I admit that I used Charlotte to show you that I was getting on with my life.”

“I see,” I said, keeping my emotions in check. “So Trey, you thought that I was seeing Mark. Did you think that I was sleeping with him, too?”

“Yes, the thought crossed my mind, more often than I liked as a matter of fact.” He visibly blanched at that question.

“So you admit you were behaving sophomorically in trying to get on with your life. I can’t believe that hooking up with Charlotte wouldn’t have occurred to you. Maybe it would have given you some closure in some way on our relationship?”

He lowered his head and I could tell by his body language I'd hit pay dirt. “I’m going to be honest with you Tylar, because you deserve that and it might sound messed up, but it's the truth.”

Oh God, what's he going to tell me?

“I know everything about your sexual history; you know none of mine. That’s not fair and I believe that you have a right to know. So here it is. The first girl I was ever with was Tess. I was 17, she was 16. I was faithful to her until she ended it. After that, I didn’t get involved in relationships. I'd no desire to ever put myself in a situation that would devastate me like that again.”

He took a sip of his wine and continued. “I’ve had casual dates that included casual sex with several women over the past few years since Tess. That’s probably what Charlotte would have been to me had I not met you. Once the woman wanted an exclusive relationship, I bailed. I’m not proud of that, but it's the truth.”

He paused as our entrées arrived. “After you left me, I called Charlotte. I wanted something to distract me from the emptiness I felt. It was a mistake.”

I kept silent, waiting for him to continue. I knew there was more.

“We dated off and on. I was spending more time in Atlanta since you left. Until then, nothing had happened between Charlotte and me, though I knew that she was willing. She came to spend a weekend with me in Atlanta. We went out drinking. I was struggling to get over you.”

He stopped, took another drink of his wine, and I saw a smile flicker across his face. What did he find amusing about any of this? I felt that I was on the verge of being crushed.

“We were in the limo on the way back to my apartment. Charlotte was trying her best to seduce me. Don’t get me wrong, I'd every intention of hooking up that night. I wanted to wash away the emptiness. She unzipped my fly and went down on me.”

Did I really want to hear this?

“Nothing happened,” he said, “I couldn’t . . . uh, rise to the occasion. She wasn’t
you
. I hadn’t even touched her. She disgusted me. I finally told her to stop. I told the driver to take her to the Marriott close to my apartment. I handed her some money and told her to get a room for the night, that I'd ship her luggage back to her.”

How humiliating for her, I thought. My hormones were giggling and snickering. “What'd she say to you?” I asked, genuinely curious.

“I believe she called me an impotent faggot and told me to burn in hell,” he smiled, showing his dimple. I couldn’t resist laughing.

“Well, I mean eventually you'd have been able to perform sexually I’m sure,” I commented.

“I hope I never have to test your theory,” he responded. “So am I forgiven?”

“You don’t need to ask for forgiveness. I’m relieved that you couldn’t get it up; I won’t lie about that. I don’t like thinking about you being with anyone else, but given your past with Tess, I see why you can be emotionally distant.”

He nodded and reached out, capturing a lock of my hair between his fingers.

“Now,” he said, pulling his hand back, “are we going to eat this food that’s getting cold?”

“Let’s see if Carmelita could have someone box it up to go.”

“You’re not feeling well, Tylar?”

“No, I’m fine Trey. It’s just that I’d prefer to eat this in the privacy of your room, later. I need to make love with you, now."

He gave me a startled smile, signaling our waiter over. “Italian food is much better warmed up anyway,” he remarked, giving me a wink.

His story about not getting hard for Charlotte had turned me on. I'd taken my stilettos off in the car, holding them in my hands. Rushing through the front door, we ran hand in hand up the steps to his suite. Trey pulled my dress over my head and I sat on the bed, rolling my lacey thigh-highs down my leg.

“Leave them on,” Trey instructed. I shrugged, rolling the stocking back up. I had black lacy panties on, and my new black push-up bra. Trey handed me my stilettos, “Put them on.”

I slipped them back on my feet, clasping the leather around the ankle. Trey led me over to his bed; he was completely naked, his member fully erect. He pulled me against him, his mouth finding mine in a hot, passionate kiss. His teeth lightly tugged at my lower lip. His mouth devoured mine, his tongue thrusting inside my mouth. His hands captured my breasts in a strong grip. He was rougher than usual, and I liked it.

He lifted me up, tossing me on my back in the center of the bed. Spreading my legs apart with his knees, he knelt over me. With his mouth, he freed my breast from the cup and hungrily licked the erect nipple, gently biting it bringing me to the fine line between pleasure and pain. Instantly, I could feel my wetness.

He let me keep my panties on, and pushed them to the side. Trey raised himself over me, and I watched as he guided himself inside f me. The elastic around the leg opening that was pulled aside rested against my clitoris. As Trey pulled in and out, the tension on the elastic flicked against my bud..

“Put your legs up around my back,” he instructed. I obeyed; my ‘fuck me’ heels dug into his muscular back.

His momentum increased, my hips rising to meet his every thrust. The sound of skin slapping skin was loud. He moaned then changed his tempo to slower, circular motions. I lowered my legs so that my heels now dug into his ass, kneading his gorgeous cheeks with the pointy steel toes as they circled over and over. I could feel the swell of my sweet spot spreading the warmth inside me with pleasure-filled spasms.

“You feel so good inside me,” I said hoarsely, pounding my pelvis against him, grinding my heels into him.

“Mmmm…It’s yours,” he said, “no one else’s, ever.”

I was ready and he knew it. His arms were beneath me, lifting my backside up slightly, tilting me so that he had full access to my sweet spot, the elastic on my panties continued straining across my clitoris. I was building toward dual climaxes.

I moaned loudly as both climaxes spiraled around me taking control of every nerve and muscle in my body. I moaned, my mouth hot against his neck.

He was climaxing now around me. His thrusts pounded into me, forcing my orgasm to go on and on.

Afterward, we both lay there totally spent and totally satisfied.

“I love you so much, Tylar,” he said, softly.

Overwhelmed with emotion, we drank in the closeness and intimacy we'd found. I didn’t want anything to break the spell and connection that we still had.

The room had cooled down somewhat. We hadn’t bothered to get beneath the covers. Our clammy skin rose with goose bumps. I pulled off my spiked heels and tossed them over the side of the bed. We pulled the covers over us and cuddled. The room smelled like sex; our sex. I loved it. Trey placed his hand on my bump, which seemed to be growing a bit every day. It was if our baby knew Trey was there. Usually within a minute or two, the stronger butterfly movements would start. Tonight was no different. The expression on Trey’s face never changed. It was as if he was feeling the baby’s movement for the first time every time.

“What?” I asked, noticing him staring at me.

“I don’t want to break the spell, but we do need to talk about our situation,” he said, his tone serious. “I want us to be married.”

Chapter 42