The Baby He Wants: A BWWM Pregnancy Romance (15 page)

"Here?
In this super classy penthouse looking like it was lifted whole from
different strokes? Such a wholesome show too…"

"Ha.
I bet it wouldn’t be the first time that set saw some action.
Didn’t you read that book Willis wrote?" Tristan took his
feet off the table and picked up a sheaf of Ava's notes.

"
You
read the book Willis wrote? Now that’s just wrong," Ava
said dryly. She was pretty turned on, but she didn't have to admit
it.

"Ava,
are you saying you're not woman enough for a sex marathon?"

Ava
narrowed her eyes. "That's your play here? Seriously?"

Tristan
gave her a sunny smile and sucked some trace amount of chicken salad
off his fingers. "It's okay, you know. A lot of girls are just
not interested in sex once the ring is on their finger."

"Hilarious,
Tristan."

Now
Tristan was doodling on
Ava's fucking
work
, probably a cock and balls and/or
a pair of boobs. "If you screw up my notes—"

"You'll
spank me?"

Ava
jolted upright and the book clattered to the floor under the table.
Not because of the lame innuendo; because Tristan's foot was suddenly
in her crotch. "Tristan," she said in warning.

"Well,
I guess I don't have to mail-order another bride just yet." He
said, eyes on the pin points that were her nipples.

Ava took
hold of Tristan's ankle and deliberately removed the foot from her
lap before getting down under the table to retrieve her book. "Come
on, Ava," she heard Tristan say through the tabletop. "All
work and no play makes you a cranky hormonal bundle of nerves."

Ava
snaked one arm out and up to slap the book back onto the table. "I
guess we'll just have to see."

She had
got Tristan's spread legs before her. Solid hardwood inched over her
head didn't give Ava a lot of room to work with, but something about
the view was appealing. She could smell the clean laundry smell off
of Tristan's blue jeans from here.

Tristan
jumped when Ava wrapped one hand around each ankle and ran them
slowly up the inside of Tristan's calves. Touch through fabric is
better than skin-on-skin, sometimes. Ava ought to know; Tristan's
used it on her once or twice.

"Next
time you're trying to sell somebody on a wild orgy, you might want to
brush up on your foreplay," Ava said. "Footsie's only kinky
in public."

"Yeah,
whatever. Just try not to knock yourself out cold on the goddamned
table." Ava slid her hands forward and rocked her thumbs into
the inside of Tristan's thighs, just above the knee.
"
Fuck
shitsonofabitch."

"I'm
sorry, Tristan, tell me again about how repressed I am?"

She
could feel Tristan's eyes on the top of her head but didn't look up.
Flexing her hands over his thighs she pressed her nose into the
inseam of his jeans below one knee, breathed in, and felt the shiver.

Tristan's
voice was gravelly. "You going to do something anytime soon or
wh—"

Ava took
hold of the chair leg and thrust it back. The extra couple of feet
gave her room to come up between Tristan's legs, pop the button on
his jeans, and hook her thumbs into the waistband; Tristan grunted
and wriggled a little to help Ava pull the fabric open far enough.
His cock was rising through the slit of his boxers, and Ava could
work around them, but she hated getting mouthfuls of cotton, so she
reached around to take Tristan's Gerber from the table top, snapped
it open, and cut through the boxers' elastic before Tristan could do
more than hiss at the touch of metal on his belly. Ava closed the
blade. Tristan was turned on enough that his hips were already
rocking up, but he still shoved one hand under the table and snapped
his fingers impatiently until Ava slapped the knife back into his
palm.

Then Ava
swallowed him down.

Ava
liked giving blow jobs. There was something about it that was almost
meditative; she could drop away into a certain space inside her head,
where Tristan's groans and panting echoed just that bit more loudly
and the smell of him replaced oxygen. She slid her hands around and
under Tristan's ass, dug her fingers into the denim, and pulled him
up, further into her mouth. Loved it. Loved pulling those sounds out
of him; it made her feel strangely powerful.

She
vaguely felt Tristan's hands tangled in her hair. "Jesus, Ava,
yeah, like that—"

Spit was
getting everywhere. All over her face, down into the hair on
Tristan's balls, onto the front of Tristan's freshly laundered blue
jeans. Ava made a small noise around the penis in her mouth and
sucked harder.

Tristan
came in minutes, flooding Ava's mouth with the taste, and it was
almost more than she could take, combined with her own saliva. But
she managed. Come isn't a flavor she much relished, but once it hit
air it became revolting, so she swallowed unfailingly. Religiously,
you might even say.

Tristan
slumped back in his chair. Through her own unrelieved arousal, Ava
realized that the floor was killing her knees. Moving carefully, she
extracted herself from Tristan's lap and the table and stood, rubbing
a crick out of her neck. She spared Tristan a smirk.

"I
take it back. I take everything back." Tristan said.

"Yeah,
you better," Ava smugly replied.

"Come
here and sit on me," Tristan invited.

Ava
started to retort, but a tickle at the back of her throat stopped
her. It felt like the come she just swallowed wanted to come right
back up her throat and nausea made her stomach heave. This was not
good.

"You
okay?" Tristan was terrible at faking casual.

Ava
blinked to clear her watering eyes. Tristan was standing with one
hand poised in midair in a way that he probably thought was subtle,
as if he was waiting for Ava to collapse. She leaped for the kitchen
sink which was the nearest and threw up mainly bile and semen,
disgusting to look at but not life threatening. She quickly washed it
away and rinsed her mouth, faintly embarrassed to have puked but
blaming it squarely on her stupid hormones.

Ava
straightened up and saw worry in Tristan's eyes, and fuck that.

She
checked Tristan up against the door frame, hard. Tristan’s eyes
widen in surprise but he loosened himself, letting her have her way
with him. His eyes lit up with lust at the same time, nostrils
flaring, pupils dilating. It did something to Ava’s insides to
see him responding like that to her and she felt her body tremble
with her reaction.

Ava
yanked Tristan's jeans down. "I'm fine." She asserted.

Tristan
was just watching her, pants around his knees and a glow in his eyes
like a well sated predator. It offended Ava that he could look so
relaxed when he should look ridiculous. She stepped in and started
working on Tristan's shirt, fumbling with the buttons and stripping
it down his arms while Tristan kicked his jeans and the remains of
his boxers the rest of the way off. Ava got her mouth on Tristan's
neck while Tristan shoved his hands up underneath Ava's tee shirt,
and at least now she could hear the unsteadiness in Tristan's
breathing when he bit down and sucked on her nipple. Concrete rasped
against her hands as she pressed herself languidly against Tristan's
belly, making him feel her where she's softest. Tristan started
making noises and grappling with Ava's belt, and maybe that was a
little gratifying.

Once
Tristan had her belt open, he tore open her buttons and zipper,
pulling her slacks down with such gusto that he scratched her down
the thigh.

“
Oh
sorry,” he murmured as he placed his mouth on the mark he’d
made.

“
It's
fine. Get them
off,
”
Ava said impatiently, pulling her legs up to help the process along.
As soon as they were gone Tristan lifted her up, turned her to face
the wall and thrust into her without further ado.

The
cotton of Tristan's undershirt grated against the wall with each
heavy, deliberate thrust. Ava had her eyes closed and her teeth on
Tristan's neck, but she was listening. She didn’t miss the
catches in Tristan's breath or the drag of his nails on Ava's ass or
the fact that his cock could pound nails it was so hard. She
cataloged them all, the way she did her music notes and record player
collection. Tristan dipped his head to chase Ava's mouth, but Ava
wanted to keep some wits about her and pay attention to everything
else so she gave him her neck instead; her jaw; her nose.

It
lasted even less time than the blow job; Ava found the edge of her
own arousal and focused on nothing but getting where she wanted to
go. She felt the end coming, wrapped both hands and feet around
Tristan as he thrust home one last time.

Head
against the wall, Ava gave herself a moment to catch her breath.
Tristan lowered her back to the floor and she stepped away
unsteadily, still slightly dizzy from the orgasm. She leaned down
slowly, picked up her slacks and put them on; one leg at a time. She
looked around for her shirt but couldn’t see it. Tristan
continued to lean against the wall looking dazed. Finally, she
spotted her shirt and vest and went to put them on. Then she sat back
down to her notes and took a bite of the chicken sandwich.

She
pretended she didn't notice Tristan gaping at her.

Finally
Tristan's head thunked back against the wall before there was the
rustle of him retrieving his pants off the floor. "I'm gonna pay
you back for that one."

"Uh-huh,"
Ava said serenely, without looking up.

"And
now I've got to change my damned underwear."

"Unaccustomed
for you, I know."

"Screw
you."

Smugness
blended with the burn in Ava's chest until it was almost enjoyable.
"Little late for that."

She
didn't see Tristan run his tongue over his lips, tasting them
thoughtfully.

*****

“
The
jig is up. Your mother knows,” Jensen said a few days later
coming into Tristan’s office with the day’s reports.

“
Oh
yeah? What does she know?”

“
That
you’ve been shacking up with,” Jensen held up both hands
in the air to make air quotes, “that pregnant girl.”

“
What
else does she know?” Tristan asked willing his hands not to
shake.

“
Nothing.
But it won’t be long before she finds out you’re married.
You know how she gets. You need to tell her.”

“
I
need to tell a lot of people. Doesn’t mean I want to.”

“
Ah.
If only this was about what you
want,
”
Jensen said in his bored voice. “Would you rather TMZ found out
before Savannah did?”

“
Fuck.
Who’d tell them?” he dropped the reports seriously
worried. “That Bob guy? He’s friends with Ava, I’m
pretty sure he wouldn’t want to see her hurt.”

Jensen
shrugged. “They seem to have access to court records and your
marriage is registered,” he pointed out.

“
Yeah
and they’re not the only ones,” Tristan sighed deeply.
“Jensen, I need you to find out when everyone is available and
organize a sit down dinner for us. We need to talk.”

“
Already
on it. Tuesday next week seems open for all. Unless Ava decides to
attend that special night class with Jimmy Owen. I’m sure you
can persuade her this is slightly more urgent though,” Jensen
said sifting papers on the desk into order.

“
I’m
sure I can,” Tristan said absently. “Not looking forward
to it though.”

Jensen
actually reached forward and patted Tristan on the shoulder
commiseratingly.

“
All
the more reason to do it as soon as possible,” he said.

Tristan
sighed again.

“
Oh
and you need to call Savannah; she’s left five messages
already.”

*****

“
Hello,” Tristan heard her say as his
call was picked up.

“
Hey
Savannah, how are you doing?”

“
Not
great. My fiancé asked me to marry him and then I haven’t
seen him for like three months."

“
It
isn’t three months! More like two,” Tristan said in a
small voice. “It's good I have you on the line though because I
wanted to invite you for dinner next Tuesday. There’s some
things we need to discuss.”

“
Indeed
there are.”

“
Great.
So I’ll see you then?”

“
Yes.”

*****

“
Hello
mother.”

“
Tristan.
This is a surprise.”

“
Why
do you say that?”

“
Oh,
I was under the impression that you’d gone radio silent on me.
I haven’t heard from or seen you in a while.”

“
I’ve
been…occupied mother. But I wanted to invite you for dinner on
Tuesday. My place. Savannah is coming too. We need to talk.”

“
Indeed
we do.”

“
So
I’ll see you?”

“
Of
course.”

*****

“
Hey
babe.”

“
Oh.
We’re doing babe now? Okay and what shall I call you?
Sweetums?”

“
Very
funny. You have anything going on Tuesday night?”

“
I
might.”

“
Cancel
it.”

“
Why?”

“
It's
time.”

“
It
is?”

“
Yes.”