MAYBE BABY

by ANDREA SMITH

  (Tonight’s the night my vixen id confirmed to the tune of the old Rod Stewart song.)

  I woke up to a dark room. I momentarily felt alarmed until I remembered where I was now. I heard the shower going in the bathroom. The clock on Trey’s nightstand read 11:33. It was an hour and a half later I realized. Trey and I still needed to have our talk.

  The shower stopped and I could hear him rummaging around in the bathroom, brushing his teeth and blowing his hair dry for about three minutes. The bathroom door opened and he flipped off the light as he came into the bedroom. He had no shirt on and a pair of silk boxers. His stomach was flat and taut. He climbed into the bed next to me, setting the alarm. I moved over to him and kissed his face.

  “Did I wake you, baby?” he asked, turning over and pulling me close.

  “I expected you to wake me, Trey, we are supposed to discuss tomorrow, remember?”

  “It’s all taken care of,” he announced. “I called Rebecca and she will swing by here about 8:45 in the morning to pick you up for work, okay?”

  “Great,” I said, happily.

  “She will promptly drop you back off here at 4:15 p.m. after your shift.”

  “Trey,” I started with a hint of a whine, “I don’t really think I’m comfortable staying here without you being here. I just feel weird about it.”

  “Nonsense, Tylar, I’ve made concessions for you, now turnabout is fair play. This is where I want you this week, understood?”

  “Whatever,” I snarled in my best bratty tone.

  I turned my back to him, scooting out of his reach and pulling the covers up to my chin. I dozed off again briefly, waking a bit later, feeling Trey’s warmth right next to me. I was sleeping on my side, and he was on his side, right behind me. His right arm was flung over my shoulder his hand resting inches from my right breast. His hand was close enough that the warmth from it caused my nipple to go erect. It was a very pleasant feeling. His breathing was even and steady, I was fairly certain he was sleeping.

  As I lay there, I wanted to know what it felt like to have Trey’s hand on my bare breast. I raised my right arm slowly to where my hand could lift his hand, very, very gently. I moved his hand to just inside the covers, moving the covers down below my shoulders with my left hand. My left hand pulled down the neckline of my silk nightgown to expose my right breast. Very slowly and very gently I placed Trey’s right hand on top of my now exposed right breast.

  (Okkkaay, that doesn’t necessarily do a lot for me). I got that it was warm, and it was Trey’s hand for which I was very partial, but in the scheme of things, I did not understand what all the fuss was about. I mean, it didn’t appear to be doing much for him, either. It wasn’t like the skin-to-skin proximity of male hand on female breast automatically brought about electrical horny shock waves to either one of us, asleep or not.

  I decided to take my little experiment a bit further. I moved my left hand up which was on the inside and placed it very gently on top of Trey’s right hand which was still resting on my bare right breast. My left hand started moving Trey’s right hand in slow, circular motions cupping my right breast.

  (Hmmm, this was a bit better.)

  Perhaps, if I took my left hand, and spread his fingers out a bit, it would be more like he was gripping it; it would offer a bit more ---

  “What, are you doing, Tylar?”

  Trey had raised himself up behind me, now leaning on his left arm, with his face resting on his left hand. I noticed he hadn’t taken his right hand off of my breast which was a good sign.

  “Nothing,” I answered, “Just a little experiment. Go back to sleep.”

  “I hardly think so,” he growled, rolling me over onto my back and positioning himself above me.

  He moved his hand from my breast. (Damn!) He pinned both of my arms above me, interlocking the fingers of each of his hands into the ones on mine. It was very intimate. I had goose bumps. He lowered his head to mine, and his mouth found mine in an instant. His kiss was passionate and hungry and mine matched his with the same intensity.

  He released my hands and I immediately placed them on the back of his head, his hair still damp from the shower. I covered his lips and his face with kisses. I couldn’t get enough of him. I pulled him down on top of me full weight. I could feel his hardness and I wanted it. Putting both of my hands beneath his firm ass, I pulled him closer. He quickly moved off of me, pulling himself up into a sitting position.

  His breathing was heavy and ragged.

  “Tylar, we talked about this remember?”

  “No, Trey, you talked and I listened. I wasn’t part of the decision making process and that doesn’t work for me,” I stated matter-of-factly.

  He didn’t know what to make of this.

  “How do you think it makes me feel, Trey? I know I’m damaged goods. But the fact that you won’t touch me, makes me feel worse about that, not better.”

  “Baby,” he said, “Do you know how much I want to touch you? Do you know how much right this minute; I want to be inside of you?”

  “Then why aren’t you?” I asked. “What are you afraid of?”

  His eyes darkened.

  “I will tell you what I am afraid of Tylar. I’m afraid of starting something that we can’t finish. I’m afraid that I may do one little thing, or maybe a couple of little things that will send you reeling back in time to some sick memory or childhood dream. I don’t want to be the person that evokes some deep dark memory or painful experience you’ve tucked away in your sub-conscious because you haven't come to terms with it yet. I want to be the person that is there for you once you have found the answers, and works with you to chase those demons away.”

  “That is so honorable, Trey,” I lashed out. “You want me to find the answers somehow, someway, and then you’ll be there for me to help sort them out, right? Isn’t that kind of like sending me down into the coal mine alone, but being there for me if and when I come out, to help me weigh the coal and decide what to do with it?”

  “That’s a total misrepresentation of what I said,” he snapped.

  “Oh, is it?” I screamed.

  I didn’t give a damn if I woke Thatcher and the rest of the servants.

  “The fact you won’t touch me makes me feel damaged and undesirable,” I snapped.

  I threw the sheets back, and whipped my nightgown up and over my head. I sat up and pulled my silk panties down to my ankles tossing them off the bed. I was totally naked, and the light coming in from the window of the starry night, was plenty bright to for him to see everything. I switched the bedside lamp on so that nothing was left to his imagination. He was watching me but made no move to touch me.

  “I see,” I said, slowly, feeling the rejection deep inside. “I’ll never be good enough for you, will I Trey?”

  “What?” he choked.

  I stood before him, by the side of the bed where I had scrambled out to give him full and total view of my nakedness.

  “I bared myself to you this evening with what I told you, because you demanded an answer. I am baring myself to you now with my body, and I am demanding an answer from you. Show me where I’m damaged, Trey.”

  He continued to stare at me with those exquisitely blue eyes; but he was unreadable. He didn’t say a word; his silence spoke volumes. I could stand the rejection no more. I grabbed my discarded clothes from the floor and fled to the bathroom. I shrugged my pink robe on and headed back out opening his bedroom door.

  “Where are you going?” he questioned me with alarm.

  “To find another bedroom to sleep in for tonight.”

  There was certainly no shortage of bedrooms in this beautiful mansion. There was, unfortunately, a shortage of understanding and compassionate boyfriends. Was he really even my boyfriend? Perhaps I presumed too much. It was conceivable that he simply considered me to be an enigma; one that intrigued him, at least for now.

  I located a small empty bedroom down the hall, and around the corner from Trey’s wing. T
he wall switch turned on the light located on the nightstand next to the made up double bed. It was a pleasant enough room; definitely free of distractions. I surrendered to a peaceful, non-eventful slumber.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Trey was in my “new” bedroom at 6:30 the next morning, waking me from my restful sleep as he sat down on the bed beside me.

  He was dressed impeccably in a pale blue oxford button-down collar dress shirt that brought out the intensity of his sapphire blue eyes, His gray, tailored fit, pleated front trousers accentuated his lean, muscular build. The gray and blue Repp striped silk tie made his Armani traveling executive ensemble complete.

  “Tylar,” he said all business-like, “I’m getting ready to take off for the airport. I just wanted to make sure you are settled in.”

  He looked around the room as if seeing it for the first time. “There are larger rooms available, Tylar – “

  “This one suits me fine,” I cut in.

  I was irritated that Trey made no reference to our discussion last night. I thought he might be somewhat apologetic, but that was not the case.

  “Okay, then, well you have some time to get your things from my suite and get situated in here then before you leave for work. Thatcher will get you anything you might need if you let him know.”

  “Fine,” I answered, not meeting his gaze.

  “Don’t forget, Rebecca will be by to pick you up for work this morning around 8:45.”

  (Yes, dad)

  “She will bring you back here after work as well,” he reminded me again.

  “Tylar, I expect you to be here all week as instructed.” (Control freak)

  “I will give you a call when I can, but my schedule with the trial is fairly brutal. You can always leave a message for me on my cell and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. I left my business card with all of my contact information in Atlanta on top of your suitcase back in my room.”

  At this point, I was merely nodding my head each time I received an instruction or piece of information from him, half-listening. I wanted to go back to sleep.

  “I guess that’s it, unless you have any questions for me?”

  “Nope,” I answered rolling over so that my back was to him. “Have a safe trip.”

  “Have a good week, Tylar,” he said.

  I felt the bed shift as he got up from it presumably to take his leave. My eyes welled up with tears. I’m not sure why. I closed them tightly, trying to get the image of him out of my mind.

  “There is one other thing,” I heard his soft, silky voice. He was right next to me now. He had come around to the other side of the bed, and was down on his haunches, right in front of me. He leaned over, his thumb brushing a tear that had spilled from my cheek. He kissed me softly on my lips, stroking my hair. I threw my covers back a bit, raising myself to my knees to be level with him. I laced my arms around his neck and buried my face against his shoulder. He smelled so good. I was probably leaving tear stains on his impeccably ironed oxford shirt. He pressed me to him, his chin resting on my hair.

  “Will you promise to be a good girl while I’m gone, please? I don’t want to be worried about you during this trial.”

  “Yes, I promise, Trey.”

  He gave me another squeeze, kissing the top of my head. I pulled back, lifting my face upward to his. He lowered his face to mine and we kissed again, this time our lips moving sensually in a more impassioned manner. I wanted him to remember this kiss not the pouty one.

  I pressed myself to him, and my teeth gently tugged at his lower lip as we slowly parted. And then he was gone. I heard the front entrance doors downstairs slam a few minutes later.

  The bedroom I was in faced the front of the manor, and the circular driveway was in plain view from the window. I could see out from the corner of my bed, through the sheers on the window. A limo was taking Trey to the airport. Thatcher was standing outside with him, holding a soft leather duffel bag, while Trey was talking to the driver.

  Trey had his laptop and leather briefcase, his suit jacket was slung over his shoulder. He looked like a model; I realized observing his handsome physique. He got into the limo, Thatcher handed him the leather duffel, closing the door afterwards. The limo sped off. I watched it getting smaller and smaller, until it was a speck. I felt lonely for some reason; lonely and empty.

  I padded down to his room to get my things. I felt closer to him just being in there amongst Trey things. I looked at the rumpled sheets and covers on his bed. It looked as if he had slept restlessly last night; the sheets were un-tucked at the end of the bed, the blanket and duvet twisted around each other. His boxers were on the bathroom floor where he apparently stepped out of them. The bathroom still smelled of toothpaste, mouthwash and his delicious aftershave lotion. His navy blue terry robe was on the hook of the bathroom door.

  I shut the bathroom door, and stripped off my clothes. I wanted to take a quick shower, in his shower, where he had been just an hour before. I shampooed my hair with his shampoo, conditioned it with his conditioner. I rubbed his body wash all over me, and shaved my legs with his razor. When I stepped out of the shower, I dried myself off with the still damp towel that he had used and discarded on the floor. I rolled on some of his deodorant; it was manly, but I liked it too. I picked up my clothing from the bathroom floor (unlike him) and shrugged his robe on over my slightly damp body. It smelled like Trey and I pulled it tightly around me, rubbing it against my skin. I wanted his scent on me.

  I put my clothes in my suitcase, along with the business card that he had left and carried it into my new room. I went back and brushed my teeth in his bathroom, leaving my toothbrush hanging next to his. I decided that while I was not going to sleep in his room this week, there was no reason not to enjoy his bad-ass bathroom. I used his blow dryer to dry and style my hair.

  I unpacked everything from my suitcase. It was obvious that I needed to return to my cottage to get more of the essentials, like bras, panties, and nightwear! I would have someone go along with me later after work.

  One advantage of not working with the horses this week was that I didn’t have to wear long jeans and boots. I found a pair of khaki colored Capri pants that Trey packed, and matched it with a light cotton tee that was olive green. I slipped a pair of sandals on and I was ready for the day.

  I went downstairs and nearly collided with Thatcher as he came into the entrance hall from the dining area.

  “Good morning, Ms. Preston,” he greeted. “I trust you rested well last night?”

  (I wonder what he heard.)

  I blushed slightly, and was quick to respond, “Very well, thank you. Please call me Tylar, won’t you?”

  “Of course, if that is your wish. May I get you some breakfast, Tylar?”

  “If there is juice and possibly a bagel?”

  “That is no problem. Would you care for some fresh fruit? We have strawberries, cantaloupe, pineapple and blueberries?”

  “That sounds wonderful, yes, thank you!”

  “Please have a seat in the dining room, Tylar,” he offered. “I’ll have your breakfast for you momentarily. The morning paper was in there as well should you care to read it.”

  In a few moments Thatcher brought out a tray with my breakfast on it asking if there was anything else I needed. I assured him I was fine.

  -I was anxious to go to work. I couldn’t imagine spending the day here having nothing to do.

  I finished up my breakfast and started to clear the table when Thatcher popped back in taking over. I guess I was not to lift a finger here.

  I returned upstairs, collected my purse, noticing that my bed had already been made up. Trey’s robe was hanging on a hook on the back of my bedroom door. I would be pissed if someone moved it back to his room, or heaven forbid laundered it.

  I heard the sound of a car horn outside. Glancing at the clock on the dresser I saw that Mrs. Johnson was right on time. Trey was right, two minutes into the drive over to the ‘Belle, Mrs. Johnson in
sisted that I call her “Becky.”

  She told me that I would be pretty busy all week helping in the winery as several batches were through the fermentation process. The first thing she did when we reached her office at the ‘Belle’ was to have an employee name tag with my photo made.

  She instructed me that all employees needed to wear their identification badges while working at this location. She explained it was mainly due to having so many tourists through the plantation and winery all year round. It was primarily a security measure. The badges had a bar code strip which allowed access to areas designated throughout the estate as being for ‘Employees Only.’

  We headed over to the winery which was behind the colonial mansion after that. It looked like a regular barn, but the equipment inside was nothing like what was in a regular barn. There was a door leading to the wine cellar which was where I would be working for now. I followed her down the narrow wooden steps to the cool dampness of the wine cellar. This was not too bad after all. I was going to like this. If nothing else, it was a great way to beat the heat outside.

  She led me through a narrow corridor, and then opened a wooden door to a large room that had a machine going that corks the bottles of wine.

  It was fairly loud, and Becky shouted for the girl that was operating it to shut it off.

  “Here’s your help, Gina,” Becky said to the girl who had really short cropped blondish-red hair.

  “Tylar, this is my niece, Gina,” she said “Gina, this is Tylar Preston, your help for the week.”

  Gina cracked a dazzling smile as she walked over to us, wiping her hands on her pants.

  “A fellow ‘cellar rat,’ welcome,” she said, holding her hand out to greet me. I shook her hand, confused by the job title. Gina laughed at my confusion.

  “Don’t take offense that is just what everyone in the wine business calls this entry level position.”

  “I’ll leave you to the training, then Gina,” Becky said, making her way to the door.