Maybe Baby Lite

by ANDREA SMITH

  “Did you buy this?” he asked sharply.

  “No,” I answered honestly. “Gina bought it for me as an early Christmas present. Thank you for ruining my surprise.” I grabbed the shampoo from the edge of the tub and lathered my hair. Trey continued to gawk at me.

  Why's he so pissed about this?

  “May I ask why you were going through my stuff?”

  “Hey, I was just trying to see if you had room in your suitcase for some of my things. I didn’t know if you meant to pack this bag or what. I wanted to make sure it wasn’t breakable.”

  “Well it’s not,” I answered turning away from him to rinse my hair. His expression went from pissed to confused.

  “Did you say something to Gina to make her think I don’t satisfy you?”

  “Of course not, Trey. Don’t be ridiculous. Why does this have to be about you?”

  He eyed me warily as if he doubted what I was telling him. I wondered if all men thought they were the only mechanism for female orgasm. Trey acted like having a sex toy was an insult to his masculinity.

  “What? Does it offend you?” I finally asked.

  “No, I just wanted to make sure that well, you know, that I’m making you feel good.”

  “Trey,” I nearly shrieked, “you must have a clue by now how much I love our fucking."

  "We don't always fuck, Tylar; we make love as well."

  I softened toward him. My Trey was romantic and sweet. He actually thought I could replace him with Mr. Jack Rabbit Wallbanger with a suction cup?

  He helped me out of the bath, wrapping a towel around me.

  “Maybe we could make love tonight after the football game is over?” I asked, my eyes searching his.

  “Fuck the football game!” he said, drawing my toweled body to him. He pressed me against him intimately. “Ready to go to bed?” he asked huskily.

  I smiled and nodded.

  “Me too,” he said, taking me by the hand and leading me out of the bathroom.

  CHAPTER 43

  My house in Radcliff was listed with a real estate agent who felt very strongly that it wouldn’t stay on the market too long. The location and price range were good indicators, she assured us.

  Trey had convinced me to go to Atlanta with him. It wasn’t really that difficult of a decision once he promised me that I could work at least part-time at his law firm. Gina was ecstatic when I called to let her know.

  Trey’s apartment was located on West Peachtree in mid-town Atlanta. I knew that it would take me a while to get comfortable driving in a big city. He told me not to be overly concerned; he'd gladly take me anywhere I wanted.

  Hmm…being around each other 24/7 is going to be interesting.

  It was dark when Trey pulled my Santa Fe into the parking garage of his apartment building. I'd been asleep for most of the drive. I awoke as soon as he cut the engine. Yawning and stretching, I looked around and spotted his Mercedes Benz Roadster in the next parking space.

  Nice ride, counselor.

  Trey’s apartment was a pleasant surprise. I was worried his space would be contemporary and cold, all black, glass, and chrome. Yet, this was tasteful and had a warm feel. The floor of the foyer was ceramic tile done in a Tuscan pattern; the interior walls were stucco, with high ceilings and arched doorways. The flooring in the main living room and dining room was polished hardwood covered with gorgeous Persian rugs. The living room featured a fireplace with wall art that blended in nicely with his furnishings. The color scheme was predominately warm gold, brown, and russet. Curved windows rounded like a half-moon overlooked the lit skyline of mid-town Atlanta.

  “Trey, this is breathtaking,” I commented, gazing through his window over Atlanta. He stood next to me, pulling me closer.

  “I’m glad you approve. I think having you here will definitely make it complete.”

  “Where’s my room?” I asked innocently.

  Trey laughed, pulling me close to him. “Your room is wherever I am,” he said, “understand?”

  I nodded. He took my hand, leading me down a hallway that was off the living room. One of the bedrooms had been made into his study. There was a guest bedroom next to the study that had an attached bathroom and walk-in closet. Trey’s master suite was obvious because of the double wooden doors that opened into it.

  “Wow,” I said as he swung open the doors, “this is huge!” He had a king-size bed that seemed almost small because of the room’s high ceilings. It was carpeted in plush hunter-green carpet with an ornately scrolled mahogany wardrobe against the wall next to the bed. There was a cozy sitting area in one corner of the room and two walk-in closets.

  The master bath was even more elaborate than the one at the manor. It had a ceramic-tiled heated floor and antique light fixtures. There were marble columns on each side of the wide marble steps that led up to the sunken tub. Wall sconces created soft, romantic lighting.

  “Where’s the kitchen?” I finally asked.

  “It’s off the dining room as we came in. Are you hungry?”

  “Maybe later,” I said, “I'd really love a bubble bath.”

  “You go right ahead,” he replied, “you'll find everything you need in the bathroom.”

  An hour and a half later I emerged from my soak, totally relaxed. I padded down Trey’s massive hallway in my silk PJs. He was on the phone in the study. I lingered at the doorway. He looked up and nodded for me to come in.

  “Yes, I appreciate your getting back with me on a weekend, counselor. This is good news.” He rolled his chair back from the desk invitingly. I curled up in his lap as he wrapped up his call.

  “Who was that on the phone?” I asked.

  “Oh yeah, that was the assistant C.A. from Washington County. Everything is good to go on the plea agreement. No trial.”

  I was greatly relieved. I never wanted to lay eyes on Charlie Roberts again. Trey stood me up and led me to the kitchen which was as impressive as the rest of his apartment. The floor was dark ceramic tile, the cupboards were light blond wood, the countertops were granite, and the appliances were stainless steel. A breakfast bar with a sink stood in the center.

  “Have a seat, Ms. Preston. I’ll let you know what today’s specials are as soon as I figure that out,” he said, giving me a dimpled grin. Despite his humor, I could tell Trey was tired. He'd packed up my house, loaded the SUV top to bottom, and drove the whole way while I slept through the drive.

  “Trey, I'd love a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.”

  “Seriously?” he asked. “That sounds good to me too.”

  We ate our sandwiches at the breakfast bar and talked about my new job. He'd already called the H.R. director at the firm while I was in my bath. I was set for Monday.

  “What will my job responsibilities be?”

  “I’ve no idea. I left that in the hands of Janice Landrick, my competent HR director. She’s expecting you at 9 a.m. sharp.”

  “Will we be riding to work together, Trey?”

  “Well, I usually leave for the gym at 6:30 and then shower and dress there. It’s in the same building as our firm.”

  “Oh, I see,” I replied. I was curious as to how much Trey had shared with his H.R. director. “How exactly did you explain our relationship to Janice?”

  “I didn’t,” he replied, stuffing the last quarter of his sandwich into his mouth. “Tylar,” he began in his serious lawyer-tone, “our relationship doesn’t exist when we’re at the firm. You wanted a job and now you have it.” He was now looking at me expectantly, his eyes searching mine for some kind of confirmation.

  “Ipso facto, counselor,” I replied, licking peanut butter seductively off of my fingers.

  Later that evening, I was curled up in his massive bed while Trey showered. My mind was racing with questions. I still wondered exactly what Trey had told his H.R. director about our connection. Was I supposed to call him ‘Mr. Sinclair’? I thought about Gina and Ian coming over tomorrow. When I gave her directions to Trey’s place, she co
mmented that his doorman probably wouldn’t let riff raff like her past the entrance. I let Trey know they’d be visiting; his only reaction was an eye roll. I heard the shower shut off. Perhaps now that he'd taken a shower he would feel refreshed enough to answer some of my questions.

  Trey emerged several minutes later, his hair towel dried damp, naked except for his drawstring pajama pants that were slung low on his hips. He flipped a switch on his sound system and the room filled with classical instrumental music. Trey climbed into bed with me, snuggling under the covers. I perched my head on my elbow to watch him get comfortable. He turned to me, catching my gaze.

  “What?” he asked, eyeing me warily.

  “Nothing,” I said, not eager to kill the mood by bringing the matter up again, “I just wondered how you explained our connection and needing a job at your firm to Janice.”

  Trey sighed, a hint of impatience in his voice, “I said that you interned for our family business this past summer, that you needed a job, and asked her if there was anything open at the firm. She said there was, and you start Monday, period.”

  “Well, I mean how does she know if I’m qualified to do whatever this job entails?”

  “Trust me, babe, it’ll be some gopher-type position. You’ll do fine.”

  Hell no, he did not just say that!

  Trey realized how insulting his comment was as soon as it escaped his mouth. His expression was one of instant regret but it was too late. I narrowed my eyes at him giving him an evil stare before turning away from him and pulling the covers under my chin.

  “Tylar,” his voice was apologetic, “I didn’t mean it the way it sounded—I’m sorry.” He scooted over so that his body was just inches from mine. His hand brushed against my covered up shoulder, rubbing it soothingly. I raised an arm out from underneath the sheets and patted his arm consolingly.

  “That’s okay,” I replied without looking. “Apology accepted.” I pulled my arm underneath the covers and made no further attempt to acknowledge him. If we were going to be a family, I'd have to let some minor misunderstandings slide. After a few moments, he sighed heavily and turned over so that we were back to back. I drifted off to sleep.

  CHAPTER 44

  On Sunday morning Trey and I got up fairly early. I started making the bed and he stopped me. “I have a housekeeper who comes in during the week,” he advised.

  “So what do you do on weekends?” I asked.

  “Live like a pig, I guess,” he admitted laughing.

  “I don’t roll that way baby,” I replied, “come on, it won’t kill either of us to pick up after ourselves on weekends. Grab the sheets, let’s make the bed. I want to show Gina around the apartment when they come by this afternoon.”

  Trey grudgingly obliged, helping me tidy up the bedroom and then the bathroom after we finished our shower. While he was in his study checking his emails I decided to make our first breakfast as official co-habs: coffee, scrambled eggs, sausage, and toast. Trey came in, freshly showered, lured by the scent of brewed coffee. He wore a long-sleeved black Henley shirt and jeans I’d never seen before. He looked fit and muscular in the faded blue denim, ripped at the knee and snug. He wore socks but no shoes, his hair was still damp. I knew every inch of his body, yet I caught myself admiring Trey’s masculinity.

  Filling his coffee mug, he smiled warmly, saying, “This looks great, Tylar.” I sat across from him sipping my orange juice as I thought about what I needed to do today.

  “Trey, do you like chili?” I asked.

  “I love chili,” he replied, spearing a forkful of eggs, “why?”

  “I thought I'd see if you’ve got all of the ingredients on hand and put a pot of chili on for this afternoon. I thought you and Ian might want to watch football or something while I visit with Gina. Is that all right with you?”

  He rolled his eyes slightly, mumbling a “Yeah, I guess.”

  “Trey, you’ve never really talked to Ian. I think you’ll like him if you’d let yourself. I want to have friends here, you know.”

  “I said okay, Tylar,” he replied slightly agitated.

  I couldn’t imagine anyone not getting along with Ian. Trey was just stubborn about certain things.

  After breakfast, I found ground sirloin in the freezer and the rest of the ingredients to make a pot of chili. I browned the meat with diced onions and peppers. I found a crock pot in the cupboard. Twenty minutes later, the chili was in the crock pot cooking and the kitchen was cleaned up. Next, I busied myself by unpacking my boxes of clothes and shoes from Radcliff. My clothes would not even fill the smaller walk-in closet. Not yet anyway. I knew that some of my clothes would be tight already, so I left those in the boxes. I'd have Gina help me put some work outfits together when she came over this afternoon. I stowed my shoes in the cubbies in the closet. My ‘fuck me’ heels were the last ones to be put away. I finished unpacking my suitcase, grabbing the gift bag from The Sextique Shop and tucking the Jack Rabbit in a closet drawer. I found another tissue-wrapped item at the bottom of the bag. I pulled the paper off of the box. It was a remote control silver bullet vibrator. Batteries included. It had 10 different speeds and vibration patterns and was remote-activated from 23 feet away.

  Wow!

  Snickering, I gathered the dirty laundry from the bathroom hamper. As I passed Trey’s study, I poked my head in, “Trey do you have a laundry room in the apartment?”

  “It’s off the kitchen,” he replied, barely looking up. “Hey, but Mrs. Harris can do the laundry this week.”

  “It’s okay, I want to do it.” I replied, headed down the hall.

  Trey’s laundry room was as big as his den. I found the detergent and softener and started the first load of lights, washing in hot and rinsing in cold. The chili aroma wafted fragrantly from the kitchen. I found a wooden spoon and gave it a stir. I didn’t hear Trey come up behind me. He encircled me in his arms, causing me to scream in fear.

  “I’m sorry, baby!” he said, releasing me, studying my face.

  “Trey, you nearly made my heart stop,” I gasped.

  “I'm so sorry, Tylar, I didn’t mean to. Are you okay?”

  “I will be…” I replied, holding onto the counter.

  “Seeing you doing all this domestic stuff makes me horny,” he said, giving me a knowing smile.

  “So does that mean I need to be worried about Mrs. Harris during the week?” I joked, looking up into his smoldering eyes.

  “Unh unh, baby,” he said softly, his hands framing my face. He lowered his mouth to mine; his tongue gently probed my mouth, swirling around mine with passion and hunger. I could feel him harden against me. I kissed him back, my tongue exploring his mouth softly as my hand moved down, capturing his hardness beneath his jeans. He moaned as I stroked the length of him. I tugged at the button on his fly. His hand moved mine aside, unbuttoning his fly and lowering his zipper. He leaned against the kitchen counter.

  My hand reached in, freeing his hard cock from his boxers. I gently played with it, feeling the clear droplet of fluid that gathered at the tip. I kneeled in front of him and licked the droplet from the head, closing my mouth around it. I took his full length into my mouth, sucking his shaft, allowing my tongue to dance around his girth. He moaned as his cock grew in my mouth. Drawing me up to him, he carried me to the sofa in front of the lit fireplace. He stood me in front of him, my back to him as he slid my jeans over my hips, followed by my panties. I stepped out of them as his hands pulled me backward onto his lap.

  His jeans were still on and I was fully naked on top of him. I felt him position my sex close to the head of his member, his fingers gently probing in and out of my wet orifice from behind. He lowered me further down, his hands on each of my hips. He lightly pushed my shoulders forward so that my backside tilted up toward him at a slight angle. He was taking charge and it made me so hot for him. He lowered me slowly down onto his erection. I heard him suck his breath in loudly.

  “Aah,” I moaned, taking him deep. I was g
oing to come fast in this position. He knew it. He lowered one hand, taking the hood of my clitoris between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it gently over and over again. I flexed my hips, moving up and down on him, whimpering with pleasure.

  “God, Tylar, come for me” he said, his movements quickening. The sound of his smooth and silky voice was the tiny push I needed to cross over into an explosive, electrifying orgasm.

  He peaked too and we came together, our bodies shuddering with spasms of release caught in a swirling vortex of pleasure. He cried my name out as his last shudder emptied himself into me. I sat back, resting against his chest. His hand lifted my hair; his lips and tongue traced the back of my neck. I shivered.

  “Did you like that Tylar?” he asked, kissing my neck.

  “Just a little,” I replied, grinning like an idiot. “You know we’re going to have to shower again, don’t you?” I asked. “This whole room smells like sex. Gina and Ian will be here in an hour.”

  “But I like smelling like you,” Trey protested.

  “Come on, let’s shower,” I said pulling his arm up to stand. “And you'll put clean jeans on,” I advised.

  An hour later, showered and dressed in clean clothes, the doorman rang that Ian and Gina were in the lobby. Trey buzzed them up. I checked my chili again, it smelled delicious and I was famished.

  The doorbell rang and I ran to answer it. Gina was first in, hugging me as if it had been months instead of a little over a week since she'd seen me last. Ian was next and I formally introduced him to Trey; I wasn’t sure if they had officially met the night of my birthday. Ian was glad that Trey had the game on; both guys were Falcons fans. Trey pulled beers from the fridge and they got comfortable in front of the flat screen like old friends. I signaled Gina to follow me for a tour of the apartment. We ended the tour in the master suite, which she adored. I showed her my own walk-in closet.