Maybe Baby Lite

by ANDREA SMITH

  I flushed nervously, glancing up at Caroline who was downing her glass of wine, impassive to his comment.

  “Nigel it appears we’ll be uncles soon,” Tristan said, smiling at his older brother.

  “Yes! How about that? Congratulations to you both!” Nigel replied warmly.

  “Do you know whether it’s a boy or a girl yet?” Caroline asked.

  “We decided to be surprised,” Trey replied.

  “I think we’re all pretty much surprised now,” Caroline commented, refilling her wine glass. “Don’t they teach safe sex in fourth grade these days?” she said, catching my eye.

  “Caroline,” Susan said, her voice carrying a distinct warning, “please remember yourself while you’re with us. This family is ecstatic about the arrival of our first grandchild.”

  Trey’s arm around me was so tightly muscled that it made my shoulder ache. I looked up at him and could tell he was seething. I placed my hand on his chest and he lowered his gaze to me. I shook my head ‘no’ in an effort to avoid further comments that would only escalate the situation.

  “Have you picked out any names?” Tristan asked, sipping his brandy.

  Susan piped up, “Tylar are you still going with ‘Jack’ and ‘Danielle’?”

  Uh oh.

  Tristan immediately made the connection, a broad smile lighting across his handsome features, revealing his dimple. Trey squirmed beside me uncomfortably. Tristan was enjoying Trey’s discomfort.

  “We’re still kicking various names around for now,” I lied.

  “Where are your people from Tylar?” Caroline semi-slurred.

  “I’m from around Louisville, Kentucky. I attended Virginia Intermont College here in Bristol. Trey and I met this past summer when I worked for Sinclair Stables,” I replied.

  There—wanna make something of it?

  “Another V.I.C. coed under your belt so to speak, Trey,” she replied, not disguising the smarminess in her voice.

  Tristan interjected. “Trey, how about you, Tylar, and I take a walk to the stables? I understand you’ve been handling a lot of the buying and breeding here. Father said you had a stellar season.”

  I was relieved to have a reason, any reason to get away from Caroline. “Trey,” I agreed, “let’s get our jackets. I think a walk would be nice.” He nodded, obviously still pissed about Caroline’s last comment.

  Out in the barn, Trey showed Tristan some of the warm bloods he'd purchased this summer. I checked on Derringer, deciding to brush him in his stall. He nuzzled my coat pockets, curious for carrots. The brothers came over to Derringer’s stall.

  “Trey tells me you do quite well with dressage, Tylar,” Tristan commented. “I’d enjoy seeing your competition videos from this past season.”

  “I’m sure Dad has them in the house somewhere,” Trey replied, pulling me close to him. He looked proud of me and I liked that feeling.

  “Did Trey tell you I also did pretty well quarter racing for Sinclair Stables?” I asked, giving Trey a devilish smile.

  “No, he didn’t mention that, which horse did you race?”

  “Jezebel, she’s stabled over at the Belle,” I replied. “Yep, took a first place purse in a feature race. I likely would’ve taken the bonus purse that night until Jezebel was scratched.”

  Tristan glanced at me and saw that I was looking at Trey. He looked back and forth between the two of us trying to figure out what he was missing. Trey finally caved and blurted out his side of the story.

  “Tylar went against my instructions. She was recovering from a concussion so I didn’t want her handling the horses. So what does she do? She enters herself as the jockey for Jezebel in the Kick-Off Season Stakes!”

  “So the doctor hadn’t released you to ride, is that it?” Tristan asked me.

  “No, Trey hadn’t released me to ride,” I clarified.

  Tristan was laughing now, looking at both of us, “And Trey had the horse scratched from the race?”

  “Yes, we were already at the starting gate. I was humiliated!”

  “Tylar,” he said, looking at Trey affectionately, “I love my little brother, don’t get me wrong, but he can be as stubborn and controlling as the day is long. This I know. I could tell you some stories,” he laughed, eyes sparkling with amusement.

  “Hey, I’ve got plenty of stories I could tell on you,” Trey replied with a grin, jabbing his finger at Tristan.

  “I already know the one about Kate and ‘bumping uglies,’” I commented.

  “What?” Trey asked his eyes wide with surprise.

  “Your mom and I had a nice chat while we made cookies,” I giggled.

  “Oh God. I do remember that,” Tristan replied. “Trey, I should’ve kicked your ass right then and there.”

  “I don’t think it would’ve been a fair fight, Tristan,” Trey laughed. “I was what, like maybe eight at the time?”

  “Seriously though Trey,” Tristan said, “Are you going to the party at the Andrews’ tomorrow night?”

  What party?

  “Sure,” Trey answered, “why not?”

  “If you think Caroline was a pill tonight, how do you think she’ll be when she has her sidekick Tess beside her?”

  Trey glanced over at me, realizing that I was just hearing about this for the first time. “Tylar, Dad said something about this to me today when we were out cutting the tree. I meant to tell you. We’re all invited over to the Andrews’ house tomorrow evening. Every year they have a Christmas evening cocktail party for friends and family.”

  Oh that’s just flippin’ great!

  “Trey, you seriously want to take me around Tess and Landon?”

  “What about Landon?” Tristan asked.

  Trey told Tristan about Landon’s tactless comments during Thanksgiving, not mentioning the part that he'd shared with me about the baby not being Trey’s. It continued to bother me that Trey had never told his family the truth.

  “I just don’t feel that I'd be comfortable around them,” I commented.

  “Tylar, it’s important to my parents and to me that we don’t shun the Andrews. I promise not to leave your side, okay?”

  “I’ll have your back too, sis,” Tristan joked.

  I nodded, still uncomfortable with the idea. I so wished that Gina was here. I excused myself from Trey and Tristan and retreated to the opposite end of the barn to dial Gina. We only talked briefly as Ian’s family was there. She bitched about her mother-in-law; I complained about my soon-to-be sister-in-law. I told Gina about my ring. She asked me to take a picture of it and send it from my phone. I told her that I would, wished her a good holiday, and hung up so I could shoot a picture of my gorgeous ring. Moments after texting it to her, I received a response.

  “Jesus Christ girl, what a rock! That’s got to be 5 carats! The Hot Nazi has great taste. Tell him Ian and I said ‘Merry Christmas.’ Love ya!”

  By the time that Tristan, Trey, and I returned to the house, Nigel and Caroline had retired for the night. Tristan left us and went to visit with his parents in the family room.

  “Trey,” I said, “can I give you your Christmas presents up in our room?”

  “Why?” he asked, puzzled.

  “I just don’t want any rude comments from Caroline. She really makes me uncomfortable. I wanted to get you so much more than I did and she will probably make me feel bad in comparison to this exquisite ring that you gave me.”

  “Whoa,” he interrupted me, “first of all, that ring isn’t your Christmas present, okay? That’s for our engagement. I have something else for you for Christmas.”

  “Okay, now you’ve just made me feel worse.”

  “Tylar,” he said, pulling me to him, “you being with me, loving me, and carrying our child is the best thing that anyone could ever give me. Don’t you understand that?”

  “I guess,” I relented.

  “No, there’s no guessing, Tylar. You’re my life. I’ve never felt so connected with anyone before. I love to think o
f the future that we’ll build together and the children we’ll have. You’re the one that I’ll always love the most. You’re the one who has my devotion. Got it?”

  I nodded, tearing up again. Trey could be so warm and passionate at times. He could not only take my breath away with his touch, but also with his words. We gathered our gifts out from under the tree and took them upstairs to our suite. We sat cross-legged on the bed, tearing into our presents. Trey had bought me a Baby’s First Year photo album and an Atlas® dome watch in rose gold from Tiffany & Co.

  Trey gushed over everything that I'd bought for him: the two CDs, the tie that matched his eyes perfectly, the silver cuff links, and the new Burberry wallet.

  He reached under the bed and retrieved a single box, handing it to me. I opened it and pulled a manila envelope out. Inside the envelope there were multiple legal-looking documents. The first was a deed to 10 acres of land located in DeKalb County, Georgia. Accompanying it were stunning photos of the property. Some of the acreage was partially wooded, and it featured a running stream to a natural pond.

  “It’s beautiful,” I breathed, “What is all this? I don’t understand.”

  “I deeded this land to you, Tylar. This is where we’ll build the house of your dreams. This is where we’ll bring Derringer and any of the other horses you may want to stable. We’ll have to build the stable first, of course.”

  “Oh Trey,” I exclaimed, launching myself into his lap, “this is too much don’t you think?”

  “It’s exactly what we discussed. It's how we want to raise our children, remember? I figure we better get started building our home if it’ll be ready by the time this baby’s walking, don’t you agree?”

  “This is incredible! I'm so in love with you,” I exclaimed.

  Together we looked at the rest of the papers in the envelope. There was a packet of house plans for country homes. Trey said to pick out a style that would make me feel at home. I couldn’t wait to get started.

  Standing up, Trey turned on some holiday choral music, lowering the volume because of the other guests staying down the hall. Then he ran a bubble bath for us. I gratefully pulled off my stockings and selected some silky pajamas from his massive closet. Trey had lit the candles and placed them around the sunken, steaming bathtub. We discarded our clothing and stepped into the suds.

  Afterward, we toweled each other off, his cock once again springing to attention as I patted him dry. I noticed my belly was growing rounder; I was a little more than four months pregnant; halfway there, I thought as I climbed into bed. Trey slipped into his drawstring pajama bottoms that hung low on his hips. He climbed into bed next to me, pulling me to him.

  “Do you want to watch anything, Tylar?”

  “No. I’m about 30 seconds away from sleep. Put on anything you like, it won’t disturb me,” I replied, yawning. Trey switched the station to a Christmas movie with Jimmy Stewart, muting the sound.

  “How can you watch the movie without sound?”

  “I’ve seen it a hundred times,” he answered, “it’s a classic.” Trey was on his side next to me, tracing his fingers on my silk top, playing with the buttons. I felt the first one give way, then the next, and then the last one. His hand slid inside, cupping my breasts, kneading them gently. I had a feeling that sleep was no longer 30 seconds away. I turned to him, watching him watch me.

  He raised himself up, hovering over me, lowering his lips to mine in a long, leisurely kiss. I laced my arms around his neck, pulling his face closer, answering his kiss with a passion of my own. I felt something deep within me stir, making me hungry for him once again. His hands expertly slid my silk top off and then moved down to my belly, pulling at the waistband of the bottoms and sliding them down my legs. His thumb hooked into the tops of my panties, pulling them down and off.

  “I see you have me totally naked now,” I whispered.

  “Um hmm,” he replied, his lips playing on mine.

  “Aren’t you going to take your pants off?”

  “I have a fly on them,” he replied, my lips feeling the smile spread across his lips.

  “It might be nice if one of these times you made love to me with your pants off, Trey,” I commented in a faux stern tone.

  “I’ll be glad to,” he remarked, pulling the drawstring and tugging his pants down and off. He kicked the covers down as we heated up. His strong hands explored my body, massaging my flesh, kissing my lips, my neck, and then my breasts. His tongue swirled ever so gently around my nipples, teasing them with his lips. When he took a nipple into his mouth, he sucked it very gently, his hands moving to my pussy to explore. His fingers expertly explored the soft folds of my sex, plying gently the hood of my clitoris, sending gentle shock waves of pleasure through me.

  His tongue traced a path from my breasts to my belly. Stopping there, he kissed my rounded belly, his left hand gently rubbing the area, his right hand pleasuring me lower. I moaned as his fingers probed my very sensitive core, causing my sweet spot to swell with desire. My hips moved against his hand, his palm was now pressed firmly against my clitoris as both of his middle fingers were inside me, probing and playing. I was soaked.

  His mouth moved to my pussy, gently kissing the soft folds, his tongue washing over my clitoris in circular motions, licking and circling over it again and again. His tongue darted inside of me, his fingers pressing upward, his thumb gently brushing against my clitoris.

  “You taste so sweet, Tylar,” he whispered.

  My hips flexed harder against him now, wanting him inside of me. Trey could read my body’s every movement. He knew what I needed without my having to ask.

  “I know, Tylar, I know what you want. I want it too.” He rose up, spreading my legs with his knees, and positioned himself between them. He put his hand on his cock and leaned forward, straightening his legs out. He guided his shaft inside of me, slowly and gently filling me. I moaned with pleasure, reveling in the feel of him. My arms wrapped around him, drawing him closer. His thrusts were slow and gentle. Trey was taking his time, pleasuring me with his love and his passion. He rocked his hips back and forth, fully and deeply inside me. I arched my back, flexing my hips, meeting his thrusts with total abandonment. I moaned against his lips, my orgasm building.

  “God, I love being inside of you, Tylar,” he breathed against my lips. “I love making love to every part of you. I love knowing that you're mine.”

  My hands moved lower to his buttocks as he started lifting up and rotating his hips. I relished feeling his muscles flex with each thrust. Our rhythm was perfect, but then it always had been. I could feel my muscles clenching him. Trey moaned with every thrust as he came closer to the edge.

  “Does that feel good? Are you going to come for me like a good girl?”

  “Oh, Trey” I mewled, my orgasm ready to unfold, “this is so hot, please don’t stop.”

  “That’s it Tylar,” he crooned softly, “That’s my girl.” He rocked back and forth into me, again and again. His kisses were now becoming more urgent and hungry; his tongue swirled with mine as he moaned huskily against my mouth. The headboard softly banged against the wall in rhythm with our thrusting. Nothing outside of our two-person world registered in my mind, it was devoid of everything apart from Trey and the love we made at this moment. He whispered his love for me again and again as I met each thrust.

  Somewhere in another world I could hear the sound of raised voices, arguing, slamming doors. I pushed it from my mind. All that mattered was the unraveling of my orgasm, Trey’s perfect thrusts, my pulsating G-spot begging for release. His rhythm picked up just a bit as we prepared for our final descent into mutual ecstasy. He was the master pilot of my body, an expert on my instrumentation.

  Our door suddenly flew open, the overhead light flashed on. A female voice screeched at us. “Oh my God! Is that all you two ever do? Fuck like rabbits? How in the hell is anyone else supposed to sleep with you two next door? Find a fucking motel!”

  What the hell?

>   Trey was up and off the bed in an instant, standing there in all of his erected glory. I watched in horror as Caroline stared at Trey. Her eyes widened as they lowered to the expanse of his fully erect cock that was glistening with my wetness. She didn’t attempt to look away from it. Trey furiously pointed at the door.

  “God damn it! Get the fuck out of here, Caroline!” he yelled. She tried to gain some composure, obviously very drunk. “Nigel! Come get your fucking wife!”

  Oh God! Trey is going to wake the whole house!

  I buried myself under the covers, sobbing uncontrollably. I'd never felt so humiliated and disrespected. Trey angrily slammed and locked our bedroom door. I could hear Nigel trying to shush Caroline in the hallway. She was relentless.

  “Maybe if you were hung like your baby brother, Nigel, I’d be pregnant by now,” she hissed. I heard the sound of a slap.

  “You son of a bitch!” she shrieked. I wasn’t sure who slapped whom.

  Oh my God. I'm going to be sick.

  Trey was at the side of the bed, trying to coax me out from under the covers. I felt the bile rise up in my throat. I threw the covers back and ran naked into the bathroom. I slammed the lid back against the toilet tank and sank to my knees. I leaned over and vomited violently into the toilet. Trey was there, holding my hair back as I continued to heave and retch.

  “I’m so sorry baby,” he said, wiping my face with a washcloth, “this is entirely my fault. I should have locked that goddamn door. I'm so, so sorry.”

  By the time I was done vomiting, I had a searing headache. I wasn’t sure that I could even take anything for it. Trey dressed me in my panties and pajamas. I remained in a silent stupor. He led me back to the bedroom, lifting me up into the bed, pulling the covers up around me. He found his drawstring pants on the floor, pulling them up over his nakedness. He brought me a glass of water and he pressed a damp washcloth to my forehead. Trey climbed up in the bed on top of the covers. He lay on his side, keeping the cold compress on my forehead, gently pushing my hair back behind my ears.

  “Tylar are you going to talk to me?” he asked gently, his eyes filled with remorse and concern. My voice quivered with shame and embarrassment. I didn’t understand why I should be feeling those things.