Baby Love (Baby Series)

by ANDREA SMITH

  I felt Trey lower himself down onto the bed, and fumble with my nightgown trying to lower the neckline in order to place Preston next to me so that she could nurse. I rolled my body away from them into a tight ball, leaving him and my hungry baby staring at my back.

  I heard Trey curse softly under his breath as he left our bed. He returned a few moments later with Preston and a bottle. I could hear him coaxing her to take the bottle as she fussed wanting my breast instead.

  Tears stained my cheeks as I did nothing to remedy the situation. Trey was finally able to persuade her to take the nipple of the bottle into her mouth; I heard her finally start sucking away on it hungrily. What kind of a piece of shit mother was I?

  I fell back into a restless and troubled sleep. My dreams haunted me; the one I had this night was the worst ever. I dreamed that I was wandering around a cemetery by myself; I was tired, hungry and totally disheveled.

  I had no clue as to where I was or how I had gotten there. I tripped over a branch that had fallen from a large oak tree in the cemetery; rain was pounding down around me in torrents.

  I tried in vain to get my bearings in this dark, wet cemetery. On the ground crawling in inches after my fall, my hands frantically searched to find something stable. I finally grasped something that felt human, or at least previously human. I scooted up towards what I had been touching with my hands. It was cold and unyielding. My eyes finally adjusted to the dark and I could make out the features. I shrieked in fear and in disgust. It was Jean!

  Her features were distorted by decay. Her skin was dark brown and textured like leather. I found the strength to raise myself up and onto my feet. I wanted to run as fast and as far away as possible from what I had just discovered.

  I felt the bile rise up in my throat. I stumbled over a flat gravestone and sprawled once again onto the ground of the cemetery; the rain was pelting against my skin from all directions. I blinked my eyes trying to get some focus against the raindrops which were mercilessly assaulting my face. I was now belly-crawling through this unnamed cemetery looking for any exit out of the nightmare.

  My hand brushed against another flat headstone that felt smooth to the touch. The raised mound of dirt on this side of it reflected a fresh grave. It was a tiny grave. There was an outline of an angel engraved into the headstone. I stared into the face of the angel then lowered my gaze to see what was encrypted in the marble:

  Preston Michaela Sinclair

  Beloved Daughter of Tylar & Trey

  Rest In Peace Our Little Angel

  I felt the scream rise up in my throat. The next thing I heard was it echoing across the cemetery. It was a plaintive wail. The sound of it made my own skin crawl.

  My baby was gone . . . my precious angel was gone forever. I had failed to protect her. My screams went on and on. I saw no reason to stop screaming. I wanted to die screaming.

  "Tylar!"

  Someone was yelling my name. I felt a hand slapping me across my face. It stung like hell. I felt the tears rushing down my cheeks.

  A light flickered on overhead. My eyes immediately squeezed shut tightly to shield the light from them. My pulse slowed. I became aware that I was no longer belly-crawling through a cemetery but was in fact in my bed.

  Trey was looking down at me his eyes wide with alarm and fear.

  "Trey," I gasped. "Where is Preston?"

  "She's in her bed in her room," he stated.

  I quickly threw the covers back and launched myself out of our bed making a mad dash for her room. I flicked the overhead lights on once I was there and crept up quietly to her crib. I watched as her swaddled little body slept, noting the rise and fall of her stomach as she breathed life.

  Trey was right behind me in the doorway. The look of alarm was apparent on his face. Did he think that I would do anything to hurt my baby?

  He stood in the doorway, watching me as I leaned over the rails of her crib and gently lifted her up, placing her gently against me. I kissed the top of her head over and over again. My tears were still flowing. She squirmed against me, yawning and stretching in my arms as I cradled her and rocked her gently.

  I took a seat in the nearby rocker, lowering my nightgown to expose a breast as I cuddled her next to me. She latched onto my breast within seconds, gently sucking and kneading them in contentment. I loved her so much. I didn't know how long I sat there rocking my beautiful baby girl before I felt Trey lift her from my arms and place her back into her crib, drawing a blanket up to her waist and turning her overhead light out.

  He came to me holding his hand out to help me from the rocker and gently led me back to our bed. I crawled beneath the comforter, snuggling up against him as he found his place beside me. I felt Trey's hands against me, removing my nightgown, lowering my panties as his hands urgently plied my womanhood.

  I grew wet for him as I always did; pressing my body up against him hungry for a release that I knew only he could give me.

  Trey wasted no time on foreplay. Our coupling now required no foreplay. It was simply one of need and fulfillment. We had lost our connection for a brief period of time and we both needed it back.

  He was hovering over me now, his throbbing manhood poised above me, waiting for entrance. I opened my body and my heart for him as he plunged within me again and again. I felt pleasure and pain at the same time; I deserved both. I loved my husband and I loved my daughter more than anything else on earth. For some reason I had become ungrounded with the fear that something unexpected was threatening our family bonds.

  "Are you ready baby? Are you ready to come for Trey?"

  I loved his sweet voice; I loved the way that Trey loved me and made love to me. I loved the way that Trey fucked me when he knew that fucking was what I needed.

  "I'm ready baby," I breathed, grabbing his tight ass and pulling it in towards me.

  He was mine for now. I wasn't sure about forever because I had no point of reference on that. I had known plenty of people that had promised forever but it had just never come to be. For now he was mine. This was mine. Perhaps that is all that I could ever hope for.

  I knew that no matter what, I would do everything within my power to protect Preston with my last dying breath.

  Trey came with a vengeance at that moment and so did I. We screamed in pleasure, calling out each other's names in passion and in love. We clung to each other out of love and need. He was my rock just as I was his. Preston was the bond between us that would never break. She was his gift to me and my gift to him. She was the better of us both and we knew it. She was the result of our perfect coupling.

  Trey collapsed beside me; he was spent, his breath ragged and shallow as he relaxed from our lovemaking.

  "Tylar, I love you so much," he breathed, kissing my face, my neck and my lips warmly.

  "Please let me in."

  I was puzzled by what Trey had just said to me. Not the part about loving me - he told me that quite often. I was puzzled about his final comment about letting him in.

  I pulled back from him, searching his face in the semi-darkness of the room looking for a hint.

  "Trey, I love you," I whispered against his chest as my face lowered to him.

  "You are always with me," I said, hoping that this somehow satisfied his need to be let in.

  Trey perched himself up on his elbow, taking his hand and gently brushing my hair back off of my face. He leaned towards me and brushed his lips against mine gently.

  "Tylar," he said gently, "How would you feel about my mother coming and spending some time here with us?"

  "Why?" I asked tentatively.

  "I just feel that maybe you need a break baby. I know that you trust Mom with Preston, and she would love to spend some time here with the baby and with us. This way, you could focus on getting the house ready for our move. Would you consider coming back to the firm for a few weeks?"

  "What?" I asked confused as to how the subject of his mother coming to stay for awhile had morphed into my going back to work.


  "Leah has to have some surgery. You know Harmon's office almost as well as she does. If you could help out there for me, Mom could take care of Preston and baby I really do think it would do you some good to be away from the baby a little bit. You know to make sure that you see there is nothing at all to be frightened about okay?"

  Trey really did not get it. I could see that now. To argue or resist his suggestions would only reaffirm what he was already thinking which was that I was paranoid or delusional or both. I was not prepared to argue this point with him because the truth was I had no argument. I was operating solely on maternal instinct and I knew that in Trey's eyes it would never hold up in court.

  "Trey," I said, smiling up at him, "I think that is a great idea. Aren't your parents in Europe right now though?"

  He raised my hand to his lips, lightly brushing them against it; his eyes never strayed from mine.

  "I talked to my mother earlier this evening; she would absolutely love cutting their trip short in order to spend some time with us as long as you are okay with it."

  "Well of course I am," I lied. "Preston needs some quality time with grandma and you know, you are probably right. I need to spend some quality time outside of this apartment and focusing on things other than the baby."

  Trey pulled me to him, embracing me within his strong arms as I tried to swallow the lump of fear that was lodged within my throat

  CHAPTER 7

  When I awoke Preston was nuzzled against me. She must have awakened during the night. This seemed to be an every night occurrence nowadays. Trey must have brought her to me like always since he had banished her from our bedroom. That was his sole contribution to her feeding these days.

  Her head was bobbing as she gently nursed from me. It was odd that I hadn't felt her latch on, but sometimes she nursed more gently than other times. I looked at the clock on our night stand. Shit! I needed to get up and be out and about on my business for the day. It seemed like all she ever wanted to do was eat!

  I pulled her from my breast so that I could rise up off of my side into a sitting position. Her milk sopped mouth quivered with unhappiness. I threw my legs over the side of the bed. I wiped the sleep from my eyes still cradling her in my free arm.

  She started fussing immediately, kicking her chubby legs up in the air in anger, catching me in the face with her foot. Shit! That hurt! I was not in the mood for one of her notorious hissy fits at the moment that was for sure. I laid her down across the bed, and rubbed my temples.

  My head was pounding over the stress of the last few days with the news of Jean; Gina was still a mess, refusing to get out of her bed at home. There had been no further improvement in either of their conditions. If Jean didn't recover I would lose the only real help that I had with Preston; if Gina went over the deep end I would lose my BFF.

  For now I wish I had Jean back so that I could focus on helping Gina. Preston had seemed to turn into one fussy, demanding baby overnight. I couldn’t visit Gina and have any type of conversation with a whiney baby constantly on my hip or hanging from my tit. Right now, she was into full blown wailing. I was grinding my teeth in stress.

  I had had enough. Fuck breast-feeding. It seemed like I had lived with this baby attached to one of my tits for the last several months. She had sucked the life out of me. Her wailing was quickly grating on my nerves like fingernails raking down a chalkboard.

  I looked at her as she writhed and squirmed on the bed, her face scrunched up and red with anger. Her hands were clenched up in little fists.

  Something drove me to suddenly raise my hand back and slap it firmly against her cheek. I was desperate for something - anything to make her shut the fuck up. I just couldn't handle it any longer!

  The feel of my skin slapping harshly against her soft, baby skin was new to me. It stunned her I could tell. Her large blue eyes widened in surprise as she looked at me, crushed. She had never been slapped before. I had left a red hand print on her cheek. Perhaps it was time for her to realize that in life you don't always get what you want when you want it.

  I looked at her with mixed feelings; some of it was disdain. Her chubby body was proof enough for me that she hadn't missed too many meals attached to my tit like she constantly seemed to be. She needed to know her limits.

  She wailed in response to the slap. Large droplets of tears streaked paths down her cheeks. Good God; Trey would probably be racing in here now to see what the hell was going on. He hovered over me constantly watching me most of the time these days.

  I drew my hand back once again, and struck her firmly across her other cheek. I heard the resounding echo of the slap. It knocked the air out of her wailing momentarily as her head snapped back against the bed. I kind of enjoyed the feeling that I got when I took control of the situation.

  I finally picked her up off of the bed to change her diaper and get her ready so that she wouldn't delay me in getting my start for the day. She was still sobbing and crying when I placed her on the changing table in her room and removed her soaked diaper; she was sucking on her fist.

  I clasped my hand around her ankles, raising her butt up in the air so that I could put a clean diaper underneath it with my free hand. She continued to whimper and pull her legs back from me, making it impossible for me to get the clean diaper affixed around her.

  God I was so not in the mood for this today. I finally allowed her to succeed in freeing her legs from my grasp; she was kicking and sobbing. Her little arms reached up to me. She wanted me to pick her up; she still wanted the tit.

  I flipped her over onto her belly, which now provided me full access to her bare bottom. I pummeled my open hand against the bare flesh of her butt again and again.

  Listening to the sound of my skin slapping her skin reminded me of the sounds that I had often heard as far back as I could remember.

  Sometimes they had brought me pain; other times only a feeling of fear and disgust. I looked down at the baby as my thoughts drifted back to the present. Her bottom was crimson red from my smacks. By this time she was shrieking in pain; her chubby legs were squirming against the pad of her changing table trying to scoot away out of my reach. She was scared of me. I found comfort in it for some reason.

  There, there now. . . Perhaps I had slapped that fucking rash right off of her butt. Trey would have no reason to bitch at me about it anymore! He could no longer accuse me of being a negligent mother.

  She continued kicking and screaming on her changing table. Fuck it! If she wanted to lay there diaper-less and pitch a fit so be it. I was going to get dressed. I left her on the changing table in her room, and made a hasty retreat back to the master suite so that I could find something to wear in my closet.

  I searched for something 'non-mommy' to wear. I was sick to death of nursing bras and shirts that were constantly getting soaked with breast milk whenever the little shit started whining and crying. I wanted to look and feel sexy again, not like some wet-nurse with tits hanging down to the knees.

  I found a pair of tight jeans in my closet and pulled them up over my still slim hips and flat stomach. I rummaged through my closet drawers and found a sexy black top with a built in push-up bra. With my larger breasts it revealed a whole lot of cleavage.

  Breast-feeding did have its advantages I supposed.

  This would be perfect to wear out to the construction site this afternoon. I had to meet with the contractor about the flooring in the main hallway and he was ten shades of sexy.

  I had noticed how he had watched me whenever I went out to the site as long as Trey was not with me.

  Once dressed, I scooted into the bathroom to put my make-up on and fix my hair. As I looked up into the mirror over the sink I was startled to see the face of my mother looking back at me from the reflection. I looked around the bathroom to see where she was lurking.

  (What the . . .?)

  I turned back to the mirror and blinked my eyes several times before I realized that the reflection in the mirror was me - b
ut I now looked just like my MOTHER!

  Just then I heard the muffled sound of glass shattering. It had come from down the hallway. It sounded like it came from Preston's room. Damn! What had the little shit gotten into now? I couldn't recall whether I had locked the rails up on the side of her changing table before I had left her room.

  I hurried down the hallway to her room. I gasped as I looked over at her changing table and saw that it was empty. My gaze lowered to the carpeted floor beneath the changing table. She had fallen from the table onto the floor. She had broken into hundreds of pieces like a china doll.

  Trey appeared next to me in the doorway; he was going to hate me for what I had done. I turned to him sobbing and crying. A smile was plastered on his face as if he were a statue that had no other expression other than the one he currently wore.

  “I’m sorry Trey! I didn't mean to leave her on the changing table. Please, please - help me put her back together again!"

  I was on my knees, trying to gather up the broken pieces of Preston. Trey continued to stand there like a statue not bothering to help me.

  "Tylar! Tylar! What are you doing? Stop . . . you need to stop!"

  My eyes looked back up finding him gazing down at me. We were no longer in Preston's room. We were on the bed in our room. His statue-like expression was gone. It had been replaced by one of fear and confusion. It was familiar to me now as I came out of my dream-like haze.

  I had seen that same expression on his face every night for the past three nights. He reached over and flicked the switch on the lamp next to the bed. My face was covered with sweat. My breathing was quick and shallow. I looked up at him not masking my fear with the unanswered question.

  "She's fine. She's in her bed right where you tucked her in earlier, Tylar."

  His tone was different. He was exasperated; anyone could see that. For the first time I noticed the dark circles underneath his eyes. He had not been sleeping well, mostly because I had kept him up intermittently each night with these horrible nightmares that seemed so real.