by ANDREA SMITH
This had become one of my most favorite times of the day. She fell asleep in my arms. I kissed her forehead and gently placed her in the crib. She loved sleeping on her tummy now. I pulled her blanket up around her and her thumb found her mouth as she slept.
Trey was still in his office. He was talking to someone on his Cell phone. I only heard the tail end of the conversation where he told someone he would see them this weekend. I showered and climbed into bed. I'd fallen asleep by the time Trey finally came to bed. He was still damp from his shower as he curled up next to me.
He wrapped an arm around me, pulling me close to him. I felt his warm lips as they kissed the nape of my neck, my shoulder and my cheek. He gently nibbled an ear lobe. I hoped he didn’t think we were going to have make-up sex. That was not going to happen. His hand lowered to my hip as he pulled my nightgown up, his fingers pushing past the elastic of my panties and plied the folds of my sex gently. His warm lips continued to kiss my neck moving toward my throat as he rolled me towards him. I could feel myself getting wet for him. Damn!
His mouth found mine as he drew me to him, kissing and tracing my lips with his tongue. I fought not to respond. I lost. I laced my arms around his neck pulling his face closer to mine as our tongues danced together in a passionate kiss. I felt his hand move to lower my panties and he lifted me up to take them completely off. He pulled my nightgown up and over my head. He'd come to bed naked.
He moaned against my lips. My body was responding to him and it pissed me off. I loved Trey, but he'd really hurt my feelings this evening with his fist-pounding tactics at dinner. He'd made me feel subservient in a way; as if I didn’t have a say or a vote in our household or investments. He'd been the one who, only last week, insisted the money was “ours” and not “his.” I supposed it was “our” money until I wanted to spend some of it.
“Come on baby,” he whispered against my lips. “You know that feels good. You know you love what I’m doing to you.”
He lowered his lips to my breasts, tracing the nipple with his tongue, circling it over and over again. His fingers were expertly exploring the folds of my womanhood and my hips were thrusting to meet his fingers as they pushed and rotated inside of me.
Damn him!
His lips and tongue traveled further south until they joined his magic fingers at the apex of my womanhood. His tongue swirled over my clitoris, flicking it rhythmically as my hips gyrated against his mouth.
“That’s my baby,” he said softly, licking and kissing me down there. “My baby's so wet and so ready.”
I will not moan; I will not moan!
Trey’s tongue continued to wash over my clitoris as he removed his fingers from me. I could hear the sound of a condom packet rip and felt his hands move to his erection as he rolled the condom over the length of his hard shaft. I hadn’t touched his junk at all tonight. I hadn’t even opened my eyes. For all I knew, this wasn’t Trey. This could be anyone I decided. Yes - this could be someone other than Trey. Perhaps this was . . . Tristan!
Yes, my imagination decided it was Tristan doing all of these delicious and forbidden things to me. Tristan, with his longer hair and emerald green eyes pleasuring me in bed. The man that was always caring and sweet to me; never treating me dismissively the way that Trey had; showing patience and compassion for everyone.
I felt him lower himself to me; I opened my legs, to welcome and accept his erection. Once there, I wrapped my legs around his hips, pulling him deeper inside of me as my hips arched up against him. It felt so good; so damn good.
“Mmmm,” I moaned. “You feel so good. I love having you inside of me.” He increased his rhythm, plunging in and out of me with beautiful and expert precision. I moaned in sweet pleasure feeling myself contract around him.
“I need you to kiss me,” I said, hungry to see what his lips would feel like on mine.
I felt his warm and sensual lips softly mold to mine perfectly. His tongue teased mine playfully.
I imagined his emerald green eyes watching me as I writhed in pleasure; totally surrendering myself to him. We kissed with hunger and passion. My hips were rotating and I could feel myself squeezing and contracting him to climax. I arched my back as he placed his hands under my ass penetrating me deeply. The head of his shaft was rubbing my sweet spot like I'd never felt before.
“Oh God!” I screamed. “You're the best baby. I love the way you fuck me. That’s it, baby; that’s it.”
My orgasm exploded with intensity like no other I'd ever experienced. I heard myself moan with each pulsating release. His climax was unraveling within me. I cried out with pleasure; I never wanted this to end. My lips found his and I kissed him as he finished coming; he was moaning with pleasure as well. I was content that I'd pleased him. I felt him shudder as he finished; he continued giving me sweet kisses.
We were both panting with our exertion. Too soon he pulled himself out of me. I rolled over on my side, flushed with the afterglow of our lovemaking. I drifted off to sleep quickly never having opened my eyes.
When I awoke the next morning I saw that Trey had already gotten up and headed to the gym for his morning workout. I recalled the events of the previous night and shame washed over me.
I felt sick in the pit of my stomach. I needed to call Gina. There was no other person I could trust with this other than my very best friend. It was early; only 7:00 a.m. Preston wasn't even awake yet but this could not wait. I needed to unload this from my conscience. I phoned Gina and heard her groggy voice on the other end of the phone.
“Somebody better have died for you to call me this fucking early, girlfriend!”
“Gina,” I rasped, beside myself, “I did something awful! I cheated on Trey!”
My voice gave way to racking, guilt-ridden sobs.
CHAPTER 20
By the time Gina arrived at our apartment I'd fed breakfast to Preston and she was in her playpen happily chewing on her assortment of rubber toys. I'd put a pot of coffee on for Gina as I knew that she wasn’t a morning person.
The doorman buzzed over the intercom that she'd arrived. I left the front door ajar for her as I returned to the kitchen to shut the oven timer off. I got the blueberry muffins out that I'd baked trying to kill time before Gina got here. I poured myself a glass of apple juice and put the muffins on a plate. I heard Gina breeze through the front door, calling my name.
“In here,” I called out. “Want a cup of coffee?”
She appeared in the doorway to the kitchen looking as if she'd literally climbed out of bed, put a pair of jeans on under her nightgown, threw on her coat and drove over.
“What the fuck? No, I don’t want a cup of coffee. I want you to sit your ass down and explain to me why you would cheat on your husband? After you saw all the hell that Ian put me through; the pain and suffering, the humiliation - how could you do that to your own husband?”
I immediately felt a bit sheepish for my over-dramatization. “I didn’t technically cheat on Trey - it just feels as if I have,” I sobbed taking a seat at the table.
“What?”
I explained to Gina that Trey and I had a bit of a disagreement without telling her the specifics. I told her that it wasn’t so much the content of the disagreement but the tone he'd taken with me making me feel subservient and insignificant. I explained that I'd gone to bed pissed off at him and that he'd come to bed horny. I admitted that because I was horny as well but still pissed, I fantasized that he was someone else and had gotten off seven ways from Sunday.
I raised my head to look up at her where she was standing next to the breakfast bar. I saw her mouth twitch as if she was finding humor in what I'd just admitted to her.
“I think I'll have that cup of coffee,” she stated. “Are those blueberry muffins?”
“Gina? Did you hear what I said?”
“I’m sorry, Ty,” she said, starting to giggle loudly. “You actually are beating yourself up because you fantasized in the sack? What? You don’t think millions of p
eople do that every night? What about Mrs. Martello at the fruit stand near our club? You’ve met her, right?”
I nodded wondering what the hell Mrs. Martello had to do with my infidelity.
“Okay and you’ve seen Mr. Martello on occasion, too. You know, the guy wearing a gravy-stained, yellowed-with-age, tee shirt that doesn’t cover his big, hairy belly?”
I nodded still wondering about how this applied to my circumstance.
“Mrs. Martello told me that she and her old man have sex every night of the week. Do you know why?”
I shook my head indicating that I was clueless.
“She told me the secret of their great sex life is that for the past twenty years she's pictured him as Sinatra when they're in bed. I swear to God, that’s the truth.”
“But, Gina, that’s different.”
“How so?” she asked, picking at a blueberry muffin.
“Well, for one thing, Sinatra is dead. Plus its okay I guess to fantasize that you’re with a rock star or some famous sports figure or celebrity.”
“Damn straight,” she replied. “I used to fantasize that Ian was freaking Johnny Depp - no harm, no foul. So, what’s your point?”
“I fantasized that Trey was his brother, Tristan.”
“Holy shit,” she said, sitting down. "That's a bit more complicated I guess.”
“You think?”
“Well, be honest, Ty; do you think that you have an actual crush on Tristan?”
“No, I mean, I like him a lot as my brother-in-law. I think it’s sort of because he looks a lot like Trey, yet he’s a little older and more mature. Plus, he's definitely more laid back than Trey. He never would've acted like Trey did when I brought up the idea of investing in the club.”
Gina’s raised her eyebrows at that.
Shit!
I hadn’t meant to divulge the specifics of our argument.
“So, you basically got pissed because the Hot Nazi trashed the idea you had about buying Ian’s share of the club?”
“I’m sorry, Gina; I really didn’t mean to share all of that with you.”
“No - no, it’s all good,” she said pouring coffee into a mug and taking her place again at the bar. “So tell me, how hot was the fantasy sex with Tristan?”
~~~~~~~~~~
Gina had discussed my offer to invest my money with Jesse, her attorney. I specifically instructed her not to divulge my name. He was a junior associate located on the floor below Trey’s, but I didn’t want to take any chances on having Trey find out yet. Jesse was to make an offer to buy out Ian’s portion to his attorney so at this point, there was nothing left to do but wait.
“Won’t it be great to be partners, Ty?”
Gina was excited at the prospect. I was too for that matter. It was just letting Trey know what I'd done if the offer was accepted that made me a bit nervous. I guess I'd cross that bridge when I came to it.
As it turned out, Trey’s phone conversation from the night before had been with Tristan. He was going to be in Atlanta this coming weekend with Libby and wanted all of us to get together. Trey had shared that with me when he called from his office at lunch time. I dreaded having to deal with that bitch again.
He was acting as if everything was back to normal. I still was carrying guilt about my fantasy, but Gina had told me over and over it was perfectly normal. She told me under no circumstances should I confess it to Trey.
I'd made Trey’s favorite dinner tonight: pot roast with carrots, potatoes and gravy; I'd followed his mother’s recipe and baked him a chocolate pie. I set the dining room table very formally with good china and cloth napkins. I opened a bottle of red merlot to breathe.
I dressed Preston in one of her wool plaid jumpers with a long sleeved shirt underneath. I put winter tights on her and a pair of patent leather dress shoes. She looked adorable. I moved her high chair into the dining room. Trey came in around 6:30 p.m. and immediately knew something was up.
“Shit, we aren’t having company tonight, are we?”
“No, silly,” I said, helping him off with his trench coat. “I just wanted us to have a nice romantic dinner that’s all.”
He cocked an eyebrow looking around the room and then back to me. “Where’s the baby?”
“She’s in her playpen right over there, Trey. Why don’t you go in and spend a few minutes with her while I get dinner on the table, okay?”
I went back to the kitchen and finished pureeing some of the baked yams I'd made for Preston. I poured Trey and I a glass of wine and set it at our place settings. I finished putting the food on the table and filled our crystal tumblers with ice water. Everything looked delicious.
“Dinner's ready, Trey. Would you put Preston in her high chair?”
Trey was impressed with dinner. He complimented me over and over again about how great everything tasted. He said my chocolate pie was every bit as good as his mother's. I felt better about last night seeing how happy I'd made him this evening. After dinner Trey offered to bathe Preston and get her ready for bed.
“Thanks, sweetie,” I said. “I’m going to grab a shower.”
He leaned down and kissed me softly on my lips. “Thanks for a wonderful dinner, baby.”
An hour later Trey and I were in bed watching a movie together. I was curled up in his arms feeling better about everything. Gina was right. Fantasies were a normal part of sexuality. My phone chimed on the nightstand. It was Gina.
“Hi, Gina, what’s up?”
“Great news! Jesse just phoned that Ian’s attorney got back with him this evening. It’s a go. He’s accepted the buyout. You and I'll be equal partners at the Sanctuary, how about that?”
“Really?” I said. I found myself excited now over the prospect that this was really going to happen. I'd have something of my own.
“So,” Gina continued, “We need to get the funds together. Jesse says a cashier’s check will do. I'll call you in the morning once he gets the partnership LLC papers together.”
“Sure, Gina, I’ll talk to you then.”
“What was that about?” Trey asked, quirking an eyebrow.
Holy shit. . .
“Oh, that was Gina.”
“I know it was Gina; that much was evident. What’s going on?”
“She's going to buy out Ian’s share of the club. She has a partner."
“She found a partner that quickly?”
“Yeah. It’s me.”
CHAPTER 21
I soon learned that Trey could give as well as he got when it came to the silent treatment. He hadn’t said a word to me once he'd stopped yelling. He was furious when I told him that I'd used my savings account money to buy out Ian’s share of the club. He said that I had no business doing that without discussing it with him first. I told him that I didn’t see it that way.
He left for work the following morning without so much as kissing me good-bye. Gina came by at 10:00 a.m. to pick Preston and I up. We headed to the bank to get the cashier’s check. We drove down to Trey’s office building thankful that Jesse was on a different floor. He had received the signed bill of sale from Ian’s attorney; he'd prepared the LLC partnership agreement between Gina and me. It was fairly simple. The difficult part was yet to come. I'd no clue as to how to run a business; or in this case, help run a business.
Gina admitted that Ian had taken care of booking the talent, advertising, payroll, hiring and firing. She said she'd trained the bartenders and scheduled their shifts, filling in when one of them called off. They had an outside accountant who kept the books. An audit and full accounting had been conducted prior to the drafting of the separation agreement that would become Gina and Ian’s final divorce decree in about thirty days.
Our LLC took possession of the club immediately upon execution of transfer of title. Gina was ecstatic; I was scared shitless. It didn’t help that Trey wasn't speaking to me. I needed his support now more than ever.
Gina said our first order of business was to fire the “skan
k” which she'd no reluctance in doing. She announced that I'd be the upstairs bartender after terminating the skank. Of course, I knew nothing about the science of mixology. My experience entailed getting a beer from the fridge for Trey or pouring myself a glass of wine. I hadn’t even operated a computerized cash register. Gina didn’t see that as an obstacle.
She presented me with my work uniform, which consisted of a short black skirt, tight white blouse with the first three buttons unbuttoned, and a silky black vest. I was instructed to wear dark hose and a minimum of 3” black heels.
She gave me a bartender’s guide for mixed drinks and scheduled training time for me over the next two days at the club for four hours a shot.
Jean had been released from rehab. She'd called me her first day home letting me know that she was ready to start back to work. The timing was perfect. She assured me that she had no physical restrictions and felt as good as she had before the accident. When I asked if she might possibly be interested in babysitting while I started back to work she was thrilled at the idea. She assured me that she was more than up to caring for “her little angel.” That warmed my heart immediately. She watched her the two afternoons while I underwent Gina’s training.
Tristan was coming to Atlanta to spend a long weekend with Libby. I didn’t know exactly what Trey had planned as far as entertaining or hanging out with them since this would by my inaugural weekend as half-owner of the Sanctuary. Jean was going to be at the apartment on Friday by 5:00 p.m. to stay with Preston until Trey got home. I'd conveyed that to Trey verbally receiving little more than a nod and a grunt in return.
Thursday night, I bathed Preston and got her dressed in her pajamas. I sat with her in the rocking chair in her bedroom and read from her favorite book, “Goodnight Moon.” She'd try to turn the pages before I was finished reading. She soon became distracted from the book and squirmed against me rooting for my breast. She hadn’t done that for a while.
“What’s the matter, baby?” I asked softly, lifting my shirt and unfastening my nursing bra. She immediately leaned over and latched on to my nipple. I watched as she curled up against me sucking gently.