by ANDREA SMITH
Oh God, my sweet spot swelled in response to his expertise. I writhed beneath his touch. I ached for his manhood to be inside of me. I moaned in exquisite pleasure.
“Did he make you moan, baby? Tell me the truth.”
“No, Trey; I did not moan for him.”
“Good girl,” he replied seeming genuinely pleased. Trey pulled me up into his strong arms. He placed his knee on the bed and laid me back against the pillows.
“How did he fuck you?” he asked. His sapphire blue eyes were bright with lust and with anger.
“Trey - I don’t think--”
“I asked how he fucked you,” he repeated, louder this time. “Was he on top of you?”
I looked up at Trey and felt fearful for the first time ever. I nodded my head affirmatively.
“Well, let’s see if I can oblige you much better than he did,” he said softly.
Trey placed his hand on his very erect shaft and separated my legs with the other. He guided his manhood into me with one strong thrust, burying himself inside of me deeply.
I cried out in pain, but pleasure was soon to follow. He talked softly to me then as his hips gyrated in circular motions and he flexed in and out of me more gently.
“Umm, baby,” he rasped and then moaned with pleasure, “you feel so fucking good Tylar.”
I met his thrusts with my own and I could tell he was quickening to orgasm. It was if picturing me with the ‘other man’ whose name he didn’t even know had somehow excited him.
“Did you fuck him back like you’re fucking me right now? Don’t lie to me.”
Holy shit! How do I answer that question?
Danny wasn’t inside of me all that long; but I did recall meeting his thrusts briefly until I pushed him away.
“Sort of,” I answered honestly.
Trey stopped immediately and raised my hips up; he smacked my ass hard with the palm of his hand.
What the hell??
“That's not an answer, Tylar. I want a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ to these questions. Do you understand?”
“Yes, I understand.”
“Okay,” he said now ramping up into his ‘interrogation’ tone. “Let me repeat the question. Did you fuck him back when his dick was inside of you?”
“Yes,” I answered starting to whimper.
“Did he like it? Did he moan for you?”
“Yes,” I replied, more tears coming down my cheeks.
Trey’s rhythm increased as he continued plunging in and out of me; my sweet spot was swelling as it did for him and only him.
“Did you like it? Did you moan for him?”
“No, Trey,” I answered truthfully; I was thankful that it was the truth. Somehow I bet that he would've known the difference.
“Did he come for you?”
“No, Trey.”
“Don’t lie,” he said, gritting his teeth as his hips rotated in a circular motion. I was moaning loudly now at the pleasure Trey was giving me.
“It’s the truth,” I rasped.
“Did you come for him?”
“No, Trey. I did not,” I replied.
I pulled his face to mine, covering him with kisses. My lips found his; I wanted to silence his questions. They were painful to me. This orgasm was about us. It was not about Danny.
He was moaning now; he told me I was his and only his. He asked me to repeat it. I did so gladly. We reached our peak together, crying out and clutching each other in a frenzy of passion and lust. I felt my wet ejaculate release as I moaned and whimpered in pleasure.
I felt Trey stop his thrusting as the familiar throbbing of his manhood prepared for release.
“What’s his name?” he rasped, trying to hold his orgasm in check until he knew. “What’s his fucking name?”
“Danny Duvall,” I whimpered. My orgasm finished as his exploded inside of me.
CHAPTER 15
Karla’s office hadn’t changed a bit since I'd last been to see her. It seemed like ages ago even though it was only last year. So much had happened.
Her receptionist had insisted I fill out a new sheet so significant events that had taken place since my last visit were properly recorded. I suspected Karla reviewed the notes before she came into the room.
My suspicions were correct when she entered her office several minutes later shaking her head.
“Wow - lots of stuff happening since we last talked,” she acknowledged reaching for my hand.
I shook her hand and offered her a weak smile. She didn’t know the half of it. I was grateful that the form didn’t allow for a lot of details. I suppose that’s what we'd get to during our conversation.
“First off Tylar, I'd like to extend my condolences to both you and Trey at the loss of your baby. I’m sure that was the most traumatic of the events over this past year or more.”
“Yes, it's been tough. But I mean those things happen; it's not all that uncommon.”
“Yes, they do, but I guess I can’t fathom anything worse than for a parent to bury a child,” she said, adjusting her reading glasses to peruse the second page of the form.
“Well, to be honest, Karla, it really didn’t feel as if I was burying a child.”
She sat back and studied me for a moment. She clasped her hands together resting them in her lap.
“Tell me what it felt like.”
“It was more of like I miscarried late in the game. I mean, it was a stillbirth. The baby never breathed outside of my body.”
“Let’s see,” she said, picking up the form again and glancing at it. “You were nearly seven months along in the gestation. The survival rate is fairly high that far along.”
“I would prefer not to debate it, Karla. I'm simply telling you how I felt that's all."
“That’s fine,” she replied, picking up her pen to make a note. I could imagine what she was jotting down in her notebook:
‘Patient feels minimal remorse for loss of child.’
“I mean, I'm not trying to say I wasn’t saddened by our loss, I just don’t necessarily feel that it's why I feel the need to start therapy with you again.”
“I understand,” she replied. “Why don’t you tell me what you feel are the reasons you're seeking therapy again?”
I told her what had happened with Trey and I growing apart during my pregnancy, the incident I'd witnessed between Trey and Amber, and our subsequent separation and my involvement with Danny Duvall.
“So admittedly, your pregnancy this time was much different than the one with Preston had been?”
“Oh, absolutely,” I confirmed. “I felt sick the majority of the time. I was tired and had no sexual appetite whatsoever. It was very hard on Trey.”
“It sounds as if it was very hard on you,” she commented scribbling her notes. “Was Trey supportive of you during this time?”
“Well sure, you know as much as he could’ve been what with his law practice in the city and all. He made sure that Jean got moved in right away so she could look after Preston and the house.”
“How else did he support you?”
“I’m not sure what you mean, Karla. Trey works fifty to sixty hours a week. Even when he’s home he brings work with him. He was very sympathetic about my condition.”
“Now that’s an interesting way to put it.”
Oh good Lord - what psychological bell or whistle did I set off now with that simple statement?
“What do you mean?” I asked, watching her scribble.
“Well, you used the word sympathetic to describe Trey’s reaction to your difficult pregnancy.”
“Well he was very sympathetic. Is that wrong?”
“No, not at all,” she smiled. “I just wondered why you didn’t use the word empathetic instead.”
“Well come on, Karla, they practically mean the same thing.”
“But there is a difference and you get that, right?”
I was getting irritated with her patronizing attitude towards me. Was this some test of my scholarly a
bility?
“Yes, yes,” I halfway snapped. “I know the difference.”
“Explain it to me, please.”
My God! She's treating me like a student!
I rolled my eyes before answering. She caught it, I could tell.
“Sympathy is feeling sorry for or having pity for someone that's experiencing something that the person who's sympathizing can’t relate to at the moment. Empathy's more like feeling what that person is feeling; placing yourself in that person’s place as much as possible and feeling it with them.”
“Very good. So you chose ‘sympathetic’ on purpose?”
“Yes, Karla.”
“When was the last time you and Trey took a vacation away from everyone, just the two of you?”
I didn’t have to think for more than a nanosecond. “Our two-day honeymoon.”
“Yes, I think I recalled in my notes Trey felt that was a stressor for you because of having to leave the baby.”
“That’s right.”
“So, does Trey have vacation from his practice? Do you have the opportunity of spending some alone time away from everything?”
“Trey mostly takes a day here or there when he needs to. I mean we’ve had a lot going on, so I guess to answer your question, it's never come up. He's a senior partner and it’s demanding. Then when they hired Amber, he had to spend even more time mentoring her as a junior partner. I mean the success of the firm is dependent upon how successful each partner is in billing hours and reaching favorable settlements.”
“Very good,” she said smiling.
Very good, what?
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“You’ve got it all down pat as far as what Trey’s priorities have been.”
She's starting to really piss me off!
“He’s my husband; I understand his career. He has given me free reign to have one of my own.”
“Tell me about your career, Tylar.”
“I handle the horses at our ranch. I worked with Marcus to get licensed for boarding and breeding.”
“Worked, as in past tense?” she asked.
“Well, I had to take the last couple of months during my pregnancy off when I was just so tired; then after I recovered I went back to it for a few weeks. Then Trey and I separated for a few weeks and we just reconciled this past week. So I'll be jumping back into it now that I’m home.”
“I’ll tell you what; give me the details on what caused the separation between you and Trey, so that I can make notes and then what led up to the reconciliation. I want time to digest this before our next visit. I’m sure that I'll have some questions. “
Oh I'm absolutely sure of that . . .
I filled her in on the basic information relative to Amber and Trey’s making out; my escape to my father’s home where I proceeded to act out my lost youth, and then what transpired with Trey and I after that. I didn’t give her any information about Trey’s questioning me in bed about what Danny did or didn’t do. I decided to save that tidbit for our next visit. I was sure her questioning would uncover it without my offering it up.
Karla instructed me to schedule another appointment one-on-one before she would decide whether she wanted to counsel Trey and me as a couple. I thought that this was a bit strange, but it was her practice I suppose to handle however she wished.
I called Gina from my cell on my way home. I confirmed Trey and I'd be meeting her and Tristan for his birthday night out tomorrow. I asked her if she and Tristan had booked the cruise yet that we had given him for Christmas.
“No, girlfriend, with everything that happened right after that it’s been impossible. It expires at year end too.”
“Are you planning on using it?” I asked.
“Why? Do you want it?”
“I’ll buy it from you, if you're willing to sell it.”
“Well it's not mine to sell, but I'll ask Tristan. I’m sure he'd be glad to give it to you.”
“No,” I said firmly, “I want to buy it with my own money.”
“Whatever girlfriend, I’ll let you know when I see you tomorrow evening, okay?”
“Sounds good. Oh and Gina? This is a BFF secret.”
“Got it,” she said.
When I got home Preston was just getting up from her nap. I told Jean I wanted to make dinner for Trey that night. She said she would entertain Preston in the playroom. I asked Jean if she'd mind feeding Preston early this evening as I wanted a romantic dinner with Trey tonight.
Jean was delighted and said that there was no problem. I made Trey’s favorite pot roast dinner; the same way that I'd made it before for him. I baked a chocolate pie for him. It turned out perfect.
I showered and dressed in a tight red dress. I took extra care with my make-up and hair. I put on a pair of my four-inch heels. I set the table in the dining room for both of us complete with candles that were ready to light as soon as Trey walked through the door. Jean fed Tylar; the both of them retired to Jean’s apartment upstairs for the bulk of the evening.
By 8:00 p.m., I was sitting in the dining room downing my third glass of wine. I hadn’t heard from Trey.
I hated calling him; it kind of defeated the purpose of surprising him with a romantic dinner made with my own hands especially for him. I gave it a few more minutes then poured another glass of wine. The bottle was officially empty now. I sat and sipped it slowly.
Finally I gave up and cleared the table of the still clean dishes and silverware. I turned the oven off, taking the now dried-out pot roast out and sticking it into the refrigerator. I took my half-empty glass of wine upstairs to our suite. I was definitely feeling a buzz. I kicked off my heels just inside the bedroom door.
Climbing up on our bed I hit the remote turning the flat screen on. I set the timer and surfed channels until I found a show that I recognized. I downed the rest of my wine and collapsed back against the bed pillows.
It was a while later when I heard Trey come through the bedroom door. The television had shut off; the room was dark. He tripped over the shoes I'd kicked off right inside the bedroom door.
“What the fuck?” he cursed as he flipped the overhead light on to see what he'd tripped over on his way in. “Jesus Christ, Tylar,” he said, “why the hell did you leave your shoes in front of the fucking door?”
He's drunk!
The clock read 11:49 p.m.
“Where in the hell have you been?”
He looked over at me as I scrambled to sit up on the bed still dressed in my sexy red dress. I saw his puzzled expression as he took in my garb.
“Were we supposed to go out tonight?” he asked his eyes getting big. “Oh shit, honey, I forgot; Tristan’s birthday dinner. Fuck!”
“That’s tomorrow night, Trey,” I said.
“Well then what I’d miss tonight?”
“Homemade pot roast, a chocolate pie and getting lucky,” I snapped going into the bathroom to wash my face and get ready for bed.
“Baby, I’m sorry,” he said, loosening his tie and following me into the bathroom. “Time just seemed to fly. The partners were celebrating a big win on a case; well into the high six figures for the firm’s share.”
“Really?” I asked washing my face at the sink. Trey was unzipping his fly to pee. “Whose case was it, Trey?”
“It was one of Pierce’s cases. Well, Amber second-chaired, but you know, we all celebrated the win.”
“Congratulations,” I said patting my skin dry, squeezing a dab of moisturizer into my palm. I applied it to my face rubbing it in circular motions. I brushed my teeth and shrugged out of my dress and thigh-high stockings.
Trey was behind me now, wrapping his arms around me. His hands were all over my breasts. He was kissing my neck; it sent shivers up through me.
“You like that don’t you baby?” he asked softly.
I elbowed him in the gut and left his embrace as his arms dropped from me.
“Ouch! What the fuck's your problem?”
“T
rey, riddle me this? At what point was your phone out of service?”
“What?” he nearly screeched, “I never said my phone was out of service.”
“You’re right. You didn’t. That’s why there's no excusing the fact that you didn’t bother to call to tell me you'd be late, very late, in getting home. That doesn’t work for me.”