Baby Love (10 page)

              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.

(W
hat the . . .?)

I turned back to the mirror and blinked my eyes several times before I realized that the reflection in the mirror was me - but 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!"