6+ Us Makes Eight_Baby Makes Three

by Nicole Elliot

  Chapter Fifteen

  Emilia

  The bride and I are on a tight schedule, so we need to meet today.

  The word washed over me like an acid. Or worse, poison. It went right to my core, like it was piercing my heart. I almost wanted to cry and then I felt so pathetic for it.

  We were not dating, and he surely didn’t owe me anything. But it still hurt. I had escaped to a small café around the corner. I needed something to calm me down, so I ordered some tea. That’s when I saw the call. I didn’t have to see into the future to know it was him calling me, following up on why I didn’t show up.

  What I hated the most was that he made me so unprofessional. I didn’t skip meetings, I didn’t blow people off or stand potential clients up. But here I was. Being an unprofessional florist. I knew I had to get my head out of my ass, but I needed a minute.

  I spent a month literally dreaming about this guy. Waking up thinking about him, going to bed thinking about him, even pleasuring myself to him! He wiggled his way into my life at the oddest of times and then I had to run from him.

  I supposed it was a good thing since he was fucking engaged. The man was about to get married and I am over here fuming over tea about him. I wanted to google ‘what to do if your crush is engaged,’ but I was not in high school anymore.

  He called me again while I sat there, but I wasn’t ready to answer the phone yet. I had to get over this before I met him. It would be even worse if I was yelling at a client about being engaged when he was fucking me up against a wall. Or even worse, not being able to hold it together in front of his fiancée and then ruining two people’s lives. I couldn’t do that to them or myself.

  So, I needed to fume. Gather my thoughts. Make up a story, and then get about the work. Being around my flowers would help. They were almost the same as being around my mother. I finished my hot tea and then walked back to the shop. I nervously cleared the corners before I kept going and entered the shop.

  The smell hit me; lilacs and roses together are something out of a dream. I had put the lilacs in the front after the ball, remembering that it was his favorite flower. But now I just wanted them out of the way. I replaced them with purple daffodils, filling the vases with something new. I changed out the water and clipped the beads.

  All the flowers needed to be clipped, it would take a while. But I was glad to do it. It was a welcome distraction. A few people walked in, I sold about two hundred dollars’ worth of flowers. Graduation season was the best for me, second to Christmas. I put on a friendly smile and served my customers. Why couldn’t I do that with the man from the ball?

  Because he was buried so deep inside you, you forgot your own name.

  It wasn’t until two that things slowed down, and I could finish up in the back. The bell of the door swung open with another customer. I smiled softly and grabbed the vase of lilacs to put next to the peonies.

  But when I rounded the corner, it wasn’t just any customer. He stood by the counter, unseeingly tall amidst the flowers. The sunshine from the skylight fell right onto him, setting his hair aflame under the light, showing me the rigid lines of his muscles visible under the thin linen shirt. His thighs were thick and strong, his ass was perfect in those pants. My stomach clenched at the memory of him spreading my legs apart with those thighs. He had his hands in his pockets, the veins of his forearm leading right down to the seam of his pants. Why did he have to be so perfect? If he wasn’t so God damned gorgeous, I don’t think I would be in this much trouble.

  It all happened in seconds. I rounded the corner, my breath caught in my throat as I gasped; my eyes met his. Those smoldering green emeralds met mine with an intensity that made my knees weak, and then the vase flew out of my hands and fell to a shattered mess on the ground.

  “Shit!” I squealed jumping back so no glass would get on me.

  I scrambled for the dust pan behind the counter, tucking my hair behind my ear.

  “Let me help you.” He held out his hand, and I forced myself not to look up, but I did.

  My chest was constricted, almost no air could get through. I wanted to say hell no, you can’t help me. I don’t want your grimy, cheating help. He didn’t cheat on me, but it was still a shitty thing to do.

  “I’m fine.” I shoved my way past him and started brushing up the glass on my hands and knees.

  He sighed and stepped over the broken glass anyway, picking up the lilacs for me. He set them on the counter and I felt him staring down at me as I swept some stuff up, and then trashed it. When I was done, I ignored him as I went to wash my hands. Stop being unprofessional, this is your job.

  I forced myself to calm down and treat him like any other person. His moral capacity is none of my business.

  “How can I help you?” I appeared back at the counter, clearing my throat to get his attention.

  He turned to face me, and I had to look past him to ignore those eyes. They made me want to get down on my knee and suck him off right here, then beg him to take me against the desk. Before I knew it, I was flushed and rubbing my knees to relieve the pressure that I let slip through me.

  “I’m Tristan Cox. I had a meeting with you at noon for a wedding arrangement.” His deep even voice washed over me in familiarity. Did he even remember me?

  He was looking at me, and elsewhere, but I couldn’t tell that he could recognize me at all.

  “I was supposed to meet with a Levi.” I replied, my voice low and unbecoming. I cleared my throat, hoping the next time I spoke, I wouldn’t sound so prepubescent.

  “Right. That’s my friend. Anyway, you didn’t show up so that’s why I called you.”

  “I got your messages.” I understood that I had probably wasted his time and pissed him off, but he was pretty much yelling at me in those messages. He had no idea why I wasn’t there, so I didn’t think he had to be quite so harsh.

  “Good, so you know I am in a little bit of a bind here.” His jaw was tight, and his eyes narrowed as he looked down at me. I didn’t remember him being this much of an asshole that night. It seemed he was really going to act like he didn’t know me.

  Well, two can play at that game.

  “Yeah. The good selection isn’t here. It’s just down the highway.” I explained.

  “You have a car?” he asked. I shook my head.

  “Ride with me then, I don’t have all day.”

  He snapped. It made me frown, but I followed him anyway. Why did I do that?

  Chapter Sixteen

  Tristan

  If I acknowledged it was her, we wouldn’t get any work done.

  As soon as I saw her in those tight pants, hugging her ass and every inch of her curves, with that loose shirt on, I was having trouble just staying upright. I told my eyes to stop wandering, but all I wanted to do was bend her over this table, taste her sweet pussy and then pound it until she was screaming.

  But I had no idea why she was being so hostile to me. It was obvious she had recognized me because she had dropped a fucking vase for crying out loud. One she wouldn’t let me help her clean up. I am very observant, I know she moved the lilacs from the front since this morning. I told her they were my favorite, she doesn’t seem forgetful, just a little unprofessional. I hadn’t done anything to her and she was treating me like flattened gum on the bottom of shoe.

  The ride was uncomfortably silent to the floral shop in the city. I guess she had partnered with them for bigger orders. I wanted to break the silence so many times, but I was afraid she would scream at me or something. She was clenching her hands so hard; the color was fading.

  “Is something bothering you?” I finally asked. I couldn’t take it, I was being attacked in secret or something. Did I look at her wrong? Some women can be sensitive about that. But we had already been very, very acquainted with each other so I doubt there was anywhere I could look that would actually bother her.

  “No.” She answered, her voice short and stern. I glanced at her, all I heard were her shallow inhales
over the rev of the quiet engine.

  I can’t say I didn’t try. She directed me to the shop but that was it. Once I parked, I stopped her before we went inside.

  “Look, I am not one for games. I know you recognize me from the ball last month.” I trapped her between the store front and the passenger door. Her eyes widened as she looked up at me.

  Those baby blues eyes undid me, my anger softened as I looked down at her. She was so beautiful. Her eyes were so clear, with so much wonder. Just like that night. Her thin brows knitted as she looked through the sun at me. Her hair was like a chocolate, framing her face with wavy curls.

  “Don’t you remember?” I smirked a bit. Knowing there was no way she could forget.

  “No. I remember.”

  “Well, is that why you’re being difficult? We can still get along and get this done. If you don’t want to…” maybe she was nervous about being around me again. Sometimes it happens, you have sex with someone you don’t know and then you see them again, wondering what to do. “We can just be friends, we don’t have to have sex again.”

  Her jaw jutted back in response as she scoffed. She held her hands up and backed away from the car.

  “Whoa, you are seriously sick!” I furrowed my brow in confusion.

  “Sick? How am I sick? Everyone has casual sex you know, even with strangers. Nothing wrong with that.” She stepped back, crossing her arms as if to shield herself from me.

  “There is a problem when you’re engaged!”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Tristan

  I stared back at her. Confused, very confused. Her cute button nose was scrunched up as she glared up at me, her eyes in narrow slits. I would be a lot more pissed at her accusation if she didn’t look so damned cute right now. And beautiful. The sunlight made her ethereal.

  “Sorry?” I finally managed to say something back. A smirk fought my lips, but I knew it would only make her angrier if I saw any humor in her utter confusion.

  “Don’t play dumb, it’s unbecoming.”

  A couple walked past us. We were to out in the open to be arguing like this. I was thinking of her reputation first. She was too angry to notice, but I did, and I was not that much of an asshole.

  “Come here.”

  I didn’t wait for her to agree, I took her slender wrist in my hand and pulled her to the first private place I saw. An alcove of a large brick building. No one could see us. Once inside, I turned to face her she was still fuming.

  “Look, Emilia, I don’t know what you think is going on here, but I’m not engaged.” I said with a simple, even tone. I thought it would convince her but, I guessed wrong.

  “You’re a really good liar. Honestly, I just feel bad for your fiancé.”

  I furrowed my brow and pinched the bridge of my nose like an old man. It wasn’t until I let out a heavy sigh that I could speak calmly again.

  “I’m not engaged. My best friend is. He’s a lawyer and he doesn’t have time to do all this. I’m the best man and he asked for my help.”

  “You said ‘the bride and I’ in your voicemail.” She interrupted my train.

  “Yeah, but not my bride. Gabriella isn’t my type.” A nervous laugh escaped me.

  “Oh yeah? What is?” She crossed her arms, making her breasts push against her collarbone, creating a swell I just wanted to run my lips across. I actively tried not to lick my lips.

  “Dark brunette and sassy.” I smirked. Her eyes widened, her expression softened.

  I stepped towards her cautiously, not sure if she had a real temper or not. It could go either way. But when I was inches apart from her, so close I felt the heat of her body and the sharp inhale of her breath, she hadn’t moved. I let my eyes do the talking as I went from her eyes to her full lips, slowly parting with each hot, passing second. And farther, to where her arms tugged the collar of her shirt down to reveal that creamy swell. I found her eyes again as I pried her arms from her chest. My fingers trailed a slow, heated trail down to her elbows until I gripped her waist, pulling her closer. Closer.

  “I forgot your name.” She whispered, her voice like a bell in the wind. It made me smile. She made me smile way too damn easy.

  “Tristan. Tristan Cox.” Her eyes caught mine.

  “That sounds familiar…” she thought aloud.

  I was glad she couldn’t place it. Usually, everyone did—well, every woman did, and it just fucked everything up in my head. But she didn’t know for sure. She wasn’t using me. Yet. My conscience was a real dick.

  “Does billionaire tech engineer ring a bell?”

  She looked up at me, eyes wide and curious, but still not recognizing it. “No.” She replied.

  “You want to talk about my job or you want me to kiss you?”

  “You’re definitely not engaged?”

  “Nope, recently divorced actually. I am free agent.”

  She answered by pressing her body to mine and searing her fingers through my hair. I inhaled her sweet, lilac scent before I closed the space and kissed her. It was like going back in time, to four weeks ago where I was the most relaxed I had ever been in a long time. It felt so familiar, so good, and so right—to have her lips on mine. Her body on mine, her breast swelling to my chest. She was so fucking soft and warm, the most comforting woman I ever had beneath my palms. I coaxed her lips apart, her lips gladly parted and accepted my tongue, moving with hers so furiously my cock ached.

  I backed her up until we both thudded against the rough brick wall. Her knee inched up my leg, rubbing against the outside of my thigh. I took her wrist and pinned them above her head, keeping her completely at my mercy.

  Our lips were a wet, heated mess. The air filled with our sharp gasps of breath because neither of us wanted to stop to breathe. I nudged my thigh between her legs, pressing up on her sex. The heat seared right through my jeans and she moaned against my mouth, bucking her hips toward mine and deepening the kiss. I bit her bottom lip ever so softly, rising a small whimper out of her. I needed to be inside her. I needed to hear her scream.

  I used my other hand to inch up her shirt, feeling the smooth skin of her stomach. I never got to the last time. She was fleshy, unlike the other woman I had been with. I could grab her hips, her waist, and everything else on the way to those pert breasts. They fit perfectly in my palm, I grazed against her nipple and her breath quickened, breaking the kiss. I let my mouth go to her neck, suckling her skin, inhaling her scent. She was fucking edible. And perfect.

  Damnit, I wanted her to be mine.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Emilia

  I felt stupid and embarrassed all at the same time. I was mostly infuriated with myself by the time he had me up against that wall.

  Tristan.

  My body had never reacted like this to anyone. Wanted someone so much that my panties were soaked just because his mouth was on mine, my body pressed to his. I used to think my boobs were too small, but he made them feel perfect; I never wanted him to let go. When his palm closed around me, warm and calloused, it felt safe. I have never wanted to be touched that way. Owned. Taken.

  Tristan.

  For so long I wanted to see him again. Know his name so I would at least have something to say when I touched myself thinking of him. And then I finally saw him again and I almost ruined it. I really thought he was engaged, and I was so angry. But to know that he wasn’t, that he was not tied to anyone, made me even more scared. I was so drawn to him, and I overthink stuff so much. Always thinking ahead, but I just needed to be in this moment. Letting him take me against a wall. Again.

  “Please,” as much as I enjoyed his lips on my neck, I needed them on mine.

  Before I met him, I thought I had no adventure in me, no spark. Now it was like I had a thing for sex in public places. We were in an outdoor alcove. But no one could see us, really.

  But they could hear us.

  My fingers fumbled with his belt, finally undoing his button and zipper. I saw his cock straining against hi
s briefs, I never saw it that night. But I felt it. How much it consumed me; how much it stretched me.

  I wanted to see his body. My hands flew to his shirt, undoing the buttons so quickly I thought I would snap them off. I all but ripped it open and raked my nails down his hard, chiseled chest as his mouth devoured mine again. I let my fingers draw through the hair on his chest, not too much, but just enough to remind me that he’s all man. I followed it down as it narrowed, leading to his cock. My tongue swirled around his, tasting the mint and cinnamon of his mouth. Like a latte.

  He wanted to see me too. He broke the kiss only to tug my shirt off. He pulled my bra down, making my breasts rise and my nipples poke towards him. He sucked until they were hardened peaks, so budded I thought they would fall off. They ached. My sex ached. I couldn’t play anymore.

  I tugged his lips to me with my hand, and as I deepened the kiss I used the other to pull him from his briefs. He groaned into my mouth, his hips bucking and his thighs trembling. I gripped his length; his base was so thick my fingers didn’t reach. He hissed against my mouth, his jaw went slack as I pulled upwards slowly, until I reached the moisture forming at his tip. I wanted to taste him, but I needed him inside of me more.

  “Fuck me, now. Please.” I whimpered. His throat drew with a growl.

  “Fuck, you’re so damned sexy.” I blushed at the compliment. At least I think I did, everything was so hot.

  He widened my legs, and pushed my jeans down, pulling them off of me so fast they made a whipping noise. He pushed my panties aside, his finger rolling against the folds of my sex. I shuddered, my legs quivering and my eyes lolling backwards as it brought a wave of desire right through my spine. It was almost paralyzing.

  I latched my legs around him, holding him tight. He inched against my sex, he is so big only the tip made me feel so full. His lips went back to mine, coaxing them apart as he entered me in one swift thrust. I wanted to cry out, but his lips silenced me, his tongue invading my mouth the way his cock invaded my core.