by ANDREA SMITH
(Oh hell, no!)
I willed my adrenaline to hit top speed. I had once chance at this. One, small window of opportunity was all that I had to make sure that the brick clutched in my trembling hand connected with this bastard’s skull.
I watched beneath nearly closed eyes as Nick scooted back so that he could get the ragged-edge of the broom stick aligned with my crotch before he shoved it in full force.
I counted to three in my head. Just as Nick clasped his hand firmly around the stick to guide his missile of torture into me, I pulled my hand from beneath the dumpster and slammed the brick against the side of Nick’s head.
He dropped the stick and screamed in pain. I hadn’t knocked him out; I had thoroughly pissed him off. The brick was still in my hand. I raised it again to take another crack at his skull.
Just then there were voices in the alley. Someone hollered my name. It was Tristan. Nick was still cursing me, and trying to hold me down. I screamed for Tristan. In a flash, I felt the weight of Nick being lifted off of me. Jo Jo was there beside me, helping me to sit up.
Tristan had Nick in his grasp. I watched as he flung him down onto the pavement. Tristan was enraged as he proceeded to beat the hell out of him. He was slamming his head into the pavement again and again. Nick was kicking and flailing his arms about, but he never got a clean shot at Tristan. Not once.
Finally, I found my voice.
“Tristan, stop! I don’t want you going to prison for that sick son-of-a-bitch, please!”
Tristan stopped. He looked over at me and I saw the fury in his eyes slowly calm. He got off of Nick and pulled him up, flinging him aside like a rag doll as he came over to see about me.
By this time, a small crowd had gathered in the alley. Jo Jo had called the police; one of the bouncers came out and was given the responsibility of detaining Nick until the authorities arrived. Tristan gathered me up in his arms and took me inside the club. He wrapped his coat around me. I buried my face in his neck. I didn’t want anyone to see me cry.
CHAPTER 25
It had been a week since the altercation with Nick. He was in jail for several felony counts. His arraignment had taken place. He had a public defender assigned to the case.
My bruises were healing up nicely; luckily, he hadn’t broken my jaw. My family now knew the specifics of not only what happened a week ago, but what had happened twelve years ago. My mother had not taken it well. She said she felt ignorant and guilty.
“Nick fooled a lot of people, Mom.”
“He never fooled your father,” she confessed to me, “He always told me that there was something inside of Nick that was evil. That was why your father was so happy when you left him and moved out of state. Even though we didn’t see you much, your father said he knew you were better off far away from Nick. I guess I just assumed your father was worried you two would reconcile. I never dreamed he thought Nick could be a physical threat to you.”
“Oh Mom. I feel guilty too, you know? I should have told you and Daddy what happened back then.”
“Water under the bridge, Gina Marie. Water under the bridge.”
“How is Leo doing with all of this?”
“Frankly, Gina, I think perhaps Leo knew Nick had problems. He hasn’t admitted as much, it is just a suspicion on my part. Of course, he wants justice done. Leo would never condone that type of behavior.”
Mom and I agreed to start getting the wedding preparations going. Our wedding date was six months off, so according to her, we were behind schedule. She had convinced me to get married in the Catholic Church I had attended growing up, and the one that they still attended. Tristan was fine with it.
Tylar stopped over for lunch mid-week. She had been calling me daily since ‘the incident’ as Tristan and I had started calling it. Tylar bested my mother as a worrywart.
Preston was in the living room playing with Reese; Tylar and I were sitting at the dining room table where we could both talk and keep an eye on them.
“Well Tylar, last year was one crazy year, don’t you think?”
“You won’t get any argument out of me on that one, Gina.”
“We ought to write a book,” I said, laughing.
“A book?” she asked, “As in just one?”
“Yeah,” I replied, “I think it would make good reading.”
“Gina, it would have to be more like three books, I think. It would be impossible to cram all of that into just one book.”
“Ah hell, no one would believe it anyway,” I sighed.
“So, what’s in our crystal ball for this year?”
“Well,” she said, trying to use an accent and sound like a Hungarian gypsy “Let me see. I see a wedding this year. I see this wedding right now in my crystal ball. It appears to be a June wedding; the sun is shining and I see the beautiful bride and her very handsome groom walking down the aisle of a church. Wait a minute; it’s coming in much clearer now. Why yes, it is the wedding of my BFF. I see more. Shall I continue?”
“Oh yes, please do Madam Zelda,” I joked, refilling our ice tea glasses. Tylar was in an unusually playful mood today.
“I see your matron of honor walking down the aisle before you. Oh, the gown, she is so lovely! What’s this? Your matron of honor has gained some weight in the tummy, it seems. Only the tummy. How strange.”
“What?” I shrieked. “Are you serious, Ty? When?”
“I’m due right around Trey’s birthday.”
“What did you do, girlfriend; help yourself to some coma sex?”
“No, Gina,” she laughed. “It was the cruise. I distinctly remember Trey getting in the mood whenever I put one of those skimpy bikinis on that someone insisted I buy before the trip.”
“I see; so the bikinis I selected are the reason for this good news, huh?”
“Well that, along with the fact that my Depo-Provera shot had worn off.”
“I am really happy for you, Ty. How are you feeling?”
“I feel good, Gina. I feel like I did when I was pregnant with Preston. I hope that is a good sign.”
“Hey girlfriend; everything will be fine this time. Please don’t let yourself worry unnecessarily.”
“You sound like Trey, Gina. Anyhow, you haven’t asked Madame Zelda about what else is in store.
“Oh right, right. Tell me more, Madam Zelda.”
Tylar loved this fortune teller routine we had just concocted.
“Madame Zelda sees another diamond ring being placed on a slender finger. The man is very handsome; he bears a resemblance to George Clooney. The woman is very pretty and sweet; her hair is dark blond, her eyes are green.”
“Really? Your dad is going to ask Brenda to marry him?”
“Uh huh,” she said, pleased as punch. “He is asking her on Valentine’s Day to get engaged. I think he wants to wait a year or two before they get married though. My dad doesn’t jump into anything that quickly. Besides, he wants to retire from the bench before they wed so that he can totally devote himself to her. Isn’t that romantic?”
“Yeah, absolutely,” I said.
“Hey, what’s wrong Gina? You look like someone let the air out of your ‘happy’ balloon.”
“Oh, it’s nothing, Ty.”
She gave me her look that said she wasn’t going to drop it.
“It’s just the mention of Valentine’s Day; it brings back some memories now more than ever.”
“I’m sorry, Gina. I didn’t think.”
“No, no reason to apologize. It will fade eventually.”
I had confided some of my story relating Nick to Tylar, but not everything. Tristan was the only one who knew everything.
“Hey Gina,” she said, “Can I ask you something and you promise that you won’t get mad or take it the wrong way?”
“Sure,” I replied with a shrug.
“Why is it that you never shared with me any of that stuff about Nick? I mean, to be honest, as your BFF, it really kind of hurt that you hadn’t at least told me
something before now. I mean Tristan knew, right?”
“Yes, Ty. I told Tristan about it after I returned from Hoboken. He was the first person that I ever told. I had put it from my mind for a long time; it was not a memory that I wanted to revisit.”
“Didn’t you trust me with your secret, Gina?”
“It wasn’t that at all, Tylar. What happened with Nick had no impact on our friendship whatsoever. I was finding that it was affecting my relationship with Tristan, and my ability to accept his love. He sensed something was there; he knew I had issues with intimacy. It was what he needed to know.”
“I guess,” she said, somehow not convinced that there hadn’t been a breach in the unwritten rules of best friend obligations.
“Tylar,” I said to her, “You are my best friend; you always will be no matter what. Tristan is my soul-mate. Sometimes there are things that you share only with your soul-mate. I’m sure if you stop and think about it, you have those same types of secrets from me, but you have likely shared them with Trey.”
“I think I understand, Gina.”
“Hey,” I said, suddenly noticing that Tylar had not bitched about Amber for quite some time, “Has Amber finally given up on stalking Trey? Did you ever find out for sure that she cancelled his credit cards?”
“Didn’t I tell you?”
“Apparently not.”
“Well, she left the firm. They asked for her resignation and in turn, she got a severance package. She also had to sign some sort of a legal contract that she was leaving on her own volition and the firm wasn’t liable in any way for her departure.”
“Are you shitting me? When did this happen?”
“Well I found out about it after Trey regained consciousness. Tonya visited him in the hospital right before he was released and brought the good news.”
“Hmm,” I said, “I wonder what that was all about.”
“Apparently Amber was fooling around with Mr. Pierce and then attempted to blackmail him with some sort of photos. I guess the partners decided to call her bluff. At any rate, she got some cash and they got her out of there.”
“Well, it sounds as if you and Trey got a belated Christmas present from Santa.”
“Yes,” she replied, smiling, “I couldn’t have asked for a better present, either.
(You’re welcome, my friend.)
I had Reese bathed and down for the night by the time Tristan arrived home.
“Hey sweet baby,” he said, coming over to me and pulling me into his strong arms.
“Hey Tristan,” I said softly, “I missed you today. When can I go back to work?”
He pulled me down next to him on the sofa.
“I want to talk to you about something, Gina.”
(Uh oh. Please let this be good news for a change!)
“How would you feel about selling the club and doing something else?”
“I guess it would depend upon what that something else is.”
“The winery in Bristol is doing very well, as you know. I have an opportunity to buy sixty more acres and expand. Not only that, but on some of that acreage I would like to build a home for you and Reese. I know that we haven’t discussed it at length, but I think we both want the same things for Reese, and how ever many more children we have. I don’t think we want to raise them in a big city, necessarily.”
“Oh Tristan, I love the idea of having a home in the country, but I mean, what will we do? You already have a staff running the winery.”
“We could run it,” he said, “You could help oversee the expansion, do the hiring and manage the day to day operations. I could handle the marketing and distribution.”
I didn’t have to think about it for very long. The plan appealed to me in every aspect.
“I love the idea, Tristan. Let’s do it.”
I fell asleep in our bed while Tristan had gone to check on Reese. He had awoken crying as soon as we had hit the sheets, which was not usual for him. Tristan got him settled back down. I felt him climb back into our bed; my eyes fluttered open as he pulled me to him.
“Now, where were we before Reese demanded my attention?” he asked in his incredibly sexy voice.
“I believe you were giving my breasts some well-deserved attention.”
“Oh yes,” he said, rolling over to straddle me. His lips and tongue found my nipples as he traced the areola with his tongue and pressed soft, warm kisses all over them. He took a nipple into his mouth, and sucked gently on it, sending a tingly sensation all through my body. He moved to my other breast, teasing the nipple with his tongue before taking it fully into his mouth and suckling.
Tristan took his time moving southward once he had finished with my breasts. His tongue traced a hot trail down my belly, stopping to linger awhile on my belly button. His fingers were softly plying the folds of my sex; I was wet for him as usual.
“Umm,” he moaned, huskily, “I want to taste you now.” His mouth moved downward to capture my sex. His magic, talented tongue washed over my clitoris, causing me to jump at the intensity of the shockwaves of pleasure it left behind.
“You taste so good, sweet baby,” he whispered to me, continuing to flick his tongue over the folds of my sex, lingering in all of the places that were ultra-sensitive. My hips were moving, gyrating at the pleasure that he gave me; I moaned softly, as his lips kissed me down there, again and again. His tongue was now up inside of me, exploring my core; his fingers continued to massage and play along the base of my clitoris. My legs were trembling from the electrical pulses I felt from his touch.
“Tristan, baby,” I moaned, pulling his head up with my hands. Our eyes met and he knew. He knew what I wanted; he knew what I needed.
His knee brushed my legs apart; he lowered himself into me, giving one strong thrust as he buried himself deep within me. His strong arms wrapped around me and pulled me closely to him. I could feel his heartbeat as his hips rolled around, up and down, making sure that his beautiful cock touched all those special places inside of me.
“That’s my Gina,” he breathed, his lips finding mine.
His thrusting was magical; it was perfect. My Tristan was a perfect lover, my perfect man. I wrapped my legs around his hips, locking my feet together as his momentum gradually increased. I answered his thrusts with my own, moaning in pleasure, saying his name over and over again against his lips and tongue.
“I love you, Tristan. I love every part of you.”
“Oh Gina,” he rasped, his voice was now thick with emotion, “I love you, baby. You are my life.”
Our momentum increased as we devoured each other with our mouths. We had both reached the brink of orgasm; Tristan lowered his lips and gently spread soft kisses over the column of my neck. It was the push I needed to send me spiraling over the edge into my orgasmic bliss. Tristan was right there with me, riding the tide of climatic ecstasy.
He moaned in glorious passion; I mewled like a contented cat as my climax enveloped me in total and unadulterated pleasure. I felt Tristan’s cock throbbing and emptying his seed fully inside of me.
Afterwards, our sweat soaked bodies clung to one another as our heart rates and breathing returned to normal. Tristan pulled me over to him so that my head was resting on his chest, right near his heart.
I had always loved the aftermath of our fucking, or as we had most recently been referring to it as, ‘our lovemaking.’ I could see that Tristan and I had morphed into this traditional, loving couple. I had no problem with that at all. I liked it. I liked the softness that had blossomed in me as a result of Tristan’s love for me, and my love for Tristan. His attentiveness to me had given me a feeling of safeness and security. I would never be the ‘helpless’ female, but then again, Tristan would not have tolerated being with a helpless female type.
I ran my fingers over my fiancé’s damp chest hair, loving the smell of our sex that still permeated the air.
“What are you thinking, Gina?”
“I’m just reveling in the afterglo
w, I guess,” I laughed.
“I do love you so much, Gina. Last week when all of that happened, I came close to killing that son-of-a-bitch. I mean, that was the first time ever in my life I actually believe that I could have taken a human life.”
“What stopped you?”
“What do you think, Gina? It was you. It was what you said about me going to prison. It was a no brainer. It made sense when you said that to me. As much as I wanted to kill that sick son-of-a-bitch, I knew that I would be the one paying the price if he was dead. That price would have been you, who I adore; it would have been Reese, who I adore; and it would have been Sarah and Hannah.”
“Who in the hell are Sarah and Hannah?” I asked, raising myself up to look into his eyes.
He smiled, his beautiful green eyes deeper now, post-orgasm. I loved the little crinkles he got in the corner of his eyes when he smiled or laugh. I referred to them as his laugh lines. They were gorgeous.
“Sarah and Hannah, you know.”
He obviously was playing with me because I had no clue; my face clearly revealed to him that I was clueless.
“Our daughters that haven’t been conceived yet,” he said, his thumb brushing my cheek gently. “I want as many children as you are willing to carry,” he said, kissing me again. “You are my present and future.”
“Why girls?” I asked
“Don’t get me wrong, Gina, I am so glad that our first born was a boy. We need for our girls to have an older brother that will watch out for them. I just love those names for girls and want to make sure that we have at least two in order to use them. After that we can have as many boys as you want.”
“My God, Tristan, I’m 31 years old.”
“That’s young, babe. I’m going to be 43 in October. Still, I feel we’re good for at least three more babies.”
“Whatever you say, Tristan,” I laughed. “I know that I am going to love making them.”
