by Etan, Cher
“And you want me to help you decide?” Ava asked.
“No. I just want you to understand what I’m going through. There are people I have to speak to. Arrangements that have to be made. It might take some time. But I want you and I to be able to keep talking. I want to support you; go with you for your clinics…do you have a doctor yet?”
Ava hesitated, not wanting to seem irresponsible by explaining the method to her madness, “Er, I will have a doctor when school starts in a week or so.”
Tristan nodded, “Do you mind if I find you someone else? Maybe a more specialized doctor?”
“Well, I figured the campus doctors have a lot of experience with pregnant women…”
“Okay yeah, but I thought that you know, in case of anything; maybe you could get on my healthcare? It covers a really wide range of situations.”
Ava shook her head. “This is really not necessary,” she said causing Tristan to raise his hands in surrender.
“Whatever you say,” he said.
Ava nodded and they studied each other curiously.
“You’re glowing,” Tristan said.
“Oh?” Ava replied.
“Yeah,” Tristan whispered.
There was mustard smudged across Ava's face, a smear of goo and yellow. A shadow in her eyes said that the little girl had finally grown up. Tristan still wanted her, ached for her bone-deep. Two months without seeing her had not dispelled that curious…thing they had between them. Ava, all long legs and laid back attitude, hair still caught up untidily atop her head…it looked longer than it had before…no sign yet that she carried his seed within her – Tristan went a little crazy just looking at Ava.
This was not how Tristan had envisioned his life. His expectations had kept shifting from one moment to the next ever since he took that damned blood test. First, he was condemned to childlessness and then he’d met Ava. She was a bubble of unreality in his sea of depression; a port in the storm. He’d come back to his life ready to face the music and the future. To do everything he could to make this new reality work. And then here was Ava again, throwing another spanner in the works; and looking criminally gorgeous while she did so.
"Hey, Tristan." Ava's tongue flickered over her unsmiling lips, leaving them moist. "Since you’re kind of engaged to another woman you might want to refrain from looking at me like that."
Tristan shifted in his chair and took a moment before responding; if Ava wanted to act like nothing was happening here, then Tristan was gonna be damn well sure his own voice didn't betray him when he answered.
"Like Jensen said, nothing has been set in stone, and nobody’s gone down on one knee yet."
It's not quite enough. There's still a crackle of barely restrained fear there, reluctant desire and frustration. Ava didn’t respond to it, just lifted her shoulder in half a shrug and flashed a smirk as feeble and fake as their conversation.
"Sure, denial usually works really well in the long run." She said.
They went quiet again and Tristan tried to get a grip. He tried to stop the noise in his head, tried to ignore the sudden thrum of blood that told him to kissfuckbreak and then he let go. Because this was Ava and all Tristan's self-control and composure seemed to disappear when it came to her.
He sprung from his seat and his long-legged stride ate up the distance between them before Ava could even think of backing away. His hand curled about Ava's throat like it belonged there, her jugular pressed against the thin webbing of skin where thumb swept into finger.
Ava's breath caught but her eyes widened only for a second, honey brown and shining. Her hand came up to settle on Tristan's, her lips moved to speak and Tristan had enough. He grabbed Ava's wrist and yanked it behind his back, pushing until Ava stumbled into him. And before any stupid, worthless words can come tumbling out of Ava's pretty, pretty mouth, Tristan took it as his own and kissed past the excuses.
He bit his way past Ava's lips, sharp teeth worrying the full curve of them until Ava opened up for him. He didn't know if the desperate noises Ava was making were about pain or arousal, didn't care. All that mattered was that Ava gave it up to him, gave in. Surrendered, to this at least.
The kiss drove Ava backwards, until her back slammed gently into the wall and Tristan's mouth was still on hers, tongue fucking past her slack lips, hardness of his cock riding the angular line of Ava's hipbone, as if they could somehow be fucking if Tristan was just hungry enough.
Ava jerked her head to the side and dragged in breath. Tristan could feel her shivering and his grip on her tightened instinctively. He left Ava's mouth looking soft and dark and bruised. He wanted to fuck Ava's mouth, push her down onto her knees and grind Ava's face into his lap, until every time she breathed she'd be sucking Tristan deeper. He wanted to lick Ava's lips, feather them with delicate kisses that would beg for a second chance, better than any words Tristan could come up with.
"You didn’t call," Tristan whispered against Ava's temple.
He watched Ava's eyes flutter shut, coal-dark lashesm a smudge on her cheeks. He thought he’d put her behind him. He really had…but found that somewhere beneath his assumptions sat a little wound of hurt that she’d forgotten him so easily. That she hadn’t tried to get in touch.
"We agreed that it was just for the weekend."
"And that’s really all you wanted?"
“I wanted you,” Ava shrugged. “But having a guy like you for one weekend is really the best a girl can hope for if she doesn’t want her heart broken into teeny tiny pieces.”
“So all you wanted was some guy to 'wham bam thank you ma’am'. See you when you see me?”
Ava looked sharply at him. Then she tilted her face back towards Tristan, wordlessly offering her mouth again. An answer was almost more important to Tristan than more kissing but it'd been two months and he thought he'd need to be kissing Ava for another three years simply to get over it. He did not expect this at all.
He walked Ava backwards into his bedroom, mouth on her jaw and throat, hands moving reverently, desperately over her. The back of Ava's knees hit the bed and Tristan pushed her down. When he started undressing her, he was gentle, careful, but the more café au lait skin he uncovered, the rougher he became. Ava was so pliant, letting him take what he wanted. The ragdoll limpness was contradicted by the pin-pointedness of her nipples; standing to attention.
Pretending was useless. Tristan knew. Tristan knew he got under Ava's skin just like Ava got under his.
Tristan's knuckles skimmed the taut muscle of Ava's lower belly and instantly, Ava's legs fell open for him. Ava closed her eyes, turned her face away. A rosy glow crept along her cheekbones as if she was embarrassed. She probably was. This had to be terribly conflicting for her; especially after everything she’d just heard. Tristan wondered why he wasn’t more conflicted himself.
"Just relax and lay back," Tristan whispered. He worked slick fingers into Ava, working her open for his cock. He'd be more gentle but it'd been two months. If Ava ended up being fucked sore she could blame it on all the delayed gratification. "There hasn’t been anyone else since you," he felt the need to point out.
Ava made a short, hacking sound that Tristan chose to interpret as laughter. It cut off into swearing and panting for breath as Tristan lifted her body and dragged her down the bed and onto his cock.
It was that first moment of penetration, of sinking into Ava, that second when the head of Tristan's cock pushed past all resistance and into her, that gave Tristan a rush of drunken madness. He discovered that he loved to spread the swollen lips of Ava's entrance apart and watch her stretch around him. He thought he could spend hours just watching his cock slide back and forth into Ava's swollen, glistening hole.
But two months and Tristan couldn’t give himself time to enjoy it. Can only take, take, take. He fucked up into Ava like he meant to break her. Ava scrabbled at the sheet for something to brace against as Tristan's thrusts slammed her back up the bed.
"You stayed away," Tristan
mumbled into her ear. He pressed down into Ava, spine curving as he worked his hips fiercely because he needed to be deeper inside Ava, needed to make sure it'd still be hurting should Ava even think of walking away. "Where did you go? I looked for you. Were you hiding from me? Haven't I only ever been good to you?"
His teeth grazed over the delicate skin at Ava's throat, tongue flickering briefly over her pulse, before his teeth sunk in. Ava thrashed beneath him, her fingers grabbing at the back of Tristan's neck like she wanted to pull him off. The sounds she made were definitely pained but Tristan bit harder, gnawed at the flesh until Ava went limp.
Tristan pounded his cock into her, his hands curling about the sharpness of Ava's hips and yanking her up to meet his thrusts. He bit down again, into the hickey that was already forming. He could taste Ava in his mouth, feel the two-month old fear easing as he fucked it away in Ava. His body has felt tight with tension since Ava disappeared but the longer he had his cock in Ava, the more it melted away.
By the time he came, he felt safe and happy again. He groaned against Ava's mouth as he lazily rode out the end of it. His cock slipped free with an obscene, moist sound and he paused to watch his come trickle from Ava's hole. Trailing his fingertip over the flushed, hot skin he scooped up his come so he could push it back inside Ava. Where it belonged. Two months.
Ava moaned as Tristan's fingertip prodded at her abused hole and she tried to shift away, which meant Tristan instantly had to be crawling over her, pinning her down with his body. He kissed Ava languidly as his hand closed over her breast and gently kneaded it. Ava lay in exhausted repletion.
"Did I break you, baby?" Tristan asked, smile tugging at his lips.
Ava's eyes were hooded, blissed-out, but they tracked to Tristan at his question. Ava was how Tristan liked her best, freshly fucked, bruised and boneless. Here. He licked at Ava's lips until he could slip his tongue into her mouth once more.
"Yeah, you did. For a while," Ava said, when Tristan let her have her mouth back. "I got it together."
She might have said more but Tristan's hand was insistent at her breasts and she pushed up into his touch, hips jerking, needy. Her face crumpled into some kind of anguish that Tristan didn't understand as she looked at him. Her lip caught between her teeth and the dim light in the room caught on the tears in Ava's eyes. Even as Tristan was staring at her, stricken, Ava was stretching up to be kissed again. They didn't talk again that night. They slept for a few hours, fucked again just before the sun came up in the sky.
Chapter 8
Tristan walked into the kitchen to find Jensen making coffee. His assistant cast him a meaningful glance as he prepared a plate of pastries.
“Don’t judge me,” Tristan said as he grabbed a mug from the cabinet.
“I said nothing,” Jensen replied neutrally.
“Not with your mouth,” Tristan complained.
“So…you’re going to make up imaginary comments, ascribe them to me then snark at me for them?” Jensen deadpanned.
“Pretty much, yeah,” Tristan replied. “After all, I know what you’re thinking.”
“What am I thinking?”
“You’re thinking that I’m complicating my life unnecessarily and that Ava is probably using me for her own ends.”
“You said it, not me,” Jensen replied. Tristan was silent, pouring his coffee as if it demanded all his attention. They heard footsteps shuffling along the hall.
Ava looked pale that morning, like the last thing she wanted to do was drag herself away from bed. She slumped over the kitchen counter and picked at the pastries Jensen had left in the basket and disappeared somewhere.
Tristan eyed her worriedly. "You kinda look like shit."
Ava shook her head and yawned. "Nah, m'just tired. Need more coffee. Good morning to you too."
His driver honked his horn from outside, but Tristan lingered. Ava would be picked up a little later, and dropped off wherever she wanted because Tristan still had to show up for work. For some reason, he didn't really want to leave Ava while she looked so crappy, which was stupid. "You should eat breakfast, at least. Most important meal, yadda yadda."
Ava pulled a reluctant face and poked at her pastry, and Tristan frowned. "You should--"
The driver honked again, and Ava cracked a smile. "Go to work, Mom, I'm fine. Fresh air'll wake me up. Go."
Only slightly reassured, Tristan left, turning back as he reached the door; but Ava took a big meaningful bite of toast, eyebrows raised, so he grinned and went.
*****
Ava went home to find Bob eroding the living room carpet, Joe Black in his arms.
“Where have you been?” he demanded as soon as she was in the door. Ava opened her mouth and then closed it. She had told Bob where she was going because she’d been sweating bullets and needed a support group of one to get her through her nerves. As she left she’d texted him to call the cops if she wasn’t back by midnight. It was a bit of dramatic joking but apparently Bob had taken her semi-seriously. Well…considering the police weren’t around probably not so seriously but still, obviously he had been worried.
“Sorry; it turned into a sleep over,” she said.
“Really? How dumb can you get Ava?”
“Hey, I got pregnant by a guy I’d just met at a rock festival. That’s how dumb I am.”
“Touché,” Bob said. “But seriously what were you thinking?”
Ava shrugged, “We were talking and then…we weren’t. I don’t know what to tell ya.”
“So? When you weren’t busy doing it, did you come to some sort of agreement about the baby? Is he going to step up?”
Bob was worried about her and the baby. He knew she really couldn’t afford to have one. She had no income and how would she find a job while dragging a newborn about? She definitely needed support and he was worried he might be the one saddled with a new mother and her child.
“Yeah, he said he wanted to be involved. He even said he was ready to pick up my medical bills so I don’t think you have anything to worry about Bob,” she held out her hands for Joe Black. He hopped gracefully from Bob’s hands to hers. He was really getting big now. Almost heavy. That could have something to do with all the food he was given. Spoiled rotten didn’t begin to describe him.
“Well, I’m just gonna go brush Joe Black’s hair.” She said heading to her room.
“Yeah well, I have to get to the LGBT center anyway. I’m teaching a class on make up,” Bob informed her.
“Great. Enjoy,” she replied waving at him.
*****
“Mama, I need to speak to you,” he said walking into her office.
“Can it wait? I’m waiting on a call from Japan,” his mother said her voice absentminded.
“It really can’t mother,” Tristan said settling into a chair and rearranging his jacket as he did so. His mother sat back in her own chair, crossed her legs and lifted her eyebrows.
“I got a girl pregnant,” he said trying his best to suppress any hint of excitement from his voice.
“From the use of ‘a’ girl you don’t mean Savannah,” Cleo Carrington said dryly.
“No. Unfortunately it's not Savannah, however she is definitely pregnant and the child is mine. I would say that is cause for celebration.”
“Who is this girl?” his mother asked going at once to the pertinent issue. The real question she was asking was whether Ava had sufficient pedigree.
“She’s a music engineering student at Berklee. We met at a music festival and hit it off right away.”
“I see. Who is she? Who are her people?”
Tristan took a deep breath, “You don’t know her people. She’s an orphan; her mother died a while back and her father left when she was very young. She’s basically on her own.”
Cleo nodded, “I see. So she’s a nobody. Are you sure-“
“I’m sure. The baby is mine mama,” he cut in before she could besmirch Ava’s character with uncomfortable questions. Even though Ava wasn
’t here now didn’t mean that Tristan was ready to hear trash talk about her.
“So what do you plan to do?” she asked as she folded her hands beneath her chin and fixed Tristan with a no nonsense glance.
Tristan closed his eyes and prayed for strength, “I think that in the circumstances, it would be best if I married her.”
“I beg pardon?” Cleo said face paling.
“She is pregnant mother. This may well be the only child I ever have. Would you agree that it would be well to have it be legitimate?”
Cleo was silent. She could see his point but she’d had this idea of the merging of the Carrington-Leicester empires for so long. It was the most strategic long term move to be made. But Tristan was right; it meant nothing without an heir and he might not have another. The question remained though, was this pregnancy really his and why was he so sure that this woman was not pulling a fast one on him? In his own admission, she was a nobody, she had nothing. It would not take much to impregnate oneself and present Tristan with a fait accompli of his most dearest wish.
“I want to meet her first,” Cleo declared. “Let her come home for dinner this evening.”
Tristan frowned like he wanted to protest but after a slight hesitation he simply nodded his head and acquiesced.
“Meanwhile, what is her full name?” Cleo asked pencil in hand, ready to write.
“Ava Richards,” Tristan said as if he was pulling teeth. He knew his mother would have her checked out; he’d done the same after she’d come to the benefit. He wasn’t a fool. There had been nothing to find. But if anyone could make a mountain out of a molehill, it was his mother. Still, there was nothing to be done but to subject Ava to her. If they were to be married then she’d have to get along with his mother anyway. It occurred to Tristan then that he hadn’t even asked her yet.
*****
Cleo Carrington’s driver came for her promptly at six. He informed her that she would meet Tristan at the Carrington mansion. Ava was nervous but not to the point of paralysis. It made sense that Tristan’s mother wanted to meet her. Especially in light of what Tristan had told her. She was carrying what was possibly this woman’s only grandchild. Of course she would want to know its mother. Ava could handle this fine.
