Layers Peeled

by Lacey Silks

  “You’re tired,” he said.

  “It’s the hormones. One moment I feel like I could sleep for twelve hours, and then other times when I look at you all I want to do is f...” My hand flew up to my mouth.

  Wow, shut up, Allie!

  “Do what?” Tristan didn’t miss a beat. The lust in his voice tickled my ears, and I pressed my knees together.

  “Perhaps we should get you home so you can sleep?”

  When had his definition of sleep changed to fuck? The way he said it, I was certain that’s what he meant. He shifted his gaze to the front window of the car.

  I lifted my head, wondering when Tristan would drive again. He reached forward and smudged away the fogged windows. I must have been sleeping for a while and didn’t expect him to stop until we got to his underground garage; yet here we were, parked on a paved driveway, outside a mansion that resembled a Victorian-style country home. I knew we couldn’t be that far away from the city. Where were we?

  But Tristan had already opened my door.

  “You had plans I wasn’t aware of?” I asked, wondering whether we were stopping by one of his acquaintances or for a quick business meeting before we went to his downtown apartment.

  “You could say that.” He took me under my arm and led me toward the double door entrance. A white Bentley was parked closer to the three-door garage. Whomever owned this place at least had the same taste in expensive cars. The smell of the ocean filled me and I heard waves gently crash in the distance. Around us the property was bordered by trees and shrubs, without another house in sight.

  What a peaceful location, I thought.

  It had to be a lawyer or at least some sort of a financial mogul living here.

  Tristan took a deep breath in, and instead of ringing the door bell like I expected him to, he lifted my hand and flattened my thumb against a keypad.

  “Welcome home, Ms. Green,” the intercom speaker said in a soft voice.

  “Tristan, what is this?” I felt my jaw drop to the concrete steps.

  “Our home.” He pushed the door open and scooped me up under my knees, ever so gently, to not press against the bandaged cut.

  “What are you doing?” I gasped, feeling myself lean against his chest.

  Without saying a word, he carried me over the threshold as if we were married. Then he pressed his lips to mine, stealing a passionate kiss, and whispered into my mouth, “I’ve always wanted to do this.”

  My arms wrapped around his neck, bringing his lips back to mine. Had he just bought us a house? I forced the tears of happiness back. I didn’t want to cry now, but how could I not? This was unbelievable—he was unbelievable. Feeling my tongue touch his lips, begging to be welcomed further down into his mouth, drove me insane and was better than chocolate cake (which I craved now as well). This new pregnancy heat wave I was riding was out of this world. I couldn’t get enough of him. Tristan opened his mouth and deepened our kiss; his fingers digging into my skin touched my core. I held onto his face, losing myself in the warmth of his lips. Every single time Tristan kissed me felt like our first time. I could stay like this forever, but my bladder disagreed, and I slowly slid out of his arms down to the wooden floor. The faint sound of dripping water tortured me, but I had no time to find its source.

  “Bathroom?” I stepped from one foot to another. He pointed to the right and I rushed into the powder room, which I’d have to revisit later to truly appreciate its size. After a quick relief, I stepped back into the beautiful foyer in awe. A chandelier hung above, composed of an intricate web of deer antlers, dangling from underneath the peaked roof of exposed beams. My gaze followed the length of the wood toward a railing. Upstairs, beyond a balustrade, was a sitting area complete with plush couches and shelves stacked with books. I could only see a bit of it from where we stood, and I couldn’t wait to go exploring. In front of me, a waterfall feature trailed a steady stream, and I understood what had triggered my bladder earlier. The whole entrance was encased in a fresh bouquet of smells. A floral aroma mixed with wood and an ocean breeze floated through the room. I noted a fall flower arrangement on the side table, right below a mirror. Brown and orange tones stood out all around us as if the place had been specifically decorated for the queen of fall.

  “So when you say it’s our home, what does that exactly mean?” I asked pacing cautiously across the wooden floor, trying to comprehend what Tristan had just said while examining the luxuries around me. This couldn’t be true. Who in their right mind just buys a house like this?

  He wrapped his arms around me from behind, saying, “It means it’s our home. You and me, and Puss.”

  “Is this the secret Emma’s been keeping?” I remembered his sister mentioning something about secrets and moving closer to home when I was at the hospital, but my mind had been preoccupied back then with the news of my pregnancy and trying to figure out where I fit into Tristan’s life. No, this couldn’t be true. Things this wonderful were meant to happen only in movies.

  “I don’t deserve this,” I whispered, not realizing I’d voiced my thoughts. My gaze strayed from left to right and up and down trying to take it all in. How big was this place?

  “Allie, please. I really want you to feel like it’s your home, our home.”

  And he meant it, too.

  “Are we close to your parents? I heard the ocean.”

  “Yes. I wanted to surprise you. And it’s a five minute walk to the Cross’s. Right next to Julian’s house.”

  I never knew Julian lived beside his parents; but then again, I’d never asked.

  “When did you do this?”

  “When you were in the hospital. Right after the shooting. I’d been waiting for this property for a while, and it came on the market in perfect time.”

  “Before you found out about Puss?”

  “Yes,” He turned me around to face him, confusion filling his eyes. “Did you think I only wanted to move in with you because of the baby?”

  My heart screamed no, but Tristan was right. I’d never admitted just how much I wanted Tristan to want me only. I should have never doubted his intentions, thinking he cared for me because of the baby. I needed him to want me for me, not just for the baby. And he had. But deep inside, I still wasn’t sure of his exact feelings. As evident as his care and passion were, my heart chose to hold on to doubt.

  Could Tristan really want me? And if so, how come I felt so confused? I wanted to be with Tristan like nothing else in my life. I needed him and me and our little bundle of joy to be a family. I’d loved our Betty or Barney or Puss the moment I’d found out I was pregnant. And I loved their daddy too.

  I felt blood drain from my face and stepped away, fumbling with the bouquet of flowers.

  Oh, my God! I loved Tristan. Could someone please paste a ‘Duh’ sign on my forehead? Of course I loved him. And now I just couldn’t get any other word out of me.

  CHAPTER 6

  “Are you all right?” Tristan asked from behind me.

  “Aha,” I nodded. Stay calm. Just breathe, and don’t look like a deer caught in the headlights. Was there any way I could distract him?

  “Allie, I really want this to work. Whatever is happening between us feels good, and I want to give it a fair try, for us and for our baby.”

  “Me too. I... I want us to be happy.” Yet that didn’t exactly express what I wanted to say. Why did the words feel like they were stuck in my throat? Because I had the old-fashioned idea that a man should be the first one to say the ‘L’ word. The women’s movement would be frowning at me at this moment, but I didn’t care. Nothing would change my mind about this. I needed to hear Tristan loved me too... and he had to say it first.

  “And you look so fucking beautiful when you’re confused.”

  There was that primitive growl that always signaled his need. It wouldn’t be now. Tristan wouldn’t tell me he loved me just yet. He still had many layers of scars on his heart: ones that needed to be peeled off before he could admit w
hether his emotions soared beyond lust and desire.

  He seemed to float toward me without moving his feet. All of my fatigue disappeared in an instant and nothing else in the world mattered except for that tight knot in my belly begging to be released. And instead of sharing with him how I felt, I distracted him.

  I narrowed my brows and widened my eyes, making my lost puppy face. “Like this?”

  “Perfect.” His hands rested on my hips and I gravitated toward him like a moth to a lamp. My heart pounded. He let my body rest against his and swooshed my hair behind my ears. I loved it when he overwhelmed me with that beautiful physique and that smell of his. A hint of musk and Old Spice blended into one swirled around my nose, and I breathed him in deeper. That was a mistake; or perhaps not. This feeling that consumed me in titanic waves was a good one. I could never get enough of it—of him. Now I hoped Tristan would lead the way to christen every single room in this house.

  “Are you going to show me around?” I gripped his arms as my body demanded to be closer to him.

  “Sure, let’s start with the bedroom.” Another deep yearn rolled off his tongue. The spark in his eyes ignited a need I recognized, and the sexy dimple in his chin deepened.

  Tristan’s hands took my hips and then slid to my lower back.

  “I love it when you wear dresses.” His lusty whisper confirmed my suspicion. We’d definitely be christening one room in seconds.

  And in my defense, a dress was much easier than pants to put on now with all the bandages.

  He crunched up the hem of my dress until a cool breeze assaulted my exposed behind. I felt my skin tighten. His warm touch on my ass, fingers caressing the fleshier part, made me press into his hands. I closed my eyes and bit my lip. Everything inside me mixed with an overwhelming hunger I could no longer contain. It seemed all my senses had been intensified once again, and the exhaustion I’d felt before turned into a pool of lust in my panties. His hands drew further down and he squeezed my ass just underneath my laced panties, his fingers digging deep into my flesh, slightly spreading my cheeks. One hand came up to my cleavage and unzipped the top of my dress, exposing my bra. He snuck his finger underneath the lace, grazing my nipple. I flinched at the touch. My breasts had grown more sensitive in the last few weeks. He lowered his mouth to the hardened nub and slid his tongue around it. The way he tantalized the rim, hell, he may as well have sucked on it. What was happening to me? How could this feel so good so quickly?

  A whimper escaped my mouth, and before I knew it he was down on his knees, his hands sliding up my dress and removing my panties. My leg, the damaged one, flew over his shoulder. I couldn’t deny it felt better to rest it there, for various reasons, but I couldn’t quite concentrate on what those reasons were. Tristan kissed along my inner thigh, treating my skin like he hadn’t seen it in years. Higher and higher, his mouth neared my pussy, and I couldn’t wait any longer. I rested one of my hands on his head, guiding him where I needed him to go. When his breath caressed my swollen folds and I felt the faint pull of his tongue along my slit, I nearly jumped. I braced my healthy arm against the frame of a doorway leading into the dining room, wishing I could lie down, but I had no time. Tristan’s tongue slid in between one fold then another, coming to rest on my sensitive nub. Oh, how much I’d missed his expert mouth! He sucked on my clit, flicking his tongue over and over again. But I needed more. I needed to feel him stretching me to my full width. And right at the thought, his fingers slid inside me, pulsing in a rhythm that weaved through my body, answering my unspoken calls.

  My hands found his head and I braced against him. Letting my fingers get lost in his soft strands, I pushed myself deeper into his mouth. And there was only one thing on my mind: that wonderfully hard tongue and the increasing swelling of pure lust between my legs. The slickness of his movements and the concentrated suction and sounds of his licking had me circling my hips. Every time he flicked his tongue, a new bundle of arousal consumed me, collecting in the back of my mind, bringing me closer to the inevitable.

  “I’m so close.” I heard the words come out of my mouth and felt Tristan do something different inside me with his fingers that zapped through my whole body harder than lighting could have. For a moment I thought that was what it would be like to feel the first shock of an electric toaster dipped in a tub of water I was bathing in, because everything inside me shut down and then released my energy in the form of a pant I couldn’t contain, spreading through me like that current of electricity. I could smell my orgasm fill the air and almost taste it on the tip of my tongue. Tristan nourished it until my shakes slowed, and the torch that burned deep in my belly died down to a glowing ember. And I, I was completely toasted.

  “You are amazing.” My heavy breaths calmed at the pace of a snail. Tristan held me against his chest. It felt like hours had passed before I could open my eyes.

  The smell of garlic and a delicious stew wafted around me, and I realized how hungry I was; this time for real food. That’s when I heard a few dishes clattering in the kitchen.

  “Is someone here?” I asked, looking up in a panic.

  “Yes.” He held a devilish grin on his face.

  I yanked my panties up and lowered my dress.

  “You didn’t think I’d forget about Thanksgiving, did you?”

  I searched the aroma for baking turkey and found it. My taste buds now overpowered everything else.

  “I can’t remember the last time I celebrated Thanksgiving, so yes, I chose to forget,” I said through my teeth, half upset with Tristan for letting me climax with someone else in the house, the other half too distracted with the delicious smells intensifying every second.

  “Well, now, with a growing family, I have to take care of you two. I can’t let mommy starve.”

  I laughed. “I’m not exactly starving, but I am hungry. And I can’t believe you just did that to me with a stranger in the house.” I punched him playfully on his arm.

  He kissed the tip of my nose in response. “Olivier is hardly a stranger. I was going to show you around first, but having you in my mouth was a much better plan. And if you’d like a heads up in the future, here it is: the family is due to be here...”

  The door bell rang. He adjusted my bra, cupping my breasts once more and giving me an extra squeeze for good measure, and zipped up my dress.

  “...right now.” The smug on his face as he rushed to the powder room to wash his hands was priceless. “Doesn’t it make you feel naughty knowing someone could have walked in on us?”

  “Tristan! Don’t do that again.” But inside I couldn’t contain the quickened pulse. I wasn’t an exhibitionist, but the excitement of knowing someone else was so close to us definitely sparked a new flame of risk and desire inside me. I could taste the risk he’d taken in my mouth and between my legs. And if there was one thing I loved about being a cop, it was the danger that rushed my adrenaline into overdrive. Unfortunately I wouldn’t get to work the streets as a cop anytime soon, so having Tristan satisfy that need in a sexual way was a good alternative.

  Still, I made a mental note to pay him back. Tristan had a habit of placing me in uncomfortable situations where I didn’t have time to organize my thoughts. I rushed to straighten my dress and compose myself. Feeling the slick in my panties press against my leg, I knew I’d have to slip out to change them as soon as I got the chance. Tristan headed toward the front of the house, peeking back at me coyly.

  When Tristan opened the door, Emma was the first one to step inside.

  “Surprise!” she yelled, rushing toward me and slamming into me. “Oops, sorry. I didn’t say anything. I promise, but if I have to keep the secret any longer I swear I’ll burst,” she squealed, while eyeing my belly with discretion.

  “What secret?” Tristan’s parents asked at the same time. Up until a few minutes ago, I wasn’t aware Tristan had invited anyone. We hadn’t even discussed how we’d tell them.

  “What happened to your arm and your leg?” Mrs. Cross ask
ed.

  “She got stabbed!” Emma exclaimed. I didn’t want to know how or when Emma had found out and the rest of the family hadn’t. I looked over at Tristan’s little sister, who had her lips literally sealed. Was she afraid if she opened her mouth for longer than three words she’d lose it?

  “My goodness. Allie, what happened?” My mother rushed in. She examined my arm as if she were a doctor.

  “It’s not a big deal.”

  “She saved a girl from a gang.” Emma embellished, then tightened her lips again.

  “It wasn’t a gang, just some nasty men,” I said.

  “Emma, remind me to add an extra training lesson to your schedule,” Tristan said to his sister.

  “Ah, come on,” Emma whined. “Do you have any idea how busy a teenager’s life is?”

  “I once was one, so I think so.” Tristan took me under his arm.

  “Times change,” she said under her breath, but lowered her head. The look Tristan gave his little sister was much more suitable for a father: a mix of discipline with love and care. He would be the perfect father.

  “And I’m going to think twice next time you ask me a favor,” she blackmailed her brother, and then turned on her heel and headed for the mirror where she brushed her fingers through her blonde hair. I was beginning to think Emma much preferred to fight someone off with her smart mouth instead of muscles. And I bet she’d win, too. She could convince anyone to go looking for the setting sun in the east.

  “And Emma’s right. They were part of a gang. If not for the cuts, I’d say Allie handled herself extremely well.” He raised his finger before I interrupted. “That’s not to say I approve of you going out all by yourself.”

  Once the door closed and everyone ensured my bandaged arm wasn’t as horrid a wound as it appeared (which it actually was), Mr. Cross asked, “Someone mentioned a secret. What secret?”

  Emma’s body whipped around to face us once again.

  Tristan raised his chin higher. I could swear I saw pride beaming out of his eyes and steaming out his ears.