Layers Peeled

by Lacey Silks

  “They understand, Allie. You’re pregnant, and you should sleep as much as you need to.”

  I rubbed my eyes. “I need to use the bathroom.”

  “This way.” He turned on the side lamp. The yellow glow somewhat illuminated the room.

  “And first thing tomorrow morning, you’re going to show me around this mansion. I can’t wait to see it all.”

  “Absolutely. But promise me you’ll wear something more than panties and a bra.” The growl from his throat excited me the moment it hit my ears.

  I bit my lip. “You don’t like a woman strolling nearly naked around your house?”

  “I love it.” He gently slapped my behind. The delicate sting sent a pleasurable tingle between my legs. “But know that I won’t be able to keep my hands off you.”

  “Then it’s a good thing we have a full weekend ahead of us because I seem to have left my suitcase in the trunk of your car.”

  “Your clothes are already in your closet, but I’m thinking of skipping showing you where that is so I can have you in your birthday suit all weekend long.”

  “So long as no one else is in the house.”

  “Oh, come on, you enjoyed it. Admit it.”

  “Maybe.”

  Tristan guided me into a bathroom the size of a five-star Hilton and let me be.

  The glass shower in the corner with a rain showerhead and jets called out to me. I turned on the water and stepped in. I’d need to change the dressing on my arm and leg later, but the doctor said a shower would help heal the wound. The warm flow encased me and I closed my eyes, enjoying the way the water seemed to spray from various sides. Once I warmed up, I played with the knobs, turning up the intensity of the jets on the wall. One of them shot right between my legs. I jumped up, startled, but then repositioned myself to feel the warm water pulse at the awakened spot. I reached for the pink sponge which I assumed belonged to me, squished some soap on the scrub, and lathered myself up. The pressure of the nozzle on my sensitive part began to build, and I wondered whether Tristan would come into the shower.

  With each passing second I wanted him and needed him that much more. My body ached to be caressed once again, and I blamed it on the hormones.

  As soon as I thought his name, a cool breeze touched my skin, and my eyes flew open. Tristan had stepped into the shower in his naked glory. I’d never be sated looking at the marvel of a man he was. How in the world did I manage to score this delicious man? My gaze traveled from his bulked arms to the thorn tattoo up to his chiseled face with a scarred lip and then down to a set of pecs blessed with a white scar over his heart that only added to his degree of sexiness. Once I reached his navel, my mouth began watering, and I licked my lips. That perfect valley narrowed into a triangle drawing me to his manhood, all ready for me.

  “You look refreshing. Enjoying the shower?” The rumble of desire in his voice couldn’t be denied.

  “Far more than I’d expected. Those jets are very greedy.”

  Tristan’s brows narrowed in a playful frown as he glided toward me and took me by my hips. “I love a strong woman who speaks her mind.”

  “What else do you love about me?” I lifted my arms to his neck, feeling his perfect naked front against me. His growth poked me in my stomach and I fought the urge to spread wider to accommodate him so he could finally have his lovely cock inside me.

  “I love your kick-ass moves when you flip my brother on his back.”

  “What else?” I bit my lip, pressing my chest harder to him, acutely aware of the “L” game we were playing.

  “I love your hair, your eyes, your tits, and your ass.” He grabbed my backside. Something stirred deep inside me. There was nothing that could arouse me more than Tristan’s dirty mouth.

  “What else?”

  “I love Puss.” He lowered his hand to my belly, rubbing it around the navel, the touch not only full of love and compassion but also desire. A tingling sensation rekindled in my core. The flickering spark turned into a small flame. Part of me wanted that hand to slide even lower, but the gentle caress of his palm felt soothing.

  I closed my eyes, savoring the touch, and whispered, “What else?”

  “I love you.”

  I gasped and opened my eyes. Was this really happening? Tristan was looking at me from above, smiling. His hazel eyes glistened with a look I hadn’t seen before. Was that love? I’d never seen a man look at me that way before. It felt good and warm and fuzzy, and I still couldn’t believe what Tristan had just said to me. And it seemed my vocal chords had rusted up in seconds.

  Say something!

  And instead of waiting for me to speak, or being insecure that I hadn’t said anything, Tristan lowered his mouth to mine and kissed me like he didn’t need to hear my reply because he already knew it. How could he not? I’d been in love with this man for weeks. I couldn’t quite place when or where it happened, because everything he had done for me and with me—I just couldn’t imagine anyone else in my life like that other than him. I trusted him with my life and my soul.

  I opened my mouth wider, feeling the soft curves of his lips trace mine. His arousal stood higher with every second our bodies connected. The slickness of the soap between us allowed me to glide against him, coaxing and teasing him with my hips, pressing harder against his growing length. I slid my hands up his arms and to his face and cupped his beautiful cheeks. Pulling away, I looked into his eyes and said, “I love you too, Tristan Cross.” Not because I had to and not because he’d said it first, but because I wanted to.

  His response was a loving smile, one I would never forget. But the expression quickly shifted to lust, and I was once again in his arms, pressed against his naked body, feeling his skin on mine, his hands everywhere and mouth possessing my lips like he’d never get enough and never let go. The water cascaded around us, steam rising higher, carrying on it a hint of our desire. By this time it was difficult to stay close enough as Tristan’s cock jabbed me in the side until I lifted my leg up, the wounded one, and braced it on a marble bench.

  He lowered himself, aiming for my opening, guiding his cock inside me, all the while caressing my breasts, stroking my arms, and grasping my ass. His hands were everywhere! When he hit my depth I heard a yelp of pleasure escape my mouth. He felt so good inside me and so wonderfully thick. I squeezed around him.

  “I also love your tight pussy,” he said out of nowhere, right against my shoulder, leaving sweet kisses on every inch of my skin so they could be washed away.

  “And I love when you let me make love to you anytime.”

  I smiled against his chest, finding it more difficult to concentrate on actual words with every slick push inside me.

  Tristan’s buttocks tightened under my palms.

  “I love feeling your muscles work,” I said digging my fingers into him.

  “Like this?” he asked, with a spicier thrust of his hips. I felt him so deep inside me, hitting that one spot which sent zapping pleasure to my pussy.

  “Yes.” I closed my eyes. The water flowed down my back. His hands were on my hips, holding them steady, guiding me where he wanted me to be, supporting my weight to ensure I didn’t lose my balance. I held onto his arms, savoring every single pleasing thrust that would soon bring on my rapture.

  “Or like this?” His second jab was more urgent and closer, rubbing against me on the way in and out.

  “Yes,” I said louder through the water, feeling a beautiful bundle of delight thicken my flesh.

  My head lolled back as my body rocked to the rhythm of his hips. Tristan propelled into me with ferocious plunges, burrowing himself deep inside me. He made sure every single entry of his cock slammed our bodies together, rubbing his pubic bone against mine and that sensitive tip. The friction became unbearable.

  A new buzz fused in my belly and I felt like a can of coke, shaken in a hand, about to be opened under pressure. Then I heard his raspy voice, “I love to watch you come, Allie. Will you please come for me?” And he
tightened his arms around me, holding onto me like he was holding onto his own life, knowing very well what was about to happen to me. The delightful explosion from between us was beyond gratifying. Each spasm and jitter of my body against his tantalized me all over again, and I thought the release wouldn’t stop, ever. He robbed me of strength and bones as I completely fell into his arms, letting him do anything to me that he wanted.

  “Open your eyes,” he whispered as I shook in his arms. I looked up, seeing only one emotion on his face: passion. And with one last push, Tristan stilled inside me. His eyes widened and he bit his scarred lip and I watched him reach his climax. It was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen, the vulnerability and commitment in his eyes to share this special moment so freely and willingly.

  “I love you,” we both said at the same time.

  Life couldn’t get any better, could it?

  After washing off, we ventured downstairs to grab a snack. Now that I had my appetite back, Puss seemed hungrier each week. Tristan heated leftover turkey and tossed a salad with a garlic dressing Olivier had left in a jar. But my taste buds craved something sweeter.

  “Crème brûlée?” Tristan asked.

  The juices in my mouth instantly collected into a small pool. “He made crème brûlée?”

  “Your mother said it’s your favorite dessert.” Tristan removed a container from the fridge.

  I dug my fork into the soft sponge glazed over with crispy caramel sugar. The sweetness spread through my mouth as I savored the taste.

  “This is heaven.” I took another bite. “So, this wedding we’re going to, should I buy them something special?”

  “That’s going to be difficult. Gabe and Sam have everything they need.”

  “You’ll have to help me out on this one. At least give me a hint.”

  “Allie, I’m the last person to ask about gifts.”

  “Fine.” I’d have to figure out on my own what to give to people who had everything they needed. And if they didn’t, I was sure they could buy it. “How long have they known each other?”

  “A few months.”

  “And they’re getting married?”

  “I guess so. You’ll love them. They’re a great couple.”

  “Wow. That’s pretty quick.”

  “Everyone has their own timeframe. I don’t think there’s a rule to how long you should be together, or even if you need to be engaged.”

  My eyes bulged. “That’s exactly what I was thinking. There’s no book that outlines the steps to happiness. Life is life.”

  “We’re so alike, Allie.” He shook his head in astonishment and jabbed a fork into a piece of my dessert. “I never felt this comfortable with anyone.”

  “And that’s a good thing?”

  “That’s a very good thing.” Tristan tapped my nose with his finger.

  “So, if you’re the best man, who’s the maid of honor?” I asked.

  “Kendra,” Tristan said.

  My stomach turned. As comfortable as I was with Tristan, seeing Kendra beside him at the altar was the last image I wanted in my mind.

  CHAPTER 8

  In less than a month we’d be flying to Austria to witness the wedding of Gabriel Silver, who was Tristan’s and Julian’s partner and cousin. I’d never been to a winter wonderland-themed wedding, and I was looking forward to meeting the rest of the family. At work, half the office staff had already left on holidays. Even though it was a month away, the Cross brothers liked to surprise their staff with an exclusive vacation and perks no other company had offered. Their motto of ‘A happy worker is a good worker’ seemed to pay off – I’d never seen a more devoted bunch than the people who worked for Cross Enterprises, and I didn’t doubt they would take a bullet for one of their bosses.

  The past few days we’d been working on skeleton staff, and Tristan had said only the contracted jobs would be fulfilled during the next three weeks. Not that it was my department. After the incident at the nightclub, Tristan made me swear I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize my health and safety, especially since my weakened body still hadn’t fully recovered. Working on sex trafficking cases not directly affiliated with Cross Enterprises left me with a stack of files on my desk I had difficulty seeing over. It seemed I was going to have to leave Laura in a few weeks on her own to finish organizing and prioritizing our work starting in the New Year. There were stings to coordinate and girls who needed their Christmas wish to come true.

  It had been a week since we broke the news of my pregnancy to our families. I was grateful the morning sickness subsided. And now, I sat in my new office and searched through files trying to decide if I could help out one more girl or woman. I wanted that one other hopeless soul to see hope before Christmas, but that seemed like a miracle of its own.

  As much as I loved working so close to Tristan, I saw less of him than before. It was as if we’d reached a comfortable routine of a married couple who worked nine to five during the day and came home to see each other afterwards. Okay, I had to admit the job came with the most wonderful perks I could have imagined. Like locking ourselves in his office for a quickie which lengthened each time I visited him. We’d sneak into his bathroom, car, or the conference room. Each one added a feeling of danger that caused my adrenaline and hormones to surge.

  Tristan had suggested I take time off during my pregnancy. Our argument over me working or not had lasted a full fifteen minutes and of course I won. It wasn’t really an argument anyway; Tristan gave in as soon as I made my puppy eyes, and I knew I’d found his weakness.

  After all, how could I leave the girls who suffered from oppression and exploitation by themselves? With Tristan’s resources, we’d already rescued over a dozen off the streets, allocating them to rehabilitative clinics and placement programs. The more difficult cases were the secret sales and pimps with influence. Those were not only expensive – which Tristan said his company could afford – but also dangerous to everyone we involved.

  “You know, we could solve these much quicker if we were out in the field ourselves,” I said to Laura, peeking at her over the stack. “Getting feedback in a staff meeting is just not the same.”

  “I’m game, but I’m not sure Mr. Cross would agree.” She looked at me from underneath her lashes.

  “It’s Tristan. And I really think he’s being overprotective.” I flipped through a file. Tristan had made it clear I was not to be out in the field, at least not while pregnant; though I had yet to officially break the news of my pregnancy to Laura.

  “Do you know why?” she asked. “He doesn’t seem like someone to stop you from fieldwork.”

  “I’m not the only one he’s concerned about.” I felt my mouth stretch upward.

  She looked at me from under her lashes, carefully studying my face, and then slowly said, “Now I know you’re not talking about me.”

  “Nope.” I bit my lip. “Someone quite a bit smaller than you.”

  I saw the idea of me being pregnant hit her in slow motion. Laura’s mouth opened as she whispered, “Noh...”

  I simply nodded.

  “You’re preggo?” She pushed her chair back and rushed over to hug me. Laura sat on the corner of my desk waiting for more details.

  “It sort of happened.” And that was my standard response.

  “I sort of suspected,” she admitted.

  “I know, but I had to tell the family first.”

  “Oh, my god. Now I really don’t know what to say.” She covered her heart with her hand, obviously truly happy for me.

  “Well, that’s a first. So as you ponder how we’ll get out in the field with my growing belly, why don’t you spill about James?”

  “He’s cool.”

  “Just cool?”

  “Hey, I’m not the one who got knocked up by Mr. Sexy.”

  “No, but James is the first guy you haven’t bragged about. What’s up with that?”

  “It’s different with him. Every time we do it is better than... choc
olate cake.”

  Laura loved chocolate cake as much as I did.

  “You mean to say you’d had sex with him more than once?” I teased.

  “Shut up. I still can’t believe you’re going to have a little one spitting up and throwing up on you.”

  “I think it’s the best thing that’s ever happened.”

  “Well, from the look on your face, it seems it definitely suits you. You’ll be a great mother.”

  Turning the pages of a file, a familiar name caught my eye, and I narrowed my brows. “I’d be just fine undercover instead of delegating cases,” I muttered. “I’m not even showing yet.”

  “It’s not about you not showing, it’s about not getting into a situation which could be too physical.” She leaned over my shoulder to get a better look. “You have that look on your face,” she added as she took the file from me.

  “What look?” I asked.

  “The ‘something doesn’t add up’ look. She looks like you. Do you know her?” She pointed to the mug shot. It was rare for us to have a close-up photo of one of the victims. If they’d been taken in by the police before, it was our lucky break. The girls didn’t know it, but it was their lucky break as well. The police reports gave us more information to work with.

  “I’m not sure. I may have seen her before. Where was she spotted?” I grabbed the file again and took a closer look at the elongated face with a pixie cut.

  “Hunts Point.”

  The girl reminded me of that night in Manhattan when I had gone undercover for an auction where abducted women were being sold. Except that Hunts Point was in the Bronx. I examined the photograph. The innocent face I remembered had aged. Her high cheeks were sunken in, and her hair no longer extended beyond her shoulders. And I’d seen her only a few weeks ago. She was assaulted in front of my eyes, and there was nothing I could have done to save her. She was forced to climax in front of others, stripped not only of dignity but humanity. All her will taken away within minutes. The girl who’d stood beside me that evening, the one whose looks could pass for those of my younger sister, shouldn’t have endured all the pain. Perhaps that’s why she seemed so important to me. Her resemblance tugged at my heart, and I felt a connection with her I hadn’t with any of the other girls we’d rescued. That wasn’t good. Getting personally involved with one of the victims could cloud my mind. I wouldn’t be able to focus—perhaps even make mistakes I couldn’t afford.