Layers Peeled (7 page)

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.

“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 whether 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 asked.

“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.

My mother
examined me from the bottom up. “Oh, my gosh, she’s glowing,” she
gasped.

“Why is she
glowing?” Mr. Cross narrowed his brows.

I couldn’t
wipe the grin off my face, and neither could Tristan. Perhaps this
was the right time to tell them? Emma was doing everything in her
power to keep her mouth shut, but I could tell from her reddening
face it wouldn’t be long before she spilled everything anyways. She
looked like she’d been holding her breath for over a minute and
wouldn’t last much longer.

With a quick
look at Tristan, I knew he’d agree, so I gave him a little nod.

“Mom, Dad,
Mrs. Green. I guess the house warming surprise is not the only one
we’re getting today. Allie’s expecting.”

“I’m going to
be an aunt!” Emma screamed, jumping up and down. She then grabbed
her mother by the collar, and with her bulging eyes, she repeated,
“I’m going to be an aunt!”

My mom’s face
paled. I knew what she was thinking, and my heart broke. It was
only thirteen years ago that she was in my shoes, waiting for my
sister to be born. Except she miscarried the child because of the
bastard who’d assaulted and raped her. But she rushed toward me and
took me into her arms. As we embraced I felt her salty tears fall
on my shoulders. My eyes welled.

“Really?” I
heard her ask into my ear.

I nodded my
head because I couldn’t get a word out and broke out the happy
tears. I would have never imagined I could be filled with so much
emotion while expecting.

“I guess
you’re going to be a grandpa, Fred.” Mrs. Cross patted her husband
on his back and then embraced Tristan. “Congratulations, honey.
Finally one of my boys is expanding their family. At least you’re
young and have the energy for a little one.”

“And I’m going
to be an aunt!” Emma squealed again, jumping up and down. “I’m so
happy I have no more secrets. This month was so stressful. People,
don’t tell me any more secrets. I can’t stand it!” She raised her
arms and started texting and most likely updating her social status
as an
aunt to be
on Facebook.