Warped (21 page)

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

SEPTEMBER 19
TH
2014

I sit down on the sofa with a huff. I need some cherry pie. God damn, Flora. She’s got me addicted. No, not me, jellybean is addicted. I’ve tried cherry yoghurt, cherry bakewell tart, shop bought cherry pie, and even just plain cherries from a tub. Nothing works.

I need cherry pie. Badly.

I sigh and look towards Damon. He’s sitting at the table doing some work on his laptop, not paying me any attention. I shift, cross my arms and cross my legs, huffing and puffing as I move. I look back to Damon again and he’s watching me with a smirk on his face, amusement shining in his dark gaze.

“What?” I snap. He just doesn’t understand. This baby won’t let me settle without some pissing cherry pie.

“What’s the matter, beauty? Why are you pouting?” I didn’t even realise I was. I don’t stop either.

“I need some of your mum’s cherry pie,” I tell him casually. He smiles.

“Okay. I’ll ring her in the morning and ask her to bake one. We’ll go pick it up.” He speaks to me like I’m a child and that just pisses me off. “It’s simple, beauty. So again, why the pout?” Casual doesn’t work. I’ll have to be blunt.

“No. I need your mum’s cherry pie now. Right this second.” Damon laughs at me, but his smile soon falls when he takes in my expression. He just doesn’t get it. I don’t want the pie. His baby does. I’m restless because I’m craving pie. Damon’s mum’s cherry pie to be exact.

Tears fill my eyes. Stupid hormones. I wish I didn’t have the bloody craving. It would be easier for me, but nothing, and I mean nothing, is satisfying me. The baby is sad to not be getting what she wants, and that makes my moods erratic. My stupid hormones make the stupid tears fall.

Damon rushes over to me. He crouches down in front on me, cupping my face in his large hands. His thumbs brush each teardrop away as his eyes search mine.

“Beauty?” He leans forward to kiss some of my tears away. “Why are you crying? What’s wrong?” he breathes against my ear.

“The baby wants cherry pie. Your mum’s cherry pie.” I shut my eyes. I sound so stupid but it’s really how I feel. It’s like the baby’s emotions have taken over my brain. “I’ve tried everything we have that’s cherry flavour, and nothing works. I’ve needed it for two days now.”

I can’t sleep. I can’t get comfortable. Nothing else appeals to me, and the thought of Flora’s juicy cherries covered in the sweetest cherry sauce I’ve ever tasted, wrapped in the tastiest, buttery short crust pasty known to man, are the only think I can think of.

“I’ll get you a pie tomorrow, beauty.” I rest my forehead on his shoulder. He’s not listening to me.

“I need it now. Not tomorrow. Not in an hour. I need it now.” I say in a small voice. I know I sound silly, but I can’t help it.

“Okay. We’ll make one then, Ella. It can’t be hard.” Damon’s voice rings with such determination that my head snaps up. Did I hear that right? He can’t be serious? Then the smell of Flora’s pie takes over my senses and I shake my head. That won’t work.

“No I need your mum’s. It has to be Flora’s.”

“Then we’ll ring her. She can tell me what to do and I’ll make my woman and baby a pie.” He wipes my tears away and I laugh and sob at the same time. He’s amazing.

Okay, so maybe I’m being over the top and it’s not all that amazing, it’s just cherry pie, but he is trying to help with the craving. I lean towards his mouth and lay a smacking kiss on his lips.

“Thank you.” I pull back and smile. Damon nods whilst smiling. He stands and walks over to shut down his computer.

“Why don’t you go have a soak on the bath? I’ll ring mum and get started on the pie.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

DAMON

WHAT. THE. FUCK.

What the actual fuck was that? Ella had a meltdown over cherry pie. Cherry fucking pie. I don’t even try to understand but if my girl wants pie, she’ll get pie.

I walk in to the kitchen and there’s an open bakewell tart on the counter, still in the tin tray. A spoon is left lying on top of the tart, and the middle has been gouged out where the cherry should be. I laugh and shake my head.

Fucking cherries.

I’ll never understand women. Why not just ask for a fucking pie when the craving first started rather than wait days until she’s crying for it?

I pull my phone out and hit dial on my parent’s house and wait for someone to pick up. How hard can a recipe be to follow? Dad and Spence will have a field day when they hear about this.

“Hello.” My mother picks up after just a few rings.

“Mum, its Damon.”

“Hello, darling. Are you well?”

“Yes. You?”

“You know me, I’m always well. Your father is too.”

“Mum I’m calling because I need your cherry pie recipe.” She stays silent for a minute. I know her brain is swimming with questions she won’t voice.

“Okay, darling. Do you want me to get your father to computer it to you?” she asks seriously. I chuckle. She never fails to make me laugh.

“You mean email it?”

“Yes. You know what I mean. He can email it to you or I could help you...” she leaves her suggestion open, hoping I’ll fill her in a little more as to why her twenty-eight year old son, who has never baked a pie before, wants the recipe. 

“Is it easy?”

“If you know what you’re doing.” Fuck.

“Ella said the baby wants cherry pie. Your cherry pie to be specific. She just sat in the lounge crying the past ten minutes, so I’m going to bake her one.”

“Do you want me to bake one for her, darling?” Mum asks. I check the time, 7pm. “I’ll have your dad bring it over before nine tonight.”

“No, it’s alright Mum. Thanks though.” It’s getting late, and I can’t expect her to start baking now. I hang up after getting some strict instructions from my mum and look for everything I’ll need to make my beauty her fucking cherry pie.

My phone beeps with an email. I pull it up and check the instructions with added on tips from my mum. I have to make the pastry? Fuck. Maybe mum should have made one. I pulse the flour, cubed butter, and sugar in the mixer to make the pastry.

Flour clouds in the air around my face, coating me in a fine layer of white, when I press the pulse button on the mixer. “Fucking flour,” I mumble to myself as I try to wipe away as much as I can.

“Need a hand?”

I turn and find Ella leaning against the counter, a grin on her perfect fucking face. She’s sexy as hell. Standing there in sweats and vest, her hair is in a messy knot, no makeup. She looks like a goddess. My cock twitches as I take her in. Her braless tits hang free and as I stare, her nipples pebble. I fucking love her body’s response to me.

“I thought you were going for a soak?” Her shit eating grin, along with her massive fucking owl eyes sends all my blood south. My eyes drift down her curves, taking in her expanding waist and rounded hips, our baby making her stomach round out with her growth. I wish I could see her arse. Fuck, her arse is fine.

This girl is so far under my skin that it freaks me out at times. I want her every time she’s near, and I need to be balls deep in her. Those fucking lips are my undoing, and I have to taste her. I can’t fucking wait to marry her. She’s the best thing to happen to me, and I know I could lose it all in one hit, but I’ll do everything I can to get her so fucking hooked she can’t leave me when I tell her my secrets.

I can’t fucking lose her.

I won’t lose her.

I have plans for her.  

“I’ve run it. I just wanted to see if you wanted help first.” She smiles at me and I nearly come like a horny teenager. Those fucking bee-stung lips always look well kissed and fucked. They don’t get bigger when she’s sucked my cock, because they’re as full as they can be all the time. She’s fucking incomparable.

I stride over to her and take her in my arms, my hands gripping her arse to me. She fits me just right. She’s made for me. I look in her forest green eyes, outlined in long, black, thick lashes, and see love shining but I don’t know if it’s enough yet. She’s not ready to know the real me.

I kiss the tip of her nose. She wraps her arms around my neck, and her tits press into my stomach. Fuck these tits are as perfect as her arse. I pull her closer to me, letting her feel my cock. It’s all for her. I don’t see other women any more. She’s fucking ruined me for all woman.

“I’ve got this covered. I said I’d bake you a cherry pie, and a cherry pie I will bake. You go and relax.” I release my grip on her arse and mould my hands to her stomach. My baby is starting to change her body now. She’s rounding more in places, getting curvier, not that I give a shit. I fucking love her curves. I love seeing the changes as she grows with my child.

It’s still hard to believe a little person is growing inside her. Seeing the scan was mind-blowing. Not that I understood what I was seeing. The doctor tried pointing body parts out to me but it just looked like a gray ink blob on black paper. Ella fucking glowed, actually lit up, when she saw our baby again. Our daughter. Tears glistened in her eyes and she clung to my hand. She’s glowing now too.

“I can’t wait to try it.” She looks up at me from under her lashes. The innocence that shines out of her drives me insane.

I kiss the shit out of her, tasting her, controlling her. She melts into me. I grin against her lips. Her reaction is incomparable. I pull away when she starts to get carried away, rubbing up against me, grinding her pink pussy against me. Usually I’d be down for that shit. I’d never turn her down but I want to bake what my baby wants.

I let her go and walk back over to the mixer. I put the lid on this time and pulse once again, looking over my shoulder and see her trying to catch her breath. I smile, satisfied that she’s in deep.

“Maybe you could finish the pie later and join me in the bath first?” Ella’s voice husks. I’ll never finish the pie if I get her naked because I don’t plan to rush with her tonight. I lean on the counter pretending to consider her offer. I straighten up and walk over to her. A beautiful smile splits across her face. She thinks she’s going to get what she wants.

I tap her on the tip of her nose, leaving a white flour dot behind, and shake my head. “Not going to happen. If the baby wants pie, the baby will get pie.”  I turn her around and slap her arse, pushing her towards the stairs and get back to attempting my first ever cherry pie.

CHAPTER FORTY

ELLA

I wake feeling refreshed after my soak and nap. After soaking in the bubbles for half an hour, I was so relaxed I could barely keep my eyes open. So I didn’t, I slept for a few hours. My stomach grumbles, demanding the promised cherry pie. I pat my bump. Soon, jellybean. I go and empty my bladder before heading in search of pie.

As I walk towards the kitchen the smells perfuming the air have my mouth watering. It’s seems Damon has done well. It smells exactly like Flora’s cherry pie does. I pick up my pace, needing to get to the pie ASAP.             

I round the bottom of the stairs and go straight to the kitchen. The pie sitting on the counter looks amazing. My mouth feels like it’s been taken over by a waterfall, and I’m sure if I just open my mouth saliva will gush out.

My brain zones in on the pie and nothing else exists. I pull a spoon from the dishwasher and dig straight in. I moan as the flavours hit my taste buds. Damon will be making this on a regular basis. It’s perfect, just like his mum’s.

I devour more than half the pie before my craving starts to ease. The baby is as satisfied as I am. I pick the remaining pie up, continuing to eat, and go in search of Damon.

I hear him speaking on the balcony. He must be on the phone, so I make my way outside to find him. Damon must have heard my approach as he meets me at the door.

“Beauty, good nap?”

“Mmhmm,” I say, pushing another piece of pie in my mouth before continuing with my mouth full. “This is so good Damon. Thank you. I hope you don’t mind that I’ve nearly eaten it all?” Looking in the tray I only have two pieces left, I really have nearly eaten it all.

I bring the spoon up with piece of cherry pie to Damon’s mouth, but pull it back at the last minute and eat it myself. Damon chuckles at me, his eyes twinkling.

“You have a little something here.” Damon’s lips brush against mine before he licks the corner of my mouth. He sets my blood on fire and I need more. I turn my head slightly to connect my lips to his. I push my tongue into his mouth, and Damon groans against my lips before pulling away. “Hmmm, cherry. I didn’t think you could taste better beauty, but I was wrong.” I giggle at him before eating the last piece of pie.

“Damon that was better than an orgasm. It was exactly like your mum’s.” Damon raises a brow with a smirk on his lips. “Well maybe not as good as orgasms you give me but better than ones before you. I’m hoping my night will be topped off with an orgasm on top of that orgasmic pie.” I pause and think a minute. “Maybe you should make another tomorrow so I could eat it off you?” I suggest, really liking that idea.

Damon almost chokes before his eyes bulge out. It would almost be comical, if it wasn’t for the chuckle and other choking sounds behind him. I cover my face in mortification when I realise for the first time that we aren’t alone.  

Damon steps away from me and I notice who is here. A blush creeps up my neck, painting my cheeks pink as embarrassment sets in. Flora and George are watching us with warm smiles gracing their faces. I glare at Damon for not making me aware of their presence, but he just grins.

“We were waiting for you to wake before we all have some cherry pie.” My mouth drops open in shock. I’ve just eaten it all. Shit. I’m so mortified, I just want to go back to bed and hide. I turn and look at Flora and George apologetically.

“I’m so sorry. I’ve eaten it all. I didn’t realise you were here.”

“No worries, dear.” Flora says in a motherly voice, with a warm smile. “I made three. I knew you’d need more. I remember what cravings are like.”

So that’s why it tasted so perfect. I thought Damon had made it and he hadn’t. Flora had. I walk over to where they’re seated and place a kiss on both their cheeks in greeting before taking a seat. “Well in that case, Damon, why don’t you go cut some pie up seeing as you didn’t make it?” I smile at him as he chuckles.

“Yes, beauty. Mine burnt. Mum must have known I wouldn’t have been able to do it, so she baked them for you. I didn’t think you’d eat one all by yourself though.” Damon says with a grin, before he enters the house. I roll my eyes.

****

After George and Flora leave Damon and I go to bed. The evening has been pleasant and I’m full to the brim with pie. I’m so satisfied but stuffed. Damon’s pie didn’t come out right, but Flora, being the loving person she is, decided to bake some and bring them over even though Damon told her not to.

“Beauty, next time you get cravings just tell me. Don’t let that shit stew until you’re sad. If our baby wants something, she will get it.”

He grins at me before pulling me to him. He kisses my head before snuggling me in the crook of his arm, and my head rests on his shoulder.