Rendezvous (19 page)

I watch as Maddie looks down in her lap. I’ve never seen her look so small. Normally she’s a ball-buster just like I am, but right now she reminds me of the fragile child I use to be.

“You’re joking right?” I chuckle, trying to lighten the mood. “If anyone is eating me out of house and home, it’s Cage. He’s just giving you a hard time, Maddie. I’ve known for months that you snack on the leftovers and take some home for your dinner. I don’t care about that at all. I told you when I first came to the house to help yourself. I mean that. Cage has no say, and I hardly consider you eating to be stealing. But that isn’t everything that’s going on Maddie. I saw you with your shoes this morning, so talk to me."

We spend the next three hours talking about how a month ago that asshole stole all of her money. She’s been trying to scrape by for a fucking month. I don’t tell her about the bonus, but I do convince her to let me treat her to some new shoes and a few new outfits. While she’s in the dressing room, I call the apartment building that she lives in. I know it might be going overboard, but when I’m told that she received an eviction notice if she doesn’t come up with her rent in four days, I’m pissed. I don’t even call Mrs. Anders to deal with it; I deal with it now instead, and cover her next three months as well as the past due. No way am I going to let someone close to me struggle when I have the means to help them. I know she’ll be upset that I pried; I just hope that she’ll see the bigger picture and let me help her.

As we’re leaving the mall, she lets it slip that Tristan is planning something for my birthday. I don’t want to rat her out, but I will be nipping that shit in the bud. I don’t celebrate my birthday anymore, not since Cora’s been gone. I suppose it could be different this year, knowing she is still alive, but I really don’t want him going out of his way. My birthday is really just a reminder of the years of hell I’ve be through.

I return home from hanging out with Maddie and walk into what sounds like a war zone. Rushing into the living room, I find that psycho Sylvia pointing a taser at my father and ranting about being cheated out of what is hers. Looking around the room I find it littered with broken glass, smashed sculptures, and I stop dead in my tracks when I see Tristan kneeling down with a glass shard protruding from his shoulder. I’m fucking livid. Where the hell is Cage? Why the fuck didn’t anyone stop her from getting onto the property? I look closer at Tristan’s shirt and see barbs sticking out of his chest through the fabric.

No fucking way in hell am I about to stand by knowing this fucking cunt shot my man with a taser. This bitch has already rubbed me the wrong fucking way. She’s too busy cursing at my father in Italian to notice me move through the room. As she lifts the taser and points it at my father I bring my arm down hard on hers. She pulls the trigger and the barbs sink into the carpet.

She turns to face me, still screaming as I chop my hand sideways into her windpipe cutting off her air supply. As she hits the floor gasping for air, all hell breaks loose. She tries lunging for me, but I move and catch her leg tripping her so she lands on her face. Getting up, she got tries to claw at my face and reach for my hair. She grabs hold of a piece and is tugging on it as I land a punch to her stomach.

I don’t hear Tristan come up behind me; I’m too focused on Sylvia. I feel like I’m watching in slow motion as she pulls a knife from her back pocket, flips the blade up and slashed it forward. She misses me, but catches Tristan’s arm as he tries to block me from it.

All I can see is red in that moment, and not just at the sight of Tristan’s blood. No one hurts what is mine and fucking gets away with it. I don’t know what comes over me. I’m screaming bloody murder as I knock her ass backwards. I don’t stop fucking swinging at her until they pull me off. At some point she had stopped fighting back. I don’t know when but I didn’t care. Maddie, who stayed near the door during the altercation, calls the police.

By the time the reports are filed, Sylvia is being carted away in cuffs and my knuckles are swelled around where they split open from beating her. I’m in the kitchen washing the blood off of them when Tristan strolls in.

“You know, Tiger, your old man and I had it under control. You didn’t have to go all spastic and rearrange her face, not to mention that the carpet will need to be replaced. What the hell got into you anyway? What did you think you were doing in there? You could have gotten yourself hurt?”

I turn to face him, placing both hands on my hips. “I could have gotten hurt? I’m not the one with eighteen stitches in my shoulder from a piece of broken glass. I’m not the one with barbs sticking out of my chest. I see just how well you two were handling it. By all means, remind me how I could’ve gotten hurt. Seeing how I’m not the one who got shocked with several hundred bolts of fucking electricity. Don’t tell me you had it under control. If I waited any longer, she would have shot my father with that gun. Then what, Tristan? His heart is already labored from the cardiac arrest, what do you think that taser would have done to him?”

“Baby, he would have been fine. Going Rambo on her ass though, that was fucking reckless,” he chastises.

“Oh no you fucking don’t. You are not going to make me feel bad for that,” I say while pointing towards the living room. “This is my fucking house. That bitch is not going to come into my house, start breaking my shit, assaulting the people I love, and fucking get away with it. Not a chance in hell. And if you have a problem with that, Asshat, we can hash that shit out right now. My hand is already fucked up, a few more bruises to it won’t make too much of a fucking difference,” I shout in hysterics.

Tristan laughs while approaching me. “It’s been a long time since you called me Asshat. I’ll let the shit you pulled tonight slide, but if I ever catch you putting yourself in danger again…" he leans in close to me as he speaks against my skin, “I’ll take you over my knee and spank that naughty little ass of yours until it matches the shade your cheeks are right now.”

I’m royally pissed. The cheeky fucker might think he’s being cute but I don’t. “Try me asshole, I already know how to put you on your ass. So be my guest and try me. Let’s see which one of us comes out on top.”

I mean to sound serious, but as of late, he manages to take anything I say in anger and turns it into something sexual. It fucking infuriates me to no end.

“I happen to like when you ride me baby doll,” he replies while swatting my ass. “I’d be more than happy to have you on top, because I know how much you enjoy riding my cock,” he whispers against my skin.

I don’t want to react, but fuck me, if him talking dirty doesn’t turn me on, and the asshole knows it too. He grazes his hand under the length of my skirt, brushing his fingers across my thigh and using his palm to rub across the thin fabric that’s keeping him from where I wanted him most.

He nips my earlobe as he corners me between him and the counter. “So fucking naughty, Bentley. You can try to hide it, but just the mention of you impaled on my cock has your panties soaked. Is that what you want, Baby? To ride my dick? Tell me if that’s what you want, because right now I want to bury my dick in that tight little pussy of yours and fuck you until you can no longer scream my name.”

I can’t breathe as he nips along the length of my neck before kissing his way back up to my ear. He’s still rubbing the small piece of fabric and the friction he’s creating is torture. The bastard knows exactly what he is doing to me.

“How about this, Bentley…how about I fuck you right here on this counter where anyone can walk in and catch us? Would you stop me? Or would you milk my cock with that wet pussy of yours until I’m coming deep inside you.”

I groan as his words make me even wetter. I don’t give a shit how or where he fucks me, but I need to feel his cock stretching me right now. I reach for his belt buckle as he tugs away at the offending fabric between us. I step out of the soaked fabric as they fall to my ankles, then finish with his belt, button and zipper.

Before I can pull them down, he hoists me onto the low countertop. I am so desperate for him to be inside of me that I’m ready to beg. Instead, he pushes me back further and buries his face in my pussy. I try like hell to bite back the moans, knowing that’s exactly what the fucker wants. He wants me screaming his fucking name for anyone who might still be here.

I lose my reason for holding back as he licks through my lips and begins darting his tongue in and out of my pussy. As good as it feels, it isn’t enough, I need more of him. I lift my hips up to meet him as he continues his torture. He brings me to the edge several times before moving away and kissing the insides of my thighs and stomach. Once I’m ready to fall apart, he pushes me over the edge and the waves of my orgasm crash over me. I scream out his name until my voice was hoarse. Only then does he give me what I really need.

I still have to adjust to his length and girth, though he rarely gives me time. In a single thrust he is buried deep in me. Bringing me to the edge of the counter, he thrusts into me with a fierceness I rarely see from him. The edge of the counter is digging into my ass as he fucks me into a state of bliss. If someone came into the kitchen right now, I wouldn’t even give a shit. All that matters is this need to have him as deep inside of me as possible.

He stops and pulls out for a moment, lifting me off the counter before turning me around and bending my hips to lean over it. I press my swollen fingers onto the granite as he thrusts back into me. We’ve fucked a lot of different ways over the past few weeks, a lot of different positions and places, but this one is new. It is a mix of pleasure and pain as he relentlessly fucks me while hitting my sweet spot each time he’s buries himself deeper. My legs are shaking as another orgasm builds up. He’s holding me up as it hits, sending tingles down my spine and causing me to clench around him.

I can feel him building up to it and he increases his speed, slamming harder as he thickens that extra bit before his own orgasm overtakes him. He’s shaking against my backside as I milk his orgasm. Once he is milked of every drop of cum, he falls to the kitchen floor, taking me with him.

Neither one of us move for several minutes. I’m leaning against the counter once we get up. He pulls a washcloth from one of the drawers and with warm water, uses it to gently wipe away the cum that’s starting to run down my leg, before cleaning himself off. We sit on the floor for a good twenty minutes after that just being together. We don’t need words or to cuddle, we just need to be close.

Chapter 19

Tristan

I don’t know what the fuck caused me to do that. I’ve always tried to be gentle with Bentley. This time though I want to punish her, not to hurt her or anything fucked up like that.  I want her to know I am not okay with her endangering herself. I need to get over seeing her on top of that bitch beating the hell out of her. I was so fucking pissed that she had put herself in harm’s way, and even if she didn’t get hit back, she still split her fucking hand open.

I didn’t expect her to react how she did. No matter how rough I got with her, she seemed to relish in it. She didn’t cry out when I tugged on her hair or react when I dug my fingers into her skin. She took every bit of it and slammed her ass back to meet each of my thrusts. If I thought I could fuck her into behaving, I was wrong. Never in a million years did I think she’d ever let me fuck her in her kitchen. We both knew damn well Maddie could show up at any moment, yet instead of turning her off, she was more excited. She met my need with her own and gave back just as good. I didn’t think it was possible to want her any more than I already did. I want to be pissed off. Instead, I think I just fell for her a little more. Somehow tonight she managed to dig herself even deeper under my skin.

I gather her discarded panties before following her upstairs. Even though we’ve been back together several weeks now, I know she still gets embarrassed at the mention of us having sex. While I am all for keeping things low key, I think it’s fucking comical that she worries about the shit she does in her own house.

Heading up the stairs, I curse about all of the little things she’s been annoying me with lately. It’s nothing to really piss me off, but she just seems more cautious of our relationship now that her father is in the picture.  He’s planning to whisk Aggie away on some sight-seeing excursion of the world though, so we’ll have plenty of time to ourselves.

After a quick shower, I leave Bentley in her room and head downstairs with the intention of making sure we left no evidence of what we did in the kitchen. When I walk into the room, however, I’m affronted with the smell of bleach and the evil eye from Maddie.

“I bleached the countertops this time; next time you can do that yourself,” she reprimands.

I laugh, “I was planning on washing them myself. Do I even want to know how you knew?”

She joins in my laughter, “You’re joking right? The two of you aren’t exactly quiet. Not that I can blame either of you. If I was in her shoes, I’d be christening every room of this house several times at least.”

We are laughing when Bentley saunters into the room and asks what’s going on. “Nothing,” I say as Maddie tries to hide her face away.

“Doesn’t look like nothing,” Bentley says while crossing her arms over her chest.

I walk over to her and place a kiss on her cheek, “She overheard our less than modest romp, and was just confirming if she were in our shoes, she’d have done the same.”

I watch her face turn bright red and laugh again. I know the idea of us getting caught embarrasses her, but I wasn’t expecting her to take off out of the room. I stand there as she turns and rushes back up the stairs.

“I’m so sorry, Tristan. I shouldn’t have said anything. It really wasn’t my place,” she replies remorsefully.

“Don’t worry about it, Maddie. She’s been overly emotional lately.”

3 Weeks later

It’s been a few weeks since the incident in the kitchen and Bentley seems to be growing distant. I can’t for the life of me understand why. Marco and Aggie left on their trip and Dante is off with some new guy. We should be making up for lost time. Instead
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she spends most of her time holed up in her office and rarely speaks to me or Maddie. Even Mrs. Anders rarely sees her. I’m exhausting every fucking outlet I have. After begging every female I come into contact with for some insight, I’m no fucking closer to knowing what is going on with Bentley. She can’t possibly still be upset over getting caught by Maddie, so what the hell is going on? I try getting her to talk to me, but she just tells me she’s busy and can’t talk right now.

Walking into the kitchen, I find Maddie and Mrs. Anders talking.

“Any improvement?” I ask.

“Nothing here. She’s hardly said more than five words today, and when she does, it’s a simply good morning, or thank you,” Mrs. Ander’s says.

“Fucking hell. I’m not sure how much more of this I can take. After everything we’ve been through, this shit makes no sense. Why the fuck is she pushing me away? I don’t know what to think. I’m not used to her being emotional. I’m used to her being a snarky, sarcastic, smart ass. I miss having that with her,” I admit.

“Speaking of emotional, did she talk to you about today? I’m really sorry I slipped. She was so upset when I told her you were planning something special. I thought she’d be happy, but instead she just kind of lost it,” Maddie says.

“Yeah, she let me know in less than stellar fashion just how much I better leave her birthday alone. She went on a whole rage fueled rant about how I need to step back and stop trying to make things right. How some things need to just be as they are? It doesn’t make any sense,” I grumble, while taking a seat across from her.

“Are you sure about that? The not making sense part…I mean think about it...everything has been turned upside down. Her monster of a mother is dead, the sister she thought was dead isn’t, yet she wants nothing to do with her. The man she thought was her father isn’t, and through all of that, she still has to live with all of the hell she endured on that day,” she remarks while chopping garlic.

“I hadn’t really thought about that. I suppose that could be true. I just figured since I’ve been trying to make a big deal of everything to make up for lost time that maybe she’s grown sick of my grand gestures.”

“I don’t think she could ever grow sick of you, Tristan, I just think she’s still hurting and that her birthday is the ultimate reminder.”

I sit in silence as Maddie makes dinner. Since Bentley insists on not doing anything for her birthday, I ask Maddie just whip up something so we could enjoy a quiet dinner. I found the perfect birthday present but I’m not sure she won’t flip out on me for giving it to her.

Aggie reminds me how diamonds are a girl’s best friend, but it’s different for Bentley since the diamond is also her birthstone. I found a book charm made outlined in diamonds and I thought it would make a nice addition to her bracelet. I ordered it long before I mentioned anything to Maddie, so now it’s just sitting upstairs until I know Bentley won’t freak when I give her it.

Bentley

We are sitting in the living room watching some stupid action movie and eating dinner. I was helping myself to another scoop of fettuccine when Tristan starts chuckling.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were eating for two,” he teases.

I look over at him puzzled, “What do you mean?” I ask, wondering why he would think that. Have I put on weight and not noticed?

“Baby, you’ve been eating a little extra with each meal now for the past week. Not that I’m complaining, I’m just saying is there something you need to tell me,” he jokes.

I pale considerably as I think about his question, and wonder if there is something I’m missing. I’ve had so many things happen this past year that it’s hard to even remember if I’m coming or going. When I think about it though, I remember something that makes me sick to my stomach.

I excuse myself and rush to the bathroom. I’m not feeling nauseous, yet everything I just ate decided this would be a good time to projectile itself into the porcelain throne that I’m hovering over.

How the fuck could I have been so careless? I know exactly what’s happening, but I doubt Tristan will be so understanding of it. He trusted that I was protected, and I wasn’t. The last thing I can handle is him thinking I purposely deceived him. He doesn’t know that I have an aversion to the idea of having children. After everything I’ve suffered and witnessed, I just don’t think I’m capable of loving someone in that way.

It was right after I settled into my cabin up north. I woke up in the middle of the night with terrible pelvic pains and ended up in the emergency room. The doctor informed me that the pains were caused by my IUD becoming dislodged, and that it would have to be removed
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I asked if it could just be replaced, but it had torn through some tissue that would need to heal first.

I had scheduled an appointment with a local O.B. but it was for three months out. It wasn’t a big deal at the time since I had no intentions of having sex. Unfortunately everything happened with Marco before that appointment and I never got my IUD replaced. It never even crossed my mind that I was missing my birth control.

What if I really am pregnant? What the fuck would I tell Tristan? I don’t think I’m capable of  raising a baby and even if he thinks I did it to trap him, I’m positive he’d never forgive me if I told him I don’t want to keep it. I overheard Marco and him talking about children on more than one occasion. Maybe he won’t want it now though…maybe since we’re just getting comfortable with each other again that he’ll think it’s too soon.

I sit on the bathroom floor crying hysterically. I can’t breathe as the panic washes over me. I’m hyperventilating and gasping for air as the fear I’m feeling seizes me.

There is no getting around this. I’ve grown so use to not having a cycle that it didn’t even occur to me when it stopped again. I know without having to take a test that one of my biggest fears is coming to pass.

I can’t hear the pounding on the door as I struggle to breathe. I’m curled in on myself when he breaks through the door.

“Baby what’s going on? What’s the matter?” he asks panicking, before falling to the floor and trying to pull me to him.

I can’t say anything, I can barely breathe as I shake and continue to sob.

“Bentley, baby, I was just joking. Whatever it is you're thinking, it’s not a big deal. I wasn’t trying to make you upset. Please talk to me,” he begs.

I try to make the words out but I can’t. They just come out a jumbled mess that makes no sense. I feel like the world is closing in on me. I’m so sure that if he knows the truth, the last thing he would be trying to do right now is comfort me. I don’t think I can feel any worse right now, but somehow he manages to prove me wrong with what he says next.

“Bentley, I love you, no matter what you think is so bad. I will always love you. I promised you I wasn’t going anywhere. I don’t care if you killed someone, I would still be by your side.”

I can’t keep the words from escaping my lips. I suddenly have a severe care of diarrhea of the mouth. “That’s not true, you’d hate me if I killed your baby,” I say before I can shut the fuck up.

He grows really still as he speaks. “What do you mean kill my baby? Did you have an abortion or something, Bentley? Is that why you’re in here freaking the fuck out? What the fuck did you do, Bentley?” he shouts angrily.

I shake my head back and forth, denying his accusation. “I haven’t done anything, Tristan, I didn’t even realize it until you said something. I’m so fucking sorry. I never meant for this to happen,” I cry.

“Never meant for that to happen? Is this about me or you Bentley? What are you sorry for? Are you pregnant? Is that what you’re trying to tell me? Is that why you’re in here crying, because you don’t want a baby with me?” he questions through gritted teeth.

I turn to face him. How could he ever think this is about him? He’s fucking perfect. He knows how to love unconditionally. He would make a wonderful parent. I’m the one who would fuck everything up.

I sit there on the floor and confess years’ worth of fears. How I don’t think I could ever love someone the way a parent should love their child. How I’m afraid that everything I have been through would influence and destroy any child I bring into this world. And my fear of him hating me for overlooking something with such big consequences.

By the time I’m done crying, I am emotionally exhausted, my face is swollen and blotchy, I can’t see straight, and I’m a hormonal head case. And to top it all off, his anger at the idea of my not wanting his baby has faded, as he sits here holding me and listens to be blubber like a fucking moron. My exhaustion eventually gets the better of me as I fall asleep on the floor.