The Baby He Wants: A BWWM Pregnancy Romance (6 page)

"S'tight,"
he managed to gasp against Ava's ear, squeezing his eyes shut.
Ava
whimpered softly, hands scrabbling for purchase against the tile for
a moment, before her forehead dropped to rest against the tiles, and
she was panting as well, as she nodded her head with jerky movements.
"Tristan..."
Tristan considered stopping, but his body
wouldn’t let him as his hips start to rock against Ava's, and
he straightened back up to grab onto Ava's hips, pulling out almost
all the way and then pushing back in slowly. Ava's jaw dropped open
slowly as she groaned, her back arching again as she rocked back
against Tristan slightly. Tristan reached up to fist Ava's hair
again, pulling back slightly, his thrusts becoming faster, harder.
"Fuck, Ava... nngh, yeah," he moaned.
"Uhn..."
Ava moaned in response, and then shifted his arms to brace himself a
little better. "Fuck..." He groaned a little, biting his
lip, legs spreading wider, neck arched.
Tristan pushed forward
until Ava was almost completely pressed against the tiles, and then
grabbed her shoulders for leverage, angling his thrusts upward, soft
grunts and moans accompanying each thrust of his hips. "Yeah,
uhh," he panted. "Ungh, you feel so... mmm... good."
"Oh,
God..." Ava moaned loudly, squeezing her eyes shut as she tensed
every time Tristan thrust in.
Tristan pulled Ava's body flush
against his, jerking his hips a little, just enjoying the feeling of
being inside her and running his hands over her stomach and down to
her sensitive nub, stroking it as he groaned and panted in Ava's ear,
biting on her earlobe again, before licking a wet trail under it, and
pulling it into his mouth to suck on.
"Fuck..." Ava
panted softly, head tilting back to rest against Tristan's shoulder,
offering even more access.
Then, rather suddenly, Tristan pulled
out, turning Ava around and lifting her up in his arms and pressing
her into the wall, using one hand to help Ava hook one leg around,
before he guided himself back inside her, thrusting slow and
deliberate, showing off his He-man side once again.
Ava whimpered
a little before moaning loudly, her head falling back against the
tiles as her other leg came up to circle Tristan's hips as well,
hooking behind his legs, her hands gripping his shoulders tightly.
Tristan continued to thrust up against Ava again and again, careful
not to jar her back, and Ava started making low noises in her throat,
winding her arms around Tristan's shoulders more tightly, and rolling
her hips slightly to meet Tristan's thrusts.
Tristan grunted and
groaned with the effort of keeping Ava up while he was thrusting into
her, muscles in his neck, arms and shoulders stretched tight, face
and neck flushed deep red. It wasn't gonna take much more for him,
and he stuttered out a shaky moan, trying to warn Ava.
Ava just
hitched one leg up a little higher as she groaned again, lifting
herself a little bit to nip at Tristan's throat. She let out a soft
whine that switched to a moan before she stiffened and came, her
vagina clenching around Tristan's cock as she shuddered against
him.
Tristan felt Ava tighten around him, and his own body
immediately went rigid and he shuddered with his own release, his
head falling back as he came inside Ava, his eyes squeezed shut.
Ava
pulled back just enough to watch Tristan's face as he came, before
slumping against him slightly and panting softly into the crook of
his neck, one leg sliding down to touch the floor again.
Tristan
let go of Ava's other leg so he could get his footing, but held onto
her, worried it might have been too much and that Ava's legs may be
shaky. He nuzzled into her neck, before kissing along her jaw and
finally her lips, the kiss slow, meaningful, saying the words he was
not ready to voice.
Ava kissed Tristan back, staying close to him,
a little unsteady on her feet as one hand slid down Tristan's chest
to rest against his heart, the other hand curling around the back of
his neck as he tried to reciprocate the meaning.
After a few
moments of just pressing together and catching their breaths, Tristan
grabbed the body wash from the shelf behind him, and they slowly
lathered each other up, smiling and kissing between touches, before
taking turns to rinse themselves clean. It wasn't until they were out
of the shower that they finally start talking. Tristan grabbed two
towels and handed one over to Ava as he started to dry himself
off.
"Thanks," Ava said softly.
"You're
welcome," Tristan said as he wrapped his towel around his waist,
and then he looked a little sheepishly at Ava. "So... uh..."
There just didn't seem to be any words to express what this just
meant to him, so he just let his voice trail off, blushing a
little.
"Um... yeah," Ava agreed, wrapping her towel
around her chest, and then licking over her lips lightly.
"This
was a nice way to end a long day..." Tristan said, hoping to
lighten the moment and help them find their way back to the
comfortable place in their relationship. 
"Yes, it was,"
Ava answered, following Tristan as they walked into his
bedroom.
Tristan dropped his towel unashamedly, using it to towel
dry his hair as Ava moved to the other side of the bed, doing the
same. Neither of them say anything as they toss the towels a few
minutes later and each slide under the sheets. Tristan turned onto
his back and reached for Ava, pulling her over and against his body,
sighing softly.
Ava snuggled into Tristan a little more and pulled
Tristan's arm tighter around her as she rested her head down on his
chest. "Night, Tristan"
Tristan placed a soft kiss to
Ava's head, smiling a little. "G'night."

*****

The next
morning was awkward to say the least. Tristan was slightly hung-over
and Ava had no idea how to handle the walk of shame she had to do to
her trailer. Tristan invited her to stay for breakfast before she had
to go but Ava was afraid her trailer would be packed up with her
things still inside so she decided to leave at once.

“
So
you wanna like exchange phone numbers or something?” Tristan
asked as he escorted her to the door.

“
How
about I find you on Facebook?” Ava suggested wryly.

“
I’m
not on Facebook,” Tristan replied.

“
Oh.
Okay then yeah lets exchange digits,” she said digging out her
phone. They exchanged numbers and then Ava kissed him on the cheek.

“
Thanks
for an epic weekend,” she whispered in his ear.

“
Heck
no, thank
you,
”
Tristan said.

“
Don’t
be a stranger,” Ava said with a wave as she walked off.

“
Yeah.
You neither,” Tristan called after her.

*****

It blew
in on a cool breeze and a flutter of dead leaves, slipping past the
door of their apartment when Bob opened the door. He didn't notice a
damned thing, just kept going and let the door swing shut behind him
as he went for a bucket of ice.

They
never stood a chance.

It was
the color of dirt, dark and loamy, a little bit lumpy and gray in
patches. Ava first thought it was a crumpled plastic bag from the
local liquor store. Bob had one of his own on the nightstand, though
it was rather less beaten up and it definitely smelled better than
the thing that rolled across the floor. She didn't think anyone would
blame her if she beat it to death with a broomstick. It might be a
rat for all she knew though she and Bob kept their apartment pretty
clean and they hadn’t ever seen one before.

And
if it was just a plastic bag, well. No one was actually here to
see
her get spooked by trash. It came to an
abrupt halt in a way that a plastic bag blown in by what promised to
be one heck of an evening thunderstorm and sprawled out into the
shape of a jagged, lopsided star. Ava eased upright on the couch,
broomstick still raised, eyes narrowed. "I don't know what you
are," she growled. "But if you think you're going to try a
goddamn thing in here —"

One of
the points of the star twitched.

"Mew,"
said the thing.

Ava
blinked. She sniffed a few times — getting another nose full of
the rich, pungent scent the thing was putting off, like sour manure —
and frowned. "No," she said. "You're
not
a cat."

The
thing sneezed. A tiny, delicate little explosion of air that nearly
lifted it back up off the carpet where it sprawled.

"No,"
Ava said again. "See, that'd be
my
line. If you were a cat."

It
sneezed again and rolled over onto its back, tiny paws splayed in the
air. It opened its eyes, and an extraordinarily pink tongue crept out
to lick the spot where its nose was probably hiding, under the layers
of dirt and matted black fur. Ava scowled and leaned back, putting
the broomstick down on the floor next to her couch.

"That's
just gross," she told it. "You smell like you've been
swimming in a sewer."

"Mew,"
said the thing, and then it started putting out a tiny rumble, like a
car engine if the car were only six inches across, nose to tail.

"Son
of a bitch," said Ava. She cast around, then finally found one
of Bob's socks — which smelled at least fractionally better
than the thing on the floor did — and used it to scoop the
thing up by the middle. It blinked at her and yawned, showing off an
impressive row of needle sharp fangs. Then it licked its nose again.

"Yeugh,"
Ava said, screwing up her nose and holding the thing at arm's length.
"Look," she said. "You don't have to go home, but you
can't stay here." She eased the door open, leaning out just far
enough to check for anyone in the corridor, especially Bob —
and then stepped out just far enough to set the thing down in the
middle of the floor, near the fire escape. It patted at the floor
with its paws before hopping away from her hand and pouncing on a
freaking figment of its imagination. Ava looked down the corridor to
see if Bob was on his way back. There was no one around all the way
down to the floor to ceiling windows at the end of the corridor.

The sky
lit up brilliant blue. Ava watched and counted automatically, an old
habit borne of long nights mastering her childhood fear of
thunderstorms. Fall was just setting in and freak thunderstorms were
not unheard of this late in summer. The thunder rolled in before she
got to three. A gust of wind shook the windows slightly, blowing a
cold breezed down the corridor. Ava shivered.

Definitely
in for a doozy.

She
glanced back down. The little black thing had skittered off, probably
to find another cow patty to roll around in. Ava rolled her shoulders
back, enjoying the break from the sweltering heat she had been
swimming through all day, then turned and headed back into the
apartment.

And
nearly killed herself trying to dodge stepping on the tiny black
thing prancing around in the living room.

"Son
of a bitch!"

"Mew!"

Ava
stared at the black cat with disbelief; she really wasn’t a cat
person. For one thing, they made her sneeze. For another she was too
busy to look after it.

"Ice
machine's as busted as the fridge," Bob said as he came back in.
"Guess we're stuck with warm beer, tonight." Ava heard him
pause by the door, letting the latch click before he moved away.
"What happened here?"

Ava
leaned back out of the little sink alcove, where she had the little
black thing tucked into a nice soapy bath. "Don't freaking ask."

"Uh,
little late," said Bob. "Jesus, is that
you
,
Ava? I told you not to eat from that taco truck."

"Ha,"
Ava said, turning back to where she was using Bob's toothbrush to
scrub between the little black thing's ears. "I think it got
stuck in a sewer drain or something."

". . .
It?" Bob asked, creeping closer. "Creeping" was
definitely the word for it. He was practically sidling, hands open
and ready at his sides.

"It
thinks it's a cat," Ava said.

"Mew,"
agreed the black thing.

"Thinks
it's a cat?" Bob repeated, finally coming up behind Ava, close
enough to lean over her shoulder. "Or
is
a cat?"

Ava
looked down at the little black thing, now revealing itself to be
entirely black and entirely fuzzy, once all the dirt and dust were
washed off. It had four legs, all of them attempting to thrash their
way out of the soapy water even as Ava held it down with only the
barest pressure on its tiny little shoulders. It had a long tail —
comparatively, anyway, at least half the length of its whole body —
and large, pointy ears, currently flattened back against its skull.
It had seemed content enough to sit quietly once she got the
washcloth over its shoulders, but now that it had a new audience, it
was mewling plaintively, one tiny paw stretching out towards Bob as
if pleading for mercy.

"It
can't be a cat," Ava said. "I'm not sneezing."

"It's
wet," Bob said. "Cat allergies are triggered by dander. You
know, dry skin."

Ava
stared down at the thing in the sink.

"Let
me guess," said Bob. "It followed you home, and now you
want to keep it."

"Son
of a bitch," said Ava.

"Mew,"
said the cat.

*****

It was a
damned scrawny thing. Ava could wrap her thumb and forefinger around
its waist without really trying, even with the washcloth still
wrapped around it. She scooped it up once she was reasonably sure she
had all the dirt and crap washed off of it and wrapped it up in one
of the hand towels. It let out that tiny purr again, its eyes falling
half shut, its mouth cracking just barely open. It leaned into the
press of her finger as she tried to rub the fur on its cheeks dry,
and the purr cranked itself right up to eleven. She cradled it
carefully in both palms, still keeping the towel between herself and
its actual fur, and set it down carefully on the counter.