14. Be My Baby, Tonight
14
BE MY BABY, TONIGHT
ANSEL
Y ou didn’t go to Celestine on any odd Tuesday for a meal, you came here for special occasions. Nestled along the Brooklyn waterfront, the restaurant had floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the East River. It was intimate without being stifling, refined without being pretentious—perfect for a celebration, like when your girlfriend receives her Master of Business Administration degree.
When I called Sanya and Penny to plan the dinner, they’d been excited—so much so that they insisted on splitting the bill. But I put my foot down. I had more than enough money, earned over the past few years in no small part because I had a kickass assistant who had kept me on top of my game. Covering this dinner was the least I could do.
It had been three months since Neha said we could date, and we were. I’d never had this much fun in a relationship. We were taking it easy, spending time together, getting to know each other and our families—but not yet jumping into bed. Though we made out plenty, and unexpectedly, the escalating sexual tension was sweet in its intensity.
Neha sat next to me, radiant, the kind of happy that settled into a person’s bones, made them feel lighter, like the world had finally shifted in their favor. And not just because she finished her MBA and had a great new job, she was happy because of me . She’d told me that, several times. But she still hadn’t told me she loved me, which for me was a prerequisite because I wanted her trust, all of it before we took that next step. I was waiting—hell, I’d wait forever as long as she was with me. I’d die of blue balls, but I’d be there until the bitter end with her.
“You did good, baby sister. Mummy would be proud.” Sanya held up a glass of champagne.
I slipped an arm around Neha when I saw her eyes fill. The sisters still talked about their mother Leela all the time, and I knew they missed her.
“To living up to Leela’s legacy,” Penny added, raising her glass alongside Sanya’s. “And to Neha, who’s making her own.”
Neha let out a soft, watery laugh, blinking quickly as she lifted her glass. “To Mummy,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. "And to all of you—for believing in me."
We clinked our glasses together.
Neha nestled against me, and I gave her a gentle squeeze. “I’m so fucking proud of you, baby,” I whispered.
She laughed, her fingers curling around the stem of her wine glass. The sound hit something deep inside my chest.
This was new and cherished—not just the dinner, not just my being here with her family and friends, but the dynamic between us.
She hadn’t forgiven me overnight—hadn’t been able to stop being afraid as she’d confided in me. It took a while before she agreed to date, before I stopped getting the death glare from Penny every time I walked into Sun & Chai, before Neha laughed with me.
We were building our relationship, and I knew it was more than I deserved.
I was one lucky son of a bitch.
“You must be relieved to be done.” Sanya reached for some bread and dipped it in olive oil. “I remember when I finished my master’s—I slept for two days straight.”
Neha let out a soft laugh. “Oh, believe me, I plan to. I told Leon I’m taking a few days off.”
“I hear so is Ansel,” Penny remarked. “What are your plans, Mr. Tyler?”
“My plans are to be at my woman’s beck and call.”
Neha’s eyes softened with affection. I held her gaze for a moment before she said, “Now that sounds interesting. You’ll do anything I want?”
“ Please , everyone keep it fucking PG around here,” Devlin joked.
It was a fabulous evening. After saying our goodbyes to everyone, I led Neha to my car. “Come back to my place for a drink?”
Tribeca was a good half-hour from Brooklyn, so she wasn’t under any illusions about what I was asking for.
I had expected hesitation, a reason why she couldn’t. But instead, she held my gaze for a beat and then nodded. “Yes.”
When I saw her in the middle of my minimalist Tribeca apartment, looking out through floor-to-ceiling windows at the city skyline, I felt like all my prayers had been answered.
The space was built for presentation rather than comfort, and for the longest time, I hadn’t minded that, but now I did. I was going to sell this place, I decided as I cupped Neha’s cheek. I’d find a home for us where we could live and have babies. “You surprised me tonight,” I confessed.
“How?”
“By saying yes.”
“I want this,” she said without hesitation.
My chest tightened. “I hurt you.” The words were low, rough, because even now, saying them out loud felt like shoving glass down my throat.
Her eyes flicked to mine. “Yeah, you did.”
“And I didn’t just hurt you. I dismissed you. I took you for granted. I was a selfish asshole, Neha.”
“You were never selfish…but yes to the asshole part,” she joked.
I let out a slow breath, raking a hand through my hair. “I was scared.”
“I know.”
“Of wanting you.” The truth slipped out before I could stop it. But I didn’t want to take it back. Not now. “I always have. From the beginning.”
Her breath hitched, and the air between us became thick and electric. Every molecule vibrated with the unspoken desire that had been simmering for weeks.
She was a fucking vision, her red dress clinging to her curves like it was painted on, her tits straining against the fabric, her nipples already hard pebbles begging for attention.
I felt predatory as I raked my eyes over her body, my cock already a steel rod in my pants, aching to be freed.
I wanted to say something, anything and then I thought, fuck that. In one fluid motion, I grabbed her by the waist, yanking her against me so hard she gasped.
“Tell me you love me.”
She looked at me, her eyes clear, her smile wide. “I love you.”
Our mouths crashed together in a messy, desperate kiss, tongues tangling like we were trying to drink each other in.
Neha moaned into my mouth, her hands clawing at my shirt, tearing it open as buttons flew across the room.
Her hands were cool against my bare chest, my muscles taut and slick with a thin sheen of sweat. Foreplay had been going on for months, and now we needed this!
I spun her around, pinning her against the wall of windows with my body, my erection pressing into her ass. She whimpered.
My hands were everywhere, groping her tits through the dress, then grabbing the hem to yank it up over her hips. I slid my hands under her panties to cup her.
“Fuck, you’re soaked,” I growled, grinding against her ass as my fingers teased her clit in rough, circular motions.
Neha cried out, her hips bucking against my hand, her back arching as I felt her pleasure ripping through her, pulsing.
“I need you inside me,” she panted, her voice a desperate plea.
I didn’t need to be told twice. I unzipped my pants with one hand, my cock springing free, thick and throbbing, the tip already slick with pre-cum.
I found a condom in my wallet, managed with shaking unsteady hands to cover myself.
“Hurry,” she protested.
I grabbed her hips, positioning myself at her entrance, and with a brutal thrust, I buried myself to the hilt in one go. Neha screamed as I bottomed out inside her.
“Look at us,” I ordered.
Her eyes lifted, and she saw our reflection on the mirrored window.
I plunged into her, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoed through the apartment, mingling with our moans and gasps.
My hands gripped her hips so hard I knew I’d leave bruises, but I didn’t care—I wanted my marks on her, wanted her to feel me even when I wasn’t with her. These emotions were primitive, foreign, but then I’d never made love with a woman I loved.
“You like that, baby?” I snarled, my cock pistoning in and out of her dripping pussy. “You like getting wrecked like this?”
“Yes!” she screamed, her nails scraping down the window as I felt her orgasm build, hot and unstoppable. “Fuck me harder!”
I obliged, my pace becoming more savage, my cock hitting her cervix with every plunge. Neha’s knees buckled, but I held her up, fucking her like a wild animal, my balls slapping against her ass.
She came with a scream, her pussy clamping down on my cock like a vice, milking me for everything I had.
With a grunt, I pulled out at the last second, flipping her around and dropping to my knees. My mouth found her pussy, lapping up her juices as she writhed above me, still trembling from her orgasm.
“Come on my mouth,” I ordered.
“I can’t, Ansel,” she sobbed.
“Yes, you can, baby. Come for me,” I cajoled licking sucking bringing her to peak again. Her thighs clamping around my head as she came, her screams echoing off the walls.
But I wasn’t done. Not even close.
I stood up, my cock still rock hard, and dragged her to the couch. “On your knees,” I growled, and she obeyed without hesitation, presenting her ass to me like a fucking offering. I shoved inside her from behind, my hands on her hips as I fucked her hard.
We rolled when she pushed against me, wanting to ride me and fell on the carpeted floor. She rose over me, cupping her breasts, looking like an Indian goddess, with her dark tipped nipples and golden-brown skin.
When I finally released inside the condom, I was shaking and so was she. “Wow, that was…wow.” She lay exhausted atop me on the floor by the couch.
“I wanted to do this in bed.”
“I think I like this better?”
I stroked her back. “You do?”
“It means you couldn’t keep your hands off of me.”
“As I remember”—I struggled to keep my happiness tamped down because I wanted to jump up and down like a lunatic—“you were the one who tore my shirt off me. You need to be a good wife and sew the buttons back.”
She stiffened, I knew, at the wife remark.
“Come on, baby, you know that’s where we’re headed,” I murmured.
She kissed my chest. “But not right now.”
“No, not right now.” But maybe in about six months or so .
I didn’t say that to her. I was going to just let this play out because I had faith in us.
“I love you, Ansel.”
“I know, baby. I love you, too.”
I couldn’t believe my luck! This gorgeous woman loved me. I wanted to get down on my knees and thank the universe for giving her to me.
She raised her head and looked at me. “You wanna fuck again?”
I chuckled. “Let’s do it in my bed this time.”