Baby Love(19)

"Trey," I said, smiling up at him, "I think that is a great idea. Aren't your parents in Europe right now though?"

He raised my hand to his lips, lightly brushing them against it; his eyes never strayed from mine.

"I talked to my mother earlier this evening; she would absolutely love cutting their trip short in order to spend some time with us as long as you are okay with it."

"Well of course I am," I lied. "Preston needs some quality time with grandma and you know, you are probably right. I need to spend some quality time outside of this apartment and focusing on things other than the baby."

Trey pulled me to him, embracing me within his strong arms as I tried to swallow the lump of fear that was lodged within my throat





CHAPTER 7



When I awoke Preston was nuzzled against me. She must have awakened during the night. This seemed to be an every night occurrence nowadays. Trey must have brought her to me like always since he had banished her from our bedroom. That was his sole contribution to her feeding these days.

Her head was bobbing as she gently nursed from me. It was odd that I hadn't felt her latch on, but sometimes she nursed more gently than other times. I looked at the clock on our night stand. Shit! I needed to get up and be out and about on my business for the day. It seemed like all she ever wanted to do was eat!

I pulled her from my breast so that I could rise up off of my side into a sitting position. Her milk sopped mouth quivered with unhappiness. I threw my legs over the side of the bed. I wiped the sleep from my eyes still cradling her in my free arm.

She started fussing immediately, kicking her chubby legs up in the air in anger, catching me in the face with her foot. Shit! That hurt! I was not in the mood for one of her notorious hissy fits at the moment that was for sure. I laid her down across the bed, and rubbed my temples.

My head was pounding over the stress of the last few days with the news of Jean; Gina was still a mess, refusing to get out of her bed at home. There had been no further improvement in either of their conditions. If Jean didn't recover I would lose the only real help that I had with Preston; if Gina went over the deep end I would lose my BFF.

For now I wish I had Jean back so that I could focus on helping Gina. Preston had seemed to turn into one fussy, demanding baby overnight. I couldn’t visit Gina and have any type of conversation with a whiney baby constantly on my hip or hanging from my tit. Right now, she was into full blown wailing. I was grinding my teeth in stress.

I had had enough. Fuck breast-feeding. It seemed like I had lived with this baby attached to one of my tits for the last several months. She had sucked the life out of me. Her wailing was quickly grating on my nerves like fingernails raking down a chalkboard.

I looked at her as she writhed and squirmed on the bed, her face scrunched up and red with anger. Her hands were clenched up in little fists.

Something drove me to suddenly raise my hand back and slap it firmly against her cheek. I was desperate for something - anything to make her shut the f*ck up. I just couldn't handle it any longer!

The feel of my skin slapping harshly against her soft, baby skin was new to me. It stunned her I could tell. Her large blue eyes widened in surprise as she looked at me, crushed. She had never been slapped before. I had left a red hand print on her cheek. Perhaps it was time for her to realize that in life you don't always get what you want when you want it.

I looked at her with mixed feelings; some of it was disdain. Her chubby body was proof enough for me that she hadn't missed too many meals attached to my tit like she constantly seemed to be. She needed to know her limits.

She wailed in response to the slap. Large droplets of tears streaked paths down her cheeks. Good God; Trey would probably be racing in here now to see what the hell was going on. He hovered over me constantly watching me most of the time these days.

I drew my hand back once again, and struck her firmly across her other cheek. I heard the resounding echo of the slap. It knocked the air out of her wailing momentarily as her head snapped back against the bed. I kind of enjoyed the feeling that I got when I took control of the situation.

I finally picked her up off of the bed to change her diaper and get her ready so that she wouldn't delay me in getting my start for the day. She was still sobbing and crying when I placed her on the changing table in her room and removed her soaked diaper; she was sucking on her fist.

I clasped my hand around her ankles, raising her butt up in the air so that I could put a clean diaper underneath it with my free hand. She continued to whimper and pull her legs back from me, making it impossible for me to get the clean diaper affixed around her.

God I was so not in the mood for this today. I finally allowed her to succeed in freeing her legs from my grasp; she was kicking and sobbing. Her little arms reached up to me. She wanted me to pick her up; she still wanted the tit.

I flipped her over onto her belly, which now provided me full access to her bare bottom. I pummeled my open hand against the bare flesh of her butt again and again.

Listening to the sound of my skin slapping her skin reminded me of the sounds that I had often heard as far back as I could remember.

Sometimes they had brought me pain; other times only a feeling of fear and disgust. I looked down at the baby as my thoughts drifted back to the present. Her bottom was crimson red from my smacks. By this time she was shrieking in pain; her chubby legs were squirming against the pad of her changing table trying to scoot away out of my reach. She was scared of me. I found comfort in it for some reason.