Fox & Hound: Part Twelve
The last thing Monica, an Afro-American woman, wanted was a last night pub crawl with people she hardly knew until she was introduced to Scott, a tall, devilishly stunning man. As the night quickly progressed they find themselves exploring their sexual limits....
Finally, Scott’s utter lack of compunction and grace under pressure proved itself useful!! Monica wrote off his abrupt outburst as some sort of manic fit brought on by the taxing events of the day. He couldn’t have been more grateful. It was as if she’d hit the ‘do-over’ button and he was back in the game. Not that his offer wasn’t sincere, it was. However, urine samples and propositioning the love of your life reeked of desperation and self-loathing, neither of which applied to him.
It was a quarter after one when Anna came bounding through Sharon’s door, a little saddened to see Sharon asleep as she’d yet to speak to her. She sat a vase of flowers on the bedside table and greeted Scott and Monica who were snuggled together on the settee.
“Kevin’s next door talking to Willow,” Anna said quietly.
“No need to whisper,” Scott said. “She’s sedated.”
Anna looked around the room. “Where’s Grant?”
“He went to check on his mother. He’ll be back shortly, and then we’re going home.” Monica stood and stretched. “Coffee?” she offered.
“Yeah, please.” Scott answered and Monica grabbed her purse and left for the café downstairs.
Anna turned her eye to Scott slumped where Monica had once sat. She bit back the words she’d come so ready to expel, the words that had almost come tumbling out of her mouth. Scott, of all people, would understand her vacillation. But would he trust her again? In Anna’s mind, the answer was a big fat no. She wouldn’t trust her. Lying is one thing but possible without evidence that may or may not send Anthony to jail for the rest of his life was another. Hell, she didn’t know what was in the luggage he brought with him from Macon. The damn thing had been sitting in the spare room since the day he arrived and every time she went near it Anthony turned into Mister from The Color Purple “Don’t you touch this here mailbox. I done fixed it so I know when it been messed with.”
For all she knew it could be anything or nothing at all. But she placed her bets on its contents having to do with his attempted murder BS which inspired his sudden flight to Atlanta. Could she be held accountable? The apartment was in her name not his. She took one look at Sharon sleeping and it didn’t matter. She’d at least point the hounds in the right direction.
“Undeliverable,” Joy shouted into the phone. “I have three events tonight and you’re canceling! What am I supposed to do for staff? We’re stretched thin and my guys can’t be everywhere at once.” She tried valiantly to keep the boat afloat while Monica and Sharon were away but operating on half staff and even less office space was unbearable. Following Kevin’s advice, Joy and the staff moved into three small offices while the police investigation was underway. By noon everyone was bickering, and the staff setting up Monica’s LA office called hourly for updates. And then, to make matters worse, in walked KC and Cody. A quick deduction of their somewhat questionable attire left Joy with the impression they’d come to pick around the farmyard for gossip like hens. Oh brother! Joy tried to slam her office door before they entered. No such luck, they were in. Let the clucking begin.
Joy gave her “Don’t start” speech and sat behind her desk and made peace with her misery. But in some rare hint of sympathy they came offering their assistance instead of annoyance. Joy’s mouth was still agape when Cody leapt from his seat and marched into the adjacent office to sort out the employee’s persistent calling. No doubt feelings were hurt in the process as he had a special way of dealing with troublesome underlings. Meanwhile, Joy gave KC the bad news: the staffing agency cancelled due to overbooking.
“Shit,” KC sighed mulling over the projects in front of her. “Those cocks couldn’t organize a bum rape in a barracks.”
“Tell me about it.”
“We don’t have enough people.” KC grabbed her purse and fished for her phone. “My crew will be there handling the floral arrangements. I’ll ask them to stay on and backup your team. That’ll give us twenty-five extra people we can divide between the three events. Where’s Anna?”
“She’s taking sometime off.” Joy said as she scribbled a note.
“Good to see she’s working just as hard as I am.” KC said sarcastically. There was no love lost between them. “Cody!” she called out. “Do you have any staff you can spare?” she asked when Cody appeared in the doorway with his hands on his hips, none too happy to hear his name being yelled. “We need a backup crew for tonight’s parties.”
“I can spare fifteen and I’m sure I can scrap up another ten from around town. You know folks won’t leave Monica hanging. Shit … not if they know what’s best for them!”
“Thanks Cody,” Joy said thoughtfully. “I mean it.”
“No problem,” Cody said. “We look out for one another. It’s a shame Anthony didn’t know who he was messing with.”
“He’ll get what he deserves.” Joy flipped through the contact list on her cell and looked up when Cody gave a hardy laugh.
“Girl please! He’s dead meat. We’ve already put out the word. Folks from the old neighborhood started a pool to see which cousin or baby-daddy will get to him first. My money’s on Peanut…that crazy bastard has nothing to lose!” He laughed again and left.
It didn’t surprise Joy that Monica and Sharon’s old friends were there in their time of need…it rather touched her. They held sway and clout but underneath the designer clothes Monica and Sharon were still the two girls from the projects who’d made something of themselves and neither forgot or denied from which they came.
The sun barely kissed the treetops as Mr. Fitz looked through the heavily curtained window out across his vast estate. This was all supposed to be his late sons’ inheritance but it wasn’t to be. No amount of love or compassion could heal a man resigned to a life of desolation and there was only so much a parent can do for their children. It is only when all earthly resources have been exhausted that a parent lets go and places their children in God’s hands and strives to find a measure of solace. Mr. Fitz hadn’t given up on his son, but with his death, Mr. Fitz had given up a little on himself.
Yet, standing there in the wake of another life threatening event, he smiled in a way he hadn’t in years. Through the adversities of his yesterdays, through the darkness of his night, the sun rose and fell not because he willed it do so—rather it was the nature of existence itself.
“From the darkness a new day begins,” he mumbled.
“Excuse me?” Grant asked from Mr. Fitz’s desk.
“Nothing.” He quickly composed himself and walked over to Grant.
“All done.” Grant slid him a pen and the document he’d been working on. “Sign for me and I’ll get these over to Barry.”
Mr. Fitz scribbled him signature and sat proudly. Out of the corner of his eye Grant could be seen shaking his head. “What?”
“You gave him everything.” Grant grinned.
“Would you have expected anything less?”
“No,” Grant said thoughtfully. “You’re not that kind of person.”
“Well, we’re not dead yet and I don’t want them knowing about it. You know how they are. They can’t accept anything—let it be a surprise. After the ball and chain and I are gone, he and Monica will have something to look forward to. And Barry will help him manage the estate.”
“How do you know Monica will say yes?”
“Please!” Mr. Fitz snorted. “Our worry is that he doesn’t do anything stupid in the meantime.”
Kevin paced up and down the hallway with his phone pressed to his ear. He’d sat with Willow as she typed her account of the prior evening. As hoped and without encouragement, she confirmed what the surveillance video showed: she’d come into the building and lobby unchecked by security. The security guards were only alerted to her presence when she tracked them down. No one, not even the doorman was on post.
“Damn it!” Kevin said aloud startling the nurses at their station. “Sorry,” he said as he walked into Sharon’s room. “We hit a roadblock.” He said to a barely lucid Scott.
“What?”
“I’m trying to get a search warrant for Anthony’s apartment but the damn judge is stalling.”
Anna chimed in. “I can let you in. It’s my place. There are four months left on the lease. I’m the lease holder not him.”
And then there was light.
“Why didn’t you say anything before now?” Scott came to.
“No one asked.” Anna shrugged.
“Anna, I could kiss you.” Kevin said with more animation than anyone had seen from him. “Come on. We’ll call my guy from the car.” Anthony wouldn’t make it to trial but if there was evidence linking him to the crime at least the victim and her family would finally have closure. And closure seemed to be the order of the day.
“Wait, I can’t leave Sharon.” Scott pointed out.
Kevin ran next door, grabbed Willow’s elderly aunt, planted her in the chair beside Sharon’s bed with the TV remote and a twenty for her trouble, and waved for Scott to follow him. And he did.
******
Grant came upon his mother and Mrs. Fitz chatting in her study. No doubt they were running damage control. Frankly, WASPs are guarded; what happens inside of the compound stays inside the compound. And the speed and efficiency by which they close ranks is practically occult. If the tiniest morsel of private information was leaked to the public it goes without saying that it was done purposely and after much forethought.
Such was the world from which Grant hailed. Protective. Guarded. Closed. Self-contained and self-important. Yet this was the world it seemed anyone trying to make a name for themselves took pains to enter. The inhabitant, the WASP, happily condescended to a poor soul’s obvious efforts to appear as something different than what they were, to imitate their manners and ways because it entertained them like a child playing dress up in their parents’ clothing: cute and fun for a while but an ill-fit.
Witnessing seemingly intelligent people kowtow to a WASP simply because of their breeding used to trouble Grant. Even as a youngster Grant was treated differently, more so by those he later came to recognize as social climbers. It was sad when the social climbers realized their overenthusiastic hospitality towards the WASPs was only looked upon as an acknowledgement of their superiority.
Luckily, his family and close relations were of a different stock-- one which favored social works rather than idleness. However, there was one commonality Grant wouldn’t subvert for anything in the world: their loyalty to one another. An affront on one is an affront on all. And this isn’t taken lightly…ever.
Anthony, the daft prick, was about to have his testicles handed back to him on a heirloom silver platter.
“I’m leaving.” Grant rounded the doorway but didn’t step inside the room. “Monica needs to be relieved.” His brow furrowed when his mother slyly tucked a slip of paper out of sight. Mrs. Fitz’s nervous cough did little to cover her trail of guilt. “I’ll send the car back if you’d like.”
“No, we’re staying in.” Mrs. Fitz eyes darted. “There are enough people in and out of Sharon’s room. We’ll sit tight.”
“Yeah, well, I’m staying with Sharon tonight so don’t wait up.” Grant decided it was best he didn’t know what they were up to. There’s nothing worse than a pissed off WASP mother and her devilish sidekick. Too much money … too much time … too many contacts … yep, someone was gonna bleed.
“Who the hell are you?” were the first words out of Sharon’s mouth when she awoke to Auntie grinning at her. Grinning was all she did, she never spoke a word. “Well, alright then.” Sharon looked suspiciously out of the corner of her eye as if the little old white lady to her right was a drug induced hallucination. Thankfully, Monica returned a few minutes later and introduced Auntie and planted herself on the settee.
Still Auntie said nothing. Murder She Wrote took center stage.
“How is everything going?” Sharon asked Monica. They hadn’t had a real conversation since she’d been in the hospital.
“Joy is running the show. Cody and KC are helping her with tonight’s events and my office is almost ready so…” she shrugged.
“So when you are you leaving?” Sharon asked bluntly as this wasn’t a topic Monica wanted to confront least of all under the current circumstances. “I’m headed to New York as soon as the doctors release me.”
“Do we have to talk about this right now?” Monica rolled her eyes in Sharon’s direction. “We have company for goodness sake.”
Sharon looked at Auntie. Auntie pursed her lips and turned her attention back to the television.
“What happened? Did Scott ask you to marry him?”
Monica laughed. “I think he meant to ask but it was too rushed and he obviously wasn’t prepared. I let him off the hook. He’ll try again in a few days and I’ll say yes. I hope he’s ready to move to LA.”
“His semester is almost complete and his job…”
“His job?!” Monica interrupted. “He’ll have to quit his job regardless. I can handle being apart until his term is over but he’ll have to quit working immediately.”
It took a second for Sharon to realize that Monica was dead serious. “Mon, you can’t ask him to quit overnight.”
Monica sat up. “Why not? I don’t wanna be in California worried about him getting burnt to a crisp—remember, he’s flammable! At least give me the consolation that he’s not in harms way.”
“She has a point,” Auntie chimed in. All eyes fell on her. “Well, I’d better be going now. Willow will be looking for me.” She stood, kissed Sharon and left.
“Great!” Sharon huffed. “Your bad attitude ran Auntie off.”
“Bitch, don’t make me throw something at you.”
“I wish you would!” Sharon snapped playfully and then moaned as pains pierced her side. “I guess that’s what I get for being hardheaded.”
It seemed like the entire Atlanta police force was fanned out across Anna’s apartment. Not that she minded of course. The more the better…maybe one of them would find Anthony’s mystery bag and clear her conscious. Three officers went into her spare room. YES! she thought, certain they’d retrieve the bag. NO!! she screamed when they didn’t. With Scott outside talking on the phone with Case, Anna sneaked down the hall. From the doorway, she peeked into the room for the first time in months. Damn it! He cleaned the place. It’s gone. She raced from room to room searching high and low for the bag.
Kevin came upon a pair of legs dangling from underneath a bed like the Wicked Witch of the East. “Anna?” He tugged her legs until she was free of the bed. Avoiding her kicks, he took her by the waist and set her on her feet. “Calm down.”
“It’s here! I know it’s here!” Anna dove again. This time Kevin caught her before she wiggled her shoulders under the bed.
“What are you talking about?” He secured her head between his palms.
“There’s a navy blue duffle bag missing,” Anna said through her teeth so no one else would hear. “Anthony used to keep it in the other room. I was never allowed to touch it. It may be exactly what you’re looking for.”
“Why didn’t you mention this earlier?” Kevin’s nostrils flared and his lips thinned to a perfect line. “Did it slip your mind?”
Anna didn’t offer an excuse as his anger was justified. “I’ll show you where it was.” She took his hand. In the spare room she pointed. “It used to sit right there. He never moved it and I have no idea what was inside. But whatever it was he guarded it with his life. It’s a medium size blue duffle bag with white lettering.”
He’s not that smart. Kevin searched the small room. He’s a product of the CSI generation, fucking delusional. He went to the closet and stepped inside. Empty. If I were borderline retarded, where would I hide a bag? He looked up, and with one hand pushed a ceiling tile from its position. “Dumbass, undone by your total lack of imagination.” He removed the tile and felt around the space until his fingers touched what appeared to be a canvas. “Anna, run and get one of my guys.”
Based on the victim’s testimony, they determined the contents of the bag were exactly what they’d been looking for and linked Anthony to the crime in Macon. At least the victim and her family would have closure. Now Kevin could focus his attention on exposing Morton-Bedford.
To Scott’s amazement. Monica hadn’t called Joy for an update on the functions or insisted on returning to the hospital since they’d been home. This wasn’t the same woman he’d met over a year ago. The old, maternal Monica would’ve run herself crazy tending to everyone else’s needs and juggling her work. But the new Monica didn’t usurp the old; on the contrary, the two intermingled to forge a stronger, happier Monica. She’d turned a corner and was at peace with herself—all of her.
Scott hoped against hope she hadn’t lost her Diva qualities. He rather enjoyed them; they complimented her altruistic nature and definitely added spice to sexy-time. He didn’t want a dull wallflower for a wife. He wanted the voluptuous, self-confident woman who turned every man’s head when she walked into the pub the night they met. Hell, under the right conditions, her razor sharp wit and lack of verbal filter served the greater good.
But above all, Scott was certain of her love for him. Unlike Courtney who professed her undying love while blowing another guy, Monica rarely said “I love you”. When all was said and done, the words really didn’t matter or play a significant part in their lives. Courtney had proven the words themselves were hollow without the weight of true affection. And unrepressed true affection is what Monica demonstrated when mere words were superfluous.
Frankly, Scott was the most ineffably attractive creature Monica had the satisfaction of bedding. She hadn’t slept with great swaths of men but the ones who had climbed Pleasure Mountain ranged from well studied to remedial. There was one who, in a moment of Oscar worthy growling theatrics, ripped the condom from his spastic wanker and did his business on her stomach. He sputtered … he shimmied and he shook…and then to Monica’s horror he dissolved into sobbing lamentations of her greatness. Compelled by sheer awkwardness, she patted his shoulder and tried not to laugh, which was next to impossible given that she was naked and glistening with man goop.
Scott, thankfully, was different. Their first coupling was in every sense of the term, a fight for survival. Scott came with the sole purpose of marking his territory and reducing her to howling banshee-like guttural screams. He was painstakingly passionate; he fucked like fucking was a paradoxical jigsaw puzzle: infinite in scope. He made love to her entire being and left no part of her, inside or out, uncared for. It took her to places she’d never been and by the end of the night it was she who dissolved into shuddering sobs.
It’s funny how fate brings people into your life. Monica wasn’t looking for love—Scott was supposed to be a one-night stand, something ‘to do’. Though they hadn’t slept together in the months that followed that night and talked only briefly and sporadically, he never entirely left her thoughts. Physically, Monica understood her attraction to Scott but there was something else, something that interested her about him. Slowly, as their friendship and relationship grew, it all became clear: he was unaffected by her lifestyle and he could care less whose numbers were in her little black book. He loved her but he didn’t love her enough to watch her self-destruct. When he broke up with her she wasn’t surprised. She had found a man with enough balls to walk away from a good thing with the woman he loved in order to create something greater for the both of them.
Funny …
“You know, there’s no word in the English language that embodies the act of sex which one neither explicitly authorizes nor specifically prohibits.”
Scott’s cock left Monica’s mouth with an audible pop and their eyes met. “And here I was thinking all men enjoyed spontaneous head. Guess not. I’ll stop.” She attempted to rise from between his legs but he rather ungraciously captured her head before she could move a muscle.
“I’m not complaining.” He watched the mushroom tip of his cock disappear between Monica’s lips and groaned. “Shit, you can take it whenever you want it.”
“Whenever I want it? Are you sure about that?” Her hand stroked him slowly as she licked the one spot that never failed to curl his toes.
“Monica,” he said raggedly. “If I could unscrew my shit for you to keep in your purse for dick sucking emergencies, I would.” Yes, it was crude and no, he didn’t care. “God, woman!” The room began to spin and tiny flashes of light danced on the ceiling in sync with her slurping. This wasn’t the romantic evening in which he planned to ask the love of his life to marry him. No, it wasn’t supposed to happen this way. He gripped the sheets as she continued to bob for semen. “Damn, Mon.” He pumped as she sucked him to the brink of flooding her throat. Abruptly, he pulled his cock free, leaving Monica stunned.
“If you’re going to ask me to marry you then I accept...” She sat back on her knees and smiled. “…on the condition you quit your job immediately and move to LA at the end of the semester.”
Scott wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of knowing he’d resigned only hours beforehand. He decided to toy with her. “And if I don’t quit, then what?” he asked dryly.
Monica climbed up his body, her thighs brushing against his until they were eye to eye. “Then I won’t marry you.”
God, she’s beautiful when she’s acting like a bitch. Scott smiled as his fingers teased gently through Monica’s hair. “Come here,” he all but whispered. One hand slid across her back, down to her ass, pressing her against him as he kissed her softly, sensually, their lips caressing one another’s, his tongue tasting hers.
He felt her melt and she made no attempt to resist him. He slipped one of his thighs between hers as their kiss deepened; his cock was erect and pressed between them. Monica moaned a brief protest before tasting him again. She craved him as much as he craved her. “Are you wet, baby?” Scott asked kissing her neck.
“Yeah,” Monica panted and closed her eyes, willing him to touch her.
He pushed her gently onto her back, leaned over her, and reclaimed her lips more passionately. His hand slid over her belly, drifted up to her breast and squeezed gently, his fingertips caressed her hardened nipple as his tongue dipped into her mouth eliciting a heavy moan from her.
His hand roamed down her tummy and stole away between her thighs as they parted and welcomed his fingers to do as they pleased. They brushed pass her clit teasingly, stroking it lightly in retreat. She kissed his lips and smiled up at him before he broke their gaze and kissed and nibbled his way down her neck.
One tiny gentle bite after another educed gasp after gasp until she felt his playful fingertips rhythmically stroking her clit—then and only then did she stop breathing all together and begin moving in rhythm with his strokes. His lips traveled down her neck and over her collarbone but she could feel them everywhere; down they moved, down further still—his kisses petite and tempered until they reached her breasts.
He licked longingly around each nipple, and she arched from the bed, wanting more. He took her aroused nipple between his lips, into his mouth, swirled it with his tongue and sucked and lapped until Monica’s head eased back into her pillow. His fingertips, wet with anticipation, slipped between the wet lips of her pussy. He loved the way they felt parting around his finger. “Damn, you’re so wet.” He lapped at her nipple and rewarded her with a second finger. Eager for more, she tightened around his digits as he teased her folds, dipping patiently and giving her just enough to leave her wanting more before returning to the rhythmic plucking of her clit.
“Oh God!” Monica groaned trying to register all the sensations he produced. His suckling mouth on her breast, his massaging fingers in her pussy, his fingertips skidding her clit. It was more than she could take—she needed him inside of her.
“Fuck, I need to taste you.” Monica heard Scott mumble as he kissed a trail down her belly until she felt his warm breath between her thighs and his hands parting her legs. She groaned softly, her body arched while one of her hands slid through his dark hair and the other parted her labia, offering herself to his lips, his tongue, and his fingers.
It’s a sight he can’t resist. He moved closer, her hand still in his hair, pulling his lips to her, he slid his tongue lingeringly up her wet slit. The feel of her lips parting around his tongue was orgasmic. With each swirl of his lips across hers Monica gasped and tugged at his hair until his tongue did that little flicking trick where he tasted her pussy, her spot and her clit simultaneously. He held her thighs in place and sucked deliciously at her clit as she bucked. Her body’s reaction to his ministrations telegraphed her needy desire to be fucked.
Monica collapsed screaming and crying his name repeatedly until her linguistic paeans morphed into something utterly indistinguishable to the human ear. Scott was in heaven seeing his Monica, his beautiful wife-to-be, lapped and fingered into orgasmic retardation.
“Talk to me, baby.” His tongue rapidly licked her wetness. “Tell me what you want.”
There was a tremble and a “fuucugghhawd!”
“Sweetheart, that’s not even a word,” His fingers hooked inside of her, penetrating deeper, stroking her g-spot. “You’ll have to do better than that.” His lips and tongue returned greedily to her clit. He licked and sucked and lapped up her wetness as it dribbled from her.
Physically, Monica was in bed with Scott’s face deep between her gaping legs, groaning and gasping, pulling at his hair, choking and damn near in tears. But, mentally, she was a million miles away. All that she felt, all that mattered was concentrated below her waist being mauled by her man. Blood rushed in her ears, her heart pounded in her chest, the room seemed heavy … and then his lips softly engulfed her clit, sucked it oh so tenderly and whispered a single word onto her lips, sending her into an operatic orgasm.
“Cum,” he ordered. He felt her start to cum immediately … she came hard and wet, screaming and writhing. Her walls sucked and squeezed around his fingers, her body convulsed as she cried out his name, her thighs clamped around his back, her hands gripped his hair as he continued to lap her juices until she fell still. This was heaven, kissing his woman’s pussy after she’d cum all over his face.
It was at these fragile moments as they emerged from their pre-coital drowse that speech became inadequate. Scott rose and covered Monica with the duvet. By the time he returned from the bathroom, she was curled in the fetal position. He held her and swore she was asleep until he heard her speak, though he couldn’t make out a word she was saying. He assumed it was about their impending engagement or maybe about Sharon. He didn’t ask.
“Scott, did you hear me?” Monica asked minutes later.
“No, what’d you say?”
Her voice was small and sheepish. “I want it in my ass.”
“Damn, woman!” he said partly in jest but mainly because he loved when she talked dirty. “Roll onto your stomach and close your eyes,” he ordered with an almost growl.
Monica complied gleefully; she loved when he was in an anal mood but she was a little disturbed when he slipped from bed. He returned, pulled her up on all fours, and positioned her at the end of the bed. There she was, bent over in all her expectant, drippy glory.
Scott leaned over her, his taut stomach on her back. He put his lips near her ear, clasped the curve of her ass, slipped a vibrating bullet in her pussy and said lowly, “Tell me what you want.”
What the hell! Monica gasped; the bullet danced her to an orgasm before he finished his sentence. All bets were off. The coolness from the lube he applied heightened her arousal to the point she began chanting like a common street whore. “I need to be fucked in my ass. I need to feel your cock filling me.” She pushed back into him.
“Patience. You can’t rush genius.” He pushed the head of his cock hard against her asshole. Inch by inch, he penetrated her slowly.
Her breathing turned ragged. The bullet hummed in her pussy. Scott stroked long and deep in her ass. She rubbed tiny circles on her clit and willed herself to endure torture … or cum …whichever came first.
Scott pulled her cheeks apart like two halves of a ripe peach and watched his cock pump in and out of her welcoming hole. Below, he saw her perfectly manicured fingers masturbating while the vibrator had its way. God, he loved seeing her play with herself. The wet slick sounds from her slit, her groaning guttural directives, and the sight of his cock getting her off had him on the ropes. He leaned over her, his hand found hers and rubbed in sync. His cock throbbed hard in her ass, she cried helplessly soaking his hand. “You’re cumming….Oh fuck!” he slipped his fingers in her pussy and felt her suck, suck, and suck around them until he released long spurts in her ass. Monica shuddered under him, cumming hard on the vibe ... on their hands … their bodies locked together, seized by spasm … until they were spent.
Having cleaned up, Scott lay draped across the bed, exhausted. Monica came from the bathroom and lay beside him and admired his long thick angelic eyelashes. He didn’t move or protest when she began playing with them. She kissed his warm cheek and whispered, “I love you.”
Scott peered at Monica through cracked eyes and smiled faintly. “Do you love me enough to marry me?”
“Do you love me enough to quit your job?” She curled into his heat.
“Yes, I do. I resigned earlier.”
“In that case, yes, I will marry you.” She chuckled. “I would’ve said yes regardless.”
Scott threw the duvet over them. “Your diamond just got a whole lot smaller.”
******
It was after midnight when Kevin hit the ‘send’ button effectively shooting his report to his superiors. The leg of his work with Anna was at an end; thereafter, she’d be working with the DA’s office. God help them, he thought. Anna was a handful. Her newfound self-confidence and esteem was a force to be reckoned with. In her, Kevin still saw a youthful innocence that seemed untarnished by her past. Maybe it was he who was jaded or maybe he’d underestimated her strength. Within seconds of their meeting, he’d marginalized her: she was a twenty-one year old child, she was attractive, she had an attitude, and she asked too many damn questions.
He was wrong. That child was a young woman coming into herself.
“Are you coming to bed?” Anna asked Kevin as she turned out the kitchen light.
He looked up from his laptop and closed it. “No, I’m going home.” He stood and gathered his belongings. “Anthony is in custody so you no longer need me here.”
“What?” Anna panted. His unexpected declaration sent the air rushing from Anna’s lungs and her brow furrowed. She hoped he wanted to stay rather than being there simply because it was his duty. Yes, he could be surly but she enjoyed his company. It never dawned on her that he may not have enjoyed hers. A flash of heat from the open pit of embarrassment in her stomach seared her cheeks. “Right, okay.” She smiled weakly and coughed fakely. “You have other things to do.”
Though she tried gallantly to cover her initial reaction Kevin wasn’t fooled. In fact, he felt a little silly himself for not realizing his presence wasn’t the inconvenience he believed it to be. “I can stay if you’d like. I’m not expected in the office tomorrow.”
It’s now or never, Anna told herself as she closed the distance between her and Kevin. She gazed up into his dark eyes and gently removed his laptop from his hand and placed it on the coffee table. She smiled seductively and took his hand. “Come to my room.”
What am I doing? Kevin allowed himself to be lead, his heartbeat quickened, anticipating the pleasures to come. We’re definitely not having sex.
In the room Anna drew the curtains. “You can get dressed for bed.”
Though a little confused, Kevin didn’t question her. He readied himself for bed as he’d done the night before; he donned sleeping pants and grabbed his book while Anna climbed in bed looking like the yellow one himself. “Good Heaven, Sponge Bob.” Kevin’s jaw dropped when he turned to find Anna standing before him wearing nothing but a yellow pair of hip hugging boy shorts. His eyes wandered over every curve and angle of her petite frame. She had the perfect pair of teardrop breasts. Do Not Have Sex With Her!
“You like?” she asked, her hands on her hips.
“Um ... crap … um Anna, I can’t …”
“Why?” she stepped closer until they stood toe to toe. Her hand grazed lustfully between his thighs, through his pants. She didn’t break his eye contact. His thickness felt heavy under her hand. She whimpered with an urgent need to feel him deep inside of her. “Are you seeing someone?”
“Um, no, but … shit,” Before he could finish his thought she leapt to his waist and kissed him frantically. He dropped his book, cupped her tiny ass and held her in place. “This is so unprofessional.” He muttered between kisses. “I shouldn’t be doing this.” He broke away from her lips and she continued to kiss his neck. “You’re vulnerable. I can’t take advantage of you.”
Anna stopped cold and once again her cheeks burned with heat. Had she gotten it wrong—had she gotten him wrong? She felt too ashamed to go on yet too ridiculous to move.
Kevin felt her go limp and regretted his brash words. He wanted it but not like this. “I’m sorry, Anna. I can’t.” He kissed her lips tenderly and placed her on her feet. She crawled in bed without meeting his eyes. He hung his head and took a deep breath. “I can stay.”
She rolled away from him.
Stupid! He kicked himself and climbed under the covers and Anna snuggled her back into his chest. “Anthony is the only man you’ve slept with, right?”
“Yeah, so?” Anna answered lowly.
“You’ve never been with another man. It’s not that I don’t want you but having sex isn’t a good idea—not now.”
“You think I’m immature?”
“No, I don’t think you’re immature. You’re young but you’re not immature.” He kissed the back of her head. “I’d like to get to know you a little better.” He chuckled. “That’s sorta hard to do with my penis inside of you.”
“Just my luck.” Anna laughed until silence fell between them. “You know, I’ve never had an orgasm.”
“What? Never?” Kevin wasn’t surprised, Anthony looked like a jerk.
“Nope, never once. Hell, I can’t even masturbate properly.”
“Shut the hell up!” He said before he could check himself.
“Seriously! It starts out really hot but then the stupidest things come flooding into my head and I get off track … or I can’t find the right spot and I end up looking like Jam Master Jay scratching on the turntables. It’s not pretty.”
Kevin burst out laughing and Anna elbowed him in the stomach. “I’m laughing with you.” He held her close and silence stretched on as the darkness swaddled them. “What do you think about when you masturbate?” He asked quietly, his voice calm but firm.
“The last few days I’ve been fantasizing about you.” His lips on the back of her neck caused her legs to curl.
“Relax,” His hand sensually caressed the inside of her thigh and gently placed it over his. “Tell me what you want and I’ll make you cum.” One arm wrapped around her, its hand cupped one of her breasts and pinched her nipple lightly. He heard her breath catch when the fingertips of the hand between her thighs almost touched her mound.
His hand glided up and down her inner thigh; she trembled but dared not move hoping he’d touch her even for a second. She imagined the sensations his fingers would ignite fondling her lips, his hard cock pressed into her back as they spooned. Her hips began to grind slightly, she needed him to touch her, needed his fingers there on her clit, rubbing her wetness through her lace panties until she got off. She moaned—her hand fell between her legs pleasuring herself.
“Would you like me to take your panties off?” Kevin crooned.
“Please ...” she breathed the slightest whisper.
He laid her on her back, knelt before her, threw her legs over his shoulder so her bottom was off the bed. The moonlight shone through a crack in the curtains … just enough for him to see the delicate yellow lace kiss each pore of her smooth caramel skin as they were freed. He bent her legs at the knee and spread them slightly. “Show me how you masturbate.”
Anna wasn’t in the mood for his game of sexual chicken. “Can’t we just …”
“No, I want to watch you cum.
“I can’t. I’ve never done this in front of anyone.” Her heart pounded at the thought of performing such an intimate act before someone else. But the idea of him watching her touch herself did make her pussy jump. God, she wanted him inside of her, she wanted him to piston-fuck her into oblivion, and she wanted him to make her scream to the rafters. Or simply touch her. She could almost feel him tracing invisible lines up and down the slit of her pussy, the tips of his fingers gliding over her clit.
He moved between her legs and kissed her navel and continued the trail up her stomach and up her breasts. She could feel the warmth of his breath dance across her nipples.
Lightly he kissed one and she arched and groaned. “You like that?”
Anna was soaking wet. “Yes, please, again. More.” Her finger rubbed her clit.
“Do it. Touch yourself for me.” He licked and sucked her nipples. Her breathing quickened under his attention. Before long she was giving directives like a seasoned pro.
“Kiss me,” she said as her body undulated under his. His lips engulfed hers, their eyes locked as she stroked herself. His hard cock tapped her tummy which made navigating the murky space between foreplay and fucking that much more difficult. She wanted his touch but she didn’t. The pleasure was in part from the anticipation, the intimacy, and the possibility of total and irreversible insertion. “Fuck,” she threw her head back and cried.
Kevin watched her lost in her own world, her legs spread impossibly wide, her pussy audibly wet, her beautiful breasts rose and fell with each panting breath. She cried out to him. She was on the edge of cumming but try as she might it wasn’t happening. Damn, if he touched her it would take the will of ten men to prevent him from screwing her brains out.
“Come on, Anna. Cum for me.” He sucked her nipples.
“Please …” she gasped, no longer sure what she was asking for. Her body arched off the bed, desperately in need of release. “Ohh please!” she croaked.
“Please what?” He asked softly.
“I need to cum … please … make me cum. I’m begging.” She shook.
“There’s no need to beg me,” He fingers found her greedy slit. “I’ll give you anything you want, Anna.” Two fingers dove into her and stroked evenly. He used his other hand to rub her clit gently ... confidant he’d watched her long enough to ensure he’d gotten the rhythm correct. Anna gave one long strangled groan and tightened around his fingers … yep, he’d gotten it right.
“Ohhhh please …” Her eyes stared into the darkness, unfocused and helpless. Her trembling legs opened offering herself to Kevin as his fingers massaged deep inside of her, his finger stroked, rubbed and caressed her clit. He turned his hand palm up and stroked towards himself. “Shit!!” she screamed with the urgent need to pee. “Stop!” she gripped his hand but his fingers kept moving, massaging that spot. Her clit suddenly felt large as her fist. It was delicious and frightening. Her juices gushed and soaked his hand, her thighs and the bed. She shook violently and held on to his hand, calling to him repeatedly.
“That’s it. Cum for me.” He stopped teasing her clit and pressed it firmly while his fingers tugged her g-spot. The walls of her pussy spasmed around his fingers like an ocean of an epileptic fit.
Anna’s body went limp and then heaved from the bed as though she were being pulled by a string tethered to her chest. She gave a deep guttural groan and a short splash of wetness escaped her pussy.
Kevin watched her orgasm rush through her. She convulsed so intensely he had to hold her in place. She drenched his fingers again and again. He never wanted it to end. God, he loved the sound of his name on her lips.
Slowly, Anna settled and Kevin kissed every inch of her damp skin until her breathing returned to normal and then he held her. It was dead silent but the room felt full, safe even. He’d kept his word; he didn’t force himself on her, though she wanted it especially after he’d given her her first orgasm. But she respected his wishes and fought the urge to rape him. If he could do that with his hands, there was no telling what else he had in store. Too bad he’d put the brakes on. She wiggled against him just a little hoping to tempt him into action.
“Don’t even try it,” He kissed her forehead and slapped her tiny ass, completely unaware of the nympho he’d unleashed.
“Just a little bit more?”
“Go to sleep.”
Hours later Kevin awoke to his cock penetrating Anna’s lips. His shaft turned in her hands as through she were opening an oily doorknob. “Oh shit,” he murmured as his traitorous cock swelled in her mouth. He was in no position to fight; Anna sucked, slurped, licked, and stroked until he bowed to her oral prowess and gave her what she wanted: He cum, his gut-wrenching surrender, his promise never to call her Sponge Bob ever again.
******
Willow waited until after breakfast to say her goodbyes to Sharon. If timed properly, she’d miss the mad rush of people flooding in and out of her room. She’d resigned herself to her and Scott’s fate and though she’d always have a bond with Sharon given their shared experience it was time for her to fade into the background. Willow scribbled Monica a note of congratulations and left it in Sharon’s keeping before leaving. It was better this way.
“You’ll be going home this afternoon.” Grant announced as he came through Sharon’s door. He kissed her as she struggled to sit up in bed. “I’ve hired a nurse and my mother will stay on until you’re well enough to make the journey to New York.”
“I’m ready. The sooner, the better.”
“Are you sure?” He sat beside her and immediately turned the television to Bloomberg.
“Positive.” Sharon studied Grant’s profile. He was always so calm, so collected; always thinking without thinking. His emotions were there, he never hid them and she knew them well—but she wondered if he’d ever lashed out in anger. Anger was the one emotion she hadn’t witnessed. Not once had he mentioned Anthony’s name in anger. Yes, they talked about the event and the ongoing investigation but he never talked specifically about Anthony himself. Maybe this was another one of those WASPy traits she knew nothing about.
Their friends and family all seemed to arrive at once. Joy and Cody didn’t stay long and only stopped by to smuggle Sharon a grilled chicken sandwich with pesto sauce before heading to yet another function.
Grant’s eyes narrowed on Sharon. Somehow in the ten minutes he’d left her side to talk to the doctor, Sharon had coordinated a smuggling ring with her friends acting as carriers. Monica and Scott came bearing potato salad and Mrs. Fitz and his mother came with Orangina and cream cakes. He allowed her to eat her contraband in peace. The pains it took for her to swallow was his “I told you so”.
“Where is Mr. Fitz?” asked Sharon.
“Home. We’ll see him tonight.” Monica answered as she curled next to Sharon in bed. Her gaze fell on the people surrounding them. They weren’t related by blood yet they were the only family they had. With them she wasn’t the glittering three-dimensional corporeality lacking substance … she was complete. Who’s to say this wasn’t the way it was supposed to be—maybe the combined juggernaut of a family is what one creates for themselves when the one they’re born to no longer exists. Whatever the case, Monica was, quite simply, content.
Mrs. Fitz and Mrs. Ellis were leaving when Kevin and Anna walk through the door. Anna looked elated whilst Kevin’s demeanor was more difficult to read. Mrs. Ellis stopped him and asked what was the matter.
“Anthony is dead.” He shoved his hand into his jean pockets. “He was found this morning in the bathroom. His head had been smashed repeatedly on the sink.” He looked up expecting to see wide-eyed horror but there was none. No one blinked.
“Do they know who killed him?” Scott finally broke the silence.
“No, well … not really.”
“What?” Sharon asked.
Kevin rubbed the back of his neck. “To be honest, we don’t have a clue. We don’t even know where to begin. Anthony pissed the wrong people off. They must have been waiting for him.”
“It was more than one person then?” Monica questioned.
“Absolutely,” Kevin snorted. “People are confessing left and right. Whoever it was covered themselves well.” He looked at Mrs. Ellis. “And they moved quickly.”
“Well, I personally hate to hear anyone has been hurt, even Anthony.” Mrs. Ellis beamed and turned to Sharon. “I’ll see you tonight.” She patted Kevin’s chest on the way out the door and said under her breath. “Good work.”
Mrs. Fitz said her goodbyes and winked at Kevin as she left.
Kevin stayed and made small talk before bidding farewell and being sucked into their dinner plans—a clear sign that he was now one of the family.
“I’ll walk down with you.” Grant came to his feet. “I need to stretch my legs.” They walked towards the bay of elevators in near silence. “Who did it?” Grant asked, his eyes looking over Kevin’s right shoulder.
“The guys a lifer … no possibility of parole,” Kevin replied lowly. “His family needed the money. What the hell can he do for them?”
“And if he’s caught?” Grant let the question hang.
“If he’s caught, what can they do to him? Kill him? Please, they’d be doing him a favor.” Kevin hit the down button. “Besides, it was a piss-head like Anthony that landed him in jail. He would’ve done the job for nothing.”
“Good.” The elevator doors opened and Kevin stepped inside. “I’ll wire his wife the rest of the money after dinner.”
“No problem. It’s been nice doing business with you. See you tonight.” The doors closed.
Grant took a deep breath, smiled to myself and walked back to Sharon’s room.
******
Epilogue
The Fitzpatrick’s house teemed noisily with guests and family. Cara’s staff had worked well into the night making the preparations for what was hoped to be the last wedding of its kind. Joy and Cody rounded up the kids and searched high and low for Mr. Fitz and Mr. Ellis … no doubt they’d sneaked off again as Scotty and Grant Jr. has gone missing as well.
Monica and Sharon tracked down Mrs. Fitz and Mrs. Ellis in the dressing area. Cody’s assistants were making their final touches. “Drink anyone?!” Monica called for Bree to fetch the ladies alcohol … lots of alcohol, anything to stop Mrs. Ellis from cursing out the helpless makeup assistant again. She looked down to see a pair of tiny legs disappear under the dressing table. “Get out from under there.” She ripped up the table skirt and shooed two little giggling girls on their way. “Go find your Paw-Paw. Get!”
The girls ran screaming down the stairs, passing their fathers as they ran out the front door.
“Slow down!” Scott called after them.
“It’s useless,” Grant pointed out. “You know how they are when they’re together. Just like their mothers.”
“Is this what I have to look forward to?” Kevin asked as he greeted guests.
“Yeah!” Scott and Grant said in unison.
“There you are,” KC chirped, fakely kissing Kevin on both cheeks. “You finally decided to marry our Anna. What has it been? Five years now? I’m surprised you even bothered.”
“Aw KC,” Kevin replied with equal fakeness. “I’m so glad you took time away from maiming farm animals to celebrate this joyous occasion.” He smiled warmly.
“Fuck off, Kevin.” KC smiled warmly and strolled into the kitchen.
“Thanks! Unlike you, you genetic dead end, I will be fucking later.” Kevin shouted to her back. Scott and Grant laughed.
“Hey! That’s enough fucking for one day.” Mr. Fitz dropped Scotty from his back on to his feet and adjusted his tux. “Let’s get this fucking show on the road. Where’s everyone?”
“Everyone please take your places.” Joy urged. “Did Dr. and Mrs. Greene make it?”
“They’ve been seated.” Cody answered in passing.
“Where’s the other Paw-Paw? Where’re the grandmothers?” Joy shouted.
“Don’t call me grandmother,” Mrs. Fitz said coming down the stairs. “Nana will do.”
Scott grabbed his son and straightened his bowtie. “Be good. Don’t upset your mom today. There are plenty of trees to hang you from and I doubt I’ll get to you in time. Got it?”
“Got it.” Scotty beamed. Besides the curl of his hair, Scotty looked entirely like Scott. There wasn’t an ounce on Monica to be found. Luckily, Gracie came a year after him and bore a striking resemblance to her mother.
Sharon seemed to have synced her biological clock with Monica’s as she and Grant’s horde grew at the same pace. Both women swore off any more babies. Running a thriving business and managing a house wasn’t as easy as it sounded. And with Scott having passed the bar and opening his own practice, there wasn’t enough time in the day. Now, it was Anna and Kevin’s turn to expand the family. And a family they were … with the Fitzs and the Ellises as the grandparents. Even Cody and KC squeaked under the uncle and aunt bar. Time expunged the past. No one talked about Anthony or any of the BS they’d gone through. It was trivial in comparison to where they were in their lives.
Monica stood down and allowed Joy’s team to oversee the wedding. Neither she, Sharon nor Joy were to lift a finger … not that they planned on it anyway. Monica took her place beside Scott as the wedding began. It was hard to believe a one-night stand had grown into a real family. She thought she’d reached the apex of her life when her business took off and people kowtowed to her but nothing, the glitz nor the glamour, measured up to the happiness she found in her daily life.
She had it all.