Michael Quinn

by Caleb Borne

  “Now your blouse and skirt,” I ordered quietly. I felt my fog of perspiration, salty in the corner of my eye. Heart pounding, I was fully erect inside my clothes. It took every shred of control not to take her on the spot.

  Without breaking her stare, she did as requested.

  “Your slip.”

  She didn’t look out windows or give a quick glance to ensure we were alone. She trusted me.

  “Now, the bra and then your panties.”

  Seconds passed before she responded in a deliberate, even voice. “No.”

  I sucked in a breath. “No?”

  Katie slowly shook her head.

  “I won’t say it again, Katie. Take off your bra and then your panties.”

  “And I won’t tell you again,” she echoed. “If you want them… come and get them!” she shrieked in laughter and ran around me and up the staircase, catching me completely off guard.

  Disappointment with the end of our drama exploded in a frustrating breath and I turned and took the stairs two at a time to follow her. When I reached the landing, I saw her flitting down the hallway, opening doors to find the only one with a bed.

  “Found it!” she squealed and disappeared inside.

  I was kicking off shoes and loosening my belt as I ran after her. I stopped in the doorway and looked at her. Katie lay on top of the quilted satin spread, completely naked. One ankle was lying atop her knee, exposing her completely. She had one hand behind her head, twisting her hair and the other hand was beckoning to me. “Come on in and play with me,” she invited with a whisper, making my knees weaken to the point of collapse. I had no idea of the vixen inside the girl.

  Perhaps women are different but I don’t remember much after that point. Testosterone took over, guiding me to kneel next to her on the bed and kiss that juncture she was exposing. Her head tipped backward and her eyelids closed, accompanied by a low sound of feral pleasure. “Michael, do to me what you did on your wedding night. I want that part of you inside me and your hands… you know.”

  I nodded and answered gruffly, “I know.”

  Her flesh was flushed with heated blood, her nerve endings sensitive where I touched her. I kissed her petal-entrance grotto, parting the folds of skin to reveal that bud of pleasure. Flicking it with my tongue, Katie responded by arching her back, reaching up for more. Her fists were clenched and I knew she’d discovered how to send the blood downward to increase the pleasure. Her luxurious blonde hair beat at the pillow, turning side to side as she explored those inner sensations I knew she would be having. “Don’t let me—”

  “I won’t,” I answered her pleading whisper. “I won’t, because I can’t that long.”

  Pushing her legs first flat, and then far apart, I threw my leg over so I was straddling her. I rose up, looking at the treasure waiting for me and couldn’t hold back. I guided myself to her opening and then plunged inward, parting the quivering blood-pumped flesh. When I filled her and beyond, she stiffened at the suddenness of my loving assault. She was still new and could be hurt, so it was up to me to control her enthusiasm for her.

  “Don’t stiffen, sweetheart. Let me do the work.”

  “Michael, it’s just that I want you so much.”

  “Shhh…”

  I began a steady, but gentle rhythm of penetration. The moist flesh was almost more than I could resist. I stroked her bottom, pressing gently there to lift her up to meet me. She cried out at each thrust and her hips began their own rhythm as she attempted to extend the sensations. Her eyes closed, her soft mouth formed an O and I kissed it, my tongue exploring hers as I breathed in her scent. It was intoxicating.

  Katie drew back her knees, opening herself further. My hands on either side of her shoulders, I could feel the electricity building in her quivers, and in my own heat. “Here we go,” I whispered and with a dozen light, fast strokes brought us both to release at the same time. My head went into another world where there was only the two of us and I was in total control. Katie was the perfect match for me in every way.

  I pulled her onto her side with me as I collapsed against the pillows, my chest still heaving from the exertion. Her perspiration had caused the fly-away hairs along her face and neck to curl; her lips burnished red from kissing and the gritty stubble on my jaw. I pushed my arm beneath her neck and held her so that her cheek lay on my chest. Certainly, there could not be a better feeling in the entire world.

  She truly was my home. What I didn’t see coming, was the need to protect her from an unexpected attack.

  Kathleen

  I remember two things from that next morning. The first was that I was starving, technically not having eaten since breakfast the day before… and then there was all that energy I spent.

  The second was Michael standing at the foot of the bed, in full erection, holding my clothes. “You’d better get dressed. The first staff interview is in fifteen minutes.”

  Sweeping back the covers and rising to my feet, I snatched the skirt and blouse from his hand. “Why didn’t you wake me? I’m starved. We should have gone to breakfast first. And how do you expect to conduct interviews in that condition?” I laughed nodding toward his engorged penis.

  “Do you want me to stand here and try to answer your questions, or grab a cold shower?”

  “I’m sorry, you’re right. The shower, by all means. I need to rinse my face, too.”

  “We just have to get through six interviews and then we’ll go out for lunch,” he promised and I swear, I felt dizzy at the thought of it. I got back at him, though. As the candidates came into the house, I’d stare at his crotch every so often and like magic, he’d excuse himself to the bathroom. I could barely keep from laughing and the best part was that I hired the people I wanted.

  My new cook was Isabelle Smith, although I told her right from the start she should expect me to call her Izzy. She remarked that I looked pale and rather than share my antics of the past twenty-four hours, I simply said I hadn’t eaten yet. She twirled on her feet, calling, “I’ll be right back.”

  Sure enough, she was back momentarily, a large picnic basket in her hands. “I was taking this with me to visit my brother, but he never appreciates anything I do and you need it more. Here, eat up now.”

  I was too hungry to argue and when I’d finished, Michael couldn’t have pried her out of my hands. Her food was indescribably delicious. Michael remarked on it, too. Izzy was hired on the spot and Michael sent her off to do the marketing with a wad of bills. “Can you have dinner for us tonight?”

  She turned, a mischevious grin on her face. “Let’s eat at four.”

  I loved her. She was assigned a room near the kitchen which meant she could give up what she described as “a shoebox of an apartment.” It was a mutually beneficial situation. I did, however, instruct her that the kitchen and dining areas were her domain and to steer clear of Michael’s part of the house unless he invited her.

  Michael and I differed on one score. I wanted a very casual, fun, household where people were welcomed to drop by unannounced and the staff would be considered like family. Michael, on the other hand, wanted more formality, saying it was the only way to earn respect. We had words and it was decided that I would hire staff for inside the house and the rest was up to him. I was fine with that. The stables held no great allure for me.

  Having left the majority of my wardrobe in California, I was desperate to get some shopping done, but the interior designer was due shortly. Her name was Elizabeth and she looked like one. She was prim, thin and not given to whims. Her ideas were very traditional and when she was buried in her books of fabric and wallcovering samples, she seemed lost to the world. “You know what, Elizabeth? This really isn’t important to me. There’s so much house here. Why not just do it the way you’d like to see it? Mr. Quinn is an influential businessman, so we’ll be doing some entertaining. He’s more traditional than I am and has asked that we not touch his study. Otherwise, I’d appreciate it if you’d just take control. I�
�m sure I’ll love it.”

  Her mouth fell open. To be awarded the design job of a property like The Hill was an honor and a jewel to her professional crown. When she learned there was no budget, I thought she’d faint. “Just one thing,” I noted. “Stay out of Mr. Quinn’s way. When he’s working, he needs quiet and privacy. He is often away, though, so you should have plenty of opportunities to get your work done.” She spent the rest of the day with her notebook and tape measure, muttering beneath her breath. She reminded me a little of Katherine Hepburn, the movie actress. Lean and haughty, she worked quickly and talked to herself the whole time. I could see she might get on Michael’s nerves, so I’d have to keep an eye on her.

  Michael approved of both women pending a background check and that they sign some sort of non-disclosure. I found the thought of such a thing a little disturbing, but reminded myself that it was Michael’s office, as well as his home. If he required privacy, then it would be privacy he’d get.

  My staff chosen, I walked outside to see how Michael was faring with potential farm managers, horse trainers and more. One man had just left, and he was waiting another.

  “I’m all done indoors. Izzy says she’ll have dinner on the table at four o’clock, but unfortunately, there’s no table, so that may be a problem. I know she’s only going to pick up a few things for meal preparation. As soon as you open that account for her, she’ll have to do a proper job of organizing and stocking the kitchen.

  “Paper plates is fine. I’m not picky.”

  Inwardly, I rolled my eyes at that. I thought he was extremely picky in everything he did, but maybe that was the Irish way. “How are things coming with the farm management.”

  “Fine.”

  He didn’t elaborate and I got the message that I should stay out of it, just as he stayed out of mine. That said, I couldn’t help myself. “Michael, are you sure you don’t want me to at least meet each candidate? After all, I grew up around here and I know a lot of people.”

  “Don’t you trust my judgement?”

  “Of course, but…”

  “No buts. There was a time in my past when you would have looked right past me. I was less than a nobody.”

  I thought about his words and as much as I wanted to deny them, I had to admit there was some truth to that. In that part of the country, we chose our prejudices early and seldom revised them.

  “You see what I mean?” He’d read the look in my eye.

  “Fair enough,” I answered quietly, feeling lousy for doubting his expertise. After all, he’d made his money, not me. I seemed to be in the business of costing people money. To change the subject, I said, “I didn’t properly thank you for buying this estate for me. It’s more than generous and now I know I’ll never be without a home.”

  “You thanked me last night. I saw what I needed to see in your face. You’re everything I want—until the children finish up the picture, of course. When will you be ready to begin having babies?”

  I stepped back to catch my balance. I hadn’t really thought about it. You did just sweep me off my feet, you know. Maybe five years or so?”

  “We begin immediately,” he announced and walked away as another vehicle was proceeding up the drive and into the parking area outside the stables. I was left with my pride and a sense of astonishment that I had no say so in the matter. These were, after all, the 60s and the women’s movement was growing. Naturally, it would take years before it came to traditional Kentucky, but I couldn’t put it out of my mind that he’d not even suggested we talk about it later. He simply announced the way it would be and abandoned me.

  Michael was greeting the man who climbed out of his Ford pickup and didn’t even look my way. He was, in essence, saying he didn’t need me to meet anyone and I’d been dismissed. Peeved, I walked back to the house to nurse my ruffled feathers.

  Izzy had just returned and thankfully, thought to bring paper plates and so forth. “We don’t even hav anywhere to sit but the picnic table outside,” I lamented.

  “That’ll be just fine. I can cook picnic or ballroom. Makes no never mind to me,” she drawled. I’d barely known the woman for more than a couple of hours and already she was holding a more motherly attitude toward me than my own mother. “You okay? Yer lookin’ a might peeved.”

  “Oh, it’s nothing. Marriage is such an adjustment, especially for a spoiled girl like me.”

  Izzy nodded her forehead in Michael’s direction. “I believe that one will take the spoiled out of ya faster than anybody I know.”

  I smiled my approval and reached for the cup of lemonade she’d just made. I took it out to the patio and settled in at the table, but then realized that Michael might think I was spying, so I went back inside and sat on the stairway. It was the only place to sit.

  As I looked around, I tried to imagine what the house would look like once Elizabeth had waved her magic wand. She’d promised to have some furniture delivered the next day, just to get us through the decorating period. I realized we didn’t even have a telephone. In that moment, I felt lonely and abandoned.

  Michael remained outside until the last applicant had left and came trudging up to the patio where I finally settled at the picnic table. It was his choice to bring me there with the house unfurnished, so he’d have to live with the consequences. “Izzy has dinner almost ready,” I told him as he approached.

  He acknowledged me with a nod.

  “Any luck?”

  “I think so. He’s young. I’d say not much older than you if at all. I’ll call him in the morning and offer him the farm management job. He will be responsible for hiring the rest of the workers as needed.”

  I swallowed the renewal of my offer to meet the hopefuls. There were few families around I didn’t know. Instead, I thought maybe asking questions would make Michael more comfortable. “Will he be staying on the property?”

  “Of course. He’ll camp out in the stable, but when he gets some men hired, they’ll help him build a small house at the edge of a pasture. He’ll use another drive. We won’t even see him.”

  I didn’t comment and he didn’t offer. That would become our mode of communication from that time forward.

  “Elizabeth mentioned she might have a few pieces of furniture out here for us tomorrow, so we at least have somewhere to sit.”

  “What’s wrong with this table?”

  That stung. For some reason, since we’d arrived Michael had reverted to the personality of an immigrant who’d been held down and he was taking it out on me. Again, I tried another track.

  “Do you have any idea how much I admire you, Michael? You had nothing and still built all this,” I swept my arm out.

  His eyes studied the landscape of stables, paddocks and pastures and I saw him nod. I was sure he was just adjusting to the role.

  “I’ve come home to me Ireland, and ye’ll not spit on me agin’.”

  Michael

  I went into town to order phones for the estate and while I was there, I called Butch Knight, the young man I’d chosen for a farm manager. He met me at a tavern where we drew up a job description and discussed the details before going on to outlining the plan I wanted him to follow.

  “I can’t thank you enough for this opportunity. My family has fallen on some hard times and I believe Dad will lose the farm,” he told me. “This is the only world I know.”

  “Play your cards right and remember who’s boss, and you’ll find yourself with all the opportunity you can handle.”

  “I appreciate that. I finished college not long ago and never expected the rug to be pulled out from beneath my feet.”

  “Keep to your job and your responsibilities. Tend to the animals, your workers and stay clear of the house. My wife and the house are off limits. Is that understood?”

  He nodded enthusiastically. “Of course. I’ll use the other entrance; you’ll never see me unless you come down to the stables.”

  I nodded. “Good. Now then, you’ll have an account to draw from
for salaries and the farm needs. I expect receipts and timecards.”

  “Of course.”

  I reached out, shook his hand and then signaled the waiter for the bill. Our meeting was over. He picked up on that. “Good-bye, sir.” He stood. “Sir?”

  I looked up.

  “Excuse me, but have we met before?”

  “I doubt that. I’m not a public figure and I’m from another part of the world.”

  “Yes, sir, but since we first met, I can’t shake the feeling that we’ve met.”

  “No, we have not.”

  Butch nodded and left. On the ride back to the estate, I considered the changes I was making. As a bachelor, with no family nearby, I lived privately. That was going to change. I had plans to build my holdings. So far I’d found a wife and now the estate. Next came children and before long, people would think I was old, landed money and not a street urchin from Dublin.

  I stopped by my attorney’s office. He was in with someone, but when I announced myself his secretary, she excused herself immediately and went into his office. “He’ll see you now, Mr. Quinn,” she said politely. I strode into his office, nearly colliding with the man I assumed he’d been talking to. It was none other than O’Hara. He looked into my eyes with a pleading and I obliged by pretending not to recognize him. He was up to something. I’d make it my business to find out what.

  Saul Bloomstein held out his hand over the desk and I shook it. “Good to see you, Michael. I hear congratulations are in order.”

  I ignored his remark. He would have heard if from O’Hara and I wanted to make any appropriate announcements in my own time. I didn’t trust O’Hara and it seemed he was already cashing in on my name—a fact that didn’t make me happy.

  “What may I do for you today?”

  “The estate I bought?”

  “Yes,” he acknowledged.

  “Put it in Katie’s name. Kathleen O’Hara.”