by Aven Jayce
“Sort of.”
Daxton shudders as his father pours another cup of water over his cut flesh.
“Sorry,” Cove says compassionately. “Can you explain in more detail? This is important.”
“I went into the woods and saw her at a distance. She knew my name and kept calling me over. She said she was friends with mom. She knew mom’s name too, mom’s real name of Jameson. She waved me to follow her out of the woods, but when I did, I realized I wasn’t in the parking lot. I was further down the drive of Uncle Mark’s hotel, close to the road.”
“So you walked for some time?”
“I guess so.”
“You remember we told you no to go anywhere with strangers?”
“She wasn’t. She knew my name and mom’s. That’s not a stranger.”
Cove sighs and Sophia returns, handing her son a pill and a cup of water. He gives his wife a look of disappointment then asks his son to continue.
“She grabbed me and put me in a truck. I tried to kick and scream like you taught me, but she taped my mouth and tied my hands behind my back.” For the first time I hear a waver in his voice. “It sucked. I tried to kick her, but that only made her angry. She said...” He pauses and soaps his feet while his parents wait.
“What?”
He doesn’t answer.
“Don’t push him,” Sophia says gently. “Maybe that’s enough.”
“No. I want to talk to him while it’s still fresh in his mind.”
Daxton looks over his shoulder at his parents. “She said I have the same eyes as Paul. Who’s Paul? And why did you and Uncle Mark kill her husband? She’s pissed and she took it out on me. For fuck’s sake, Dad.” He turns back around and continues bathing.
“Oh, hell,” Cove says, looking to Sophia. He stands and walks out, heading for their bedroom with Sophia following close behind.
“Where are you going? We need to explain this to him,” she says.
“Fuck, we’re not telling him shit about Dayne. Go ahead and tell him Paul was your father, but that’s it.” He paces. “I think I’m going to be sick. Fuck!”
“And what’s going on with a box? What’s that all about?”
“She put him in a cardboard box,” his voice shakes, “and left him outside of Mark’s garage.”
“Dad!” Daxton calls out. “I thought you wanted to talk?”
“I’m coming!” he responds then grips Sophia’s shoulders. “Listen, how we handle this situation right now, at this very moment, is going to affect him for the rest of his life.”
“I don’t want to lie to our sons.”
“Well, I don’t want to either, but what the fuck choice do we have?”
“Dad!”
“Be right there, Daxton!”
Okay, I was wrong. Mera didn’t keep her mouth shut. Fuck, what is it with women needing to be such gossip hounds about everything in their lives? Did you see the size of Clarissa’s ass? Do you think Dirk likes me? OMG, Brad has a big dick. I think I’m pregnant. Mark and Cove killed my husband. Blah, blah, blah.
I wish Cove and Sophia would just blame me for this shit and move on. I mean, how difficult is it to say Uncle Mark’s a prick and it’s his fault? I wouldn’t care. If I could call them and tell them that, I would.
Still Busy
Another text from Jules... what the hell is she up to?
I’m not going to sleep until we fuck. Is what you’re doing more important than sitting on my dick?
Women. You can’t live with ‘em and you can’t cut ‘em in half and keep their lower torso to fuck because they start to smell after a few days. I should text her that, see how she responds.
Aren’t you upset? She messages.
Does she mean about the gun, or Dax? I guess the latter.
Yes, but I’ll fix the problem when the time is right, not now.
How could she do such a thing to a little boy?
No worries, it will toughen him up.
Okay, that last text from me was a bit cold and perhaps unnecessary.
What the fuck, Mark!!!
I ignore her last comment, but then think of a brilliant response.
Welcome to the family.
I look at the security cam and see Daxton’s out of the tub, in a pair of jeans, and trying to view the word on his back. Sophia’s checking on Xavier who’s sound asleep on the living room sofa and Cove is standing outside his kids’ bedroom, figuring out what the fuck he’s gonna say.
“Dad?”
“I’m here.”
“Who’s Paul?”
“Your grandfather.” He walks into the bedroom. “Your mother’s father.”
“I thought mom said she didn’t have any parents.”
“Well, she came from someone, just like you and Xavier.”
“Oh,” he sighs. “Why did you and Uncle Mark kill that lady’s husband?”
Cove rubs his face then leans against the dresser with crossed arms. “I didn’t. We didn’t,” he lies.
His son tries to look at his back once more, but finally gives up. Cove takes him into the bathroom and gently puts an ointment on the cuts, most likely to help prevent infection, then covers the area with gauze. When finished, Dax pulls a Hurley sweatshirt over his head and places a black baseball cap on his head. “If you and Uncle Mark didn’t do anything, then why did she hurt me?”
“She’s sick, Dax. People who are sick in the head sometimes do mean things to others.”
“But you always say Uncle Mark is sick in the head, so has he done things like this?”
He’s silent, thrown off by his son’s question and refuses to answer. Dax stares him down, but Cove won’t open his mouth.
“You know what? I think you’re full of shit, Dad.”
“Hey, wait a minute.” He takes his son by the arm. “Don’t talk to me that way. There are some things you’re just not old enough to understand or do. This is one of them. Telling your father he’s full of shit is another.”
“You wanted to talk so that means you need to answer my questions, too. Remember? You said we should never be afraid to tell you anything and that you’d do the same.”
“You’re right. Uh.” Cove looks toward the ceiling. “My sons are now old enough to put me in my place. Can’t you guys go back to riding tricycles and playing with bubbles?”
Daxton laughs and heads out of the room. “Bubbles are for babies.”
“Where are you going? I still have a lot of questions.”
“I’m hungry.” He races down the stairs and eyes his brother on the sofa, running over and sitting on his back. “Get up, farthead. Let’s eat.”
Xavier pushes him off with a moan.
“Xav’s exhausted, let him sleep. And why aren’t you tired? You’ve been up all night,” Cove asks.
He ignores his father. “Mom! I want some cereal.”
“Hey, did you sleep? Answer me.”
He nods.
“Where?”
I don’t remember.
“Dax, think.”
“Cove.” Sophia sets a box of cereal on the counter as her son gets a bowl and the milk. “Let him eat. He’ll talk when he’s ready. Please, just be happy he’s okay.”
“I am. What the fuck, Soph? Don’t sugarcoat this shit like nothing happened.”
“I know something happened!” she shouts, making Xavier rise from the sofa and rub his eyes.
“What the hell?” Dax says, taking his breakfast to the kitchen table. “Did I do something wrong? Why are you arguing?”
“We’re not,” Cove responds. “We’re confused, that’s all. We need answers, buddy. Think. Tell me what happened after you were tied and in the truck.”
“Well,” he says with a mouth full of Cheerios, swinging his legs under the chair. “She said she wanted Dayne... who’s Dayne?”
“Her husband,” Sophia answers.
“Yeah she said that too. She wanted her husband and she wanted Dayne.”
“Her husband and Dayn
e are the same person, Dax.”
“Yep, that’s what she kept saying. Then, she drove somewhere, only I was lying on the seat and couldn’t see out the window. It was dark, that’s all I know. I didn’t see any lights anywhere. She stopped and said I had to give Uncle Mark, Mom, and you a message. Then she raised my shirt and started scratching my back. She said you or Uncle Mark must’ve killed him.”
Cove shakes his head continuously while listening. “What did she use to hurt you?”
He shrugs. “I can’t see behind me, but it hurt. I kept kicking and screaming, only no one could hear me because of the tape over my mouth.”
Sophia wipes a tear from her cheek as Cove closes his eyes and rubs his forehead.
“Did you hear anything? Traffic? Any noise?”
“I don’t remember... no. I don’t think so. I was too busy trying to get away. Then I fell asleep.”
“What do you mean?”
“I kicked her. I got her good, right in her stomach. That made her really angry and she said she had a mean cat that was going to get me.”
“A what?” Sophia asks.
“She poked me with a cat and said it was mean. A cat that’s mean, she called it. But I didn’t see or hear any cats. Then I fell asleep.”
Cove stares at his son for a few minutes then walks over to Sophia and grips her arm, leaning in close to whisper in her ear. “I bet she fucking shot him up with Special K. That bitch. It was Ketamine, Cat Valium. She could’ve killed him.”
“How do you feel right now, Dax?” he asks.
“Fine.”
“Do you remember anything after that?”
He shrugs, taking another bite of cereal while reading the back of the box. “Oh yeah. I vomited. I was in a room for a while... I think she took a shower... there was a gun on a table... she was talking to herself... she said she was going to kill me... I think I saw her breasts.”
“Wait, wait, slow down. Slow down. What?” Cove gasps. “What the fuck?”
“Jesus,” Sophia says.
“You saw tits?” Xavier walks into the kitchen and takes a bowl out of the cupboard. “Like, real ones?”
“I think so. Maybe I was dreaming. I don’t remember... oh, yeah, I did. She walked out of the bathroom right when I woke up. She had those big ones like we saw online.”
“That big?” Xav asks.
“Wait a second, what the fuck are you two talking about? We’ve never given you internet access.”
The boys point to their watches with a grin.
Oh shit, that’s my fault. I didn’t think I had to block any sites when I gave them those watches. Fuck, Sophia and Cove are gonna have my head. But, they should’ve thought of it themselves. And anyway, this is what I’m saying about trying to keep them in a bubble. It’s impossible, so just come clean with the kids. I’m sure in a few years they’ll come across the fact that we were all porn stars at one time.
And Mera Calloway, you stepped in some deep shit. I can’t wait to kill your ass. Drugging my nephew? You and I are going to spend some quality time together, I promise you that.
You angry?
Ah, my Jules is back, and I’ll assume she’s referring to the gun. Sorry, I’m not going to mention it in a text. Some things shouldn’t be put in writing. Twat and cock are fine, guns and drugs, not so much.
Yes, for many reasons. And I’m cranky from lack of sleep and lack of pussy.
lol!
Where’d you go with my tool?
Tool?
Fuck’s sake, Jules. My TOOL.
The black one or the pink one?
Black. The pink one’s in my hand.
Hmm. I guess I not only have your balls around my neck, but your TOOL as well. Poor Mark Jameson.
Wait. Is she playing me again or am I just high? I read her text a second then a third time before responding.
I’m going to stick that TOOL where the sun doesn’t shine if you don’t watch your mouth.
The black one or the pink one? She texts back.
I grin. Smartass. Come home and find out.
I am home. The hotel is packed.
Thank fuck. I lean forward and bring up the other security cams in my hotel. Yeah, there’s a swarm of people this morning getting ready for the marathon that starts in three hours. Damn, it’s crowded. I’m glad the cop cars didn’t scare anyone away.
Searching, searching... there’s my beauty, walking in the front door through a crowd of people and heading toward the elevator. She looks dead-tired like the rest of us. I follow her to her room and get a surprise when she undresses to take a shower. Hell, I wish I could see through the curtain. I untie my robe and lean back with a hand on my cock. Her silhouette is well defined and fucking beautiful as always. It’s amazing what a dark figure hidden behind a screen does to me. I stroke slowly, closing my eyes at times, breathing deeply, craving her, eager to feel her flesh... freakin’ A, this is good.
This is my usual masturbation spot - in front of my computer screen while watching my guests. I open the top drawer to my desk and take out a bottle of lube.
“Shit, that’s cold,” I whisper, as the Astroglide runs down my shaft. I spread it around and jerk off again. Much better. Slick and... uh... so good. The image of her pussy in my head is so sweet.
My free hand grips the armrest. I’m gonna cum on the screen. Wait ‘til she steps out... then shoot my load on her chest.
“No, come on. I’m not ready.”
She’s finished, toweling off and getting dressed. Damn, too soon, Jules. I know her shift starts in an hour, but she can slow down a little bit. I want a show, just two more minutes.
Mmm, she’s in her Jameson Hotel blazer and a short skirt... uh... fuck... uh, here we go. My hand jerks faster.
I lean closer to the screen, gazing, gawking, yanking it, then watching her walk back into the bathroom to put on a pad. Oh hell, if she’s on her period I’m not gonna pass up cumming inside of her.
I call her cell.
“Hi. You need something?”
I pant. “A few things, but first, get your ass over here.”
“Are you angry about the gun? I don’t want to come over if you’re going to use the belt again. I need to heal first.”
“Screw the gun, this is an emergency. Now!”
I end the call and wait at the door, my hand gliding over my dick as I keep an eye on the corridor through the peephole.
Two minutes later, “there’s my woman,” I whisper.
I open my door and pull her inside with my robe open and my erection pointing toward her face.
“Cute.”
“The next thirty seconds aren’t going to be cute.”
She’s against the wall, her mouth in custody, and our tongues at war. My hand hurries to slide her underwear and pad to the side. Yes. Hell yes. My cock slips in and is instantly coated with her warm blood. I’ve got seconds before I cum.
“Mark, wait. I...”
“I don’t care about it, just let me fuck you.” I thrust harder. “Stain me with your blood.” I grab her chin. “Look at my beaten face. Watch me, Jules. I’m gonna cum... I’m gonna cum.” Her legs wrap around my hips as her back gets slammed into the wall. My eyes start to blur. My dick... exploding... “Uh! Uh! Fuck!”
Her nails pierce my back causing an intense heat to shoot through my body and surround my cock. I pant and huff while grabbing her hips with a tight squeeze.
Nothing will ever compare to a speedy fuck. Nothing.
“Wow, Mark.”
“Damn, that was...”
“Gross,” she says. “And you only lasted five seconds. You owe me. I want a long loving fuck next time, with lots of foreplay.”
“Uhhh. I’ll make it up to you someday. I can’t promise it will be our next fuck, but eventually you’ll get what you want.” My head rests on her shoulder as we embrace. I continue panting while rocking her in my arms, thinking about nothing but her. We were made for one another. I’ve tried to tell her that before
but it came out all wrong, and once again, I fuck it up.
“Your blood kicks ass.”
“Um... thank you?”
I kiss her forehead and set her down, sliding my red dick out of her pussy. That’s pure satisfaction - no condom, being able to share her thick flow, and the end result is that my flesh gets painted like the face of a warrior.
“Fucktard, you got blood on my skirt.”
“I’ll buy you a new one,” I say, tying my robe. “Thanks for the quickie. Now where’s my gun?”
“In my room,” she sighs, licking her finger and trying to clean her clothing, not giving a shit that she took my weapon. “Fuck. You’re a mess.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“Your dick, your face, your head, the smell of pot that’s hovering in the air... a total mess.”
I pull her closer for a long, enduring kiss, running my hands down her chest and gripping her tits. She blushes when released and tightens her lips, holding back a smile.
“But?” I question. “I know there’s more to your last comment.”
“But... for some reason I love you more and more each day. I must be crazy, but I do,” she whispers.
“I know,” I say. “So, Jules? Tell me something, beautiful.”
“What?”
“What would you have done if I had stabbed you with my knife instead of stabbing you with my dick?”
“I would’ve pulled it out of my body and shoved it in your ass,” she replies without hesitation.
I nod. “I had that thought when I saw my gun was missing. I just wanted you to know that killing you crossed my mind.”
She cocks her head and folds her arms, giving me an evil glare. “This bullshit about killing me is getting fucking ridiculous. Don’t talk about it anymore unless you’re actually going to do it. Now excuse me, I have to change my skirt, dry my hair, eat breakfast, and try to get through an eight-hour shift without any sleep.”
A hardy laugh echoes through my suite. Shit, she’s the best.
“Come on.” She motions. “I’ll get your goddamn tool that you seem to be so infatuated with. I swear you love your weapons more than me. And when are you going to say that you love me anyway?”
“I thought I just did.”
She rolls her eyes and exhales my name. “Oh, Mark. So whenever I tell you I love you, your response will be ‘your blood kicks ass.’ Fine, act like a teenager again, fuck if I care.”