Tony was inside Brent’s large great room sitting at the piano. “He looks jock-ish?” Tony asked as he played around with a tune. “What is that? Is jock-ish the opposite of what you look like? Such as punkish?”
“I was not talking to you,” Donald said.
“Ah,” Tony replied, “but I was talking to you.”
“Knock it off you two,” Brent said as he dropped his gym bag and towel near the entrance and headed for the kitchen. “Don’t bring that shit in my house.”
Brent realized Ashley was also there, sitting on the sofa. “I thought Dad said you and Donald were on the outs.”
“We were,” Donald said, sitting down beside Ash. “She was angry at me for calling Dad on her.”
“I’m still angry with you,” Ashley said. “You need to grow up.”
“You need to stop going to dangerous parties,” Tony said.
“You need to stay out of my business,” Ashley shot back, “that’s what you need to do!”
“Amen!” Donald said. “She’s still mad at me,” he said to Brent, “but she knows I have her back.”
“And I have yours,” Ashley said. “Which brings us to the reason we’re here.”
“You mean you guys aren’t here just to get on Brent’s nerves?” Tony asked. “That’s a switch.”
Brent grabbed a bottled water out of his frig and took a long swig, and then he walked over to a flanking chair and sat down. “Don’t you have classes to attend in the morning?” he asked Ashley.
“I’ll be to class on time. Don’s going to take me back early in the morning.”
“I don’t know how,” Tony said. “You’re in Jericho every time I turn around. Either you’re here, or Donald’s on his way to Boston to bring you here. Or to party with you there. You must be a genius to keep up that kind of social life, and graduate too.”
“But guess what?” Ashley said. “I may party, but I’m still graduating and graduating on time. So I must be a genius then.”
Tony almost choked on his own spit. They all waited for him to have some zinger of a comeback, but he could only shake his head. “It’s too tempting,” he said.
“So what are all of you people doing in my house this time of night?” Brent asked.
“You people?” Donald asked. “We’re your family. We have a right to be here.”
“Tony has a right to be here,” Brent made clear. “He has a key. You and Ash are trespassing.”
“Very funny,” Ash said. “Just tell him what you want,” she said to Donald.
Donald leaned forward. He and Ash, Brent thought, were like two peas in a pod although they had such different personalities. “As you know,” Donald said to his oldest brother, “Dad made Bobby manager over all of his rental properties.”
Brent didn’t respond. It was a fact that needed no clarification.
Donald continued. “And if you and Tony and even Carly wanted to work for Dad, he’d put all three of you in charge of something major too. Like right away. He’ll give every one of his children a major position. Except me.”
“Don’t forget Ash,” Tony said. “He wouldn’t give her a major position either. And for good reason.”
Ashley and Donald both looked at Tony. “What good reason?” Ashley asked him.
“You and Donnie are . . . what’s the word? How do I say it, Brent?”
“Screw ups,” Brent said as his home phone began to ring.
“That’s the word!” Tony said. “Neither one of you are reliable people. I’m sorry to break it to you, kids. You just aren’t.”
Brent answered his phone. “Sinatra,” he said.
“Brent it’s me.” It was Eddie Rivers. “Just wanted to let you know that I finally convinced Ira Stockton, our venerable D.A., to accept the case. He finally thinks the arrest is justified and he will be prosecuting.”
“Thank God for that,” Brent said. “That punk has gotten away with too many burglaries in this town for far too long. I’m tired of hearing Ira claim we don’t have enough evidence.”
“I’m with you on that,” Eddie said. “Now he’s onboard with us. It took hours upon hours of arm twisting, but he’s onboard. But guess what else I heard while I was over there twisting his arm?”
“What?” Brent asked.
“I heard that your girl, that our Miss Special Prosecutor Makayla Ross, has decided to recommend Release for your grandfather at that hearing in the morning.”
Brent couldn’t believe it. “Release?”
“That’s what I heard. The state isn’t even going to request a new trial.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’m positive,” Eddie said. “At least that’s what Ira’s claiming she told him. Isn’t that a damn thing?”
But Brent was too stunned to respond. He hung up the phone and then began heading for the exit.
Donald jumped up too. “Where are you going?”
“I’ll be back,” Brent said.
“But I need you to talk to Dad, Brent. That’s why I’m here. Brent? Brent!”
But Brent was not responding. He hurried out of the door.
Donald looked at Ash. She shook her head. “I told you we were wasting our time,” she said.
The banging on the door stunned Makayla. She was in bed, and had been for some time, although she was sitting up in bed reviewing notes. But the idea that somebody would knock on her door this time of night, and banging like some madman, concerned her.
She closed her folder, sat it on the nightstand, and got out of bed. She was dressed in her usual sleep attire: a sheer nightgown that barely covered her ass but was slightly more comfortable to her than sleeping outright nude. She slipped into her slippers and grabbed the matching robe, which was just as sheer as her gown, but at least she was sufficiently covered. The fact that she had nothing more substantial sleepwear, however, was a testament to how certain she was that nobody would just drop in on her uninvited while she was in this town. Nobody, at least not in Jericho, knew her like that.
She made her way down the hall, across the living room, and up to the front door, she peeped through the peephole. When she saw that it was Brent, she was surprised, but also a little thrilled. She hadn’t seen him since he took her to see his father on Monday, and even before then they rarely saw each other. She was constantly at the D.A.’s office or the police station when she was in town, but Brent was rarely around. He kept his distance from her after the night she turned him down sexually, and that was fine by her. And, if she were to admit it, a little disappointing too. But what did she expect? The man had his pride. And besides, a man who looked like Brent Sinatra, and undoubtedly had some serious manly attributes, was not going to beg anybody.
But when Makayla opened that door, it was a different Brent standing there. No suit, no hat, no gentlemanly manners. He burst in without invitation, in shorts and a sweatshirt, and closed the door behind him. “Is it true?” he asked her.
She stared at him. “Is what true?”
“Are you going to recommend that my grandfather be released rather than be granted a new trial? Is it true?”
Makayla considered him. She’d already told him it could turn out that way. Why was he so stunned? “Who told you that?” she asked.
“What difference does that make?” he asked her. “Are you going to recommend that the judge release my grandfather at that hearing in the morning?”
“It’s already morning.”
“Yeah, that’s the answer I’m after. Don’t fuck around with me, Makayla!”
“Don’t talk to me like that, Brent!”
Brent exhaled. “So I’m not Chief Sinatra anymore? That’s progress. Now will you please tell me if it’s true?”
Makayla didn’t have a clean answer. “I haven’t decided,” she said truthfully.
“But what’s there to decide?” Brent wanted to know. “How can it be a debate?”
“The man served 36 years in prison,” Makayla said.
“That man killed
two people!” Brent said. “And one of those people was his wife. He killed his wife in front of her children!”
“His wife, in case you’ve forgotten, was having sex with another man under her husband’s roof.”
“I don’t care if she was having sex with ten men in the middle of the street,” Brent fired back. “Wrong is wrong I don’t care how it’s perpetrated! She didn’t deserve to die.”
Makayla gave in. “I know,” she said. “I know. That’s why I haven’t decided.”
Brent walked around. He had so much built in stress he could barely contain it. All he could think about was his father tomorrow, having to come face-to-face with Luke Sinatra for the first time in so many years after that horrific night. And then to think that he could be released, on the streets of Jericho again. Brent couldn’t even fathom it.
But when he stopped walking and looked at Makayla, and saw the stress that was in her eyes as well, he knew it was not her fault. She was only doing her job. It was a damnable job, but it was her job. And the way she looked standing there, so vulnerable yet so tough; so beautiful yet so frail. And suddenly he realized what he didn’t realize when he first entered her home: he could see the outline of her gorgeous naked body through the sheerness of her gown and robe. His dick, just like that, began to throb.
Makayla saw that changed look in his eyes as soon as the change occurred. She also saw, further down, that he was getting an erection. It was especially obvious through his spandex. And she found herself thinking about it too. Just like that. How would it feel, she thought, to have Brent Sinatra’s dick inside of her? His sizeable dick, if his growing erection was any indication. It was going to be humungous. If she were to be honest, she wanted a taste from the moment she laid eyes on him. She wanted to go there. Which meant, she also decided, she was heading for the danger zone.
“You look like you can use a beer,” she said to avert catastrophe, and began walking toward him, on her way to the kitchen.
“What can I do to help you decide?” he asked her.
“There’s nothing anybody can do,” she said as she approached him. “My decision will be based on the law of equity and fairness alone. No other considerations. And I will probably go back and forth for hours on end, all the way up until I arrive in court.”
Just as she was about to walk past Brent, he grabbed her by the arm and pulled her back in front of him. They were close, within inches. And she could see the fire in Brent’s green eyes. “I hate the job you have,” he said, “but I respect the job you’re doing. You know what my preference is.”
“You want your grandfather locked away for Life. You want Life to mean Life.”
Brent nodded. He appreciated her understanding. “That’s right,” he said.
“And I want what’s right,” she said. “Not in your eyes, or your father’s eyes, but in the eyes of the law. If there was prosecutorial misconduct, and it affected the outcome of his trial, is it fair for the state to retry him? Or should his time served, given that he might not have ever been convicted if the jury had all of the information, be sufficient? That’s what I have to decide, Brent.”
She said his name with the passion she was feeling. Because she not only understood his position, but she empathized with it. But she had a job to do.
Brent pulled her closer to him. He was gripping her arm too tightly, but the passion in his eyes softened the pain. “It’s a bad idea,” he said, “for me to want you. It’s bad for you, and it’s damn sure bad for me. It’s not going anywhere, I understand that. You’re just out of a relationship and isn’t ready to commit to anybody new, and I’m not ready to commit period. Add to that the fact that tomorrow in that courtroom you may very well do the one thing I don’t ever want you to do, and if that happens, calling this a bad idea will be like calling a gunshot a little bruise.”
Brent frowned, and placed both of his hands on her arms. He looked into her expressive eyes, and felt the warmth of her soft, curvaceous body. “But I’ve been watching you. I’ve been craving you since that night you turned me down. I’ve gone to different women, to get it off of me, but it was still there every time I saw you again. And now tonight, when the only emotions I should have toward you are anger and disappointment, I still want you. And it’s heavy as hell. My dick want to get inside of you so badly that if you say no, I’m going to have to pull it out and fuck myself.”
Makayla smiled. He pulled her even closer. She could feel his breath against her hair. She could smell his manly scent. “I want you, Makayla,” he said, his mouth looking at hers. “I want you!”
He captured her mouth with his. Makayla fell into his kiss. And she knew he was right: it was the personification of a bad idea. And how was she to know if it was not a trick? Was he using her to get a favorable outcome at the hearing? Did he think she was that weak and impressionable?
She pulled back. She couldn’t risk it. But Brent wouldn’t let her go.
“Let me get you a drink,” she said. “You’re feel better if you had a drink.”
“I don’t want a drink,” Brent said, pulling her closer again. “I want you. I want to taste your pussy, and to fuck you until you can’t bear it. I want you, Makayla.” And he captured her mouth again. And this time, he didn’t stop there. He lifted her robe and gown, lifted them until they were clean off her body, and then he carried her naked body to the backroom, to her bedroom, and tossed her on the bed.
Makayla had been with her share of alpha males before, but there was something so animalistic about Brent Sinatra that made those other men look like pretenders. He began undressing quickly, tossing his sweatshirt aside and then stepping out of his shoes and shorts. His body was glistening with sweat already, and his dick, bigger even than she had imagined it would be, was already aroused.
But he pulled her further up on the bed, got on top of her, and began kissing her again. He held her and kissed her for a long time. She felt her entire body react to his wonderful kiss. And when his mouth moved down, and he began to suck her breasts, she arched with the pleasure. Her breasts were large, and even though her nipple was her most sensitive spot, her mounds enjoyed the sensation too. Brent seemed to know it, as he paid as much attention to her mounds as he did to her nipples.
And when he moved further down, between her legs, Makayla felt her body try to slide away. He was not going easy down there. He was going hard. With not just hard, long licks, but with bites. It had been months since Makayla had sex like that, or any other kind, and her body was responding with chills of excitement. All she could do was arch and groan, as Brent went down harder and harder on her.
Until he moved back up. He rubbed his lips against hers. “I didn’t think I was coming here for this,” he said as he continued to rub.
“What are you saying?” She was still loving the way his lips felt against hers.
He didn’t know what he was saying. He was so into her! But then he realized why he had said it. “I don’t have a condom.” His heart dropped as he realized the truth. He looked at her. She was so gorgeous. He wanted her so badly! There was a time when he wouldn’t care. All he would think about was the sex and how badly he wanted it. But he was a man in his thirties now, not a kid in his twenties. Those days were gone.
“I don’t have a condom,” he said again, with a frown on his face. It took all he had to know that he wouldn’t be able to complete what he had started, and it was tearing him apart.
Makayla looked at him. She rubbed his long hair and stared at him. His juicy dick was within inches of her wet pussy. She knew, if she would only give in, he would put it in raw.
Or would he?
She’d never met a man who decided not to enter her when they came unprepared. She decided to test Brent. She was not going to let him or anybody else enter her raw, but she needed to know if he was as different as she thought he might be, or was he just like the rest of them.
“Do you want to keep going anyway, baby?” she asked him, rubbing his hair, trying
him on for size in the middle of the fire. It was the only way she could see his true character. Not when it was hypothetical, not when it was conjecture or what-if, but when it was in-his-face real. “I’m so wet right now. And so ready. Do you want to put it inside of me without a condom?”
“Yes,” Brent said in a way that sounded as if he was in pain. “I want my dick inside of you more than anything I could want in this world right now.” Then an anguished look appeared on his already serious face. “But I can’t.”
Makayla could hardly believe it. She stared at him. “You can’t?”
He shook his head. His dick was rubbing against her outer edge. “I haven’t gone raw with anybody in years, but you don’t know that. And I won’t have you worrying about it. I’ll have to go and get one. I don’t know how I’m going to separate from you long enough to do it, but I’ve got to have you baby. And I’ve got to have you tonight.”
He was about to get up, but Makayla leaned over, reached into the nightstand, and pulled out a condom.
Brent’s eyes lit up with joy.
“I don’t have it like that,” Makayla said, “but I stay prepared just in case. Now put it on and take care of your business.”
Brent felt his heart palpitate as he hurriedly put it on. But then he slowed it down. He wasn’t rushing this. He looked at Makayla and entered her like a man who had won the lottery, and wanted to savor the victory.
They made love in a euphorically slow, wonderful fuck. Brent pushed in deeper and deeper and rubbed his dickhead against every ridge of her vagina as he eyes became hooded with passion. He fucked her with a purpose that screamed beauty more than urgency. And Makayla closed her eyes as her body shook with his every gyration, and enjoyed his every gyration.
And when the feelings intensified, his gyrations did too. And soon he was there. He was in his groove. He was thrusting his dick into her with a command that made her feel as if she could really love this man. It was a crazy thought, but that was how she felt. She looked at Brent as she fucked him. And she felt it even stronger.
Big Daddy Sinatra 3: The Best of My Love (The Sinatras of Jericho County) Page 15