Roz smiled. “I was, yeah. Silly me, right?”
“You got the message and backed off,” Mick said, pushing his penis against her ass in reinforcement of that message. “So, smart lady,” he said with a smile. Then he kissed her on her lips. “You always make the right move.”
Roz smiled too after his kiss. And kissed him back. “So do you, big man.”
Mick trailed kisses down her face and neck, and then began a passionate, frontal assault on her breasts.
Roz held her hands on his broad shoulders as he licked and sucked her. She craved him. Every time he did her, she wanted more. She had never been into sex this much!
But she’d never had a man like Mick, either. Because he knew what he was doing. She loved the way his big hands held her on either side just below her breasts. She loved the feel of his penis beneath her as it rested in the crack of her ass, but did not lose an inch of its erection. She turned him on and she loved that fact. Because he certainly turned her inside out too.
Mick couldn’t stop feasting on her breasts. He loved her wonderful smell, she always smelled so fresh and clean, and he loved the way her nipples hardened every time he sucked them. But he knew he had to be careful. They were in a strange room in a strange town and he wasn’t about to let anyone, not even his brother, look at Rosalind askance because they overheard what he was doing to her. But he had to have her too. He had to do her. He just had to do her quietly, unlike his normal all-out pounding.
He finally took a break from her breasts, and pulled her to him. “I want to fuck you,” he whispered in her ear in a heavy, guttural voice, “but I don’t think I can do it without scaring the shit out of every person in this house.”
Roz grinned. “I was thinking the same thing. The way we make love may not be acceptable in this little town.”
“This little town my dick,” Mick said, his mouth rubbing against her face, his cock pushing against her even harder. “It’s barely acceptable in Philly.”
Roz ran her hands through his hair. “So what are we going to do?” she asked.
“We can mouth fuck without shaking the bed,” he said, and kissed her hard on her own mouth. “I think,” he added.
And that was what they did. Mick laid down on his back, and Roz turned around on top of him, where her stomach was pressed against his stomach. She moved her smooth body further up along his long, muscular form, with her tight ass near his face, and her face hovering over his cock. He opened her legs and began licking her already wet pussy, and then eating her. She licked his fully aroused penis, and then began sucking it in that take-it-slow, romantic way of hers that made him love her more. She never did a rush job on him. No matter where they were or how much time they had. She always took her time whenever her lips touched his powerful rod.
And they did each other for a long time. Mick squeezed her ass and mouth-fuck her [pussy until her vaginal juices were pouring more than he could lick them up. Because he was hitting her spot. Because he knew how to get between her folds and lick her so deep down it felt almost as if his cock was licking her. He was so expert, and she was so masterful, that it was just a matter of time before they would be in the throes of their climax.
Roz went first. Mick was going down on her so hard that she began having spasms so hard that he could barely hold onto her. But he held on. He was the kind of man that forced her to experience the entirety of her cum even as she didn’t think she could take the intensity. But she took it. Mick made her take it. He ate her pussy as if he was eating his last meal, she was bucking and arching and loving his lips, and he would not relent until her pulsations eased and the flow of her juices ebbed.
Then he laid his head back. Exhausted. But ready to pay full attention to the oral she was giving him.
And she gave it to him in a way that would have usually had him cumming within seconds of her own orgasm. But he didn’t cum. She sucked and she sucked. She licked and took his dick in full, down her throat, but he still didn’t cum.
Mick tried to cum. He tried to focus on nothing else but her wonderful skill. She even sucked his balls to help make it happen. But it didn’t happen.
Mick knew it was because of the trip. His baby was doing nothing wrong. But seeing Charles again, seeing the kind of excellent father and husband he became, spooked him. He wondered what would have become of him if he would have stayed under Charles’s guidance. He wondered if blood would still be on his hands, or if he would have had clean hands, unburdened by the ghosts of his past. He wondered if he would have been a good enough man to be a good husband, too, and a good father, and good enough to make it to Heaven. It was too deep and filled with too many what ifs. But those kind of thoughts consumed his mind. He couldn’t get beyond those what ifs. Until Roz stopped sucking him, and turned and looked back at him, and he saw that guilt and anguish in her big, beautiful, caring eyes.
He reached out his hands to her. “Come here, baby,” he said.
Roz turned around and wen to Mick. He lifted her body, and then laid her back down on top of him, where her back was against his front, and his penis was wedged between her legs. “You’re okay?” she asked him, the concern even evident in her voice.
“I’m okay,” Mick assured her. “I’ve been thinking about shit that can’t be changed, and it’s affecting me.”
“You were thinking about what?” she asked.
“It’s not worth mentioning. I make no apologies for my life. I did what I had to do.”
“Yes, you did,” Roz said. Then she smiled. “And you certainly made me feel good.”
He smiled too. “That all that matters to me.” Then he kissed her on her lips.
He didn’t think a chaste kiss like that would be the catalyst, but it was. Because it was something about the way she kissed him back. And the way her thighs began to rub against his dick. And the way, after she saw the lust return to his hooded eyes, she placed her hand around his rod and guided it into her vagina. She was so wet that he was able to slide in easily. At least initially. Because the more aroused he grew, the harder it became. Until that old, familiar friction returned, and he was moving in molasses and feeling every sensation.
Although it took a lot more than an oral to get him there, Roz got him there. Her wet, pliable pussy got him all the way there. The more her body moved up and down along his hard shaft, accommodating his strokes, the more the feelings elevated for both of them.
And they fucked. They moved in a rhythm that felt so good that neither one of them could stop the feeling. He slid her body up and down, she slid her body up and down, and her pussy rode his penis hard. He squeezed her breasts as he fucked her, and forgot all about the bed noises they were beginning to make. And he forgot all about his brother and his brother’s children and his own failure as a father and concentrated on his woman. And the love his woman was giving to him. Until he was cumming with a thunderous cum. His legs bent and his muscles tightened and he poured out so hard that it overwhelmed Roz’s own sensuality. And she started having an orgasm, another one, too.
And he kept fucking her. He lifted her legs, to get the deepest angle, as he fucked her. He thrashed her and pounded her. And her entire body gave into the feeling that she thought was too much to take. What they thought was going to be an easy lay, just a quick mouth-fuck, turned into a lovemaking session that caused them to forget about where they were, and just completely enjoy each other. They only lived once, and they were living that night!
Although they never discussed it in any detail at all, Mick knew Roz was on birth control. He never dated a woman as responsible as Roz who wasn’t. And it was a good thing tonight because he knew, if she had not taken the pill, and given the way he was pouring inside of her and still putting it on her, there was no doubt in his mind that conception would have occurred. It was too electrifying. Too special. And they rode it out until they couldn’t ride any longer.
Mick laid Roz’s legs back down, pushed his dick deep inside of her one last time, until bo
th of them, satisfied beyond belief, gave out.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Jenay had to work the next day. It couldn’t be helped. A major tech convention was being held at the hotel and she had to oversee the staff and make sure everything went off without a hitch. It was one of their biggest events of the year. But Charles, in testament to the importance of his baby brother’s visit, did that rarest of feats and actually took the day off. It astounded even his wife. But he wanted this reunion to work as much as Mick wanted it to work, and he decided that he would show Mick and Roz the sights and sounds of a town that may not have changed in its atmosphere, but had a lot of changes in its look and presentation.
But after breakfast, as the threesome walked out of the front door, Robert drove up in his Infiniti. He got out in his expensive suit and shoes, as if he was emulating his father’s style, looking more like a playboy than a property manager if you asked Charles, but Mick and Roz loved his enthusiasm.
“Why aren’t you at work?” Charles asked him.
“I took the day off,” Robert boldly proclaimed.
“Oh you did, did you?”
“I figured I’ll be your chauffeur for today. Uncle Mick’s used to being chauffeured around, I’m sure of that. So I figure we can take the Masi and I’ll drive you guys around.”
Mick and Roz laughed. Charles shook his head. “You always find a way to make it all about you. Don’t you, Robert?”
“Always,” Robert said with a grin.
But if he thought Mick was going to toss his keys to him, he was sadly mistaken. “Sorry son,” Mick said, “but I don’t lend out my baby.”
“I’m not asking to ride Roz,” Robert quipped. “Just your car.”
Roz and Charles couldn’t help but laugh. Even Mick smiled at his nephew’s quick comeback. And then Mick turned serious. “It’s Miss Graham to you,” he said.
But Robert continued to smile. He felt ridiculous referring to Roz that way. Especially since they were practically the same age. It would be like little Brent, Junior being forced to refer to little Bonita, who was younger than Junior, as his auntie. “Yes, sir,” he said.
Robert’s enthusiasm was effectively curbed. Roz saw it, and Mick did too. Just as Mick had undoubtedly curbed his own children’s enthusiasm all these years when he was emotionally absent from their lives. A confident man like Tyson Graham, Roz’s brother, could handle the rejection. But Robert was just getting to know Mick. Mick had to show some signs that he wanted to get to know Robert and all of Charles’s children too. He had to change. And if he didn’t start now, when was he going to start?
And then, he did something that shocked even Roz. Shocked Charles too and he didn’t know him like that. Mick tossed the keys of his four-door, Maserati Quattroporte to Robert.
Robert couldn’t stop grinning as he got behind the wheel. Mick sat Roz on the passenger seat, and then he and Charles, like two titans of industry on a well-deserved vacation, got in the backseat. And Robert happily chauffeured them all around Jericho. He was also extremely careful to hit the hot spots, where he knew females roamed, to make sure the ladies saw him driving all around Jericho, but driving a Maserati.
But then he took them off the beaten path. At first Mick and Charles were in the backseat talking so much that they didn’t realize what was going on. Until Roz asked, “who lives here?” And it was only then did both men look out of the car’s window. That was when they realized where Robert had actually taken them. Charles looked at Mick. Mick’s heart fell through his shoe.
Charles saw the sudden distress on his kid brother’s face. He looked at Robert. “Turn around,” he ordered. “Let’s get out of here.”
But Mick knew confronting ghosts was what this trip was all about. And the largest one of all lived in this very house. “No,” he said. “Don’t go anywhere.” He unbuckled his seatbelt and got out of the car. He also opened the door for Roz so that she could get out with him. Charles was impressed by how much his brother depended on Roz. A man was really strong, he felt, until he understood the limits of his strength.
Mick and Roz walked toward what was now a rundown, very dilapidated two-story home. Robert was about to get out too, but Charles told him to stay. “Let him have his private time,” he said. Then he asked his son why in the world did he bring his uncle here?
“I thought he’d get a kick out of seeing the old place again.” Then he looked at his father through the mirror. “You come here every now and then.”
That was true, but Charles knew this place affected him differently than it affected Mick. What they experienced here made Charles stronger, but it broke Mick down. It hardened both men, but it took Mick to another level of hardness. Charles looked at his brother as he and Roz walked toward the house. Mick lost his way right on this very soil, and all these years later, Charles still blamed himself. He didn’t know what to do. He was so young and so inexperienced and so unable to figure out how to take the shattered lives of his baby brother and his now-deceased immature big sister, lives their father ruined, and put them back together again. He didn’t know how to do it. That was why he never sold the property. It would be like selling their souls, because a part of each of their souls was still within this awful place. That was why Charles still visited these grounds. That was why Charles looked away now. It was too painful to see Mick standing there again. But Mick continued to stand.
And he held Roz’s hand as he stood. Although he did not initially say a word, but just stood there, it didn’t take Roz very long to figure out that they were standing in front of Mick’s childhood home. And then Mick spoke.
“That was my bedroom up there,” he said, pointing to a window whose wooden frame had long since decayed. “Our sister’s bedroom was beside mine. I still hear my daddy going in that room at night. I still remember laying in my own bed listening to him fuck her, and thinking about how I was going to kill his ass one day.”
Roz stared at Mick. And squeezed his hand.
“Charles bedroom,” he said, “was around back. Dad made sure of that.” Then he pointed at the window beneath the first floor. “That was the basement.”
Roz knew what happened in that basement. “We can leave if it’s too much,” she said.
“That’s where it all went down,” he said, refusing to even entertain leaving. “That’s where we were when my father shot and killed my mother’s lover, and then shot and killed my mother. Right in front of all three of us.”
Roz leaned closer against him, as his expressive eyes began to glisten.
“He didn’t give a damn, you see,” Mick continued. “He didn’t care what damage he was doing to his own children. My sister Sprig was the oldest. She was sixteen, but she lied and said she was eighteen and they let us stay together because of that lie. Because mentally, she was nowhere near capable. She was already damaged goods from all the abuse. She might as well have been six for the lack of judgment and insight she had. And our father knew it when he pulled that trigger. He knew nobody was going to take care of us, nobody was going to love us, but Charles. And Charles was only thirteen.”
Mick squeezed Roz’s hand harder. Roz leaned even closer. “We never were the same again,” he said. “Sprig became a drunk and a whore. Married a crazy-ass police commissioner. Nobody could tell her anything. And then, as if to rub it in, as if this shit didn’t stank enough, her own son, some gangster fucker named Sal Gabrini, ended up killing her. Her own son! They claimed he had no choice. That’s what his cousin Reno told me. But what do they expect me to do? Let somebody kill my sister and there be no retribution?”
“Yes,” Roz said definitively. “If he had no choice, yes.” She wasn’t protecting Sal Gabrini, a man she didn’t know, she was protecting her own man.
But Mick didn’t respond to that. He couldn’t. Dealing with Sprig’s death was another ghost he had yet to deal with. Then he exhaled. “But that’s the way Sprig’s life went. All downhill from right here. And you see how I turned out.”
Roz looked at him. And shook her head. “No, Mick,” she said. “It wasn’t about turning out for you. Not after what happened in this house. Not after witnessing your mother’s death at your father’s hand, and then your father’s incarceration for every day of your formative years. It was about surviving. And you survived. You were tough and hard because you had to be. But you’re no bad man, Mick. You don’t start shit. You finish it. But you don’t start it. You’re a good man in my eyes. No man has ever treated me better than you have. Not ever.”
Mick removed his hand from hers and placed his arm around her waist. She made him feel human again. Because looking at this place, standing on this property, only brought back the demons. “Let’s go,” he said, and they left.
The ride after that should have been more somber. Charles expected that it would be. But Roz started asking questions about this landmark and that lake and soon the mood became festive again. At one point, as Charles was playing tour guide again, his hand landed on top of Mick’s hand. And he left it there. He wanted to tell him that he was sorry he didn’t do more to rein him in. He wanted to tell him he was sorry he didn’t have the wherewithal to raise him right, and that guilt nearly ate him alive. But he didn’t say a word. He wasn’t there yet. He, instead, allowed his hand to linger on top of his brother’s hand. And his brother, feeling the force of that gentle touch as if it was love itself, allowed it to linger too.
Then a sound so loud it cause everybody to jerk forward and the front airbags to deploy.
“What the fuck?” Robert yelled nervously as he swerved to a stop. Charles and Mick looked back to see what fool ran into the back of them, but the car drove from behind them, and then quickly began to speed away.
But Mick wasn’t about to let him get away that easily. “You okay, Rosalind?” he asked as he hurriedly unbuckled his seatbelt and got out of the car. Charles got out too.
Mick Sinatra 2: Love, Lies, and Jericho Page 16