by lanie love
“Stop it.” I tickle her.
“You remember what happened the last time they came? I’m still finding sand in the den.”
Last summer, they swore it was too hot for a then 2-year-old Malcolm to go out and play in the sun, so they decided to bring the beach inside for him.
“Nothing is too much trouble for my grandson.” Grandma Jane told Beth when she nearly had a heart attack at the 3-inch-deep pile of sand in the den.
“Well, Heathcliff isnt even here yet, so I think we’re safe this visit.”
“No, no-na-no. We are not naming our son after a damn cartooned alley cat.” She says. “Especially, since you named our first born after some silly TV show character.”
“We agreed. I would name our boys and you would name our girls.”
“But we haven’t had a girl yet.”
“Whose fault is that?”
“Yours.”
“Maybe you have a point there. But a deal is a deal, Baby.”
“You are so full of shit.”
“Mmmm, careful. Remember what happened the last time you told me that.”
“Full. OF. Shit.” She mouths the words this time.
“I’ll show you what I’m full of, woman.”
“But you’ve already filled me up with this little guy.” She says, rubbing her stomach. “And I think some of you is still oozing out of me from when you filled me up thirty minutes ago.” She moves her ass from the wet spot she’s been sleeping in.
“It’s not enough.” I tell her. “When it comes to loving you, it will never be enough.”
I pull the cover over our heads and pull her on top of me. She groans when she feels my erection poking her leg.
“Here we go again.”
This is not the End!
KEEP SCROLLING FOR THE FINAL EPILOGUE!
Reviews are greatly appreciated.
Indian Summer
The Next Generation
By Lanie Love
Twenty Years Later
Indian Summer of 2038
Chapter One
Cliff was bored out of his mind. Every damn year he was forced to attend this Ballroom Dancing Affair to Remember and every damn year, it’s nothing but the same ol’ shit: A bunch of rich bastards pretending like they give a damn about people who are less fortunate than they are.
And these are the same damn down and out people they’d turn their noses up at if they passed them on the street because they’re from areas they dare not venture into or think about on any other damn day of their lives.
Cliff found them all pathetic the way they strutted around throwing money, with one exception: Mary Beth Mason-Lowe. She is the one and only reason he can tolerate this damn event. She is the one and only reason why he has the reserve not to tell all these people to go straight to hell. He promised her he would be on his best behavior tonight. For him, that means keeping to himself and keeping his mouth shut. Anything else would get him in hot water and break his mother's heart.
He'd already done that a few weeks ago when he came home from Yale for summer break and announced he wasn't going back. His mother was devastated and his father was livid. He's been avoiding his dad ever since.
Island Lowe is a reasonable man who doesn't ask too much from his three kids. The only thing he ever asked Cliff to do was to graduate college and he can't even give the man that after everything he's done for him. He knows he hasn’t made life easy for his dad.
His older brother, Malcolm, is the golden child of the family. He’s so easy going and likeable. He never gives their parents any trouble. Then comes Cliff a few years later, all fucked- up in the head from being trapped in a fire as a kid. He has been nothing but trouble ever since. Thank God for Maryanne, who came along and evened things out a bit.
Cliff would do anything for his little sister. It’s been that way since the moment he saw her. She was such a small little thing, so innocent and helpless. He knew he had to take care of her. She was and is the only one that is allowed to come close to touching him. Everyone else can just look at him and send him into a rage. It just hurts too damn much to be touched.
And there lies the heart of his problem. It was driving him crazy in school to fly into a rage of painful panic every time someone went to touch him.
He was a handsome guy. He knew it, and he had money on top to that. He was heir to the Estabrook hotel chain and he was part of a Hollywood legacy. His grandfather had a star on the Hollywood walk of fame. That alone guaranteed him any girl he wanted and the second he hit puberty, he pretty much got any girl he wanted.
Malcolm had already told him about college life. About how easy the pussy would come around to him. Cliff didn't believe it until he experienced it himself. He had a goddamn cornucopia of pussy just begging to be fucked. But being the fucked-up piece of shit he is, he couldn't do it. How was he to explain that he was so messed up he couldn't be touched. He had no choice but to refuse and of course, the rumors about how weird he was soon followed. He went from college stud to weird recluse in the span of a semester.
As it stands, there is really no way in hell he’s going to go back to that shit. As wound up as he still is, he’s ready to kill someone at that fucking school. He can see himself on the news now with a sniper rifle up-top the clock tower just picking them off one by one. No, he wouldn't be going back to Yale ever again.
The one woman who dared touch him got her ass handed to her in the form of a black eye and a concussion: Marla Baxter. She was some washed up 26-year-old starlet who jacked her face up with too much plastic surgery and she happened to be one of his mom’s clients. Marla was a Meth head and had destroyed her teeth. Beth Lowe had to do extensive work on her.
Cliff happened to be in his mother’s office one day when Marla came in with her kid, but Cliff wasn't getting any motherly vibes from her. She was desperate and flirty, which he was okay with. It wasn’t the first time he’d caught the eye of an older woman, but then she went and made that one mistake. She touched him. The next thing he knew she was unconscious on the office floor at his feet.
Her husband was out for Cliff's blood. He’d admitted what he'd done, apologized because he was genuinely sorry. Of course, Beth made sure she got the best of care, but her husband wanted criminal charges to be filed.
Of course, anyone who is anyone knows the one thing you don't want to do is mess with one of Island Lowe's kids. He wasn't a man who would sugar coat shit for them. If bells weren't going off in his head, he would be the main one letting Cliff take his medicine for his mistake. But what Island wanted to know was what the hell business Marla Baxter had putting her damn hands on his son.
It just didn't sit right with him and the more he questioned it, the more the Baxters backed off it. Cliff didn't admit to a thing. Mainly, because his mother's business was involved. He was embarrassed enough about the whole thing not to want to escalate it. It was soon dropped and forgotten, but to this day, Island morphs into a daddy lion every time Marla makes an appearance at one of their events and this one is no exception.
Island watches her like a hawk whenever she is around any of his kids. She knows better than to even look in Cliff's direction when he's around.
So here he is, 19 years old, back home with his parents, and still a goddamn virgin. Not only a virgin, but a virgin with raging hormones that keep him on the defensive all damn day, so he has to sit off by himself instead of mingling with his parents and this boring ass crowd.
"Way to look like a log, little brother." Malcolm says coming to sit next to him.
"Kiss my ass." Cliff snaps at him.
"Malcolm, don't goad your brother." Beth scolds him.
"Sorry, Mom. I'm just itching for this raffle to get underway."
"Which poor, defenseless girl are you going to subject to you this year, big brother?" Cliff gets him back. Malcolm looks over at his mom, but she stays quiet at Cliff's goading of him.
"Well, he has a point, Malc." She tells him with a wink, slidin
g over a blank check so he can have a chance at the raffle and have the first dance of the evening.
She slides one over to Cliff too. He takes it, but neither he nor Beth expects him to use it. Cliff looks at the girls gathering on the stage to find his baby sister. At sixteen, she lives for this part of the event. Even though her dad is usually the one who outbids all the boys for her ticket. This year, he is under strict orders from his daughter to not bid for her dance. After all, she just had her sweet sixteen and according to her, that means she's a woman.
Malcolm and Cliff joke that their mother is going to have to tie their dad's hands down to keep them from waving his bid for her and depending on the boy, Malcolm and Cliff just might bid for her themselves. She may think she's a woman standing up there looking all beautiful, but the men in her family think differently and pity the poor guy who doesn't agree with their way of thinking.
"Ho-lee Shit." Cliff curses under his breath when he sees the girl standing next to his sister.
"Mom, who is that?" He points her out to his mother.
"Sienna. Remember, I told you about her? She's being fostered by the Townsends."
"That’s the kid?"
He'd always assumed she was much younger. She’d just moved in with the Townsends at the beginning of summer. They live right next door and Beth told her children to go over and make the girl feel welcomed. Malcolm and Maryanne had done so, but Cliff wasn't in the mood to make a friend with some little kid. Damn did he miss out.
This "kid" got his attention in an instant. Hell, she is a knockout as far as he is concerned. She’s just his type. He hadn't known he even had a type. “Pussy is pussy” is what his brother always says, but now he realizes just what an idiot his brother is because this girl wasn't just pussy.
He can’t even describe what she is but "just pussy" sure the hell isn't it. He watches her while the other girls go up for raffle. She is sticking close to Maryanne as they smile and talk to each other. Knowing his sister, she is probably talking her ear off.
Finally, it’s her turn. Cliff can't take his eyes off her as she moves awkwardly to the center of the stage. He can't help but smirk at her standing there looking like she hopes the ground will swallow her up. He’s mesmerized by her, until he realizes that the raffle is underway and she is about a second away from being auctioned off to that Tate Wayne asshole who he got into a fight with seventh grade and ended up being kicked out of school.
"One thousand."
Cliff gets his head out of his ass long enough to bid, stopping his dad from saying the word sold. That's about as much as he still has from his last birthday. His Great Grandma Jane had slipped it to him in a card and told him to keep it to himself, knowing his mom would not approve of the gesture. His great grandparents, on both sides, have long been accused of spoiling them all. The fact that he just blew the gift on a damn three-minute dance with a girl he's never even talked to would make his great grandmother extremely happy.
Island Lowe almost drops the mic when he hears the voice of his middle child actually participating in the event.
"Five thousand."
Tate counters the bid and Cliff wonders where the hell he is going to get money to keep bidding, until he remembers his mom's blank check.
"Ten thousand." He says before turning to Beth. "I'll pay you back, Mom."
Beth, absentmindedly nods. She meant to tell him there wasn't a chance in hell she'd let him pay her back, but she is still speechless over her son showing interest in, not only the raffle, but a girl. Malcolm is having the same reaction as Beth and so is Island. Only Maryanne seems to be unaware and enjoying it. Her friend has gotten the highest bid of the evening and it’s still growing. Sienna is the only one who looks downright mortified at the pissing contest in her honor.
"Twenty thousand." Tate yells out with a cocky grin, knowing there was no way anyone would outbid him. The way that asshole is eyeing Sienna like she is a fresh piece of meat pisses Cliff off.
All eyes fall on him and Island is damn near about to bid on his son's behalf because there is no way this Tate asshole is going to win over his son if he has anything to say about it. But he knows his son well enough to know it would only prove to embarrass him, so he bites his tongue and lets it ride.
"Going once." Island starts out as slow as he possibly can. "Going twice."
Cliff looks at the blank check in his hand and then looks at Beth who is nodding her head so hard he is surprised it hasn't fallen off.
"Thirty thousand dollars." Cliff yells out. The collective gasp from the crowd sucks all the oxygen from the ballroom.
"Sold to Heathcliff Lowe." Island quickly says, adding a little fist pump and a "That's my boy." That makes the crowd laugh. Cliff quickly gets up to claim his dance partner.
Sienna tentatively takes his hand and lets him help her off the stage. She is silently praying she doesn't trip in the drop-dead gorgeous guy's arms while listening to an excited Maryanne clap her hands behind her.
"Hi, I'm Cliff." He introduces himself to her once he gets her off stage and away from the eyes of the crowd.
"Sienna." She shyly tells him her name.
"Nice to meet you, Sienna."
"Nice to meet you, Cliff."
Chapter Two
Nice to meet you, Cliff. Nice to meet you, Cliff.
Cliff. Cliff. Cliff.
The way she says his name is on automatic repeat in his head. He likes it that much. Many girls have said it, but he really never paid it any mind unless they called it out with a high-pitched squeal that annoyed him to the point that blood nearly ran from his ears. For some reason, they think it’s cute, but it’s only cute when his sister does it. Maybe now, Sienna could do it. It would probably be cute then, but for a whole other reason than when Maryanne does it. Something tells him he wouldn't mind her saying it in a high-pitched tone, preferably while he banged her.
"Um." She says. He realizes he's been standing silently staring at her for too long and it’s making her uncomfortable. So much so that she is thinking of something to say herself. "I'm really not very good at dancing." She looks over at the large checkered dance floor at the center of the room.
"No big deal." He says with a shrug and watch as her eyes widen from his attitude.
"You just spent thirty thousand dollars to dance with me and you may end up with a broken toe when we're done." She felt the need to warn him about her two left feet.
"It would be worth it." He can't help but say. After all, it's the truth. Why bother hiding it?
"For just one dance? They aren't really gonna make you pay all that, are they?"
Cliff just smiles an answer. He can see she is already freaked out enough at the idea of being the prize of a dance when she doesn't think she's good at it. No need to make it any worse for her.
"It's all done in fun. Besides, there was no way I was going to let Tate win."
Sienna looks over to where the other boy who was bidding on her is still sitting. He is visibly fuming as he watches her with Cliff. Never one to not rub it in when he wins, Cliff looks him dead in the eye as he moves even closer to Sienna, placing his hand as if he’s grabbing her ass, but he's not even close to touching it. The poor girl is not even aware that he's doing it as she stares at Tate.
"You two really don't like each other." she says, watching the angry boy get up from the table and storm off with his second choice for the first dance. She's a blonde who Sienna thinks is beyond gorgeous. Why he's so mad at not winning her dance when he won the blondes dance is a mystery to her. She just chalks it up to him wanting to get back at Cliff.
Either way, it really isn't any of her business what it’s all about. She has problems of her own that are much bigger than some stupid playground game between two boys. She’s just trying her best to fit in.
When her caseworker told her there was a home available, she couldn't believe it. It was a mixture of uncertainty and anxiety as to where she was going to end up. After all these years, you'd th
ink she’d be used to it and for the most parts she is, but there’s still that lingering fear of the unknown. Not many foster families want to house a kid her age.
Lucky for her, the Townsends, have been decent. They go out of their way to make her feel welcome and Sienna appreciates that. She catches them staring at her sometimes, but it’s not in that creepy, she needs to sleep with a kitchen knife under her pillow, kind of stare. It’s more one of concern.
Roger and Francine Townsend are indeed very concerned about Sienna. They took to the friendly teen from the start. She brings new life to the house, a freshness to it that they hadn't realized was missing until she came along. When Francine first brought up the idea of being foster parents, Roger thought she'd lost her mind. Here he was getting ready to retire early. He was looking forward to buying that decked out RV he'd had his eye on and taking off with Francine cross country. Fishing, camping, and hunting was all he wanted to do.
He knew she wanted kids, that she hated she’d missed her shot at them, but damn, they were too old for this shit now. After a year of pestering him about it, he agreed. But only if the kid was of age. No diapers or having to deal with first days of school and hand holding and all that stuff. He told her the older the better.
The case worker told them about the risk of older teens. They had problems, no doubt about it. Most had been exposed to too much. But when they were finally approved and were told that a teen was available, Roger still thought the idea was perfect.
He preferred it be a boy, but he didn't voice it. He thought it would be kind of weird to make that request about another person. It’s not like he was getting a new puppy. Plus, Francine wanted a girl around, on that, he was sure.
They had been told a little about Sienna's background just so they would know what they were getting themselves into and it broke Francine's heart. She’d already fallen in love with the girl before she even laid eyes on her. Roger was feeling bad for the young girl too, and when he finally met her, it pissed him off even more. She was a little slip of a thing with long red hair and pretty green eyes that still held some innocence in them. All he wanted to do was to get his hands on the bitch that took advantage of her.