Big Daddy Sinatra_Bringing Down the Hammer

by Mallory Monroe

  But Charles couldn’t break away. She tasted too good. But he knew he couldn’t shortchange her either. She could cum from his oral. She’d done so many times before. But he knew she would get the ultimate cum if she came from his dick.

  He lifted his shirt over his head and tossed it aside. He would have to get another one for their dinner date. But now he was completely naked too. And then he lifted her, put her back against the wall, and she, once again, wrapped her legs around his waist.

  His hard, thick dick entered her with a shove-in that caused her to feel the sensations to the roots of her hair! And he fucked her hard. He fucked her so hard that his body was slapping into hers. And he couldn’t stop. His penis was in full erection. His body was standing straight and tall too. He was in the zone. He was loving this woman he loved so hard that he thought it could kill him. His heart was pounding. He was almost out of breath. He was fucking her as if he didn’t want her to ever forget who she belonged to, and what he could do for her, and how that Eddie character, no matter how hard he tried, didn’t stand a chance.

  And when she came, she came as hard as he had fucked her. She came clinging onto his big, muscular, sweaty body as if she couldn’t stop holding on.

  And Charles kept fucking her. He couldn’t stop even if he tried. And he wasn’t trying. Because it felt too good. Because everything within him wanted this woman and this woman only. And he had to have her in the worse way. He kept fucking her even after her cum had subsided. He kept slapping his dick into her. He kept fucking her even as she had another orgasm. And then another one.

  And that edge of cum he was feeling the entire time he was fucking her, overtook him. And then he came too. And it was a hard, unrelenting cum. His veins were near the popping point. His muscular arms looked as if he was straining to lift a truck when in reality he was just pouring into the woman he loved. And he had to get every drop of it, out or it would do him in.

  When it was all out, and he could breathe again, his body was so devoid of any energy whatsoever that he fell against Jenay.

  “I’m getting too old for this,” he said with a grin.

  But Jenay kissed him. “The day you stop fucking like this,” she said, “will be the day you die. Old my ass!”

  Charles laughed. “You’re right about that,” he said, and pulled her into his arms.

  But then he thought about that meeting, and that niggling, unsettling feeling he couldn’t shake, and his merriment dissipated.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Eddie Dorgin was nervous. This meeting was either going to go very right or go very wrong. They were either going to accept him as their partner or try to get rid of him. And with the Jenay he remembered, it could go either way. They parted on good terms after sleeping together a few times in Boston. Why wouldn’t it go right?

  Then he smiled. He knew why. That husband of hers, he thought. That was why!

  Charles Sinatra. He had the man’s entire bio right in front of him. He was sitting at a table inside the Shandra Lai, waiting for the Sinatras to arrive, and was refreshing his memory. According to the county office, Sinatra owned just over half of all properties in the entire county. One man owning half of the county. That was power. And his oldest son, Brent, was police chief, and his son Robert was mayor. Talk about cornering the market! He had four boys he had with his first wife. Two adopted daughters that were once Jenay’s stepdaughters. And one child, a girl, he had with his current wife. With Jenay. Eddie smiled. Jenay had a child. He took her as the settling down, family type. He was happy for her. She didn’t scare him.

  What scared him was that husband of hers. Because he wasn’t just some greedy businessman. Sinatra had mob in his blood: his kid brother Mick Sinatra. That was a bastard even Eddie had heard of. He ran the east coast with an iron fist, he’d heard. And ruthless wasn’t the word to describe that asshole. He was vicious as hell. Cut a man’s head off once, he’d heard. And according to the report, Mick got a lot of his viciousness, and all of his ruthlessness, from his big brother.

  Eddie drank more wine and leaned back. It would take nearly fifteen more minutes, and Eddie wondering if they were going to show up at all, when they finally showed up. They stepped out of Charles’s Jaguar and made their way inside.

  It wasn’t lost on Eddie that Sinatra kept his hand around Jenay’s waist as they entered the restaurant. It was as if he wanted to make it clear to a certain party that his wife was off limits. But Eddie was a lover from way back. No woman, no matter what her husband believed, was off limits to him!

  But it was time to forget those feelings and put on a show. And he did. He rose to his six feet frame as they arrived at his table, plastered on the biggest, most charming smile he could, and extended his hand. “Well if it ain’t that Boston girl!”

  Jenay smiled. She didn’t know if he was going to be that same fun-loving Eddie she remembered, but he was. She couldn’t help but smile. “How are you, Eddie?” she asked as she shook his hand.

  “I’m great. How have you been?”

  “I’ve been good.” He had that same big body she remembered, too. “This is Charles, my husband.”

  “And my partner,” Eddie said as he and Charles shook hands. “How are you?”

  “I’m alright.” Charles wasn’t exactly enthusiastic, but he knew how to keep it on the business, rather than the emotional end. He knew how to put on a show too.

  They sat down, with Charles placing Jenay inside of the booth seat. Jenay was surprised when she looked across the room and saw Brent sitting at the bar. She wanted to say something, to acknowledge his presence, but then she realized it wasn’t Brent’s style by a mile to be at a bar this early in the evening. He was there because his father, undoubtedly, ordered him to be there. And it was all based on Charles’s gut. He was there as backup. As a just in case. Jenay trusted Charles instincts entirely. She pretended she didn’t even notice Brent.

  “So how has life been treating you, Jenay, since I last saw you?”

  “Life’s been good, Eddie. I’m working and living and getting by.”

  “Getting by? You’re listed as the owner of the Jericho Inn. I’ll say you’re getting by alright!”

  “Why did you buy a half stake in that land next to our hotel?” Charles asked him.

  Eddie smiled. He expected direct from Sinatra, but not that direct! But he kept it moving too. “Because I’ve always liked this region of the state. When this opportunity presented itself, I jumped on it.”

  “How did it present itself?” Charles asked. “We thought we were going into business with a respected retired optometrist, but we end up with you instead. Makes me wonder if that was the plan all along.”

  “For me to acquire his half?” Eddie laughed. “I wish I was that clairvoyant! But no, sir, it was all above board. He wanted out. He knew I liked this part of the country. He let me in. That’s the long and short of it.”

  “You’ve ever owned a hotel before?” Charles asked.

  “Not even a motel. No. If you guys decide to expand on the land I now own half of, this will be my maiden voyage.”

  “What do you envision during your cruise?” Charles asked.

  Eddie laughed. “I envision a scenario where Jenay handles the day to day, and I get called in only when she needs my signature or my input. I am not interested in running a hotel. I’m interested in reaping the profits from a hotel.”

  That sounded great to Jenay. But Charles remained cautious, so she did too.

  “And what if she wants to go in a direction totally opposite of what you have in mind. What will be your response then?”

  “I’ll ask to see the plan, of course, and to hear what she has to say. But in the end, I’m going to let the expert, that would be Jenay, make the final decision. Look, I’m not here to rock the boat. I’m here to get along, and to make some money. Bottom line. I will be the proverbial silent partner.”

  He was saying the right things, Charles thought. But that only made him more suspicious
in his eyes. He was too smooth. Too schooled. He still had his doubts that this was one big coincidence that the man who now owned a half stake in land they had recently purchased just so happened to be the man who used to fuck Jenay. That was a bridge that would require too high a reach for a man like Charles to scale.

  He decided to try his suspicion on for size. “Would you care to buy us out,” he asked Eddie, “and own it all?”

  Jenay and Eddie both were shocked. Especially Jenay. “What do you mean, Charles?” she asked.

  “I mean what I said. Does he want the whole shebang? All to himself.”

  Jenay didn’t understand what Charles was up to, but she knew he was up to something. She also knew he wasn’t a frivolous man who played games when it came to business. She looked at Eddie. She put the ball squarely in his court.

  Eddie didn’t know what to say, or how to respond. This was a curveball he didn’t see coming. But he maintained that smile. That fake, plastered smile, Charles thought.

  “No,” Eddie responded. “I do not want the whole shebang. As I said earlier, I’ve never run a hotel. I wouldn’t know where to begin. Jenay’s expertise would be invaluable to me.”

  “Yeah. Uh-huh. Okay.” Charles stood up. “Let’s go, Jenay,” he said.

  Jenay was surprised. Eddie was too. “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  “I don’t know what bullshit you’re trying to peddle,” Charles said, “but we aren’t buying it. No businessman in their right mind is going to turn down the chance at one-hundred-percent stake in a piece of property. That is, if it was legit.”

  “It is legit!” Eddie said loud enough that Brent, who was pretending not to notice them, looked over. “I don’t have the expertise!” Eddie added.

  “Your ass would have hired somebody who did!” Charles fired back. “You could have built your own thing on that property. Who the fuck you think you’re fucking with? This might be Maine but I’m no fucking hillbilly!” Then Charles pointed at Eddie. “Stay away from my wife and stay away from my family. Your con won’t work here. You understand?”

  Charles hurried up to Eddie’s face. Jenay tried to pull him back because he looked as if he could rip Eddie in two. “Do you understand me, motherfucker?” Charles asked. He was totally in Eddie’s personal space, and he also had the attention of many restaurant customers.

  But Charles didn’t give a shit. This fucker was up to something, and he had to understand that it wasn’t going to work. “Do you understand me?” Charles asked him again.

  Eddie put his hands out, as if in surrender. “Yes,” he said. “I understand. Not that it makes sense to me, but I understand.”

  Charles stared at him longer, and then gave it up. He looked at Jenay instead. “Let’s get out of here,” he said. And he said it because he still felt uneasy and couldn’t shake the feeling that something was about to go terribly wrong.

  Jenay didn’t know what to think. Eddie was looking at them as if they had lost their collective minds. It was as if everything Charles was saying to him was nonsensical and the babblings of a mad man. And if Jenay were to be truthful, it seemed that way to her too.

  But she trusted Charles with her life. And she knew he wasn’t mad, nor was he frivolous. If he called Eddie out the way he did, it was for a reason.

  She slid to the end of the booth seat, took Charles offered hand, and stood up.

  But as Charles and Jenay were leaving, Eddie made matters worse. He grinned as he gave Jenay an up and down assessment. “You still got that nice ass I see,” he said to her.

  Now Jenay knew he was full of shit. Because only a fool would have thought Charles, in the state he was in, was going to let that slide.

  And Charles didn’t. As soon as those words left Eddie’s mouth, he hurried back toward Eddie. He wasn’t going to threaten him this time. He was going to knock his lights out. “Why you,” Charles said, ready to strike, but Eddie surprised him. He had a gun already in his hand and pointed it directly at Charles’s forehead.

  “What’s that you say, asshole?” Eddie asked, his fake smile now completely gone.

  The crowd in the restaurant screamed when they saw his weapon, and they all began running for cover. Jenay was terrified too, but she wasn’t about to leave her husband. She hurried toward them. To cool them both down. To place her own body between Charles and Eddie if she had to!

  Now Charles held up his hands, in surrender, and began backing away from Eddie. But not because he was afraid of the bastard. Charles wasn’t. But because he wanted to make sure he shielded Jenay in case something did go down. And he also knew he had backup. Reliable backup.

  And Brent, unlike the rest of the customers, wasn’t running for cover. He had pulled his own weapon and was heading toward Eddie Dorgin at an angle, with that gun aimed squarely at him from the side. Nobody pulled a gun on his father and got away with it.

  But Eddie wasn’t aware of any of that. All he saw was the big man backing up like the little punk he took him for, and he now had the upper hand. “You still wanna school me on what a businessman does and doesn’t do? Hun punk? And yeah, I said your wife is a fine piece of ass. Because she is!” He grinned. “She is! And maybe after she buries your ass she’ll wanna hook back up with me. Who do you think I am? Coming at me like I’m some punk? Who the fuck do you think I am?”

  “Roadkill,” Brent said from the sideline, “if you harm a hair on my father’s head!”

  His father? Eddie didn’t realize his son was in the building. Could it be the police chief? That son?

  But just as he was about to turn to see, Charles, a master at reading people, read Eddie just right. And he grabbed that gun Eddie had in his hand and turned the tables. Now it was Eddie who had a gun to his forehead.

  But Eddie wasn’t about to let that stand. He knew what he was told. He reached to regain control of his gun and a scuffle ensued.

  Brent ran over, to assist his father, but Charles didn’t need assistance. He easily wrestled control of that gun from Eddie.

  And then it was Charles, once again, who was pointing the gun at Eddie. And he was angry enough to fire.

  But then he looked hard at Eddie. In Eddie’s eyes. And Eddie was still smiling. He was still behaving as if this was all a game. What the fuck? Charles thought.

  “Pop, give me the gun,” Brent was saying. He knew his father too well. “Give me the gun, Pop.”

  Charles stared at Eddie a moment longer, and then removed the gun from the man’s head, and handed it to his son.

  Brent and Jenay both sighed release. They knew what kind of temper Charles had. Jenay hurried to Charles’s side, and Charles placed his arm around her waist. But he was still staring at Eddie.

  “When you arrest him,” Charles said to his son, “make room for daddy.”

  Eddie’s smile left, and he frowned. What did that mean?

  But Brent knew exactly what it meant. Charles suspected more. There was more at work than just some jilted ex-lover with lewd comments about his ex. “Give me half an hour,” Brent said, as he cuffed and frisked Eddie, and then hauled him out of the restaurant.

  Jenay looked at Charles. But Charles was in a contemplative mood that kept him silent. Because this shit was becoming too regular. First Ashley was attacked. Then his family home, and by necessity, his family inside that home, was shot at. And now this. It might have seemed like random events to most people. Just unfortunate happenings around a family whose patriarch was not particularly well-liked. But Charles wasn’t most people. And those random events didn’t feel random to him at all.

  And that feeling would be cemented just a few hours later, when an SUV drove up to Charles’s home and Mick Sinatra, the man known in some circles as the most powerful mob boss in U.S. history, but known in Maine as Charles’s kid brother, stepped out.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Charles knocked on the backdoor of the Jericho County Police Department and Brent opened it to let him inside. Charles then motioned for Jenay, who was sea
ted in his parked Jaguar, and she got out and went in with him.

  They were in the basement of the county jail, and Brent was escorting them to an interrogation room he used on the most violent of suspects. Which meant, in Jericho, it was rarely used. But he could justify it this time. Eddie Dorgin had pulled a gun on his father. The DA would understand.

  Robert Sinatra, Charles second-youngest son, had come over when he heard the news. As mayor of Jericho, he often got information before the general public did. The case of the man pulling a gun on his father in a public place reached him in record time.

  Robert smiled his charming smile. “I see he didn’t kill you,” he said.

  Charles smiled too. “That asshole? Not a chance!”

  “Hey, Ma,” Robert said as he and Jenay hugged. “I heard you were there too.”

  “I was,” Jenay said, still a little shaken. “But your father, as usual, handled it perfectly.”

  “Who is this guy?” Robert asked.

  “Somebody I used to know,” Jenay said.

  “He bought up half of Eye Sore, making him our new partner whether we wanted it or not. I told him no thanks, and he didn’t like it.”

  “But that’s not why you asked me to hold him for you,” Brent said. “Now is it, Pop?”

  Charles exhaled. Both of his sons could see the strain on his face. “No, it isn’t. I’m just trying to connect the dots, because there’s a connection.”

  “Between what?” Robert asked, deeply curious.

  “Between all the shit that happened last week.”

  “You mean the guy who shot up your house?” Robert asked.

  “And before that, what his son tried to do to my child, yes,” Charles said. “I think it’s all connected.”

  “But how, Pop?” Robert asked. “They just seem like random happenings to me. You know how the people around here feel about you. They’re always pulling shit on us.”

  “That’s what I said,” Jenay said.