by J G Jerome
Durec chips in, *They have developed a sense of humor over the years. They can be quite funny.*
I respond, ‘I’m sure.’
I look at Trina to see her looking at me in amazement. “They’re alive, aren’t they?”
I nod. “Crap. I’ve gotta be more careful.” I run my hands over my scalp. “You know what? I think that is one of the most dangerous secrets that exist. Please don’t think about it. If you can forget it, please do.” I strip off the rest of my clothes and wrap Trina in a tender kiss. Then I take Little Jack for a walk to the loo. “I’m gonna shower real quick, I’m all sweaty from the gig.”
“And other things, she responds.” Finishing Jack’s walk, I start up the shower. By the time the water is warm, Trina has joined me, and we walk in the shower hand-in-hand. We take turns wetting our bodies and soaping each other with lots of kisses and caresses in between. We avoid getting her hair wet; so,she doesn’t have to dry it before bed. Trina shuts off the shower as I grab a towel and dry her and then myself.
Trina brushes her hair as I brush my teeth. She has her loose ponytail style going by the time I’m done and place my toothbrush into the glass on the sink. She immediately snags it and brushes her teeth with it. “What?” I ask. “I thought you had your own.”
She gives me a foamy grin, “I like yours better.” I roll my eyes and squeeze her ass.
With that I head to the bedroom to set all my dirty clothes aside. My earlier shirt is still damp, but I do remember to pull out the card from my shirt pocket. There is a $100 bill wrapped around a glossy calling card. I put those both in my wallet.
She joins me a bit later and pulls out her ‘laundry drawer.’ She pulls out our workout clothes and puts our dirties in, knocking on the drawer before wrapping it all back up. I pull the sheets down, set my holster by the bed, and crawl under the sheets. She joins me in the middle of the bed. “No shirt tonight?” I ask.
She shakes her head, “Not yet.”
We kiss and caress each other slowly, lovingly, drawing it out. We eventually end up making love the same way until she’s had a couple of orgasms, and I’ve had one of my own. Rolling onto my back, I turn out the lights and pull her to my chest. I fall asleep with her wrapped around my chest.
Chapter 24 - Meeting Peg
Trina is laying next to me, and I’m spooned around her when we wake up around 7:45 am. I squeeze her, and press myself closer to her. Of course, I’ve got morning wood going on, and Little Jack is resting between her taut cheeks.
Trina wiggles her ass, “Someone’s awake.”
“Hmm-hmm. You up for helping with a little problem?”
“No morning sex before 7:30.”
“It’s 7:45.”
“Well in that case, lay back ‘cause cowgirl wants to ride!”
“Yes ma’am.” No sooner am I flat on my back, when Trina steps over me and lines me up for her entrance. She sinks slowly onto my morning wood with a sigh.
“Jack it’s way too long since I last had you inside me!”
“Trina, Love. We made love right before falling asleep!”
“Right? I went all night without you inside of me!” she says indignantly. She bottoms out and adds, “This is much better.” Then she leans forward to kiss me as she flexes her legs to slide up and down my pole. I grab her ass cheeks and squeeze firmly. She gasps and sit back a bit, which points her breasts at my face. I keep squeezing her asset as I lick, nip, and pull at her nipples - alternating back and forth.
As her breathing gets more ragged, I tell her “I’m ready when you are.” She nods and starts slamming into me. I can’t keep up with her breasts using my mouth; so, I resort to squeezing and pulling one nipple while squeezing the alternate cheek. I pull my heels toward my ass and buck up to meet her down strokes.
She looks at me with fire in her eyes as she gasps for breath. She closes her eyes, “Now Jack!”
I drive up and hold it as she spasms around my squirting member. I drop to the mattress and catch her as she falls forward, wrapping my arms around her tightly and nibbling her neck. I drive up for delivery of the second and third loads and then lie flat holding her as the rest of my deliveries come in. I caress her back. “I love you, Trina.”
She squeezes me and looks into my eyes. “I love you, too. I don’t know how it’s possible, but I do, Jack. As crap as the situation with work is, I’m really tempted to never go back. My mom would understand. So would Myra, but I can’t do that to her.” She bites her lip.
“Myra told me to take the week to be with you. She tried to make light of it, but I get the feeling she’s worried for me. She learned something from the time we dropped her off that has her scared.”
I nod. “I understand. I don’t know the first thing about how the court works, but I’m very tempted to load up with weapons and go kill a few Sidhe, and drag her out of there. She’s my wife, and our love. I want her safe.”
Trina gives a wry grin, “Tempting, but we should probably save that for a last resort.”
I chuckle, “For sure, that’s always a last-resort course of action.”
“Have you done a lot of that kind of thing, Jack?”
I ponder what to tell her for a moment as I nod absently. “Yeah,” I finally say. “Although I was officially an artillerymen, most of the combat I saw had me holding the artillery in my hand clearing a building or assassinating someone. I did 42 raids, and three assassinations. As much as those fuckers needed to die, I hated the assassinations. They’re too easy. If you set it up right, they have no chance to defend themselves. They leave you feeling dirty. On the flip side, the raids frequently had more collateral damage. Family members, neighbors, animals. We would sometimes lose one of ours on raids. Someone ended up wounded in most raids, but nine of them we lost one of ours - either a soldier or an operator from an agency. One time we lost three. That’s the one two of my bullet holes came from. So...yeah I’ve done a fair amount of that kind of thing.” I think on it a little more.
“I keep thinking I’m done and then something happens. Twice Abu bin Hassan sent teams after me. After the last one, Elaine tried to kill me. I’ve gone quite a stretch without anyone trying to kill me. Maybe I was getting too complacent; so, fate decided to cook up a new shit sandwich for me to eat.” I look her, “I will gladly chew every bite for the joy I get holding you in my arms.”
She kisses me gently, stroking my face with her hands. She drops her face into the crook of my neck. “I don’t know what to do, Jack. I will protect you. I will protect Myra. I will protect my mother. I will protect myself.” She sighs. “The stuff with Cholley and Silk makes me think I’m being targeting, but I can’t think of a reason other than messing with Myra. The business with Corrina being under a geas is troubling, but again - why? The more I think about it, though, the less sense it makes.”
I stroke her hair and back as she lays atop me while I’m still inside her. It feels like home. “Hey, Trina. We were discussing the Summer douchebags maybe working with someone in the Winter court. What if we are overthinking this? What if it’s just as simple douche-prince Corwyn said? Either he wanted to rule the Winter court, or the...his queen is trying to really become the ruler of all faerie. What other options?”
She raises up to look at my face as she considers my words. “There are only three. Corwyn wanted to breed his way into regency of the Winter court, he was working with one of our clans, or his queen wants to rule it all. I think you’ve come up with all of them. The first two are easy to understand conceptually. The third is a convoluted mess before you married Myra. There would have to be a bunch of moving pieces. That avenue has been mostly stymied but ‘TT’ is wily old fox bitch.”
“TT?” I ask.
“That’s my shorthand for their queen. Some of her initials. It fits.”
“Would destroying the morale, soul, or sanity of Myra aid in that? There are other princesses, right?”
She nods, “Yes. Myra is actually the middle princess. The elde
st is certifiably insane. As tradition would encourage, her name is Morgan. She is violently sadistic. Her mother keeps her on a tight leash. When she wants someone to feel her displeasure she will generally torture them herself. When she wants to terrify them, she unleashes Morgan. She isn’t particularly expert at weapons. She is adept, but her tactics are unconventional and unexpected. Morgan would be beautiful if she took care of herself at all, but she doesn’t. Her hair is generally wild, it’s not unusual for her scalp to be bare in spots. She has scabs on her skin, including her face. She reeks of her own waste, sweat, and whatever she has wiped on her clothing. I’ve seen her walk around with dried blood on her face for days at a time. She is scary, but it’s tragic. She is several generations older than Myra and myself. Her mother was careful to keep Morgan away from Myra as she grew up after she caught Morgan poking Myra with a stiletto when she was three.”
She is lost in thought for a moment. “Her youngest is Megan. She is more timid than Charli; although, she is proficient with weaponry. I don’t think she can imagine actually hurting anyone. It might be an act to deceive everyone into making them think she is no threat, but if that’s true then acting is her calling. Where Morgan would look like her mother’s younger sister - same hair, same figure. Megan has Myra’s hair coloring, almond-shaped brown eyes, and a voluptuous figure like her mother. Myra is beautiful, but Megan makes her look plain. She has degrees in economics, accounting, and art. She is a gifted painter. She got a law degree about two years ago. She really doesn’t fit as a Sidhe in that apparently she isn’t interested in influence, politics, or power. Liesl befriended her as a child, but Megan is reclusive enough that I can’t think of a single person that knows her well or that is close to her. The same is true of Morgan.”
I nod, “Well, having recruited and run agents, Megan would be a prime candidate to suborn. If I were looking for a spy I would start there, but I don’t even know what to look for in this case. Did Corrina tell you anything about Cholley?”
Trina shakes her head, “She put Marisol on it, but she just got into town yesterday. I’ll learn more when I get back to the office.”
I frown a bit, “When we were all playing together last night, you said you were going to stay with me a week. Obviously you’re welcome, but were you joking?”
“I was. I thought Myra would say ‘no way.’ Instead, she played along. I’m not sure when she’s expecting me back. I’ll ping her today.” She bows her head to nuzzle my neck again.
“Okay,” I say. “Well if you stay the week, I’ll probably end up taking you with me to Hartford. You okay to fly? Myra wasn’t particularly enamored with aircraft.”
“She doesn’t really like automobiles either. Part of it is the thought of being surrounded by so much metal. None of us really like that much; we prefer to be surrounded by nature or stone. The other part is moving at speeds that you really can’t control. At the speed that cars and airplanes move you really only influence the outcome. With a small variation in the environment or a small mechanical failure you lose control and that could end up with a catastrophic result. As we have essentially human bodies, even ones that heal faster and more completely, we can’t absorb that kind of damage. Myra is worse about dealing with that than most. She’s extremely risk averse. She does better when I’m driving as she trusts me more than anyone else.”
She raises her head up, “That’s one thing that has me puzzled. I always drive her. She insists on it. She likes and trusts Daphne, but not to drive. Same with Corrina and Marisol. If not being assigned as her permanent driver, I probably would have been in the ranks as a Raven next to Liesl years ago. Yet, she has sent me off for the weekend, and potentially for the week. It makes no sense.”
I give my best wise, “Hmmmm.”
“She’s trying to get me out of the way.” She scrunches her face into the cutest little frown. “Why?”
“What would cause you to send her away from you, Trina?”
She nods. “She’s worried about my safety.”
“Who else could you ask that might know what dangers are pointing at you?”
“Peg!” She jumps up off of me, and Little Jack whimpers as he slides out of her warmth. Trina grabs the pad and pen from the desk and scribbles out a short note. She puts it in her mouth, and pulls out the laundry bag. She puts the note in the empty drawer, raps on wood, and closes the bag.
I get up and pull on my boxers and a t-shirt while Trina stands over the bag waiting.
“Pet, we have another property to look at today.”
She doesn’t take her eyes off the bag. “Oh? Did that bitch in Prescott find another poor excuse to try to get you in her clutches?”
I laugh, “As a matter of fact, she did. However, I told her to try harder. KC got a listing yesterday afternoon that he wants to show me before we go back. It sounds nearly perfect. We’re supposed to meet him at his office at 10:00.”
She nods with a gentle smile, but doesn’t look up. “I like KC. What time do we need to leave?”
“His office is at the end of this block. As we have time, I was thinking I’d get a quick workout in, shower, and then we would check-out, breakfast, meet him there.”
“You better hurry, Master. That’s a lot to fit in.” She graces me with a bright smile at that before turning her attention bag to the cloth box.
“Yes, my Pet.” I walk over to grab my flannel shirt from dinner last night, and put it on her glorious frame. “I hate to cover up your body, but I don’t want you to catch cold, Beloved.”
I head back to the nightstand and set the Tabita HIIT timer app to six sets of 90 seconds with 90 second rest breaks and start it. During the ‘Prepare’ interval, I hear a knock come out of the bag. The bell rings and I start my first set of air squats as Trina opens the bag and pulls out a note and reads it quickly. She scribbles a quick bit on the note, and drops it back in the box as I finish the first set with 55 reps. She knocks again, and closes the bag. About a minute into my rest, there is another knock from the bag. Trina opens the bag and reads the note before closing the cloth box, securing it, and returning it to her duffle. She rummages in her bag before pulling another cloth out of her duffle about the time the bell rings, and I do my second set of air squats. Trina pulls a wooden box out of the cloth, and then secures the cloth and sets it back on top of her bag. I finish that set with 59 reps, and gasp in air for the break. Trina paces back and forth for most of my break, and then goes to the bathroom as the bell rings.
Burpees. Ugh! I hear a flush, and Trina reappears with her brush before the bell rings. I only get 23 in the first set. She pulls her hair out of her scrunchies, and works the brush in short strokes about six inches from the bottom of her tresses. Bing! Damn that break went fast. I push the burpees, trying to get to 30. I managed to get 28 before the bell rings again. I watch my beautiful pet brush her hair as I shake out my arms and legs. She is now stroking from near her ear all the way down without apparently hitting any tangles. She looks up at me, appraising my sweat-stained t-shirt. The bell rings and I start doing a torture of my own devising that I call ‘Monkey Inclines.’ At home I would be doing something with a slam ball or medicine ball. On the road, I’ve come up with this exercise where I stand about a foot away from the bed, squat down to palm the floor, pike up into a ‘high monkey’ - an almost handstand with bent knees, plant my feet on the bed, and do a pike pushup with my feet on the bed, ‘high monkey’ back down to a squat, stand, and that is one repetition. I love these and hate them at the same time. I manage to get 21 reps on the first set, which is an all-time best.
I shake out my limbs as Trina asks me, “Do those suck as bad as they look?”
I nod as I gulp in air. “Worse.”
She shakes her head slowly, “No wonder you’re in such good shape for an old man,” adding her patented shit-eating grin.
“You’ll pay for that, Pet.”
“Oh, Master! I certainly hope so!” She blows me a kiss as the bell goes off again. I s
tart my last set. I only get 18 before the bell goes off. ‘Shit!’ Okay that was suboptimal. I shake out my limbs again, and then stand at attention and kick knees up to my chest 10 reps each. Then I gently kick my straight legs to waist height five reps each, and then five more trying for solar-plexus height. I follow that with a short Sunrise Salute to get the stretch from the Mountain, folds, and Downward Dogs. As I head to the shower, Trina has brushed her hair into submission and is braided it. Now she is opening the box in front of her to show a mirror. I’m tempted to stay and watch, but she was right in saying I better hustle. Fortunately she showered last night. I hustle to the loo to drop my morning contribution. Not wanting to test Trina’s loyalty that severely, I leave on the fan. Then I grab my razor, shave gel and body wash as I head into the shower. I find a clean washrag, and a reasonably dry towel before getting under the water for a 15 minute shave, shampoo, and shower. I put my toiletries in my kit, quickly brush my teeth, and pack the kit up. I walk through Trina’s cone of silence to drop it into my duffle and pull on clean clothes. I hear a voice coming through the mirror.
“Y’ar in danger, lass. Myra’s mum has been talkin’ to her equal in summer...who was tha?”
Trina points in my direction, “That? That is Jack. He would probably tell you how grateful he is for clean clothes if I let him talk to you,” she smirks at Peg.
“I tho’ ya were about puttin’ up a shadow veil.”
“I did.”
“You said he was human. No human would do tha. Gimme a look at him.”
I finish buttoning my shirt and circle around behind Trina and look in the mirror. I wrap my arms around her and look in the mirror. I see a wizened face the color of an English Walnut husk, and as wrinkled as a Black Walnut husk. Her face is coated in peach fuzz. She has a small nose and black eyes with no discernable whites.