Father & Son: Book two of the Jensen Family Series

by Michelle Day

  “Ok, no problem. Now, you were saying something about a yard and a secretary?”

  Chapter Eleven

  Buoyed up by the events of the weekend, Paul positively floated through his week. He spent a couple of hours each evening either at the gym, honing his physique, finalising the paperwork on the yard he had just purchased outright, no mortgage for this boy. With Jez going through the niggly little bits and pieces he would need to know not only for when he took over the club from the current shareholders but also for when Jez was no longer there. For the affable bar manager planned to eventually return to his girlfriend’s Swiss home and set up a nice little après ski lodge.

  Getting into his car late Wednesday evening, he was about to start it up when Betsy, his flirty co-worker tapped on the window and asked for a lift home, laughing at him when he asked boldly what was in it for him.

  “Let me just check that my flatmate is out.” She told him as she practically dragged him up the stairs and into the most untidy flat he had ever seen. He didn’t get the impression that it was unclean and it certainly smelt fresh but there were clothes everywhere along with large containers of diet supplements. “The guy I live with is a body builder.” Betsy explained. “Sorry about the mess, neither of us has managed to fold up our clean clothes yet.”

  Paul nodded but stoically declined to comment as she took his hand and led him to a very tidy, very girly bedroom. Betsy flicked on the radio and shed her clothes before easing him out of his and dropping to her knees in front of him.

  Being no slouch himself in the bedroom department, Paul was a little stunned with the speed she’d moved and also a little embarrassed that he hadn’t had an erection when she took him into her mouth, a situation that was soon remedied as she set her soft lips around him and set her tongue swirling. Looking down at the young woman before him, he allowed himself an indulgent smile as he felt things stirring and knew this was one sight he would never tire of regardless of who the woman happened to be.

  Betsy was used to being in charge, used to disarming a man with her mouth to make him pliable enough to do as he was told. When she tried this with Paul however, she found he wasn’t the over eager, willing boy she had taken him to be at the club, he was a complete Alpha male and she unwillingly found herself submitting to him. He snarled at her when she dug her nails into his flesh as his large cock quite literally threatened to tear her apart. He positioned her how he wanted her, leaving her no choice but to do as she was told.

  Dragging her by the waist to the edge of the dressing table he had her perched on, Paul noted her surly expression and regaled her with his best cat that got the cream grin. From her actions he had quickly cottoned on that she was Alpha bitch and used to getting her own way and while he was willing to play the part at the club, behind closed doors was his domain and for all her whining, her drenched pussy told him that she was secretly enjoying herself.

  “Just go with it Betsy, let me make you feel good.” He crooned as he made his way south, “Don’t look down, watch in the mirror.” He ordered.

  “Can’t you just fuck me again? She snapped.

  “Why? Do you have somewhere to be?” He asked but he felt the tremor in her thighs as his fingers continued to work her. She shook her head. “Didn’t think so.” He smirked “ Good things come to those who wait. I promise I’ll get around to it but this is for my enjoyment first.”

  She nearly flew off the dressing table when he set his mouth on her pussy. She knew from kissing him that he had a talented tongue but as she hadn’t looked past doing anything other than sucking and riding his cock, she had neglected the possibility that his tongue would be put to equally good use elsewhere.

  By the time he left, Betsy was a dishevelled, sore but happy mess sprawled across her bed, she waved him goodbye as he called out that he’d see her Friday night.

  Prior to Jokers opening on Friday, there was usually a staff meeting, Paul made it to the club shortly after it started, coming into Jez’s frown and grins from the rest of the staff.

  “Sorry, brother trouble.” He murmured.

  “That’s an odd name for your car.” One of the other bar staff chirped.

  “It’s not what I call my car. My brother wanted to borrow it but took forever to get ready so I’m late because he was giving me a lift here.” Paul explained.

  Jez cleared his throat and looked expectantly at his staff until they all quietened down, ready to listen.

  With the meeting over, Paul made his way to the bar only to be stopped by one of the doormen. A large, scary looking man, Paul hadn’t heard him speak before but as the man’s name suggested, he wasn’t entirely surprised by his Russian accent.

  “Bar boy,” Serge began, “You fuck my woman?”

  Backing away slightly, somewhat intimidated by the other man’s size, Paul found himself stammering, “Er, I don’t think so.”

  “She say yes, was you.” Serge stepped forward.

  “Honestly Serge, if I did, I didn’t mean too.” He answered, still backing away all the while thinking, I’m gonna die here.

  “She say was new bar boy.” The big Russian insisted.

  “Well, I am the new bar boy but I don’t remember doing anything with anyone.” He was blabbering now, panic firmly setting in.

  “Betsy, come here.”

  “Betsy? Oh shit. I swear I didn’t know.” Paul took another step back as Betsy slipped an arm around the large door man. Thinking about it though, the bodybuilding supplements should have given him a clue. “She said she had a roommate not a boyfriend.” He shot a baleful glance at the bar maid. She grinned back and it was then that he heard the other staff laughing. “What’s going on? He asked.

  “Oh man, you’re such a sucker, everyone has a go a Betsy, it’s sort of a rite of passage.” Lucy, one of the other bar maids patted his arm. “Isn’t that right Serge?

  Nodding in agreement, Serge caught Paul’s arm, “Is one time only yes? You fuck my woman again, I crush your skull.”

  “Sure, yeah, whatever you say Serge.” Paul turned away quickly and headed to the back of the club.

  “Where are you going?” Jez called.

  “To make sure I didn’t actually shit my pants.” Paul answered.

  Betsy waited until Paul was on his break before approaching him in the staff room. Slouched comfortably on one of the sofas, head resting back and eyes closed, he was aware someone had entered the room as the noise from the club briefly increased as the door opened. Feeling fingers in his hair however, had him sitting up and turning in his seat.

  “We’ve got half an hour.” She smiled suggestively and trailed her fingers across his shoulders as she skirted the sofa to join him.

  “I know I’m a bit of a whore when it comes to women.” He told her, firmly removing her hands from his thighs. “But I’m not a whore with a death wish Betsy and I believed Serge, you know him? Your boyfriend? When he said he’d” Paul put on his best Russian accent, “crush my skull.” He slid from the sofa and gained his feet. “This face is too pretty to be smooshed so forget it.”

  “Serge is fine if it happens within the walls of the club.”

  “I’m not prepared to take that chance. Why’d you want to cheat on him anyway, he seems like a nice guy.”

  “He is and he treats me like a princess but years of body building and steroid abuse have left him with massive muscles and a tiny dick.” She held up her hand and wiggled her little finger to emphasise her point. “We have an agreement. I get to play with the staff; he gets his dick sucked after I’ve told him about it.” She shrugged.

  Paul took on board what she had said and seemed to be giving it some thought but he finally shook his head. “I can’t Betsy, it’s not that I don’t want to because we had a good time and all that but Serge honestly scares me shitless and I’m just not willing to risk it.”

  “I didn’t take you for a coward.”

  “Usually I’m not but in this case I’m prepared to be a massive coward.�
�� He shouldered the blow to his ego.

  As he stepped back behind the bar, he took a moment to survey the dance floor, tables, booths and the five deep crush of people at the bar and felt an immense sense of satisfaction. He loved this, from the throbbing music and gyrating sweating bodies to rushing around behind the bar without a moment to think clearly along with the occasional grope from and with other members of staff. He was home, this place was in his blood but even as he worked, he was making plans in his head of how he would change things when the place was finally his.

  Jokers was currently owned by five separate shareholders, Jez amongst them, the other four were largely silent partners and old school friends of the current manager. Jez was slowly putting into place the idea to his friends that it was time to start bowing out. They each had their own lives now, some were married, others lived abroad and they were no longer the party animals they had been when they had each purchased shares in the club. He put forward a three year plan which would allow Paul to buy their shares in increments resulting in him being the outright owner by the time he was twenty one and legally allowed to hold the license.

  His current schedule seemed to be working out quite well, Paul mused as he took a break from his routine paperwork the following Wednesday. He couldn’t wait for Friday’s now, just to get back to the club but he wasn’t relishing what had become a regular Friday night argument with his brother over who got to use the car.

  Apart from the time they spent together at Jensen Incorporated, they now led largely separate lives and trying to get the car for the journey to and from the club was proving a flash point between the brothers. On top of this, Matt was constantly moaning about the vehicles niggling little problems and nagging Paul to get the issues fixed as he was the more competent one when it came to being practical.

  “The heaters packed up again.” Matt said later that afternoon as he dropped his keys and briefcase onto the table and flopped into the chair next to Paul’s.

  “It’s summer, you don’t need the heater.” Paul answered as he pulled his papers out from under the items carelessly dropped on them.

  “It won’t be summer forever; can’t you have a look at it?”

  “When do you suggest I do that Matt? It’s not like I have time to play with.”

  “You were home today.” Matt stated.

  “And where was the car?” Paul asked.

  “At work.”

  Paul sat back and looked at his brother. “Did you expect me to fix it there?” He asked.

  “I suppose you could.” Matt replied.

  “Or, and this is just me thinking out loud, you could have told me about the problems its having last night and got the train in this morning so that I could take a look at it today.”

  “There’s no need to be sarcastic.” Matt stood.

  “There’s no need to be so far up your own arse either but you seem to manage it just fine.” Paul also came to his feet.

  Matt chose to ignore that last comment, his brother was clearly spoiling for a fight and while he’d quite like to get into it with Paul, he had to bite his tongue in this instance as he needed the car fixed and lacked the knowledge to do it himself. “Look, I should have given it a little more thought ok? I’m sorry. Will you please fix the car?”

  “You could take it to a garage?” Paul suggested.

  “We aren’t all loaded like you.” Matt shot back. “Dad doesn’t pay me much and what I do get I try and save for the weekend. Please Paul, at least take a look at it.”

  “You know I work three jobs right?” Paul asked. “I’d be in the same position as you if I had to rely on Dad.

  “Yeah I know, I don’t know how you do it and maybe I should just spend some cash on the car.” Feeling guilty now, Matt backed down.

  Paul grinned and playfully shoved his brother, “I’m only mucking around Matt, go and get changed, we’ll have a look at it together.”

  He went outside and popped the bonnet while waiting for his brother. Hauling it upwards he couldn’t avoid the unearthly squeal the hinges made and noticed that the bonnet wasn’t sitting right and the outer lip on the right hand side was bent outwards slightly which had in turn, probably caused the hinges to twist slightly.

  Deciding to make that his first job, he retrieved his tool box from the garage and then set Matt to work on the menial tasks of checking the water and oil before he tackled the obtuse lip on the bonnet.

  Distracted by something Matt said and a group of pretty girls walking by, Paul hit the offending lip too hard and cursed when he saw that it was now concave. Although that wouldn’t impede on anything, being the perfectionist that he was, he knew he’d see the defect in his mind’s eye each time he drove the car and decided that it would have to be straightened out.

  “The car’s alright apart from the bits you mentioned?” Paul asked as Matt approached him.

  “Yeah, I’ve had trouble starting it a few times but the new engine you had put in is sweet as a nut, once you get it started.”

  “I had the same trouble the other night; I’ll look into getting a new battery.” Paul answered but his brother had wondered away to talk to the group of girls now making their way back towards them. With his hip against the wing and his right hand resting in the sill of the bonnet, fingers dangling into the engine compartment, Paul watched his brother turn up the charm, choosing not to get involved as girls would often overlook Matt in his presence.

  Taking the number one of the girls handed him, Matt was promising to call as he turned away from the departing females. He held up the piece of paper, grinning at his brother.

  “Nicely done!” Paul retuned the smile. “You should bring them to the club.”

  “Yeah, I was going to ask you about the benefits I should get with you working at the club.” He quipped.

  “I think I can get you and three other people in.” Paul told him. “I’ll ask Jez on Friday.”

  “If you can get me in free, I’ll be able to contribute a bit more towards the car…..” Matt paused when Michael appeared, not sure what to make of his father’s intentions when he unclipped the bonnet stay. He realised too late that Michael was preparing to take the opportunity presented to him and shouted “No.” As he tried in vain to reach him before he could carry out his actions.

  Paul had begun to turn in Matt’s direction when he heard the bonnet slam shut. A moment of stunned silence followed before the pain hit as he tried to remove his hand from the engine compartment. His brain’s pain receptors finally caught on and Paul dropped to his knees, screaming in agony, his hand still trapped from the knuckles between the wing and the bonnet, “Get it off, get it off.” He shouted at his brother.

  The commotion had bought Monica out of the house as Matt fervently groped for the bonnet clip and finally located it. Snatching up the bonnet and securing it, he then made his way to Paul’s side and hauled him to his feet.

  With his hand now free, Paul chanced a look at it, sure that his fingers must be broken. Blood was pouring from all four fingers, his thumb having escaped any damage, the skin was peeled back and he wasn’t sure if that was bone or ligament he could see glaring through the blood.

  “What happened?” Monica asked, stepping around her husband to get to her son.

  “Just teaching the boy a lesson.” Michael answered.

  Not quite believing what she was hearing, Monica swung around to confront Michael, “What?” She shrieked.

  Both of them jumped as a feral roar sounded behind them and Monica stepped back as Paul, quite literally dragging Matt, surged past her towards Michael. “Paul don’t!” She shouted but he didn’t hear her.

  As the initial shock dissipated and the overwhelming pain subsiding to sharp throb, Paul, quite frankly, lost it. He rarely allowed his temper full reign but he had now reached the limit of his restraint and for the first time in his life he retaliated.

  He felt immense pleasure at Michael’s stunned face as he approached but the feeling of his elbow
connecting with his fathers’ face and the crunch of bone beneath it was almost orgasmic. His adrenalin rush faded quickly as his fathers’ hands covered his face, his own screams of pain muffled by them and the blood springing forth.

  “Mum, we need to call an ambulance.” Matt’s voice shook her out of her trace and she took stock of the situation, her son and her husband were bleeding, in pain and in need of help. Reason took over and she sprang into action.

  Chapter Twelve

  After steadfastly refusing to get into the same ambulance as his father, Paul arrived at the hospital with his Mother, his hand wrapped in a towel as it continued to drip.

  Monica had tried to get him to talk on the way but Paul remained silent, brooding and clearly still angry. They were ushered through to see the triage nurse where Paul gave the basic details of the accident, was given a painkiller and sent for an x-ray.

  When she rose from her seat to accompany him to the x-ray department, he told her to go and check on Michael and asked Matt to come with him.

  “Paul? You ok?” Matt tentatively broached the question.

  “I’ll be fine.”

  “I can’t believe you went for Dad like that.”

  “Me either. God it felt good.” Paul admitted.

  By the time he’d had his bones photographed, Monica was waiting for him. Michael had been taken to surgery to have his nose re-set and to see if the teeth that had been dislodged by Paul’s elbow could be re-seated. She stayed by his side while the doctors examined both his x-rays and his fingers and she heaved a sigh of relief when they were told that the fingers were not broken but that he would need surgery to properly allow the skin to be cleaned and re-attached.

  “There’s a slight chip to the bone of your index finger but it’s miniscule and will heal on its own. The skin is a bit of a worry, it’s quite literally peeled back and I’m not sure we will be able to save it all, you may require a skin graft.

  “Ok.” Paul answered, his pain levels were beginning to ratchet up again and he really didn’t want to talk anymore.