The Bastard Preacher

Home > Other > The Bastard Preacher > Page 5
The Bastard Preacher Page 5

by Dee Dawning


  He nodded. "Very much. Yes."

  "Good." She poured his glass full, but left it sitting next to hers. Slowly, her gaze rose, locking with his. She smiled and patted the sofa next to her. "Would you like to sit next to me?"

  He took a second to scrutinize her once more. With her long black hair and obsidian eyes, she was beautiful, and young looking for having a twenty-three year old son. She must have been a teen when Jamie Lee was born. He wasn't sure why she asked him to sit next to her, but he aimed to find out.

  When he moved next to her, she laid her hand on his thigh. "I meant to ask, are you married?"

  He wrapped an arm around her and rotated to a favorable position for a kiss. "Does it matter?"

  She ran sexy, long nailed fingers down his cheek. "Not really."

  Rising she held out her hand. "Since you like antiques, you really should see the ones I have in my bedroom."

  "Walt?"

  "Yes, Reverend Riverton."

  "This is taking longer than I thought. Why don't you get a motel room and I'll call you at eight in the morning."

  "Whatever you say, Reverend Riverton."

  Chapter Six – Makeover

  We need a translation that understands the needs of America. A Biblical work that gets down and holy about what to do about terrorism. Rev. Pat Robertson

  A tall dark haired middle-aged man walked past Gwen and into the Reverend's opulent, if ostentatious, twenty-seventh floor corner office. "You wanna see me boss?"

  Sonny looked up. "Yes, hi Mike. I have a job for you. Have a seat."

  As Gwen brought his cup of black coffee, he edged the chair closer to the bosses desk and propped his feet up on the corner of the desk. Sonny's jaw tensed like it always did when he did that. Mike Hennings, his million-dollar-a-year security director was the one person who could get away with it, and he knew it.

  "What you got boss?"

  "Missy is engaged to a person of dubious character with a Dalmatian background so spotty it's almost solid black."

  "Sounds surprisingly like Missy's father, before I cleaned him up."

  Sonny frowned. "Mike, you know I cleaned myself up. You just tidied up some toxic problems in my past."

  Mike raised an eyebrow. "And you need me to disinfect his toxic background."

  "Humph, more like radioactive. You'll earn your money on this one and it has to be quick. The engagement will be announced in October."

  Sonny picked up a manila folder.

  "What do you have there?"

  "This is the only copy of my private file on young Jamie Lee Vincent." He passed the file to Mike, who lowered his topsiders to the floor and leaned forward, to receive it, then promptly leaned back in the chair and propped them up again as he perused the file. When he got to the photo, he quipped, "Handsome devil."

  "Yes, smooth and personable, too. Mike, he has everything needed to be a big TV personality."

  "Is that what you're doing, grooming him to take over for you?"

  "Heaven's no, I'm not even sixty. I would like to turn the revival over to someone, though. That's a grind."

  "Michael?"

  Sonny shook his head. "He doesn't have the stamina. He couldn't finish the last tour."

  "Too bad."

  "I know. I actually need another minister to back-up Michael and me and I'm counting on Jamie Lee. You never know when the Lord will come for either one of us."

  Mike continued to leaf through the file. "Sonny, save that crap for your flock."

  Sonny sniggered. "Just practicing."

  He shook his head. "Looks like your boy's a pussy hound, like somebody I know."

  "Yeah, well—"

  Mike's shook his head slowly as he read. "Contributing to the delinquency of a minor, three times; drunk and disorderly; malicious mischief; a bench warrant for ignoring two speeding tickets; assault. Your boy has a lot of problems and that doesn't even cover his juvenile record which is sealed."

  Sonny gritted his teeth. "I know."

  Mike's mouth dropped open and his eyes rounded in surprise. "Two rape complaints?"

  Sonny leaned forward. "Date rape. I checked them out. The city prosecutor declined filing charges."

  Mike sighed and shook his head. "Oh, oh! This is bad. Father unknown? How the hell—"

  "I know. It wasn't easy, but I dragged the story out of the mother."

  "Knowing you, the lady is good looking and the story came out over pillow talk."

  "She is good looking. I won't comment on the rest."

  Mike chuckled. "You don't have to. So tell me the story."

  "The mother, whom I like, by the way—"

  "I'll bet." Mike winked.

  Sonny cast an intense stare. "You want hear this or not?"

  He cast a playful grin. "I'm listening."

  "Her name is Consuela. She and a boy named William Stewart ran away to San Francisco to join the hippies when he was eighteen and she was sixteen. From what she tells me Jamie Lee was conceived at the Monterey Pop Festival."

  "Really, from Stewart?"

  "No, he'd passed out from an exceptionally strong strain of hash." Sonny lifted a finger. "What I tell you can never be repeated. Understood?"

  Mike frowned as if he'd been insulted. "Of course."

  Sonny rolled his eyes and shook his head before he explained, "Our naive teen wouldn't take any drugs, so one of the nearby concert goers slipped LSD into her coke. Then as she started to get high and was grooving to the music, he told her the combination of sex and music would blow her mind. In what has to go down in the annals of teen-age stupidity, she laid him. In no time she was a beautiful naked sperm reservoir for any nearby stud that wasn't too high to get it up and they waited in line to fuck her."

  Mike lowered his feet off the desk and leaned forward, apparently intrigued by his account of Consuela's ordeal. "How many?"

  He shook his head again. "She can't be sure, but thinks maybe six. The girls that rescued her told her it was more like eight."

  Mike's eyebrows rose. "Some girls rescued her?"

  "Yes, three of them they'd been mesmerized by the incident, but didn't try to interfere until Consuela began to scream. They and their dates or boyfriends, she wasn't sure, intervened, wrapped her in a blanket, and hustled her into a van. The boys went back to see if they could find anything—clothes, purse, shoes, anything—but they couldn't."

  "What then?"

  "She said they drove her to a commune. She started crying immediately wanting to go home, so the leader hit the men up for money and the girls for clothes. With seventeen dollars and sixty cents she boarded a bus in Fresno for Dallas."

  Mike rubbed his hands together then clapped. "And nine months later Jamie Lee pops out." He laughed.

  Sonny pointed at Mike and laughed too. "Bingo. Except it was eight months. Jamie Lee was a preemie."

  "These people in the commune didn't stay in contact with her, did they?"

  He shook his head, ardently. "Nope. She was a scared teenager they rescued and sent home."

  "What happened to Stewart?"

  "Consuela never saw him again. She blames him for what happened to her. Unbeknownst to her, he'd been drafted and missed his report date. He was caught shortly after that and turned over to the Army. He didn't come back from Viet Nam."

  "Perfect. There's our father."

  * * * *

  As bad as his friend Jamie Lee had been, Tommy Parkson was the opposite. He was kind, generous, thoughtful and caring. Cheryl and Tommy had been going steady from the day of the revival some three weeks previous. She'd become convinced he loved her and she knew she loved him. That night he picked her up for their eighth date. He'd planned to take her to see a movie, but she had other plans.

  Pulling the door of her parents' house closed and locking it, she dashed across the street and hopped into Tommy's older Camaro. "Guess what?"

  Tommy gazed at Cheryl with his usual adoration. Then he chuckled. "No, telling wit you, girl. You're just full of surpris
es."

  She leaned over the console, wrapped an arm around him and spoke under her breath, "My sister and her family went up to Oklahoma to visit her husband's parents."

  "That's nice."

  She kissed his cheek. "It is, and I'll tell you why."

  When he didn't respond, she pursed her lips and continued. "I have to feed and take care of their dog while they're gone, so yours truly has the keys to their house."

  "Yeah."

  She pulled a package out of her purse and showed it to him. "You know what these are?"

  She giggled when his eyes grew rounder and lit up. "Lifestyles? These are condoms."

  She laughed. "Ah-huh, does that give you any ideas?"

  "All kinds of ideas, but are ya sure?"

  Nuzzling her lips into the crook of his neck, she kissed him and felt him shiver. "I've never been surer of anything in my life."

  Tommy started the car and shifted into drive. "Den let's go. Gimme directions."

  "Just head south, I'll guide you."

  * * * *

  Cheryl directed Tommy to the far south side of Tyler to a medium sized, ranch style home on an acre west of U. Texas at Tyler. He parked in the driveway and they both got out of the car. Cheryl rushed up to him excitedly, and grasped his hand. "C'mon, let's go." She dragged him into the house, and after locking the door, led him straight to the master bedroom.

  He was taken aback when she started to undress. As she unbuttoned and shrugged her blouse off, Tommy broke his silence. "What are ya doing?"

  She frowned. "What do you think? I'm getting undressed. I'm here to do one thing and by God I'm gonna do it. No teasing, no flirting." She continued undressing. Unfastening her bra, Tommy's heart jumped into his throat when she removed her bra and threw it atop of her blouse on a nearby chair. "Tomme-e-e. Get undressed. We're going to get naked, get in that bed and…make love."

  Gawking at his love, he unbuttoned his shirt. By then, she'd pushed her jeans to the floor and stepped out of them. She looked as good as any centerfold he ever saw in Playboy. "You're even more beautiful dan I imagined."

  She smiled affectionately, as she removed her panties—her last item of clothing. "And you are slower than a snail in a hail storm."

  His mouth dropped open as she strode toward him and placed her knuckles on her hips. "Don't you want to make love?"

  With his shirt unbuttoned, he pulled one arm out of the sleeve and she pulled the shirt off his other arm.

  "Uh-huh, but I'm nervous."

  She grasped his belt buckle. "I'm nervous too, but I want you more than anything. Don't you want me?"

  He brushed her hand away. "Oh, yes, I want ya, but…

  "What?"

  He unbuckled his belt and dragged the zipper down. "I don't know what to do. I nevah done this before."

  She looked up at him as she dragged his jeans down his legs. "Never?"

  He shook his head as he stepped out of them. "Nope. I love you and I don't want to disappoint ya."

  She rose and embraced him. "Don't worry, I love you, and this is my first time, too."

  This surprised and pleased him. "You do? It is?"

  She nodded. "Ah-huh."

  Abruptly, he had trouble catching his breath as he realized her beautiful naked breasts pushed into his uncovered chest. Despite the anxiety he felt, his libido started to assert itself. After all, the girl of his dreams, who wanted him to fuck her, stood naked with her arms around him.

  His half-hard manhood stirred when her long graceful fingers reached around his neck and pulled his mouth toward her upturned lips. As their lips touched, a charge of erotic voltage zipped to his stiffening penis. When he nibbled on her warm, pliant lips, she moaned. Then as her tongue parted his lips and brushed across his teeth and he bloomed into full erection, she pulled away and squeezed him. "See, there's nothing to worry about."

  His gaze devoured her. Focusing on her upturned medium sized breasts, his hands skimmed along her ribs, grabbed them and squeezed them. They were warm and soft, but springy and her pink nipples, though standing upright like soldiers were pliable yet firm. They felt wonderful.

  Gasping and sighing, she wrapped an arm around him as she stroked him with the other hand. "Come, let's learn about each other."

  He nodded and they reclined on the bed.

  * * * *

  For the first time in her life, Cheryl woke up with a man in her bed. She turned on her side and stared at him. His sandy brown hair was disheveled and his eyelids covered his beautiful Columbia blue eyes. His perennial smile was on his lips even as he slept. Maybe he's dreaming of last night. A smile crossed her lips as she recalled last night herself. This was the man who took her virginity—the man she loved.

  As she expected, it hurt initially, but once he breached her virginal membrane, if started to feel good—real good. She even had an orgasm. She couldn't wait for tonight and more orgasms.

  She leaned into him and tenderly kissed his lips, then slid out of bed. She smiled as she watched him twitch and rub his hand over the spot she'd kissed. God, I love him. She wondered as she went into the closet and borrowed a robe from her sister if they would marry. She hoped so. Slipping on a pair of her sister's slippers, she went into the kitchen to feed Carlos, the little Mexican Chihuahua. Afterwards, as her sister had instructed, she brought in the newspaper.

  She hadn't developed a taste for coffee, so she poured a glass of orange juice from the refrigerator and sat down to read the Tyler Morning Telegraph. The paper wasn't very thick so it only took a few minutes to get to the religion section, where the heading made her jaw drop.

  'Texas Cutie Breaks Engagement.'

  'The religious sector underwent a bit of a shock when their sweetheart, bubbly, vivacious Missy Riverton broke her engagement with Reverend Donald Robson, son of Pat Robson, reputed to be the most watched televangelist in the world. Although it was announced as a mutual decision, there have been rumblings of a new beau for the last couple of weeks (lucky guy). It looks like we'll have to wait and see what develops.'

  He pulled it off. The weasel weaseled his way into their family. Cheryl glanced at the accompanying photo. What a beauty! She read the caption.

  'Former Texas Junior Miss, Missy Riverton, once Texas's most eligible bachelorette, is eligible again. Or is she?'

  "What're ya doing beautiful?"

  A chill ran through her. She jumped and her heart palpitated. Placing her hands on her chest, she took deep breaths to alleviate the sudden fright.

  He wrapped an arm around her and kissed her cheek. "Sorry I didn't mean ta startle ya."

  "It wasn't your fault. It's just that I became so engrossed in an article, I didn't hear you coming."

  "What article's dat?"

  Her forefinger pointed it out.

  "Texas Cutie Breaks Engagement. Dat's Missy. You don't suppose…"

  "That's exactly what I suppose. Your buddy's the mysterious Mr. X. Have you heard from him lately?"

  His forehead wrinkled, his eyes looking upward. "Come to think of it, no. Not since he told me he was about to go into the Kilgore revival."

  "And that was two weeks ago. Call him."

  He frowned. "I thought ya didn't want me to associate with him?"

  "I don't. Just find out what he's doing."

  "All right, I'll be back in a minute."

  Cheryl decided to make breakfast while he talked with Jamie Lee. She looked through the unfamiliar refrigerator and found bacon and eggs.

  Pulling out a couple pans, she rustled breakfast up in no time. Tommy hadn't returned, so she turned the burners on simmer and went to see what kept him. Walking in she heard the end of Tommy's conversation with Jamie Lee.

  "Well, I'm really happy things are goin' so well for ya."

  "Thank you."

  "I'll try."

  "So long, Buddy."

  * * * *

  Jamie Lee terminated the call and threw the phone as hard as he could against the stone veneer fireplace in Missy's b
edroom. The phone shattered into a dozen pieces. "Fuck." Tommy fucked Cheryl. The son-of-a-bitch had his cock in my woman.

  Missy called from the master bath. "What's the matter, baby?"

  "Oh, nothing, sweetheart. My phone stopped working and it pissed me off, so I smashed it against the wall."

  She waltzed in dressed to the nines for a photo shoot. "Oh, poor baby. You might have to take an anger management class. I have to go now. How do I look?"

  What's the matter with me? Why can't I be happy with Missy? Cheryl is hot, but she's no Missy. Missy is stunning—a ten! "Like the face that launched a thousand ships. Helen of Troy was a dog next to you."

  She caressed his cheek. "You're sweet. Give me a kiss."

  He purposely ignored her request, instead contorting his face into a mass of fake emotions. "I don't suppose you have enough time to suck my cock."

  She looked at her watch and rolled her eyes. "I suppose. Just don't mess up my make-up or my hair."

  "I won't. If my cock doesn't behave himself, I'll whack him."

  She laughed as she knelt between his legs. "You better not whack him. That's my job."

  * * * *

  "Yeah, ever since the tent revival tour ended, he's been shacked up with her in her zillion dollar Dallas mansion while they decide what ta do with him. The engagement will be announced in two months en the wedding will be next March."

  She grabbed his hand. "Let's go in the kitchen. I made breakfast and it'll get cold."

  Seated at the table, Cheryl took a bite of bacon. "They'll announce the wedding will be in March. Go on."

  Tommy, who'd donned his underpants and jeans, swallowed the forkful of scrambled eggs he'd put in his mouth and laid a hand over hers. "There isn't much more to tell ya, but I have somethin' else I'd like to say. Yesterday was the best day of my life."

  She smiled. "Because we made love?"

  "That's part of it, but somethin' else."

  "That you lost your virginity?"

  He laughed. "I did, didn't I? So did you. I almost stopped when ya started bleeding."

  Cheryl snickered. "I would have brained you if you did. All right, tell me, why was yesterday the best day of your life?"

 

‹ Prev