by Teresa Wolf
DEEP IMMERSION
BOOK 1
TERESA WOLF
Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
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Author Note + Thank You
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, transmitted, or stored in an information retrieval system in any form or by any means, without prior written permission from the author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination.
Copyright © (2021) Teresa Wolf
Chapter One
Charles
They say climbing to the top is hard, but the real challenge is keeping your crown once you get there. They say true luxury only comes from a struggle, and that you only understand your highs after you’ve been through the deepest lows.
Jaws always flapping, trying to pep you up and get you going in the morning. However, what I’ve learned during my ascension to becoming the most powerful man in Fairhope, Alabama, is that those are just words, and words are meaningless. I’ve learned not to trust anyone. I learned that any time anyone opens their mouth, they are a snake oil salesman trying to sell you bottled piss, and wanting to make you believe it’s ten more years of life in a bottle.
“Look, Charlie, you know I’m good for the money, my man,” Douglas Stone says, lifting his arms into the air. He’s cowering from my boys, his eyes nervously scanning the room.
It’s not the first time I’ve sat in this rickety, wicker chair, with floral patterns dancing across the cushion-less covers, and it won’t be the last. I’m well acquainted with this shitty three-bedroom house, with its peeling-papered walls and the smell of cat piss that fills the air. Douglas Stone has become a bit of a regular on my to-do list. A man who is always in debt, and with no money to spare.
“Now, there aren’t that many people that get to call me Charlie. You should know that by now, Doug,” I say, crossing one leg over another. I make a single gesture with my head.
Bruce Whitfield tucks his arms around Doug’s chest while Percy Whitfield swings a single giant fist into Doug’s jaw. Doug goes limp in Bruce’s grip and takes a moment to stabilize before he can stand on his own two feet again.
Percy and Bruce, whom I more casually know as my lapdogs, have been around from the start. They’re twin brothers, standing six-foot-six apiece, with broad shoulders and mean looks in their eyes. If I was a careless man, I might’ve allowed them to do my debt collections alone, but I’m never reckless, and I’d hate to miss out on the thrill of watching my debtors squirm.
“Payday’s come and gone, Doug. Where’s my money?” The words leave my lips for a second time since I entered the shabby house.
“It’s the docks, man. You know that they’re not always good at on-time payments,” Doug’s clutching his jaw, and trying his best to slink away from the ever-watchful eye of my lapdogs.
“Is that right? You work for Tony Kasabayev, no?” My eyes trail Doug, but my head remains motionless. “I’ll have to give him a call and let him know that it’s time to pay up.”
I know he’s lying about the docks, just like he does every month on collection day. Poor fools like Douglas Stone are the reason I’m living the high life, after all. They come to my casino, and then take out loans they can’t afford, and then gamble it all away in a matter of hours. Men like Doug, poor fuckers who can’t hold their booze, their tongues, or their money, are the reason I flourish, and the reason I have Fairhope in the palm of my hand.
“No,” Doug shouts in alarm. “Don’t do that. You call him, and it’ll be risking my job. We can’t have that. Otherwise, I definitely won’t be able to pay you, you know?”
“That sounds like a ‘you’ problem, my man,” I pull myself out of the wicker chair. It squeaks and creaks with every ounce of force pressed against it.
At my approach, Bruce wraps his arms around Doug again, only this time, one’s around his neck. Doug’s face goes red with the extra pressure that’s cutting off the vital supply of oxygen to his brain.
“I’m only going to ask you this one more time, you son of a bitch. Where the hell’s my money?” my finger waggles in front of Doug’s face.
He’s choking now, gasping for air, and clawing at Bruce’s arm. I send a single fist into his midsection, with force. Bruce tosses him to his knees. Doug’s coughing on the floor, looking up at me with relief in his eyes that he’s not dead, but I also see dread, about what will come next. A boot to the face, maybe?
A sudden noise of keys jingling at the door breaks my attention away from Doug. I take a step back and eye the tattered wood as it swings open. I can see Percy reaching for the pistol in the back of his waistband. A shake of my head and he brings his hand back around to the front.
Then she enters.
“Is anyone home?” she calls, walking into the house.
The hop in her step makes her tits bounce, erect nipples poking through her tight shirt. Her blonde hair’s slightly matted from the light drizzle that is falling outside. Her tight, worn tube top leaves nothing to the imagination and she is wearing a black bra underneath. Her knock-off Daisy Dukes are taut around her curvy ass.
The second she steps through the door, my cock nearly tears through my bespoke pants. She turns toward me, toward us, and her face turns sour at the horrors of seeing her father on the floor, gasping for air. Her green eyes hold so much fear, behind the thin-rimmed dollar store sunglasses. I can tell she’s young just by her face.
Why can’t I stop looking at her? I shove a hand into my pocket and grab my rock-hard shaft to pull it aside; trying to hide from anyone seeing my erection. The sight of the blonde and the feeling of my satin boxers rubbing against my sensitive tip makes me shudder. Fuck, this is awkward. If I make one wrong move, I’m at risk of cumming my pants. And, just because some bitch walked through the door?
“Wh…what’s going on in here?” There’s hesitation in her question, fear even.
“Nothing, doll face,” Bruce speaks up, after an awkward pause while I stare at her dumbfounded. “We’re just having a little chat with your old man.”
“It’s okay, Lizzy,” Doug’s raspy voice comes next, accompanied by his hand shooing her away. “These gentlemen won’t be here long, and then you can tell me how your day went.”
Lizzy, I repeat her name in my head. She spins around at Doug’s waving hand, and I can’t take my eyes off her body as she walks off down the hallway. How dare he treat her like this? How dare Douglas Stone keep this princess in poverty?
“Who was that?” I ask, turning back to Doug.
“My daughter,” he replies.
How did this scrawny, wispy-haired, gaunt-faced piece of shit spawn a goddess-like Lizzy? What unnatural cruelty was it for her to be trapped here, stuck in this shithole house with a drunken addict as a father?
“I’ll get you your money,” Doug mutters from his position on the ground. Every time he speaks, I want to kick his head in and it drags me away from my thoughts of Lizzy.
“Yeah, right, the money,” I say, turning back to him.
Tension fills my body, and I feel as if I’m ready to explode. I want to scream to the heavens and sing hallelujah, but at the same time throw a fist into the wall to feel the sting. I feel lost, trapped, and scared, all because Lizzy entered the house, and I’m confused by the strang
e rush of emotion.
As I stand there, turning between the door and Doug, I know what I have to do.
No matter the costs or the risk, Lizzy Stone will be mine.
Chapter Two
Lizzy
I’ve always loved the sound of thunder. Something about the rumbling noise, especially out in the distance, always makes me happy. Today is no exception, and turn my attention to the heavens, where heavy clouds are gathering above my head.
It is only a matter of time before Mother Nature’s sweet music breaks.
“I can’t believe you let him… touch you like that,” I feel my cheeks flush red hot as the words leave my lips.
Mary and I live just up the road from one another, and we often walk to and from work together. I guess it is just a way of making sure nothing happens to us while we are en route. The world is a dangerous place for women, so we need to stick together.
“What’s a little ass grabbing between colleagues?” Mary replies. We work together at a clothing store that caters primarily to women. “And anyway, if I let him get a little handsy, I’ll probably be first in line for that big promotion.”
I found it funny that we work in a women’s clothing store, but we have a male supervisor. Sure, he’s good-looking enough to hold the post, but I always thought a spot like that would be better for someone who understood the equipment. From the day Alex Hall entered the store, he had a thing for Mary. She knew how to exploit that attraction.
“I could never,” I reply.
“You’re telling me you’ve never let someone grab your ass?” Mary’s eyes go wide. “You’ve never had sex?”
I shake my head.
“Oh my God, you’re such a little cutey,” Mary bursts out into a snicker.
“You think it’s going to rain today?” I change the subject, as my cheeks are starting to hurt from the blushing and smiling I can’t seem to stop.
Mary looks up at the sky, and as her attention fixes on the gloomy, grey clouds, a single drop lands directly between her eyes.
“Shit, I guess it is,” she says.
After the first drop, many more begin falling from the sky. We’re not far from our houses now, so we start running down the street, laughing and giggling as the rainfall begins to soak us through. Just as we reach the dilapidated picket fence that surrounds my house, the first crack of thunder sounds in the distance.
“I’m gonna dash home, but I’ll text you later, babe,” Mary says, wrapping her arms around me.
“Okay, stay safe,” I say, hugging Mary goodbye. She breaks away and continues in a light jog down the road. I watch her until she reaches her yard, sauntering towards my front door and then I go inside.
“Is anyone home?” I call through the house, kicking my wet shoes off against the wall. The lack of reply leads me to believe I’m alone. Good, I could use a bit of peace and quiet.
However, when I spin around and take my first step towards the living room, I see them standing there. The one standing off to the side catches my attention immediately. The light stubble growing on his razor-sharp jawline, his muscular frame, and the look in his eye all say that he’s up to no good.
Then I see my dad, on his hands and knees, with two men standing above him. My eyes dart between the three strangers and my father. What has he done? Another tremendous screw-up I’m sure, especially if these bad-looking men are in our house. The way he wheezes and gasps for air, I can’t imagine this anything good.
“Wh… what’s going on in here?” I ask, swallowing the lump in my throat. My head is spinning; I can feel my eyes are wide. To say I’m scared is an understatement. These three men look dangerous. What do they want with my dad?
“Nothing, doll face,” one of the two hovering over my dad replies. He’s got a wicked glint in his eye that makes me nervous. “We’re just having a little chat with your old man.”
“It’s okay, Lizzy. These gentlemen won’t be here long, and then you can tell me how your day went,” my dad says, a wave sending me off.
I don’t want any bigger part of this than I’ve already seen; so, I accept his invitation to leave and run to my room. I pull out my phone and send Mary a message about what had just happened. Then, I find myself up against the door, pressing my ear against it to try to hear whatever I can.
I can’t hear much, only the word money coming from both my dad and the stranger. The handsome stranger, with those steel-blue eyes that pierce my soul. The way he looked at me, never breaking his gaze. The way he carried himself, his attitude, and the strange glimmer of a smile that tugged at the corners of his lips as he saw me.
Why the hell am I even thinking about him? Why are there butterflies in my belly and a tickle between my legs? Even now, I struggle to force him out of my head. In that short stare, he managed to burn an image of himself into my mind. My heart flutters at the very thought of him, no matter the reason he is here.
“Damn it, what the hell is wrong with you?” I reprimand myself. Whatever he’s here for, it’s probably because my dad screwed up again. I step away from the door and drop onto my pink bed. I suck in a few long breaths, and then slowly breathe out.
Not even a few minutes later, a light rapping comes at my door. I open it up, and my dad’s standing there. His neck is red and already bruising, and there’s a look of absolute disappointment in his eyes.
“Lizzy,” his voice is raspy.
“What the hell was that, Dad?” I ask, not hiding my emotion.
“That? Nothing, they’re just a few of my friends from the dock. You actually caught us at a funny time. I’d just tripped over the rug as you came in.” My dad forced a chuckle.
“I…” I don’t believe you. Those words are lingering on the tip of my tongue, but I can’t manage to get them out. Not when that tall, handsome stranger had two goons at his side. Maybe they were from the dock – that wasn’t impossible – but they were definitely there to collect on a debt. Because that’s the only time we have visitors lately; debt collectors, and the landlord looking for their dues.
“Okay, it’s good to know it’s nothing serious,” I say instead. After all, my dad had endured whatever hardship those men had thrown at him, not me. The least I could do was give him a little hope that everything is okay.
“But, Lizzy, I don’t think you should tell your ma that these men came over today. You know how she gets when we have visitors.”
Those words were the reason I knew he was lying to me.
“I won’t tell her.” I force a smile to my face. “You don’t have to worry about that.”
He’s standing in the doorway, opening his mouth, ready to speak again, but then he just turns away without another word, he spins on his heels and starts walking off back down the hall.
“Just another day in the Stone household,” I think, shutting the door and then collapsing back on my bed. A ding from my phone lets me know Mary’s replied to my message.
At least talking to her is better than dealing with whatever new rubbish my dad is wrapped up in.
Chapter Three
Charles
I don’t know what caused my instant attraction to Lizzy.
She was just some poor girl that had had a bad hand dealt to her. It was nothing I hadn’t seen a thousand times before, and by the time I retire, I was sure I would have seen it thousand times more.
But, the second her wet, glistening body had stepped into the doorway, I couldn’t shake the thoughts of her. They impact my work, and my emotions. Fuck – I haven’t been able to get rid of the stiffy either. Sex is an easy thing to come by in Fairhope. With the money I have, and being something of a household name, I rarely get a no.
However, the lack of a chase makes sex boring after a while. Tending to my needs with a tight fist is easier than having to seduce some bitch. But, this time, not even that works. And, not getting the release I need makes my work harder. I can’t look a man dead in the eye and threaten him if I’ve got the eight inches of cock throbbing in my p
ants.
It’s just… embarrassing, and I’ve never been one to feel embarrassed.
I know it’s too late to make this work organically. Lizzy saw my face, and she knows what I look like. To her, I’m the handsome monster that was kicking the shit out of her old man. I can’t just walk up to her now, pretend I’m a stranger and try to arrange a night on the town.
But, I can follow her. Get into the cheap Honda Accord I bought. Watch as she leaves for work, trail her on the street and the bus, and finally into the women’s clothing store where she works. Dressed in those tight outfits, and showing off her ass, her tits, her smooth skin, and her belly.
So, I do just that. Every morning I’m out before the sun rises, waiting on that shitty street for her to step out and meet her friend from further down the street. I watch her walk, her long slender legs making her ass bounce. I can’t hear their conversations, and that kills me. I see her blush from time to time, and I just know that they’re talking about something naughty. I want to be the one to make her blush. I want to be the one to make her scream. I want to be the one buried between her thighs, eating her cunt for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.
But, today, once the bus drops Lizzy off at the mall, I have different plans for where I am going. I don’t don my tracksuit and cap to walk around the mall. Once I get that final glimpse of her, something inside me aches. While I plot and plan to get Lizzy into my arms, and into my bed, I want a little treasure.
After a short meeting in the city with a local politician looking for a handout, and not far from where she gets dropped off, I get back into my car and drive to Lizzy’s house. I’ve been watching them for a while now, and I know their routines. I know no one will be home.