Page 19 of Dagger in the Sea

James shined on my mother’s arm at the restaurant openings, the dinner parties, the foundation fundraisers. An excellent conversationalist, an avid theater-goer, book reader, and symphony subscriber, he was top notch on Chicago’s socialite list of invitees. He was handsome and that handsome had aged extremely well. He and my mother made a very attractive couple and they were popular. They’d always been affectionate with each other, but now, knowing what kind of man he really was, it only made me sneer when I thought of him holding her hand, kissing her on the cheek, helping her with her coat.

I’d wanted her to sting, but now I wanted to punish the idiot who paraded at her side and slept in her bed at night.

He’d been a kind stepfather to me over the years, but a disinterested sort. They’d been married since I was fifteen, yet his presence still felt like nothing more than a temporary guest’s whenever I’d been home. Frankly, I’d been the guest. Boarding schools from the time I was in first grade then onto college. Then my own place. Home for holidays, the meal mostly, and joining them for the grand vacations once a year. But not really home ever.

James was nothing better than a paid consort, wasn’t he? But maybe that’s the way Erin wanted it. A partner who didn’t bother her, didn’t demand. Did my mother know about his extracurricular activities? I doubted it, why would she stand for it? Erin didn’t suffer fools.

Me being a prime example.

So I fucked with him because I could. I did this because I couldn’tnotdo it. I tested him, and he scored brilliantly. I’d wanted to know if James Bradley would bend and dip. And he certainly did. One day soon I’d share the information with her, the proof. One day.

Years ago when my mother got tangled with my father, she had bent, been bitten, and gotten stung. And it had shocked her into a rigid autonomous independence. After I’d misbehaved, she’d drawn her battle lines with me. Now, I could show her where her squeaky clean intentions had gotten her.

I would bring a new art project home from school.

Look, Mommy. Look!

* * *

Within the timeit took me to clean up the mess Ciara had left behind, a short, blue-eyed girl with long black hair entered my apartment. The hair was not what I’d hoped for, but otherwise, she was perfect. I sat back on my leather sofa and motioned for her to approach.

“Strip to your panties and let me see your body.”

She followed instructions, turning around. A long tattoo of musical notes twisted over her round ass and up her back. Cliché, unfortunately.

“Face me and come closer.” She did as I said, and I kneaded her full, stiff plastic tits. Her face reddened, and she let out a gasp, glancing up at me. “Don’t move and don’t look at me,” my voice commanded. “But lick your lips. You want whatever I’m giving.”

She averted her gaze downward, her tongue wetting her bottom lip, and my cock got impatient at the sight.

“Good girl. Get on the floor on your knees and lean your head back against the sofa.” It had been a long, long day, and I needed immediate attention where it mattered the most.

She got on the floor, and I slid off my shirt, belt, trousers, boxer briefs. Her eyes widened at the sight of my demanding erection as I angled her head back onto the edge of the sofa, cuffing her neck with my hand.

“Show me you want this cock.”

Her tongue darted out and her lips glistened, a moan escaping her throat. Taking my cock in hand, I slid it past her wet lips and thrust in deep. She let out a cry, but she didn’t gag.

“Good,” I said, my voice low. “Work my balls, and show me you love this, you want more.”

She moaned, her body bouncing back against the sofa with my every sharp thrust, saliva dripping down her chin. Her one hand rubbed my balls and the base of my cock perfectly, the suction of her lips just right. I fucked her mouth and pulled out of her. She blinked as I sprayed her face and chest with my cum. She opened her mouth, her tongue curling, lapping.

“Ahh. A plus plus for you, honey.”

She rubbed my cum all over her tits, a hand sliding down to her pussy where she stroked herself, her legs spreading wider for my perusal.

“That’s it.” I got down on the floor and slid two fingers up inside her slick pussy, her hips jerking to my fast pace. “Always consider how the customer can get the best view,” I said.

Her chest arched back, tits bouncing. She came, her head lolling back on the sofa cushion. I dug my fingertips roughly into a breast. “Now get on your hands and knees. I want that ass in the air.” I twisted a nipple and she shrieked.

I fisted her hair and pulled. “No, no, no. You don’t have to like it, but I do. You moan when I do that. Again.” I twisted her nipple harder, pinching it, and this time she moaned loudly.

“Better.”

“Sorry, I’m just real sensitive there.”

I twisted her other nipple and she pressed her lips shut against another gasp. “You say, ‘Oh yeah.’”

She smiled softly. “Oh yeah.”

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