I would not be swayed so easily!
I began working on the opening chapter of Mutants in the Making 3.
It flowed relatively well from there; or at least, I thought it flowed that way.
It’s really hard to be objective with one’s own writing. But I kept skimming through it, trimming where I could and bettering the manuscript when I found an opening. Veronique shifted her head again, her face now dangerously close to the keyboard and my penis.
Focus, I reminded myself.
And I did; I focused for a good twenty minutes and pre-edited the entire first chapter. I was also able to get some ideas for how I wanted to reframe things later on in the book to keep it interesting and push the story along.
I’ve found that to be incredibly helpful, actually. If I’m ever stuck on a section, I just start rereading from the beginning until I get a new idea of where I should go with the text.
It worked with How Heavy This Axe? and it was working now.
But Veronique had other plans for me, and as I tried to edit and type over her, she reached her fingers up and unzipped my pants.
“What are you doing?”
In answer, she simply shut the laptop and pushed it down to the floor.
I felt my mushroom-tipped avatar level up, quickly doubling in size.
“Are you serious … right … now?” I asked, glancing left and right to see if anyone was coming. The windows were tinted, so I wasn’t as worried as I should have been about someone seeing us. There was a family not far off pushing a stroller toward a hybrid SUV, but they turned away before they got to the minivan.
“Why not?” she asked.
“Um …” I thought of all the losers and beta males in the anime I’d seen and the loser I myself had been a few weeks back.
The new Gideon wouldn’t blink twice about getting a little road head. Or, parking lot head? Whatever. I was down to get down.
Veronique pulled my penis out, and rather than do anything with it, she just stared at it.
“That’s what it looks like,” I said awkwardly.
“I remember what it looks like,” she said and placed her mouth around it. She didn’t do anything at that point, just kept it in her mouth for a good minute.
An excruciatingly long minute.
She has no idea how to give a blowjob, does she?
But shit, I didn’t know how to give one either! I’d never tried, and I mean, I figured it was just like sucking someone’s finger, but I didn’t know for sure.
How was I supposed to?
I didn’t want to start mansplaining this shit, especially not while my penis was in her mouth. So I just let her keep her mouth on it, my muscles spasming as she did so.
After a little more stationary blowjob action, Veronique started jerking it a little bit, her saliva lubricating it some.
This felt great; I kept finding my head falling back, my eyelids lowering, and my mouth opening as I sighed with pleasure, but I never let my eyes shut completely.
I had to stay vigilant!
And it was a good thing I did, too. About the time Veronique stopped jacking me off, and had placed her mouth on my penis again, just keeping it warm, I saw Stella and Ingrid coming toward the vehicle.
“Up, up, up!” I told her.
She sat up, and I stupidly tried to zip myself up without paying attention.
“Shit!” I yelled as the zipper struck my penis. I pulled it back out again to see if blood had been drawn – it hadn’t, thank all the gods – and this time, I carefully stuffed it back in my pants. “Okay, whew,” I said, clearing my throat.
“To be continued?” she asked.
“Please, yes, but not in public.”
Chapter Eighteen: A Mansion in the Rockies
Once my boner subsided, I awkwardly got out of the back and slipped into the front seat, my heart still thumping in my chest. It didn’t take long for everyone else to return to the minivan, each with at least a dozen bags. I was fine with the commotion they caused when they came; it gave me time to get my bearings, and try as I might, it was almost impossible to avoid making eye contact with Veronique, who still stared at me in her uniquely vampiric way.
I was just starting to relax when I saw the police officer.
He was driving one of those fiercely-painted police SUVs, dark lines accenting the white hood, lights on the top, and – since it was the wild wild west – a huge grill on the front for ramming things.
Dorian and Grace finished filling up the back when he first came by, and on the second run, he stopped briefly to look at the two women.
I watched all this through the rearview mirror, and I was surprised Grace didn’t catch him. Dorian did, however, and she offered him a nice little smile and a wave.
Dammit, Dorian, I thought as I started the vehicle.
I could tell he was following us the minute we pulled out of the parking lot. The theme music for Cops made its presence known; the chase was on.
Fiona was able to get some pretty good stuff, some wet-wicking clothes, Grace thought to me. But they’ll still fall off her body if she takes her water form. Still, she’ll have the membrane-based wetsuit she always wears, and besides, it’s nice to dress up and feel pretty. Wait, a cop is following us?
“Pretty sure,” I said aloud, my eyes still trained on the vehicle behind us.
“What’s going on?” Veronique asked from the back.
Wait, I thought to Grace, let’s not have everyone turn around and look at him as we get on the highway. He may have already called for backup. I don’t know. Tell the CBGs what’s going on and to keep a low profile.
Stella too?
Sure.
Everyone, Gideon and I think a police officer may be following us, Grace thought to all of us. I’ll try to see if I can catch his eyes in the rearview mirror, and once I do, I should be able to get him off our tail. We’d prefer not to let the teens know at this point, so please don’t turn and look all at the same time.
Rather than wait for Grace to try to use her telepathic abilities, Stella, who now sat behind me, looked over her shoulder and casually lifted a hand.
“No!” I yelled as the police officer’s SUV started moving backward at the same speed.
“Music,” Grace said, turning on the radio. “Let’s listen to music!”
The sound of pop radio – shudder – vomited from the minivan’s speakers as I watched the police vehicle crash into the car behind it.
It didn’t just slow; it was like the SUV had bounced off an invisible wall and went backward at the same velocity, causing a series of car wrecks.
The three Super Teens all turned at the same time.
“Whoa!” Michelle said, pulling a giant lollipop out of her mouth.
Apparently, she’d purchased a diabetes-inducing amount of candy, which all the teens had started in on as if it were Halloween.
My hands clenched tightly around the wheel, I slammed my foot on the gas pedal, giving that goddamn minivan all she had. With enough highway escapades under my belt to seriously want to avoid another, I kept my foot pressed down hard, expecting Angel to appear out of nowhere, or a helicopter, or something like that.
The farther away we got, the better.
It had happened so fast.
One second the cop was tailing us, then he was suddenly speeding backward, and the final second he was causing a pileup on the access ramp.
“You could jeopardize our mission doing things like that,” Veronique told Stella, once she’d put all the pieces together.
“I solved our problem, didn’t I?”
I glanced in the rearview mirror to see Veronique and Stella staring each other down. Up until twenty-four hours ago, Veronique had been our wild card, the one who acted rather than planned out what she was going to do next.
Talk about tasting one’s own medicine. Problem was, we all had to have a sip, a spoonful of sugar not helping that medicine go down, and moves like that were what led to calamity.
<
br /> “Cool it,” I said. “We’ll deal with this when we get to our new place, but seriously – we’re going to have to work together better; otherwise, mistakes are going to happen.”
Another glance in the rearview mirror and I saw Fiona and Michelle exchanging glances, both sucking on lollipops; Ingrid looked indifferent as she chewed on a long Tootsie Roll; Dorian, who sat between Veronique and Stella, looked like she was ready to teleport the hell out of there; and glancing to the right I saw my co-pilot with her eyes shining white, ready to take on anything that may come.
Talk about a much-welcomed letdown.
Nothing happened; no helicopters, no other police vehicles, no supers. And at the speed we were moving, eighty-five miles per hour, we were pretty far away from the incident within ten minutes.
Only problem was, we still had about half an hour before we reached Colorado Springs.
What can we do to lighten the mood? I thought to Grace.
I don’t know, sing a song?
Were you reading my mind or something? I thought I told you about that.
The song that you were thinking of, Ninety-Nine Bottles of Beer on the Wall – it’s very catchy. Maybe we could sing that?
We’re not singing Ninety-Nine Bottles of Beer on the Wall, only because I think it encourages alcoholism. I never really thought about that until just this moment, and really, singing this on the school bus when I was twelve years old probably had some type of psychological effect on at least a few of the kids. I’ll handle it.
“Michelle, how much candy do you have?” I asked in my nicest voice.
“Um, how many pounds do you think we bought, Dorian?” Michelle asked.
“A lot, like five pounds. It was expensive.”
“Five pounds? Damn! Okay, I want everyone to eat some candy,” I called over my shoulder. “We’re about to arrive at our new home for the time being, and everyone needs to be positive and hyped up on sugar. I swear I’ll turn this car around if you kids don’t start eating some candy!”
Stella was the first to laugh at the weird dad face I was making. Hearing Stella laugh brightened the mood of the Super Teens, and it also relaxed Dorian and Veronique a bit, at least enough for them to accept some candy from the back. Hell, even Veronique was sucking on a lollipop by the time the bag was passed up to me. I wanted to tell her, that’s how you do it!, but I suppressed the thought.
Be a good boy, Gideon, I told myself as I focused on the road.
“That’s good advice,” Grace commented. “Sorry, wasn’t reading your thoughts. Here, have some more candy.”
It took us a little navigating, but we finally found Gold Camp Road, which saddled up to Bear Creek. It was a secluded area, a luxury neighborhood, and I found the place that was for sale. I also saw the home next to it (the place I’d scoped out) and was glad to see that the owners were home.
I could tell by the size that there were at least five or six bedrooms, several acres of land, and I already knew there was a pool in the back, thanks to the pictures on GoogleFace.
It would do just fine. There wasn’t a fence in the front, and looking around the neighborhood, I saw that there weren’t any fences at all. As long as we kept our activities to the back, people wouldn’t see us. Especially with the tree coverage that surrounded the property.
“Okay,” I told everyone, “stay in the car until Grace and I deal with the owners. Are we clear?”
“You got it, Gideon!” Michelle shouted from the back.
As we stepped out of the minivan, Grace took the form of a thin redhead wearing aviators. We approached the front door, and Grace rang the bell.
A fit-looking woman with blond-dyed brown hair answered the door. She had wide shoulders and tan lines visible under her blouse.
Before she could ask, ‘Can I help you?’ Grace had her under control.
“Who’s in the house with you?” I asked her.
“My husband is just waking up from a nap. I think he’s going golfing later this afternoon. Our son is also here, playing video games in the theater upstairs.”
Video games in the theater upstairs? I wanted to pump my fist, but I kept the gesture to myself.
“Good,” I said with my most sincere shit-eating grin. “Gather everyone; the family is going on vacation.”
“Certainly.” The woman turned away, leaving the door wide open.
“What should I tell them?” I asked Grace. “I think we may be here for up to a week.”
“Your first idea is better than your last,” she said, twirling a finger in her long crimson hair. “That would be a nice vacation to take.”
I nodded. “I never pictured myself as a travel agent.”
The woman returned with her husband and their son, and before the husband or son could say anything, they too were under Grace’s spell. The husband had a beard to be proud of and the son wore a Colorado Avalanche beanie.
“Great, it’s a family of three, right? Are there any more?”
“Nope,” said the husband.
“Just us,” the wife added.
“Good, that makes it even easier. Your family wants to go on a vacation to Asia. Specifically, to Thailand, and from there maybe to Cambodia, and then to Bali. It’s a surprise vacation! You’ll tell your work that you need to take a week off to visit Asia. You know what, make it two weeks. What’s your job again?”
“I’m the CEO of a biomedical company,” said the wife.
“I’m a writer,” said the husband.
“Now there’s a career I can get behind, and regardless, you’ve both been doing great work, which is why you need to go to Asia for two weeks. Hell, since you’re the CEO, who’s going to say anything about it?”
The woman considered that for a moment.
“And from one writer to another,” I told the husband, “I know Asia will fire up the muse. I’d love to go there, but I’m sort of stuck in America while I take care of some things. Besides all that, it’s not like you have to ask anyone’s permission to travel. A win-win, if you ask me.”
“I agree,” he said. “It’ll be inspirational.”
“So, I want one of you to buy the tickets. You’re leaving today, as in now. Even if you have to fly to another city and stay overnight. Today is the start of the trip. Got it? Pack all the things you need for three weeks, even though you’re only going for two. And don’t forget your passports!”
Chapter Nineteen: Running through Walls
The Super Teens brought all their packages into the expensive living room, and I swear it was like something out of a magical Christmas you always wished would happen when you were a kid. Packages upon packages, stuff for the CBGs and for the Super Teens.
The Colorado place made the Austin lake house look small in comparison, the ceilings as high as my apartment building back in New Haven, fancy art, tons of places to stretch out, an expansive kitchen – what a place to call mi casa!
While they distracted me – or maybe, while I let them distract me – Dorian unpacked our IEDs in the garage, discreetly finding a place for Angel’s head as well. That was still our leverage, but I hadn’t quite figured out how it was going to play into the equation.
No matter. The important thing now was feigning interest in their successful shopping spree.
“The problem is, I move really fast,” Michelle explained. “And because I move really fast – really, really fast – most clothing doesn’t work well on me because of friction. That’s why I wear special fabrics that were created for me.”
I nodded at the chatty, youngest Super.
“So I decided to stick to things that wouldn’t have a friction issue, like scarves and makeup. No friction there! Plus I got ten pairs of DisNike Princess Run shoes. I can wear out a pair of shoes in a day or less, so it’s good to have extra. They are very cool shoes too, pink. One has glitter. My size is too small for the cooler ones, though.”
“That’s great,” I said once she finished showing me every single pair she’d purc
hased.
Ingrid had gone for oversized clothing, hopefully to combat the fact that her clothes always ripped when she took her beast form. Her shirt was something a linebacker would wear, her pants big enough for a grizzly, but for some reason, it didn’t look too bad on her. It reminded me a bit of flashy Korean fashion during the Gangnam Style years, like she was wearing her older brother’s clothes or something.
As Grace had told me in the minivan, Fiona had issues with clothing due to her water abilities. To counteract this, she’d bought attire to go over her custom bathing suit, and as long as she didn’t partially – or completely – turn into water, she’d be fine. Ironically, most of Fiona’s clothing involved island or beach-themed pictures. I don’t know if she was trying to be tongue-in-cheek, or if she genuinely liked Abercrombie and Eagle Outfitters Americana clothing, but I didn’t say anything about it.
“And what did you two buy?” I asked when Dorian entered the living room, done with hiding the IEDs and other assorted goodies.
“Just some clothes,” Dorian said in a way that indicated she would rather not talk about it in front of the Super Teens. I picked up on the innuendo and moved on.
“All right then – Michelle, as I promised, I want to check your settings. After that, I’m going to use their PC to make some printouts for each of you. I want everyone here to know more about their power and how they can be used together. This is me trying to get my shit together.”
Stella, who hadn’t shown me what she’d bought, shot me a crooked smile. “You’re just now trying to get it together?” She was still in her black mil-spec suit, but she did have a few bags from WalMacy’s and Victor and Victoria’s Secret, which meant she’d at least upped her underwear game.
“I’m in a constant state of improvement, kind of like democracy.”
I surveyed the room to see if anyone got my joke. They didn’t, so I motioned Michelle over.
“I can’t wait,” Michelle said as she appeared in front of me and lay down on the floor.
Stella laughed. “Michelle, you can use the couch.”
“Really?”
Cherry Blossom Girls Box Set Page 56
