His Father

by A. E. Murphy

  “And what about the no-kids thing? Doesn’t that bother you?”

  “No, I’m not sure I want kids anyway and if I ever do I’ll cross that bridge when it comes to it. Can’t I just enjoy the amazing sex and fun we have without all of this?”

  He makes a dramatic puking sound when I say the word sex.

  “You brought it up. Which I don’t appreciate,” I grumble, grabbing the box from him and marching it to the checkout where a woman takes his money and puts the incense sticks into a paper bag.

  His phone starts to ring so he steps to the side and I notice a sign on the counter for an herbal, liquid penis enhancer. Like Viagra but you rub it onto the dick, or so it says.

  I press my lips together to stop myself from laughing and say to the woman, “Can I get some of that, please?”

  She raises a brow at Maddox who looks at me with his jaw on the floor.

  “He has performance issues,” I add loudly, pointing at Maddox who hangs up the phone as I pay for the liquid and tuck it into my pocket. It’s in a little brown bottle with a tiny little cap. Surely this small amount can’t be enough. I should have asked for more.

  “You’re a bitch, you know that?” He shoves me but catches my arm before I stumble and just like that, everything is kind of okay.

  Little does he know the gift is for Sargent, as a joke for his birthday. Now, what can I get him as a real present? The man has everything.

  Then it hits me. I don’t need to buy him something.

  I scroll through the images on my phone until I find the one I need. I grin.

  “Let’s go home, I feel like drawing,” I say.

  “Drawing what?”

  “Never you mind.”

  “You sounded so British then.” He smiles down at me, showing his perfect teeth as he bumps his arm with mine.

  I bump him back. “Thank you for giving me another chance, Mad.”

  “I could say the same to you,” he replies, slinging his arm around my shoulder. “Just… don’t let me hear it, or see it. Let me pretend you aren’t together.”

  I laugh at that and blow out a breath. “I’m making plans to go to Africa next year with Cassius. He sent me the details last week.”

  “He said.”

  “What do you think?”

  “I think I want to come with you but I have obligations now. Big ones.”

  “Why? What’s going on?”

  His frown returns and his eyes look so troubled. “Nothing to worry about, not yet anyway.”

  I don’t believe him but I don’t press. If he wanted to talk about it, he would. So instead of prying, I hug his arm and let him know I’m here if he changes his mind.

  Sargent

  Work has been tough today seeing as I’ve been neglecting it to spend time with a certain little fiery brunette. I need to do what Cassius has done and hire somebody to handle the mundane shit so I can stay away even more. The business is running smoothly, there are teams of people for all the different areas, but there are some things that are better left to me.

  When I’m done, I head to the grocery store and pick up a few things for dinner.

  I decide on lamb, I’ve never made Tempest lamb and if she’s already eaten, I’ll just make it for myself.

  When I arrive home, Maddox is sitting on the sofa, drinking beer and the place stinks of weed.

  I sigh and look at his easy smile as he brings a large glass, blue and green striped bong to his lips.

  “What is this, a frat house? It stinks in here.”

  “It was all Pest’s idea.” He grins and I decide not to chastise him for it. It isn’t illegal and it’s not like he’s choosing this over work. I just wish he’d done it outside. The door is open but I’m still going to get an unwanted secondhand high.

  “Where is she?” I ask, looking around the room for her, expecting to find her within the vicinity.

  “She’s outside painting,” he replies and I take off running. “What? What’s wrong?”

  “Tempest?” I yell, my heart hammering as I round the corner, skidding on the wet tiles from the pool.

  “Here,” she calls and I find her in her art corner, painting on a large canvas. “STOP!”

  I immediately do so and raise a brow when she turns the easel away and picks up a half-smoked joint out of a bowl on the ground.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask, scanning her with my eyes.

  “You’re not allowed to see my paintings until they’re done. You know that.”

  “I do know that but are you forgetting about the knife-wielding maniac? You shouldn’t be out here alone.”

  “I have mace spray and a Taser… where did I put them?” She starts looking under sheets of paper and piles of paint trays for the objects. Then she gives up, shrugs and lights the joint.

  I’m not a fan of smoking but I have to admit she looks so sexy as she lets it out through her lips, making tiny Os in the smoke.

  “Want some?” She holds the joint out to me but I don’t take it. “Relax a little, Sarge.”

  “I don’t do that shit and you shouldn’t either.”

  “When I smoke it, I can deep throat,” she singsongs, walking toward me, the lit joint still in her hand. She takes one last inhale before dropping it onto the ground.

  Her words got my dick hard. Shit. I want to test her theory so badly.

  I gasp when she crushes her lips to mine, her eyes still open. Wagging her eyebrows, she breathes out and I breathe in, feeling my throat tighten and tingle as I inhale the smoke from her lungs.

  It’s only a small amount so it doesn’t do much, but it does allow her the opportunity to grip my arms and pull me around the side of the gym, out of sight of my son.

  I hardly get the chance to think or protest when she drops to her knees, pulls me free of my clothing and sucks me into her mouth.

  “Jees…” I murmur, placing my hand on her head as she goes to fucking town on my cock. Her warm, wet, willing mouth is so soft and perfect. I lean forward and push gently into her mouth. She sucks, licks, grips, and rolls in all of the right places and then she swallows the head of me and I am so glad I came home when I did.

  I’m so close, my balls are so fucking tight it’s painful. I want to hold out and fuck her right here, but I also want her to swallow me, not just my dick but everything I give her when I come.

  “Tempest,” I warn, letting her know I’m nearly there. She keeps going, keeps forcing me deeper and deeper, until I cry out. A burn spreads through my body and the most intense orgasm I have ever felt hits me, wave after wave of pure bliss. I force myself to watch her as I shoot into her open mouth and she pumps my cock with her hand, ensuring every last drop is gone before swallowing and hell… I almost come again just watching that.

  “God, I fucking love you,” I blurt breathlessly and yank her up to me.

  She smiles languidly, her lips swollen and red, her hair messy and wild, her eyes relaxed and happy. Then I realize what I said and all I can think is… well shit.

  “I love you too,” she replies before I can take it back and explain that I meant I love what she does to me, not that I love love her. It’s far too soon for that… or at least it is for me. “I’m hungry.”

  She kisses my jaw and starts to walk away.

  I just fucked up. I just fucked up so bad.

  It’s too late now anyway. Even if I do take back what I said, I can’t take back what she said and it’ll just hurt her if I do. Perhaps one day I’ll say it and mean it. I just beg that I haven’t given her false hope and tomorrow isn’t the day I wake up and decide I’m done. The thought pains me.

  Maybe I do love her in my own way?

  Whatever I feel, I don’t want it to end, not yet.

  Tempest

  I woke up extra early today to get ready, do my hair and makeup, dress nice and then make him breakfast which I serve to him in bed.

  It’s just porridge with blueberries because I’m not the best cook in the world and I’m scared I’ll
mess up anything else.

  I place his card and gift on the tray with it and smile as I approach his sleeping form. He’s on his back, essentially star fishing beneath the thin blanket in the well air-conditioned room. The muscles of his chest are so defined even as he’s lying down you can see the ridges of them.

  He told me he loved me. This handsome, incredible, wealthy man loves me. This thought makes my smile become a beam. I can’t contain it.

  He told me he loves me.

  Is this what it feels like? Is this what it should feel like? I never want it to end.

  “Happy birthday to you,” I sing, sitting on the side of the bed as he finally wakes.

  His answering smile is so broad and handsome when he sees what I’ve done. “Porridge?” His accent mimics mine.

  “Porridge,” I reply and Maddox enters the room without knocking while declaring, “OATMEAL!”

  He tosses a wrapped gift onto the bed. “Can’t stay, got shit to do. Happy birthday, Dad. Bye, Pest.”

  “Porridge!” I shout after him when he leaves and Sargent sits up and places the tray over his lap. The legs balance it on either side of his.

  “It’s been a long time since somebody went to this effort on my birthday.” Sargent grins, rubbing his eyes with the palm of his hands. “Maddox used to but not since he was fifteen I think.”

  He drinks his coffee and waits for me to kiss him.

  “So before you open your gift from me, it’s not your actual gift. Your actual gift isn’t here yet. I’m sorry, I suck I know.”

  “You certainly do suck,” he chuckles, referring to things other than what I’m referring to.

  I slap his thigh that’s peeking out from under the quilt and then lean forward to kiss it. The soft hair tickles my upper lip as my fingers dig in, massaging his shin. He groans and his head rolls back.

  “Open your gifts,” I demand, kneeling between his legs so I can rub them both at the same time.

  He opens Maddox’s first after a few mouthfuls of porridge and he smiles when he sees what it is. I lean to the side so as to get a good look when he hands it to me, still smiling.

  I hold the small key chain in my hand and flip it over. On one side is a picture of Maddox holding a baseball bat, on the other is a picture of me. Yes… me. Smiling at the camera shyly, my hair blowing across my face. It’s a photo he took before we came here. I remember the moment he took it because I was so embarrassed.

  “It’s a warning,” Sargent explains while placing the tray to the side, but I gathered that already. “Remind me to put it on my keys later.”

  “You want my face on your keys?”

  “I want your face near my dick at all times.” He chuckles when I scowl at him and starts peeling open the gift from me.

  He won’t be laughing soon.

  “This better not be what I think it is,” he murmurs as he reads the little label attached to the bottle of herbal Viagra. “You little.”

  I scream when he lunges for me.

  “I’ll show you who needs dick cream, you little twat.”

  I laugh as he pins me on the bed, tickling me along my sides and thighs with his fingers. “I just thought, because you’re an old man no… AAAAH!” He bites my hip and we wrestle for power. Me still laughing my arse off as he flips me over, rips my trousers down and penetrates me in one powerful swoop.

  My laughter stops soon after and, in its place, comes moaning and cursing. I squeeze my eyes shut and push back against him.

  When we orgasm, we orgasm together but then I panic and pull away. I race into the shower, remove my clothes and spray my vagina without shame.

  “I’m going to need another morning-after pill.” I sigh gravely when Sargent stands in the doorway laughing at me. “We’ve got to stop being so careless.”

  His laughter stops and dims to a gentle smile. “Aren’t you at the doctor’s tomorrow for birth control?”

  I nod. “I’d almost forgotten. I put it in my phone.”

  “I’ll take you.”

  “No, it’s fine.” I smile kindly. “I already asked Fidget. It’s during my lunch break.”

  “Whatever makes you happy,” he says, stepping under the water and holding me from behind. He massages my sensitive breasts, paying extra attention to the piercing, as his lips move along my shoulder. “We should look into getting you a car and license.”

  “I have a British license but I’m only here for another four months.”

  He tenses and kisses my shoulder. “Perhaps we can do something to elongate that? If you wanted to stay of course.”

  “Are you asking me to stay?” Hope swells in my chest. Could he be? Does he love me that much? Will I stay if I can?

  “I don’t know, I don’t want you to feel pressured. Let’s just take it one step at a time.”

  I nod and sag against his chest.

  “So.” He clears his throat. “Will you be smoking some wacky backy later, as you call it?”

  I know what he’s asking for, this is why I giggle and turn in his wet arms. My fingers trace the tattoo that spans from the back of his right shoulder, to his hip and across some of his spine. It’s incredible. He’s incredible. “I’ll do anything you want, it’s your birthday, just say the word.”

  “You are too good to me.”

  “I love you,” I admit, telling him for the second time and it’s true. I do. With all of my heart. Maybe it’s naïve but who cares? This feeling is amazing, why wouldn’t I cherish every moment while it lasts? “I’d do anything for you.”

  Something flickers in his eyes, something akin to remorse. “Tempest, I…”

  “Happy birthday to you!” Devon’s loud voice calls from out of the room.

  I bite my lip and groan. “I really wanted to have more sex.”

  “Later.” Sargent kisses me and gives me a gentle shove out of the shower.

  I quickly dry, dress, and race to meet Devon downstairs before he comes looking for us.

  “Morning, Pest,” he says kindly but then his smile falls. “What’s wrong? You look troubled.”

  I am troubled. I can’t get the look on Sargent’s face out of my head when I told him I loved him and he didn’t say it back. Maybe he was trying to? No… it wasn’t that kind of look. It was one of regret.

  Why do I get the horrible feeling this is all going to blow up?

  My earlier thoughts on love suddenly feel extremely naïve. I don’t want to feel this way, not if it isn’t reciprocated. I’m such a child.

  No, I’m likely being silly as he just asked me to stay not long ago. I’m reading into shit which is not something I typically do. I’ve always been a go-with-the-flow kind of girl.

  I’m tarnishing the beautiful moment where he told me he loved me, by no longer trusting him and by questioning him. So I settle down and decide to throw him the best birthday imaginable.

  By the end of the night, when he’s thoroughly spent, and we’ve had an amazing day together, I figure I made the right call.

  Tempest

  “Babe, wake up,” Sargent demanded as he ripped the blanket off my body.

  “What’s wrong?” I blinked sleepily, peering around the dark room. “What time is it?”

  “It’s past one in the morning, you need to get dressed.”

  My panic skyrocketed. “Is it Maddox? Is he okay?”

  “He’s fine… it’s us,” Sargent said quietly. “The FBI are on their way.”

  “What?” I squeaked, diving out of bed, wondering if this was all a horrible nightmare.

  It wasn’t a nightmare.

  The FBI showed up minutes later and arrested Sargent. I screamed as they held me back and slammed him to the ground roughly. They handcuffed him but he didn’t speak, just looked at me with sad eyes.

  They turned over his house, even going so far as to empty the pool and I was just made to sit there as they did so. They asked me questions but I didn’t answer. I didn’t speak. I didn’t say a word.

  Because of that
they arrested me too and Sargent… well he reacted in a way that got him Tasered.

  “SHE’S GOT NOTHING TO DO WITH THIS!” he bellowed, fighting against them. “Tempest, I am so sorry. Look at me. I’m sorry. I’m going to get you out of this, okay? I promise.”

  I begged them to stop when they pinned him again, telling him it was his fault, he was making it harder on himself.

  Seeing him there, stuck as they degraded him in such a way. It was so unnecessary.

  They asked me questions, if I took drugs, was he my pimp, shit that made no sense. Then, two hours later, they released me. Just like that. Even though the entire time I didn’t say a word. Not even when one of them called me a smart girl.

  Smart for not speaking? Who knows.

  Sargent

  Maddox called the cops when he discovered the extra containers were carrying drugs. I thought I raised him to be smarter than that. Perhaps he thought I didn’t know.

  Why didn’t he come to me?

  I wait impatiently for them to release her. Those fucks really thought they could use her to get me to confess my crimes? I haven’t committed any crimes beyond being duped myself at age nineteen. Since then it has been about survival.

  Those pricks tried everything in the book. “Your girlfriend is in there right now spilling all of your secrets. She’s told us everything about you and your little scheme.”

  She doesn’t know shit but kudos to them for trying to trap me into saying something incriminating. It might’ve worked on a guiltier person.

  My rage returns tenfold when my lawyer exits through a door with a shaken-up Tempest under his arm.

  I move to her and scoop her into my arms. She doesn’t protest, only buries her face in my neck and breathes quietly. I exit the building, glaring at Agent Samuels as I pass, who nods knowingly at me. This is all fucked up. None of this was supposed to happen yet.

  FUCK.