Prodigal Son (Jensen Family Series)

by Michelle Day

  “Ah yes, about that, you wouldn’t dream of making Tessa or Matthew do the kind of work you have set Paul so why on earth is he scrabbling around on his hands and knees destroying files?”

  “He is here as a punishment Father, a fact of which you are well aware, he doesn’t deserve the privileges the other two get.”

  “Think about it Michael,” Charles countered “Paul runs his own extremely successful business and has proved time and again that he can manage that and his staff with ease, I appreciate that he has a natural talent for causing problems and getting himself into trouble but the boy is bright, he has a quick mind and all you will succeed in doing by putting him to menial tasks is destroy his spirit.”

  “That was sort of the point.” Michael admitted “To destroy his spirit, he has far too much of it and needs to be curtailed into behaving, if that means breaking him, then so be it.”

  “Do you honestly think he will sit back and let that happen? He will simply run off again and I seriously doubt that you will get him back again. I expect that prospect fills you with joy, you never did bond with him but think of your wife, estrangement from Paul would destroy her.”

  Michael had to admit that Charles was right, he sighed, pressing his fingers together and resting them on his pursed lips as he regarded his father “You are right,” he eventually spoke “Paul leaving would do a great deal of harm to Monica and I won’t allow that to happen. What do I do with him though? I don’t want him disturbing Matthew or Tessa nor do I want him involved in the day to day running of the office, he is intelligent enough to be able to bring this place to a standstill if he chooses.”

  “I’ve been thinking about that ever since I heard he was here. Why don’t you put him with Satchell?” Charles asked referring to the mole of a man who resided in one of the tiny front offices, sifting out customers who were potentials for bankruptcy.

  “Of course, it would keep him out of the way and give him something to occupy his mind.” Michael beamed.

  “And Satchell always seems to have an overflowing in tray, he could teach Paul to take over from him when he retires.” Charles added.

  “Father, you are brilliant, I will call Satchell in this afternoon and let him know what’s expected of Paul. Thank you.”

  “My pleasure but before Paul can go into Satchel’s office, he needs a suit.”

  “Yes, of course, I will take him to buy one in the morning.” Michael relayed his conversation with his father to Monica that evening as they were preparing for bed, adding “I think it’s time I had a new suit, I think I’ll get measured while we are there.”

  The following morning, after a brief visit to the office, Paul accompanied Michael on his very first suit buying expedition.

  “I’m getting my suit handmade,” Michael told him as they entered the store, “Tessa’s friend Joanne, Maureen or someone...”

  “Suzanne.” Paul corrected.

  “Yes that’s right Suzanne, she works here and I believe she deals with off the rack clothing, go and find her and get sorted out with a decent suit.”

  Paul grinned as he walked away; his father had just given him permission to seek out his lover, it had been a while since he’d seen her and he was looking forward to it immensely.

  Ten minutes later he finally tracked her down. He stopped halfway across the floor space of the jewellery department to take in the delicious sight of her tight pencil skirt stretched across her pert bottom as she leant over one of the glass display cabinets. His eyes travelled from her behind down her legs, noticing the clasps of her suspenders pressing against the fabric of her skirt, her dark stockings clung to her shapely legs; her nicely turned ankles drifted into tiny feet and obscenely high heeled black shoes. As he watched, she came up onto tip toe, stretching the fabric of her skirt further as she leant the weight of her upper body on her arms to get a better look at something in the glass display stand beneath her chest.

  Standing beside her, he too leant over the cabinet to see what had grabbed her interest, she smelled heavenly and the tight white blouse didn’t detract from her delightful breasts of which he had a lovely view as they pushed against the open neck line.

  She caught his scent before she noticed his face reflected in the glass below her, she glanced into his eyes via the glass and smiled before standing straighter, her hands on the counter as she turned her head towards him.

  “Can I help you?” She asked, her eyes twinkling as he tore his gaze from her breasts.

  “I sincerely hope so.” He answered, biting back on the huge grin that threatened to burst onto his face.

  She laughed “What are you doing here?” She asked.

  “I have to get a suit.” He shrugged “What were you looking at that gave me the fantastic view as I walked over?” He asked, glancing down at the cabinet.

  Stretching her arm out, Suzanne placed the tip of her index finger on the glass above the diamond tennis bracelet “That. I love it but I’ll be drawing my pension before I can afford it.”

  Leaning closer to get a better look, Paul smiled; he liked the look of the bracelet and thought it would suit her very well. “I’ll get it for you one day.” He said.

  “Uhuh, of course you wil.l” She mocked.

  “I promise,” he placed his hand over his heart “Now that’s out of the way, are you going to help me find a suit?”

  “Follow me.” She beckoned him, knowing he would watch the sway of her hips for a couple of paces before he followed.

  “Gladly.”

  He stood patiently as she cajoled the male assistant to lend her his tape measure under protestations that measuring customers was his job. Batting her eyelids and adjusting her breasts, drawing the man’s gaze, she assured him that she was more than capable and as this man was a friend and his family valuable customers, it was part of her job to give him preferential treatment, she did all this whilst escorting him out of the department and insisting he take his lunch break while she took care of the customer.

  “Nicely done.” Paul commended her.

  “Thank you, do you know what size neck you are?” She asked.

  “Not a clue but I can give you my other measurements.” He grinned.

  “I am well aware of the size of your dick.” Her professional veneer cracked “Stand still while I measure you.”

  He complied while she measured his shoulders, chest, sleeve length and waist but he stepped out of her reach as she went down on her knees, the tape measure pressed into his groin. His hand covered hers and removed it,

  “Suzie, I can’t in good conscience let you do that part.”

  “Why not?” She looked up at him from her knees “I do need your inside leg measurement.”

  “I understand that but the last time you were on your knees in front of me you were sucking me off, it’s been a while and I only have so much self control.”

  She smiled and pressed the tape measure into his hand “Fine. You hold that end and I’ll take the measurement.”

  Once she had completed this task she told him to go into the changing room while she selected shirts, suits, ties and shoes and arrived while he was undressing with four very nice off the rack suits, two pairs of shoes, a selection of ties and shirts in varying shades.

  He hated the first two suits and try as she might not to laugh at the faces he was pulling in the mirror, she had to agree that something wasn’t quite right with them, he returned to the dressing room with an additional shirt she had found, had taken off the offending suit and was buttoning the newest shirt when she stepped into the room. With no preamble what so ever, she swayed up to him and pressed her lips to his, her high heels giving her the height she needed so that she didn’t have to stand on the tips of her toes to reach his mouth, her hands flying over the recently fastened buttons of the shirt.

  Breaking the kiss, he watched her hands roaming his chest, swiftly followed by her mouth, “This shirt appears to be faulty, I thought I had just buttoned it up and yet it looks as thou
gh they’ve come undone again.”

  “Shut up. I’ve missed you. I want you. NOW.” She pressed her chest to his.

  “Oh God!” He groaned, instantly aroused “Suzie, I can’t, I’m seeing someone and it’s pretty serious.”

  “I know all about the teacher and the baby and I don’t give a flying fuck.” She wriggled her skirt up over her hips, revealing her suspenders and the creamy skin above her stocking tops before hooking a leg around his hip and grinding her mound into his groin “Admit it, you want me” her tongue teased his lips and she clung to him as he grabbed her and kissed her.

  Letting his shoulders rest against the wall of the changing room, he thrust his hips. outwards as she hooked her other leg over his hip, her hands gripping his shoulders, leaving it to him to free his erection, move her underwear aside and lower her down onto him, she was so aroused and wet that she accommodated him easily, he shuddered as he sank into her, his full length disappearing with ease.

  “We have to be quick lover” She breathed.

  “I seriously doubt that will be a problem.” He gasped as she wrapped her arms firmly around his neck and began to ride him, “I love how wet you get, it’s beautiful, fuck, Suzie, I’m nearly there.”

  “Wait.” She hissed “Me first,” she knew he would hold back, she knew exactly how to play him, she placed one heeled foot on the floor and wrapped the other leg further around him, grinding her mound into his pubic bone, capturing his mouth to drown out the groan of their combined orgasm. Feeling him subside, she let her other leg fall to the floor and kissed him while adjusting her underwear before stepping back and easing her skirt over her hips. “Thank you Mr. Jensen that was just what the doctor ordered.”

  “Boyfriend not doing it for you?” He asked, his underwear back in place, he once again buttoned the shirt and reached for the trousers.

  “Not like you do.” She admitted.

  “Then dump him and date me.” He glanced at her as he reached for the jacket.

  “No, I like him and he’ll get there in the disgusting sex stakes besides, didn’t you say you were serious about the teacher?”

  “Hmm,” he mumbled “So serious that I’ve just fucked you in a dressing room.”

  “Proving my point that you aren’t ready for a serious relationship. That looks great.” She smoothed the lapels on the jacket. “Come outside and have a look in the bigger mirrors.”

  Michael was sitting in the waiting area, a coffee on the table beside him as they left the dressing room and entered the department the sight of him making Paul do a quick recap of what had just happened, hoping that neither of them had voiced their pleasure as Michael would be sure to mention it at some point during the day.

  “Hello Mr. Jensen, we won’t keep you long.” She beamed at him “Yes, I think this is definitely the one.” She smiled at Paul “What do you think?”

  “I like it.” He agreed.

  “Hmm, there’s something missing, let me see, erm I know, cufflinks.” She eased the cuffs of the shirt out of the jacket to make sure it didn’t have buttons before whirling away only to return moments later with the cufflinks, fastening them to the shirt, she told him to remove his jacket and have a hard look at the fit of the trousers and shirt, their eyes meeting in the mirror and both smiling, the end effect was dazzling, his frame carried a suit perfectly. “Will this be suitable?” she turned to Michael.

  “That will do nicely.” Michael nodded “Please remove the tags, he can keep it on, we are returning to the office.”

  Once in the car on the way to the office, Paul glanced at his father, one hand playing with the lapel of his new jacket “Thanks Dad.” Those two words being the most he had said to the older man in weeks.

  “I didn’t do it out of the kindness of my heart.” Michael gruffed “You will soon be meeting clients, the suit is a necessity.” He didn’t see eye to eye with this boy but he was pleased his manners appeared to be intact.

  By then end of Saturday, Paul was exhausted and pleased to find his brother was nowhere to be found when he stepped out of the shower. Dressing in an old sweatshirt and loose fitting jogging bottoms, he joined the rest of his family for an early evening meal, stifling yawns repeatedly throughout before retiring to his room.

  “Hey Paul, wake up” Matt shook his sleeping sibling again.

  “What?” Paul gruffed, he felt as though he had only just closed his eyes “It can’t be morning already?” he mumbled, rolling away from Matt’s persistent shaking.

  “Nah man, it’s Saturday night, why are you in bed? It’s time to partay.” Matt grinned dancing to the imaginary beat in his head “Come on, get up.”

  “Matt, I’m knackered, I’m gonna stay in tonight.” Paul brushed his hair out of his eyes, frowning at his brother but he couldn’t help smiling when Matt began to dance.

  “Paul, it’s two for one night at Jokers, we have to go.”

  “Well, if you’d said we were going to Jokers, I’d be dressed already.” He sat up, grinning at his brother “Give me ten minutes.”

  Jokers, hardly a premier night spot but the Jensen twins loved it, if they were to be found anywhere on any given Friday and Saturday night, it would be there. The club was run down to say the least, the furnishings were shabby, the dance floor worse but the booze was cheap and the music jumping, this coupled with the fake ID’s the boys had got their hands on and a sizeable donation to the scarily large doorman guaranteed them entry to the club each and every time they arrived at the door, Jokers was indeed the venue of choice for them.

  The Jensen boys were well known at the club and were a draw in themselves, both being outstanding in the looks department and with physiques to die for, no sooner would they step into the club than they would be surrounded by the people they knew there, all much older than them and mainly of the female persuasion.

  Sending Paul to the bar, Matt headed for the dance floor and gyrated his way into a delightful smelling group of ladies who were dancing around their handbags, within seconds he was up close and personal with the girl he had selected from the group, her bottom pressed to his groin, grinding hard to the beat.

  Paul fought his way to the packed bar and amusing bar staff, all of whom were either lithe, scantily clad women or handsome, built men who would further encourage the deviant behaviour at the club by dancing so close that they could be mating and openly kissing and fondling each other as well as flirting outrageously with the patrons.

  As was the norm when Paul approached the bar, the manager appeared in front of him, not needing to ask what he wanted; the two had an established rapport and the man had, on several occasions, offered Paul a bar job to which Paul would smile and come up with a feasible excuse as to why he couldn’t take the job up until the day the bar manager had cottoned on that he was not only too young to serve behind the bar but also too young to actually be in the club in the first place. After, taking Paul to one side and telling him he knew both the boys were underage; he smiled and then told him that he was prepared to turn a blind eye to that fact provided they didn’t cause any trouble.

  By half two on Sunday afternoon, both boys had surfaced, Paul sitting at the breakfast bar nursing a cup of tea along with a pile of chocolate digestives while trying to get his banging head around that week’s staff schedules, a pen in one hand, a largely un-smoked cigarette in the other, he stared, uncomprehending at the paper in front of him.

  Matt, having risen mere moments before his brother had made it as far as the bottom of the stairs before his spinning head succeeded in getting the message through to his bubbling stomach that it needed to void its contents and quickly. Bolting for the downstairs cloakroom and managing to angle his head over the bowl milliseconds before the acidic contents of his stomach flowed into the toilet. Trying not heave in time with his brother, Paul made a hasty retreat to the kitchen which is where Monica found him.

  “You look dreadful.”

  “I feel worse.” Paul mumbled “Is Matt still throwing up?�
�

  “Yes” she confirmed noticing that her youngest son made a tremendous effort not to dry heave at the thought, “Can I get you something a little more substantial than biscuits?”

  “No thanks Mum; it’s about all I can manage right now. I’ll be fine once my head stops pounding.”

  Monica put a packet of paracetemol and a glass of water in front of him, adding another glass when Matt stumbled into the kitchen and took the stool next to Paul.

  “I am never drinking again.” He declared as he downed two tablets and sunk the glass of water.

  “Ah, the morning after lament” Monica quipped.

  “I don’t know why you bother drinking when you inevitably end up puking most of it down the toilet.” Paul commented, he tentatively managed to stretch his tight muscles, the large glass of water and pain killers were slowly taking effect.

  “One way or another it all ends up down the bog.” Matt told him “Whoa, whoever gave you that sure had a big mouth.” He finished having caught sight of the dark red love bite on Paul’s neck.

  Sliding off his stool, Paul approached the mirror at the far end of the kitchen “Shit” he muttered “How the hell did I get that?” he asked no one in particular as he re-took his stool

  “Don’t know why you bother drinking if you can’t remember anything.” Matt shot a sideways glance at him.

  “Very fucking funny.” Paul lashed out, landing a playful punch on Matt’s hugely muscled arm “Did you see me with anyone last night?” he asked, all the while painfully aware that although Monica seemed occupied with the dinner preparations, she was listening intently to her sons.

  “I saw you with several someone’s last night but you didn’t seem to be that close to any of them, you did disappear for about half an hour though and I did see a couple of ladies coming in from the compound straightening their clothes, it wasn’t long after they hit the dance floor that you appeared.”

  “Crap. I really shouldn’t drink.” Paul put his head in his hands; Matt’s description was prodding memories and did also explain why he’d woken up still wearing a condom.