Private

by Xavier Neal

  “However,” I lift my eyes up to his, “they're also known for an odd ability to learn their owner’s behaviors, beg for food, and even allow themselves to be petted for treats.”

  “That...That I did not.”

  “I don't recommend it, not only because the oils of our skin can have a negative effect on their body chemistry, but also because they can be aggressive and no one wants to lose a finger to a fish. Not exactly a good story to get sympathy ass from.”

  Wes tosses his head back in laughter. The sound fills the entire area, pushing my body closer into his. His laugh much like his smile is impossible to ignore. It's captivating and charismatic, which simply adds to the reasons he shouldn't be sheltering himself from the world that exists outside those iron gates.

  “Drop your pants and then follow me,” I instruct, sliding out of his grasp to admire more of the room.

  There's a heavy sigh, but he keeps up his end of the bargain. I continue traveling the length of the wall until it ends. At that point, I turn to face a series of smaller tanks containing isolated creatures. The fascinating displays of the Green Spotted Pufferfish, Kissing Gourami, and several Angelfish in secluded areas trigger an unstoppable prate. For some vague amount of time, I spout off random information about the aquatic organisms, similar to the way someone would giving a lighthearted yet in-depth tour. It's not until I've circled back around to the first tank that it sets in I'm not only mindlessly trailing on, but that Wes is merely watching me from the semi-circle couch in the middle of the room.

  I fiddle with the necklace around my neck. “I kinda went a little Magic School Bus, huh?”

  Wes lightly laughs as I flop down on the couch beside him. “It's alright, Miss Frizzle. You were right and I learned way more about the shit in this room than I ever thought I would.”

  His attempt to smother out the minor embarrassment kicks up the corner of my lips. “Which means those black boxers hiding one of my favorite parts of you need to go...”

  “One of?”

  “Yeah. You don't honestly think it's just your cock I find irresistible, do you?” After a quick wink, I repeat, “Now off they go.”

  “You're right. You earned them.” To my surprise instead of shying away from me, Wes commands, “But if you want 'em off? Then take 'em.”

  Enthralled with his boldness, I slide off the couch, and position myself between his legs. My eyes lock on his at the same time my fingers grip the edges of the clothing. Gradually, I pull the material down, making sure to keep the challenge look in my eyes in case he changes his mind. The second Wes' cock is sprung free my attention helplessly falls to it. The thick, throbbing temptation seems to tense under my stare, only exciting me more.

  I wrap my hand around it firmly and deliver several long, drawn out pumps. The action elicits a deep, gravely groan. “You better give me a good reward for a job well done.”

  His head falls backward as he does his best not to succumb to every stroke. “If you want that then these positions should be reversed.”

  “No, they shouldn't...” I whisper back before swallowing his shaft in one swift motion. Wes' entire body trembles and his fingers tug my hair to force me deeper. With every hard suck, the last inkling of his inhibition is eradicated. He tightens his grip on my hair and syncs the thrusting of his hips to match the pumping of my mouth. For the first few moments my tongue takes its time to twist and taste the pre-cum taunting it, but Wes' greed eventually gets the better of him. The controlled bouncing on his dick quickly transforms into a vicious gorging while our moans endlessly echo throughout one another as much as the room.

  There's a small bite of pain from the pulling of my head forward seconds before a scorching burst streams its way down my tongue and throat. Guttural groans continuously erupt until the shaking of his body manages to subside. At that moment, I drag my mouth away but leave a long lick on the tip like a sexual signature.

  Once I've managed to straddle myself in Wes' lap, he wraps his arms around me and leans forward to lock lips. Surprised he doesn't hate his own taste on his tongue, I instantly submit to the wild whirls. Cupidity claws mindlessly through both of us with only one truly satisfying end in sight.

  All of a sudden the sound of a phone ringing rips our mouths apart. More than displeased I'm being twat swatted by a cell phone, I sigh, “And this is why I leave mine in my bedroom.”

  Wes gives my ass a good squeeze before reaching around me to grab it.

  “Really? Hot and horny chick in your lap and you're gonna answer the phone?”

  His bottom lip slips between his teeth in contemplation. “It could be important.”

  I wanna counter with 'more important than finally having sex for the first time this decade' but miss the opportunity.

  “This is Wes.” My fingers gently roam down his chest, resulting in a small smile from him. There's a few words spoken from the other end, which alters his expression. “I'll tell her now, Matt. Thanks.”

  When he hits the end button, I ask, “Tell me what?”

  “Time's up,” he says brightly. “The isolation period is over and he's allowing you to visit her.”

  Joy jumps onto my face. “Finally! Is she better? Does he know what's causing her body to respond this way?”

  “All Matt said was her vitals are almost normal now. She'll still need plenty of rest, but he feels a monitored visitor or two would be fine.”

  Slight irritation tramples through me. “Ugh. Does everything in this house have to be monitored? I feel like I live in The Real World special billionaire edition.”

  “Hey, this is doctor's orders. At this point we all just want Lauren to get better without having to go through the pain in the ass process of a hospital.”

  Not sure I agree with the last part of his statement, but definitely in no mood to argue unnecessarily, I move out of his lap, and declare, “I'm gonna go brush my teeth. Nothing worse than welcoming your mother with jizz on your breath.”

  Bewilderment and mirth dance around his eyes. “Has that happened before?”

  I back up slowly towards the door. “Do you really wanna know?”

  He reaches for his underwear. “No...”

  After a wink, I question, “Do you wanna meet me over there or walk with me?”

  Wes denies the invitation with a shake of the head. “Neither. You go. Spend some time with her alone. I'll visit later tonight if it's not prohibited.”

  “You sure?”

  The sweet smile on his face is proceeded with a nod.

  I press my lips together to blow him a quick kiss before slipping out of the room.

  The process of ridding the evidence of an afternoon delight is quick yet the walk over to the staff house isn't. For the most part, they drive around golf carts, but every once in a while, they're all taken and walking is, unfortunately, necessary. After realizing just how many people work on this property to keep it the prestigious slice of privacy it is, I stop classifying everyone as lazy and started empathizing. With the shit they end up having to do, I completely understand the need for all the shortcuts and extra tools possible to make their jobs easier.

  I give the door a gentle tap and wait for a response. The last thing I want it so wake her up if she fell back asleep.

  “Come in,” her voice sings, which plants a bright smile on my face.

  Opening the key card protected door that seems to currently be green lit for access, I'm immediately greeted with a similar grin from her and a scowl from the doctor.

  Without waiting for me to greet him, he clarifies, “You can visit for just a few minutes. Her system seems to have been completely flushed. Over the past few days, the aches as well as the sharp cramps have not only been relieved but seemed to have vanished. All traces of stomach pains and abdomen discomfort have also subsided. Right now I'm focused on keeping her hydrated and boosting her immune system back to a comparable level.”

  Weight falls from my shoulders as my smile gets even wider. “That's....that's ama
zing.”

  Matt grins. “I think so too. However, due to some precautions, I will be monitoring visitors for a bit while Lauren's health stabilizes. I'm going to step out, but I'm right in the hall if you need anything or have any questions.”

  “Thank you,” I softly praise and toss my arms around him. “Thank you.”

  He gives me a gentle pat on the back. “It's my job. Besides,” Dr. Hamilton pulls back to make eye contact, “Lauren is a wonderful person we love having around. I'd do whatever it took to get her back on her feet.”

  “You sound like Wes.”

  “He's stubborn but has a good heart.”

  “I'm learning that.”

  Matt flashes me a smirk and dismisses himself from the room.

  The door shuts and my mother quickly questions, “What else are you learning about Mr. Wilcox?”

  I spin around and give her a pointed look. “Other than he hates being called that?”

  She sits up a little higher. “Mmmhm...”

  “Just a few things.” I plop down in the seat at her bedside. When she lifts her eyebrows, I roll my eyes and grunt, “You can relax. I haven't tainted him too much yet.”

  Mirth flickers in her expression. “Yet?”

  “Give me a few more days and I'm sure he'll be wondering why the hell he's still hanging around me. You know. Like most guys do.”

  She stretches her hand out to clutch mine.

  It's not as if I'm not fickle. I've probably pulled the 'I'll call you and never do' card more often than the guys I dated. But for some reason, anytime I start to have more than just help me get off vibes for them, they end up ditching me for something more stable. More predictable. Something with a more apologetic nature and slightly less vulgar mouth. I'm sure once Wes realizes not only can he date, but he can literally have any woman he wants, he'll join the list of assholes who had the potential to break my heart yet never stuck around long enough to actually do it.

  “Enough about the trouble I'm causing your employer,” I tease and squeeze back. “Tell me how you're really feeling. You know. In non doctor's terms.”

  The back of my mother's head hits the pillow. “A little exhausted, but other than that, pretty normal.”

  “Did Dr. Hamilton mention if he managed to pinpoint what was making you sick?”

  She shakes her head slowly. “Not yet. However, he believes it was something I've probably been eating that metabolizes quickly.”

  “Which would be why it wasn't showing up in tests?”

  “Exactly. We won't have any definitive answers for another few days I'm sure as foods get better reacquainted in my system. I'm hoping this was nothing more than an overblown allergic reaction.”

  “Me too.”

  There's a knock on the door only a moment prior to it being cracked open. Clark's face lights up at the sight of my mother and he sighs, “You really are awake.”

  An unfamiliar gleam jumps in her eyes. “I am.”

  “Brynley,” he greets with a curt nod.

  “Hey Clark. Matt allowed you access?”

  “Um...he...he said I could have a minute of her time whenever you were finished. No rush. Take all the time you need.”

  Not wanting to run away as quickly as I came, but sensing his desperation to see her, I kindly state, “It's alright. He's probably only going to give her a couple more minutes before he puts her on lockdown again, anyway. Say hi. I'm sure she's glad to see her friends almost as much as her daughter.”

  “Almost.” She winks and gives my hand another squeeze.

  I lean over and plant a kiss in the middle of her forehead. With a sweet glance, I state, “I have to work tonight, but Wes will check on you this evening assuming Matt lets him. I'll come by first thing in the morning.”

  “Alright, honey.”

  The two of us exchange one last smile and I make my exit. After shutting the door with me on the other side, I peek in the window a final time, in hopes she wasn't just putting on a show so I wouldn't worry. Almost immediately, my eyes hone in on their hands connected in a more intimate way than two people who are just friends should be. Well, what the hell is that about? Is there something there? Are they a couple? Is it on the down low? How many more secrets are trapped between the walls of this forgotten empire?

  I lean my back against the kitchen island and ask into my ear piece, “But you're actually on the plane this time?”

  “Yes,” J.T. grunts. “And very hung over. Man, I forgot how hard people in Vegas could party.”

  “You do realize you say that every time you go?”

  “You could just come out here yourself if you're going to bitch.”

  I smirk at the sight of Brynley rounding the corner. “I wasn't bitching.”

  “Could've fooled me.”

  She mouths, “Work?”

  Shaking my head, I reply out loud, “Nah. It's just J.T. He's hung over.”

  “Put him on speaker.” As soon as I transfer the call, she leans over the phone and says, “Hey dick breath, how hung over are you exactly?”

  Dick breath? Did she really just call my best friend, dick breath? When did they become Fraternity brothers? When did that level of consanguinity form? Fuck. Why does it bother me that it's there?

  “On what scale?”

  “Sober enough to still quote Captain Kirk to last night was so fuzzy I thought I was blowing a Klingon but it was actually just a light skinned black chick with a terrible bush.”

  The imagery of the question causes me to wince. At least that's not an issue I have to worry about. Brynley's not neatly trimmed. She's waxed. Completely 110% smooth without a missed inch waxed. It may have been years since the last time I touched a woman's pussy but, I can honestly say the ones before her were the landing strip types. A bare canvas for my fingers and tongue has been a beautiful way to re-enter the world of sex. I'm sure once I get past the crippling consternation of royally screwing up more than foreplay, my cock will enjoy the newly charted territory just as much. If it ever happens. Brynley may be ready, but I'm not sure I can handle being that disappointment yet. I swear it's a miracle every time I make her come. Apparently, my fingers and tongue have impeccable muscle memory. The kind I'm sure would even baffle science.

  Brynley giggles at the sound of J.T. lightly gagging.

  “Somewhere closer to needing Uhura's help to see McCoy.”

  “That's not too bad,” Brynley insists, resting on her elbows.

  “Why do I feel like you two have your own secret language?” I sternly ask.

  “Because you don't like anything you can't play puppet master to,” she teases and waggles her eyebrows. “But if you skip pouting about it, I'll let you tug on a different string, and control what happens once it's gone...”

  The reference to her delicate choice of underwear stiffens my dick.

  J.T. quickly demands, “Tell me that was a sexual reference to your underwear and not a weird marionette fetish thing.” I roll my eyes at the same time he says, “Never mind. You can tell me about when I get back. We're about to take off.”

  “Are you gonna be home in time for dinner?” Brynley questions as my eyes helplessly roam over her swaying body, the hint of pink material she was referencing barely peeking over the edge of her jeans.

  “Should be.”

  “Good. We can finally resume our marathon.”

  “Be safe,” I interrupt, the personal necessity to say those words, stabbing me harshly. It's a superstitious habit that he humors me with any time he boards one. Even if I were to venture out into the real world, allow myself to be gawked at or judged, I would never fly again. And it's something I'm more than willing to live with. I've seen other countries. I've done some traveling. At this point, if there's anything I were to ever want to see desperately enough, it better be able to be done via a vehicle on land or water.

  “I will,” J.T. promises. “See you two soon.”

  The call ends and Brynley slides her beautiful body in front of mine. “
Before we pick up where we left off, we should get lunch. I'm starving.”

  “Didn't have enough protein earlier?”

  My joke is met with a devilish smirk. “Well played, Mr. Wes.”

  Her cockiness like her grin is often contagious. “Why thank you.”

  “Can we please do lunch first then sexual everything after?”

  Not everything....Not yet. “What do you wanna eat?”

  “All morning I've been dying to have a PB and J.”

  “What are you, 8?”

  “You are.” She winks and heat instantly fills my cheeks. “Seriously though. I want a PB and J with the bread grilled...Oh my God, those are the best! The peanut butter gets all gooey and sticks in all the best ways.”