“First of all, we don’t know that the person challenging the adoption is actually their father. He could be anyone looking to grab the gold ring. The kids are very well known down there, and he might think he can cash in, whether he is actually their father or not. Secondly, if he is their father, he threw them away like trash. I would do absolutely anything in my power to prevent him from getting custody of them. Jason and our local Ecuadoran counsel are looking into the guy’s background. Justin’s legal people in Quito are also checking into the situation. We have a lot of backup. Dr. Gonzalez is firmly in our corner as well, and he is a national institution there. In the meantime, I have had the twins’ DNA profiled, so we will be able to know for sure if the guy is their father.”
“It sounds like you’re doing all you can at this time. I guess you just have to wait and see what happens.”
“No, we have to wait and see what happens. I am not kidding, Paula. I want you to be their mother, and I want you to stand by me on this,” he said, his face serious and worried.
Trent opened the door to the master suite and pulled her into his arms as he pulled her inside. “God, I’ve missed you. I didn’t realize how much I had grown to depend on you, on your quirky sense of humor, on your smart-ass attitude, on your love, to keep me steady.” He slowly backed her up to the bed, pushed her back, and followed her down. He tenderly kissed her eyes, her cheeks, her chin, and skimmed his questing lips down her throat to the delicate skin of her breasts. He unbuttoned her shirt, pushed it off her shoulders, and then he deftly unfastened her bra. The man is really good with his hands!
“I want to make love to you here in our bedroom, baby. I’m not in the mood for any of that ‘Master’ crap,” he said. “Let’s keep that just for the club. I think the Hamiltons have the right idea. It’s a fun addition, but it’s not our life. You and me and the banditos in the crib downstairs are our life.”
She caught his head between her hands and brought his lips down to hers, answering him without words. She smiled in anticipation as he stripped the rest of her clothes off and then his own. His lips burned a trail down her stomach, heading straight for the prize that waited between her parted thighs. He ran his hand over her mons and pussy, which was wet and creamy and waiting for his possession. He slowly parted her nether lips and caressed her aching clit. She had been hot since she had looked up and seen him standing in the doorway of her office. He’s just so freakin’ gorgeous. She ran her hands through his thick, wavy blond hair. And he’s finally all mine! She writhed under his touch, trying to get a firmer contact. This time I don’t have to worry about “topping from the bottom.” She grinned to herself. That usually got her a smack on the butt, not that that had ever stopped her! A little slap and tickle is fine once in a while, especially with some good old wall-banging sex, but tonight I want to make love, and that is a very different animal.
* * * *
He slipped two of his fingers into her hot channel, and she bucked off the bed as he continued to pump his fingers in and out, simulating the love act. He could feel her body quake. His pulse quickened as he watched her reactions. Determined to taste her sweet honey, he dipped his head down and took her clit between his lips and gently bit her, laving the bundle of nerves between her legs until he could feel her sky-rocket into oblivion. When she came back down, he continued to play with her swollen pussy, his fingers moving with exquisite tenderness. When she could finally move again, she wrapped her legs around his waist and drew him into her heated center. He began the rocking motion that escalated into a pounding rhythm as he moved harder and faster toward the prize. He had missed their usual intimacy since he’d had gone to South America. He was desperate for release. His cock was as hard as steel, and he pumped into her with mounting desperation. “I love you, Paula,” he said in his deep voice, needing to say the words now, as he pushed them both toward the edge. This woman challenged him in ways he had never expected. His expert fingers played her like a fine instrument, as he reached between their bodies and stroked her clit, and they both exploded into a violent climax, reveling in the rainbow of overwhelming emotions that engulfed them.
They drifted to Earth, and he pulled her in close and whispered in her ear as his cock continued to pulse in her pussy, “You’re not going anywhere tonight, babe. I won’t let you go again. I love you.” He was amazed at how easily the words now slipped from his lips.
“I wouldn’t think of it,” she responded as she nestled contentedly against his heart.
Chapter Seventeen
Upon his return from New Orleans, Jamie moved back into the Ming Suite on the third floor of Le Club. Progress was being made on his new residence at the farm, but it was not “move in” ready yet. Jamie took the Ducati for a spin to the farm. He and Justin had some catching up to do, and he was anxious to see Mark Taylor. He had been getting regular updates from Max and Justin, but he liked to keep a personal hand on Mark’s shoulder. Usually he could be kept in line with just the occasional raised eyebrow which was sufficient to make the necessary point.
When he pulled into the main barn, he was glad to see that Justin and Max were there. When he saw Mark Taylor looking around the corner of Jester’s stall, he called him over, and handshakes, back pounding, and rough hugs ensued all around. Mark looked pleased and proud to be included as one of the guys, and it warmed Jamie’s heart to see him blossoming and making progress.
Mark went back to cleaning Jester’s stall, and Jamie, Justin, and Max went into the small barn office and sat down. Justin handed out beers from the minifridge under the desk to everyone. Jamie asked, “How’s Mark doing?”
“I’ve started him on some martial arts training, a mixed bag really, not concentrating on any one discipline right now. We’re just working on suppling, agility and strength training for an overview mostly to see where his talents may lie. We’re starting some shishikan karate jutsu, empty-handed street fighting techniques, joint locks, immobilization, pressure point, and low kicking. Both he and Kelly are doing great, but he seems to have a natural ability. His father did a good job with the beginning groundwork. He’s pushed his luck with Max a few times, to no avail.” He laughed. “And his room failed inspection once or twice, all teenage boy stuff, nothing to worry about. His mother has fixed up the cottage with curtains and stuff, and she’s planted flowers. It looks good. I think they’re happy there.”
Max interrupted. “I do have one concern. I had a call today from Father Macquire. I didn’t have a chance to tell you about it, Justin. Apparently there is another boy in school, name of Mason Adams, who is giving Mark a hard time, bragging about his blue belt, and taunting Mark about being a charity case. Apparently his dad owns a local car dealership. Father Macquire says that so far Mark has resisted striking back. Mostly there has been some verbal sparring, and Mark has just walked away. Although Father Macquire has talked to the other boy, it has not done any good. Apparently he is a bit of an arrogant bully.”
“Well, that’s bullshit,” Jamie said angrily. Mark was under his wing, and he’d be damned if anyone was going to pick on his protégé.
Justin got up from behind the desk and stuck his head out the door of the office. “Mark! Office! Now!”
* * * *
Mark put the pitchfork down and walked into the office. He looked around at the three faces and wondered if he was in trouble for something he didn’t even know he had done. He gave the riding crop still hanging on the wall a worried look. “Relax, kid. You’re not in any trouble,” Jamie said. Justin and Max just grinned at him. “What’s the story with this Mason Adams? Father Macquire called Max about it.”
“He’s just a jerk,” Mark said, not really wanting to elaborate.
“Let’s have it,” Justin said.
“We can’t help if we don’t know what’s going on,” Max added.
Jeez! Talk about being triple teamed. A guy doesn’t stand a chance around here! “He just has a big mouth, always bragging about his blue belt. Says I don’t ha
ve any belt, and my pants are probably going to fall down around my feet or some bull like that. I didn’t want to get in trouble for fighting in school, so I’ve just been trying to ignore him.”
“Wise choice, Mark,” Max said proudly.
“Maybe we should invite him out here to the dojo for a private match,” Justin said with a raised eyebrow.
“What? He’d cream me! He has a blue belt!” Mark said.
“Mark, you may not realize it, but you have been training on a daily basis with a tenth-degree black belt and fourth-dan master who is more than qualified to compete in and win at the Olympics if he chose to participate in the trials. I would not worry about Mason’s blue belt if I were you,” Max said shaking his head. “You apparently have no idea how much you’ve learned from Justin or how talented you are.” Mark looked astounded at this praise.
“Maybe I should give his dad a call,” Justin said. “We can offer him a match as a way to settle the problem between the boys. Getting his butt whipped by the new kid in school may be just what this young man needs. With his natural strength, balance, and agility, I have every confidence that Mark is more than a match for him. It sounds like this kid needs a lesson in manners. Apparently, his sensei has not put much effort into his personal character development. That’s a shame. I think we should help him with that,” Justin said with a wicked little curl tugging at the corner of his mouth.
* * * *
The next day, Justin phoned Adams Sr. at the car dealership and explained who he was. “Mr. Adams, I think we need to help the boys work through this animosity that seems to have developed,” he said. “I think a one-on-one match between them will help them settle their differences without creating a discipline problem at school. How about Saturday morning at the dojo at our farm, Devereau Plantation South? Just go north on US 27, about fifteen miles past the interstate on the west side of the highway.”
“Are you sure you want to subject young Mark to a match with my boy? He’s been in training for several years, and he’s very good you know,” he said with a touch of arrogance to his voice that raised Justin’s hackles.
Apparently the little acorn hasn’t fallen far from the tree. I’d like to teach you some manners as well, buddy, but I’m afraid we’ll have to settle for teaching them to your son instead. Maybe it’s not too late for him. “I’m sure it will be fine, Mr. Adams. Mark hasn’t been in formal training for too long, but he’s making very good progress.”
“We’ll see you Saturday morning then. Have a good day, sir.”
Justin grinned to himself. You have no idea what’s coming your way, buddy.
On Saturday morning, Mark was nervous despite pep talks from Jamie and Max. Justin determined that he and Kelly should do some katas and have a warm-up session to relax him.
When Adams Sr.’s SUV pulled into the drive, Manuel phoned to let them know their guests had arrived and were driving back to the low, shingled building that contained Justin’s private dojo. Justin, his long hair tied back with a leather strip and wearing his formal, wide-legged Yoseikan Bajutso gi and black belt, greeted them with a formal bow at the car. “Good morning and welcome to Devereau,” he said. “I am Justin Devereau, Mark’s sensei. We are looking forward to this match and hope it can resolve the problem that has been developing between the boys.”
He looked at Mason Adams and saw a gangly, red-haired young man who was starting to have skin problems, wearing a white gi with his much touted blue belt. Justin had a brief flash of sympathy for the kid when he saw his father, who was all decked out as though he was going to play eighteen holes. Probably thinks he is after his kid cleans up the floor with the “charity” case. Not going to happen! You’re both in for a big surprise. “Please join us in the dojo. Do you need an opportunity to warm up, Mason?” he asked with a tone of polite concern in his voice.
“No, thanks. I’m ready for Mark,” he said with a confident smirk.
When Justin and Adams Sr. and Jr. entered the dojo, Mark and Kelly were in the middle of a kata. At Justin’s nod, they proceeded to finish the set of fluid, stylized movements. Mark walked forward, bowed to the visitors, and then offered his hand to both Adams like the young gentleman he was becoming. Jamie and Max, who had entered by another door and were quietly watching from the sidelines, were obviously proud of him. He was a polite, good-looking young man who had come a long way in a short time.
“We have not been concentrating Mark’s training toward attaining belts at this point, so he does not have a colored one yet. Where do you study, Mason?” Justin asked.
“The Marion Martial Art Center,” he answered with a cocky grin. “I have a blue belt.”
“I can see that,” Justin replied politely. “Very impressive. You two can spar a bit to warm up if you would like.”
“No thanks. Let’s just get to it,” Mason said confidently. Any sympathy Justin had felt evaporated.
Mark and Mason each approached the mat in the center of the floor and bowed. They began to circle, eyeing each other carefully. Mason struck first with a right front middle punch, and Mark reacted by stepping to the left and blocking with his left inside palm to the outside of Mason’s arm just above his elbow and simultaneously striking with his right inside palm just below Mason’s elbow. He then moved into a left sliding step and countered with a right elbow strike to Mason’s rib cage.
Mason recovered and attempted a right roundhouse kick to Mark’s face. Mark responded with a right outside block and grab to Mason’s head, dropping his leg to bring Mason to his knees. Mason attempted a knife-hand block to Mark’s ribs and a right hand strike to the side of Mark’s neck, grabbing his hair for a takedown. Mark regained control with a left knife-hand block and countered with a right elbow strike to Mason’s face and a right grab to his head followed by a left palm strike to his chest.
Mason answered with a right outside knife-hand block, grabbing Mark’s arm and delivering a right side kick to his ribs. Mark pulled Mason’s arm and delivered a right hook kick to the back of Mason’s knee and a left reverse roundhouse kick to his ankle. Mark completed the takedown with a right ax kick to the back of Mason’s head.
It was over in minutes. Mason stayed down this time, and Mark stood back, breathing a little heavily, but with a satisfied grin on his face. Mason did not know what had hit him. It was obvious he had not expected Mark to be able to stand up to his attack. Jamie and Max gathered around Mark, pounding him on the back in congratulations. They couldn’t care less about political correctness at this point. They were extremely proud of their boy.
Justin gave Mark a wide smile over his shoulder as he put his hand down to help Mason up. He said, “I hope you have learned something today. You need to know more about your opponent before you make hasty judgments. Mark may not have been in formal training long, but he has a natural talent comprised of pure grit, lightning-fast reflexes, coordination, and natural grace that is going to serve him very well in the future. In a few more months, you won’t be able to touch him.”
Mason had a disgruntled look on his face. He clearly had not been expecting this result. Mark walked over to him, bowed formally, and offered him his hand again. Mason looked like he didn’t know whether to shake or throw a punch. Justin put a hand on Mason’s shoulder and squeezed none too gently. In his deep Master’s voice, he said quietly in his ear, “This would be a smart time to make a friend instead of an adversary.”
Mason responded by returning Mark’s bow and putting his hand out to shake. “See you in school on Monday,” Mark said with a friendly smile.
Mason just nodded as his father, red faced and looking supremely dissatisfied, said, “What am I spending all this money on training for if you can’t even beat a rank beginner?” Mason looked embarrassed and just shrugged as he followed his father out to the car.
Chapter Eighteen
It took a week for the investigators in Ecuador to track down the person claiming to be the twins’ father. His attorney had not been forthcoming
when they had requested DNA testing. The investigators had to use subterfuge to obtain a DNA sample from the purported father. They kept him under surveillance and waited until they could pick up discarded cigarette butts for testing. The samples were rushed back to the lab in Gainesville to test the DNA for comparison. In the meantime, investigators were running background checks on the individual, whose name was Juan Garcia. Trent and Paula were on pins and needles waiting for the results of the DNA test and background check.
Another week passed before Jason heard from his counterpart in Manta. “Mr. Steele, it appears that Juan Garcia is an alias for a known drug dealer and petty thief whose actual name is Eduardo Francisco Perez. He has a brother whose wife ‘had a miscarriage’ a couple of years ago. We are quietly looking into the brother and his wife to see if we can determine if they might be the twins’ parents. Have you had any results from the DNA testing yet?”
“We are expecting the results any day. In the meantime, see what else you can find out. Thank you for your diligence in this matter, Mr. Moya,” Jason said.
“Might I suggest something rather personal, Mr. Steele? It might be evidence of good character and show good faith on the doctor’s part if he was married when the adoption matter comes up for hearing. A stable married relationship would look good to the courts here. We could amend the petition to include a wife. In this culture, la familia es todo. The family is all.”
“Thank you for your input, Mr. Moya. I’ll discuss that with my client. I’ll be in touch as soon as we get the DNA results,” Jason said, concluding the conversation. He immediately advised Trent of the contents of the phone call.
“I hesitate to advise you to get married on the strength of Mr. Moya’s opinion, but he might have a point. The customs in Ecuador are different than here. The courts might look more favorably on a married applicant,” Jason said hesitantly.
Michaels, Skye - Paula's Commitment [Le Club 4] (Siren Publishing Classic) Page 9
