Big Daddy Sinatra: Carly's Cry

by Mallory Monroe

  Her orgasm started within seconds of his entry. And by the time he was in full rhythm, stroking her with fast, brutal, unrelenting thrusts, she was jerking and tightening and pulsating until her toes curled.

  Charles laid back on the bed, lifted her legs, and fucked her even harder. He went down so deep inside of her that his balls were trying to get in too. They slapped against the outer reaches of her pussy as his rod slammed into the inner reaches. And when he ejaculated inside of her, his cum was almost watery as it began to fly out of her like drops of rain spewing out. And then it was white, and thick, and began to slide out of her vagina, down his penis, like cream.

  He pushed into her for the final push, made a grunting noise that almost sounded like an animal, and then slowly pulled out. Jenay felt every vein in his rob, and Charles felt every ridge of her pussy, as he continued to slowly pull out. She was still pulsating, and was covered with the level of cream pie that only overdue sex could produce, when he finally made it completely out.

  Carly looked up from grading papers when the doorbell began ringing. She knew Donald was downstairs, so she didn’t bother to answer. Like Carly, Donald moved back in with their parents too. But unlike Carly’s situation, Donald moved back in after Charles and Jenay demoted him from the Inn’s General Manager to desk clerk supervisor. But both were there to get back on their feet.

  But when he yelled upstairs that the visitor wanted to see her, she frowned. Looked at her watch. It was just past seven in the morning. Who in the world would be visiting her at this hour?

  She hadn’t even dressed for work yet, since she didn’t have to be there until nine, and wore only a pair of Puma shorts and a Patriots t-shirt. But she placed her paperwork aside, got up from her bedroom desk, and made her way downstairs.

  “Who is it?” she asked Donald as she headed for the living room. When she turned the corner and saw Donald standing there talking, she assumed it was somebody he knew too. But she was wrong.

  “There she is,” Donald said to whomever he was talking to. “It’s one of your co-workers from Boston,” he added to Carly with a smile.

  When he moved aside, and Carly saw who he meant, she nearly died where she stood. Coworker her ass. It was her former boss! “It’s you?” she asked, stunned witless. “Mr. Reese?”

  Trevor Reese stood in her parents’ living room. He stood with his long hair pulled back, his tailored suit buttoned and snug, and his big, violet eyes as sincere as a hawk’s. “Hello, Carly,” he said, and although her heart was hammering, he said it without a hint of emotion.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  “I’m out,” Donald said as he began heading for the front door.

  “It’s only seven a.m.,” Carly said. She and Donald didn’t get along on their best day. But she needed him by her side this day. “Where are you going this early?”

  “I have Gilda’s ride. I have to drop her off at work before I head to the Inn.”

  Gilda was Donald’s biker chick girlfriend. “You don’t know how to ride a motorcycle,” Carly reminded him.

  “Gill taught me, for your information,” Donald said. “I’m out.” He said his goodbyes to Trevor, and left Carly without hesitation.

  “Your roommate?” Trevor asked in a voice that belied something more.

  “My roommate?” Carly asked as if the mere idea was disagreeable. “No.” Then she motioned for him to have a seat on the sofa.

  “After you,” Trevor said, and Carly sat down first. Trevor unbuttoned his suit coat, and took a seat too.

  “So, Mr. Reese,” Carly said with a nervous smile, “what in the world brings you to Jericho? I didn’t think you had any clients this far north.”

  “Actually, I do,” Trevor responded. “I’m on my way to Montreal. But I wanted to drop by and see you first.”

  Carly’s heart began to pound. She used to dream of him dropping by her house, to see her, to visit with her. But it never happened. “Why would you want to see me?”

  Trevor stared at Carly. She was accustomed to his stares, as he always seemed to study her rather than look at her. But this stare seemed laced with something unfamiliar. Something she had never seen before. “I would think it is obvious, Carly,” he said.

  Carly didn’t understand what he meant. “Obvious, sir? How so?”

  Trevor continued to stare at her.

  “Sir?” she asked.

  “If he’s not your roommate,” Trevor asked, “then who is he?”

  Carly was at first thrown. Why was he still harping on Donald? “He’s my brother,” she said.

  “Oh,” Trevor said in a voice that was flat, and didn’t reveal any relief. “I see.”

  Her relationship with Donald, however, was the last thing on Carly’s mind. “But why is your visit here obvious, sir?” she asked.

  Trevor realized he had veered off course. “You left my employ so abruptly,” he said.

  “Abruptly?” Carly responded too quickly, and in a voice she knew was too defensive. “I gave two weeks’ notice. Now was that abrupt, sir?”

  “The timing, my dear, was then and is still now quite curious to me. I felt as if something more was going on.”

  Carly summoned all of her gifts of persuasion to counter what she was beginning to believe was his suspiciousness. “I don’t know what you mean. My family was having difficulties, so I decided to move back home. The only thing that was going on, as you call it, was my desire to be with my family. I don’t understand where you’re going with this?”

  Trevor smiled. “You know where I’m going,” he said. “You just don’t like that I’m going there.”

  The sound of footsteps on the stairs saved Carly’s reaction. Instead of displaying the shock that was deep within her, she turned toward the sound. When her parents came around the archway, she didn’t feel totally out of the woods, but she at least felt a temporary rescue. “Mom, Dad, hi.”

  Trevor immediately rose to his feet. The two people, well-dressed in their business suits, were hardly what he expected when he envisioned Carly’s parents. The woman was a beautiful black woman, just as attractive as Carly herself, and Carly, to Trevor, was most attractive. But beyond beauty, they had nothing in common. Not even a little bit. And as to the muscular white man that she just so cavalierly referred to as her father, it wasn’t even close. They didn’t look at all alike. But races intermingled so much now, that it was hard to tell who was who anymore. “I’m Trevor Reese,” he said, as he extended his hand. “It’s very nice to meet you.”

  “Very nice to meet you, too,” Jenay said as she shook his hand.

  Charles shook his hand, too, but he was a little more hesitant. “Trevor Reese,” he said. “That name sounds familiar.”

  Carly swallowed hard. Jenay could see the strain on her face. “He’s my former boss, Dad.”

  Charles and Jenay both looked at their daughter. “Your former boss?” Charles asked.

  “Yes,” Trevor interjected. “While she lived in the Commonwealth, she ran my PR department. Ran it quite well, actually.”

  Jenay was beginning to smell a rat. Charles too. “And you’re here why exactly?” he asked.

  “I was worried about your daughter. I wanted to make sure she was okay.”

  Both Charles and Jenay knew something wasn’t right when they saw this attractive man sitting in their living room. Carly had turned down more men than they could count since her return to Jericho. They assumed, after what happened in Boston, it was still too soon. But now that they knew Trevor was her former boss, their curiosity turned into downright concern.

  “Perhaps I’m missing something,” Charles said, “but why would you be worried about my daughter? Why wouldn’t she be okay?”

  “Just before she resigned,” Trevor said, “one of our biggest clients, Ethan Campbell, went missing. He remains missing to this day. I didn’t want the same fate to befall her.”

  All three Sinatras began to experience varying degrees of anxiety. The idea that he would mention
Ethan, and the fact that he was missing, set it off.

  “I don’t understand,” Charles said. “That kind of reasoning makes no sense to me. I’m sorry to hear about your client’s fate, but why would you even suggest that Carly could have suffered the same?”

  “Just the way I think,” said Trevor. “I think circularly. I think there are no such things as coincidences and if my client goes missing and my best employee suddenly has a family emergency where she has to give notice and resign from her job, I make sure all is kosher.”

  “It’s been nearly two months since she left your employ,” Jenay said.

  “I would have come sooner, but dealing with the disappearance of one of my biggest clients has been a twenty-four hour job. Especially since my PR department still has not recovered from Carly’s absence. Yes, she was that good. And then I had other emergencies with other clients that prevented any inquiries. When I knew I was heading to Canada where one of my clients finds himself in a bit of a mess, I decided to do a spot check on my former employee. It’s as simple as that.”

  Jenay didn’t believe him. There was much more at work here. But she knew the best way to handle it, was to minimize it. “Well, we certainly appreciate your interest, Mr. Reese. It’s very thoughtful of you to drop by.”

  Trevor smiled. “No problem at all. I’m just glad to see that all is well.” Then he looked at Carly. “And I take it you’re enjoying your new life here, and your teaching job?”

  Carly fought hard against exposing her anxiety. “Yes,” she said with a smile. “Very much so.”

  “Good.” His big, violet eyes looked her up and down. Assessing her again. “Well. I won’t keep you. As I said, I was headed to Canada and I need to get on with it. Have a good day.”

  Carly smiled. “Thank you,” she said.

  Trevor said his goodbyes to Charles and Jenay, and left.

  After they saw him drive away, in a limousine of all vehicles, Charles and Jenay looked at Carly. “He knows,” she said.

  “Or maybe he just likes you,” Charles said.

  But Carly would have none of that. “No. No way. He never showed any interest in me whatsoever when we were within feet of each other every single day. But he’s interested now? I don’t buy it.”

  “Neither do I,” Jenay said.

  “Besides,” Carly added, “he knew I was a teacher.”

  Charles and Jenay looked at her. “So?” Jenay asked.

  “I never told him what I was doing, Ma. I never told him I was working at Saint Cat’s. Why would he know that?”

  Jenay already had her suspicions. That info just sealed it. But she didn’t want to worry Carly. “He could have asked,” she said.

  “It’s possible,” Charles responded. “But I’m with Car. He didn’t drop by here for the hell of it. She no longer works for him. Why should he care how she’s doing? That man is up to something.” Charles pulled out his cell phone.

  “You think his presence here is related to the shooting at the Inn?” Jenay asked.

  “I don’t know,” Charles said. “But I’m going to find out.”

  Brent was at the kitchen table with his wife Makayla when his cell phone rang. Brent looked at the Caller ID.

  “Who is it?” Makayla asked.

  “Dad,” Brent said and answered. “Good morning.”

  “Any news on Abe Norris or whatever the hell his name is?”

  “Not a word,” Brent responded. “And we still don’t know his real name.”

  “Listen, Brent,” Charles said. “I want you to check Boston. See if you can find a connection between a guy who goes by Abe Norris’s name, and Trevor Reese.”

  Brent frowned. “Who’s Trevor Reese?”

  “Carly’s former boss who just so happens to have dropped by the house this morning. He claims to be worried about her.”

  Brent’s heartbeat began to quicken. “You don’t think?”

  “I don’t know,” Charles said. “But it smells. Check him out. See if there’s a connection.”

  Brent nodded. “Will do,” he said.

  “Call me when you find something,” Charles said, and ended the call.

  Makayla was the district attorney for Jericho County. She was a voluptuous black woman, smart and well-respected for her no-nonsense approach to her job. But Brent, who did not keep secrets from his wife, had told her about what happened with Ethan Campbell. She, too, knew about that unfortunate night. “What is it?” she asked as she stood and began to clear the table.

  Brent looked at her. “Boston,” he said.

  Makayla stopped all activity. She knew exactly what he was talking about.

  But Brent explained. She was his sounding board. “Carly’s former boss,” he said, “decided, out of the blue, to drop by and check on her.”

  “Were they close like that?”

  “Dad didn’t say, but it didn’t sound like it. He wants me to see if there’s a connection between that protestor and her boss.”

  “And what if there is a connection?” she asked.

  Brent ran his hand through his thick, black hair. “Then somebody knows something,” he said. “Then we’re screwed,” he added, as he looked her dead in the eyes.

  And Makayla, fully understanding what that night could cost them, sat back down.

  The connection could not have been more plausible moments later when knocks were heard on the Sinatras’ front door. Charles answered, but Jenay and Carly were right there too. They were a well-known family, but even they didn’t get this many guests this early in the morning. Especially, when Charles looked through the peephole and saw two very formal looking men, and a uniformed cop. He quickly opened the door. “Yes?” he asked. “May I help you?”

  “Is Carly Sinatra here?” the man asked.

  Carly stepped in front. “Yes?”

  “Miss Sinatra, my name is Special Agent Goosley.” He showed his ID. “This is Special Agent Javier Lucentos. And this is Officer Holland of the Jericho County Police Department. We need you to come with us, ma’am.”

  Charles moved back in front of his daughter. “Come with you where?”

  “We’re taking her back to Boston.”

  Carly felt faint. Was this really happening? “Why?” she asked as she moved beside her father. “May I ask why?”

  “We have a warrant for your arrest, ma’am,” Goosley said. “We have extradition papers. We’re here to take you back.”

  Jenay placed a hand around Carly’s waist. “But what are you arresting her for?” she asked, reeling too.

  “What’s the charge?” Charles added.

  “We have a warrant to arrest Carly Sinatra,” Goosley said, “for the kidnapping and murder of Ethan Marvin Campbell.”

  They knew that had to be the reason, but just hearing those words still hit them like a ton of bricks. Because it was true. Because this wasn’t just some miscarriage of justice, and they were all involved.

  But Charles was not about to surrender not even a part of the point. “My daughter didn’t murder or kidnap anybody,” he said, as he pulled Carly back and stepped in front of her.

  “Out of the way, sir.” The agents placed their hands on their weapons. “Do not interfere with the performance of our responsibility or you will be arrested too.”

  “But what are you talking about?” Charles asked. “My daughter didn’t kidnap and murder anybody!”

  “Please step out, Miss Sinatra,” Goosley said.

  Carly was floored. “But I don’t understand. Ethan is missing. They said he’s missing. You found him?”

  “We found his body,” the agent said.

  Charles knew better than that. He went with Mick to bury that body. He saw it with his own two eyes! “What does your finding his body have to do with my child?” he asked.

  “What does it have to do with me?” Carly also asked.

  “We found his body,” Goosley said to her, “in the home in Boston that you, up until a few months ago, rented.” He pulled Carly out
of the house and began handcuffing her. “That’s what it has to do with you.”

  Carly’s heart was hammering. Jenay was so beside herself that she leaned against Charles to remain standing up. Charles put his arm around her, flustered too. Because it couldn’t be possible. What were they talking about? They found the body in Carly’s house? Ethan Campbell’s body? In Carly’s house? They didn’t know what they were talking about!

  But he knew there was nothing he could do at this point. Railing against the FBI was liking railing against the wind. They had no choice but to take the blows.

  But Charles wasn’t so thrown that he couldn’t warn his daughter. “Don’t you say a word to anybody,” he ordered Carly as they followed her to a waiting patrol car. “They’ll twist your words around and claim you confessed. Don’t you say one word to anybody! You hear me, Carly?”

  “Yes, sir,” Carly said, as a pool of tears appeared in her big, sad eyes.

  Charles’s heart broke. “We’ll get you out of this, baby,” he said. “I’ll get you out of this!”

  But it was just talk and bluster, and they all knew it, as he and Jenay watched in horror as those law enforcement officers, those enforcers of laws they clearly had broken, took Carly away.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Somebody was blowing up his phone. Calling over and over again. He was in the back of his estate working out in his gym. He didn’t have any of his men on any call-outs. Roz and the twins were up at the house. Nothing should have been this urgent. But he nodded to his spotter anyway. The spotter, a longtime employee, went over to the bench and grabbed his cell phone. Mick Sinatra lifted the weights up over his sweat-filled, muscular chest, and racked them.

  He sat up and grabbed the towel. His spotter handed him the phone. “Who is it?” he asked.

  “A Charles Sinatra, sir,” the spotter replied. “According to the Caller ID.”

  Charles blowing up his phone like that? He was more curious now. His brother didn’t call him unless it was serious. He took the phone from his spotter and answered it. “Good morning.”