Carnage Boxset

by Jones, Lesley

  Her loud moan and muscle spasms let me know she’s there, and I let go inside her.

  After a few moments to catch our breath, I flatten my front to her back, wrap my arms around her waist, and pull her close.

  “Thirty-three years, baby. I never thought back then that I could love you more, but every year gets better.”

  “Stop trying to make me cry again.”

  I kiss the back of her sweaty neck and then run my tongue over the same spot. Her muscles clench around me, and my cock gives a little jerk.

  “Rather make you ‘come’ again.”

  She turns her head and smiles at me. “That’d make it four O’s in less than twenty-four hours. Anyone’d think it was Christmas.”

  “Every day is like Christmas with you, though, baby. I got lucky, you’re the gift that keeps on giving . . . and taking. We should spare a moment to think of Santa right now. Poor old fucker only gets to come once a year.”

  This time she gives me a different type of groan. “That’s worse than one of Cam’s jokes.”

  “It is one of Cam’s jokes; he cracked it earlier.”

  We’re both quiet again for a moment.

  “I love you, Lennon Layton. Thank you for our amazing life and another fantastic Christmas. I know things have been a bit shit lately, what with everything that’s been going on with Paige, but I’m so very glad to have you to lean on through it all.”

  “Teamwork, baby, team—”

  I’m cut off as someone bangs on the door.

  “You better not be having sex in my office. I have security cameras in there; everything gets recorded. If you are, I’m so showing it to Mum and Dad tomorrow.”

  “Fuck off, Porge.”

  “Make me! And don’t call me that!”

  I lay one more kiss beneath my wife's ear. “Merry Christmas, baby, now let’s get you cleaned up.”

  * * *

  MARLEY

  “Where’s Jimmie?” Georgia asks, flopping down on the sofa next to Ash.

  “Went wandering off earlier. Len went looking for her. Now, who knows. Probably shagging in your office or somewhere.”

  Ash then proceeds to pout her lips and look at me.

  “Everyone’s getting some tonight except for me. I’m not feeling the love—or your dick. Not. At. All.”

  “Baby, I was singing. I know I’m good, but I can’t give you a live version of “Fairytale Of New York” and sex at the same time. Especially in the middle of my sister’s family room with an audience.”

  She gives me a lazy, drunken smile. “You used to like people watching us.” And fuck me if I’m not suddenly rock hard.

  Now that no one is karoakeing, the only sound in the room is our conversation, but then all falls silent when we hear a loud groan coming from the hallway.

  “Oh my God.They are actually having sex in my office,” Georgia snaps, her head turning towards Cam. “T, they’re shagging in my office.”

  Cam shrugs his big shoulders. “So?”

  “That’s . . . It’s . . . no, just no.”

  “Calm the fuck down, Kitten. They’re fucking, not killing each other.” But George isn’t listening. She hauls herself off the sofa and sways her way up the hallway.

  “Ooops.” Ash giggles.

  “You better not be having sex in my office.” We hear George shout as she bangs on the door. “I have security cameras in there; everything gets recorded. If you are, I’m so showing it to Mum and Dad tomorrow.”

  “Georgia, leave them the fuck alone,” Cam calls out to her.

  “Fuck off, Porge.” We all laugh at Lennon’s response.

  “Make me! And don’t call me that.”

  “Go sort your sister out.” Cam looks at me and orders.

  “Get fucked. She’s your wife; you sort her out.”

  “You two are such a pair of pussies,” Ash adds.

  We are. None of the men in our family are brave enough to deal with Georgia when she throws a tantrum or has a meltdown.

  Reed and Nina are watching us with amusement.

  “I agree with Ash, you’re a pair of pussies,” Reed chimes in.

  “You go and sort her out then,” Cam and I both suggest, just as we hear more banging on the office door.

  “For fuck’s sake.” Cam sighs, marching out of the room like a man on a mission.

  “Go get her, Tiger!” Ash shouts after him.

  “You got this big man,” I add, as Cam flips us all his middle finger.

  We all fall silent, listening for how he’s gonna “handle” her, but all we hear is George scream and then giggle.

  “Surely, he isn’t gonna shag her again?” Ash grumbles.

  “Well, it’d be one way of shutting her up,” Reed responds.

  “Oh, don’t bet on it. When Georgia’s on a mission nothing can stop her,” I tell him.

  “Bet if TDH stuffs that nine-inch dick of his down her throat, she’d shut up. That thing could probably even shut me up.”

  Nina spits her drink at my wife’s remark. I choose to ignore it.

  Cam steps back into the room and has George hanging over his shoulder.

  “I’m taking my wife to bed. You all know where you’re sleeping, right? Help yourselves to anything you want. Thanks for a great day and night. Say goodnight, Kitten.”

  He spins around so that George is facing us. She pulls herself slightly upright and waves her hand.

  “Good night, Kitten,” she slurs, then giggles, and then screams when Cam slaps her arse. We are all still watching as she buries her face in his jean-covered arse and bites it.

  “Ow. That fucking hurt.” We all laugh at that. The fact that skinny George is brave enough to do that to a big bloke like Cam amuses the rest of us.

  “Night. Love you all. See you for brunch tomorrow.”

  They retreat up the hallway to the sound of all of us remaining wishing them good night and thanking them for a great day and night.

  “You ready for bed, Mrs Reed. The boys are probably gonna be up in about two hours.”

  Nina already has her eyes closed. “You can deal with your sons in the morning. I’m staying in bed.”

  “Yeah, we’ll see. Come on, let’s go. Night, you two.”

  Conner’s wife is tiny, and he has no problem picking her up and carrying her out of the room.

  I pull Ash across my body so that she’s straddling me.

  “Where’d you want me to fuck you, baby?” I ask as she nuzzles into my neck.

  “Not up the arse, I didn’t bring any lube,” she mumbles. Making me chuckle.

  “Noted, but I meant did you have a room preference.” I continue to laugh.

  “Oh, soz,” Ash again mumbles, this time on a yawn. I slap her backside. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

  I stand with her still wrapped around me like a monkey and make my way up to the room we’re staying in, making sure to bang on Georgia’s office door as we pass just to piss off my brother. That earns me a “fuck off” from both him and Jimmie, making Ash giggle into my neck.

  I throw her gently on the bed and know immediately that I’m gonna be shit out of luck if I was hoping to make love to my misses. She’s practically out cold already.

  I pull off my jeans and socks, then pull Ashley’s UGGs and jeans off. I chuckle at the knickers she has on underneath. They’re like a little pair of shorts in a baby blue colour. On the front is a rather raunchy looking Alice from Wonderland, winking and pointing down between my wife’s legs. Under the picture are the words: “Eat me.”

  I know it’s wrong to take advantage of her while she’s drunk, but fuck it! I blame Alice; she ordered me to do it. I lean forward and bury my face between Ashley’s legs and breathe her in at the same time as I reach inside my boxers and grip my dick.

  I plan to leave it at that, go to sleep with a hard-on and wait until my wife is cognizant and aware of the dirty things I’m doing to her. I might be a perv, but I’m not a fiend, after all. But then Ashley’s hand
s are in my hair, pressing into the back of my head, forcing my face down harder between her legs.

  “Take them off, Rock Star. Take off my knickers and fuck me with your tongue and fingers.” And because Marley loves Ash, I do exactly that.

  Within seconds, her underwear is off, my tongue is working her clit, and I’m curling two fingers inside her. I keep working at my dick with my free hand as Ash positions her legs so that they’re hanging over my shoulders, tilting her hips up into my face and giving me access to her tight little arsehole.

  Her knees press against my ears on either side of my head, her heels dig into my shoulders, and her hips gyrate up into my face.

  “Nearly there, baby.”

  “Wait for me,” I order. When I know I’m close, I slide two fingers inside her arse, her back immediately arches off the bed, her legs tighten around my head and shoulders, and her internal muscles grip my fingers as she groans. I push her legs away, sit up, and come all over pussy and lower belly.

  Her blue eyes shine up at me.

  “Thought you were tired?” I question.

  She grins back at me lazily.

  “Your hot mouth on my mildred woke me up.”

  We stare at each other in silence for a few long moments.

  “Love you, Baby, Merry Christmas.”

  “Love you, too, Rock Star. Thanks for the orgasm.”

  * * *

  Georgia

  My head spins as Cam lays me on the bed and peels me out of my clothes.

  “Teeth,” I mumble.

  He pulls me up, slings me back over his shoulder, and carries me to the bathroom where he sits me beside the sink.

  He just has his boxers on, and I close one eye so that I can try to focus on his beautiful body and the way his muscles ripple and move.

  Cam will be sixty soon but has the physique of a man half his age. He works hard at it, and the results are evident for all to see.

  “You are so fucking hot, Mr Tiger Husband.”

  He chuckles as he passes me my toothbrush, now loaded with paste.

  I take it from him and begin brushing.

  “Mr Tiger Husband. That’s a new one.”

  “Yeah. Just made it up. You like it?”

  “You made it up, just for me? Then, of course, I love the fuck out of it. Spit.”

  I frown as I try to process what he just said.

  “Mt mo malmays ma mullow,” I attempt to talk around the mouthful of foam I’m now holding on to, smile, and then lean over and spit it into the sink.

  “What was that?” Cam asks, handing me a glass of water.

  I take it, rinse my mouth, and spit again.

  “You told me to spit, but you always tell me to swallow,” I explain.

  “I meant the toothpaste, Kitten. You spit the toothpaste but swallow my cum.”

  “Oh.” I laugh and then squeal as he picks me up and carries me back to bed.

  Cam helps me out of the rest of my clothes and then hands me one of his T-shirts to sleep in.

  We climb under the duvet, and he pulls my back into his front, my safe place.

  My thoughts are an erratic jumbled mess, and for some reason, memories of when my family had me sectioned jump to the front of my mind.

  “Thank you for a merry Christmas, Cameron. I’m glad I didn’t die and stayed alive to share all of this with you.”

  “Georgia, what the fuck?” I’m flipped to my back, his big body covers mine and his angry scowl darts all over my face.

  “What?” I question.

  “What d’ya mean you’re glad you didn’t die?”

  I shrug, and tears start to burn my eyes and nose.

  Letting out a deep sigh, I admit, “I thought about it almost every day until you came back into my life. As soon as I realised I’d never stopped loving you, you gave me a sense of purpose, a reason to get out of bed every day.” Tears are falling freely from my eyes now, running into my ears and over my neck.

  I feel tired and woozy. I just wanna go to sleep.

  “If I didn’t have you, I think I’d probably be dead,” I tell him honestly.

  “Don’t fucking talk like that, George. You found me. We found each other, and neither of us is going anywhere. Now go to sleep, I don’t wanna hear any more dying bullshit.”

  “There is no more dying bullshit, that’s exactly my point. It’s because of you. You saved me and I know it’s taken a lot longer than it should’ve but I’m there Cam, I’m finally there.”

  Thoughts and words are swirling around in my head, and I’m not sure if I’m speaking out loud or just thinking them.

  He once again repositions us, and the last thing I remember is my Tiger Husband kissing the top of my head and whispering, “You are the most complicated human being I have ever met, but I love the fuck outta you and wouldn’t change a thing. Merry Christmas.”

  That’s It For Now…

  But Keep Going For A Little

  Taste Of What’s Next…

  The Definition Of Insanity Coming in 2019 . . .

  Prologue

  PAIGE

  “It’s your sixteenth, Paige. Not your eighteenth, not your twenty-first, your sixteenth. You are not holding it in a nightclub.”

  I carried on walking towards my uncle’s office, ignoring my mother’s argument being shouted from somewhere behind me as she tries to keep up.

  “Let’s just talk to Cam; there may be a way around this. Perhaps if she has it on a Sunday, or holds it in the VIP area with a strictly no alcohol policy in place? Although, I’m not sure if that’s even legal, so we’d have to check on that first.” I heard my aunt say to my mum, using a placating tone. If anyone can win my mum around, it’s Georgia.

  I stopped and turned around to face them as they walked across the empty nightclub towards me.

  “You’re so negative sometimes, Mum. Why can’t you be more like George? Instead of shutting down every suggestion I make, why can’t you at least try to see if it’s doable first?”

  “Don’t speak to your mother like that.”

  My eyebrows instinctively shoot up to my hairline at my aunt’s words. She is the coolest person I know and usually has my back, so I am a little surprised by her tone and feel my cheeks flush.

  “I’ll help make this happen if it’s legally possible but don’t be rude to your mum. Otherwise, you’ll be sitting at home on your Jack Jones for your sixteenth, or worse still, the whole family will drag you to The Harvester and make you spend it with us.”

  I fold my arms across my chest and glare between my mum and my aunt. I couldn’t think of anything worse than spending my sixteenth birthday at The Harvester with my insane family. We’d probably end up getting thrown out . . . again.

  “I thought we were banned from The Harvester?” I question.

  “Weatherspoon’s then, we’re not banned from there,” my aunt snaps.

  “I think we are actually. Remember that time we popped in for a quick drink and that woman flashed her tits at Marley and Ash threw a bottle at her?”

  “You’re not helping, Jim.”

  I let out a loud huff, and they both look at me.

  “Jesus, this is like déjà vu. She looks exactly like you at that age,” my mum says quietly, my aunt smiling at her words.

  “It’s not fucking funny, George. You’re not the one that has to put up with her tantrums and meltdowns of Georgia proportions.”

  I just give a loud yawn. I’ve heard it all before.

  “Jim, you handled me just fine when we were fifteen, I’m sure you can handle her now that you’re a grown arse woman.”

  “Yeah, just like you handle Tallulah.”

  “I handle Lu just fine, and if I can’t, Cam does.”

  “Pfft, she has Cam wrapped around her little finger.”

  “Oh my god, are you two just gonna stand and argue all day?”

  “Shut up.” They tell me in unison.

  “And cover your mouth when you yawn. Did your mother teach you no mann
ers?”

  My mum glares at my aunt, her mouth open in shock at her accusation.

  Giving another huff, I flick my hair over my shoulder, and stomp towards my uncle’s office, swinging the door open without bothering to knock.

  I stop in my tracks as soon as I realise there is someone in there with him.

  Cam is sitting back in his chair, his legs stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankle, and propped on his desk.

  The other person is a man, but I can only see his dark hair and his legs. He has the ankle of one resting on the knee of the other.

  They each have a short rounded glass containing an amber coloured liquid in their hands.

  Cam looks up, wide-eyed with surprise at first and then he gives me a smile.

  “Book, what you doing here?”

  My uncle tells the worst jokes ever. Because my name is Paige, he’s always called me Book, and he seriously thinks he’s funny. He’s not. And even when he is, I’m funnier.

  “All right, Queenie, how are you?” His surname is King, so my play on his name has always been to call him Queenie, which is actually funny, considering the size of the man. He’s big, like really big. Taller than my dad, my pops and my uncles and cousins. He has really wide shoulders, and I suppose you might call him good-looking in an old man kind of way . . . he must have something going for him anyway because my aunt married him, and she is beautiful. So beautiful that she was once married to a famous rock star.

  “Paige, you can’t just barge in there without knocking,” my mum calls from behind me. I turn and roll my eyes at her.

  G is pretty bad arse most of the time, except when she bangs on about being respectful to my mum. My mum has a stick up her arse most of the time though when it comes to manners, not swearing, pronouncing my words properly, knocking on closed doors before entering a room . . .

  I remember that I’ve come to ask my uncle a favour and turn to give him my sweetest, most innocent look, but the man that is sitting in the chair on my side of the desk has turned it to face me.