19. Jason
After expressing nineteen years of pent-up emotions in the last twenty-four hours, I’ve worn Mandi out.
She didn’t even wake up when I took my first feed for the day. Her tits were so swollen and ready to burst, she soaked me with her milk a few seconds after I started to suckle. Once it started flowing, it wouldn’t stop, and since I could only drink from one breast at a time, the other one doused me until my beard was dripping.
There was something crazy hot about her hosing me down, and something even hotter about spreading her legs and jacking myself at her pretty cunt while she slept. She was beautifully creamed already, but spreading her swollen pussy, sliding my shining slit in line with her juicy fuck-hole, and easing forward until the head of my cock was snug while I shot my load inside her, before she’s even awake? Perfection.
Watching it drip from her glistening pink flesh when I’m done? Icing on the cake.
I’m keeping her basted until we get a positive pregnancy test.
Who am I kidding? After, too. She’ll be lucky if I don’t keep her bound and bred for the rest of her life.
I smile down at her, sleeping with her legs wide and a pillow wedged under her ass, to keep my seed inside her. The view is sublime. I set her breakfast tray aside and check the locked cuffs on her ankles, to make sure they’re not chafing her skin. I’ll let her up after breakfast. Once she’s had some more time percolating.
The doorbell rings, and I check my watch. Vince is early.
I look back at Mandi and lean in to press a kiss to her forehead. “You’ll call my name if you need me,” I whisper at her ear.
Her lips twitch with a vague smile, but she doesn’t rouse. I watch her chest rise and fall a while. Slowly and steadily. She remains peaceful and sound asleep. Her nipples are erect, but I can’t tell if it’s from her dreams, the temperature, or what I just did. Loathe to cover her, I adjust the thermostat, to keep her warm, before I head downstairs.
Vince is facing out to the lake when I open the door, and he turns to me with a huge grin. “The old summer-hangout spot.”
“For you guys,” I say with a snort, as I hug him and clap his back. “That shitty fucking trailer in the woods became my full-time gig after my fucking medical bills cost us the farm. It was easy to lose my way here without you guys around, and I spent too much time pining for escape, until I got myself kicked into gear.”
“Yeah, but there are worse places to live while you’re head-fucked,” Vince says with a shrug — ever the hunter of silver linings. “And you’ve got the nicest place on the lake now, so everything came up roses in the end.”
I look out over the lake and the tree-covered mountains and nod. “True enough. You coming in? Coffee’s fresh.”
“Yeah. Course.” He bends to unlace his giant boots, and glances at the lake again. “Remember that time we borrowed old-man Peters’ boat? When Daryl was clowning around, like he does, and we lost him overboard in the middle of the lake?”
“Sank like a fucking stone.” I shake my head. “Thought he was gone.”
He chuckles and respectfully sets his boots on the shoe rack by the door. “Yeah, but you got him back.”
“And I spent the rest of the summer barking at him in the shallows, until he could swim to my satisfaction.” I rub my head and gesture toward the kitchen. “He fucking hated me for it.”
“He knew it was because you loved him,” Vince says, lumbering ahead of me and making my hallway look small. “So…? Coffee first? Or you want to get right to business?”
I set an oversized mug on the counter for my oversized friend and push the jug of cream toward him, before I reach for the coffeepot. “Both.”
“You sounded pretty serious on the phone.”
“There’s a reason.” I fill his cup with coffee and slide a list of names in front of him. “I need tabs on these people, Mr. Private Investigator. I want to know locations, known associates, what they eat, where they shit, and what they failed to digest. Everything.”
He slides the list closer and reads it before meeting my gaze again. “Any particular reason?”
“I need to visit them.” I give a wry smile. “To… chat.”
Vince’s expression is deadpan. “Uh-huh.” He taps a big finger on the paper. “You need any help when you chat to these people?”
“That wouldn’t be wise.” I push the sugar bowl toward him and cover it with my hand when he goes back for a third teaspoon.
He rolls his eyes at me. “I’m a grown-ass man, Jase.”
“You are. A grown ass man with a sweet tooth and a predisposition for diabetes,” I counter. “Make better choices.”
He mutters something under his breath and stirs his coffee. “Why the hit list?”
I stroke my beard, and then pour myself a coffee, too. “Finally found out why Mandi left me.”
Vince stops stirring. He glances at the left side of my chest and then meets my gaze. “Am I allowed to know?”
He never met her. He and the guys stopped me going fucking nuclear when I lost her, but they barely knew more than her name back then, and I haven’t talked about her since, beyond admitting she was the woman I fell for and would never recover from.
“Her parents had people abduct her in the night and sent her to some remote home for rich girls who get knocked up by bad men from the wrong side of town,” I say, failing to keep the seething tone from my voice. “They kept her there. Shamed her. Stole our baby. Gave him to God-knows-whom, to raise. Brainwashed her. Broke her. Drove her to drink and worse.”
Vince spreads his hands on the counter’s surface, and his skin blanches with the pressure he’s using to keep them there. He wants to crack some skulls as badly as I do.
“I don’t need your help with the fun part.” I inform him with a tight smile. “Thank you.” I take a sip of my black brew. “But I will need your help to track down our son. He’ll be grown by now.”
My mind wanders again to what he may look like. Is he good at sports? Is he a good man? A kind man?
I look at the list of names, and then at Vince. “Just get me as much information as you can.”
“I should help you shake down some of these people,” he says. “I’ll ask different questions. Get a better picture to work with, before it’s too late, so he’s not lost forever.”
Damn him for phrasing it in a way I can’t refuse. “I’ll think about it.”
“You do that.” He’s already scrolling on his phone. “I’ll start finding leverage you can use, to extract the information you need,” he says. “Before you go all… Jason on their asses.”
I scowl. “Don’t use my name like that.”
“Jason?” Mandi calls from upstairs.
Vince folds his arms, leans back, and grins. “Should I use it like that, instead?” He clutches his hands under his chin and bats his lashes at me.
“Fuck you,” I mutter, backing away. “Drink your coffee and start making notes, while I get my woman presentable for company. You can share any on-topic thoughts with us both when we come down.”