G-Men: The Series (47 page)

I must’ve debated for an hour as to whether I should creep in to where she was sleeping to check on her. Hell, I knew if I did that I would’ve been hard pressed to leave it at that. I would’ve been tempted to crawl under the sheets with her and fuck her harder than those college dicks could or would.

I was pulling my T-shirt up over my head. “Did you bring your toys?” I asked Roxie.

“Of course,” she said, giving me one of her naughty little smiles. “You know I don’t leave home without them.”

“Let’s get to it then,” I said smiling, pulling Roxie over to stand before me next to the bed. I was going to get this blasted hard-on relieved one way or another.

“There’s one thing you need to know, babe,” I said, as she was slipping out of her tight jeans. She stood there, tall and slender with coal black hair that fell to her waist, looking at me.

“What is it, Taz?”

“I’m going to fuck you. Hard. But I’ll be thinking about someone else when I do. That a problem?”

She shrugged and nodded. I knew she’d be okay with it. I felt she needed to be forewarned though, since I get pretty vocal when I’m fucking a chick. She finished unpacking her leather satchel of toys we used, while I pulled several condom packets out of my nightstand drawer.

Oh yeah. My studies were definitely going to be temporarily delayed this afternoon.

^{chapter 4}

I’d just finished classes for the afternoon and was on my way back to the apartment I shared with two other students when my cell phone rang. It was Mom.

She and Slate had returned from their cruise about a week ago. She’d phoned me right away, telling me how exciting it had been to see all of those Caribbean islands. She followed up by emailing me about a zillion pictures of her trip.

“Hi, Mom,” I answered on my headset.

“Hey, Lindsey, just checking to make sure that you’re still going to be here tomorrow evening, as planned.”

“Yep,” I answered. “I’ll hit the road right after my last class.”

“Great,” she said.

I could almost feel her smiling from the other end. “Your grandparents are traveling to Florida, so they won’t be here with us this Thanksgiving. It will just be the four of us.”

“What about Slate’s mom?”

“No, Katy can’t get away again, what with spending that week here before the wedding. She doesn’t have too many people she can totally depend on to take care of the restaurant.”

“I promise I’ll be there by four o’clock to start helping you with the preparations. I know how crazy you get when you cook for the holidays.”

“Thanks honey. I appreciate it. Bryce is just at that ‘into everything’ stage, so I can surely use your help. Oh, and I think Eric is going to ask Taz to join us for Thanksgiving dinner, so I guess that makes five of us.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. Taz’s family lives out in California somewhere, so he doesn’t get back there often. You don’t have a problem with that, do you?”

“No. Why would you ask that?”

“Well, I know he can be a little rough around the edges, I just wasn’t sure if that would make you uncomfortable.”

“Not at all,” I lied. “Besides that, I’m kind of used to that with Slate.”

“Hey,” she said, laughing, “oh, never mind. I guess you’ve got a point. Listen, I needed to ask if you’ve—”

“No,” I replied, cutting her off, “I haven’t heard a thing from Daddy. You know that I’d tell you if I had, right?”

“I’m sorry, sweetie. I know I continue to ask that question. I guess I’m not totally at ease about all of that, even now. I just wish we knew for sure that we were free of it all.”

The subject of my father was still a very painful one for me. Aside from the brief letter he’d commissioned someone to mail for him after he left the country, there had been nothing. I never would have dreamed he could’ve deserted me that way, without a second thought.

“Hey, I’m pulling into the parking garage at my apartment, so I’m going to lose the signal. I’ll see you late tomorrow afternoon.”

“Okay. Drive carefully.”

I let myself into the apartment.

Darcy was already home, sprawled out on the sofa, getting her daily fix of the Jerry Springer show with a bag of Cheetos resting on her firm, flat belly.

“Hey, Darce,” I greeted, kicking the door to the apartment shut behind me.

My arms were loaded down with my books. The strap on my backpack had broken earlier in the day.

“Hey Linds,” she answered, muting the television. “What the hell happened to your backpack?”

“Strap broke due to heavy load. I bring my textbooks home.”

“Oh, don’t start with me,” she laughed, tossing a Cheeto at me. “Just cause you’ve got that ‘studious’ thing going on 24/7 doesn’t mean the rest of us have to. My backpack is four years old and looks brand new.”

“My point exactly,” I replied, dumping my books on the kitchen table. “Is Jill home?”

“Been here and gone,” she replied from the living room. “I think she went somewhere with Gabe.”

Gabe was Jill’s boyfriend in Charlottesville. She actually had what she referred to as her “real boyfriend” back in her hometown of Seattle.

Jill figured being at opposite sides of the country justified having Gabe while she was on the east coast. The problem was, it appeared as if Jill actually loved them both. That was her triangle to figure out, I guess.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Darcy yelled from the living room. “You’re thinking she’s going to get burned by burning the candle at both ends.”

“No, smarty,” I hollered back, going to the fridge for bottled water, “I’ve decided I don’t judge what people do anymore.”

“Really?” she asked, poking her head into the kitchen. “Why the change in philosophy, may I ask?”

“I don’t know,” I said with a shrug. “I guess the only reason I voiced an opinion on the matter was because someone’s bound to get hurt eventually.”

“And now you don’t believe that?”

“Oh, I absolutely believe that,” I replied. “But I guess one could argue that who goes through life without getting hurt at one time or another? I mean, she’s having the time of her life, right? Maybe at the end of the day, it’ll have all been worth it. Maybe I should be so lucky.”

“Oh shit, there you go. There are so many fucking guys that want to take you out. Your problem is you’re too picky.”

“I just seem to pick the wrong ones,” I said.

“Hey, not to change the subject, but I’m going to Falls Church tomorrow for the holiday weekend. What are your plans?”

Darcy came from a fairly affluent family in Georgetown. Since she was an only child, her parents fell all over themselves to make sure she wanted for nothing.

She was my best friend since coming to Virginia. I knew we’d always be friends, even after college.

“Actually, I’m going home too. I’m skipping my classes tomorrow and leaving when I get up.”

I rolled my eyes at her, shaking my head with a smile.

“Don’t judge me,” she replied grinning. “I’m passing everything.”

“Barely,” I said, laughing. “So, I guess we won’t be driving up together.”

“No, but hey, let’s get together Friday night and go clubbing. Sound good?”

“Yeah, I’m up for that. I just need to make sure I still have my fake I.D.”

Darcy had turned twenty-one in September. She’d put me in contact with one of her male friends who had made an extremely authentic looking fake student I.D. for me.

“Okay, then,” she said, heading back out to the living room to watch the rest of Springer, “I’ll call you Friday to make plans.”

I got through my classes the following day then headed to Falls Church.

I’d packed the night before and loaded my car so that I could leave directly from school. Jill was going to spend Thanksgiving with Gabe in Atlanta. Darcy had left this morning, texting me that she was on the road and would call me Friday.

I made good time and pulled into the driveway before 5:00 p.m.

Slate was right there, as always, being the perfect step-father, hauling my suitcase into the house and upstairs to my room.

Mom was in the kitchen, feeding Bryce some sort of baby food from a jar. Most of it appeared to be smeared on his cheeks. He immediately brightened into a big smile when I came into the room.

“Hi sweetie,” Mom greeted, getting up to give me a hug and kiss. “You look great.”

“You too, Mom. I can’t believe how long your hair’s getting.”

She smiled sheepishly, fingering through her below-the-shoulder length locks.

“Eric forbade me to cut it,” she replied. “He wants it as long as it was when I wore that wig. Do you believe it?”

“Yes,” I said. “That’s Slate.”

“Why do you still call him Slate?”

“Why don’t you call him ‘Slate’ is the better question?”

She shrugged, wiping Bryce’s face clean.

“I don’t know, I guess because the name “Slate” was what I knew him as when I was someone else. I’m not that person, anymore.”

“Maybe so, but Slate’s still that person.”

She looked thoughtful for a moment. I was curious as to why it seemed to be a big deal with her. Was she ashamed of being ‘Diamond’ for that period of time? Maybe I should ask Taz, since he was studying to be a shrink.

Taz, there he was once again in my mind for the hundredth, strike that, for the millionth time since our brief, non-sexual interlude a few weeks back. I had to confess, the thought of seeing him again gave me butterflies.

Bryce was fussing now. Having finished eating, his chubby little hands were gripping his sippy cup while it sounded as if he was smack dab in the middle of squeezing one out.

“Uh oh,” Mom said, her thoughts temporarily interrupted.

“I’ve got this,” I said, unlocking the tray from his high chair so that I could lift him out.

“Come on, big boy,” I cooed to him, planting a wet kiss on his chubby little cheek. “Big sissy’s going to change that nasty diaper.” He gave me a gummy grin, sporting a couple of new teeth.

His bedroom was downstairs, next to the master suite.

I passed Slate on my way in, coming out of the master suite. He was wearing a pair of jeans and a tight black T-shirt that accentuated his muscular physique.

Instantly, a memory of Taz dressed in jeans and a black tee that Sunday morning a few weeks back came to my mind.

“Hey, Lindsey, do you want me to change him?”

“It’s okay. I need some bonding time with my baby brother.”

He chuckled, his dimple making a rare appearance. “I’m not too sure what you’ve signed up for with my little man here could be classified as ‘bonding.’ You’re a good sister, Lindsey.”

He gave me a wink and headed down the hall towards the kitchen where I heard him bellow playfully to Mom, “Come here woman, feed your man.”

I had to smile. I never would’ve thought those two would make a couple. Now I couldn’t imagine Mom with anyone else. They were perfect for each other. He was her lobster, she was his.

I gave a wistful sigh as I placed Bryce on his changing table and prepared myself for some toxic bonding.

Much later, I lay awake in my bed upstairs thinking about seeing Taz the following day. I’d heard Slate on the phone with him earlier in the evening, reminding him what time dinner was planned for the following day.

I flushed crimson when I heard him tell Taz to make sure he utilized proper manners because his sweet, impressionable step-daughter was home from college.

Really, Slate?

I smiled into the pillow that I was hugging close to me now, wishing my arms were wrapped around Taz. I guess this is what a ‘crush’ felt like.

I’d just dozed off into a peaceful slumber when sounds from below awakened me.

They were knocking sounds that got progressively louder, then faster. It took me a few moments to figure out that my room was just above the master suite downstairs.

I so don’t want to hear this!

In the eighteen years that I’d lived under my parents’ roof, I’d not once heard or even suspected that they were having sex.

A few more moments passed and any doubts as to what was happening below me disappeared.

“Oh God, Slate, that’s it, baby. Keep fucking me just like that.”

My mother’s voice had reached a high pitch that was unfamiliar to me.

I felt like an unwilling voyeur, but what choice did I have? Maybe if I put the pillow over my ears…

It was too late.

Just then I heard a succession of moans and whines from my mother, followed by Slate’s masculine groaning. Their sounds seemed to blend together in a much-synchronized, rhythmic, carnal song. It seemed to go on forever.

I was both fascinated and envious, which was disturbing. That was my mother for Chrissake! I didn’t want to think of her as a sexual being, even though I knew how immature that sounded. She probably felt the same way about me.

No need to worry, Mom. I now know what an orgasm sounds like. I have no clue as to what one
feels
like when there’s a man involved. If she knew that, she’d probably find me pathetic.

I smiled when I recalled how she’d called him “Slate” again just now in bed. Could be “Diamond” was back.

^{chapter 5}