Late

Wooo, a double entry, we all know how i love that!

Anywayz, because my reader, the incomparable Yelling Pigeon, has already guessed as much, I figured I'd post this next vignette to validate her wonderful imagination for plot and scandal!

I had it written and she was all over it already! Maybe i'd better try harder to shock and subvert?!?!?

Anyway, this takes place just a little bit BEFORE the Sick Day.  It is a little... um... revelatory about Vaughan Grey and Velvet's little side relationship...

Enjoy ;)

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Velvet was late. 

She was so busy being a young mother of four that she hadn’t been paying attention and she hadn’t been careful.

Now she was staring at the kitchen calendar with some distress, flipping back a month, flipping back another.

Shit.

With a measure of panic she tried to remember the date of her last ‘appointment’ with Vaughan.

Oh, God damn it.

She felt a heavy stone crash to the floor of her middle, and her heartbeat just about quadrupled.  Her mouth went dry and her eyes welled up.

Please, God, no.  Please.

She closed her eyes and tried desperately not to fly into hysterics.  Breathe.  Think.  Breathe.  With grim determination she opened her eyes once more and studied the calendar once again, as if willing it so might change the awful fact that she hadn’t bled since the last time she’d fucked her ex-husband.

“What’s the matter, Love?” 

She jumped a mile at the warm kiss atop the back of her head, the long arms wrapping around her from behind, and the sweet intimate murmur of Jonah’s voice against her skull.

“Oooh.  Sorry.”  He chuckled softly.  “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

Velvet swallowed and placed a shaking hand over her heart—it was pounding so hard she was suddenly afraid he might just hear it and get suspicious.  “You snuck up on me.”  She gushed in a feathery voice, hoping she sounded like her adorable self despite feeling anything but.

She felt like a whore, and a lunatic, and a criminal, and a victim, and a frightened little girl all at once.

“Sorry Sweetheart.”  He murmured again, squeezing a little tighter, pulling her small, delicate body against his and nuzzling affectionately into her hair.  “Mmmm.”  He sighed, cozy and warm.  “Everyone’s in bed—finally—and maybe, if we’re very lucky—“  He chuckled almost giddily, “Maybe they’re actually asleep by now too.”

She let out a soft little laugh.  “Wishful thinking, Mr. Delaney.”  She cooed, spinning in his embrace and going up on tiptoe for a kiss.  He kissed her sweetly, with just an edge of something hungry and needy.

What was she going to do?  She could hardly think straight.  She’d been ill that morning, and the morning before, and, come to think of it, the morning before that!  But she’d ignored it because the flu was going around.  Grey’d stayed home from school with it last week.  She’d figured she would come down with it, and so the vomiting, the upset stomach, the aches, and the dragging exhaustion all seemed par for the course.

Ugh.  Golf metaphors?

“Hey.”  Jonah said, pulling back from the kiss and peering at her.  “Where are you?”  His voice was all gentle concern.  He ran two knuckles down the side of her face lightly and searched her visage as if he might be able to divine her troubling secrets.

She nuzzled into his hand and did her best to smile sweetly.  “I don’t know what we’re going to do about those twins.”  She supplied immediately.  She was very good at lying to her husband.  She hated doing it, but she had to do it, and so, she reasoned that she’d better learn to do it well.  She lived to make Jonah happy; to make him as happy as he made her every day.  He was a good man.  The best man she’d ever met. 

He didn’t deserve a wife that fucked around on him with her sonofabitch ex-husband twice a year at his fucking command.  Her frown deepened and Jonah looked genuinely sympathetic.

“Did they give you trouble at nap time again?”  He asked, moving his hands to gently massage the tension from her bird-like shoulders.  She closed her eyes and enjoyed how large and strong—and yet how gentle—his hands felt on her petite frame.

She nodded.  “They just play and sing and gab away at eachother up there.”  She sighed, moaning just a little at how good his ministrations felt.  He knew just how to massage her.  He was the best husband in the world.

“And we’re done trying to put them in separate rooms?”  He asked carefully.  It was the solution that made the most sense from a purely academic perspective.

“Jonah, you’re not here in the day, you don’t know what it’s like.”  She snapped with a fierce pout.

He promptly kissed that pout, eliciting a begrudging giggle from her.

He pulled back and grinned down at her.  “I know it Angel.”  He assured her.  “I get the picture well enough from the weekend days.  They scream bloody murder at me if I even try to put them down in separate bedrooms.” 

She was glad the topic had so distracted him from her fretting over the calendar.  She wished it could be so easy to forget the dilemma herself.  “I don’t know why they can manage to fall asleep in the same room at night.”  Velvet wondered aloud for what felt like the hundredth time.  This little drama had been plaguing the Delaney household for weeks and weeks now.

“Maybe because it’s so dark.”  Jonah posited, abandoning the massage and pulling his wife in for a hearty bear hug.  “I read them four stories tonight.”  He informed her, trailing his fingers up and down her back slowly and soothingly.  “After that I went in to Ava’s room and she wanted just the one, you know, the one with the princess and the suitors?  But I had to re-read it over twice more.”  He laughed softly.  “I wouldn’t be heartbroken if that damn book got lost somewhere…”

Velvet giggled on cue, but she was only half listening.  If she was…she didn’t even want to think the word, that’s how terrified she was.  But if she was…you know, then it wasn’t necessarily Vaughan’s.  She and Jonah had a pretty active sex life for a couple of exhausted young parents with four small children.  It could definitely be Jonah’s.  It was possible.

But what if it wasn’t? 

She worried her lip and buried her face in his chest, wishing she could hide from this and make it all disappear.

“And then Grey and I got to chapter fifteen in our story—“ He was saying, sounding very pleased and a little proud.  “And he actually looked disappointed when I said we’d need to stop for the night.”  Jonah laughed once and sighed a little.  “Not bad for a book he called ‘stupid’ and ‘boring’ when I first suggested it.”

She murmured some positive response and focused on counting the steady, calm, reliable beats of Jonah’s good heart. 

She should have fought Vaughan harder last time.  When he’d told her he wanted to do bondage.  She should have been more assertive.  More adamant.  Instead she’d capitulated, like she always did when it came to Vaughan, and she’d let him tie her up.  Let him strap her to the bed.

Undeniably it had been hot.  It had been beyond sexy.  She’d felt like a character in a sexy novel; she’d felt scared and aroused and vulnerable and in danger and so turned on she was sure she must have been positively dripping with anticipation and arousal by the time he finally put himself inside her. 

He’d taken his time with the foreplay.  And he’d blindfolded her for some of it.  She’d almost fainted from the terror—he could be a frightening man, her ex-husband, and he’d played a very scary game with scissors. When she got home she told Jonah she’d just decided she wanted a haircut.  She’d cried about the new short length of it for hours after it was done.  She’d cried and Vaughan had smoked his cigar and when she’d finally stopped sobbing he’d made her suck him off so he could run his fingers through the newly shortened tresses while she did it.

And while she was tied up she’d had no say over him—over the contraception.  He’d taken out her diaphragm.  She’d begged him to put it back and he’d laughed at her.  He promised he’d pull out—said he wanted to cover her in his come.  The titillation of knowing her diaphragm was not in place had made her all the more aroused, despite her common sense screaming at her to stop him at all costs.

So she’d stopped her struggling and chosen to believe him. 

And he distracted her with foreplay that just about melted the wall paper from the hotel walls. 

She was ashamed of it, thinking of it now, in Jonah’s loving arms, but she had begged Vaughan, actually begged him to put his cock in her, he’d made her want him so much.

She hated him for that.  For being able to do that to her.  Hated herself for being weak and stupid and awful.

And he had finally slammed into her, and he’d fucked her hard, like a whore gets fucked, and she’d loved it.  Loved being bound and blindfolded and at his mercy. 

And he’d brought her close, so close to the release she desperately needed, and he was close too, and then he’d leaned down and snarled: “I lied Princess—I’m gunna fill you up—and there’s not a goddamn thing you can do about it.”

She’d screamed then, and struggled against the ties binding her, bucked wildly against him, tried in vain to throw him off her, make him slip out, and he’d just chuckled and thrust harder, deeper, more crushingly into her.  He’d smothered her screams with his broad, rough hand and fucked her like an animal in rut; indistinguishable from a monster but for the deliberate, controlled expression in his terrifyingly cold, dark eyes.

He’d liked the struggle.  Urged her on.  Taunted her so that she’d fight harder.  He’d liked the way she’d clenched around him, tried to squeeze herself closed against him, and thrown her body into wild contortions trying to be free of him.  He’d licked the tears off her face as he pounded into her.  When she bit his hand like a little hell cat he’d slapped her hard and replaced it before she’d even had time to react; he’d been unfazed and probably more aroused than ever.

She realized later that she should have gone limp to spite him, gone corpse-like to deflate his arousal.  But in the heat of the moment she’d panicked—just like he knew she would—and she’d fought like a hellion to wriggle free.

And then he’d come.  Hard and long and gloriously.  Come deep inside her.

And she’d wept beneath him.  Wept bitterly while he remained within her, running his hands possessively over her body, putting his mouth wherever he pleased while he waited for his tumescence to recede all the way.  She’d cursed him and railed at him between sobs and told him how much she hated him.

He’d grinned, forced his mouth on hers until she was short of breath and sure she’d die, and then he’d pulled out of her, pulled a robe on over his nakedness, and left the room without a word.

Left her there.  With his filth stewing inside her. Left her tied up, and naked, and used, on the bed while he went to do whatever the fuck he’d felt like.

She was sure she’d suffered a panic attack there, alone, not knowing when or if he’d be coming back to let her lose.  She’d rather have killed herself than let some hotel worker find her in such a position.

She wasn’t able to see a clock, and at some point she’d finally dozed off, and when he came back the room was pitch black.

He’d woken her by pouring the contents of an ice bucket all over her.

She’d screamed and he’d stuffed a rolled-up pair of socks in her mouth.

Then he’d gone down on her. 

And Vaughan Grey didn’t simply go down on a woman.  He ravaged her with his fingers and tongue and lips and teeth.  He fucked her with his mouth until she was coming, quite against her will.  Coming, wave after wave after blessed wave of release—cresting in pleasure, and laced with bitter, angry regret.

He made her come, there in the pitch black, shivering and humiliated and at the mercy of a man she loathed.  He made her come in the way only Vaughan Grey could—that way that made her feel completely owned by him and bound to him forever.

Then he’d showered, again leaving her there, cold and unable to escape the pervading dampness of the melted ice cubes on and around her.  Left her trembling and moaning and whimpering and begging simultaneously for more and for him to leave her the fuck alone.

When he came back he brought her to another climax with just his fingers while he lazily smoked a cigar.  She still got a little wet thinking about laying bound in that dark hotel room, watching that red-orange ember on the end of his cigar blaze and then dim, flare and then fade while her stroked her steadily toward babbling madness and then to ecstasy.  Still felt tingles all over when she remembered how after she’d come back to earth he’d sucked in on the cigar, long and deep, and then exhaled all of it onto her slick, throbbing sex.

Eventually he’d untied her.  Mocked her by thanking her for a lovely evening.  ‘We’ll have to do it again sometime.’  He’d said with that rancid smirk of his, and she’d wanted to lunge at him, throw herself on him and kick, and bite, and scratch, but he’d quelled her preemptively by reminding her that she’d need to go home to her husband looking fresh as a daisy. ‘It’ll be hard enough explaining the haircut, Sugar, you don’t want to have to try and talk your way around a black eye too.’

So she’d pulled herself up and off the bed with as much dignity and poise as she could muster and she’d carried herself to the hotel bathroom, trying not to look at the hanks of her beautiful hair laying cast-off on the floor.  And she’d showered.  Showered and scrubbed and practically scalded herself in an effort to wash herself clean of what he’d done.  She’d pissed in the shower and hoped the urine would kill any chance of conception—she’d heard that it would—and she reached inside herself and tried to clean out residue that might remain of him.  She’d sobbed the whole time.

“Love?” 

Presently Jonah was looking downright stern.  He’d been trying to get her attention and she’d been lost in those terrible thoughts.

“I’m so tired.”  She confessed meekly.

His stern expression melted into a kind, sympathetic one.  “Of course you are, Angel.”  He said in a soft, smooth voice.  “It’s been a long week.”  He gathered up her small hands in his large ones and brought them to his lips.  “I’m home now though, and you can let me do all the work.”  He smiled at her happily.  “I love weekends with you.”  He told her genuinely.  “I love to make sure you put your feet up and get a little bit pampered.”

She smiled weakly.  “Take me to bed?”

He blinked, momentarily surprised.  “It’s still early.”

“I didn’t mean it was time to sleep.”  She said in a silky tone she only really half-felt.

His eyebrows lifted.  “Ah.”  He said and nodded thoughtfully.  “In that case, love, let’s get you to bed, shall we?”

He slipped her right hand into his left and shut off the kitchen light as they went.  She’d think about this tomorrow.  She’d think about it when he was busy being the perfect father to their perfect little family. 

She knew she had to figure out a way to rid her body of what she was sure was Vaughan Grey’s sordid poison. 

And do it before Jonah ever suspected she was…anything other than completely his.

The Calder-Grey Celebration

Tonight is opening night of A1S1!! But in order to get to that we need to survive the extended morning rehearsal and also an early call to run it one more time before show time. Oh yeah. It has been one of those years. It is a bit, just a bit, of a shitshow this week.

But, even though my group isn't the best (and I really am trying to be OK with this, trying not to feel competitive about this, trying to not boil over about it), so even though they aren't the best, they have done some great work, they have come leaps and bounds, and I do believe that I will be bursting with pride by the curtain call this evening. I'm already very proud of what they've done.

I still kinda wish we were the best. knock-your-socks-off good, you know? whatevs.

K, so: you've seen it one way (in two parts), and you've seen it another, now here's a look at that infamous party from our very own Mr. Jonah Delaney-- young and starry eyed and in the right\wrong place at the right\wrong time.

Also you get kinda introduced to some other characters- ooooh, exciting!

Now i know I've said this before but for some reason with this one I really must reiterate that all the cedar falls shorts (as D calls them, making them sound very art-house and legit! lol), are far from perfect. I like so much of this one but recognize that it needs some serious revision. HOWEVER! I've been sitting on it for like weeks and weeks and really just want to get it out there already!!

I hope you like the parts i like and just brush over the rough stuff.

Oh, and wish me "break a leg"!!

PS- there was a big mistake in the one i posted a minute ago, so if you still have that in an email or whatever, disregard and read the one /i'm posting now.  just a continuity mistake, but it would have fucked me in the asshole for one of the next things I'm going to post so.... yeah.

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There were so many people, so many attendees, Jonah wondered why they hadn’t held the reception at the pavillion instead of at the house.  Looking around he guessed the legendary Vaughan Grey had wanted to showcase his designer home, wanted his guests to see the many awards and magazine covers and trophies and framed photographs, wanted them to marvel at his expensive furnishings and rare collectibles and exotic memorabilia.  Jonah decided the man who lived here must be one arrogant, conceited, egotistical, ass.

With a shrug he accepted a glass of wine from a pretty young cater-waitress carrying a tray of sparkling wines.  He recognized the logo on her shirt.  “Hey, Hi, Nolan working?”  He asked her with a warm smile.  She returned the smile in a way that told Jonah this girl had a crush on his brother. 

“Yeah, he’s here…”  She glanced around hopelessly.  She was too short to see much in the crush of guests.  “Somewhere!”  She said with a laugh.

He laughed with her.  He was much taller than she was so he scanned the crowd, able to see above most people’s heads.  “Thanks—I’m sure I’ll find him sooner or later.”  He said.

“Yeah, He’s got Reds I think.”  She said helpfully.  “If you find him, tell him I said ‘Hi’!” and then with a sweet smile moved away, offering her drinks to other guests.

Jonah chuckled.  He’d be sure and do that.  She seemed sweet.  Scanning the crowd his eyes fell upon a familiar pair of faces at the far end of the room, just by the open French doors that led to the back patio.  Her face looked pleasant, if a bit strained, and his?  His face was a glowering, irritable grimace.  Jonah laughed to himself and tossed back some of his wine before navigating his way politely through the throng toward his parents.

He saw several co-workers and nodded warmly, sometimes stopped to exchange a few words, he saw the superintendant but couldn’t get close enough to do more than smile and wave, and finally he made his way to his mother’s side.  She was in the middle of a conversation about a charity auction that was being planned for the fall at the historic society.  When she saw him her eyes crinkled at the corners in acknowledgement, but she didn’t interrupt her dialogue with Mrs. Eisen.

He would wait.  Instead he turned to his father and smiled winningly at the man’s obvious discomfort.  “Hi Pops.”  He said, patting his father soundly on the back.

“Jonah.”  Nodded his father in a grim greeting.

“You look like you’re having a blast.”  Jonah tried not to smile quite so largely but he wasn’t managing too well.  It was always thoroughly entertaining to see his normally mild-mannered father so uptight and surly.  The man hated crowds and social events, but his wife, well, his wife was a social creature by nature and he endured these events to please her. 

“I met the groom.”  He said, looking for all the world as thought caused a sour taste in his mouth.

Jonah glanced around.  He’d not had the pleasure of meeting his host or the young Calder bride yet.  He’d seen them both around town, knew who they were, but hadn’t met them today.  “Nice fellow?”  Jonah asked wryly, catching sight of a life-sized framed poster of the man in full swing on the green.  He rolled his eyes.  He didn’t need to meet the man to know he wouldn’t care for him.

“A prince.”  Said his father dourly.  “More bourbon in his veins than blood I think.”  He confided in a low voice.

Jonah chuckled.  His mother was kissing Mrs. Eisen on the cheek and promising to call with ‘that information’ sometime tomorrow.  Jonah nodded politely to Mrs. Eisen as she departed and then turned to his mother.  She cocked her head and smiled at him.  “What in hell are you doing at a thing like this?”  she asked with a laugh. 

He grinned and placed a kiss on her cheek.  “You look lovely Ma.”  He said affectionately.

She shook her head.  “No, no, no, flattery will get you nowhere.”  She placed one hand gracefully on her hip and with the other she took a sip of dark wine.  “What made you decide to come?”

He looked around at the crowd.  He didn’t want to tell her the real reason.  “Nolan’s here.”  He offered.

She raised a skeptical brow and opened her mouth to retort but her husband cut her off “Oh leave the boy alone Evelyn, he’s here for the same reason all the rest of these fools are here.”  He lifted a highball glass to his lips and took a mouthful of whatever mixed drink he’d procured.

She sent her husband a rather chilly look before fixing her gaze back on her son.  “Is that why you’re here?”  She asked archly, “To see and be seen?”

He chuckled.  “Maybe.”  He said evasively.  Really he was in attendance in the hopes of meeting someone.  He hadn’t been on a date in months and Nolan had been urging him to get back in the saddle, to play the field again.

“Nobody can see anybody in this crush.”  Said his father grumpily.

“We’re not staying too much longer.”  His mother sighed.  “I just want to see Mrs. Calder before we go, thank her for the invite.”

“Sebastian Calder must be spinning in his grave.”  Jonah’s father commented dourly.

Jonah laughed, but his mother looked stern.  “Ethan Delaney, don’t pretend for a second that Sebastian Calder was some kind of upright saint.”  She hissed.  “He gave that woman years of nothing but infidelity and in the end he died in the arms of a whore, so I don’t think he’d have a leg to stand on here.”

Jonah was surprised by his mother’s sudden vehemence.  Outwardly she remained composed and graceful but the heat that sizzled under her fierce whisper took him aback.

“The man’s sins aside, Evelyn, no father wants to see his teenage daughter married off to some middle-aged lothario.”

She tisked.  “I think he’d rather see her married than become an unwed teen mother, don’t you?”

Jonah groaned.  “Mr. and Mrs. Delaney, please!”  He smiled at them.  They bickered; it’s what they did.  Jonah knew they loved eachother very much but knew they weren’t happy unless they were arguing about something or other.  Usually one of them would play the devil’s advocate on some issue just to drum up conflict.  It was their peculiar little hobby and it was mostly harmless, but with so many ears around…

“I’m just glad I don’t have daughters, with that jackal prowling around town.” Groused his father.

“Ethan!  Don’t stand there drinking the man’s liquor and backbiting, for God’s sake, he’s our host!”

Jonah smiled an over-large smile.  “Have a good time you two.”  He enthused.  “If I don’t see you before I leave, I’ll be over for Sunday dinner as usual.”  He delivered another peck to his mother’s cheek, clasped his father’s hand in a brief shake and set off toward the less-cramped but very hot and sunny back yard.

He didn’t see Nolan anywhere.  He met up with the Bennett brothers for a short time, Sam had his eye on some pretty young thing and Marty was enjoying the mingling.  Then he chatted with their sister Grace for a while—they’d dated in high school and were still able to chat like old friends.  She was married to Holden Sinclair now, who she said was in attendance but who the hell knew where?  She looked contented and radiant; and almost ready to pop—her due date was less than a month away. 

He was a little in awe of how many important Cedar Falls families and politicians and business people were in attendance.  But, he supposed the sole heiress to the Calder fortune was a bit of a celebrity around these parts, and so, he supposed, was the play-boy golf pro she had married.

After a while he decided he’d probably burn terribly if he stayed out in the sun too long and with some reservations he headed back toward the cool of the house.  He mingled with old friends from school, chatted with bigwigs from the central schools office, and flirted with one or two nice-looking girls, but he wasn’t having a terribly great time.  And he still hadn’t found Nolan.  Where the hell was his brother?  He’d seen about a dozen other cater-waiters, from various vendors, even a few from the winery, but he’d yet to spot Nolan among the crowd.

He decided to make one complete sweep of the house before giving up and getting the hell out of there.  He hadn’t met anyone that he’d been overly attracted to, and while he realized he might have a shot with one or two ladies here, he didn’t feel all that inclined to put out the effort.  He was trying, but he didn’t think he was all that ready to be playing the field again.

He settled on a trickle-down plan of attack.  He’d start on the top floor, where he’d heard there was a sundeck, and work his way back down.

Jonah kept his eyes peeled on his way up, but by the time he was mounting the stairs to the third floor he still hadn’t seen any sign of his brother.  He’d seen Nolan’s good friend Len across a large, crowded room and waved enthusiastically, but he didn’t bother trying to cross the sea of mingling guests to get to him.  Maybe he’d catch him on the way down.

The minute he stepped onto the third floor landing Jonah got an uneasy feeling across the back of his neck.  The atmosphere up here was different, somehow, and his gut reacted to it instinctively.  The tone in people’s voices was different.  There seemed to be more couples kissing and groping and fondling up here.  He felt forcibly reminded of a college frat house party, but something felt more slick, even, more deliberate and sinister about the air up here.

This was supposed to be a wedding reception—what the hell was going on up here?  It was the middle of the day, for God's sake. 

He almost turned around.  He hoped he wouldn’t find Nolan up here, hoped he didn’t stumble upon his brother embroiled in some steamy orgy.  Not that he’d begrudge his brother the action, he just didn’t need to see it. 

He moved quietly, almost crept, through a very large and impressive master bedroom suite, toward the sound of voices and laughter and the light of the sundeck.  He wouldn’t stay long, he didn’t feel comfortable up here, he’d just take a look and see if Nolan had been stationed up here.  He felt as if he were trespassing in the penthouse or something, like he’d sneaked onto the bunny ranch without credentials.

There was low murmuring and deep, provocative laughter.  If Jonah were an animal he believed his hackles might be up.  He stalked carefully over to the wide open French doors and observed the salacious glances some folks were casting to their left, watched the avid interest of others who didn’t bother concealing their open fascination.  The men and women up here wore the same expressions he’d seen on men in a strip club—appraising, slightly aroused, captivated, hungry—all under the guise of being perfectly neutral and blasé about it. 

He inched out onto the sundeck, slowly scanning the dozen or more faces and feeling very relieved that his brother was not among them.  And, taking a breath, he made the decision to see whatever it was that was so captivating to these people.  He noted the Deputy Superintendant of Schools among the crowd and frowned.  He saw a few other familiar faces and felt even more uncomfortable.

And finally he turned his head in the direction of the hot-tub.  Jonah felt an outbreak of tiny hot and cold pinpricks from head to toe.  He felt embarrassed, ashamed, and had trouble looking at the spectacle.  There were two people performing very graphic carnal acts in the swirling water, completely nude and unconcerned with the lookers on; no, Jonah thought, not unconcerned; they were enjoying the audience.

After blinking and staring at the deck floor for a few moments he made himself look again, see who they were.  He knew he’d be asked later and knew he’d have to give details to his friends when they heard about this insanity.  This wouldn’t have happened at the pavilion, Jonah thought wryly.

He was looking at the man’s nondescript back and bare ass but when he moved his head down to capture the woman’s nipple in his mouth Jonah’s jaw fell open.  He recognized the son of a bitch from all the framed photographs and magazine covers below.  This was their host, this was the man of the hour, this was Vaughan Grey, husband, and father-to-be.

Jonah snorted in disbelief.  Then he craned his neck to have a better look at the female;  maybe his gut instinct was wrong, maybe Vaughan Grey was up here fucking his new bride for all to see, maybe the young heiress was an exhibitionist and got-off on fucking her much-older husband in broad daylight before an audience of Cedar Falls socialites.

He felt like a pervert, straining for a better view and he knew he was flushing from his scalp to his toes, but he just had to know.  He saw dark hair and knew the heiress to have dark hair, he saw a lot of flesh and heard a great deal of throaty moaning and whimpering and he was distinctly disturbed to notice a man beside him begin to rub himself through his dress pants.  Holy God, Jonah just wanted to answer the question of who that woman was in the hottub and get the hell out of there.

He moved further onto the deck and caught sight of Holden Sinclair nuzzling a young woman who was not Grace and looked away sharply.  He didn’t want to see this side of Cedar Falls, didn’t want to know it.  He was damn glad Nolan wasn’t up here.  And he hoped his parents had left long ago.

Suddenly the woman lifted her head and seemed to look right at Jonah.  Her silver-gray eyes seemed to cut right into him and he was breathless for a moment.  Sopping wet and getting vigorously fucked she still seemed perfectly stunning and not the least bit ruffled.  She was amazing and he felt a heat slide down his front as she looked at him.  She dragged her tongue over her top lip and he shuddered.  She laughed throatily and threw her head back once more, enjoying the rhythm with which her partner was moving into her, and Jonah felt cold all over.

This was an heiress alright, but not the right heiress.  That bastard was fucking another woman at his goddamned wedding celebration, and not even bothering with the slightest discretion.  Feeling almost nauseated Jonah moved quickly and determinedly for the exit.  Fuck finding Nolan, he was leaving and he’d catch up with his brother later.  He didn’t want to be at that residence a minute longer than he had to be.

He pushed past a man he knew from the gym and squeezed past two wealthy cougars who boldly pawed and pulled at him.  He was shivering despite the heat of the summer sun and making all haste to get to the landing when he nearly bowled over a petite little thing on her way toward the sundeck.

They had a moment of trying to step around one another where he’d move to his left but she’d move the same way, and then they’d both move to the other side.  After several attempts the young woman giggled lightly and the sound helped to dispel Jonah’s chill.  He finally stopped his politely awkward missteps and looked at her fully.  She was beautiful.  She was smiling up at him, impossibly large pale green eyes framed by long dark lashes above high pink cheeks and the sweetest cupid’s bow mouth he’d ever seen.  She had dark hair swept over her flawless alabaster forehead and behind her slight shoulders. 

She was perfect.  And she was heavily pregnant.  And his mouth fell open with the realization of who she must be.

“Excuse me!”  The young woman said, laughing a little. 

“Mrs. Grey—“  Jonah began, his heart thudding in his ears.

She smiled and looked ready to make an introduction but then a sound caught her ears and the smile faded.  It was an intimate, erotic sound and there was no mistaking it really.  The woman on the sundeck was beginning the slow wind-up toward orgasm and she wasn’t shy about letting everyone know it.  Jonah’s ears burned and the back of his neck was tingling discomfitingly. 

“Will you excuse me?”  She said softly, her face transforming from carefree and joyful to one of concern and a sort of disbelieving dread. 

He stepped in front of her again and she looked startled and a shade irritated.  “Mrs. Grey, won’t you come with me downstairs?”

She spared him half a glance and moved to get around him in the other direction.  “Excuse me.”  She said again, her voice vague and thin.

Jonah didn’t know where the impulse came from but he knew he needed to stop her, prevent her from seeing what her husband was doing to her.  He took a few steps backward and moved into her path again.  She pulled up short and wore an expression of dismay.  With one small hand she held her very round belly and with the other she fingered an attractive diamond necklace at her throat.  “What’s going on out there?”  She asked him, a nervous whine entering her tone.

Jonah looked at her.  She was still so young.  So innocent.  He wanted to whisk her away from the seedy scene behind him on the sundeck, felt the strongest urge to save her from the awful, sordid truth out there.  But before he could speak they both heard her husband’s voice urging his lover toward climax and grunting.  The murmuring of the small, watching crowd became more fevered, and the young heiress’ face pulled into one of near-terror and she shook her head but moved around Jonah, as if compelled by some divine force, and onto the sundeck. 

He hadn’t the power to stop her, he’d tried but she was determined to see for herself, to witness the act of betrayal she’d already guessed at.  The crowd parted for her soundlessly, not a word of warning to her or to the pair in the hot tub.  Jonah hesitated a moment on the threshold of those double doors, debated with himself as to whether or not he should get mixed up in what was about to go down, but then the girl screamed, and the sound clenched around his heart like a fist, and the decision was no longer his to make.

He flew to her side as she raged at her husband.  He wanted to be there, beside her, though he knew it wasn’t really his place.  He glanced around at their audience and recognized that this girl didn’t have a single friend up there.  Except for him.  He would be in her corner.

The bastard in the hot tub didn’t have the decency to look embarrassed, or even apologetic.  On the contrary, he looked put-out that he’d been interrupted.  Jonah wanted to punch the filthy son of a bitch. 

The man exchanged some words with his young wife and seemed entirely unconcerned with her fury and humiliation as he stepped, completely nude, from the hottub.  The man was vile.  Jonah watched with disgust as he reached to help the silver eyed seductress out of the hot-tub, apologizing to her, but not his wife.  And then suddenly the petite little thing was lunging for the Golf-pro. 

Jonah was momentarily stunned.  She threw herself on him with everything she had, she bit, she clawed, she kicked and slapped and Jonah had to force himself to move through his stunned immobility.  He was sure he pulled her off the man not a second too soon.  Vaughan Grey looked like a man who might not hesitate to throw a pregnant woman to the ground.

Jonah held her, supported her weight as she sank to her knees before the hot tub.  She screamed and swore and made dire threats and she was sobbing and gasping for air and she was in such misery, such torment.  Jonah wanted nothing more than to wrap her up in his arms and make it all go away.  He had a powerful urge to defend the young woman’s honor by attacking the man himself, but she was so hysterical he feared she might do harm to herself or the baby should he let her go.

So he held her. 

He held her when her husband leaned down and spoke cruelly to her, held her when all the sycophants vacated the sundeck, following their perverse piper.  He held her and soothed her and rubbed her back and let her weep into his chest. 

He was already in love with her.

The Silver heiress had said something, before she’d sauntered off the deck, something that made Jonah very worried.  He stroked the young Mrs. Grey’s hair, and her back, and looked with some concern at the very large stomach between them.  She might miscarry, or she might go into premature labor.  She was practically choking on her sobs now, her body wracked with grief and anguish.  He needed her to calm down as soon as humanly possible.

He murmured all kinds of sweet things to her.  Told her how beautiful she was, how she deserved better.  He told her that her husband was the world’s biggest fool to look at any other creature.  He told her she would be alright.  That she was perfect.  An angel.  He had the feeling that she wasn’t hearing any of it, not really, but he hoped the sentiment was helping to pacify and calm her.  He promised he would help her and protect her and make sure that bastard never hurt her again.

When her sobs subsided to a weak blubbering he made his voice a little more firm:

“C’mon. Let’s get you out of here.”  He told her.

She finally looked at him then, lifted her enormous green eyes to his and really saw him for the first time.  She appeared fascinated and he smiled warmly, assuring her with his eyes that she was in safe hands, that she could trust him.

She smiled back for a beat before a wave of panic washed over her features and her body convulsed forcefully and she vomited all over him.  There was a moment, a split second where he understood what was about to happen, but, not wanting to break his contact with her he had no choice but to brace for impact and allow her to be sick all down his front.  He made himself breathe through his mouth and endure wave after wave of retching.  He held her long, silky chestnut tresses away from the mess and tried to pat her back reassuringly.

When she had finished, her body weak and shaking, her face streaked with tears and twisted in mortification, she parted her lips and tried to speak but had only a raspy whisper left.

He smiled at her.  “Hello.  I’m Jonah—“ he told her, trying to make her smile.  “I’m not sure we’ve met.”

It worked.  She smiled.  The sight of her smile, the way she met his eyes and gazed so deeply into him, he knew he’d be hers as long as she wanted him.  He was in love.

Jonah sat at the desk in his study... (PT 2)

Hey, be sure to read yesterday's entry, as it is the first half of this hefty vignette.

i like this one because we get a glimpse into Grey's relationship with Viola, and also a ghost from the past, and also what kind of man Grey is becoming--or is down deep-- despite the events of the first half of this vignette. or maybe, is it the man he COULD be? hmmm. we shall see. I suppose. The thing I like about Grey is that there are always flashes, despite how hard he tries to be one way, the other side always seems to break through in bits and bursts, here and there.

I've just been up writing a goddamn script for the fucking ant and the grasshopper fable, and i would much rther have been writing some salacious sex scene or something.  Lol.  this year, act One Scene 1 proudly presents:  Selections from Cedar Falls!  

Oh hilarity.

*************

“You’re such a wise ass.”  Jonah said, shaking his head.  He took a breath, hitched his own bright smile into place and opened the door, calling:  “Don’t send the search party, I’m in here!”

“Daddy!”  Cried his youngest, running through the livingroom to pounce on him and squeeze him in a fierce hug.

“Ooof!”  He laughed at the impact and then spun her around while squeezing her back even more tightly until she shrieked.  “How was gymnastics?”  He asked after giving her a kiss and setting her feet back on the floor.

“Grey!”  She exclaimed, and ran to her older brother with the same nine-year-old verve.

“Hey freak.”  Grey responded with a smile, and opened his arms for the hug.

Velvet came around the corner from the foyer.  “There you are!”  She said with a smile.  “Did you hear us come in? I didn’t know—Oh! Grey!”  Velvet’s face lit up like Christmas.  Jonah laughed a little at her enthusiasm.  She acted, every time she saw the boy, as if he went to boarding school in Switzerland instead of at a campus just on the outskirts of town.

“Hey Mum.”  Grey greeted warmly and walked toward is mother with exaggerated slowness, as there was a little sister wrapped around his left leg.

Velvet crossed the distance and took his handsome face in her newly manicured fingers and kissed both his cheeks twice.  Then she wrapped her arms around him and squeezed.  “What are you doing here? I didn’t know you’d be here!  I wish I’d known, I’d have skipped the market—Oh, Jonah there are groceries, can you? Oh Grey, say you’ll stay for dinner?”

Grey laughed easily.  “What are you having?”  He asked with a charming smile as she pulled back to gaze at him as if it had been months, though the boy came home every Sunday evening for family dinner. 

“Whatever you want!”  She said without hesitation.

He laughed.  “How can I resist?”

She kissed him again and he allowed it, with a slightly embarrassed eye roll. 

“I’m beginning to feel neglected.”  Jonah teased, and his wife spun around with an apology all over her face.  Her pale green eyes were wide and she pressed her lips in, making a silent ‘oops’ expression.

He laughed and held her arms wide for her to move into.  When she’d melted against him he wrapped her close and dipped his head down to meet her lips in a welcome home kiss.  “I missed you too much.”  He murmured against her lips and felt her grin.

“I missed you too.”  She said in a giddy tone of voice that signaled to Jonah that she was too thrilled about coming home to find Grey to focus on much else.

He chuckled and gave her a final peck before standing up straight and letting her go.  He became aware that Grey and Viola were making gross-out faces at one another about their parents’ kisses.  He smiled.

“C’mon love, I need some help with the groceries.”  He told Viola and held out his hand for her.  “Grey?”

Grey nodded, accepted another little hug from his mother and followed Jonah and Viola toward the front door.

“Velvet, it helps, when you have groceries, to park in the garage, sweetheart.”  Jonah said patiently.  He said it every time.

She pulled a face.  “Sorry.”  He knew she disliked the garage and resented the garage door for some reason, but she was always vague about just why, exactly, and he’d learned to let it go and schlep the groceries.  It certainly wasn’t worth arguing about or, rather, making her upset over.  Mr. and Mrs. Delaney didn’t really ever argue, precisely.  

“No problem, we’ve got our big strong son here today.”  He said, flashing her a grin.  “Are there many?  Should you send the other girls out?”

Velvet shrugged.  “I’ll send them when they’re out of their dance clothes.”

Jonah sighed but kept the smile.  That meant they’d wander out just in time to see him grabbing the last bag and locking the trunk.  His girls weren’t stupid.

“How about you Love?”  He asked the peanut bobbing alongside him.  “Do you need to go get out of your gymnastics stuff?”

She giggled and ran ahead into the foyer to do a cartwheel.  “Nope!”

Jonah applauded and Grey enthused too.  Jonah opened the front door and Viola ran onto the front lawn crying ‘Grey! Grey Watch this!’ and proceeded to do some fancy sort of jump and roll and then a round off.

Grey and Jonah again appreciated her display even as they moved toward the van for the grocery bags.

“Thanks again.”  Grey said gruffly, loading up one arm with more grocery bags than was sensible.

Jonah followed suit and Viola carried the milk.  “Of course.”  He said in a low voice after a moment or two.

As they approached the front door Viola remembered something.  “Ooh, guess what?”

“What?”  Jonah asked indulgently.

Velvet waited to hold the door wide for them.  “We saw a man that looked like Grey!  But he was old!  I thought he WAS Grey until I got a better look and saw how OLD he was!”

Velvet’s large green eyes lifted from Viola’s perky face as the girl breezed into the house.  She met Jonah’s first, and then Grey’s.

Jonah’s stomach muscles clenched and he bit his lower jaw into his upper, causing a muscle to tweak in his face.

Beside him Grey looked sober and disgruntled.

Viola didn’t know.  She was chattering away on her progress to the kitchen, unaware that the rest of the train had slowed to a halt in the foyer.

“Jonah, please don’t—“

“Where?”  He asked darkly.  All he could imagine was that son of a bitch watching his little girl in her gymnastics lesson.  Or his twins at Dance.  Or Avalon in her fucking bathing suit at the pool.  His heart flipped.  Avalon was fourteen.  He wouldn’t put it past the animal to start sniffing around her.  “Where?”  He repeated more firmly.

Velvet looked at Grey and fidgeted.  “In the center.”  She replied.  “We didn’t speak of course, he was coming out of the smoke shop and we were headed from the florist and wanted to pop in and see Nolan—“

“I’m gunna go put these down.”  Grey muttered and moved through the foyer without looking back.

Jonah set down all his bags and tried to shake some of the circulation back into his arms.  He knew Grey would keep Viola entertained in the kitchen and he was grateful for the time to think.

“Jonah—“  Velvet closed the door and leaned her back against it.

“I just wasn’t ready.”  He said.  He removed his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose.  He wasn’t ready to tell Viola.  But now he knew he should.  Christ.  It had been hard enough with Avalon and the twins, but Viola?  She and Grey were especially close.  He’d been her champion and protector since she’d come home from the hospital.  Where he’d spent much of his life dedicated to the hobby of making Avalon and the twins miserable—teasing, tormenting, bullying, playing pranks on, instigating arguments, playing one against the others, all older brother bullshit—with Viola he’d finally become the kind of older brother Jonah could be proud of. 

He’d liked her since he met her in the maternity ward, and had apparently decided from then on to be her friend.  And when the other girls picked on her and made her life miserable the way he’d done to them, he was always there to come to her rescue, stave them off, or plot revenge pranks with her.  He made the girl laugh when she was down, made up elaborate bedtime stories to tell her when she was all wound up and didn’t want to sleep, played board games with her when she asked, and actually sat through her recitals without complaining.

And she adored him.  Jonah hadn’t told Grey, but Viola had wept bitterly for hours on end when he’d started at Cedar Prep—when he’d moved to the boarding school three years previous.  Even though Jonah explained that he’d be home every weekend, and every school vacation, and every summer.  She’d taken it very hard and it had seemed to take an agonizingly long time for her to adjust and bounce back to her usual self.  Grey’d helped with that, too.  He’d become her pen pal, a thing Viola had always wanted, but being six and not terribly adept at ‘writing’ yet, had not had such an opportunity.  Grey wrote her short letters, which Jonah would help her read, and usually included a drawing or a small artifact to amuse her; and she’d scribble nonsense back, very often including her list of spelling words from school with no prepositions to link them into anything resembling a sentence, and she’d draw pictures and send him little items as well.  Jonah suspected they were very often pilfered from her sisters and it was some kind of devious treasure hunt that Grey encouraged, but he held his tongue and let her seal them up and even stamped the envelopes himself.  Anything for that beautiful smile of hers.

And Jonah had been enormously grateful to his son for it.  A young teenage boy, on his own for the first time in his life, with so many distractions and activities and changes and new adventures to try, and the boy had taken the time, weekly, to indulge in the little ritual that made his sister beam and glow when she ran up to the mailbox.  Jonah wouldn’t have faulted the kid if he’d missed a week, or if he’d gradually weaned her by sending fewer and fewer letters over the course of his busy school year.  But it hadn’t happened like that.  Grey’d kept his end of the bargain up for the entire first year he was away, and then resumed the practice the next year when she’d cried and locked herself in her room after the Labor Day cookout when Velvet was getting ready to drive him back to school.  He’d coaxed her out by promising to write again and making her promise to do the same.  Only then had she consented to hug him goodbye and allow her father to hold her while her mom and brother pulled out of the driveway toward Cedar Prep.  

They were still pen pals but Viola had become much more busy in her little life and so the letters were finally spaced out, maybe one or two a month.  They were also longer and more articulate on her end, and shorter and more irreverent on his end.  Jonah could always tell when his daughter had received a pen pal letter by the particularly boisterous laughing he’d hear coming from her room before bed.  Whatever the hell Grey wrote to her it always cracked her up like nothing else.  She adored him.

And now he needed to take her aside tonight and explain the older man she’d seen in the center of town today.  God dammit.  He’d told the twins when they were nine, but they hadn’t seemed so young at nine.  And he’d told them together with Avalon, who’d been eleven and had always possessed a poise and maturity beyond her years.  It hadn’t been as awful as he’d expected.  But, then, none of them were all that fond of their brother, and Jonah got the feeling that they were almost relieved to discover he was only partly related to them—as if it somehow all made sense and explained how mean he was to them.

“We don’t have to tell her today.”  Velvet said in a very quiet, very urgent voice.

“Yes.  We do.”  Jonah sighed heavily.  It would be dishonest otherwise, and he made a practice of fairness and honesty with his children.  “It’s come-up, she’s noticed the resemblance, it would be sneaky to hide it any longer.”

Velvet walked to him slowly and slipped her arms around his waist tentatively.  He forced a small smile to let her know he wasn’t angry and fixed his glasses back in place before pulling her the rest of the way into an embrace.

“I’m sorry.”  She whispered, her head resting on his chest.

“There’s nothing to apologize for Sweetheart.” Jonah told her firmly.  “It isn’t shameful, it isn’t wrong, it’s just, it just isn’t easy.”  He said thoughtfully.  “But who said life is ever easy? Hm?”  He placed a kiss on the crown of her head. 

“Do you think it will change?”

Jonah was quiet.  He wasn’t sure.  He hoped not.  Not only for Viola’s sake but for Grey’s.  Poor Grey.  Jonah almost lost his resolve when he thought about the possibility that telling Viola might just change their unique relationship—Jonah sometimes thought Grey’s little sister was the only thing, besides his mother, keeping him tethered to a semi-respectable lifestyle, and rooted in the family.

“I think Grey should tell her with us.”  Jonah murmured at last. 

Velvet looked up at him and he saw the fear and hurt in her eyes.  “Don’t make him talk about it.”  She pleaded gently.

He kissed the tip of her nose.  “He’s not a boy anymore, Angel.” Jonah thought about Grey’s very real and very unfortunate situation that still needed to be dealt with this week.  “And it concerns him, why shouldn’t he have a say in how we explain it to his sister?”

Her lower lip trembled and her mouth bent into a slight frown, slight pout.  “I wish—“

Jonah kissed her to stop her from saying more.  “No.”  He said after a long moment of tender but full kissing.  “He’s perfect, you’re perfect, we’re perfect.”  He insisted.  “I don’t wish anything different Mrs. Delaney—“  He smiled warmly and saw her melt a bit, and return his smile with a small, sweet one of her own.  “And I don’t want you to either.  Not ever.”

He pulled his wife against him again and squeezed.  He rested one hand on the back of her head and gently pressed her ear to his chest, wanting her to hear his heart beat there.  “I love you.”  He said, knowing she would feel the vibrations of the familiar phrase and not just hear them.

With his other hand easily spreading across the entire expanse of her slight back he could feel her warmth, feel every inhalation and exhalation.  And when she answered with her own “I Love you”, he felt his fingertips tingle gently with the vibration of it.

“Can we wait till after dinner?”  Velvet asked meekly.

Jonah smiled.  “Of course.”  He wasn’t in a rush to spoil anyone’s evening.

“Thank you.”  His wife breathed and squeezed his rib cage a little tighter.

“Now let’s get these bags to the kitchen before the ice cream melts.”  Jonah said with a chuckle, noting a pair of frosty cartons on the floor of the foyer.

“Oh!”  Explained Velvet with a small start. 

He let her rush to the pile of bags he’d left unceremoniously and watched her bend to lift the ice cream bag.  He sighed a little at how perfect her ass was.  She bobbed back up and spun to face him with a girlish smile.  “Your favorite!”

“Lucky me.”  He grinned, and as she moved past him toward the kitchen he slapped her ass playfully.

She giggled appreciatively and continued on with a flirty glance over her shoulder.  “C’mon Mr. Delaney.”  She cooed, disappearing into the dining room with the endangered ice cream.

With a soft laugh he bent to gather up the abandoned groceries.  And he thought about Grace Bennett.  His high school sweetheart.  And wondered what kind of life they might be living today if she’d said ‘yes’ when he’d proposed that night in the car, up at Cedar Point.  If she’d said ‘yes’ and kept the baby.

A shiver stole over him from scalp to heel thinking about how close he’d come to missing out on all this.  His perfect life.  His dream come true. 

“Mum said to come help you!”  Piped a small voice behind him and he grinned, warmed through by the sound of his youngest skipping across the stone floor toward him.

“That’s my girl.”  He said affectionately, and with the quick expertise a father learns early, he deftly chose three bags of the lightest possible groceries.  “You always come through for me when I’m in a pinch.”  He told her.

She giggled.  “You’re my best friend.”  She explained.

He couldn’t help the grin he gave her.  She could make his heart swell without the least effort.  “I always will be.”  He told her without equivocation.

Her eyes scrunched up and she dazzled him with a mega-watt smile, absent a few baby teeth, making him laugh from his belly.

“Dj’you have fun in gymnastics today?”  He inquired as they made their way out of the foyer at last.

“I’m the best one in my class.”  She boasted.

He laughed again.  “How can you be certain of this?”

She looked affronted but rose to the challenge. “I can do back bends and round offs, and nobody else can do both back bends and round offs.” 

“So you’re ahead of the game, eh?”

“Exactly.”  She nodded, pushing the kitchen door open with her behind and scooting in backwards.  “Besides that, I can do three cartwheels in a row without even getting dizzy, and everyone else just falls over after two usually.”

Jonah nodded, “I’m impressed.”  He remarked, lifting his bags to the top of the kitchen island with a small groan.  Jesus Christ.  What on earth was his wife doing buying all these groceries?  “Delivery!”  He called jauntily.  But as he glanced around the kitchen he saw his wife and son were nowhere in sight.

Viola finished climbing onto one of the kitchen island barstools and deposited her three bags atop the surface alongside her father’s.  She looked around, appearing as puzzled as he.

“Where’d everyone go?”  He asked her.

She looked up and shrugged her small shoulders.

“Hmmm.”  He said thoughtfully.  “Well, let’s say you and I start putting these away—“  He saw Grey’s head move past the kitchen window.  They were out on the deck.  “Actually, love, can you start without me?  I think I spotted them.”  He winked at her and she giggled.  She lifted her arms high and he obeyed the unspoken command to lift her from the stool and spin her before setting her on the ground.

“Freezer stuff first.”  He reminded her as he crossed to the slider.

“I don’t want her anywhere near that man—“  Jonah heard Grey say as he slid open the door.

Velvet and Grey spun to face him.  Jonah smiled, though he could feel his brow bunched up.  “Am I meant to put them all away as well?”  He teased half-heartedly.  What the hell was going on?

Velvet looked apologetic and crossed to give him a peck on the cheek.  “I just never get to see him.”  She explained.

“If you let me put him in public school he’d be home all the time.”  Jonah reminded her with a playful one-finger tap to her perfect nose.  Home, under this roof, where he could more closely monitor the boy.

She shook her head and sighed exaggeratedly.  All the Calder men had attended Cedar Prep, they’d gone back and forth on whether or not to send Grey, but she’d been firm on her wishes and he’d capitulated.  Despite the fact that he was a public school teacher, and a high ranking member of the union, and president of the PTA at Cedar Falls elementary.  His son had been sent to private school.

“We were actually just talking about his grades.”  Velvet said, directing a meaningful look at her son.

Jonah frowned.  No.  They had not been.  What was going on?  “Yes.”  Jonah said slowly.  “That’s what Grey and I were discussing when you came home.”

Grey shoved his hands in his pockets and sighed, staring fixedly at some point above their heads. 

“You’re having trouble in--?”  Velvet asked sweetly.

“Biology.”  Grey responded, and Jonah’s lips twitched.  The kid had lost some of the balls he’d had in the study and had chosen the more subtle option.  Maybe it was closer to the truth.  Grey didn’t seem to have any trouble at all with the human anatomy, but the biology of it was causing him a great deal of angst. 

“Yes, well, you don’t want to be a scientist anyway.”  Said Velvet dismissively, but Jonah fixed her with a warning look.

“Sweetheart, that isn’t the point.”

She looked contrite.  “Of course.  No.  Of course.  You’ll need to study harder.”

“I will.”  Grey said in a bored tone of voice.  “When are we telling her?”  He asked, looking over his mother’s head at Jonah.

Jonah leaned back into the kitchen and watched Viola struggling to add frozen peas to the top shelf of the freezer—she was so diminutive.  He leaned his head back out.  “After dinner?”

Velvet nodded emphatically and Grey shrugged.  “Fine.”

The three of them looked at eachother for a moment.  “Velvet why don’t we get the other girls to put away the groceries and help you with dinner.  Grey, maybe you’d like to take Viola for an icecream or something?”

“And spoil our dinner?”  He asked with a wide grin.

“I think your mother will forgive you.”  Jonah responded with an answering grin.

Velvet giggled and cupped her son’s cheek adoringly.  “Go ahead.  Be back in an hour.”

Jonah stepped onto the back deck as Grey moved past him into the kitchen.  “Grey—just dodge any questions if they come up—I want to be the one to tell her.”  He said in a low voice, and Grey nodded.

“Hey midget, wanna go for a drive?”

Jonah pulled the slider shut and looked long at Velvet.  She swallowed under the scrutiny and pushed her ling silken hair over her shoulders.  “What were you two actually discussing out here?”

“Pardon?”

“Velvet?”

“Vaughan Grey.”

Jonah inhaled sharply and nodded.  “And?”

“And it isn’t an easy subject for him and I wanted to prepare him for the discussion later.”

Jonah narrowed his eyes, trying to reconcile her apparently honest tone with what he’d overheard his son saying a few moments ago.

“He was as rattled as you, I think, about him being near the girls.”

But Grey didn’t have half the reasons to be as concerned as Jonah was.  Jonah knew a hell of a lot more about the son-of-a-bitch than he’d ever told his son.

“Does he have reason to think the girls might find themselves in the man’s proximity again?”  Jonah asked very quietly, but very pointedly. 

Velvet’s eyes got hugely round and she shook her head.  “Of course not!”  She assured him, tears welling in those beautiful green orbs. 

He instantly felt like a heel. “I’m sorry.  Forgive me.”  He rushed and opened his arms for a hug.

Her lower lip quivered and he wished he hadn’t said anything.  But she let him gather her up, let him hold her and murmur apologies for doubting her in the slightest.  Of course she wouldn’t be going anywhere near that monster.  Why on earth would she, after how he’d treated her?  Jonah was an ass for even thinking it for a moment, for even hinting at the possibility.

She’d only gone back to him once, in a moment of weakness and confusion, and that had ended in absolute disaster; had ended in brutal rape and almost ended in homicide.  Of course she wouldn’t put herself in a situation like that again, and of course she wouldn’t willingly endanger any of her children. 

He held her tight.  Seeing that man today must have dredged up all the fear and guilt and pain she’d worked so hard to bury and overcome.

“I’m so sorry.”  He said again, his lips against the silky softness of her hair.  “Are you ok?”

He felt her nod against his chest.

It was going to be a long evening, telling Viola about an ugly, unhappy history.  But the truth was always better than secrets and whispers and doubts.  And the sooner he warned his little girl about that wolf she’d seen dressed up as a man, the sooner she knew how dangerous that man was, the better.  He’d deal with the nightmares and the ‘can I sleep in your bed’ and the looking around every corner for a while if it meant she never unwittingly fell into his traps.

“I can make dinner, if you want.”  He offered, still feeling like an ass.

She giggled.  “No, I wanna do it.”  She said.  “You help the girls with their homework.”

He smiled.  That he could do.  After they helped put away the damn groceries.

“Tell me it’s all going to be alright?” She whispered as he rocked her.

“It will.”  He asserted in a soothing voice.  “Everything will always be alright.” 

Dinner at La Bugia Bella

So we're done with THE DINNER, hope you enjoyed!  It was tunzafun to write. yummy.

So, keeping with the Dinner and marriage and knocked-up theme, we're taking a big step back in time!

Take a peek at Velvet and Vaughan back in the day!

This occurs sometime before the events of The Hot Tub, that Debacle that set us all in motion-- but some months after Vaughan meets the Lovely Miss Calder at the charity golf tournament.

Oh, and I especially enjoy the fun cameo by one of my favorite waiters...

***************

They were out to dinner at the little restaurant attached to the winery.  He’d been told it was some kind of anniversary.  Three months?  Six?  He wasn’t sure.  It was important to his giddy little paramour and if she was paying what the hell did he care? 

He knew it was gauche to order bourbon with dinner, especially at a winery, so he had the sommelier choose a selection for them.  What the fuck did he care.  All wine tasted like a waste of fucking time.  But he’d nodded and smiled and she’d gushed and melted.

He found he liked being with her, having her around, having her on his arm when he went places.  He enjoyed the adoring eyes she always made at him and the feeling of her little hand nestled in the crook of his elbow when he’d escort her to events and out to restaurants like tonight. 

Until now he hadn’t thought he’d stick with any one woman very long, but he seemed to have taken a shine to little Velvet Calder, and so he kept up the illusion that they were in a committed relationship.

He’d fucked the new maid that morning, the one who could barely speak English.  Fucked her up against the washing machine and come all over her ample brown backside.

But Vaughan was beginning to understand the subtle yet important distinction between girls that were just for fucking and girls like his pretty teenaged heiress here.  Who might be worth keeping around.  It was a notion that he’d heard rumored, but until now hadn’t found it to hold any particular truth. 

She still lived with her mother.  Which was adorable.  And preferable, as far as Vaughan was concerned.  Having her removed from his place most days and nights made their apparent monogamy easier to maintain.  If she moved in with him it would become a lot trickier to keep up appearances and still get all the ass he was accustomed to having.

And she was satisfying in bed too.  Young and lithe and willing to please.  She had a beautiful little pink pussy and a sweet little cupid’s bow mouth with full round lips made for sucking his cock.  Her figure was flawless, her tits perky, and her ass high and tight.  She was the best looking thing in Cedar Falls, easily, possibly the state.  A precious little deb with the perfect amount of rebellious streak that made her gravitate to him, and want him, and stay with him despite the nay-saying of her friends and that frigid bat of a mother of hers.

Sipping the wine, impatient that it wasn’t bourbon, he became aware that her big green eyes were exceptionally doe-like this evening.  He placed the wine glass down on the table and curled his lips into the sort of smile that made her panties wet and she fluttered those long, dark lashes in a way that made his cock stir.  Yes.  Vaughan Grey liked their arrangement very much. Even if it meant sipping wine and playing pretend for the girl.

“Happy anniversary.”  She said in that kittenish tone of hers. 

He growled low, almost inaudible.  She looked very pretty tonight.  He wanted to take her into the restroom or the coatcheck and muss up that perfect hair, get her a little sweaty and ruin that flawless porcelain veneer of hers.  He spun the long stem of the glass between his fingers and calculated whether or not she’d consent to such activity this evening.

On the one hand she was acting coy and demur and flirty, which was a good indication that she was already primed and ready to go, but on the other hand this was some kind of special occasion for her, to which he could tell she’d attached a great deal of girlish significance, so he ran the risk of sounding more boorish than sexy if he suggested it.

“Happy Anniversary Sweetness.”  He murmured smoothly.

She giggled delightedly and he adjusted himself discreetly.  He’d had plenty of young girls but this one did something especially pleasant to his senses.  Maybe it was because she was almost wealthier than the Vatican.  He smiled.

“Do you like it here?”  She asked, glancing around them, her eyes wide and hopeful.

Vaughan didn’t bother taking his eyes off her face.  He didn’t need to weigh his answer; he knew what she wanted to hear.  “It’s perfect darlin’.”  He purred.  And she melted, giving him one of those ‘you’re my hero’ gazes.

He could have her in the coatcheck if he felt inclined.  Maybe after the appetizer.

“I have something important I want to tell you.”  Her voice was as fluttery as her damn eyelashes.

He raised an eyebrow.  Before he could respond a waiter approached and lit the small oil lamp on their table for ambiance.  Then re-filled Velvet’s water glass.  Vaughan’s remained untouched.  Water was for bathing, not for drinking.

“Thank you.”  Velvet told the waiter sweetly and he smiled attractively in return.  Vaughan narrowed his eyes and looked the young buck up and down.  He didn’t know why, but he tended to get more possessive of Velvet than he ever did with other women.  He took in the handsome young man’s youth and vitality, his strong jaw and blue-gray eyes, his charming smile and his above-average stature, and he scowled.

It wasn’t like Vaughan to feel threatened.  He kept the girl more satisfied than her little heart could ever have dreamt possible.  He knew how to tease her and coax her and bring her body to climax again and again until she wept and begged him to have mercy on her.  He knew it was asinine to feel like punching this wholesome looking fucker, but his fingers itched nonetheless.

“Bring me a bourbon.”  Said Vaughan unceremoniously.

Velvet’s already large eyes widened and she stared at him questioningly.

The waiter had a moment of surprise too, which he very quickly masked with a genial warmth that Vaughan almost envied.  The fucker was good.  He didn’t ask, like most other waiters in the place would have done, whether the wine wasn’t satisfactory, they all three of them knew it wasn’t about that.  He was charming.  He was likely a bartender somewhere when he wasn’t a waiter. 

Proving Vaughan right the young man rattled off—from memory—an impressive selection of Bourbons for Vaughan to choose from and even made a recommendation.  Arrogant little prick.  Vaughan grinned a feral grin at the boy, and ordered, and then stared him down until he’d turned and made his way to the bar.

“Is everything ok?”  Velvet asked, a note of true concern coloring her tone and flashing in her eyes.

He smiled.  “I didn’t like the way he was looking at you.”  Vaughan told her easily.

She blushed very prettily and swept her hair over her shoulder with a small laugh.  “He wasn’t doing anything.”  She said dismissively but he could read a certain thrilled undercurrent.  She liked his jealousy.

“He’d have to be a eunuch not to be doing something around you princess.”  He murmured with a deadly half smile that made her shiver visibly.  He flicked his eyes down to her tits and watched the small peaks materialize and press against the thin fabric of her dress.

“Well it doesn’t matter, does it?”  She asked, donning a charming smile and tilting her head coyly.  “Because all I want is you.”  She said a bit more seriously.

“You wouldn’t like a nice young cock to ride?”  He challenged her and her precious mouth fell open in shock before she giggled again.  This time a little nervously.

“No!”  She insisted.

“He looks like he’d be good in bed, sugar, are you sure you don’t want a taste?”  He pushed, keeping his tone liquid and flirty.

She threw her glance toward the bar and flushed.  “No!”  She asserted, and her eyes told him that the young man was coming their way again.

“Tell me.”  He said in a low growl.

He could feel the handsome young man approaching, feel her mounting embarrassment.

“Vaughan—“  She pleaded with those big pale green eyes and he shook his head fractionally. 

“Tell me.”  He repeated firmly.

Her eyes slid to the tall, dark haired, attractive fellow who was now nearly at their table and she swallowed.

“I want you to fuck me every day and night and I don’t want anybody’s cock but yours.”  She rushed in a half whisper, saying just what he’d taught her to say.

“And?”  He prompted, suppressing the arrogant smile that threatened to ruin his stern command.

Her eyebrows went up and she huffed.

“You’re running out of time sugar.”  He warned her and flicked his eyes to where the waiter had been momentarily detained by the winery owner for a word.  He was maybe six feet from their table.  Grey squinted at the effortless grace of the young man, the way he appeared easy and amiable without being smarmy.  And he guessed the lad didn’t need to work as a waiter.  Probably had a college fund and went on ski retreats and drove a decent car.  Likely he’d become a waiter and a bartender—Vaughan was now almost certain he’d seen this kid tending bar downtown somewhere not too long ago—for the insane amount of tail he could score.  “Want me to ask him home with us?”  He asked her, menacing.

“No!”  She squeaked, panicked.

“Then tell me.”  He said seriously.

“I love you.”  She said, her lower lip quivering.  “You’re the only man who can make me come and I need you to live.”  She finished their little ritual passionately, and with perfect timing: the young man arrived at the table in time to hear it very clearly.

Vaughan nodded at Velvet and gave her a wink.  “Good girl.”  He told her as he looked up at the waiter.  Damn, but the kid was good.  He looked perfectly mild and pleasant, though there was no doubt he’d heard it, just as Vaughan had intended him to.

“Your Bourbon.”  He intoned affably and set it down on a little napkin.  “The appetizers are on their way out, can I take your dinner order?”  He was a pro.

Vaughan’s lips twisted.  The young man was addressing Vaughan now, keeping his eyes determinedly away from Miss Calder.  Vaughan chuckled with wry amusement and lifted the bourbon to his lips.  He sniffed deep and then sipped.  When he’d swallowed, when he’d made Velvet and this young cock wait for him, he smiled pleasantly at the kid.  “You know your Bourbon.”  He complimented smoothly.  “This is a good recommendation.”

The young man nodded with a perfectly agreeable smile.  “Glad I could be of service.”  He responded warmly but Vaughan didn’t miss the flinty note of something else underneath, deep underneath.  The boy disliked him.  Vaughan laughed deeply.  Maybe he disliked the way he treated the lady.  He eyed the boy thoughtfully and to his credit the waiter endured the scrutiny calmly and patiently.  He looked like the sort who might object to the way Vaughan Grey treated his women.

“I’ll have the special.”  He said at last, not giving a damn what the special was, “And she’ll have the same.”  He said without even looking at her.

The waiter winced slightly before following his gut instinct and checking with the young miss.  “Two specials?”  he asked gently.  Yeah, this was the sort of boy who came from a good family, who had a rigid moral compass and a sense of honor and all that horse shit.

Velvet smiled at the waiter but this time the smile was tepid and tight.  She nodded.  “Thank you.”  She told him and then effectively dismissed him by putting her eyes back on Vaughan, discouraging any follow-up questions about side-dishes or soup-or-salad.

The waiter nodded a little stiffly.  “Very good.  I’ll be right over with your appetizers.”   He said courteously before melting away into the background of the restaurant.

“I love you.”  She told him.

“You’re a very good girl.” He said in response.  “And I’ll make sure you get what you deserve later on.”  He promised.

She sighed and fiddled with the fork and knife on her place setting.

“What did you have to tell me?”  He asked and took another sip.  He’d have to order a case of this for his home.  This was good Bourbon.

She took a deep breath and then took a sip of her water and then took her time about it.

“This is big news.”  She told him, some of her spark re-kindling and a giddy buoyancy creeping into her tone.

“Well don’t tease me.”  He murmured, wondering what stupid piece of gossip he’d have to endure with feigned interest this time.  The things he did for this pretty piece of tail amazed him sometimes.

“Tonight isn’t just an important anniversary.”  She told him breathlessly.

“No?”  He murmured.  He wanted to slip his fingers inside her and make her beg him to fill her with his cock.

“Tonight is also the night that I tell you the best news.”  She said dramatically, and he liked the healthy flush on her baby-soft cheeks.

He didn’t say anything, just smiled and waited.  The girl wasn’t good at keeping secrets or holding back surprises.  He’d known he was getting a golf cart two whole months before his birthday.

“Vaughan.”  She began, “I wanted to come here tonight to tell you something wonderful.” and he reacted viscerally to the rehearsed sound her voice had taken-on.  He sat up a little straighter.  An alarm bell rang somewhere in his consciousness, but it was too late, there was no stopping her now.  “You’re going to be a father!”  She told him, her lips stretching into an impossibly wide grin and her eyes sparkling with joy and emotion.

Fuck.  God damn son of a bitch and fuck.  His nostrils flared.  Shit eating son of a whore.  He licked his lips.  She looked proud and exuberant and glowing and he had a powerful instinct to stand her up and punch her hard in the stomach. 

Instead he smiled.

“Peaches.”  He purred warmly.  “Do you mean it?”  He asked, forcing a playful warmth he most certainly didn’t feel. 

She nodded vigorously.  “I love you so much and, and, we’re having a baby!”  She exclaimed, turning her palms upward with an implied little ‘ta-da’.  When he didn’t say anything for a moment she worried her lower lip and searched his face, her heart in her eyes.  “Are you happy?”

Vaughan exhaled.  “Of course I’m happy Sugar.”  He lied effortlessly.  “You’ve made me the happiest man in the world.”  He cleared his throat.  “I thought you were on—“

The waiter, along with another waitstaff member, arrived to serve the appetizers.  Vaughan sipped his bourbon thoughtfully, waiting for the plates to be set down and the dishes to be revealed.  He needed to make a big decision here, and make it fairly quickly.  A series of rapid-fire facts ran through his brain as he sipped.

 Velvet Calder was very rich.  Velvet Calder was not the type of girl who was likely to flush this little development down the drain.  Velvet Calder was very, very rich.  And very, very  naïve.  And very much in love with him.  Seventeen; stupid; pretty; pregnant; and as close to perfect as he might ever get.

His mouth twitched to the side as she thanked the waiters and they left.

“I thought you were on birth control.”  He finished his thought, keeping his tone measured and gentle.  She’d told him she was on fucking birth control.  He studied her reaction carefully.

She had trouble meeting his eye and her shoulders were tense.  “I was, I was—I must have, maybe, made a mistake?  Or, I must have missed?  A few?”

Stupid fucking cunt. 

He smiled at her reassuringly.  “Things happen for a reason love.”  He told her and watched her face break into another one of those adoring, sickeningly worshipful gazes.  He restrained himself from rolling his eyes.  No, she wasn’t stupid, not precisely.  She had ‘forgotten’ on purpose.  She’d set-out to get knocked up and she’d succeeded.  He wanted to laugh.  He should have known better than to underestimate a bitch in heat.  Innocent as she may have appeared, little Velvet Calder was still a female, and they had a way of getting whatever the fuck they wanted.  Romantic little idiot.

“You’re really happy?”  She asked, joy mixed with a measure of incredulity.  “I know you said you didn’t want kids—“

“C’mere.”  He told her, cutting of what was likely to be one hell of a stream of babbling.

She cast a glance around them, hesitating, aware of the public nature of their situation.

“Come here.”  He repeated, more deliberately, and she rose to go to him obediently.  He twisted in his chair a bit and patted his thigh, impelling her to have a seat.  She bit her lip and looked painfully embarrassed but she obeyed, perching her slight weight on his muscular thigh and gazing deep into his dark eyes.

“You happy, little Mamma?”  He asked her, chucking her under her soft, silken chin with his rough forefinger.

She nodded and gave him a sheepish smile that made him want to tear her clothes off right there in the restaurant, defile her in front of all the self-important winery patrons.  Make that charming fucking waiter watch as he pounded the little slip of a thing until she fainted.

He stretched his finger along the small, delicate curve of her jaw and applied a hint of pressure, commanding her toward him.  He’d trained her well and she leaned in to kiss him as he desired.  He claimed her little mouth with his own; kissed her soft, and full, and sweet, and felt her sigh contentedly and sink into his body a little more. 

He knew what he needed to do.  Fuck.  But it was the best thing under the circumstances.

“Well, Sweetness.”  He rumbled with a smile.  “I think this means we’re engaged, don’t you?”

Her eyes grew round as saucers and her mouth matched.  “Oh Vaughan!”

He found he liked the idea of owning her completely.  And having access to her vast fortune didn’t hurt either.  Being married would likely be a pain in the fucking ass.  But he could see enjoying some perks.

“You caught me off guard here Darlin’, I don’t have a ring for you.”

She laughed and threw her arms around his neck and squeezed tight.  “I love you I love you I love you!”  She breathed into his neck and he chuckled.

After a moment of indulging her, he pulled her away from him and fixed her with an intense stare.  He didn’t want a fucking kid.  He didn’t particularly want to be married.  But she was obedient and gorgeous and young and malleable.  “Meet me at the coat check in five minutes.”  He told her.

She furrowed her brow.  Little girls don’t usually dream of their engagements going that way—ending up in a public quickie—but he needed to make it clear that nothing about them was going to change if he married her.  She was still going to be at his command, service his whims, spread her legs for his pleasure whenever and wherever he wanted.

He watched her swallow and thought maybe he’d like her to drink him in the coat check. 

Then she nodded in reticent compliance and he kissed her again.  Kissed her until the frown lines melted and the concerned brow dissolved and she whimpered against his lips.

“Get going baby.”  He mumbled, breaking their kiss just when her lust was becoming palpable to everyone around them.

She bit her lip, her eyes hooded and hazy with desire, and she rose from his lap as if in a trance.  He watched her walk toward the front of the restaurant and sipped his bourbon.  For a few moments he thought about what he’d like to do to her out there.  On the one hand he wanted her to understand she was his, and the idea of making her get on her knees in the coat check made him harder than hell.  On the other hand he knew he could make her night a memorable one, make her grateful—and all the more his property—if he ate her out, made her come again and again, made her the happiest little girl in Cedar Falls.  He put his drink down and drummed his fingers on the table, deep in thought.

The handsome waiter crossed Vaughan’s eyeline, and as the boy took an older couple’s order Vaughan made up his mind.  He was going to go into that coat check and fuck that little girl from behind, give her the reach around until she was moaning loud enough for the whole restaurant to hear. 

He smiled and, adjusting himself as necessary, he stood and sauntered toward the front of the restaurant.  As he passed the young buck he said casually: “We’ll be right back—hold our dinner for a few minutes, will you?”  And kept on without waiting for a response or looking back.

He was glad he’d brought enough cash for the bribes he was about to pay out.