Jameson Hotel - the Dark Suite Series: Parts One, Two & Three (16 page)

“No.”

“Mark?”

“Hmm?”

“Fucking
kiss
me, you bastard.”

“Now? Why. We just
finished. It’s not like I can get it up again.”

“God, you suck.” She
stands and rubs her wrists, watching me put on a black dress shirt and a dark
grey sport jacket. “What dinner?”

“My sister invited
us over. But don’t expect anything tasty, she can’t cook.”

“I thought Cove was
pissed at you this morning?”

“Are you kidding?
That was nothing. The guy loves me. Don’t let his snarling remarks and
pissy
attitude fool you.”

She rolls her eyes,
holds her ass, and starts to walk away, only to be surrounded in my arms a
moment later. “Wait, I have a question.”

“What?”

“You’re always
fucking with my head.”

It’s true. She makes
me second-guess everything. I feel like a fool when she’s around.

“That’s not a
question.”

“I know. Look... I
want to know how a man like Roland can hurt a woman like you? If I did anything
like that you’d cut off my dick.”

I graze her cheek
and she looks past me then leans into my hand for comfort, kissing my thumb and
then the palm of my hand. She knows full well that I killed him. There’s no doubt
in my mind now. She knows.

“I was weak once in
my life, but never again. If this was our first time together, and you held me
down and was forcing me to do something I didn’t enjoy, or I said no and you
wouldn’t stop, then we’d have a big problem.”

“
I’d
have a big problem,” I whisper.

She nods. “After
Roland, I knew I’d never let that happen again. You waited a long time to fuck
me and along the way, if I ever told you to stop, you did. I trust you. And I
let you play with your toys because I enjoy them too... besides, I really like
you. That makes a huge difference. I never developed any feelings for Roland.”
Her eyes return to mine and then her soft fingers touch the bump on my head.
“Don’t get hurt, Mark, okay? Don’t do anything stupid for me. Let the past be
what it is and forget about all the brutes.”

My fingers are under
her chin, lifting her head so her lips can have the kiss they deserve. Our eyes
close when we touch and a delightful, erotically sensual sigh flows through the
air. My tongue coils around hers, turning, twisting, and sliding in and out.
Next time I’ll remember to kiss her during our fuck.

The strap-on sticks
out from under my shirt, the used condom hangs off my shrunken dick, and my
fingers skim across her flat stomach. Never in my life have I paid this much
attention to a woman.

“I’m sorry,” she
whispers.

“What? Where the
hell did that come from?” I’m taken aback by her words.

“I’m serious. I
promise to behave in front of your family and I won’t touch your switchblade.”

“No shit?”

“No shit, Mark.” She
grins. “Now, I better get dressed if we’re going out.”

“Wait,” I pull her
back, “sleep here tonight. Stay in my bed, next to me. Will you do that? Maybe
we can fuck again, or at least I can get you off, or, I don’t know, we could
talk, maybe... no, I hate talking. Forget I said that. But stay.”

 
“
Shh
.” Her finger
presses against my lips. “I love it that you need me... this is good,” she
says.

I kiss her again,
exhaling a powerfully defeated breath.

This most
definitely, is
not
good.

GIFT

“W
hat’s in the
box?” Julia asks as we walk through the corridor toward my second suite where
Cove and Sophia are waiting. We’re late. It’s ten past seven. But at least the
time was well spent. Jules looks absolutely stunning. I watched her slip into a
short black dress, a snug fit, so tight that she left her underwear behind,
expressing her disdain for panty lines. But, I bet it’s really because she has
a sore ass.

Her hair is pulled
back in a bun, she’s in her usual black heels, and her makeup has the appearance
of perfection - plum colored lipstick, black mascara, and a gold eye shadow.
She’s way overdressed for my family, but I’ll take this look any day to a woman
in jeans and a t-shirt. I’m never been a fan of the casual look, it reminds me
too much of my mother.

“The box is a
surprise for Cove,” I respond.

My sister’s loud
voice stops my hand in mid-air, right before I’m about to knock, then I hear my
brother-in-law’s usual disrespectful words as I wait and listen.

“I don’t want that fuck to come over here. I
can’t believe you’re not listening to me!”

“Cove, he’s the only family I have. We’re
here for two more days; can you try to be civil, at least for one night? He
helped us out a great deal. We’re safe and he didn’t even charge us.”

“Ha! Are you listening to yourself? Jesus
Christ, Soph. What, like a contract killing? You think he...”

“Stop it! And watch your language. This is
total crap. And no, I didn’t mean charge us to take care of
Dayne
,
I meant for the suite.”

“Fuck, I hate him.”

“Hate’s such a strong word and I don’t want
you to use it with the boys around.”

Jules whispers that
maybe we should come back later, but I shake my head and knock.

“He loves me,” I say
under my breath.

The door opens and
my sister smiles while Cove’s in the background mixing a drink. He turns around
and raises a glass to us then walks over to the dining room table, probably
wanting to get this over with as quickly as possible.

“You’re late,”
Sophia says. “Hi Jules, you look pretty.”

“Thanks, you too.”

We walk inside and I
see two room service carts in the kitchen area. Good. She didn’t cook.

“Thanks for the
invite, even though the dinner is from my own restaurant.”

“I wanted to make
sure you didn’t complain about the food,” she laughs. “If you don’t like it,
then it’s your problem, not mine. I take no responsibility if you don’t enjoy
the meal.”

“I thought this
space was used for storage. I didn’t know it was another suite,” Jules says.
“It’s the same layout as yours too, only brighter.”

My sister has the
blinds open, something she hasn’t been able to do in weeks since I’d insisted
they keep the rooms dark. But this evening, as the
sun sets
,
the remaining rays of the day dance around us.

“Where are the
boys?” I ask.

“Watching a movie
upstairs. I thought we could use a little privacy tonight.” She leans closer to
me and whispers. “Cove’s in a foul mood. I didn’t want the boys here in case
the two of you get in an argument.”

I nod and look over
at him in the dining room, running a finger around the rim of his glass. He
frowns at me and I smile, walking into the room and placing the box on the
table.

“It’s a thank you,”
I say, “open it.”

“I don’t want you
buying me gifts, Mark.”

“Cove, just open
it,” my sister says, rolling the dinner carts into the room. Julia helps her
place the four chicken dinners on the table, along with bread and a peach pie
for desert while Cove takes the top off the wooden box.

“No shit,” he says
with a grin.

“I thought you might
be missing home. I ordered it from your place and had it shipped overnight.”

“What is it?” Julia
peeks into the box. “Wine?”

“My house wine from
my bar in St. Louis, The Dark Scarlett.”

“Just what he needs,
more alcohol,” Sophia mumbles.

“It’s exactly what I
need. The alcohol in this suite is pure sewage.”

“That’s bullshit.” I
take a seat across from Julia and Sophia sits across from Cove. “I only buy top
notch liquor for my hotel.”

“Nothing compares to
mine.” He pours himself a glass, swirls it in the air, sniffs, and then takes a
big gulp. “
Ahh
.”

“Three bottles
enough?” I ask.

“It’s plenty Mark,
thanks,” my sister says. “He’s fine until we return home.”

Cove pours a glass
for everyone and although I don’t receive a thank you from him, I can tell he’s
pleased. I mean; he’s already on his second glass.

“Your head looks
like shit,” Cove says.

“Thanks, I know. I
got lucky.”

“You never told me
what happened,” Jules whispers, staring at my forehead.

“Yeah, I’d like to
know as well,” Sophia chimes in.

“Tough guy,
Dayne
, jumped me from behind and bashed my head into the
concrete floor. That’s when I knifed him. At that moment I knew it was him or
me, right?” They nod as I butter my bread.

“Cove told me what
happened on the boat and I don’t want to discuss this at the dinner table. New
conversation,” my sister says.

“So he told you he
sunk
Dayne
? He rolled him off the boat to rest in the
depths of Lake Tahoe? Your husband was one hell of a sidekick last night.”

“What?”

“Sophia, don’t get
him started. Just eat your food,” Cove says, sipping more wine.

“No, he didn’t
mention that,” she fumes. “What the heck, Cove? I thought we agreed you were
just going to help lift him, nothing more. What did you do?”

I laugh, which I
shouldn’t, but the shit these too bicker about...

“You fucking try
standing next to Mark when he’s gutting a guy like a fish and telling horrific
stories of our family and see how long you last before you snap! I wanted it
over with and your brother was taking his sweet ass time, then he got all weird
and started singing that creepy troll song. I was
not
going to stand and listen to that shit, trapped in a boat, with
a dead body at my feet, in the middle of the dark lake!”

“Okay,” Sophia
sighs. “I understand. I’m sorry.”

“Thank you,” he says
sternly.

“Mark,” Sophia takes
my hand, “I’ve been telling you since we were kids that the troll song is bad
luck. He dies in the end, remember?”

“I feel so lost,”
Jules says. “What troll song?”

“It’s from Billy
Goats Gruff, he used to read it to me when I was little. He’s been singing it
since I can remember.” She shakes her head. “My mother used to chase us around
the house while she sang it to us, then Mark started repeating it like it was
big fun. But it totally
creeped
me out, as Cove said,
it’s a hair-raising song for children, and just plain strange for an adult to
be singing. Flat out weird.” She looks at me and releases my hand. “Did you
hear me? The nasty, goat-eating troll dies. It’s not fitting for you to think
you’re a troll, Mark... could be bad karma, or something.”

“Keep singing it,”
Cove whispers with a smirk.

“You should call
her,” I say softly to my sister, referring to our mother. “She’d be thrilled to
hear from you, even from the psych ward.”

“When hell freezes
over.” She chugs her wine and passes the empty glass to Cove for a refill.
“It’s been over a decade since we last spoke and the two of us have nothing to
say to one another. She’s a violent wench and I won’t subject my kids to her
abuse. Plus, I can’t talk to her when she’s all medicated and wants me to call
her ‘mommy.’ It sends shivers down my spine.”

“It’s not a bad
thing that she’s getting help. Besides, any one of us could be in one of those
places.”

She laughs, trying
to lighten the mood. “The doctors wouldn’t know what to do with us.”

“Fair enough.” I
agree.

“Anyway, mom loves
you
, not me.”

“No, you just never
stood up to her when we were kids. She appreciated my dominance in the house
but preyed on you because you were weak.”

“That’s a shit ass
excuse for her behavior. And I’m far from being weak now, but the woman still
hates me.”

“You don’t know that
because you don’t talk to her.”

“Yeah, I already
told you, when hell freezes over.”

“Umm,” Jules cuts
in. “So this is what you guys discuss over dinner? In my house we talk about
sports, and books or television shows, new movies that are out, and how things
are at work.”

“Damn, I’d love to
be a fly on the wall at your house if you ever invite Mark over to meet your
parents. He can tell them all about how he made his fortune by inheriting his
father’s porn company,” Cove jokes.

“That will never
happen. I’m not fifteen, going to meet the parents just to impress some chick
so I can get laid... now Jules... go ahead.” I raise my hand for her to take
control. “Feel free to talk about whatever the fuck you want. I’m up for a
normal conversation.”

The three of us
stare at her and I can tell she feels uncomfortable. She’s trying to think
about something to ask, but draws a blank when put on the spot.

“Never mind,” she
says. As promised, she’s behaving in front of my family.

“Well, then, I’ll
change the subject.” I turn to Cove. “You remember any of
Dayne’s
women from back in the day?”

“Shit,” he says,
taking a bite of chicken and chewing slowly while he thinks. “There were
hundreds that came and went from Paul’s house. Why?”

“I don’t know, what
do you think? Have you wondered about how
Dayne
got
here and was able to buy a gun so quickly after getting out of prison? Or pay
for a motel room in town? The guy was living in my dad’s house when he got
arrested. He didn’t have a dime to his name.”

“There’s always a
way. He knew people in Vegas. And that’s why
we
came here. We expected him to figure all that shit out. That’s
the kind of guy he was. Why? What are you saying?”

“He brought
company.”

Sophia sets down her
fork. “Of course he did,” she says fretfully. “And why the hell didn’t you say
something earlier, when my kids were alone in the pool? You asshole. Do we have
to stay here now, or what? Who is it? Do you know him?”

“It’s not that big
of a problem. You’re safe. It’s only a woman and she’ll be easy to handle if I
ever run into her. And no, I don’t know her, I didn’t recognize her tits, but
she did have a Jameson tat on her shoulder.”

“What tits?” Jules
asks. “Wait a second. That tattoo you have... I thought...”

My sister looks at
Cove with a furrowed brow. He shakes his head and whispers, “it’s not her.”

“Not who?” I ask.

“What did she look
like?” Sophia asks.

“Mark,
what
tits?” Jules says in a bitter tone.

“I saw her through
the bathroom window of
Dayne’s
motel room. She was
bent over, toweling her hair, but I never saw her face.”

“Okay, so what did
her tits look like?” my sister asks.

“You’re not going to
make an ID from the description of some woman’s tits.”

“Try me.”

“Alright... too big
to be cradled in my hands, they looked soft, round, short nipples, and her
areolas were deep brown and large, like wider than two inches, a nice contrast
to her ghost white skin.”

“Big ass?” she
questions.

“Yep.”

“
Mera
Calloway.”

“Ha,
Mera
? No. This woman was too big to be
Mera
Calloway, both her hips and her tits were huge. I remember
Mera
had a small frame and good size tits and a big ass years ago, but nothing
extreme. Not like the woman I saw.”

“Stop ignoring me,”
Jules says. “So that tat,” she points to my shoulder, “you didn’t get it
because you’re big-headed? Other people have the same one as you?”

I pull my collar
down to reveal the Jameson Industries tattoo then Sophia does the same, moving
the neckline of her brown dress to show the dove she had inked over my father’s
company logo. But of course, Cove sits in silence, not showing his flesh, and
not wanting to discuss it in any great detail tonight.

“He had two tats
from the company and covered the one on his chest with a black rose,” I say,
motioning toward Cove. “One was the company name and the other...”

“Stop,” he requests.

“So all of you were
branded?” she asks, ignoring my last comment.

“It was business,” I
respond. “It showed that my father owned us, I mean, it showed we worked for
his company.”