Prodigal Son (Jensen Family #1) (36 page)

“I know all about the teacher
and the baby and I don’t give a flying fuck.” She wriggled her skirt up over
her hips, revealing her suspenders and the creamy skin above her stocking tops
before hooking a leg around his hip and grinding her mound into his groin
“Admit it, you want me” her tongue teased his lips and she clung to him as he
grabbed her and kissed her.

Letting his shoulders rest
against the wall of the changing room, he thrust his hips. outwards as she
hooked her other leg over his hip, her hands gripping his shoulders, leaving it
to him to free his erection, move her underwear aside and lower her down onto
him, she was so aroused and wet that she accommodated him easily, he shuddered
as he sank into her, his full length disappearing with ease.

“We have to be quick lover”
She breathed.

“I seriously doubt that will
be a problem.” He gasped as she wrapped her arms firmly around his neck and
began to ride him, “I love how wet you get, it’s beautiful, fuck, Suzie, I’m
nearly there.”

“Wait.” She hissed “Me
first,” she knew he would hold back, she knew exactly how to play him, she
placed one heeled foot on the floor and wrapped the other leg further around
him, grinding her mound into his pubic bone, capturing his mouth to drown out
the groan of their combined orgasm. Feeling him subside, she let her other leg
fall to the floor and kissed him while adjusting her underwear before stepping
back and easing her skirt over her hips. “Thank you Mr. Jensen that was just
what the doctor ordered.”

“Boyfriend
not doing it for you?”
He asked,
his underwear back in place, he once again buttoned the shirt and reached for
the trousers.

“Not like you do.” She
admitted.

“Then dump him and date me.”
He glanced at her as he reached for the jacket.

“No, I like him and he’ll get
there in the disgusting sex stakes besides, didn’t you say you were serious
about the teacher?”

“Hmm,” he mumbled “So serious
that I’ve just fucked you in a dressing room.”

“Proving my
point that you aren’t ready for a serious relationship.
That looks great.” She smoothed the lapels on the
jacket. “Come outside and have a look in the bigger mirrors.”

Michael was sitting in the
waiting area, a coffee on the table beside him as they left the dressing room
and entered the department the sight of him making Paul do a quick recap of
what had just happened, hoping that neither of them had voiced their pleasure
as Michael would be sure to mention it at some point during the day.

“Hello Mr. Jensen, we won’t
keep you long.” She beamed at him “Yes, I think this is definitely the one.”
She smiled at Paul “What do you think?”

“I like it.” He agreed.

“Hmm, there’s something
missing, let me see, erm I know, cufflinks.” She eased the cuffs of the shirt
out of the jacket to make sure it didn’t have buttons before whirling away only
to return moments later with the cufflinks, fastening them to the shirt, she
told him to remove his jacket and have a hard look at the fit of the trousers
and shirt, their eyes meeting in the mirror and both smiling, the end effect was
dazzling, his frame carried a suit perfectly. “Will this be suitable?” she
turned to Michael.

“That will do nicely.”
Michael nodded “Please remove the tags, he can keep it on, we are returning to
the office.”

Once in the car on the way to
the office, Paul glanced at his father, one hand playing with the lapel of his
new jacket “Thanks Dad.” Those two words being the most he had said to the
older man in weeks.

“I didn’t do it out of the
kindness of my heart.” Michael gruffed “You will soon be meeting clients, the
suit is a necessity.” He didn’t see eye to eye with this boy but he was pleased
his manners appeared to be intact.

By then end of Saturday, Paul
was exhausted and pleased to find his brother was nowhere to be found when he
stepped out of the shower. Dressing in an old sweatshirt and loose fitting
jogging bottoms, he joined the rest of his family for an early evening meal,
stifling yawns repeatedly throughout before retiring to his room.

“Hey Paul, wake up” Matt
shook his sleeping sibling again.

“What?” Paul gruffed, he felt
as though he had only just closed his eyes “It can’t be morning already?” he
mumbled, rolling away from Matt’s persistent shaking.

“Nah man, it’s Saturday
night, why are you in bed? It’s time to partay.” Matt grinned dancing to the
imaginary beat in his head “Come on, get up.”

“Matt, I’m knackered, I’m
gonna stay in tonight.” Paul brushed his hair out of his eyes, frowning at his
brother but he couldn’t help smiling when Matt began to dance.

“Paul, it’s two for one night
at Jokers, we have to go.”

“Well, if you’d said we were
going to Jokers, I’d be dressed already.” He sat up, grinning at his brother
“Give me ten minutes.”

Jokers, hardly a premier
night spot but the Jensen twins loved it, if they were to be found anywhere on
any given Friday and Saturday night, it would be there. The club was run down
to say the least, the furnishings were shabby, the dance floor worse but the
booze was cheap and the music jumping, this coupled with the fake ID’s the boys
had got their hands on and a sizeable donation to the scarily large doorman
guaranteed them entry to the club each and every time they arrived at the door,
Jokers was indeed the venue of choice for them.

The Jensen boys were well
known at the club and were a draw in themselves, both being outstanding in the
looks department and with physiques to die for, no sooner would they step into
the club than they would be surrounded by the people they knew there, all much
older than them and mainly of the female persuasion.

Sending Paul to the bar, Matt
headed for the dance floor and gyrated his way into a delightful smelling group
of ladies who were dancing around their handbags, within seconds he was up
close and personal with the girl he had selected from the group, her bottom
pressed to his groin, grinding hard to the beat.

Paul fought his way to the
packed bar and amusing bar staff, all of whom were either lithe, scantily clad
women or handsome, built men who would further encourage the deviant behaviour
at the club by dancing so close that they could be mating and openly kissing
and fondling each other as well as flirting outrageously with the patrons.

As was the norm when Paul
approached the bar, the manager appeared in front of him, not needing to ask
what he wanted; the two had an established rapport and the man had, on several
occasions, offered Paul a bar job to which Paul would smile and come up with a
feasible excuse as to why he couldn’t take the job up until the day the bar
manager had cottoned on that he was not only too young to serve behind the bar
but also too young to actually be in the club in the first place. After, taking
Paul to one side and telling him he knew both the boys were underage; he smiled
and then told him that he was prepared to turn a blind eye to that fact
provided they didn’t cause any trouble.

By half two on Sunday
afternoon, both boys had surfaced, Paul sitting at the breakfast bar nursing a
cup of tea along with a pile of chocolate digestives while trying to get his banging
head around that week’s staff schedules, a pen in one hand, a largely un-smoked
cigarette in the other, he stared, uncomprehending at the paper in front of
him.

Matt, having risen mere
moments before his brother had made it as far as the bottom of the stairs
before his spinning head succeeded in getting the message through to his
bubbling stomach that it needed to void its contents and quickly. Bolting for
the downstairs cloakroom and managing to angle his head over the bowl
milliseconds before the acidic contents of his stomach flowed into the toilet.
Trying not heave in time with his brother, Paul made a hasty retreat to the
kitchen which is where Monica found him.

“You look dreadful.”

“I feel worse.” Paul mumbled
“Is Matt still throwing up?”

“Yes” she confirmed noticing
that her youngest son made a tremendous effort not to dry heave at the thought,
“Can I get you something a little more substantial than biscuits?”

“No thanks Mum; it’s about
all I can manage right now. I’ll be fine once my head stops pounding.”

Monica put a packet of
paracetemol
and a glass of water in front of him, adding
another glass when Matt stumbled into the kitchen and took the stool next to
Paul.

“I am never drinking again.”
He declared as he downed two tablets and sunk the glass of water.

“Ah, the morning after
lament” Monica quipped.

“I don’t know why you bother
drinking when you inevitably end up puking most of it down the toilet.” Paul
commented, he tentatively managed to stretch his tight muscles, the large glass
of water and pain killers were slowly taking effect.

“One way or another it all
ends up down the bog.” Matt told him “Whoa, whoever gave you that sure had a
big mouth.” He finished having caught sight of the dark red love bite on Paul’s
neck.

Sliding off his stool, Paul
approached the mirror at the far end of the kitchen “Shit” he muttered “How the
hell did I get that?” he asked no one in particular as he re-took his stool

“Don’t know why you bother
drinking if you can’t remember anything.” Matt shot a sideways glance at him.

“Very
fucking funny.”
Paul lashed out,
landing a playful punch on Matt’s hugely muscled arm “Did you see me with
anyone last night?” he asked, all the while painfully aware that although
Monica seemed occupied with the dinner preparations, she was listening intently
to her sons.

“I saw you with several
someone’s last night but you didn’t seem to be that close to any of them, you
did disappear for about half an hour though and I did see a couple of ladies
coming in from the compound straightening their clothes, it wasn’t long after
they hit the dance floor that you appeared.”

“Crap. I really shouldn’t
drink.” Paul put his head in his hands; Matt’s description was prodding
memories and did also explain why he’d woken up still wearing a condom.

“Paul, I thought you were a
one woman man and that you were in love with Carmen?” Monica stepped into the
conversation.

“I do love Carmen; I’m having
a hard time with the one woman bit.” He sighed “I’ve been with Suzanne this
week as well as whomever that was at the club.”

“You old
dog.”
Matt chuckled.

“I suppose I’m hoping in vain
that you were safe?” Monica asked.

“I know I was last night if
only for the fact that I was still wearing my protection this morning.” He
cringed.

“Oh, that right there is just
plain wrong” Matt shuddered “
Ergh
.”

Monica suppressed a smile at
the horrified expressions both of the boys wore “Don’t you think you would be
better off with Suzanne, she is at least more your age.”

“She won’t have me, she says
I’m not ready to be with her on a permanent basis yet and she’s right but I
can’t get enough of her.”

“And where does Carmen figure
in all this, remember her, the one carrying your baby?” she prodded.

“I love Carmen, I really do
but I’m in love with Suzanne, it’s hard to explain.” He shrugged.

“Try.” Monica put her hands
on her hips.

“Well,” he paused, searching
for words, running his fingers through his hair “If I were an artist I would
say she’s my muse, the one I want to capture, she’s my soul mate, I can tell
her anything and everything and none of it phases her, she’s the only one
besides you who truly knows me.”

“And the
girl or girls last night?”

“Drunken
fumbles.”
He admitted “Something
which I hope won’t be repeated but who knows?”

Later that evening, after a
lengthy phone call to Carmen which revealed that not only was she experiencing
increasingly regular Braxton Hicks contractions but also that her house had
finally been sold and she was actively looking for somewhere to live.

Paul silently thanked his
Uncle for purchasing the house while he made plans to step up his work load and
make a lot of money in as short a space of time as possible.

He began to rise earlier in
the mornings and was already well into the day’s work when his staff arrived on
site and on the days where he had to work for his Father, he would put in a few
hours gardening work before going to the office, often working by the light of
the spotlights he had hired to extend the winter working day and washing and
changing into his suit in the men’s bathroom’s at Jensen Incorporated only to
return to site when the office closed and put in a few more hours before going
home.

His commitment to his job and
staff had the desired effect of making them work harder and he encouraged them
to make decisions and take responsibility for their own sections of the job. It
gave him immense pleasure to tell them that they were ahead of schedule and the
Council were prepared to pay a sizable bonus amount if they managed to complete
the job one month earlier than planned.