That Man 3 (8 page)

“Hello, officer,” I said with as much coolness as I could muster.

He furrowed his brows. “Is there a problem here?”

“N-no,” I stuttered. Bullshit. There was a problem. A biggie. My cock and balls were
fucking killing me.

He flashed a crooked smile. “Good. Then, I’ll be on my way. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, officer
.” Asswipe.

The cop sped off in his patrol car and I turned to face Jennifer. She had her hand
clasped over her mouth and then burst into another clap of laughter. She was laughing
so hard she was crying.

“That wasn’t funny,” I grumbled.

“It was!” She could barely get the words out.

Fuming, I drew her close to me by her scarf. “You owe me a blow job.”

Still laughing, her watering eyes lit up like lanterns. “I’ll think about it.”

Man, she was pissing me off more. I was quickly learning my tiger was a feisty one.
I might have to tame her. Well, at least, I had something to look forward to.

She held my gaze in hers. That little dimpled smile curled on her upturned lips. Fuck,
she was beautiful. Unable to resist, I smacked my lips one more time against hers
and took off.

*

There wasn’t much to do in downtown Boise. Being Christmas Day, virtually everything
was closed. The one thing we could do was go to the movies. I wanted to see
The Wolf of Wall Street
with Leonardo DiCaprio; she wanted to see
Frozen.
A fucking Disney cartoon. Guess who won? Wrong. She did. I was giving into her every
need and whim. I was seriously in love with her.

The theater was packed with parents and kids. Holding hands, we scanned the dozens
of rows for two seats together. I took in the crowd and wondered—would this be us
in a few years? A married couple taking their kids to a movie on Christmas Day. A
passing woman holding a toddler made me think of the day Jennifer and I had lunch
with my pal Jaime and his twins. She was great with those babies. I turned to look
at her. Yeah. She was going to make one damn good mother, and our babies were going
to be fucking perfect.

We finally found two seats in the very back of the theater bordering the aisle. I
told Jennifer to save my seat while I went to the concession stand to get some popcorn
and Cokes. It’d been a long time since I’d been on a movie date with a girl. That’s
not what I did with hook-ups, who only escorted me to glamorous premiers.

The concession lines were long, filled with irritated parents and whiny kids. As I
impatiently waited my turn, a funny thought crossed my mind. I bet cheapskate Dickwick
made her buy her own popcorn and soda. And probably her movie ticket too. I snickered
silently. Those days were over. Ancient history.

When I got back inside the theater, the movie had just started. The lights were down
and the opening title sequence was playing. I lowered myself to the seat on the aisle
and handed Jennifer a Coke. “Thanks,” she whispered, her eyes glued to the big screen.

I held the big tub of popcorn in my lap and nibbled on some kernels. My mind was distracted.
What the fuck did you do with a girl at the movies? Vague recollections of my junior
high school days came back. You held her hand. And at some point, you made out with
her. And if you were really lucky, you got a hand job and came home with some pussy
on your pinky.

Okay. So, I held her hand. It was soft and warm. She didn’t resist. So far so good.
She reached into the bucket of popcorn and grabbed a handful. I watched as she popped
one kernel at time into her mouth. She reached for another handful. And then another.
Balls. It was going to be hard to make out with her if she was going to be eating
popcorn the whole time.

Despite myself, I actually found myself getting into the movie. It was about this
feisty girl who reminded me a lot of Jennifer and featured this hilarious snowman
named Olaf that made me think of the one we’d built earlier in the day. And the CGI
animation was pretty amazing. Cartoons had come a long way since
Mickey Mouse
.

In the middle of the movie, I heard Jennifer sniffling. I turned to look at her and
tears were streaming down her cheeks. The song “Let It Go” was playing. Sung by the
conflicted princess sister, it was about her adventurous journey of finding herself
and letting go of the past.

“What’s the matter, baby?” I whispered in Jen’s ear.

She squeezed my hand and met my gaze. It was the first time her eyes had left the
screen.

“Blake, would you tell me you love me again and kiss me?”

My heart melted like chocolate. I cradled her face in my hands and gave her the kind
of kiss you only saw in movies. A lingering mixture of hard and soft. Sensuous and
rough. Our cheeks touched and her hot tears heated my face. Our lips fit perfectly
together. The lyrics of the song sounded in my head. There was no going back for my
tiger. And there was no going back for me. The past was in the past.

The movie ended and the lights came back on. The theater emptied. But neither Jennifer
nor I moved. Our mouths were locked. I was still kissing my brave, complicated tiger.

An usher’s voice asking us to leave finally forced me to pull away. I gazed at Jen’s
beautiful tear-streaked face, and though I had a serious boner, she was all that mattered
to me.

Still cupping her face in my hands, I said the words she needed to hear. “I love you,
Jennifer McCoy.”

She smiled.

*

When we got back to Jennifer’s house, her parents were back from their afternoon visit
with the Joneses. It was a little after four. Jen’s father was in his favorite chair,
reading the Shakespeare anthology Jennifer had given him for Christmas. I was pleased
to see the cashmere blanket I’d bought draped over his legs.

The fireplace was crackling, and the air smelled sweet and delicious. Mrs. McCoy must
be baking something. She was one hell of a cook.

“Hi, Dad,” Jennifer said brightly as we headed into the living room. We’d left our
outerwear and snowy boots in the entryway.

Harold looked up from his book. He lifted his reading glasses onto his head, and a
warm smile spread on his face. “You kids have a fun this afternoon?”

Twinkly-eyed Jennifer told him she’d taken me on a tour of Boise and to see a movie.

“Which one?”

Before either of us could answer, Mrs. McCoy waltzed into the living room. She was
wearing a floral apron and holding a tray with a platter of cookies and two mugs on
it. The delicious aroma wafted in the air.

“I baked chocolate chip cookies and made some hot chocolate,” she said with a big
smile. She set the tray down on the large coffee table in front of the couch.

“Oh, Blake. You must have one of my mother’s cookies. They’re the best in the world.”
She led me to the couch where we both sat down. Jennifer lifted one of the big cookies
to my lips. “Try it.”

I bit into it and thought I’d gone to heaven. It was warm, chocolately, and just the
right chewy consistency. The perfect chocolate chip cookie. I moaned and finished
it off.

“Mmm. Unbelievable… can I please have another?”

Mrs. McCoy was beaming. Obviously, the way to her heart was through flattery. “Of
course, dear. Have as many as you wish.”

For the next fifteen minutes, Jen and I feasted on the scrumptious melt-in-your-mouth
cookies and hot chocolate while the McCoys recounted their afternoon with the Joneses.
I flicked a crumb off Jennifer’s lips—a small, endearing action that was not missed
by her father. He winked at me.

When we had consumed everything, Mrs. McCoy cleared the table. “Blake, dear, I hope
you’ll be staying for dinner. I’m making something from the cookbook Jennifer bought
me. Chicken fajitas.”

Jen looked at me beseechingly. The truth: I didn’t want to leave her, but I hadn’t
really thought much about the rest of my stay. I didn’t think it was a good idea to
spend the night here again and overextend it. Plus, staying at a hotel in town might
prove to be very sexy. I could fuck Jennifer’s brains out in a big king-sized bed
without the worry of her parents invading our privacy. There was also the Jacuzzi
tub.
Mhmm.

“Stay, Blake,” Jen begged. Lust danced in her green eyes.

“Okay,” I conceded. I thanked Mrs. McCoy for her generosity, but told her I would
be heading to The Grove Hotel after dinner.

“Are you sure, Blake?” asked Mrs. McCoy. “We’d love to have you stay another night.”

“Yeah. I have a reservation there.”
Stick to the plan.

Disappointment fell over Jen’s face. The truth: I was going to miss her tonight as
much as she was going to miss me. Maybe we could figure out a way to have a discreet
quickie before I left. Or I could invite her to the hotel for an après dinner drink
and then some.

As I stood up to head to my room and freshen up for dinner, my cell phone rang. I
slid it out of my jeans pocket and looked at the screen. It was my Las Vegas affiliate
manager, Vera Nichols. She was probably calling just to wish me Merry Christmas.

“Excuse me. I’ve got take this.”

The call was not what I was expecting. I could feel the blood drain from my body as
Vera’s voice faded.
Jesus fucking Christ!

“I’ll get there as fast as I can,” I said and ended the call.

“Blake, is everything okay?” asked Jennifer. Her eyes flickered with concern.

“I’m sorry, everyone. I can’t stay. I’ve got to fly to Vegas to handle a crisis.”

“What’s going on?” Jen’s rosebud lips curved into a frown.

“Nothing you need to know about.” She looked hurt.

There was no way I was going to tell her Don Springer had beaten up SIN-TV producer
Eddie Falcon to within an inch of his life. Springer. That fucking bastard who’d almost
raped her.

Two hours later, I was on the six o’clock United flight heading to Vegas.

Blake

T
he plane touched down at McCarran airport at nine thirty, a few minutes before our
scheduled arrival time. I immediately found a cab and headed to Sunrise Hospital where
Eddie had been taken. After dropping my bags and skis off with reception, I met Vera
in the waiting room outside the intensive care unit. She leapt from her chair and
gave me a hug.

“Oh, Blake. Thank you for coming.”

“How’s he doing?”

“He was badly beaten up. A couple of fractured ribs, a puncture to one of his lungs,
and a concussion. He was in surgery for three hours to repair his lung.”

Fuck.
“Where did the attack take place?”

“Right outside his house. Springer followed him home.”

There was only one more thing I desperately needed to know. “Did they catch him?”

“Not yet. There’s a manhunt out for him.”

“The fucker!” I growled. I wanted to find him myself and give him what he deserved.

Casually dressed in jeans and a Christmassy snowman sweater, Vera looked weary. She
should be home with her family celebrating Christmas. “Are you okay?” I asked.

She ran her hand through her short blond hair and blew out a sharp breath. “Yeah.
But it’s been a stressful day.” She sat back down. I lowered myself onto the armchair
next to hers and joined her.

“How’s your family?”

“They’re good. I’m just sorry I couldn’t spend the rest of Christmas Day with them.”

A dark thought crossed my mind. If Springer was on the loose, Vera and her family
might be in danger. “Vera, I want you and your family to have around-the-clock police
protection.”

She held my gaze fierce in her toffee eyes. The thought had crossed her mind too.
Springer was a sicko. There was no telling what he was capable of.

“The police aren’t willing to do that. There’s been no direct threat to me or my family.”
She chewed down on her lip. She was clearly worried.

“Forget the police. I’ll set up private surveillance.”

“But, Blake, that’ll cost so much money. I can’t afford that.”

“Don’t worry about the money. The company will pay for it. I need you, Vera.” I couldn’t
bear to lose her and would be devastated if anything happened to her or her family.