Authors: Amy Malone
Chapter Six
Tammy Thompson drove away from the church, feeling accomplished. She, of course, hadn’t actually forgotten her cell phone, but needed an easy way to go digging for information locally. And it had paid off. What were the odds that she would run into that sweet little thing on a bike? Alana was gorgeous, at least. If Mark was going to sleep with other women, at least they should be attractive women. There’s nothing more offensive than news that your husband has been
porking the chubby maid. Though, truth be told, she’d had a pool boy or two in her day.
Taking her cell out from the glove compartment, Tammy dialed Roscoe as she drove. She didn’t actually like Roscoe, but he was good at his job. Good enough for her to feign politeness. He picked up on the other end.
“Hello there, Tam. It’s been awhile. What can I do for ya?” Tammy was once again reminded of how much she hated being called ‘Tam’ by anyone but Mark. She soldiered on.
“Hi there, Roscoe!” she said, nearly sick with her feigned excitement.
“I was wondering if you could do something for me?”
“Anything for you, beautiful,” he said from the other end. Coming from Roscoe, it was more lascivious than charming. Tammy shuddered.
“I need you to look up a name for me. Alana Alcock.”
“Will do, sugar.
Anything else?”
“No Roscoe. That’ll be all. I’ve got to go, but call me when you have something.”
“Aw, leavin’ already? Okay, sugar plum, I’ll get it for ya soon as I can. Don’t you worry, ‘ole Roscoe never fails.”
You’d better not, Roscoe,
Tammy thought.
Tammy pulled up to her hotel,
never having intended to go to the local restaurant. She had too much thinking to do and didn’t want to be distracted by locals trying to make nice with the new black chick. She’d order in. Besides, she only had a week to figure this out. That was important. She’d told Mark a week, and if she couldn’t resolve this before then, she’d be forced to leave and hope things fell apart for Mark here. Or, at least that they stayed in the air long enough for her to make another play.
Mark Thompson awoke to find himself blinking at the rays of an evening sun. After his morning bourbon, he’d gone to his grandfather’s backyard hammock to relax and take a nap. Luckily, he’d fallen asleep before he’d had enough of the liquor to make him feel hung over, now.
He sauntered into the house, wondering what he should do with what was left of his day.
Well, first things first. I need a shower.
After choosing a t-shirt and jeans, he got the water started in the shower upstairs in his grandfather’s room. As he washed over himself, he began to relax a little, thinking more clearly. Tammy wasn’t an actual problem. Years of maneuvering in their relationship had made him paranoid. It was more likely that she was just upset that he was finally over her. True, for her to come this far was a bit crazy, but she’d told him she’d be gone by the end of the week. Mark was sure her pride and vanity wouldn’t let her stay in town longer than she had said. And after all, how much harm could she do in a few days.
He liked Alana. No, he didn’t know exactly what it meant or where it was going, but that was part of the appeal. This town was a place where people could just
live day by day. In the big city, full of appointments, and obligations, and social engagements, that just wasn’t possible.
After he got out of the shower, Mark called Alana for the third time. On the other end, Alana eyed the phone suspiciously as she watched it ring, finally deciding to pick up.
“Hello, Mark,” she said a little standoffishly.
“Hello, Alana. Listen, I’m sorry I cancelled on you yesterday. I had something pop on me by surprise. Trust
me, I really wanted to go eat with you.”
“What ‘popped up’?” Alana asked it knowing the answer. She wanted to see if Mark would tell her the truth.
“Well, it’s complicated. To be honest, I really don’t want to involve you.”
Well, it’s not exactly the complete truth, but at least it isn’t a lie,
Alana thought.
“Mark, what are you doing right now?”
“Sitting at home, recovering from an afternoon nap. Why?”
“I’m coming over in an hour. Get some food in your house so I can cook because, unless something’s changed, I know you can’t.”
Mark smirked on the other end of the phone, trying not to reveal his excitement neither to Alana nor to himself.
When Alana walked up the stairs to Mark’s grandfather’s place (though, she supposed, it was now his place and she should treat it as such) she could hear the soft serenade of
bossa nova music lilting in the lazy afternoon.
She brought a bottle of wine, hoping that Mark had gotten simple ingredients with which an actual meal could be made.
If I’m cooking it, the least he can do is shop. This is
his
apology after all.
She knocked softly on the door, but hearing no response, tried the knob. It was open.
Immediately she heard sounds coming from the kitchen. There was also a delicious smell wafting through the house. She smiled. Just what was Mark up to?
The scene in kitchen made Alana burst into laughter. First, the counter was covered in pieces of greens and bits of flour. Second, so were Mark’s hands and face. But his expression was really the best part. Here he was, this lion of a man, a billionaire who wielded power and determined destinies, proud of himself for having cooked a simple meal for two. She supposed his normal life hadn’t really allowed for cooking lessons. On the other hand she’d been busy too, and she’d managed. Either way she was curious, if not a little concerned, about what the meal would taste like. It looked to be mashed potatoes, greens, and pork chops. Alana’s favorite meal, and one her aunt had prepare for her often during her visits.
Alana helped Mark clean the kitchen, wiping the counter and Mark’s hands and face with a clean kitchen rag. She gave him a light kiss on the cheek.
“Thanks handsome. You know, I might just accept this apology of yours.”
“Who says I’m apologizing?” he said. Alana
gave him an expression that read “don’t push your luck,” and Mark laughed and relented.
They prepared their plates, poured their glasses of wine, and moved outside to have their meal. There was a small table on the patio that their grandfather had used to play poker with neighbors after church, usually for money.
Poker after church. Mark smiled wryly. He missed his grandfather.
They enjoyed their dinner together as the sun set. Alana was surprised to find that Mark had actually done a good job. The mashed potatoes were made with parmesan and garlic, and the pork chops and greens were cooked to perfection. When Alana asked him how he’d done such a good job (especially since he was and had always been a klutz in the kitchen) his answer was simple:
“Youtube on my smartphone.”
At which they both laughed.
After dinner they put the dishes in the dish washer and sat on the couch, finishing their bottle of wine, talking, and listening to music. Alana snuggled into Mark’s arm for the second time that week, surprising him yet again.
No, Mark. You shouldn’t play games with Alana. If you care about her, then act like it. This is just friendly intimacy.
“So, what is this situation that you can’
t talk about, Mark?” she asked.
Mark sighed, realizing he wouldn’t be able to avoid it any longer.
“My ex-wife’s in town,” he said, bracing for her reaction.
Well, there’s goes our nice little evening,
he thought. Which is why what he said next surprised him so much.
“I met her in town.”
Mark was shocked. How had Tammy even found Alana? It was just his luck.
“How?”
“At the church. She was at a service.”
Mark’s blood went cold. Tammy was not the religious sort. If she was at the church then, more than likely, she was rooting around for information.
If she was rooting around for information, then more than likely it was because she was making some sort of play. Tammy liked making plays.
“Mark. Would you mind if I took a quick shower?”
“No. Not at all. Go for it,” he said. “There’s a clean towel on the rack already. If you need anything else, let me know.”
Alana thanked him and gave him a kiss on the cheek.
Alana enjoyed a luxurious shower in the bathroom in Mark’s room. She washed the suds of some shampoo and some other body was over herself, enjoying the feeling. She’d showered that morning, but since her primary mode of transportation was a bike until she got around to going to a dealership, she’d found showering several times a day to be a good idea.
She was in no hurry to get a car, though. Life was delightful and simple, the way it had been before she had so much stuff.
Before all the stuff had her. It was nice to start from nothing but a very large sum of money in her bank account and distributed throughout several investments in real estate, and stocks. She felt free for the first time in a very long time.
As Alana ran her hands over herself and through her hair, she thought of Mark and the real reason she was taking this shower. She had felt her need there, cuddling with him, and it had been strong. Now her entire body tingled with the need to be kissed, caressed, licked, teased, touched, and yes, cuddled more.
Alana turned off the shower and grabbed the towel from the nearby rack.
While Alana was showering, Mark took the time to get some business done. He’d come out here to get a break from everything, including work. But deep down, he’d known that eventually getting to work would become too tempting. So,
he’d brought a laptop just in case.
He brought the computer with him to the kitchen, setting in on the counter to start a pot of coffee
. He looked over graphs and annual reports, emailing certain people with answers to their questions, ignoring other emails, forwarding still others to departments and chairs and heads of such and such. Mostly, being a leader was about coordination, trust, and enforcement. The last thing was the hardest. While you didn’t need to be a cruel enforcer, sometimes your foot simply needed to go down, and someone needed the book thrown at them.
Mark was just sipping on his second cup of coffee, taking a small break to look through his RSS feed, when he heard Alana call from his room.
“Mark, could you come here a second?”
Mark put his cup of coffee down. Had he forgotten to put fresh towels on the rack? When he got to the room it wasn’t the towel’s rack he was concerned with.
There in his bed stark naked lie Alana, her perfect breasts greeting him cheerfully. Alana smiled brightly, enjoying the thrill of her naughty behavior. A smirk crawled across Mark’s face. He could sit here and watch her all day. Fortunately, he wouldn’t have to.
He leaped into bed next to her, the soft springy mattress bouncing them both. They kissed intensely. Mark moved his hand lightly across her belly, remembering the smooth feel of her skin. Mark stiffened under Alana’s touch over his pants, groaning as she impatiently slipped her hand in them. She rolled her hand over his cock as felt it twitch in
pleasure. She tried to reach down to cup his balls, but couldn’t reach that far inside his jeans.
“Take off your pants,” she said.
“Your wish is my command, beautiful,” he said smiling. His shirt, pants, and underwear came off in quick succession, and Alana’s mouth watered at his body. She felt her need intensify at the sight of his cock and bare chest.
“My cock misses your sweet little lips,” he said pulling her up gently by the arm, lower her head to its destination. She cooed. One hand cupped his balls, rolling them like Chinese meditation balls as her mouth slowly slid over the head of his shaft, once
again savoring his horny scent and salty flavor.
Suckling his cock as it throbbed in her mouth, Mark guided her gently down the shaft, letting her work her way to wet every inch, every centimeter. He smiled down at her lovely face, her eyes closing in pleasure at one moment, and opening to look at up at his groaning face.
“God, you look so gorgeous on my cock right now. It was made for that sweet mouth.”
She hummed her exuberant assent to this, putting her hands behind her back and letting Mark have his way with her mouth, humping as he thrust her head down. Her tits shook back and forth in tight little bounces, brushing against his leg as her full lips slid down to the hilt,
and suckling. The suckle noises almost made Mark finish.
He pulled her off, a little of him dribbling out of her mouth. Alana swallowed the rest dutifully, wanting to take every precious drop of him in one way or another.
“On all fours, little dove. I need to taste your musk before I fuck you roughly.”
Alana’s body was taut with anticipation as she turned around and obediently got on all fours, raising her perfect ass for Mark’s enjoyment as she lay her head on the pillow.
Mark gave a sigh of pleasure as he lowered to her musky garden, lapping her lightly. Alana arched her back as she pressed deeply into his face, giving herself to his tongue’s exploration. He messages her both cheeks of her bottom as he drank her, his tongue dancing along her sacred expanse like a desperate eel. Her face contorted in the agony of orgasm over and over, her whole body exploding with a pleasure so intense she thought she might faint. That was when he stopped.