Trouble Triangle (Tyler's Trouble Trilogy) (25 page)

We all touched glasses in the center of the circle we formed. Debbie and I cocked our glasses back and took a drink. Our eyes were firmly locked on one another. She was a very desirable woman, and guilt gnawed at me for wanting her.

#

After gathering all the supplies, I headed over to Debbie's room Friday night. She answered the door and posed for me to admire her in my favorite blue halter top and white shorts that barely covered her unmentionables. She wore her blonde hair in pigtails. She was the epitome of cute and sexy in one go. This was going to be some night if I could get past the wrongfulness of it all.

Placing the twelve pack of beer and my rucksack on the table, I reached in and fished out the goodies. A spray can of whipped cream, a squeeze bottle of chocolate sauce, a small
punnet
of cherries. It dawned on me in the store that cherries, strategically placed, could add a whole new dimension to the word kink. Lastly, o
ut came a half bottle of vodka.

"Wow. You really pushed the boat out," Debbie said with a big smile. She grabbed a cherry and held it by the stem over her head. Tilting her head back, she held it just out of reach of her flicking tongue. Slowly, she lowered it onto her tongue and licked it. "What are you going to do with these?"

"The same thing you're doing to it." I moved in and held her in my arms, passionately kissing her. We ripped each
others
clothes off, and after laying her on the bed, I went to work with the whipped cream and chocolate sauce; spraying and pouring on her most intimate parts, then licking it off. She giggled and moaned.

We took turns pleasuring each other and had the most amazing sex. In between sessions, we drank and joked, and before long, we finished off the vodka and beer.

"Well that's a fine how-do-you-do," Debbie said, "You only brought enough booze for half a night. Lucky for you I got a stash."

She sauntered over to her closet butt-naked, bent over, and turned around with a bottle of Jack Daniel's in her hand.

"Oh, Debbie. Please, God, no. Not Jack Daniel's. Me and him aren't speaking."

She strolled back over to the bed, standing over me. She opened the bottle and poured some on her nipple.

"Here, taste that and maybe you and him will make up."

Her Jack-soaked tit was just a tongue length away. I had a lick and the next thing I knew, I had agreed to her pouring me out a glass of my very good friend Mister Daniel's.

All night long we alternated between shots of Jack and  shots of sex. By five AM, Jack and I were both emptied. Debbie and I fell into a deep, drunken sleep.

#

My crusty eyes slowly opened. With a pounding head and blurred vision, I attempted to focus on the clock. I couldn't make out the time. I tried something
a bit simpler. What day was it?

Saturday. Good, I'm wasn't late for work then. Tried the time again. Staring at the red glow, numbers began to become readable. One, one, one, one. Shit. Double vision again. I propped myself up on the bed, shook my head, closed one eye and refocused. One, one, one, two.

My mind clicked like gears churning. 11:12. Shit! I had to meet Holly's dad i
n forty-eight minutes.
Hung
over
as hell and late. Holly would kill me. I could just hear it.

"Daddy, this is my boyfriend, Tyler."

"I thought military people prided themselves on being punctual," the Reverend would comment.

"Well, sir, I had pre-
maritial
sex with your daughter's former lesbian lover last night. I would have been fine if I stopped after six beers and a few vodkas, but no. I had to go on to the fucking Jack Daniel's, didn't I?"

I shook my head then Debbie. "Debs, I
gotta
go."

She groaned and grabbed her head. "God, that was some night." She rubbed her eyes. "Where are you going?"

"I just
gotta
go. Something I forgot about."

"At least give me a farewell fuck. I always get horny when I'm
hungover
." She pulled me in by the back of the neck and kissed me. I managed to pull away from her grip.

"I really got to go. Sorry. Thanks for a great night. We'll do it again sometime. But next time don't invite that fucker Jack."

I got dressed and left. Running back to my room, I took a quick shower, changed clothes and ran to the bus stop. Bongo drums pounded in my head as I took the bus to Holly’s apartment. Being late would not make a good first impression.

Standing at her front door, I took a deep breath, then knocked.

I swallowed hard as the doorknob turned. My hangover had kicked in and was in full flight. The door flung open. Holl
y stood there looking panicked.

"Where have you been?" she whispered. "You should have been here half an hour ago."

"The bus was late." I moved closer to give her a kiss, but she backed away.

She stood back to let me enter the apartment. I crossed the threshold into the living room - and there he was. Larger than life. Although I had seen him on TV, Reverend Knight looked different in real life. He loomed large in the room at 6'4", white hair, and big wire rimmed glasses. He dressed in the Aloha spirit wearing white trousers and a tropical print Hawaiian shirt. There didn't appear to be an ounce of fat on his mid-fifty-year-old frame. His eyes assessed my entire being, moving his gaze from head to toe, while standing with his hands behind his back.

"Mr. Knight." I moved in with my hand extended. "What a pleasure to meet you, sir."

He thrust his hand out and grabbed mine. Before I could get my palm seated into his, he clamped his grip in an exaggerated show of firmness, pinching my fingers t
ogether. It hurt, but I smiled.

"Nice to meet you, son." His voice boomed just as it did on TV. "Holly hasn't told me much about you, so we have a lot to talk about. Sit." He pointed to the chair as he walked around to sit on the couch.

My head spun and my hands shook. I wasn't sure if the shaking frenzy came from nervousness or delirium tremen
s.

"I'll bring some iced tea over," Holly said and went into the kitchen.

"I always thought you military people prided yourself on being punctual."

"My apologies, sir. I had some urgent business to tend to on base. Those submarines don't fix themselves."
I chuckled.

He didn't.

"That's quite a nasty cut you have on your head. How'd that happen?"

"Smashed it on a submarine hatch. Those
da—rn
things are so tight. Hazard of the job."

His eyes narrowed. "Must you use profanity?"

Darn
? This was going to be one long afternoon. "Sorry, sir. Tough day."

"So tell me, Tyler is an unusual first name. What's the story on that?" He leaned back, fully extending his size.

I cleared my throat. "My mom says she's a descendant of John Tyler, you know, the tenth President. It's actually John Tyler Chambers, but my dad said he's not having his kid named after a toilet. So I've never gone by John, it's always been Tyler."

I had hoped he'd find my story amusing, but he sat there stone faced.

"Humph," he grunted. "Holly tells me you outrank her."

"Only by military standards."
I laughed.

He didn't.

"You look younger than her. How'd you move up the ranks so quick?"

"I'm older than I look. I inherited my dad's genes. All the Chambers men look younger than we really are."

Holly came in with the tea, put the tray on the coffee table and handed us each a glass. I lifted my glass toward Mr. Knight.

"Cheers."

He cast a disapproving look my way. "I'd appreciate it if you didn't make alcohol related comments to beverages I consume."

My hangover intensified. This guy was going to be hard work, and I wasn't even in top form. I took a sip of iced tea and moved to place my glass back on the coffee table. My hand visibly shook as the ice clattered around the inside of the glass. It sounded like a mini-
drumroll
as I
placed the glass on the table.

Mr. Knight raised an eyebrow as he watched my struggle.

Holly sat down next to her father. "Daddy asked if you were coming to his sermon tomorrow. I told him you wouldn't miss it."

I shook my head. "Not for the world. I've been looking forward to it ever since Holly told me you were coming out," I said, looking at him. I leaned forward in my chair. "What's the topic, or is that a secret?"

"God doesn't have secrets." He scowled. "I think it's important to send a message to the youth of today. Ever since that actor got in the White House, the moral fiber of the United States has been eroding. The generation of today doesn't understand the importance of the family unit." His voice rose as he went into preaching mode, which didn't help my pounding head.

"They need to understand that sex outside of marriage is not acceptable. Lust is generated straight from Satan's veins.
Marriage should be honored by all, and the marriage bed kept pure, for God will judge the adulterer and all the sexually immoral
. Hebrews 13:4."

"What about homosexuality?"

The room fell silent. Holly's jaw dropped and her eyes went as big as hula hoops. Reverend Knight's nostrils flared as he took short, sharp breaths through his nose. Anger deeply etched on his face. His eyes tore through me. He slid himself to the edge of the couch.

He slammed his fist onto the coffee table, sending  Holly's glass of iced tea in the air. "Damnation," he yelled, "awaits the sinners engaged in such practices. Women who lay down with other women and do not use their body to bear fruit as the Lord intended, shall perish in the fiery flames of hell." He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket, took off his glasses and wiped his face. "Men…well, I'd rather not think about that."

Holly ran into the kitchen and got a towel to wipe up the spilled tea.

"Sorry, Princess," he said softly.

Holly wiped up the puddle on the table with a dish rag.

"You know how I get worked up about thes
e subjects," the Reverend said.

Holly patted his leg. "It's okay, Daddy, I know you're totally passionate about these things." She looked at me, and it wasn't the look of a happy girlfriend. "Tyler, can you help me in the kitchen?"

"Sure. W
ill you excuse me, Mr. Knight?"

He waved his free hand around and kept patting his face with the hanky.

Holly stood with her hands on her hips and fire in her eyes when I came in. "What the hell are you playing at?" she whispered.

"I was taking an interest in his profession." I poked a finger toward her face. "And you better watch it, you just said a cuss word."

"I'm warning you, buster." She jabbed my chest with her finger. "Anymore cracks like that and I'm going to be totally super mad at you and may never speak to you again. You promised to behave." She reached in the fridge and handed me the jug of iced tea. "Go fill Daddy's glass up and be nice to him. Lunch will be ready in a few minutes."

"Sorry."

I returned to the living room and topped up Mr. Knight's glass. I sat down and we both looked around the room, not speaking. It was slightly uncomfortable, but I didn't want to set him off again and send him into another rant disguised as a sermon.

Holly quietly walked behind her father on her way to the bathroom. She shot me a dirty look and moved her hand in a talk gesture, then thumbed toward her Dad.

"So, Mr. Knight, Holly tells me you're a Shakespeare fan."

A broad smile crossed his face. "Ah, yes. That's one thing the British gave us. A literary genius. I thought Hamlet was his best work, but I enjoy it all."

"Yes, Hamlet, of course," I said. "But my personal favorite is
Love's
Labour's
Lost
.

'Study is like the heaven's glorious sun,

That will not be deep-searched with saucy looks;

Small have continual plodders ever won,

Save base authority from others' books.

These earthly godfathers of Heaven's lights

That give a name to every fixed star,

Have no more profit of their shining nights

Than those that walk and
wot
not what they are'."

Mr. Knight stared at me opened mouth. Not very subtle. "I'm impressed.
Love's
Labour's
Lost
is an obscure choice as a favorite. You must have studied him intensely."

"Probably nowhere near as well as you, but yeah, I'm a big fan.
Labour's
Love
was never the critics' favorite, but I quite enjoy it."

"You guys will have to put a hold on Shakespeare," Holly interrupted. "Lunch is served." She led the way to the dining table and we all sat down.