Big Daddy Sinatra 3: The Best of My Love (The Sinatras of Jericho County) (2 page)

The
front door was wide open, where their father had already gone before, and
Charles hurried out of that door too.
 
His father was walking toward his truck, to make a run for it even
though he said he was convinced no jury in Jericho County was going to convict
him.
 
But like the snake he was, Charles
thought, he was running anyway.
 

Luke
would have never dreamed he would be tracked down just outside of his own front
door.
 
And tracked down by his own
son.
 
He was just about to open the door to
his truck, and get away forever if he could, when Charles hurried behind him
and pointed that shotgun as if he aimed to use it.
 
Charles began moving slowly toward his
father.
 
Sprig and Mick ran outside
behind him, but they stayed back as Charles moved forward.
 
Even this scene, of Charles pointing a gun at
their father, was otherworldly to them.

It
was even more surreal to Luke.
 
He was
stunned by this display.
 
He looked at
his son with puzzlement, anger, and bitterness in his big, bloodshot eyes.
 
“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked
him.

“You
killed her,” Charles said.
 
His heart was
pounding so hard he could hear it as loudly as he could hear drums against his
ear.

Luke
continued to stare at the barrel of that gun.
 
“What are you doing?” he asked his son again.

“You
killed my mother!” Charles screamed.

“Fuck
your mother!” Luke screamed back.
 
“She
betrayed me!
 
What did you think I was
going to do?”

“But
you didn’t have to kill her!” Tears were dropping down Charles’s face.
 
He hated that he was crying, but like
everything else tonight, he couldn’t stop himself.
 

“Put
that gun down, Charles,” Luke warned.

“You
took her away from us.”
 
Charles wiped
the tears away.
 
Then he frowned.
 
He knew he had to keep his composure.
 
“You took her away.”

“I’m
not telling you again boy.
 
Put it down,
Charles.”

“I
can’t.
 
I’m not putting it down.”

“You
heard me boy!”

No!”
Charles yelled.
 
He was not going to obey
tonight.
 
“You killed her!
 
You killed our mother.
 
Our
mother
!
 
You can’t just walk away from something like
that!”

“This
has nothing to do with you!
 
Nothing!
 
Now get your ass back in
that house and get back in there now!
 
And take Sprig and Mick with you.
 
I mean it, Charles!
 
Get back in
that house.
 
I’ve got to go.”
 

Luke
began to open the door of his truck in total disregard of his son.
 
He was getting away from there and he was
getting away now.
 
But Charles pumped
that shotgun without hesitation and fired a bullet within an inch of Luke
Sinatra’s dusty old boot.
 

Luke
jumped as if he had ants in his pants, and looked at his son.
 
He was beyond stunned.
 
“What in the sand hell do you think you’re
doing?
 
You just shot at me!”

“Sprig,”
Charles said to his sister as he continued to aim that gun at his father, “call
the police.”

“You
stay right where you are, Sprig,” her father ordered, pointing at her.

“Call
the police, Sprig,” her brother urged again.

“Don’t
you dare, Sprig,” her father ordered.

And
Sprig just stood there.
 
Torn between her
father, whom she loved but feared, and the brother she loved.
 
Stunned too.

Then
Charles yelled, “
Sprig
!” and it shook
his sister’s attention.
 
“Get the police
here and get them here now!
 
He killed
our mother.
 
We can’t let him get away
with that!”

And
in the spur of that moment, Sprig decided to cast her lot with Charles.
 
She took off running into the house.
 

Poor
little Mick.
 
He was unsure if he should
run behind his big sister or stay with his big brother.
 
He decided on Charles.
 
He stayed put.

But
Charles kept that gun on his father.
 
He
didn’t trust his father to do the right thing.

Luke
kept his eyes on Charles.
 
He didn’t
trust his son to do the wrong thing.

It
was not fair, but life for Charles Sinatra and his siblings changed forever
that night in Jericho.
 
Charles was only
thirteen, but he had grit.
 
Somebody in
that family had to have it.
 
Given Mick’s
youth and Sprig’s immaturity, Charles didn’t feel he had a choice.
 
His mother was dead.
 
His mother’s lover was dead.
 
And before the year was out his father,
proven wrong again, would be sentenced to Life in prison without the
possibility of parole.
 
By a jury in
Jericho County.
 
But even that didn’t
ease the pain.
 
His father took his
mother away from him.
 
His mother was
dead.
 
That could never be avenged.

And
years later, when people would believe that his father was dead too, although
his father was still very much alive, Charles would never disabuse them of
their belief.
 
When they would assume
that Salvatore Luciano Sinatra, better known as Luke, had died in prison
because his son never again so much as mentioned his name, Charles would never
correct their false assumption.
 
Because
he was dead to Charles.
 
Because on that
night in 1974, his father had a choice to make, and he chose to kill his wife.

But
Charles Sinatra was not given a choice.
 
He couldn’t weigh his options because there were no options to
weigh.
 
He had to hold his own father to
account.
 
From that day onward, he would
hold himself and everybody else, no matter who they were, to account too.
 

He
became a man that night.
  

A
hard, ruthless, merciless man.

September 13, 2010

One more hour
, he thought as he stood in the
shower stall and splayed his hands against the tiles.
 
The warm water careened all over his tanned body
and puddled beneath his feet. Charles Sinatra was not a morning person.
 
He would give anything right now if he could
lay across his bed for just one more hour.
 
But he couldn’t.
 
He had to settle
a tenant dispute that just erupted, and he had to meet Jenay for some major
meeting with a new competitor across town.
 
There was no more hours left.

He
stepped out of the shower and grabbed the towel off the rack.
  
But just as he began to dry his face, a
familiar voice said, “I can’t believe you’re up,” and he stopped mid-wipe.
 
And he walked over to his bathroom’s open
door and looked into the master bedroom.
 
It was his wife, Jenay, who had left for work some four hours earlier, sitting
on the edge of the bed.
 
She had on a
mauve-colored skirt suit, a pair of matching heels, and had her crossed leg
shaking.
 
Charles looked down at her
toned dark-brown thighs and that unseen gap between her legs he knew so
well.
 
Then he looked up at her
beautiful, smiling face. “What are you doing back here?” he asked her.

“I
was certain I would have to wake you up so you would be on time for that
meeting.
 
I’m stunned you’re up already.”

“See?”
Charles said with an attractive smile of his own.
 
He continued to dry his naked body as he
walked further into their huge bedroom.
 
“I told you I’m full of surprises.”

“Surprise
indeed,” she said.
 
“I thought I’d have a
hell of a time getting you up.
 
But
you’re up already.
 
I am impressed.”
 
Then she had another thought.
 
“Don’t tell me you’re that worried?”

Charles
frowned.
 
“Worried about what?”

“What?
 
The meeting with Matt Dellum, Charles.
 
His bed and breakfast could give ours a run
for its money, there’s no doubt about that.
 
I’m thinking he wants to meet with us to see if we’d be open to some
kind of merger.”

“Yeah,
that’s what I’m thinking too.
 
But he’s
wasting his time.”

“Wasting
it big time,” Jenay agreed.
 
“All that
work my staff and I put into turning Jericho Inn around.
 
He can forget that.
 
But if it’s not about the meeting, why are
you already up?”

Charles
was at his underwear drawer.
 
“I can’t
get up early every now and then without some major reason?”

“Early,
Charlie?
 
Only you would think that ten
o’clock in the morning is early.
 
You and
maybe Brent.
 
And the answer to your
question is no, you can’t get up early every now and then because you never get
up early every now and then.”

Charles
laughed.
 
She knew him too well.
 
“I received an urgent phone call. I need to
see a tenant before the meeting.”

“To
get him signed in?”

“To
kick her ass out,” Charles said.
 
“Yet another
bleeding heart cop refuses to do his job and serve the eviction.
 
I’ve got to do it myself.”

“Now
that’s a shame,” Jenay said.
 
“I thought
Brent told me he was going to change that policy when he became chief of
police, and he’s been chief for over two months already.
 
He knows his men aren’t supposed to call you
to do their jobs for them.
 
It’s their
job to execute those vacate orders.”

“I
know.
 
But none of them have the balls to
do so.
 
They’re too close to my
tenants.
 
They don’t have the heart to
throw them out.”
 

Jenay
leaned back, with her two hands spread with palm down behind her, giving her
body some leverage.
 
But it was a move
that caused Charles to be more aware of that fantastic body of hers.
 
He looked down again, at her legs and that gap
between them, and up at her sizeable breasts.

“Funny
thing is,” she said, unaware of the sudden changed expression on his face,
“they think they’re all heart and you’re the heartless one.
 
They figure, since you don’t care, kicking
out tenants is a piece of cake for you.”

“That’s
what they think,” he said, as he began drying off his dick.
 
“And it is a piece of cake when tenants don’t
hold up their end of the bargain.
 
But I
care.”
 

He
continued to stare at his wife’s body, and to dry off his already dried off
penis.
 
“Nice get up,” he finally said.

Jenay
looked down, where his eyes had roamed, at her nice-fitting skirt suit.
 
“Thanks.
 
I like it too.
 
Don’t you
remember?
 
You bought it for me when you
were in New York last summer, which I thought was so sweet.
 
The idea that Big Daddy Sinatra would take
time out of his packed schedule just to go shopping for clothes for me, blew me
away.
 
I still like the thought of that.”
 
But when she looked back up smiling, and saw
that Charles was no longer drying his penis, but was actually rubbing it, and
it was already stiffening, she realized why he made such a comment.
 
It had nothing to do with the clothing she
wore, and everything to do with what was beneath the clothing.

She
began shaking her head.
 
“Don’t even
think about it, Charlie.”

He
began walking toward her.

“What
are you doing?” she asked, sitting up straight again.
 
“I’m serious.
 
I also have to make a stop before that meeting with Dellum.”

“You
can give me some first.”
 
He was completely
up to her now, and completely aroused.
 
His dick was literally in her face.

“Charlie,”
she said, but her look lingered, not on his face, but on his extensive
extension.
 
And suddenly the impossible
became possible.
 
“There’s no time,” she
said as if she was rethinking it even as she said it.

Charles
knew her too well.
 
“Lick it,” he said in
a voice that now sounded sensual.

She
remembered how that very dick felt inside of her just last night, and how she
would love that feeling again.

“Lick
it,” he said again.

She
stared at his now stiff penis as it poked out like a massive finger pointing at
her.
 
Getting up and leaving, as she had
thought to do, was impossible now.

But
when she did as he instructed, and gave his shaft one long, sweet lick, kissing
it at the head, he took her by the shoulders, stood her up, and kissed her
instead.

She
could feel the stiffness of his erection against her stomach as he kissed
her.
 
Charles never did anything halfway
and although she knew he was probably still groggy, he was going all-out even
now.
 
He kissed her long and he kissed
her hard.
 
He lifted her skirt around her
waist, placed his hand inside her panties, and began to massage her as he
kissed her.
 

She
moaned as he massaged and kissed her.
 
He
groaned and rubbed his dick against her as he felt her vaginal juices begin to
pool around his fingers and make that thick-cream sound he loved to hear.
 
He knew when his dick entered her and his
pre-cum mixed with her wetness the sound was going to get even louder, and just
the thought of it turned him on even more.

He
took his second hand and massaged her tight ass as he kissed and fingered
her.
 
This was his woman, and the thought
that she was all his did things to his head.
 
Up top, his head couldn’t stop thinking about how fortunate he was.
 
He never dreamed, after that disaster of a
marriage he endured with his first wife, that he could ever find anybody to
love that deeply again.
 
Jenay’s heart
and courage and love itself surpassed his expectations by leaps and bounds.
 

And
down below, his other
head
was not
thinking at all, but was throbbing in anticipation of getting inside of
her.
 
He wanted her vaginal juices to
saturate his penis, creating those wonderful love sounds like a love song, and
give him that climax that always took him to another place.
 
And as he kissed her, and massaged her ass,
and fingered her clit, he knew it was time to go there.
 
He couldn’t wait.

He
pulled her panties down, and she, dutiful wife that she was, didn’t have to be
told.
 
She stepped out of them and kicked
them out of the way.
 
And he laid her on
her back on the bed, ready to enter her.
 
But when he saw that her ass was on the edge of the bed, and her legs
were now open so wide that he could see her wetness, he couldn’t resist.
 
He got on his knees.
 
But instead of licking her and taking it slow
and easy, he ate her.
 
He put his mouth
inside of her wetness and ate her hard.
 

“
Charlie
!”

She
squeezed the unmade bedding and nearly pulled it to the floor as he went down
on her with a ferocity that took her near her breaking point.
 
But he didn’t break her.
 
He reserved that pleasure for his dick and
his dick alone.

He
stood up and, without preamble, thrust his dick inside of her.

She
lifted again, at the impact of his thrust alone, and then leaned back down and
settled into Charles’s expert rhythm.
 
He
unbuttoned her jacket and her blouse and sucked her breasts as he fucked
her.
 
He moved her further onto the bed,
laid down on top of her, and took them to that edge-of-cum sexiness that both
of them loved.
 
They had places to go and
people to see, but they didn’t care.
 
They were going to enjoy this.
 

Charles
had an overactive libido, where he seemed to want it almost all the time, but
she now realized just how much she was following in his footsteps.
 
He couldn’t get enough of her sex, but she
couldn’t get enough of his either.
 
She
used to think it would never happen.
 
She
didn’t think she could ever match his sexual prowess.
 
She used to joke that she married a rabbit,
not a man.
 
But the way she’d been acting
lately, he apparently married one too.
 

She
wrapped her arms around his naked body and allowed him to fuck her, and keep
her on that edge of cum, for as long as he could hold out.
 
And he always held out longer than any other
man she’d ever been with.

But
when it became too much, when holding out was about to become painful, he moved
in even deeper, began fucking her even harder, and then he looked at her
gorgeous face.
 
The mixed saturation of
her juices and his pre-cum were creating louder sounds now.
 
And he knew it was just a matter of
seconds.
 
He knew she was not going to be
able to feel that saturation, and to feel the force his gyrations over and over
again, without cumming and cumming real soon.

She
came.
 
She came with that hard
grunt-squeeze he loved.
 
Her body tensed
up, her vagina began jumping, and she paved the way for him.
 

He
came too.
 
Harder than even she could
manage it.
  
His stomach pushed in and
out, and his muscles clenched, and he came with a powerful cum.
 
He saturated her pussy, and poured out of her
too.
 
And he kept on pumping.
 
His dick was white with foam, as he entered
her and gathered more cum around his rod, and went back
 
in.
 
He
kept on fucking her.
 
Until even he had
nothing left.
 
That was what she loved
about Charles.
 
He always, no matter what
the circumstance, gave her his all.

When
it was finally over, he was still on top of her, and his dick was still
throbbing from the release.
 
He looked at
her.
 
“You’re going to have to change
clothes again,” he said.
 
“You know
that.”