Authors: Priscilla Poole Rainwater
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a look of puzzlement.
Grace now knew what a trapped animal felt like, and she began to hyperventilate as the full scope of the woman's treachery hit her like a runaway train. “You can't do that! YOU
KNOW THAT'S A LIE! I ....I would be ruined!” she wheezed, all the color draining from her face.
Satisfied that the balance of power had just shifted, an even more sinister smile contorted Martina’s usually innocent looking features. “Well, you had best figure out a way to get him back here, alone, and I mean like yesterday, GRACE, or you'll not only be humiliated by my hands, but you'll almost certainly face time in prison, to boot. If I can't have Granger and this life...” she said as she waved her hand around the beautifully decorated office. “....if I can't have it, then we'll BOTH go down. I'll personally see to it that the Mortensen name is dragged through the mud and back. And even if you
don’t
go to prison, no amount of money will EVER make you acceptable in our social circles again. Well, what do you say, are we a team?” she finished, then stepped back and smiled sweetly.
Chilled by the woman's constant, swift, chameleon-like transformations, Grace croaked, “You're mad. You're completely...
MAD
!”
Satisfied with the look of utter horror on the woman's face, Martina had little doubt her point had been driven home decidedly. Leaning close again, she gave her a peck on the cheek, pointedly ignoring the fact the woman flinched as if her flesh had just been seared with a branding iron. “Well, I must take my leave of you, Mother Grace, but I'll return in a few days. And I expect to find Granger here when I return. I'll bring some bride books, so we can begin planning for the perfect wedding. Chow!” she chirped, then picked up her purse and left as if nothing had happened.
Watching her leave, Grace's eyes narrowed to slits and her lips curled back in a feral snarl.
That sneaky, manipulative, backstabbing
BITCH
!...
she thought, then, spurred by desperation, she rushed to the desk and picked up the phone, summoning her personal assistant.
Afterwards, she strolled as calmly as she could to the large window, looking out at the vast mountain estate. For so many years, the majority of her life, actually, the estate had always represented the image she had wanted the entire world to see of her, a woman of importance, a woman to be admired, a woman to be reckoned with. And now it seemed as if she would lose it all. Unless she....
“You wished to see me, ma'am?” a familiar voice called, interrupting her thoughts.
Turning, she saw her personal assistant, a breathtakingly handsome young man named Gilbert Ryna, standing inside the doorway, adjusting his tie. She also noticed his usual, immaculately groomed hair was tousled
. Screwing the little Guatemalan maid again, I take it....
she thought as jealousy wormed it's way through her stomach, but she quickly dismissed the thought, knowing her very livelihood depended on concentrating on the business at hand. Struggling to compose herself, she managed a winning smile, then practically glided across the room to greet him. “Come in dear, come in, and shut that door for me will you, please?”
“Yes ma'am.” he replied, then closed the door and locked it for good measure, on the off chance she was in the mood for one of the frequent, wild fuck-sessions she never seemed to get enough of. The woman's appetite for sex was voracious, easily surpassing the libido of most women who were twenty years her junior.
Seating herself behind the desk again, she opened a drawer and fished out the family check book, one that was used for household expenses. It was the only family account Granger had given her a free hand with. Picking up a pen, she opened the book and began filling out a check in complete silence.
What's this all about? She's never paid me extra before, for that. I mean, not that she would have to anyway, she's one sexy older broad, for sure
.... Gilbert thought. His member was already growing rigid, despite the fact he had blown a huge load inside the petite young maid just moments earlier. He supposed he wasn't the only one who had an overactive sex drive, and the extremely large staff employed by the household, most of whom were
attractive, buxom young females, had proven to be pussy heaven for him.
Finished, Grace placed then pen down, got up, then approached him. Handing the check to him in silence, she waited, to gauge his reaction.
Looking at the figure, his eyes grew wide with shock, then dread suddenly hit him as he remembered an ugly, bloody mess he had been ordered to help clean up at a cabin, years earlier. He had been paid forty thousand dollars then too, to ensure his loyalty and silence concerning the incident. “What is it you need?” he stammered, fearing the answer.
Reaching up in an intimate gesture, she brushed imaginary lint off the shoulders of his tailor-made suit, one she herself had bought for him. “I need a gun, something powerful, dear.” she purred. Shifting her attention from his shoulders to his face, she began caressing one cheek lightly with her fingertips, a gesture that always drove him wild. Pressing her bosom against him, she did what she always did, using the tool she had learned to use at a very young age, sex. “Just make sure it's not traceable, that's very important.”
“I'll see what I can do, ma'am.” he answered shakily as her hand stole it's way down to his crotch, making him close his eyes and moan.
Getting down on her knees, she slowly unbuttoned his trousers, then pulled his throbbing member out of his silk boxer shorts. Kissing the tip of his rock-hard manhood, she mumbled, “You won't let me down, will you, my beautiful young Adonis?”
Another moan was his only reply.
Knowing she had him hooked through the cock yet again, she marveled at how easily men succumbed to the wiles of women. Sliding her full lips over the head of his penis, she felt him shudder, then she took it all the way in.
“I won't...let you down.” he gasped as he dropped the check on the floor. “You'll have it by morning.” he groaned, then grabbed two fistfuls of her hair and began pumping his hips vigorously as she worked her magic.
******************************************
“That was the best dinner I've had in a very long time.” Jocelyn complimented the owner of the restaurant, a young African American woman named Shannon. She and Granger had been surprised when Cassandra had brought them to the old train station, claiming the place had the best atmosphere and the most wonderful soul food that could be found in the state. The Train Station Restaurant was decorated simply, with both booths and long tables for groups of people. The drinks were served in old fashioned Mason jars, and they weren't stingy with the heaping portions of food on every platter served. Connected to the building was
an
old train car, which the young owner had converted into a cozy little bar.
“I'm glad you enjoyed it, and this meal is on us.” the young woman beamed, basking in the
praise. “You know, your daughter is a great friend, and she was a big help convincing the town council to give me the business license I needed. They wanted to tear the place down, can you believe that? Cassandra found documentation which qualified this place as
a
Historic Landmark. So, instead of me having to be forced to sell to some greedy developer, they let me go ahead with my original plans.” Smiling again, she bid them farewell, then wandered off to greet other customers.
Granger glanced around the packed restaurant, which was filled with people of all walks of life, both blue collar and white collar. His gaze finally settled and lingered lovingly on Cassandra, who at the moment was chatting it up and laughing with members of the small, but talented jazz band that played here, on a regular basis, from what he had been told.
“She's...different in some ways. She seems more secure, more comfortable in her own skin, as they say.” Jocelyn remarked, following his gaze and capturing his attention. “I mean, she's always been good with people, and never had problems finding and defending a good cause, but now it's like she's finally comfortable with who she is.”
My baby is a strong woman now, and she doesn't take shit like she used to...
she thought as she watched her proudly
“I agree with you. I was blown away to find out how she helped save this place, and her other community activities. She couldn't remember a thing about her past, but she didn't let that hold her back.” he mused as he watched her bid goodbye to the musicians and make her way back to their table.
My Lord, how blessed I am that this amazing, sexy woman is actually married to me...
he thought.
Sliding into the booth next to him, Cassandra took his hand in hers, then laced her fingers around his. “You guys have to try the Peach Ginger Tart, it's to die for.” she remarked as the dessert cart made its way to their table.
Unable to eat another bite, both he and Jocelyn declined. “Honey, the garlic-lemon steak and pan fried potatoes filled me up.” he said as he kissed her cheek. Letting go of her hand, he draped his arm over her shoulder, pulling her closer.
She looked up at him, giving him a playful pout. “You guys are no fun. I guess I'll have to look like a pig all by my lonesome.” she said as she pointed to the dessert she wanted.
Laughing, Granger shook head, his blue eyes full of life as he watched her take a bite and murmur, “Mmmmmm...manna from heaven.”
Jocelyn watched her daughter and son-in-law, relishing every moment, determined to never take a thing for granted, ever again, now that she had her baby back.
****************************************
“Goodnight mom.” Cassandra said, giving her a kiss on the cheek.
“Goodnight, baby.” she smiled, then slipped inside her suite.
Hand in hand, Granger and Cassandra made their way back to their own suite.
Once inside, she looked at her watch excitedly, noting it was four minutes shy of her allotted time to talk to her son. Their son.
What if Regan hates me?
The
thought speared her.
Granger watched her chew on her lower lip, both excitement and desperation stamped on her lovely face. He could sense her apprehension, it was rolling off her body in waves. “Cass, he's been waiting three years to hear your voice. He understands what happened was no fault of your own. Our son loves you. Just call, he'll do the rest.” he reassured her in a gentle voice.
Nodding, she pushed the appropriate number on the speed dial, holding her breath. The phone rang only once, and he was on the line.
“Hello mom!” his eager voice sang.
“Regan...” she croaked, then cleared her throat. “Regan, is it really you?”
“
Yes ma'am, I'm your son, Regan Dardanus Mortenson.” he replied in a sweet voice.
“Thank you for calling, mommy, I've been real excited.”
Nearly overcome, she walked to the couch on shaky legs, trying not to cry. “I'm excited too, hon. I'm your mother. I'm Cassandra.” she said as she finally broke down and wept tears of joy.
Sitting down on the sofa beside her, Granger kissed her brow and pulled her to him.
“Don't cry, mom. It's ok that you don't remember me, I understand.” the young boy replied, trying to comfort her the best way he knew how.
Resting her head on her husband's shoulder gratefully, she barely managed to compose herself, wiping tears from her face with her free hand. “Oh, honey, I never forgot you. I may have not known your name or where you were, but you were always in my dreams, calling to me. Always in my heart, somewhere. I just didn't know where to look.”
“Really? You really dreamed about me?” he asked with such wonder and happiness that she began sobbing again quietly.
“Yes, really!” she sniffed. “When your grandmother and dad showed me your pictures, it made me so happy to know the beautiful boy I had been dreaming about was really my son.”
“Ummm...geez, mom, I'm a boy. I'm handsome and stuff, but not beautiful. Only icky girls
are beautiful. If you said that in front of any of my friends, they'd razz me to the dogs and back.”
“Ok, you're handsome, like your dad!” she laughed happily.
Standing, Granger made his way to the large leather lazy boy, sat down, then watched as his wife reconnected with their son, and every time she laughed, his heart soared even higher.
The two of them are all I want, all I need. My wife and our child. If I were to lose every material thing I own in this world, it wouldn't matter, as long as I have them. Thank you Lord, thank you for hearing my prayer...
he thought as a single tear rolled down his cheek.
Two Hours later
Cassandra couldn't stop smiling as she listened to Granger end their phone call to Regan. She had spent the past two hours talking to him, listening to him tell her about everything he liked, everything he didn't like, and all the things he wanted to do once she returned home.
As soon as Granger hung up the phone, she got up and went to the chair he was sitting in. Bending, she threw her arms around his neck and gushed, “Thank you, thank you so much for not telling him I didn't want him. You know, when you thought I had left on purpose.”
Pulling her down onto his lap, he gathered her in his arms and held on to her as if for dear life. “Well, don't thank me just yet honey.” he hesitated, not wanting to broach the subject, yet wanting to be completely honest with her, too. Lies would be no way to restart their new life together. “I...I never actually defended you either, when others told him, uhhh, things.” he replied softly as he bowed his head in shame.