around her finger.
“And what would be the charge?” I asked as I pulled my running shoes from the closet.
“With that beast?” she giggled, nodding toward my crotch. “Assault with a deadly weapon.”
She was cute as hell and I suddenly remembered her big dick compliments from the night before. Her dirty talk had been impressive. “What would you charge me with?” she cooed.
I played along, not wanting her post-coital flirting to fall on completely deaf and insensitive ears. “Indecent exposure,” I joked as I sat on the side of the bed to dress.
“Lewd and lascivious behavior?” she whispered, scooting closer to me and stroking my bare chest.
I chuckled and moved away from her to pull my shirt over my head, leaving an awkward silence in the room.
“Maybe I just wanna be handcuffed,” she said, sitting back.
“C’mon now, darlin’, didn’t anyone ever tell you not to tease a man with a big gun and a set of cuffs? Besides,” I began to lie. “The handcuffs only come out for official business and really bad girls, and you, my dear, are a lady.” I grabbed my phone and headphones from the nightstand. “Help yourself to anything in the kitchen – if there is anything in the kitchen – and like I said, the coffee should be on.”
“I had fun last night, Mac,” she cooed softly, looking down and pulling the sheets tightly under her chin.
“Me too,” I said, leaning in for a quick peck on her tiny mouth still stained with red lipstick. “Just let yourself out and lock the door behind you,” I waved, not giving her a chance to reply.
I leaned against the front of the house to stretch before hitting the pavement. It was March, and still cold as hell in the morning in D.C. I watched the warm mist of air leave my lungs and fog the space between my body and the old brick house. I needed to run. I needed to clear my head. I always questioned myself in the morning, feeling guilty for bedding women I had no intention of ever seeing again.
I plugged my ears and chose my playlist. As Axel Rose poetically sang Welcome to the Jungle , I began my day jogging the streets of another one – Washington, D.C.
1
SAMANTHA
“S amantha, you’re wrong. You’re not even going to hit your sexual peak until your thirties.”
It was a comment I had learned to expect from my ninety-eight year old grandmother, who by any stretch of the imagination had lived a full and interesting life.
“Mimi. Really?” I hissed, looking around to see if anyone was within earshot.
I was her favorite granddaughter, and the Peterson family knew it. Actually, I was her favorite – period. I came to visit Mimi every week after a stroke two years ago demanded she have full-time care. Mimi, not wanting to make a fuss, decided to move into the luxurious Autumn Valley Healthcare Center in lieu of staying in the family home with a nurse. She gave the hundred-year-old house she was born in to me and her only great-grandchild, Dax.
“Lower your voice, please,” I droned as I surveyed the lush garden that surrounded the facility.
“Aw hell, Sam. These old farts couldn’t hear a dump truck driving through a nitroglycerin plant.”
I looked around at the residents carefully placed on the perfectly manicured lawn of Autumn Valley. Some of the poor souls seemed as if they were already gone from the real world, but no one had bothered to tell them.
I raised one eyebrow and lowered my voice. “All I meant was I’m okay with being twenty-nine and celibate. And by the way, do I need to remind you that you are one of the oldest residents here?”
“That’s what they tell me,” she barked as she sat up in the chaise lounge to catch a deeper breath. “But I think a few of these gorkers need to cough up a birth certificate. God knows they’re coughin’ up everything else.”
“Okay, that’s enough. Look around you. These are some of the South’s finest people.”
Well, maybe not finest, but wealthiest for sure. Autumn Valley
“And what would be the charge?” I asked as I pulled my running shoes from the closet.
“With that beast?” she giggled, nodding toward my crotch. “Assault with a deadly weapon.”
She was cute as hell and I suddenly remembered her big dick compliments from the night before. Her dirty talk had been impressive. “What would you charge me with?” she cooed.
I played along, not wanting her post-coital flirting to fall on completely deaf and insensitive ears. “Indecent exposure,” I joked as I sat on the side of the bed to dress.
“Lewd and lascivious behavior?” she whispered, scooting closer to me and stroking my bare chest.
I chuckled and moved away from her to pull my shirt over my head, leaving an awkward silence in the room.
“Maybe I just wanna be handcuffed,” she said, sitting back.
“C’mon now, darlin’, didn’t anyone ever tell you not to tease a man with a big gun and a set of cuffs? Besides,” I began to lie. “The handcuffs only come out for official business and really bad girls, and you, my dear, are a lady.” I grabbed my phone and headphones from the nightstand. “Help yourself to anything in the kitchen – if there is anything in the kitchen – and like I said, the coffee should be on.”
“I had fun last night, Mac,” she cooed softly, looking down and pulling the sheets tightly under her chin.
“Me too,” I said, leaning in for a quick peck on her tiny mouth still stained with red lipstick. “Just let yourself out and lock the door behind you,” I waved, not giving her a chance to reply.
I leaned against the front of the house to stretch before hitting the pavement. It was March, and still cold as hell in the morning in D.C. I watched the warm mist of air leave my lungs and fog the space between my body and the old brick house. I needed to run. I needed to clear my head. I always questioned myself in the morning, feeling guilty for bedding women I had no intention of ever seeing again.
I plugged my ears and chose my playlist. As Axel Rose poetically sang Welcome to the Jungle , I began my day jogging the streets of another one – Washington, D.C.
1
SAMANTHA
“S amantha, you’re wrong. You’re not even going to hit your sexual peak until your thirties.”
It was a comment I had learned to expect from my ninety-eight year old grandmother, who by any stretch of the imagination had lived a full and interesting life.
“Mimi. Really?” I hissed, looking around to see if anyone was within earshot.
I was her favorite granddaughter, and the Peterson family knew it. Actually, I was her favorite – period. I came to visit Mimi every week after a stroke two years ago demanded she have full-time care. Mimi, not wanting to make a fuss, decided to move into the luxurious Autumn Valley Healthcare Center in lieu of staying in the family home with a nurse. She gave the hundred-year-old house she was born in to me and her only great-grandchild, Dax.
“Lower your voice, please,” I droned as I surveyed the lush garden that surrounded the facility.
“Aw hell, Sam. These old farts couldn’t hear a dump truck driving through a nitroglycerin plant.”
I looked around at the residents carefully placed on the perfectly manicured lawn of Autumn Valley. Some of the poor souls seemed as if they were already gone from the real world, but no one had bothered to tell them.
I raised one eyebrow and lowered my voice. “All I meant was I’m okay with being twenty-nine and celibate. And by the way, do I need to remind you that you are one of the oldest residents here?”
“That’s what they tell me,” she barked as she sat up in the chaise lounge to catch a deeper breath. “But I think a few of these gorkers need to cough up a birth certificate. God knows they’re coughin’ up everything else.”
“Okay, that’s enough. Look around you. These are some of the South’s finest people.”
Well, maybe not finest, but wealthiest for sure. Autumn Valley
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