From Whence I Came

This chapter is another that contains some music. If you want, have a listen while you read. It might help set the tone. If not, no harm done. As a side note, what do you guys think of the music references in the story? Do they add or take away?

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Crown Vic to a Parallel World: From Whence I Came The second installment of the ongoing adventures of Church Philips

24 Rescue Me

Joe and I took Joe's car despite my protestations. Joe reasoned that Zeke would see the car and assume it was just Mary coming over and not me or Bem. Joe insisted that we deal with Zeke without escalating.' I had no problem with escalation and no hope that our difficulties' with Zeke would be settled without violence or threats of violence. Joe insisted that I restrain myself,' that Zeke would see reason.' I didn't argue with Joe...well, I didn't after a point. I made it known that I had my own ideas of how to deal with Zeke and they didn't involve reasoning with the man.

"Just keep your hands to yourself and your mouth shut and let me handle it." Joe insisted.

I agreed, provided Zeke remained reasonable. I reserved the right to act if action was required. "Not without my say so." Joe insisted some more as we pulled into the driveway of the Thompson house.

"Yeah, yeah." I agreed and put the car in park. I looked up at the mostly dark house and wondered what awaited us inside. I'd parked on the far side of the Thompson family's SUV so Zeke couldn't see who was coming or how many. Joe wanted to go up alone. He reasoned that Zeke would be more likely to open the door for him because Joe was non-threatening. I warned my brother not to stand directly in front of the door when he knocked. Zeke had been unpredictable lately and I didn't know what he was capable of. Joe told me I was being silly, but I insisted he humor me.

Joe got out of the car first and made his careful way to the porch. I got out and clicked the driver's door shut. The quiet door latch was the one positive thing about Joe's car. I sheltered next to the Thompson SUV and watched Joe and the front door through the clear glass of the front window and windshield.

Joe did as I instructed and stood a little to the side when he knocked at the door. He favored the knob side of the door, so when Zeke opened it, he'd have to come around the door jamb to see who it was. The door opened slightly. I noticed that Zeke hid his body behind the door. He craned his head around to see who had knocked. Zeke's hand came through the opening at the same time his peering face did. The hand gripped an automatic pistol.

The gun seemed like overkill to me, no pun intended. The weapon's presence made me wonder. It made me wonder if Zeke had other enemies who would be more ruthless than Joe and more interested in causing him harm than me. When I considered the possibilities, I was forced to reason that anyone who would embezzle such a vast sum of money from their employer, would certainly be capable of having other enemies.

Since I was only concerned with my brother and myself, and since I figured the presence of the gun untied my hands when it came to taking action, I acted. I used a burst of telekinetic magic to shove the door into Zeke. I may have overdone the force a little because the impact of the door sent Zeke flying backward into the entryway. He lost his grip on the gun when he landed, and it clattered across the ceramic tile floor of the front hall. He was reaching for it as I ran through the door, passed Joe. My magic got to the gun before Zeke did, and I floated it off the floor and into my hands.

"Come on in, Joe." I called through the open door. "He's tame now."

I inspected my prize. The gun was a nine-millimeter automatic; it said so in little chrome characters on the bottom of the cheap, plastic grip. The weapon, even though physically large, felt light and chintzy in my hand. It looked like something Zeke would have purchased at a pawn shop so he could feel like a tough guy.

I hadn't handled a handgun since the first mission, but Bem had made sure I knew the basics of a few different types of projectile weapons. Zeke's nine-mil had a mechanism that was familiar enough for me to disarm without having to scratch my head over it. I ejected the magazine from the pistol, pocketed it, and checked the chamber for a round. There was none. Even if Zeke would have pulled the trigger, the hammer would have snapped on nothing. The fool hadn't chambered a round. I shook my head at my brother-in-law's incompetence.

Joe stepped carefully into the entryway, cane in one hand and briefcase in the other. He'd worn navy-blue pleated and cuffed dress pants, a white and blue pin-striped, buttoned-down shirt, and a dark tie so he looked the part of an attorney instead of an angry brother. Joe was deliberately calm and professional. "Ezekiel, we wish to speak with you, not cause you physical harm. Can we sit down?"

"You keep him away from me." Zeke squealed and pointed a shaking finger my way. "He's a monster."

I grinned at Zeke and deliberately reinforced his fear. I took the gun magazine from my pocket, slammed it into the pistol, and chambered a round. The sound of the weapon's bolt (or whatever it's called) sliding home got the attention of both Zeke and Joe. They both stared at me as I tossed the cocked weapon into the air of the two-story entryway. Their eyes followed the spinning gun as it lazily climbed toward the ceiling.

I watched it climb as well, until it reached maximum height and began to fall. Just as it started its return trip toward the ground, I vaporized the weapon with a blast of white magic shot from the index finger of my right hand. Zeke's eyes grew to the size of dinner plates as they returned to my face. Joe scowled and admonished me. "Knock it off."

Joe adjusted his tone and tried to soothe Zeke's fear. He left his cane standing and offered a hand to the man who was still sprawled on the entryway floor. Zeke took it and scrambled to his feet. "Come in the other room, Ezekiel." Joe commanded, very much in charge of the scene. "We can sit in the dining room. Church will stay at the kitchen island. He won't come any nearer."

"I want him outside." Zeke insisted with a head jerk in my direction.

"That's not going to happen." Joe said firmly. "I'm functionally disabled and having Church outside gives you the physical advantage. We're not here to hurt you, but I refuse to be at your mercy. Church will sit at the island and come no closer."

Zeke agreed to Joe's request. Joe issued orders to me without taking his eyes from Zeke. "Shut the door, come in the kitchen, and sit at the island."

I was mad at Joe for giving me a hard time about the gun. It seemed to me that illustrating Zeke's disadvantage was a good negotiating tool. To get back at my brother, and to make sure Zeke knew who was in charge, I decided some more theatrics were in order. I could see the front door of the house reflected in the glass of a picture frame on the opposite wall. I pushed my hands in my pockets and, using the reflection to direct my telekinesis, I eased the door shut and spun the lock with magic.

Zeke's eyes bulged from his narrow head a second time. Joe was not amused and scolded me accordingly. "I told you to knock it off."

I shrugged off Joe's scolding and gleefully watched as Zeke fled the entryway for the dining room. Joe and I followed him at a more relaxed pace. I stopped at the island and waited for Joe to make his way to the dining room table before I sat. I turned my chair so I could keep an eye on my brother-in-law. My impatient left hand reached into my pocket and played with my watch.

I realized where the hand had gone and extracted it from my pocket. I wanted both hands free in case Zeke decided to do anything else that required action on my part. I rested both hands on the white countertop of the island and fidgeted with my bracelet instead of playing with my watch.

Joe moved to the head of the table, the seat of authority. Zeke was loitering next to the chair, but Joe edged him away by relentlessly advancing on Zeke until Joe could pull the chair out and sit. Joe set his briefcase on the table. He left it closed and gestured to the seat one spot down and to his left for Zeke. Zeke was obviously confused from being maneuvered away from his spot at the table, but he pulled out the chair Joe had indicated and sat without objection. He slouched in the seat, looked to Joe, and waited.

Joe addressed Zeke over folded hands, his voice firm and calm, full of the authority of a man who knows his business. I admired my brother's poise as he explained the purpose of our visit. "Ezekiel, my sister wants a divorce and custody of the twins. I have drawn up the necessary papers for an uncontested separation, and I would like you to sign them. The terms of the agreement are simple. You keep the house and the cars and whatever assets are yours. Mary keeps the girls, their clothes and belongings, and whatever financial assets are in her name. What is your answer?"

Zeke drew himself up defiantly and uttered a single word. "Never."

Joe was undiscouraged. "Now we start negotiating. What is your counteroffer?"

Zeke shook his head with all the vehemence of a dog who'd just come in from the rain. "Nothing. I will never allow my wife to divorce me. It's against our religion."

"Let's cut the nonsense." Joe's tone had grown bold and direct, like he was giving orders to a difficult subordinate. He wasn't usually that blunt and I assumed it was a tactic. I assumed everything that my brother had done since we arrived was a carefully planned and executed tactic. He attacked Zeke's refusal both logically and relentlessly.

"You know very well we can fight you in court and win. You're an embezzling, whoring, degenerate gambler with no more religious zeal than a skid row pimp. If you refuse me, I will make it my duty, and my pleasure, to expose every single one of your indiscretions. By the time I am finished, you will have lost your position with the church and will be a marked man for life. If you agree, and sign the papers that I have prepared, all that stays between you and God."

Zeke deflated like a popped balloon. "If I get divorced, I'll lose my job anyway." He said in a voice that pleaded with Joe.

Joe seemed to dial back his authoritative posture just a touch as he continued. "Ezekiel, there are always extenuating circumstances. A liar with your vast experience and obvious talent should be able to come up with something that makes a divorce between you and Mary the only option. I trust that whatever lie you tell to preserve your position will not be damaging to my sister's reputation. If it is, we will pursue legal action."

Joe was handling the situation like an artist creating a masterpiece. He'd gone from soothing, to direct, to demanding, to best friend without faltering. Joe's skills of coercion were fearsome in their intensity.

I looked to Zeke and noticed his eyes narrow. He appeared to have some inspiration from the recesses of his corrupt mind. I worried that Joe had overplayed his hand with his buddy routine. "How much to I get?" The weasel asked. "What's it worth to you in dollars?"

"I suppose there is that to consider." Joe conceded and sat back like he'd expected this question from the beginning. "What figure did you have in mind?"

Zeke drew himself up even taller than before. "I want a million." He said boldly.

Joe wagged his head and scolded Zeke like he'd done to me when I vaporized the gun. "Now, Ezekiel, you only embezzled two hundred thousand dollars. Why should we cover your shortfall and spend an additional eight hundred thousand for something we could get in court considerably cheaper? I counteroffer with one hundred thousand."

"Not enough." Zeke's brow furrowed and he pointed an accusatory finger at me. "His little fag husband is loaded. He should be able to come up with a measly million dollars."

My hands clenched into involuntary fists. I wanted to smear Zeke's smug face across my knuckles, but that wouldn't get Mary her divorce. Joe came to the rescue while I was busy biting my tongue. "Please, insults will get us nowhere. We are negotiating a business arrangement like two intelligent adults. Do you accept my counteroffer, or do you plan to continue negotiating?"

"Five hundred thousand." Zeke spat. "It's worth at least that." He said and perked up with what I assumed was fresh inspiration. "It's worth at least that to you for me to keep my mouth shut about Mary's adultery."

"No." Joe shook his head just once. "You may assume what you like, Ezekiel, but there have been no improprieties on the part of my sister. If I have to, I will testify to that effect in open court and I will be believed. You, on the other hand, with your record of improprieties, will not be believed. Your claims will sound like just what they are, the rantings of a desperate man. No, I will double my previous offer, but that is the absolute maximum. We will agree to cover your crime so you can keep your job."

"I need more than that." Fear invaded Zeke's voice and I knew we were winning. "I tried to make the money betting the horses. I'm into my bookie for twenty grand. If I don't pay up, he'll break my legs."

Joe seemed to sense that victory was near. "I am feeling particularly generous today, Ezekiel. I counter with two hundred and fifty thousand dollars. That is my final offer before the negotiations are closed and we go to court. If you force us to take that route, your embezzlement will be exposed, you will lose your job, you will face jail time, and you will certainly get your legs broken. Do we have a deal?"

"Fine." Zeke huffed, suddenly angry that he'd given in. "I'll sign when I have the money in my hand."

Joe shook his head a second time and opened his briefcase to draw out several sets of papers collated with file clips. "Ezekiel, I have no faith in your ability to adhere to a verbal agreement." Joe shoved the papers under Zeke's nose and waited for him to accept them before he proceeded with his speech.

"Here are the divorce petition, custody agreement, and a promissory note made out in the amount of two hundred and fifty thousand dollars. You can see the note is duly signed, witnessed, and notarized. I will give you this legal and enforceable document, and you will sign the divorce petition. It's Tuesday, so either I, or an agent of mine, will return at this same time on Thursday with a certified check for that amount and a receipt for you to endorse. It will be that way, or it won't be any way at all."

Joe unscrewed the cap on a burnished gold monogramed pen, held it out toward Zeke, and waited. Zeke folded and pocketed the promissory note, snatched the pen from Joe, and started to savagely sign the papers. Joe provided instruction. "The spaces requiring your signature or initials are highlighted and the pages flagged. Please make sure you endorse each one."

When Zeke was finished, he childishly threw Joe's pen across the room. I retrieved it with telekinetic magic and brought it back to Zeke. I aimed the point at his face as a threat. "Give Joe his pen back nicely, or I'll drive it through your skull." I warned through clenched teeth.

Joe glared at me, but I held my ground. Zeke took the pen from the air and offered it to Joe. His hand shook so hard, Joe had to grab Zeke's bony wrist before he could take the pen from his hand. Joe capped the pen and put it away, then he inspected the papers for completeness. When he was satisfied, he placed them in his briefcase, snapped it shut and rose. Joe remained a professional from first to last. "Thank you for listening to reason, Ezekiel. You will find this way will work out better for all involved."

The fact that Joe had gotten to his feet told me that the meeting was over. I got up from the island and walked ahead of Joe so I could open the door for him. Zeke shouted at us from the relative safety of the kitchen. "Don't send either of those monsters back! Not Church or that other guy! I know what he did to me. I don't know how you fixed it, but I know what he did!"

I couldn't keep the smile off my face. I was glad Zeke remembered getting pounded by Bem. I hoped the experience would give him something to think about, but I doubted he had the capacity to learn anything from it. I led Joe out, held the car door for him, and climbed in the driver's side.

I was in awe of my brother's performance, especially his ability to keep his temper. Had I been the one dealing with Zeke, Shawn would have needed to put him back together again. "You're really good at this stuff, aren't you?" I asked Joe and made sure I didn't sound patronizing. "You already had that note made out for exactly the amount you knew he'd agree to. How did you know?"

"I'll tell you a secret." Joe snapped his briefcase open and handed over five sets of paperwork. I flipped through them. Each set contained a promissory note. "I had five of those notes all made out in different amounts from one hundred and fifty thousand up to three hundred and fifty thousand and one blank form that I could use for any amount. It looked impressive when I pulled the right one out, but I was well prepared. Shawn told me to spend whatever it took, but I wanted to get as good a deal as I could."

I handed the notes back to Joe. He accepted them and put them carefully away. Finding out that my brother was as devious as he was smart impressed me even more. I started the car and was backing down the driveway when Joe spoke again. "If you had to fall in love with a man, I'm glad it was Shawn. He loves you, a lot. I'm happy for you." Joe said and paused a full minute before adding to his thoughts. "If I'm completely honest, I'm jealous of what you two have."

I was pleased that Joe had said what he did, and I hoped an admission like that meant he was beginning to accept our relationship. I assumed the talk he'd had with Shawn when I was pretending to be asleep was fresh in his mind and had something to do with his softening position on the matter. I put the car in gear and pointed it up the street. "Thanks, Joe, it means a lot coming from you."

I could have let the emotion of the moment alone. I could have just been happy that Joe said something about Shawn and me that didn't have a scowl attached to it. I could have, but I didn't. I decided to fuck with him. I didn't have any choice in the matter. Given the way Joe had treated me, it was only fair. That's what I told myself, anyway.

"If you come with us," I said and tried to keep the humor out of my voice, "we should be able to find a nice young guy for you to. You're still attractive, kept your figure pretty well. We get those legs fixed up and some muscle back on them, you'll have guys chasing you down the street."

Joe punched my arm with no power in the hit. "Just stop. I like women."

"How do you know?" I teased. I'd already planned to push the teasing as far as I could and hoped I didn't cross a line. "You never tried it with a man. It might be like if you never tried chocolate ice cream. You love chocolate ice cream. You could practice with Bem, learn from him. He sure taught me a lot."

I glanced over to see how Joe would react to my teasing. He seemed to settle into his seat and looked almost like he had when he was negotiating with Zeke. "There is some logic in what you say." He conceded. "As an academic exercise, I'm forced to agree with your premise. However, I never tried purposely cutting myself with broken glass either, but I'm certain I wouldn't like it. I have tried fruitcake though, and I know I didn't like that."

"FRUITCAKE!" I shouted, surprised that Joe had managed to drag out the ancient pejorative. "I'm hurt. Besides, I don't think anyone says that anymore."

"Yes, well..." Joe started to say when I cut him off with more silliness.

"I still say you're missing an opportunity." I tried to sound serious, but it was getting tougher not to laugh. "No one knows a man's body like another man. When you and Beth were together, did you ever really know what to do with her and did she ever really know what to do with you? I'm guessing it took a long time to find all her buttons and I'm certain you worked harder to find hers than she did to find yours. It took Shawn and I like three times to figure out what made the other scream and tremble. It didn't take Bem more than three minutes to figure both of us out. We still try new things and refine technique, but there isn't a lot of guessing involved and I never worry that he'll think I'm a weirdo if I ask for something different."

Joe kept his head and tried to attack my teasing like he'd attacked Zeke's feigned religious fervor. "I'm willing to admit that from the viewpoint of pure animal pleasure, your argument has merit. However, I don't have the ability to detach my sexual desire from my emotional attraction. I look at men, even good-looking men, and it's like I'm looking at a building. Some have better architecture than others, but I've never considered licking the windows."

I lost it; laughed like hell. "You're not a window licker!" I gasped. "I want a second opinion!"

"You're lucky I'm a cripple." Joe laughed and punched me again, this time with some force. "If my legs worked, I'd be kicking your ass up and down the street!"

"Don't threaten me with a good time!" I howled with laughter to the point I could barely see to drive the car.

"You're infuriating!" Joe shouted through his own roars of merriment.

It took several slow blocks for us to settle from hysterics to occasional giggles. "Hey," I said when I could speak, "do me a big favor and tell Shawn what you said. He called me `infuriating' the day after we met. I told him he was far from the first person to view me that way, and since then, I don't think anyone but him has used that exact term when giving me shit."

"I'll tell him. I'll be happy to tell him." Joe promised with enthusiasm. "You've changed a lot, but you're still a child. I can't believe you vaporized Ezekiel's gun and shut the door with magic. I gave you shit for it, but I really wanted to high-five you. He's such a miserable little worm. What did Mary ever see in him?"

"I don't know." I shrugged and steered the car into a liquor store parking lot. "Be right back." I hopped out of the car and came back a few minutes later with four bottles of what the liquor store clerk called `good Champaign.'

"What's that for?" Joe asked.

"We just got Mary's divorce. We need to celebrate!"

"Are you going to be OK with that?" Joe asked. He looked and sounded concerned. "I felt like a fool the day you threw Zeke out of the house, and I told you to get a bottle of whiskey for the table. I didn't mean to put temptation in front of you like that. You didn't say a word, though. I didn't realize what I had done until later. I'm sorry."

"You didn't do anything wrong." I reassured my brother. "I can have a few drinks now and then. I can get drunk. I don't have the desire for it every day. It's not a crutch to lean on like it used to be. I can even smoke a cigarette now and then without wanting to buy a pack. It's amazing what you can do when someone shines a little light into your life."

"That's exactly what he did, isn't it?"

I admitted a small piece of what I felt for my husband. "When I'm with him, I feel like I'm getting a peak into heaven."

"I am happy for you." Joe rested a hand on the shoulder that he'd just been punching. "It's nice to not have to worry anymore. I know you went through hell in the years after mom and dad died, but it wasn't easy for me to watch you destroy yourself. I think I hated you more for that than for any perceived role you had in our parent's deaths."

I felt an intense wave of remorse crash over me as Joe shared his feelings about the dark years of the decade between the death of my folks and when I met Shawn. I was ashamed over how I lived then. "I'm sorry for putting you through that. I know those years weren't easy for you either. I never told you how proud I was when you finished law school, passed the bar, and got your first job. You were a single father, going to school, working, keeping the house together, making sure all the plates kept spinning. I should have been there to help you and not drowning myself in bourbon. Can you forgive me for that?"

"Stop." Joe ordered. "Whatever you did wrong, you paid for ten times, maybe a hundred times over. We both came through it in our own way. Congratulations for coming out on top."

I considered saying something along the lines of preferring it on the bottom, but I figured that would be too far. The banter we'd been having felt more natural than any exchange we'd had since I got back from Solum. I really hoped it was a sign of things to come. I mentally acknowledged that Shawn had been right. I needed Joe's approval. I needed to know that I could still be his big brother, even if I was gay. I also recognized that gaining approval for myself, would likely translate to approval for Andy.

Joe patted my shoulder again as we pulled in the driveway. I grabbed the bottles from the back seat and ran around to help him out of the car. I followed Joe up the front walk and through the front door. As soon as I got into the house, I tore the plastic cork from the first bottle. I shouted, "the papers are signed and we're having a divorce party!"

I took a big swallow from the bottle. When I turned it up, the pressure built and forced the wine through my nose. I pulled the spurting bottle away from my face, choking and sputtering and feeling just a little silly. Mary came running over to Joe and me and hugged us both. When Shawn walked over, she hugged him to. She even embraced Bem when he came upstairs rubbing his eyes from the nap that we'd obviously disturbed. "Thank you all!" She shouted.

The five legal adults drank the wine and toasted each other. A few minutes later, Andy came up and stuck his phone in the stereo dock in the sunroom. Because of Andy's age, I expected to hear something modern, maybe even music I'd never heard before. I was surprised when Otis Redding's rasping voice poured from the speakers in his rendition of `Shake.'

Not only was the selection perfect, but Andy had picked my favorite version of the tune, the extra-raucous cut from Redding's 1967 `Live in Europe' album. The more I found out about Andy, the more I liked him. A fifteen-year-old kid who's well-spoken, respectful, smart, funny, and who is even aware of Motown...I was jealous he wasn't my son.

Shawn dragged me into the sunroom to dance and everything seemed perfect. Then it got even better. I caught some motion out of the corner of my eye and turned my attention toward it. I watched over Shawn's shoulder while Mary bashfully approached Bem. They spoke a few words, then danced into the sunroom with us. Bem held my sister close and guided their movements in perfect time to the music. I knew that Bem could dance but was amazed at how good he looked with Mary. They glided across the floor like there was no gravity.

Andy kept up DJ duty with an excellent, all-Motown set list. After Shake,' we heard Ain't Too Proud to Beg' by the Temptations, Midnight Hour' by Wilson Pickett, and for the climax, he bumped the volume and played Fontella Bass with Rescue Me.' As the vocals started, the tune became a duet. Mary sang along as she danced with Bem. She sang in the pretty singing voice that she had. The one that I hadn't heard in so long, I'd forgotten all about it. `She could be singing to him.' I thought. We all had a great time.

After `Rescue Me,' Joe announced that the party was over. Mary broke from Bem, reluctantly I thought, and went to settle the girls in the sofa bed downstairs. Bem flopped on the living room sofa, Andy went up to his room, and the remaining three of us; Joe, Shawn, and I sat in the dining room. Mary came up and joined Bem on the sofa. They talked in low tones while the five of us finished the last bottle of Champaign. When the bottle was empty, and I had a little buzz going, I stood, stretched, and decided it was time for bed. Shawn agreed, rose, and followed me. When I got to the steps, I called to Bem. "We're going up, are you coming?"

"In a minute." He said and went back to chatting with Mary.

I really felt good as I got changed for bed and waited for Shawn to finish in the bathroom. I felt like I could finally relax. The family, for once, had a fine, fun evening with no drama, shouting, beatings, or revelations of any kind. We'd gotten Mary's divorce and even Joe seemed like he was starting to come to terms with who I was. The last hurdle was getting him to come with us. Everything else was solved. Except, nothing is ever quite that easy.

I had my sleep shorts on and was holding the t-shirt I planned to wear when Bem came into the room. He had a pensive look on his face and sat on the edge of the bed, his eyes were downcast and staring at nothing. "What's up?" I asked.

He heaved a deep breath and blew it out through pursed lips. "Uh...Church...Mary invited me...uhm...to her room...tonight. I'd like to go...to her room. I won't if you tell me not to. I know things are different here and she's your sister, so...it's up to you. What do you think?"

I would have been less shocked if Bem had walked into the room and hit me in the face with a brick. "Fucking WOW!" I said and sat on the bed next to my friend. I gripped my bracelet, and my mind swam with surprise and worry. When I looked at Bem, it was obvious he was waiting for my answer. The pressure was almost unbearable. I thought about it and thought some more. My mind spun with worry and fear. In the end, I had what could only be termed as a moment of clarity, and I made the only decision that I could have made.

"She's an adult, Bem. She invited you. If that's what she wants, and you want it to, I don't have any right to interfere. My one word of warning is to be very careful with her. In just a few days her life has been turned upside down. If you go to her, you need to be willing to deal with the fallout. Do you understand what I mean?"

"I understand." Bem hugged me sideways. He jumped up, gathered his night things, and left with the same enthusiasm he'd displayed the previous night when I told him the doctor said he was cleared. Shawn came out of the bathroom. He was drying his hands on a small towel as the room door closed behind Bem. "What's wrong? You feel off. Where's Bem going?" He asked.

"He's going to sleep with Mary tonight." I said and surprised myself with the words.

"WHAT?"

I shook my head at the floor. "She invited him, he just asked me for permission. They're both adults, how could I refuse? I'm not saying this isn't going to explode, it might...it probably will, but I'm powerless to stop it. I warned Bem to be ready for some emotional attachment or anything else that might happen. He said he could handle it. I have to trust him. I do feel incredibly awkward that the man who we, you know..."

I waved my hand in the air in forward circles as my mind searched for a single word to describe the multitude of activities that we'd participated in with Bem the previous night. I found that my vocabulary didn't have a single term to encompass kissing, foreplay, body sniffing, licking, rimming, fingering, flip fucking, and everything else that we did. I let my first term of `you know' stand and figured Shawn's memory would fill in the rest. "I mean, we fucked the hell out of each other last night and now he's going across the hall to...you know...with my little sister."

Shawn touched my cheek and ran his soft fingers under my chin. He lifted my head so he could look into my eyes. "Do you want to get your mind off it?" He asked in a sultry bedroom voice.

"God YES!" I pulled him down to me. I kissed my husband's hot mouth and let his salty flavor spread over my tongue. Shawn's lust ignited and burst into flames. Mine did the same. I couldn't wait to submerge myself in the fiery passion that I shared with my husband.

Shawn put his hands on my shoulders and pushed us apart. I felt apprehension cloud his lust and I knew he was going to suggest something new. "Church, do you think you can keep your magic steady while we make love?"

To answer his question, I activated my Vitalis power and gathered it in my skin. The magic moved to the edge of my body like a penetrable forcefield. Shawn felt it. His eyes widened like they had that morning, but immediately narrowed to the sensuous slits that I loved.

I loved when his eyes were narrow enough that there was nothing but a bottomless pupil and the frozen blue that I yearned for. Shawn held my face and moved into me. He lapped the flat of his tongue over my parted lips and licked across my cheek to nibble my ear. "Be careful." He whispered to me. I closed my eyes and moaned as his hot, lapping tongue followed my jawline to the side of my throat. Shawn breathed in through his nose, scenting me like I always scented him. "Tell me what you want." He whispered to me.

"I want what you want." I said like I always did.

"Can I take what I want?"

"Anything that you want, as much as you want, as hard as you want it."

Shawn moved his face down to the patch of hair in the center of my chest. He rubbed his face into it and breathed me in. I felt our magic equalize and Shawn glanced up at me. His eyes flared open as he felt the magic flow become mutual between us. "Oh, wow." Shawn breathed and his eyes narrowed again. "I want to make love until I can't tell us apart."

"That's what I want." I agreed.

And that's what we did.