Brent Sinatra: All of Me (5 page)

“Yeah you!
 
And me
too.
 
Both of us like the ladies.
 
But you can’t pull that shit with your main
lady right under your nose.
 
Women claim
to be all liberated, but she will not be amused.”

Brent had a reputation around town as a ladies’ man, but most
of the ladies who were claiming to have slept with him were lying.
 
Before Makayla came along, he was very discreet
and discerning with the way he gave it out.
 
Since Makayla, he wasn’t giving it out at all.
 
She was all he needed or wanted.
 
“We’ll be okay,” he responded.

“I don’t know now,” Eddie said doubtfully.
 
“You’re a confirmed bachelor, Brent.
 
You said yourself countless times that nobody
was tying you down.
 
Now that she’s
coming to town, you are, by definition, tied down.
 
What changed?”

Brent knew what changed.
 
When Mal left D.C. and moved back to Maine, he knew what a sacrifice
that was for her.
 
And to give up even
more to move to Jericho?
 
She showed him
what she was made of.
 
She showed him
that she was not going to break his heart the way every woman before her had done.
 
And now he was ready to make her his.
  
Officially.
  
He
had changed.

“What gives?” Eddie asked.

Brent frowned.
 
“Who
are you?
 
Fucking Oprah?
 
You ask too many questions.”

Eddie studied Brent, as if he was wondering if there was some
daylight there; if there was an opening for him to exploit now that the lady
was coming to town.
 
“But you’re certain
she’s the one?”

Brent frowned.
 
“Of
course she’s the one!
 
What do you think
I’ve been doing for four years?
 
Playing
games with her?”

“You haven’t married her, I know that.”

Brent exhaled.
 
Then
nodded.
 
“True.”

“And until that happens, she’s fair game.”

Brent looked at his friend.
 
Eddie was a hard guy to figure out, but he’d stab Brent in the back over
the right woman.
 
Brent knew that.
 
He also knew that Makayla, in Eddie’s eyes
too, was that right woman.

“What if she gives you an ultimatum?” Eddie asked, still
fishing, it seemed to Brent.
 
“What if
she demands marriage or she’ll leave you?”

Brent hesitated.
 
The
very idea of losing Makayla, even in some hypothetical way, was a terrifying
suggestion.
 
“Then I’ll be getting married
sooner than I thought,” he said, and patted Eddie on his back.
 
“I’m out of here.
 
If you need me, don’t call me.”

Eddie laughed, and Brent left.

But Eddie exhaled.
 
Brent wasn’t fooling him. It was one thing to have a woman in another
town.
 
He still had that space he
cherished.
 
It was another thing to have
her under your nose, watching your every move, listening to women talk about
the good old days when they had you too.
 
Makayla was a special lady to Eddie.
 
She wasn’t going to take anybody’s bullshit.
 
Not even Brent’s.
 
And when it happened, when Brent messed up,
he was going to be waiting in the wings for his chance with Makayla.
 
Brent was more than his boss, he was his
friend, but all was fair in love and war.
 
The pickings were too slim in Jericho for it not to be.

But Brent wasn’t thinking about love or war by the time he
got back in his truck.
 
He was thinking
about fly fishing.
 
Until he realized he
had left his cell phone on the passenger seat, and a message was waiting.
  
When he saw that the message originated out
of the Attorney General’s office in Augusta, he smiled and retrieved it.
 
Makayla almost always called him on her cell
phone, but every now and then she’d call from her office phone.
 
Apparently this was one of those times.
 
Until he heard the message.

“Hello, Brent, this is Joan.”
 
Joan was Makayla’s friend.
 
“I
don’t know how to tell you this, and please don’t panic, but there’s been a
shooting here at the Capitol, in Makayla’s office.
 
Neal Grassley, I don’t know if you remember
him,” she continued, but Brent’s heart was already hammering.
 
And he had already shifted gears and was
taking off even before he heard the full message.
 
And even after he heard the full message he
was driving like a madman through the streets of Jericho.
 
He was driving like a man with nothing left
to lose going to see about the one and only woman capable, just by being in
harm’s way herself, of decimating him.

She showered, put on her pajamas, and got into bed.
 
Not because she was still shaken, she was
surprisingly calm, but because Makayla Ross was grateful to be alive.
 
Four hours ago, when Neal fired that gun, she
thought for certain her life was over.
 
She had gone from her highest high to her lowest low.
 
But when she realized he had not shot her,
but had shot himself, she couldn’t help but feel relief.
 
And when the doctor declared that Neal,
although in very serious condition, was expected to recover, she rejoiced.
 
And phoned Brent.
 
And told him she was fine, that Joan was
wrong to worry him by calling him, and that he didn’t need to come to Augusta
at all.
 
He said okay, and she thought he
meant it, but apparently he didn’t.

Because now, in the four hours it took him to journey from
Jericho to Augusta, she heard what sounded like a high-revved truck on her
driveway.
 
When she got out of bed and
looked out of her bedroom window, she saw that it was Brent.
 
And suddenly, just seeing him step out of
that truck, filled her heart with joy.
 
She had asked him not to come because it was such a long drive and she
was concerned for him.
 
He came because
of his concern for her.

“He came!” she said like a kid, as she hurried toward her
bedroom door, her heart pounding with excitement.
 
But when she remembered how Brent loved to do
her whenever he showed up, no matter what the circumstance, she stopped, pulled
down her pajama pants, and quickly stepped out of them.
 
She tossed them onto a chair, leaving her big
pajama shirt as her only clothing, and then ran out of her bedroom and down her
stairs.
 
Her staff and the other
attorneys in the AG’ office had this button-down image of her as all business
all the time.
 
But they never saw her
with Brent.
 
Brent brought out the kid in
her.

By the time she made it downstairs, hurried across the foyer,
and opened her front door, Brent was just heading up the walkway.
 
And her heart leaped with even more
gladness.
 
He wore a suit, but man did he
wear it well. He looked fine as wine to her with his thick, wavy black hair,
his bright, grass-green eyes, and that athletically-built body that turned her
on in every way.
 
Even as she stood at
her front door, with that Maine wind whipping her in her brown face, she
couldn’t help but admire the man coming her way.
 
Her eyes even trailed down to that bundle
between his legs, a bundle she could already feel pleasuring her as he
approached her, a bundle that she always craved whenever he wasn’t with her.
But he was with her now.
 
Her man was in
town.
 
It felt like Christmas to her!

When Brent saw her standing there and saw for himself that
she was alright, he smiled a smile that lit up his face.

Just seeing him smile made her love him as much as she
desired him, and she couldn’t help herself.
 
She ran to him.
  
In only a pajama
top that barely covered her behind, in the cool Maine air, she ran to him.
 

“You came!” she said excitedly as he took her into his arms,
and lifted her up.

“Are you truly alright?” he asked her.
 
He looked into her eyes, as if that would
tell him the real story.

“I’m absolutely alright now that you’re here,” Makayla said,
and Brent relaxed.
 
Since he first
received that phone call from Joan, he relaxed.

“And that prick is going to pull through?” he asked.

“Yeah, thank God.
 
But
he’s in a lot of trouble.”

“You mean with me?
 
You’re right about that.”

“No, silly.
 
With the
Feds.
 
My supervisor said he’s been under
investigation for money laundering and they were closing in on him.”

“Geez, what a lovely man.”

“I think he came here to try and rekindle his past, because
he knew he had no future.
 
But he wanted
it the way it used to be, before he went to D.C., before he decided to accept
bribes and indulge his greed.
 
He’s got a
world of trouble, but none of it includes me.”

“I know,” Brent said, rubbing down her hair, “but I still
hate what he put you through.
 
I still
hate that he had to bring his sickness to you.”

Makayla nodded.
 
She
agreed.
 
Then she smiled.
 
“I’m just so happy you didn’t listen to me,
and came anyway.”

Brent smiled too.
 
“No
way were you going to go through this alone,” he said, and stared at her
mouth.
 
He wanted to kiss her
desperately, and was about to, but Makayla stopped him.

“We aren’t exactly in the privacy of my home,” she said, and
Brent suddenly remembered where they were.
 
He looked around, saw an old lady standing on her stoop staring at them,
and then he smiled and carried Makayla inside.

It felt as if it had been so long, when it hadn’t been that
long since they were together, and he wanted to relish feeling her in his arms
again. He had so many women in his lifetime, so many different women, but none
of them held his heart the way Makayla did.
 
Not one!

He carried her across her threshold and closed the door
behind them.
 
As soon as that door
closed, she wrapped her legs around him.
 
He could feel the nakedness between her legs press against his cock, and
he placed his hands beneath the bottom of her pajama shirt and cupped her bare
ass.
 
And they began kissing like the
star-crossed lovers they sometimes felt they were, in the foyer of her quiet home.

“You’re certain you’re okay?” he asked her when his mouth
finally gave hers a break and began kissing her face and neck.

“I’ve never been better,” she said as she lifted her neck to
give him fuller access.

“You’re alone?” he asked as he continued to kiss her.

“Always when you aren’t here,” she replied.

And that was all he needed to hear.
 
He began carrying her toward the stairs.
 
He stopped, at the foot of the stairs, and
sat her on the second stair.
 
She leaned
back as he lifted her pajamas top off of her body, rendering her completely
naked, opened her legs, and began to lick her.

“
Ooo yeah
,” she
said with unbridled passion as her hands rested in his hair and her legs opened
wider, nearly touching the side of the rails.
  
It had been so long since she felt his tongue that she nearly laid back
on the stairs, arching and pulsating, as he went down on her heartily.

For several minutes all that could be heard was the sounds of
his tongue gliding across her womanhood with those lapping sounds, as he gave
her the kind of pleasure that felt as if a ball of fire had been unleashed
throughout her entire body.
 
She cried in
ecstasy as he went down on her.
 
He was
taking her to the brink of cum with every lick.
 
It became so intense that even he could barely contain himself, as his
penis began to expand to the point of near-cum itself.
 
And it became more desperate.

He lifted her into his arms and began carrying her further
upstairs, kissing and sucking her big, bobbling breasts as he did.
 
She was well-endowed top to bottom, and he
missed her fullness.
 
She was the first
woman he’d ever had that actually looked womanly in every way, a body type he
had never experienced before he met her, but was now the type he preferred.

“
Makayla
,” he kept
saying, as he rubbed his lips against her breasts and lips and face and
hair.
 
“
Makayla
!” And he was sucking her breasts again.

She held on as he sucked her.
 
Nobody did her like Brent.
 
And when
he took her into her bedroom, and tossed her on the bed the way he always did
her, he watched her breasts bounce up and down in a way that made him groan
with lust.

He tossed off his suitcoat and lifted off his shirt,
revealing his thick pecs and his six-pack.
 
And when he dropped his pants and briefs, and revealed his already stiff
cock pointing straight at her, Makayla’s eyes lit up as brilliantly as the
sun.
 
Brent was her gold standard.
 
He was the man she compared every other man
to, and none of them came close to passing the test.
 

And when he laid his naked body on top of her nakedness, and
began sucking her breasts all the more, and fingering her with one and then two
digits, pushing his fingers so deep inside of her vagina that she became saturated
in her own juices, she understood why there was no comparison.
 
Brent handled her with care.
 
He cared about her.
 
He wasn’t there just to get his rocks off and
hers be damned.
 
He was there to give to
her as good as he took from her.
 

And that was the deciding factor for Makayla.
  
That was why, despite their enormous
differences, despite their long-term, long-distance relationship that had
become so strained that they once had to separate to salvage it, she knew she
was not going to find another man like him.
 
Neal and her so-called friends could talk the talk until they were blue
in the face.
 
They could denigrate
Brent’s career and elevate Makayla’s until there was no elevation left.
 
Brent was one of a kind.
 
A good man like this was too hard to find.
 
Every woman who’d ever been with him knew it
too, just like Makayla, who was nobody’s fool, knew it best.
 
Their separation taught her a valuable
lesson, and what happened with Neal, and what that high life did to him, only
crystallized it for her.
 
Brent was that
bird in the hand that wanted her, and needed her.
 
Her career were birds in a bush that may or
may not be enough for her.
 
She wasn’t
about to lose a man like Brent to gain a career that could be as devastatingly
lonely as it would be fulfilling.

Brent was thinking too.
 
All he could think about was Makayla and what her mere presence did to
him.
 
He was overwhelmed with love for
this woman.
 
When she opened that door
and he saw her beautiful face again, he could hardly contain himself.
 
She was his.
 
He was fooling himself for thinking otherwise.
 
She belonged to him and would belong to him
forever.
 
And to think that she was in
such danger just hours ago.
 
He could
barely contain his relief.

But as he looked at her beautiful brown face that was the
perfect blend of roundness and chisel; at her big eyes that looked like pools
of softness; at her naked body that was lying beneath him now, beckoning for
him to take her to heights only they could go together, he was so enraptured,
so completely enchanted with every inch of her body, that he knew he had to
short-circuit this.
 
He was going to cum
if he did not put it in.
 
He needed the
big event.
 
The ride over had been too
stressful for teasers.

He guided his fully aroused dick inside of her wet opening
and began a slow entry that felt more like a massage to her.
 
He massaged her pussy.
 
He pushed in and then almost out, he pushed
in and then almost out, until he found his rhythm.
 
Until he was fucking her with precision
strokes.
 

Both of them groaned out the feeling of a long time coming as
soon as he began to move rhythmically.
 
He placed both of his hands on the side of her face, her long hair as
beautifully bouncy as her breasts, and he stared at her with loving eyes.
 
She was the woman he wanted above any other
woman.
 
He put up with this long distance
affair as long as he had because she was the one for him.
 
And the idea of giving her up, of giving
this
up, was too painful for him to even
contemplate.
  
If she decided her career
meant more, how was he going to handle it?
 
How was he going to live without her?
 
If right now was any indication, he couldn’t.
 
He would give up Maine and his own career, to
keep her.

He laid down on top of her, holding her in his arms, and
fucked her for longer than he thought he could keep it up.
 
But that was the thing with Makayla.
 
He always entered her with lust dominating
his heart, always on the brink of cum, but as soon as he entered her his lust
became love and it was no longer about cumming. It was about loving.
  
And he didn’t want the feeling to end.
 
He didn’t want to climax too soon.