Diamond in the Rough: Chapter 67 (adult)

"You're just completely misinformed, and this is why we had our previous argument,"  Dorian yelled.  Jack, outside the living room door, was on his way out, when the loudness caught his attention.

"Misinformed, how?  Ya can't convince me of much when ya start yelling and carrying on."  Timothy said. "I thought we had been through this?"

"Now he's got her off on some goose chase, following the ghost of his family skeletons.  I am telling you, he's put her through more grief, and I've tried to hold my tongue."  Dorian answered.

"It isn't working, because it's flapping now."

She was infuriated and picked up a knicknack from the mantle and threw it.  It narrowly missed him.  She said, "There!"

"I don't understand ya, Dorie.  This makes very little sense.  He's left his issues behind him, he's trying to move on.  He's done nothing but try to win back his life, his family.  Ya must see that."

"Move on?  He's got her embroiled in yet another problem.  She confided in me that this trip is about more abuse and torment from his past. . .and no doubt holds trouble for them.  How long does this have to go on?  Do you realize what kind of people he was raised by?  The freak of a father he lived with had a secret room."

"How is this about Todd?  Or Blair?  What does who they were have to do with him, ay?"

"He's got her involved in another hurtful situation.  She lost that baby girl because of him and his associations.  I don't know when she will learn."

The ire was in his throat as Jack burst into the room.  "Aunt Dorian, when are you going to stop talking about my father like that?"

***

They walked into the Trump International Towers Hotel, and in the lobby, Blair said, "Should we call Starr?"

Todd went to the gift shop.  "Go ahead, I'll get a snack."

She dialed and put her ear to the phone.  "Hey, Starr?  It's Mom."

"Mom!  You're all right, aren't you?  And Dad?"

Blair looked carefully to see if he were coming, and then said, "He's. . .I guess okay.  So far he is."  She choked up.  "Starr, it was . . . horrible."

"Oh, Mom," she said, sitting down, and trying to keep her own emotions in check, "it's going to be okay, isn't it?"

Blair attempted to pull it together, keeping an eye on Todd's whereabouts.  "I don't want him to hear me, but Starr, it was like a horror film.  I don't know how . . . he survived."

She took a breath.  "Is he all right?"

Blair's wave of anxiety and tears passed.  "He seems to be fine.  It was as if, once we walked out of the house, he was all right again, just back to being as strong as he is."

"Good," she breathed relief.  In her bedroom at La Boulaie, she lay back on the bed and continued to talk.  "Everything's status quo here.  Jack's himself, Sam's a cutie, as he always is, Mom.  He loves Dad and you so much.  He's a loving little boy, considering."

"You mean considering what he's been through?"

"Yeah, that."

"Well . . ." she thought about it.  "Your father is deeply loving.  And believe me, his growing up was nothing but torment."

Starr said, "Can I talk to him?"

"Yeah, actually, here he comes.  Bye Starr, I love you."

"Bye Mom, love you, too."  She waited.  "Dad?"

"Hey, Shorty."

She was relieved at the sound of his voice.  She said, "Dad, how are you?"

"Pretty good.  Your mother and I are at this swanky hotel here, and we're about to have a nice evening."

"I'm glad.  Are you . . . are you all right, Dad?"

"Yes.  I am all right.  Thanks for asking.  How are your brothers?"

"They're great, Dad.  Don't worry about us.  Take care of yourself and Mom."

"I will.  I love you, Shorty."

As they hung up, Blair took his arm and draped it around her.  "Come on, then," she said, "Let's go upstairs.  I can't wait to get into that room.  It's so beautiful here, Todd.  You spoil me."

"Nothing better to do with all that money.  Let's go."

Inside the suite, Todd had earlier thrown their bags on the floor, and almost tripped over them before turning to her.  "You know me.  What am I thinking?"

She smiled, and put her arms around his neck.  "You're thinking of a very, very, big, beautiful pizza."

He laughed, and said, "Maybe."  He gave her the side-eye.  "What else?"

"You're thinking about, maybe, that big, beautiful bed right there?"

He gave her another side eye, "Maybe."  He seemed distracted.  She was a little worried about him, but let him take the lead.  She kicked her shoes off, and they flew against the luggage.  It brought his and her attention to the metal box, as one of her shoes clanged against it.  She said, "Oh."

He ignored it.  "No.  Not now," and he put his hands on either side of her face.  "No, Blair.  I've been waiting all day to do this," and he kissed her, as if there was never another kiss before between them.

She let him passionately embrace her lips with his, and then said, "God, I love you, Todd Manning.  I love you so much."

He didn't answer, he just walked her back toward the bed, taking her mouth with his again.  She felt him, hard and warm, against her, and she knew he needed her.  He didn't just want her.  It was need.  He moved his mouth to her chest, and she said, "Tell me, My Love, what is it?  What can I do to make you happy?"

"You're already doing it," he said, turning her away from him and bending her gently over the bed.  He undid her slacks, and slid them down.  Her blouse was still on, but unbuttoned; she heard his belt clanging behind her as he undid it.  She perched herself on all fours and rubbed her bottom against him, looking back over her shoulder at him, and caught an expression on his face that was overtaken with both desire and pain.  She worried for a moment about him, but waited for his next move.  She would be whatever he needed, right then, and for always.

Before she knew it, he was running his tongue along her from the back, and she gasped, unprepared.  She flushed with anticipation and want.  A mewling sound escaped from her mouth, as he continued licking her and worked his tongue and lips against the inside of her thigh, and then parted her legs and used the same loving licks against her until she couldn't take more.  She saw the shadow of him come up on the bed behind her, and braced herself as he slid inside her from the back, and she arched herself up toward him.  

He kissed her shoulder, and her back, and put one of his large, masculine hands on her head, running it through her hair.  As he moved, she felt herself more excited by his moans and words; he was talking to her, something he rarely did, and every word made shivers go through her.  Every stroke of him within her felt powerful and more driving than the one before.  She became lost in feelings of exquisite want that were growing and surging through her, and she felt addicted and full.  Then, he stopped, and pulled out of her, falling onto the bed.  He was panting, and his hand was over his forehead, his expression was slightly pained.

She looked at him, and said nothing.  She waited for him, sitting back on her haunches a bit, her blouse still on, but open.

He said, "I guess I . . . can't.  I keep . . ."

She, confused at first, said, "Then don't."

He said, "I felt . . .I'm just . . .that place."

"Stop."  She lay beside him, and took his hand.  "This was a hard day."

He said, "I don't want to leave you that way.  You know how I feel about that."

She smiled, "Once in almost twenty years won't kill me, Todd."

He said, "No, I guess not," as if he were somewhere else.  She was worried that he was so distraught.  Anxiety and exhaustion were on his face.

She said, "Or, I could just do this," she said, taking her hand away from his, and moving it down her stomach.  She said, "Nothing you have to worry about, I'm right here, and there's just you and me.  Just us," and she intentionally tipped her head back and closed her eyes.  She whispered, "I could just...do this. . . for myself . . . and you can just watch."

"You could do that, yeah," he said.

After a few moments of stroking herself, she said, "Yeah."  

She peeked to look at him.  His side-eye was back, and ao was his half-smirk and a sexiness in his eyes as he watched her.

She put her hand against herself and started to move her fingers more rapidly, whispering seductively.  He didn't look away; in fact, she watched as he became completely engrossed in watching her.  After a few minutes, she saw him take hold of himself, and run his hand up his own length, before turning on top of her and pushing himself inside.  He moaned softly, and said, "I love you," finding her eyes.

She said, "I love you," and kissed him, as the rest of it somehow slipped away as he made love to her.

***

"Jack, you were listening?"  Dorian said, awkwardly.

"Yeah, I was listening.  I thought at Christmas you said you were going to stop?"

She didn't answer.  Timothy said, "She can't seem to, Lad."

"My father would never do anything to hurt my mother.  At least, not on purpose.  Not anymore."

"That may be true," she began, "but he ends up hurting her, just the same."

"She's a grown up, let her make her own decisions.  If you had done that in the past, according to Starr, they wouldn't have gone through half as much.  I mean, what do you want from him, Aunt Dorian?"

Starr, having just finished her phone conversation, walked in.  "Jack, what's going on?"

"She's at it again."  Starr walked through them, and sat herself on the couch, quiet.  Jack said, "Did you hear me?"

She looked up, and with tears in her eyes, Starr said, "Yeah, I heard you."

Jack was alarmed. "Starr, what's wrong?" he went to her side and sat down.

"I just talked to Mom and Dad.  Mom said it was horrible.  He sounded okay, but she said it was . . . bad."

Timothy's face drew, and Dorian put her hands on her hips.  "There.  See?  I'm not so off-base."

"Are you stopping to think what this is doing to him?"  Starr asked.  "If he were alone, or didn't have her.  My God, he'd . . .what if he . . ."

"Starr, ya must stop.  Ya must have faith that your father will pull through this, as he does everything else."  She broke down, and Timothy sat on the other side of her, taking her in his arms.  

Jack fumbled enough to take her hand on the other side.  She said, "I just can't watch him take anymore.  When does this end?  It seems like all he has in front of him every day is some kid of sadness.  How can he do all this?"

Timothy said, "There, there, now.  Ya know the answer already.  Jack does, don't ya, Jack?"

"I think I do.  It's Mom, and us."  He looked over Starr's shoulder and caught Dorian's eye.  "Mom can take care of herself.  She just can."

"Really?  Is that why she lost another child?  That makes three dead children."  Dorian said.

"None of that was his fault!  What are you saying?"  Starr broke out of her tears and shouted.  "Things happened.  It's life."

"It's bigger than that," Dorian said, "Sometimes we can give life a nudge with our actions. And your father seems to be an expert at that.  I'm going out." she said, and stormed away.

The door slammed, and the aftermath was silence, with a few sniffles from Starr.  Timothy said, "Ya both know your father will come out of this all right, as he did before.  And yes, it's because of y'ar mother and because of ya both.  Now, calm yourself, Dear Heart,"  he hugged her a bit closer, and then let go.  

She said, "Whatever they saw at the house he grew up in, I could tell that Mom thought it was bad.  She didn't have long to talk, but she was broken up."

"Let's stay calm.  Please."  Timothy said.  Jack, who had been quiet, was just lost in thought.  Timothy turned to him, "Son, would ya feel better if I called them?"

Jack said, "Whatever," but his eyes were filled with worry.

Timothy said, "Laddy, what is it?"

"Nothing,"  Jack said.  "Just call, okay?"

Timothy took Starr's phone and dialed.  "Bridgette?  Y'ar children are sick with worry, and so is this old man here."

"Timothy?  Are they okay?"  Blair said, still softly combing through Todd's hair with her fingers.  He was resting on her chest and dozing.

"Something in your voice, and what went on today.  We needed to know that he's all right, Dear.  'Tis all."

"He's . . . good.  He's resting.  He's having a tough time of it, but it's nothing we weren't expecting," Blair said.  "I think he'll be okay."

"Good.  I'll pass the word, unless ya have a moment to speak to them."

"Sure," Blair said, and moving a little to get more comfortable, she accidentally woke him.  He heard her.  "Hi Jack, it's Mom.  Yes, we're all right.  Dad's fine, he's right here.  Bad?  Well . . .I'll let him tell you."

Blair handed the phone off to Todd, who sleepily took it.  "Hey, Bud.  What's up?"

"Dad,"  Jack said, and his voice caught a bit in his throat, "are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine.  I talked to Starr today.  She knows I am okay."

He repeated, "Starr knows you are okay?"   Starr shook her head no.  Jack said, "She's not so sure, Dad."

Todd realized that it probably was not helping to smooth things over, so he softened his voice and said, "Listen, Jack.  It was bad.  I won't say it wasn't.  Being back at that house, and seeing the . . . place, it wasn't easy.  But your mother is right here for me, and I'm fine.  I'm not going to fall apart.  I'm not going to leave you, Jack."

Jack became quiet, and gulped down emotion.  "Okay."

"Tell your sister, same deal.  I love you, both."

"Okay, Dad.  I love you, too."

They hung up.  Jack said, "Dad said to tell everyone he's okay and that Mom is taking care of him."

Starr said, "I guess that's what we have to go on."  She finally sighed.

Timothy said, "See?  Do ya feel better?  They'll be home in a few days.  Maybe sooner."

Sam rushed in the room.  "Hi!  School's over, I got a hundred!"

Starr said, "Let me see, Sam.  Spelling!  You're just a total spelling bee."

"Yeah, he's a pain in the butt like a bee, too,"  Jack said, tackling the little boy onto the pillows, and giving him a tickle.  "No, that's great, Squirt."

Sam said, "Mom will be happy.  When are they coming home?"

Timothy said, "Oh, Sam, me boy, calm y'arself.  They've only been gone about a day."

"Yeah, that's true.  I guess,"  Sam agreed.

Starr said, "I'm going to go and wake Hope.  That nap was too long."  She went out of the room, and Jack watched her go, saying, "I'm going to beat up Sam!"  She waved them off, and continued.

Timothy said, "Well, all's well that ends well, eh Jack?"

"Yeah, sure.  I guess."

Timothy rose to leave, and Jack wished he would just stay.  Instead of saying so, he pretended to pay no attention to the man, and picked up Sam, flying him around like an airplane before dumping him onto the couch.  Timothy said, "Goodbye, boys.  See ya later."

Both said their goodbyes, and Jack said, "I have an idea."

"What?"  Sam said, encouraged.

"I have an idea for a great plan."

"Okay, what plan?"

"Wanna help me have some fun with Aunt Dorian?"

"What kind of fun?  I don't wanna get in trouble."

"Nothing bad.  Well, not too bad.  We make a new game.  Whatever she tells us to do, we do the opposite.  But, we check with each other first."

"The opposite game?  Okay.  But I like the repeating game better."

"What's that, again?"

"Someone talks and you repeat everything they say."

Jack laughed and nodded.  "We can play both.  Is that okay?"

"Yep!"

"Okay, then shake."  They did.  "But remember, check with me first when you do the opposite game."

Jack got a secure feeling inside him that he would, for all intents and purposes, have some form of revenge for the words his Aunt had spit about his father.  There would be no harm in it; but it would definitely be fun and he would get great satisfaction from it as Dorian found them both to be huge catalysts to aggravation.  He smiled, but something inside him continued to tell him his father's pain was not quite over.

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