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Perfume Ch. 01

By: MsLaLa31



AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hi everyone. I've been reading romance novels for years and finally decided to try my hand at writing my own story. This one is about Wynston, a Black BBW who is looking for true, passionate love. Her love interest in the story, Eric is a Puerto Rican who is finally settling down and is looking for a love of his own as well. 

Please feel free to leave comments and feedback as I will use them to gauge whether or not I will complete the story. I hope you all are entertained and fall in love with the characters as I have. 

*

She couldn't believe it. Wynston sat at her computer, blankly staring at the monitor. This had to be a mistake. She had gone online to check her banking account, only to find that she had a balance of -$608.00. 

According to her posted activities, her car payment was drafted from her account twice! This could NOT be happening! 

Wynston looked at the clock on the taskbar...damn it! The bank had long closed and talking to someone about her account would have to wait until morning. Meanwhile, she prayed that the owner of her son's day care had not cashed her check yet. The last thing she needed was more bounced items and overdraft fees.

Wynston sighed and shut down her computer. This couldn't be all there was to life. As she rested her head on her hand, she wondered if she would ever be in a better place. Would she ever come to a point in her life where she didn't have to constantly count pennies? 

Her head came up as she cocked her ear, listening for sounds. She didn't hear anything coming from the other room. She'd better go check on her son.

As she made her way to his room, her somber mood lifted slightly. Terrence was 4-years-old and a miniature tornado. His TV was at full volume, blaring a Wonder Pets episode. Trucks, Mega Blocks and DVDs were strewn all across the floor; and in the middle of it all was her little cub.

Apparently, he'd worn himself out and had fallen asleep on the floor while playing. Wynston was thankful. She did not have the energy to argue with Terrence about his bedtime tonight. The negative balance on her checking account had deflated her. 

She lovingly picked him up and placed him gently in his bed. She smiled when he flipped onto his stomach, and scooted up on his knees so that his little rump was in the air. After straightening up the room a bit and turning the volume down on the TV, Wynston turned off the lights and quietly walked out of Terrence's room.

She decided that she would watch a little TV in the living room. It was this part of the day that Wynston looked forward to. When her son was asleep and the apartment was quiet, she could unwind and spend time with herself. She flipped through the channels for about an hour when the usual feelings of longing and loneliness began to creep in on her. 

Wynston had broken up with Terrence's father three years ago...well, to be honest, she had packed up her shit and hauled ass with her baby in tow. 

"Good riddance," she mumbled to herself as she thought about her tumultuous relationship with her ex. Wynston was extremely happy with the choice she'd made to leave that nasty son of a bitch; she'd dodged a fucking bullet. 

As time passed, her ex only confirmed what she already knew. That he was not the man for her, and she was better off without him. In retaliation, he had dragged her through a lengthy custody battle all because he could. So much time and money had been wasted on nonsense...

Not tonight. Wynston didn't feel like dredging up the past. As she turned off the TV and got ready for bed, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Eying herself critically, she turned to the left, then to the right. She sighed at her reflection. Sure she was pretty and she always took care with her appearance. But she used to be a damn bombshell.

Just five years ago she had looked and felt like a goddess...until she'd gotten pregnant. Ironically, though, Wynston hadn't gained that much weight during her pregnancy. It was after Terrence had gotten sick that she put on the weight. He had only been 5 months old.

Her son had been in and out of the hospital nonstop. There were surgeries, biopsies, procedures, tubes that ran all throughout his body... during one particular hospital visit, Terrence had stayed for two weeks. That's when Wynston had learned that she was a stress eater. 

Her eyes wandered down to her stomach. Gone were the flat abs that she'd never had to worry about. Now she had a small, fleshy paunch, and it had been damn impossible to get rid of. 

Enough of this! Wynston shook herself, threw on a t-shirt and climbed into bed. As she lay there, she thought about how she wanted to go forward with her life. She was now at a place where she was open to dating and starting a new relationship. This time, she wanted more...hell, she wanted it all. She wanted the fairy tale, the romance, the soul mate, star-crossed lovers deal. She wanted to be consumed.

Was she naïve to think that kind of love was possible? Wynston didn't know. But what she did know was that there was a very big, auspicious hole in her life. And moreover, it had been two long years since she'd enjoyed a man between her thighs. As she drifted off to sleep, the last thing she thought about was how nice it would've felt to have two big, strong arms wrapped around her. ***

The next morning, as Wynston dressed for work, she reached into the drawer on her nightstand. She needed something to life her spirits badly. Today, after she dropped Terrence at day care, she was going to the bank to talk about her account. 

Pulling out the pretty, heavy bottle, she took off the top, closed her eyes and inhaled. The One by Dolce & Gabbana was her favorite fragrance. She used it sparingly as it was pretty expensive. After eye-balling it for almost a year, she'd bought a bottle on a whim when she'd gotten her bonus. It had been the only treat she'd allowed herself in ages; and on days like this, she pulled it out when she wanted to feel pretty. 

Wynston grabbed her purse and Terrence's backpack as they headed out the door. Hopefully the bank would see that this was a huge mistake. She sent up a silent prayer to every benevolent force that she knew of; because today, she would need a miracle.

***

Eric glanced down at his watch again. Shit! Could the bank teller move any fucking slower?! He watched as she talked to the customer in front of him. Apparently the two were acquaintances and they obviously weren't talking about banking. 

Eric was usually a patient man, but he had a real problem with insolent people. At the top of his list were asshole customer service reps. 

He clenched his jaw and stared pointedly at the teller. When she caught sight of him, he watched as she perked up with interest. Eric mentally rolled his eyes. He usually received this kind of attention from women. He knew that he was handsome; but to him, it wasn't a big deal. It wasn't like he sat around all day thinking about his looks. 

But what Eric Torres didn't understand, was that he was beautiful. His 6'4" frame towered over most. He wasn't a hulking mass of muscle, but he had a very lean, athletic build. Because he largely sat at a desk all day, Eric found it imperative to make time to work out or play basketball with his boys.

He kept his dark hair cut low and his goatee neatly trimmed. He owned the most beautiful, honey-colored eyes that were framed by girly lashes. They had been a source of teasing for as long as he could remember. His nose was straight and his lips were full and kissable. If he was not as masculine as he was, he would've been pretty. 

The opposite sex had always told him how gorgeous he was; and so Eric began to use his looks to his advantage. From middle school through college and well into adulthood, his top priority in all things was sex - even money came second. 

He spent the day planning who he was going to screw, where and when; and then...he executed. There was never a deficit in willing participants either. Girls and women alike were always throwing themselves at him. So of course, Eric indulged.

But now that he was 35-years-old, he was tired of it all. Actually, by the time he'd turned 30, he began to slow down from all his womanizing. Damn him if he didn't start wanting more from his relationships. During one of their many talks, his dad had told him this day would come. Eric hadn't believed him. In his opinion, what sane man would willfully give up all the ass he could handle for the same, one woman? Every night. Apparently, him.

Eric had not been intimate with a woman in six months. For a man like him, that was the equivalent to an eternity. He had a huge libido and could very easily dial up one of the women he had on reserve. But he didn't. None of them was relationship-material; and Eric, honest man that he was, admitted to himself that he now wanted something more. 

He even toyed with the idea of marriage, and eventually a home and children. As Senior Fraud Analyst at his firm, Eric had done well for himself at a relatively young age. The money was excellent, and he loved his job; but the one thing that was missing from his life was love. "Sir can I help you?" Eric was pulled from his thoughts as the teller motioned to him. 

"Yes, good morning," Eric said in his deep baritone. "I'd like to deposit into this account." He slid a deposit slip and a check for $500 toward the teller.

"Okay. I can certainly help you with that," she said a little too syrupy. She was openly flirting with him.

As the bank teller entered the account number into the computer, Eric braced himself for what he knew to be the inevitable. Sure enough Angela Reed - as her name tag showed - glanced up and smiled brightly. "Are you having a good morning so far?"

Eric sighed. Why did people insist on chatting when they were handling his money? He politely replied. "Yes, I am, thank you. And yourself?" 

Angela gazed at him, slowly nodding her head. Eric didn't have time for this. He was not coming on to this girl in the least. But here she was blushing as if he'd handed her a dozen roses. 

"Um, and may I see your ID, please?" 

Eric did as she asked. "The account isn't mine. It's my mother's. I just wanted to deposit the money into it," Eric explained.

Angela's voice lowered. "Okay. We're not supposed to give account information or receipts to non-account holders. But I'll make an exception this time." She winked.

Eric's eyebrow shot up. What the fuck? For a split second he seriously debated outting her but decided against it. He actually was kind of surprised by her. She was aggressive in a way that defied her appearance. She was a skinny, mousy little thing. Her brown hair had been pulled back in a knot and she wore the thickest glasses Eric had ever seen on a woman so young. 

Angela was kind of tall but way too thin for his tastes; and her clothes didn't flatter her at all. She wasn't ugly. Just... whatever she was, Eric wasn't interested. He wished she would hurry up so he could be on his way. At this rate, he'd never get to work.

He watched as she wrote something on the back of the receipt. When she was done, she slid the slip of paper to him and told him to have a nice day. As he walked away from the counter, he looked down to see that Angela had written her name and phone number.

***

Wynston glanced at her cell phone. The bank would be open in about two minutes, and already there were a few cars in the parking lot. Some people were standing outside, waiting for the doors to open. She hated it when other people had the same idea as her. 

It looked like she wasn't going to get to work as early as she'd hoped...not with this many people waiting. As the doors were unlocked, and people hurriedly filed in, Wynston realized she'd left her driver's license in the back pocket of her jeans...at home. SHIT!!!! 

She turned around and stomped back to her car. This was definitely going to be a long day.

***

By the time Wynston made it back to the bank, she was hot and frustrated. It was already shaping up to be one of those days. As she walked to the end of the line, her shoulders dropped. A million people were now ahead of her, and there were only two tellers at the front. 

As Wynston read the CNN crawl on the bottom of the mounted flat screen TV, she became aware of the man standing in front of her. She had not noticed him before because she had been so irritated. Now that the A/C had begun to cool her and the line was slowly moving, she took in his extremely tall frame. He had to be about 6'3" or so...much taller than her 5'6" frame. 

From what she could see, he was dressed in an expensive-looking dark suit, and his head was bowed as if he was reading something. From the back, he was handsome. As usual, curiosity got the better of her. 

Wynston tried to peak around him to get a glimpse of his profile. I bet he's ugly, she thought. As if he'd been privy to her thoughts, the tall guy looked around and then turned to pin her with his amber gaze. Wynston's eyes grew large with surprise. He definitely was NOT ugly!

***

Eric was pissed. The teller had put his deposit into the wrong account. He didn't know if she'd done it on purpose, knowing he would come back, or if she'd been that much of an idiot. All he knew, was he was not pleased with having to turn around and get back in that long ass line. Angela had better pray he didn't end up in front of her again. 

As he was staring down at the receipt in his hand, Eric caught a whiff of perfume. It wasn't any ordinary fragrance, either. It was lovely...very, soft and very feminine.

He looked up from the receipt and tried to locate the source. It definitely wasn't the dude standing in front of him...at least he hoped not. No, he had just caught the smell, so it had to have belonged to someone who'd just come in. 

On Eric's left was the counter that held the deposit/withdrawal slips and envelopes. Nobody was standing there. On his right was a waiting area and a pretty old security guard.

Eric looked behind him and down into the prettiest face he'd seen in a while. As he watched, the lovely woman stared back at him, clearly surprised. When she shifted to take a step back, Eric smelled the perfume again. It was definitely coming from her. 

He beheld the vision before him. The woman wore her hair short. She had a cute, heart-shaped face and a pert little nose. Her lips were full and sparkling with lip gloss. 

Then there were her eyes. They were ridiculously beautiful. There wasn't anything significant about the color...it was just that they were so large with thick, long lashes framing them. 

She had smooth mocha skin and her body was very curvy the way Eric liked. Her breasts were large above wide, curvy hips that fanned out from her small waist. Her thighs were thick and womanly. 

Instinct told him this creature was different from the women he'd always dealt with. All of them were jaded and had a hardness about them. This woman, though...she had a sweet air of innocence about her that Eric found refreshing. 

Of course, he could be wrong. She could've been hell on two legs. For that matter, she could've already been taken. He hoped neither was the case, because she had captured his full attention.

Perfume Ch. 03



AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hi everyone! Thanks to those of you who are still with me. I love getting your reactions to each new chapter!

I consider Chapter 3 to be the breakthrough chapter because everything up to this point, has served as a build up in order for me to take Eric and Wynston where I want them to go. 

In the next chapter, I will work to develop their relationship more; so thank you so much for being patient while the story unfolds.

Keep those comments coming; I love hearing from you!

LaLa

*

For the umpteenth time that day, Eric cursed the bank teller. He wanted to wring her scrawny little neck for fucking up his money.

Now he was in a bank during a robbery. 

But he never dwelled on what couldn't be changed. 

Instead, he thought of how terrified the teller must be right now, along with everyone else who was still in the lobby. He sent up a silent prayer for their safety.

Eric admitted to himself that if not for Angela's blunder, he would not have been thrown together with the woman who was now in his arms.

He and the woman were nestled rather intimately in the small utility room near the restrooms. 

She had been trembling, so he'd wrapped his arms around her protectively, trying his best to offer her comfort.

But she was choking him.

In her angst, she had grabbed his lapel in one hand; and in the other, she had a death grip on his tie. 

He very gently removed her fingers from it and offered his other lapel for her to destroy.

"Sorry," she whispered shakily. 

"Don't worry about it," he whispered back, giving her a reassuring squeeze.

Later—and there would be a later...he would make damn sure of it—Eric needed to explore his actions. 

He didn't quite understand why he felt so strongly about this woman whom he didn't even know; he just knew that he did.

But before he could indulge himself with thoughts of her, they had to get out of there safely first. 

So he put the alluring female out of his mind and focused on survival.

***

Two women exited the bank. One wore a blonde wig, the other a red wig. They both gave subtle nods of the head as they parted ways.

Their job had been to render the two loan officers unconscious. 

Normally there were four loan counselors in all, and their offices were located toward the back of the bank, away from the lobby. 

However, this week one was on vacation and another wasn't scheduled to arrive until later. 

This left Mr. Stan Bateman and Mrs. Veronica West who had unfortunately shown for work today.

By procuring two "appointments," the blonde and the red head were each able to take the unsuspecting loan representatives by surprise, and quickly insert the solution of aspirin and water into their veins.

This left Stan and Veronica unconscious, their bodies slumped over their desks.

***

The occupants of the minivan sprang into action, swiftly entering the bank. 

"LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, THIS IS A STICK UP!" yelled Rob. 

What followed was mayhem; people began to scream and panic.

"FIRST, I WANT EVERYBODY TO SHUT THE FUCK UP!!! NEXT, I WANT YOUR HANDS BEHIND YOUR HEADS! WE ONLY CAME HERE FOR ONE THING...THAT WOULD BE THE MONEY! YOU OBEY EVERYTHING I SAY, YOU WALK OUTTA HERE SAFELY TO GO HOME TO YOUR FAMILIES! I DON'T WANT ANY FUCKING HEROES, OR I WILL DROP YOU!" he threatened.

Rob felt the familiar rush of adrenaline he always did during a heist. He was a fucking adrenaline junkie and lived for this shit. It had been too long since their last job.

He motioned to Ethan who nodded and jumped over the counter like a gazelle. Then he signaled to Greer and Mike, and the two of them took off toward the restrooms.

While Ethan handled the tellers, Rob walked in front of each customer and had them drop their cell phones into a plastic garbage bag. He had the women toss their purses in the middle of the floor.

"OK, YOU HEARD THE MAN. I WANT ALL YOUR PURSES, WALLETS AND CELL PHONES," Ethan told the employees. 

"GOOD!" he said, as they each slid their belongings toward him. 

"NOW PUT YOUR HANDS BEHIND YOUR HEADS AND GET DOWN ON THE FLOOR...EXCEPT YOU TWO," he said motioning to Octavia and her co-worker Andrew. 

Ethan pointed them in the direction of the cash drawers. 

"Open them and take out the cash now!!! Move like you mean it or I'll blow your fucking brains out!" Ethan said nastily. 

"Nice ass you got there, ma'am," he said to Octavia as she rushed to open the first drawer. 

"Hey Boss, I see something I want...can I keep her?" he asked, flippantly.

"Maybe," Rob called. "After we get the money we'll see if there's room for her!"

He eyed the clock on the wall and was pleased to find that they were ahead of schedule.

Grabbing two large, black duffel bags Rob tossed them over the counter to Ethan.

"ALRIGHT, YOU MA'AM, FILL THIS BAG. YOU SIR, FILL THAT ONE...PRONTO!!! TIME IS MONEY!!! AND DON'T EVEN THINK ABOUT THROWING IN A DYE PACK OR I WILL MAIM YOU!" Ethan promised.

As Rob patrolled the front where the customers all laid obediently on the floor, they heard the blaring of sirens approaching. 

He and Ethan stood frozen in place as the sirens grew louder.

No one moved a muscle.

One-by-one, six police cars sped pass the bank and down the street. The relief emanating from Rob and Ethan was palpable. 

Their plan had worked. 

An "anonymous caller" had reported a bank robbery at one of the smaller banks a few miles away. It was designed to throw the authorities off of their scent.

Rob turned to look at Ethan who started to laugh. Soon, both men were laughing uproariously. 

"I swear I just aged ten years, man!!!" Ethan called to Rob.

"No shit," Rob replied.

For a split second, they had been nervous that their plan had gone awry...which was always a risk during these kinds of jobs. 

Nothing was guaranteed and something could always go wrong...which was the appeal for them.

But too much of a good thing was often deadly. It was time to kick this thing into high gear so they could get the hell out of there.

***

Wynston had never been so terrified in her life. Her heart was pounding in such a way that she was sure the robbers could hear it from their positions in the lobby. 

In that moment, she longed for the simplicity of life, and relished the thought of speaking to a banker about her overdrawn account. 

It would be so much milder than experiencing this kind of terror. 

Then she thought of how unpredictable life was.

When her gorgeous savior had dragged her to the utility room, Wynston had wondered if she had anything to fear from him. As it turned out, he had protected her from danger.

Which brought another question to mind...how had he known the bank was going to be robbed?

Then Wynston contemplated the morality of what they'd done. The two of them had left the others out there to fend for themselves. 

Were she and this man selfish people? 

Her tangled thoughts turned to her son...her beautiful, innocent little boy. 

Would she ever see him again or would he have to live the rest of his life motherless? 

No, Wynston thought. He would not be motherless. She would fight to live for her son if it came down to it.

Her musings were interrupted when she felt her stranger shift.

He moved ever so slowly and pulled his BlackBerry out of its holster. She watched him put the phone on silent, and dial 911.

Wynston could hear the dispatcher on the other end. 

"911, what is your emergency?" she asked.

"My name is Eric Torres. I'm at the National Bank of Baltimore on Fayette St. The bank is being robbed," he said quietly.

He only stayed on the line long enough for the dispatcher to repeat back what he'd said, and to answer a couple of pertinent questions. Then he pushed the End button, disconnecting the call. 

Eric Torres, Wynston thought. His name was Eric...it was fitting.

Then her brain began to function. "I should turn off my cell phone, too. What if it rings?" she asked.

Before Eric could answer, they heard shouting and footsteps coming toward them.

"Check that one and I'll check this one," a voice ordered. 

Wynston and Eric listened as the bathroom doors on either side of them burst open. 

They could hear stall doors being slammed open, the robbers obviously looking for anyone who may have gone in there.

"Nothing, right?" one of the men asked. 

"Nah. You?" replied the second man. 

The first robber sounded irritated, "Empty. I told you and Rob there would be nothing to worry about. It's too damn early in the morning. But nobody can ever say shit to any of you. I told you, we've got this!"

"Look, you little fucker," growled the second robber. 

"Don't call anybody by name...we told you that already. I'm warning you, do not dick around with me. You got a problem with my brother fucking your girl, you deal with him later. But don't you even think about fucking this up. Just stick to the goddamn plan so we can do what we came to do, and get the fuck outta here," he barked. 

"Now what about this door?" he asked, turning the doorknob. "It's locked."

"It's a closet for custodians or something. Don't worry about it! Let's just get this show on the road!" the first man said.

As the closet's occupants listened, they heard the welcome sound of retreating footsteps. Wynston was relieved. They were safe...at least for the time being.

***

Eric's jaw clenched as he stood there listening to the exchange between the two robbers. 

He almost laughed, the situation was so ridiculous.

One of the robbers was Mike. He thought the other voice belonged to that kid Greer who always used to follow Rob around like a lapdog. 

If Mike and Greer were here doing a job, Rob and Ethan had to be somewhere in the bank as well...Greer had pretty much confirmed that.

Unbelievable. 

What were the odds that they would hit this particular bank...today...while he was in it? 

And he had just called the cops on them. 

Eric knew for certain that when they found out he had made the call to the police, they would come after him. 

There was no way his brothers would believe that he hadn't tried to snitch on them.

***

Greer was humiliated. 

Not only had Mike just talked down to him as if he weren't a man, but he was now sure that Rob was fucking Octavia. 

That first day when he'd introduced Octavia to Rob more than a year ago, he had seen the looks Rob had given her...he had looked at her like she was a piece of meat. 

And what's worse, he'd done it right there in front of Greer as if he wasn't even in the room.

When Rob had sent him to the bar with Ethan and asked—no commanded Octavia to stay behind, Greer hadn't really thought anything of it. 

He had just figured Rob was being thorough; and besides, Greer had been high off the fact that the Torres brothers wanted in on his plan.

HIS fucking plan, he thought bitterly. 

Now here he was, stripped of his manhood, his woman and taking orders from the Torres's on a plan he had masterminded. 

Greer knew it was a matter of time before Octavia left him for Rob; and he was pissed the fuck off. He had essentially made all of them richer, and this was his reward. 

Fuck that, he thought. 

Right then he made up his mind. For once in his miserable life, he would grow a pair and handle his business. 

If he could architect a bank heist such as this one, revenge should be a cake walk. 

He even knew who his first target would be.

***

As she stuffed money from the cash drawers into the duffel bag, Octavia was both thrilled and scared. She was thrilled because they were finally pulling off this job.

And Rob...she'd never seen him so intense before. 

Usually he was very laid back and never raised his voice...he never needed to. But there was always a hint of danger that lingered around him. 

Today, she'd gotten a glimpse of it. He was barking orders at everyone like he was a drill sergeant. She loved it.

Apparently she had been acting more thrilled than scared because Ethan shoved his 9mm in her face with a nasty, "Don't fuck with me, bitch! Get the money in the bag faster," he warned. 

Octavia was going to get him back for that later. She focused on playing her part. 

Then she remembered that Eric guy and the woman he dragged away from the lobby with him. What the hell should she do about that? 

She had intended to fix the situation, but there was no way she could do that without varying from the plan; and that was a no-no. 

Octavia decided she would tell Rob as soon as she could; however, she would conveniently leave out the events that led to Eric seeing them beforehand. 

Hopefully Greer and Mike had already found the two troublemakers and she wouldn't have to say anything at all.

She continued to feverishly fling the money into the waiting bag. When all the drawers had been cleaned, she put her hands behind her head and waited for more instructions.

"Very nice," Ethan said to Octavia, slapping her on the ass.

"Now I want all you employees to get up, put your hands back behind your heads and walk single-file to the middle of the lobby," he instructed, kicking their discarded cell phones out of the way. 

"My, my, we have such good little boys and girls!" he taunted as the frightened employees followed his orders. 

"That's right, join the rest of your compadres...nice and easy," he said.

Ethan quickly grabbed Octavia by the back of the neck. "Uh, uh, uh little girl, my boss has got plans for you!" he said.

He roughly pushed Octavia toward Rob who in turn pushed her toward the back of the bank. "Take me to the vault, sweetheart," he commanded.

"TIME IS WINDING DOWN, BOSS. MAKE THIS ONE COUNT," Ethan yelled after them.

As Rob and Octavia met up with Mike and Greer, they kept up the hostage act for the cameras. Once at the vault, they all collectively gasped, unable to believe their luck. 

It was true. 

The vault's security was laughable and took Greer only moments to disable with his high-tech gadgets. 

Even though they had done extensive research, they were all still surprised by the amount of money that the bank carried. 

Most banks only kept enough to service their customers' needs on a daily basis. This one was a veritable gold mine. 

It was all too simple. 

The crew worked quickly and fluidly to load their duffel bags neatly with money. At Octavia's direction, they were careful to avoid the stacks with the dreaded dye packs.

Then, Octavia unlocked targeted safe deposit boxes in which owners had foolishly placed valuables such as expensive jewelry and money. 

Rob looked at his watch. "Alright, let's wrap this shit up. We only have a few minutes left to get the fuck outta here."

He grabbed Octavia and wrapped his arm around her neck in a choke hold. 

"You know, you're getting too good at that," she muttered. 

"Later on when I choke you, it will be with your pussy squeezing my dick," he said thickly.

Octavia immediately felt a pool in her panties.

"Did you guys find the two customers that came this way?" she asked.

Rob tensed. "What fucking customers?" he demanded.

"There were two of them....a man and a woman. You couldn't miss the guy...he's like a giant or something." Octavia said.

She left out how fine he was.

Rob swung around to look at Mike and Greer.

"We didn't see anybody. We kicked in every single bathroom door," Mike said.

"Find them," Rob said menacingly.

"Look bro, we don't have time for this shit. We got the money, let's get the fuck outta here," Mike reasoned.

"I DON'T GIVE A FUCK!" Rob shouted. "Did anybody stop to think what if these two called the cops?! Who knows what the fuck they've been doing this entire time! Find them!" he snarled.

Mike shot Octavia a nasty look and ran in the direction of the loan offices while Greer once again went into the men's restrooms. 

Rob dragged Octavia with him into the women's restrooms. Once in there, he removed his hold and the both of them searched the stalls.

Nothing.

As the four met once again, they all confirmed that they hadn't found anyone.

"Look, we need to get outta here, man," Greer began. 

But he was interrupted by Mike. "Normally I would agree, but we have a problem."

All eyes swung to him. 

"Earlier when we checked the bathrooms, dickhead here decided he wanted to use names," Mike said.

"If we got two people running around here unaccounted for, it's possible they could've heard him use your name," Mike said looking at Rob.

Rob cursed profusely. Just when he would rip Greer a new one, Ethan shouted from the front. They only had a few more minutes to make their getaway.

Rob was about to give the order to leave, when Mike uttered a string of curse words.

"That motherfucking closet!" he yelled, looking at the small door that had bothered him earlier. "They're in the fucking closet!!!"

Once again, everyone turned in unison, directing their gazes at the small utility room.

"Do you have the key?" Rob asked Octavia.

Wordlessly she walked toward the small door. Fumbling with the keychain around her wrist, she struggled to quickly find the correct key.

Her hands stilled. Behind her, the three men froze. 

There was the unmistakable cry of police sirens in the distance.

"What the fuck?" Rob said incredulously. 

At the same moment, they heard Ethan's voice from the lobby. "GET IN HERE NOW!!! WE GOT COMPANY ON THE WAY!!!"

***

The utility room was sweltering. 

And now, the two occupants were listening to the jingle of keys, preparing for the worst.

Then there was the blessed sound of retreating footsteps, then silence.

Once again, they sighed with relief.

All of a sudden, a key was inserted in the lock and the door swung open, emitting the blinding brightness of fluorescent lighting and daylight.

Eric instinctively shoved the woman behind him; and when his vision adjusted, he found that he was staring down the barrel of a Smith & Wesson.

***

Rob stared into a pair of hazel eyes that were similar to his own. He lowered the gun slightly, not believing that the missing person in question was his brother; the "giant" as Octavia had called him.

He chuckled mirthlessly.

"Well, well, well. Fancy meeting you here, little brother," Rob said, pointing the gun back up at Eric. 

He didn't trust the bastard.

"Likewise," Eric replied quietly.

Rob didn't like Eric's tone. Fuck that, he didn't like Eric...hated his guts was more like it. Eric was the only motherfucker who made him nervous; and it pissed Rob off. 

His resentment was only compounded by the fact that Eric was two years younger than him. 

Fucker.

Movement behind Eric caught Rob's attention. An attractive woman peeked around Eric at him. 

It was obvious he had been shielding her from Rob. 

Interesting. 

"Care to introduce me to your friend?" he asked. His conversational tone was deceptive.

Eric's eyes ignited with golden fire as he once again pushed the woman behind him, blocking her from Rob's prying eyes. 

"Not particularly," Eric drawled. 

He paused unperceptively as he felt his companion slip something cool into his hand. It was a...pipe of some sort.

What the hell was he supposed to do with that? Swing at bullets with it??

Fuck it. It was better than nothing...he would make it work. 

"That bitch must have you wide open if you can't even introduce me, brother. Maybe I'll take her home with me and beat the shit out of that pussy," Rob said provocatively.

Big mistake.

Eric swung the heavy pipe for all he was worth.

It connected with Rob's hand, forcing him to drop the gun as he howled in pain.

"SHIT, YOU FUCKING BASTARD!" Rob howled.

Ripping the mask off of Rob's head, Eric grabbed him by the neck, bringing his face within inches of Rob's.




Perfume Ch. 03



"I want to see your face before I fuck you up," he said darkly.

He made good on his word.

Eric swung his fists, battering Rob's face.

When he doubled over in pain, Eric pushed Rob backward with his foot, sending him sliding across the marble floor.

He charged after Rob and would've continued his assault, but was distracted when he heard feminine screaming behind him. 

Unfortunately for Eric, he didn't turn quickly enough to see the figure lunging at him. 

He could not avoid the blinding pain as the butt of the gun connected to his skull. 

Eric slumped to the floor motionless. 

***

When he came to, Eric tried to open his eyes, but immediately recoiled from the explosion of pain in his head. 

"Shit!" he groaned.

"Shh...don't try to move," a soft voice said to him.

He tried to open his eyes and saw nothing but blue and red lights swarming before his face.

"Fuck, I'm blind!" he bellowed.

The voice giggled.

"No, you're not blind. Maybe seeing stars from that blow you took, but not blind," she reassured.

Everything came rushing back to Eric...the bank robbery, his brothers, his effort to beat the shit out of Rob. 

Gradually Eric became aware of that same perfume from earlier.

Her...

He opened his eyes a crack to confirm what he already knew.

She was the one who had been speaking to him. Her voice had been soft, smooth and melodic. 

He wondered...

"Do you sing?" he asked, venturing to open his eyes fully.

"Wha--uh, yeah...I dabble here and there. Why do you ask?" She was clearly flustered. 

"You have one of those voices—really smooth...kinda husky. It's sexy," he said.

"Wow. Are you really trying to hit on me with that big goose egg on your head?" she asked teasingly.

"Is it that bad?" he asked as he gingerly touched the huge knot on his forehead.

"Yeah, sorry, but...I'm not sure if that pretty face will make it," she quipped.

Eric's deep voice rumbled with laughter. He immediately regretted it, clenching his teeth from the pain. 

"Oh, I'm so sorry, I won't do that again. I promise," she apologized as he groaned.

"Nah, it's alright. It was funny. Beauty and a sense of humor...you don't see that every day," he said softly, his gaze focusing on her lovely face. 

Eric knew he was staring but he didn't care. As a matter of fact, he wanted her to know how much she affected him.

Wynston blushed prettily, taken aback by the intensity in his green eyes. 

"Thank you," she said shyly.

The butterflies in her belly were fluttering wildly. He made her so nervous!

Her expression turned serious.

"Listen, I really want to thank you for saving my life like...ALL day today. I don't know how I could ever repay you," she said quietly.

"Well, shit...I can tell you now how you can thank me," Eric said.

His beauty tossed back her head and let out a lusty laugh. 

People looked in their direction, so she covered her mouth and immediately quieted down.

He liked to hear her laugh and would probably make an ass of himself from this point forward just to hear it again.

"I have a question, though," he said.

She looked at him inquisitively. 

"Shoot," she said.

"A pipe?" he asked, looking at her sideways.

Again, his companion dissolved into laughter.

Yeah, he could definitely get used to hearing her laugh.

"Hey it was all I could find on such short notice," she was saying. "And besides, it worked. I think that guy's handicapped now."

Eric shrugged. "I had to get the gun out of his hand. I knew if I could do that, I could take him."

The woman had grown quiet and now looked uncomfortable. 

Shit...he had scared her.

He hated that she'd witnessed that other side of him...the side where he got so angry, his behavior bordered on irrational.

When Rob had said those obscene things about her, Eric wasn't about to let that ride. Now she was looking at him as if he was a murderer.

It was important to him that she knew he would never hurt her.

"What you saw earlier was a small glimpse into a lifelong hostility between my brother and me," he began.

"If you'll let me, later I want to give you the full story, because I believe it will be important for you to understand. If I know my brothers, this isn't over. In the meantime, just know that you don't have anything to fear from me. I don't know why, but I feel like I'd do anything to protect you," he said frankly. 

Wynston was floored.

"But you don't even know me," she said.

Eric grinned, showing even, white teeth. 

"I've been trying to tell myself that all day," he said.

Wynston watched Eric as he reclined easily on the stretcher. The paramedics had taken off his jacket and tie; and now he sat with his shirt opened slightly, sleeves rolled up.

The white, crispness of his shirt contrasted sharply with his swarthy skin. 

He reminded her of a Calvin Klein ad.

She had joked about his appearance earlier, but the truth was the big wound on his head did nothing whatsoever to detract from his sex appeal. If anything, it made him seem dangerous. 

The man was just tantalizing...plain and simple.

Something told her he was probably used to women falling at his feet in droves. 

As he lounged there as if the events of the day hadn't taken place, she now knew Eric was not as mild or harmless as he seemed. 

She had witnessed the other, powerful side of him; and she knew that under the right circumstances, he could be volatile.

But she knew without a doubt that he wouldn't hurt her. 

Wynston always relied heavily on her instincts; and they told her that he was good...why else had he protected her the way he had?

When his brother had opened the closet door and discovered them, Eric had transformed into a different person. Gone was the gentle man who had held her and reassured her. 

He had not cowered, but had acted forcefully and effectively. 

Wynston had been scared witless and was angry when the brother had said such nasty things about her. 

She had stood behind Eric, silently cheering him on...until one of the other bastards came back from the lobby and cold-clocked him. 

Very spineless, she thought. 

Wynston had tried to warn Eric but the other thief had been too quick. If she had been able to, she would have beaten the crap out of that guy herself. 

But they had made it out safely, and she owed it all to Eric. 

"Oddly enough, I trust you," she told him softly.

Eric nodded his approval. He was very satisfied with her answer.

***

He reluctantly pulled his eyes away from her to take in his surroundings. As he looked around, the scene reminded him of something from "Law and Order." 

There were police cars, fire trucks and ambulances everywhere...which accounted for the blue and red he saw a few moments ago when he thought that he'd been blind.

Really smooth, he thought, wryly.

Officers were all over the place talking to bank employees and customers. News vans and reporters peppered the street, interviewing victims and law officials.

He and his companion were at the back of an ambulance; he was lying on a stretcher, and she was sitting on the back of the vehicle beside him.

"What's your name?" he asked suddenly.

"Oh, I'm sorry! With everything that happened, I forgot to introduce myself," she explained.

"Wynston at your service," she joked.

Eric wanted her to service him alright. "Wynston," he said, experimenting with the name on his tongue. 

"Wynston...very unusual. What's the story behind it?" he asked.

"There's no story or anything. My great-grandmother's name was Wynston and my mom named me after her. That's all," she said with a shrug.

"I like it, Wynston. So what happened after I got knocked out?" he asked.

"Well, after you went Sugar Shane Mosley on your brother, another guy snuck up on you like a punk and hit you with the butt of his gun," she began.

"Then, all hell broke loose because your brother wanted to finish you off, but the cops were coming...the cops you called. So the other robbers dragged your brother out along with that teller—who I believe was an accomplice," she continued. 

Rob's brow furrowed. "Why do you say that?" he asked.

"Because while you were fighting, the teller was saying stuff like, 'Get up baby!' 'Fuck him up, baby!'" Wynston said. 

"I assumed she wasn't talking to you. And when they ran out of the bank, she left with them," she finished.

"Son of a bitch," Eric muttered. And he had felt sorry for her.

"There's one more thing...they said this isn't over and that they're coming for the both of us," she finished grimly.

Eric shook his head. "Figures," he sighed. 

"How long have I been out?" he thought to ask.

"About an hour. That guy really walloped you something fierce," she said. 

Wynston had a few questions of her own; but before she could ask, they were interrupted by the detective she had spoken with earlier.

***

Detective Anthony Mowry was a distinguished-looking Black man in his late-40s. He was of average height and a little on the stocky side, which he owed to his love of good food. 

He was dedicated to solving crimes and had been on the force for twenty years...ten of which he had spent trying to connect the Torres brothers with bank robberies around the city. 

"Mr. Torres, glad to have you back with us," he said, extending his hand to Eric. 

As Eric shook his hand, he dreaded the imminent line of questioning the detective would fire at him. It didn't matter how much he disliked his brothers, he wasn't a snitch.

"Detective Mowry," he said introducing himself. "Looks like the perps got you pretty good there," the detective said, motioning to the swelling on Eric's head.

"Yeah, but you should see the other guy's face," Eric replied lazily.

He already didn't like this detective.

"We heard about your heroics, Mr. Torres," Detective Mowry began. 

"You're a bit of a hero around here...although, I don't know if what you did was brave or foolish. You could've gotten hurt worse than you did, even shot or killed. What made you feel like you could take the robbers on like that?" he asked, thinly veiling his accusation. 

Eric simply stared at the detective.

Wynston looked back and forth between the two men. When Eric didn't say anything, she spoke up, coming to his defense.

"Really, Detective Mowry, are you accusing him of something? As I've already told you, he saved my life multiple times today, as well as everyone else in that bank. If not for Mr. Torres's quick thinking, who knows what would've happened?" she said bewildered at Mowry's accusatory tone.

He held up his hands, not wanting to offend her. 

Damn, she was pretty. 

"Ms. Hughes-Grey, these are just routine questions I have to ask. I'm not trying to upset anyone," he said quickly.

"You know what? You've been through a lot today. Let the medics look you over to make sure everything is alright. If you remember anything, please give me a call," he said reassuringly as he handed her another one of his cards.

Eric's eyes narrowed. He hadn't missed the way the detective had gone all gentle when he'd looked at Wynston. 

He didn't like that shit one bit.

"Mr. Torres, they'll probably want to take a look at that injury down at the hospital and check for a concussion. I'll get your statement then," the detective said. 

The two men eyed one another squarely, their dislike of each other mutual.

When Eric didn't bother to respond, the detective handed him one of his cards and walked away.

***

"That went well," Wynston said dryly as Eric rested his head on the gurney.

Suddenly he lifted his head again. 

"Wait...Hughes-Grey? Does that mean you're married??" he asked incredulously.

Wynston looked confused, and then she smiled. 

"Uhhh...no. I'm not married," she said, her eyes twinkling.

"Hughes is my mother's maiden name and Grey is my dad's last name," she explained.

Struggling to rein in his emotions, Eric couldn't believe how relieved he felt. 

He'd been with countless women, but none of them had ever made him feel all twisted up like this; and his game...it was nonexistent. 

He still had one more question, though. 

"So...you're not married. Is there anyone who would be concerned about you? A boyfriend, maybe?" he asked, raising a thick, dark brow. 

Eric was sure he had played that one cool. 

Wynston pursed her lips and tried not to laugh. He SO was not playing it cool. But she was absolutely delighted that this yummy, Puerto Rican Adonis was checking for her.

"No, I'm not with anyone, Eric," she said softly, her big, expressive eyes earnest. 

He looked at her, his now-green eyes smoldering. Her words had put him out of his misery, and had been as good as an invitation. 

Eric hoped Wynston understood what she'd just said to him; because he wanted her, and he was going to have her.

As they gazed at each other soulfully, something in their universe shifted. No one else existed but the two. 

The events of the day-no, FATE had brought them together.

They continued to look at each other deeply, not knowing what the future held. 

But what they did know was that after today, nothing would ever be the same.



Perfume Ch. 04



Wynston was exhausted.

After the robbery, she and Eric had gone to the hospital to have his injury looked at. 

While they waited for the results of his CT scans, Eric answered all Detective Mowry's questions about the robbery and his connection to the robbers...well, almost all. 

Eric had become tight-lipped when it came to his relationship with his brothers. He had infuriated Detective Mowry so badly that the detective had threatened to cite him with withholding information. 

To his credit, Eric was completely unaffected by Detective Mowry's bluff. 

Eric knew that he couldn't possibly be held for withholding when he'd known nothing about the robbery to begin with.

Wynston had been impressed. If it had been her, she would've folded and probably would've given names, addresses, phone numbers...everything she knew.

Thankfully, the doctor chose that moment to interrupt the heated exchange between the two men, and told them that the test results showed that there was no concussion. 

Eric and Wynston had been free to go...until the detective dropped his bomb on them.

Detective Mowry had felt sure that Eric's brothers would come after them. As a precautionary measure, he had made arrangements for them to stay in a hotel which would be heavily guarded by officers.

Wynston and Eric had decided to go by his place first for a change of clothes. Then they would go to her apartment which was a short distance away. 

But upon entering Eric's condo, they had found that the place had been trashed.

It was obvious that Eric's home had been lavish. He lived in sumptuous downtown Baltimore with its tall skyscrapers, affluent residents and attractive nightlife. 

Even now in its wrecked state, Wynston could see that the furniture was expensive. 

Dark leather couches that had once been sturdy and plush now sat gutted and marred. 

Beautiful lamps and tables were broken; and Eric's black, granite floors had been damaged beyond repair. 

Huge plants that once sat in tall, stately vases were turned over; there was glass everywhere, and even a beautiful, grand piano had been battered.

Wynston had very nearly freaked out. 

She didn't know how much more of this shit she could take; and even more than that, she'd felt horrible for Eric.

They had immediately returned to Eric's SUV and called the detective who then had a squad car pick them up. 

This time, they were going to the police station.

Once there, Detective Mowry had broken the news to Wynston. 

He had sent officers to her apartment only to find that it had been ransacked as well.

Wynston had felt sick. 

What if she had been home with her baby when those people had shown up?

She had never been so thankful for her ex than she was in that moment. Terrence had gone to his father's that weekend, so she knew he would be safe.

What followed was a nightmare. 

The officers had her and Eric exit from the back of the police station and took them to the hotel. 

They had to enter through the kitchens, taking the freight elevator up to their floor.

Once at their rooms, the detective had introduced her and Eric to the officers who would sit outside their doors.

And now, Wynston sat in her room, scared shitless. Every little sound made her jump, her nerves were so frail.

Damn this, she thought.

Wynston opened her door wide enough to poke her head out. One of the officers immediately came to stand in front of her.

"Ms. Hughes-Grey is something the matter?" he asked. Earlier he'd said his name was Officer Sloan.

"Actually, officer, there's no way I can stay in here alone all night. There shouldn't be a problem if I went into Mr. Torres's room, should there?" she asked.

Officer Sloan raised his eyebrow. The other officer behind him cleared his throat from where he sat.

It suddenly occurred to Wynston how it would look if she slept in Eric's room.

Then she got irritated. 

She'd had a long damn day; and she was not going to explain herself to these two assholes who didn't know a thing about what she and Eric had gone through. 

She immediately contradicted herself.

"Look, you can think what you want, but Mr. Torres protected me and saved my life today. YES, I do feel safer with him. So if I were you...I'd think about why I feel safer with a Fraud Analyst than I do with two police officers standing outside my door," she said meaningfully.

With that, Wynston stuck her nose in the air imperiously, leaving the two policemen staring after her. 

Before she could even knock on Eric's door, it swung open and Eric stepped aside so she could enter.

As she walked into the room, she didn't see him wiggle his eyebrows at the officers, wickedly. 

And she missed it when the two men chuckled and elbowed each other as the door closed behind her.

Once in the room, it amazed Wynston how she immediately felt safer...so much so that hunger and fatigue assaulted her in a rush.

Collapsing on Eric's bed, she groaned. "I'm starving...and exhausted. I don't know if I should eat or sleep. Maybe I could eat while I'm sleeping," she said comically.

Eric grinned. 

"Well I can help you with one of those. I asked the officers if we could get a pizza delivered...should be here shortly. I hope you like pepperoni," he said.

"I'll take it," she mumbled, her face buried in the pillow.

Wynston marveled again at how comfortable she felt with Eric. No matter how hard she tried not to be, she found that she was drawn to him. 

Before she knew it, she had drifted off to sleep.

***

About an hour later, Wynston awakened disoriented, the hunger pain in her stomach now insistent. 

She opened her eyes and stared down at the pillow she was lying on...it wasn't familiar to her. 

Wynston had no idea where she was. 

She jumped at the sound of Eric's voice.

"Hey, Sleepy Head. I was about to give up on you," he said lazily.

Wynston turned to see that he was lying on his side, watching her. 

He had taken off his dress shirt and was now lounging in a white, cotton tank. His pants were unbuttoned.

Eric had a very sexy 5 o'clock shadow that gave him an air of danger; and those golden eyes...they were smoldering. 

Wynston felt a familiar ache between her legs; and her breasts immediately swelled against her bra.

He was too damn yummy for words, she thought.

Then she closed her eyes as she had another thought.

"Please tell me you didn't watch me sleep," she moaned, burying her head into the pillow.

"Okay, I didn't watch you sleep," Eric replied. Wynston looked at him with narrowed eyes.

"Lies! I hope I drooled. It would serve you right for watching people while they're asleep," she grumbled.

Eric chuckled. "You actually did. I tried to wipe it up with a napkin but I ended up needing a towel. You--" 

Before he could finish, Wynston gasped and hit him with the pillow.

"I didn't!!!!" she shrieked.

Eric's deep voice boomed as he laughed at her discomfort. "Nah, you didn't," he said chuckling.

"You were beautiful. Looked like an angel," he replied seductively.

Her stomach did a flip flop. Why did he constantly have to say things like that to her? 

How was she supposed to respond?

Thankfully she didn't have to.

"Pizza's here. It's a little cold now but shouldn't be too bad," Eric said reaching for the pizza box from the nightstand.

"How are you feeling?" she asked as he handed Wynston the box and a can of soda.

"My head is fine. It's everything else I'm concerned about," he said.

"Yeah, I know. This whole thing has taken on a life of its own, hasn't it? I still can't believe your brothers did that to your place," she said as she bit into her pizza.

"I have a few questions, though. Are you up to talking now?" she asked.

Eric nodded his head. "Only if I can ask you questions as well," he replied.

"Deal. First question...how did you know the bank was going to be robbed?" she asked carefully. 

It had been bugging her all day that there was the slightest possibility that Eric could've been a part of the robbery.

"Actually, I owe that to you," he said. 

Wynston looked up at him, surprised.

"I smelled your perfume when you walked up behind me. I'd turned around to find the source and saw you standing there. I was about to devastate you with my charm, and make your knees weak wh--" 

Eric stopped when Wynston looked at him and rolled her eyes.

"You would've gone weak in the knees by the time I got done with you...trust me. Remind me later to give you a demonstration," he said confidently. 

"Anyway, that's when I happened to see my brothers getting out of the van. Except at the time I didn't know they were my brothers," he finished.

"So in a way, I'm the one who actually saved our lives," Wynston said smugly.

It was Eric's turn to roll his eyes. Wynston laughed.

"Next question. What's the story behind you and your brothers? Why do you guys hate each other so much?" she asked.

Eric sighed. 

That was a loaded question. Eric had been fighting with them for so long that he didn't even know where to begin.

He thought for a moment before he began to speak.

"Rob, Mike and Ethan are my half-brothers. My father was married to their mother," he began. 

"Rob is the oldest followed by Mike, then me and lastly Ethan." He paused, waiting to see if Wynston would make the connection.

She sat chewing a mouthful of pizza with her head cocked to the side. All of a sudden, she looked at him, perplexed.

"You're quick," Eric said. He was pleased.

"I guess now I know part of the reason they hate you so much," she said.

"They definitely have hated me for the majority of our lives. As you've guessed, my father cheated on their mother when Rob and Mike were small. Ethan hadn't even been born yet," he said soberly.

"Ok, people have children outside of their marriages all the time. While it's not right, it's so commonplace. I still don't understand why your brothers hate you so much that they want to kill you," Wynston said.

"The story goes deeper," Eric said. "Maria—their mother—didn't know about our father's infidelity," he said quietly.

"For a long time, I could never understand why my father never stayed with my mom and me longer than a couple hours. He came by often enough, but each visit was always so short. So when I was 12-years-old, I made up in my mind that I would find out where he was spending the rest of his time," Eric explained.

He turned on his back, placing his hands behind his head. 

"After one particular visit with us, I decided to follow my dad. I shadowed him not even four blocks away to a house. The way he walked in made it obvious that he lived there. Well, in my 12-year-old mind, I figured I would surprise him. So I walked up the steps and rang the doorbell." 

Eric stared blindly at the ceiling. 

He was so intense that Wynston knew this story could not have a happy ending.

"This boy who was around my age answered the door. It was Rob; and it was like staring into my own pair of eyes...the similarities between us were blatant. Looking at Rob, I knew something was...wrong," he explained. 

Eric took a deep breath. 

"Then my father came to the door with Maria, who had been holding a baby...Ethan," he said glancing at her.

"I will never forget the expression on my father's face. He looked at me like I had seen something forbidden...like I didn't belong. Anyway, he asked me what I was doing there, but he'd slipped and called me 'son.' Maria immediately put two-and-two together, and after that, all hell broke loose. She started crying and dad was trying to comfort her while simultaneously trying to talk to me," Eric said, sounding tired.

"Finally, papa told her that he couldn't let me walk back home by myself. He said he would take me home and then they would talk when he got back. But Maria had become very withdrawn and quiet...it was almost eerie. Dad and I hadn't even made it down the street when we heard the gunshot," Eric said softly.

Wynston listened quietly, dreading the rest of the story.

"My father got back to the house first, but I already knew it was going to be bad. When I got there, my dad was just screaming and crying...even with everything going on, he was doing his best to keep us from seeing the body," Eric said tenderly. 

It was obvious to Wynston by his tone that Eric still loved his dad very much.

"After papa called the police, he called my mom to come for me. She hadn't known about his other life, either," Eric said shaking his head. 

"He lost everything that day; and he never was the same afterward. Dad still came around, and he's always been in my life but...a part of him checked out when Maria died. When I got older, he told me the guilt was unbearable. He said he could've survived if she'd just kicked him out or never had anything else to do with him. But she took her own life. He never got over that," Eric finished.

Wynston had pushed her food away a long time ago, the story making her lose her appetite. 

Now she curled up next to Eric, placing her head on his shoulder. She wished she could offer him more comfort.

Still in a daze as he finished recounting the story, Eric unconsciously turned toward Wynston, seeking more of her scent.

"After their mother died, Rob had a giant chip on his shoulder...and I was the cause. He and my brothers had to move in with Maria's sister; and from what I've heard, the sister's husband was abusive. My dad sort of disappeared on them; but he was always in my life. When Rob got wind of that, it was over. Mike and Ethan were never so bad; if anything, Mike has always been a follower. Ethan was too young to really understand what was going on; and he's always been sort of easygoing in spite of what happened to them. But Rob...he's always been the leader and he has always been angry," Eric said.

"That must've been hard for you to know that Rob blamed you for everything that went wrong. Have you ever felt guilty about it?" Wynston asked.

"I did at first. I would make efforts to befriend them or even to just talk; but Rob wasn't having it. Things progressively got worse over the years, and as you saw today, I got to the point where I got angry too," Eric said grimly.

"What made you change?" Wynston asked puzzled.

"My brothers would begin to make life hell for my mother and me. Rob blamed her as well for what happened, so the three of them would do petty things like throw bricks through our window, or steal my mom's mail. Sometimes that wasn't so petty especially when mom had been expecting money from relatives. The final straw was when they beat me up on my way home from school. Then they told an adult that my mom had beat me like that. Pretty soon, Child Protective Services was knocking on our door," Eric sad angrily.

Wynston stared at Eric in disbelief. The anger Rob felt toward Eric and his mother was insane! 

What's worse is he was now a grown man and apparently none of that rage had subsided.

"My mom caught hell trying to explain what was going on," Eric was saying. 

"It wasn't until my father stepped in that the authorities backed off. My brothers continued to do things like that until I got older and started to fight back," he said smirking.

At the odd tone in Eric's voice, Wynston lifted her head to see that he was grinning. 

"How did your dad feel about all this animosity between you and your brothers? Did he ever try to put a stop to it?" Wynston asked.

"Yeah, he did. But I think dad is the only person Rob hates more than me. There's never been anything papa has been able to say to him," Eric said sadly.

Wynston mulled over everything Eric had told her and felt sad herself. 

This had been a serious case of misplaced anger and in the end, everyone had wound up losing. 

She wondered if Eric would ever have some sort of decent relationship with his brothers. 

With the way things were going, she doubted it.

Still too wound up to sleep, the two of them talked for hours about their childhoods, relationships, family, friends...even what led to each of them going to the bank that morning.

The bonding they had done was more intimate than love-making. 

Even as they talked, Eric would look at Wynston in that intense way of his; or he would take every opportunity to touch or compliment her.

She was absolutely attracted to him, but Eric still made her nervous. 

It had been two years since she'd been intimate with a man, and the next time she had sex, she wanted it to be right.

Honestly, Wynston didn't know how she should feel about Eric. He was gorgeous, yes. She knew he was attracted to her, but she came with a 4-year-old. 

And how could she even talk about feelings and a relationship when they'd only known each other for a day?

Wynston guessed she could simply talk to Eric before they became intimate...she had no doubt that this sexual man would attempt to sleep with her; and she held no illusions about her will power when he was concerned.

She liked her idea and it put her worries to rest. If she talked to him first and let him know that she was not just a piece of ass, she would be able to find out where his head was.

Wynston felt much better. And as their conversation wound down, and twilight weaved its magic on them, Wynston and Eric slumbered.

***

Wynston awoke once again, this time feeling completely gross.

She was still fully-dressed, tangled in her own clothes; and now she was sweating, the pillowcase and bedding beneath her completely wet.

There was nothing she hated more than sweating while she slept. 

Quietly, so as not to disturb Eric, she got out of the bed and made her way to the bathroom to shower. 

Fifteen minutes later, Wynston emerged feeling refreshed. 

A female officer had come by earlier with a bag of toiletries, and Wynston now rifled through it. 

She was very pleased to find some name brand deodorant...it was trial sized but that didn't matter. 

She also found two white, Baltimore Police Department t-shirts, a couple of toothbrushes, toothpaste, soap, mouthwash, and lotion.

As she smelled the lotion, her nose wrinkled. 

Wynston tossed it back in the bag and opted to use her own lotion that she carried in her purse. 

She noticed a couple more items and when she reached in the bag, she pulled out...underwear?

There was a package of boxers for Eric and a package of panties for her...and her correct size! 

Wynston almost squealed with delight.

Once she had moisturized, she quickly put the panties and t-shirt on. 

She felt a hundred times better. 

Eye-balling her slacks, Wynston wondered if she should put them back on before climbing into bed. 

Like hell, she thought. 

She could never sleep with more than a t-shirt and panties on without feeling constricted. 

Besides, Eric was asleep so she should be okay.

With that, Wynston turned off the lamp and crawled into bed. 

She was careful to keep a comfortable distance between Eric's silent form and hers.

***

Eric listened quietly as Wynston came out of the bathroom, a trail of steam following her. 

He kept his breathing even, and only opened his eyes to narrow slits.

He watched the way she tiptoed around the room, her full hips swaying gently. The towel clung to her body, outlining her curvy, hourglass figure. 

When Wynston looked inside the bag the female officer had brought them, she did a little dance...something good must've been in there, Eric thought. 

He tried his hardest not to smile.

As she pulled items out of the bag, she obviously was delighted with what looked to be underwear. 

Then Eric's heart stopped. 

Wynston dropped the towel and began to smooth lotion onto her entire body. Eric prayed she didn't look back at him...his eyes were wide open now. 




Perfume Ch. 04



The action was so ordinary, yet she made it seem so sensual.

When she finished, she stood up and quickly pulled on the panties, all the while her heavy breasts jiggled and swayed back and forth with her movements. 

The t-shirt was a joke. All it did was pull agonizingly across her lovely globes, accentuating their size.

Eric's dick was excruciatingly hard.

He had planned to woo her slowly so that she could get used to him. 

He hadn't wanted to overwhelm her especially in light of all they'd been through with the robbery and subsequent break-ins.

Eric had forced himself to go slow with her because he knew this woman was special. 

She wouldn't drop her panties right off the rip, and particularly without a commitment. 

Yes, Eric knew without a doubt that she was commitment material...he had no problem with that.

But he wasn't going to wait to fuck her; and Wynston had nobody to blame for that but herself. 

She thought she would come to his bed wearing only a t-shirt and panties, did she? And he was supposed to just be okay with that?

We'll see, Eric thought as she turned off the lamp and climbed into his bed.

***

Wynston was in a deep sleep, and she was incredibly aroused. Her panties were soaking wet and her hips writhed in slow, fervent circles.

Eric had pushed up her shirt to reveal the two, brown goddesses hidden there. He took his time and had been massaging them, squeezing them, and rubbing them. 

He began his assault on her nipples, first licking the left, then the right.

He returned to the first breast and took as much of it into his mouth as he could...which wasn't much. Simultaneously, Eric rubbed his finger over the cleft between Wynston's thick thighs.

She moaned.

He laved the second breast and took as much of it into his mouth. 

But he wanted to taste more of her.

Eric kissed a path down Wynston's soft belly to her trimmed, black curls. Parting her nether lips, he delved into her with his tongue, loving the silken feel of her slippery pussy.

He prayed that he didn't cum right there on the bed.

Eric parted Wynston's thighs wider, and placed them over his shoulders. Reaching up, he once again massaged her breasts as he continued to leisurely stab his tongue at her clit.

***

When Wynston experienced her explosion, she grabbed the sheets, feeling like she had died a thousand deaths. 

Her breathing shallow, she opened her eyes and tried to make sense of what had just happened. 

Had she been dreaming???

Then she felt her legs being placed gently on the bed and almost had a miniature freak-out. 

Before she could scream, Eric raised himself up over her and lowered his lips to hers. 

She could taste the saltiness of her essence on his mouth, and knew that this had been no dream.

Eric's tongue danced passionately with hers as he sucked and bit her lips. 

Wynston's hands crept slowly up his chest to the back of his neck as she kissed him back with just as much ardor.

Her hands roamed down his chest, over his washboard abs to the large bulge in his pants. 

His cock felt huge.

Wynston pushed down Eric's boxers and watched as his dick sprang free. 

Yep...it was huge. And beautiful.

She immediately wrapped her hand around Eric's member and began to stroke it, delightimg in the velvety thickness of it.

Eric pulled away just long enough to pull his underwear off completely and then hers. 

While he was busy with their undergarments, Wynston rushed to pull her shirt over her head and then helped Eric with his.

Completely naked, they stared at each other. 

Wynston was scared...this was completely out of character for her. She had just met this man today and now she was about to let him fuck her.

But he had proven himself to her in more ways than one. She didn't believe that Eric would fuck her and then leave her.

She made good on her earlier promise, and decided to trust him completely.

So Wynston placed her hand around the back of Eric's neck and laid back on the pillow, pulling him to her. As the seconds ticked by, they kissed slowly and deeply. 

When Eric couldn't take any more, he braced himself over her and deliberately, enticingly rubbed his cock along her pussy.

Wynston felt like she was dying all over again. 

His thrusting became deeper and more forceful until the head of his dick slipped inside of her.

They both groaned.

Eric pulled out of Wynston and flexed his hips so that when he pushed back into her, she took more of him. 

He painstakingly moved back and forth, forcing her to take him inch by blissful inch, until she had taken most of his thick length. 

Then he gave a powerful stroke, burying himself completely inside of her.

Shit! She was fucking tight, Eric thought. He had to work to not spill his cum in her right there and then.

Once inside of Wynston, Eric began to slowly fuck her. 

heavy breathing turned into moaning as he spread her thighs wider and circled his hips.

Wynston needed Eric to move faster, harder...he was killing her with his slow pace.

"Eric," she gasped.

"What, baby?" Eric said quietly, still pumping slowly into her.

"Eric, please!" Wynston almost yelled.

He leaned down and kissed her hungrily. 

"Tell Papi what you want, baby," he said against her lips.

"I want you, Eric. You—you gotta fuck me harder...please!" she begged.

Eric came undone. 

He placed Wynston's legs over his shoulders and began to beat into her savagely. 

The sound their bodies made as they pounded against each other was hypnotic.

Within moments, Eric felt the tell-tale spasm in his balls and knew that he would soon pour his seed into Wynston. 

He fingered her clit, increasing the motion of his hips even more.

Wynston's breasts bobbed in a frenzy and were almost Eric's undoing.

He could feel her pussy begin to contract just as his hot goo shot into her. Eric covered her mouth with his, muffling her cries of ecstasy. 

As her pussy continued to squeeze every ounce of liquid out of him, Eric couldn't remember ever feeling so satisfied.

***

Wynston lay on her back, staring up at the darkness. So much for her plan to talk with Eric first before anything happened between them.

She was usually so responsible and never did anything like this...that was for a reason. 

It was to avoid the predicament she was in now. 

They had just had the most mind-blowing sex, and Wynston had decided to trust him, but now she was worried. 

She had let Eric fuck her and didn't have a clue where this thing was going. 

She had no idea if he wanted a relationship or if he was even relationship material.

She looked down at Eric who was fast asleep between her legs. 

He had scooted down so only his head rested on her stomach...but he was still heavy as hell. 

And there was no way she could sleep in this position all night.

Sighing, Wynston wondered what the hell she'd done. She dreaded the next morning, because she had no idea what it would bring. 

Would Eric be cold and distant toward her? Would he treat her like she was just one of the many women he'd screwed before her?

Wynston didn't know what to expect. So she braced herself for the worst and allowed herself to emotionally withdraw from Eric before she drifted off into a fitful sleep.

***

Eric was so fucking irritated with Wynston, he could choke her.

That morning when he'd woken up, he had tried to make love to her again. But she had rebuffed all of his attempts, and wouldn't even let him kiss her.

When he'd asked what was wrong, she had just remained silent and then gone into the bathroom.

Eric had racked his brain, trying to figure out what had gone wrong. The last thing he remembered was the two of them fucking. 

He was sure he made her cum. He'd gotten off her in the middle of the night so as not to crush her.

He kept coming up blank.

When she came out of the bathroom, Eric had tried one more time to speak with her, but just then, there was a knock at the door. 

It was time for them to go back to the police station.

***

Wynston was miserable...and she was making a spectacle of herself.

As she gazed out of the small window of the plane, she sobbed and couldn't help thinking about the events of the last month.

If only she hadn't gone into that bank, she thought for the millionth time.

Or if only she hadn't left her license at home; she probably would have gotten out in enough time to avoid the robbery. 

So many things could've gone differently. But they hadn't. 

She'd been in the bank with Eric during the robbery; and now, his brothers wanted them dead.

***

Eric looked across the aisle at Wynston. She looked forlorn as she stared out of the window, quietly sobbing, tears rolling down her face.

He had wanted to give her space, especially after she had acted so cold toward him after they'd slept together; but he was quickly getting used to the fact that he couldn't stay away from her even if he'd wanted to.

As he got up and made his way to the seat across from her, Wynston looked up and hurriedly dried her face.

"How are you holding up?" he asked carefully. Wynston offered a wobbly smile. "I've been better," she said.

Eric nodded.

"I won't pretend that I have any clue what you're going through. I can't imagine how difficult this must be for you. I just want you to know that you and I are in this together, and I'll help you as best as I can," he said honestly.

"Thank you," she said quietly. "I think I just need time to myself, that's all." Eric studied her. 

He knew she was politely asking him to leave her alone. He would respect her wishes...for now.

But they had some serious talking to do, especially after the way she had blown him off at the hotel. 

Eric stood up and bent over Wynston, placing his hands on the armrests on either side of her. His face was only inches away from hers.

The look she gave him said, "Get the hell out of my three fucking feet!"

He smiled. 

She had spunk...that was a good sign.

"Remember. Anything you want or need, baby...you tell Papi," he said quietly. Eric stared at her suggestively until she got the full scope of what he was saying.

Wynston didn't disappoint. 

She blushed beautifully as she remembered that he had said those same words to her the night she had begged him to ride her harder.

Eric gave her a gentle kiss on the lips and walked back to his seat.

It had been over a month since the robbery and that fateful night when she and Eric had slept together. 

Detective Mowry had turned them over to the United States Marshal Service. 

They had discussed the possibility that she and Eric would have to take new identities in the Witness Security Program.

The federal government was counting on Eric and Wynston's testimony to finally put Eric's brothers away. 

The authorities had after all spent almost a decade trying to place the Torres brothers at the scene of several bank robberies.

But Wynston and Eric had flatly refused.

There was no way either of them was going to go away and leave behind family and friends.

Thank God the U.S. Attorney General had agreed. 

He didn't think she and Eric were eligible to join the program especially since it would also mean moving her 4-year-old son and expecting him to forget his identity.

Wynston's ex was another problem. How were they going to explain that she would suddenly take Terrence to another state and never allow him to see his father?

Eric had come up with another plan.

Apparently as a Fraud Analyst he had pull with some investigators who he worked closely with on a regular basis.

According to Eric's plan, he and Wynston would simply relocate for a few months until the trial. 

His plan was similar to the Witness Security Program, but without all the drama of changing identities and cutting off all contact with their loved ones forever.

Also, after the trial, Wynston and Eric would be able to return to Baltimore and back to their normal lives.

The only hitch was whether or not they'd honestly be able to return. Even with a conviction, Rob had people on the outside. 

One phone call from him, and this whole nightmare could start again.

The kinks still needed to be worked out with that part of the plan; however, everything else had been a go.

So, here she was on a plane destined for South Carolina. 

Eric had told her that when he was younger, he would go there to visit with his mother's relatives during the summer. So he knew the area well. 

Most importantly, his brothers had no idea about the place. 

Everyone had jumped at the idea, claiming it was an easy fix, and everybody would get what they wanted. 

Eric and Wynston would be safe, and the government would be able to rely on the testimony of two star witnesses.

But Wynston couldn't have been more crushed. One of the downsides of Eric's plan was that she still could not bring Terrence with her.

She sobbed again and fought to stifle the sound.

She had agreed to leave her son with her parents. That way, his life would carry on without any more unnecessary changes. 

He would go to the same day care and see his dad every other weekend.

But his mother will have disappeared from his life, she thought sarcastically.

Wynston knew there was really no other way. What kind of mother would she be if she endangered her baby's life by bringing him with her?

Still...how was she supposed to carry on when her child was so far away? 

She would not be able to contact him, see him, nothing. 

She would not be able to contact her parents, either.

Wynston thought of how miserable Terrence must be, thinking she had abandoned him.

She was in hell.

***

Octavia was on cloud nine. As she stood in the small boutique, agonizing over a mint-green, satin tie and a chocolate-colored one, it occurred to her that she was now a rich woman. She could buy them both! 

So she did.

While she was at it, she had the sales assistant throw in some Armani cuff links and an exquisite pair of diamond studs. Rob would love them, she thought. 

Since she knew he would only wear one of the studs in his left ear, she decided she would wear the other in her own ear.

Octavia smiled at the thought of sharing something so intimate with Rob.

As she waited for the assistants to box and wrap her purchases, she felt powerful and important. 

The boutique's employees all practically worshiped her and ran to do her bidding as she threw around her cash. 

They offered her champagne, and all she had to do was glance in the direction of a piece of clothing or jewelry and they would rush to get it for her.

Life was good.

Octavia never thought she would be living in Puerto Vallarta, spending her days shopping and taking in the sights of beautiful Mexico. 

As part of their plan, Octavia, Rob, Mike and Ethan had all fled to Mexico to lay low until it was time to relocate. 

While they were there, they all lived in an ocean-front villa that was just as luxurious as Rob's home in Baltimore.

The property housed six bedrooms and 7.5 baths. There was a private pool that overlooked the ocean; and parts of the house even boasted bay jungle views.

That first day, upon entering the foyer, the four of them came face-to-face with another huge, spiral staircase that wound upward to the second floor of the stunning villa.

Rob sure loved his staircases, Octavia had thought.

But she definitely had not voiced her opinion. It had been the day after the robbery and Rob had been quieter than usual. 

He had been seething ever since his fight with his brother Eric. Eric. 

Octavia didn't quite know how to feel about that. 

Of course her allegiance was to Rob, but the other three brothers had remained tight-lipped about the tension between them and Eric. 

So she had no idea how she should feel about the situation.

Personally, Octavia found it difficult to be furious with such an attractive man. 

She would never, ever tell anyone, but she thought Eric was simply divine...even more so than Rob.

But that was all she was willing to admit to herself. Rob did, after all have her heart. 

Still, she had been disappointed when Eric had beaten the shit out of Rob. 

What woman wanted to stand by and watch as her man got pummeled by another man?

Not her!

So she had tended to Rob's wounds and had not mentioned the fight at the bank. 

She knew, however, from the whispered conversations from the brothers that Eric would pay for the problems he had caused.

Because of him, their plans had been altered drastically. 

Rob's mask had been taken off his face, exposing him to the security cameras. Octavia had run out of the bank with the robbers instead of them "forcing" her out as a hostage.

They couldn't go back to Rob's home as planned, but had to go to plan B, which was to flee directly to Mexico.

Rob had major connections with the Mexican authorities, so they would house the Torres's and turn a blind eye to their illicit activities.

Octavia had once again marveled at how money could buy everything. 

No matter. 

She was on the other side of the coin this time. Now it would be her doing the buying.

And then there was Greer.

At the thought of her ex-boyfriend, Octavia shivered despite the warm, Mexican breeze softly blowing into the boutique. 

When Rob had found out that Greer had used his name in the bank in front of Eric and that woman, Rob had lost it.

Once in the old abandoned garage a few blocks away from the bank, the five of them got out of the minivan to make the switch, splitting into two groups.

Mike got into the driver's seat of the plain, Ford Taurus; Rob and Octavia got into the backseat. 

The money was nestled safely in the trunk of the car.

As Greer obliviously sat in the tan Toyota Camry, Rob spoke quietly to Ethan.

"Get rid of him," was all he'd said.

Octavia's mouth had dropped opened in disbelief as she listened to Rob give the order to kill Greer.

She had wanted him out of the picture, but not this way!

Once they were moving, Octavia gulped and turned to Rob, preparing to do the unthinkable. 

She was going to question his orders.

"Uh...Rob, do you really think it's necessary to get rid of Greer? I mean, can't we just give him his portion of the money and send him on his way?" she'd asked.

Rob had given her the coldest stare she'd ever seen. Octavia watched as the muscle in his cheek began to jump.

Oh, shit! She thought.

She'd fucked up.

"Stop the car," he'd said to Mike, ominously.

Mike had obviously been the smarter person between him and Octavia, and decided not to fuck with Rob. 

He obediently pulled into a convenience store parking lot.

She would get no help from that quarter.

"Get out," Rob had said abruptly.

Octavia had looked at him as if he was insane.

"What do you mean get out??" she'd asked incredulously.

"Octavia, do you really want to fuck with me right now?" he asked, his nostrils flaring.

Son of a bitch, he meant it!

Octavia had been frightened.

"B-but where will I go??" she had asked.

"Start walking to the meeting point. I'll have Ethan swing by for you when he finishes with Greer. Stay on the main road so he doesn't have to look for you."

Octavia sat there for a moment, completely bewildered. She couldn't believe Rob would treat her this way.

Slowly, she turned and opened the door. 

"Octavia?" Rob said.

She turned back around hopefully.

"Never question me again about anything. Understand?" he asked seriously.

"Yes," she said softly.

With that, Octavia got out and closed the door behind her, watching as the car drove off without her.

***

Octavia blinked away unshed tears. She was still hurt that Rob had left her like that.




Perfume Ch. 04



She always did her best to put it out of her mind, because she didn't want to admit that things were not going the way she had planned. 

Ever since they arrived in Mexico, Rob had barely spoken to her; and he certainly had not touched her.

She felt invisible and attributed the change in Rob to his anger over the altercation with Eric. 

Octavia just knew that once Rob wasn't so stressed about Eric anymore, he would take her back in his bed.

Until then, she used the days to shop or sightsee around the island because there was absolutely nothing left to do.

She and Mike hated each other, so she made sure to steer clear of him. Ethan was pleasant to be around, but lately he had been spending most of his time with Lena.

Octavia didn't know Lena well. All she knew was Rob had brought the 25-year-old in to play a significant role in the heist. 

She was the red head who had rendered one of the loan officers unconscious. 

Octavia hadn't even known that Ethan and Lena was an item until they'd gotten to Puerto Vallarta. 

At any rate, she didn't want to be the third wheel, so Octavia stayed to herself and did all the things she dreamed of doing when she had been poor.

Ironically, they weren't as fun as she'd thought. She felt...lost.

She sadly acknowledged how much she missed Greer. He hadn't been sophisticated, dangerous or sexy as Rob, but he had loved her; and had treated her better than the whore she was.

Octavia shook her head remember the day they had driven to Rob's home for the first time. 

Greer had said the first thing he'd planned to do when they became rich, was buy her a new house.

And how had she responded? She had smugly planned on dumping him after she got her share of the money.

Karma certainly was a bitch.

"Here you are, ma'am. It was a pleasure to serve you today," the boutique sales assistant said pleasantly in her heavy, Spanish accent.

Pulled out of her musings, Octavia smiled, thanked the woman and grabbed her bags.

Back at the villa, she walked into the large atrium and once again marveled at the splendor of the place. 

Even though they had been living there for a month, she still had not grown used to such luxury.

She put down all her bags except for the ones that contained Rob's gifts, and went in search for him.

She was excited to show him what she'd bought, but he wasn't anywhere downstairs; and neither Ethan nor Mike was any help.

So Octavia made her way upstairs to the master suite. Rob's bedroom door was closed and she thought she heard voices coming from the other side.

She turned the doorknob, swinging the door open and froze.

***

Rob leaned his head back on the overstuffed chair he was sitting in. He fondled Lena's breasts as she fed on his thick cock.

Rob knew she was fucking Ethan but he didn't care. Ethan was young and needed to know that any bitch that was willing to fuck the both of them wasn't worth his time.

As he raised his hips off the chair, Rob grabbed Lena's hair tightly and pumped himself deeper into her throat.

Shit, she was good at giving head.

Just then, Rob caught a movement near the door. Octavia stood there looking all hurt and crushed.

He was so fucking sick of her.

"Octavia, come join us," he drawled. 

Lena slid Rob's member out of her mouth with a pop. She continued to stroke his length as she turned to look at Octavia. 

"Yeah, Octavia, I would love it if you'd join us," Lena said, smiling genuinely.

Rob watched as Octavia dropped some bags on the floor, turned and fled from the room. 

Too bad, he thought. He had been looking forward to some girl-on-girl action.

As Lena got up, straddled him and lowered herself onto his dick, Rob thought briefly about Octavia.

She had to go. 

She had become clingy and had lost her appeal. 

He had enjoyed the game of screwing her because she was Greer's girlfriend. 

But now that Greer was dead, and Octavia had obviously developed feelings for Rob, he was disgusted with her.

As soon as the time was right, he would set his plan into motion. 

With that, he put all thoughts of Octavia out of his mind.



Perfume Ch. 05



Eric was worried about Wynston. They had been in South Carolina for two days, and he hadn't seen her any during that time. 

She seemed to have entered into a sort of depression, and wasn't interested in anything except sleeping.

He checked on her often, and tried to encourage her to get out of the house and explore Summerville with him. 

But Wynston would simply mumble something unintelligible and remained confined inside her self-imposed prison.

After seeing how she cried on the plane, Eric had decided that once they landed, he would try to pull some strings with the investigators. 

Within two days, the large, brown envelope was delivered to the Sheriff's Department.

As Eric waited for the package to be brought to the house, he prayed this would work. 

If it didn't, he honestly had nothing else; and had no idea how to pull Wynston out of her melancholy.

Eric admitted to himself that when he'd thought of the plan to bring them to South Carolina, he'd done it for very selfish reasons. 

Of course his primary concern had been keeping her safe. Eric knew that he would be able to protect her if they were together. 

But he also knew that if they were holed up in the same house for a length of time, he would have limitless access to her. 

He had definitely planned on seducing her. 

But Eric had not counted on how strong her feelings would be about leaving her son behind. 

It had been lax of him, he now knew.

But in his mind, once Wynston understood that her son would be safer with his grandparents, she would be able to cope.

He had been completely wrong; and Eric beat himself up over that. He felt like he should've tried harder to find a way to bring the boy with them. 

A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. 

Grinning, he walked to the door and looked into the smiling face of his best friend.

"They sure grow 'em ugly down here," Eric drawled.

"That's not what your mom said while she was running my bath last night," Bo said, good-naturedly.

Eric laughed. "I'll be sure to tell her you said that."

"You tell your mom that, and I will fuck you up," Bo returned as the two men embraced.

Eric had known Bo Warren for 23 years, and he was the closest thing Eric had to a real brother. 

Ironically, they had met that first summer when Eric had come down to South Carolina.

His mother had become fed up with the hostility and constant fighting with his brothers, so she sent Eric down to live with relatives for the entire summer.

When Bo and Eric had met, they were both 12-years-old. Eric had gone to the community pool with his cousins and some of the neighborhood kids.

On the way there, they had come upon a scrawny kid getting his ass whooped by a bunch of bigger kids. 

The scene was all too familiar to Eric. Back home, he usually played the part of scrawny kid while his brothers kicked his ass.

So he hadn't asked questions, but had stormed up to the bully kids and started swinging. 

Lucky for Eric, there was safety in numbers. His cousins and the rest of the neighborhood kids all followed suit. 

Soon the bullies had all run away with their tails between their legs.

Bo had been that scrawny kid; and after the fight, he walked up to Eric and thanked him. 

They had been inseparable ever since.

Every summer, Eric couldn't wait to come back to South Carolina. He and Bo kept in touch throughout the school year, sending each other letters and pictures. 

They both had been put on punishment when they ran up outrageous phone charges, when they'd called each other collect. 

That's when the two boys started saving up to buy calling cards.

Soon, seeing each other every summer wasn't enough. 

After begging his mother for help, and doing a lot of odd jobs around the neighborhood for money, Eric would save enough to buy a Greyhound ticket to Summerville during Winter Break and Spring Break.

Bo's parents would offer to share some of the responsibility and send Bo up to Baltimore, but Eric and his mother had not wanted his brothers to ruin things for him. 

His relationship with Bo had been the only thing untarnished by his brothers, and Eric had wanted to keep it that way.

As the years progressed, friends and the opposite sex came and went; but Eric and Bo's connection stood the test of time. 

They trusted each other implicitly and knew that each had the other's back no matter what; and even though they hadn't seen each other in a couple years, they still spoke almost every day.

So when Eric and Wynston had needed to drop off of the map for a while, he had automatically thought of Bo. 

Rob and the others knew nothing about South Carolina, and the fact that Bo was the county Sheriff was a plus.

***

"I'm glad to see you, man...even though it's not under the best circumstances," Bo said as they sat down at the kitchen table. 

His tone had turned serious.

Bo was fully aware of everything that had transpired up to this point; and he was furious. 

He had always hated the way Eric's brothers had treated him. 

He'd always wondered why Eric took so much shit off them. Bo suspected Eric still felt some sort of guilt over the fact that the brothers' mother had died the way she had. 

He also knew that Mr. Torres maintained a relationship with Eric and not so much with the other brothers; which probably accounted for a lot of the bullshit Eric had dealt with.

Bo thought that was fucked up...the whole situation was a huge mess, actually.

"Yeah, I'm afraid things are worse, though. Wynston--the woman I'm here with--she hasn't been out of her room since we got here," Eric said heavily.

Bo's brow furrowed. "You mean she's been up there for three days? Did you check on her? Is she sick?" he asked.

Eric rolled his eyes. The sheriff was now speaking.

"Come on, you know me better than that. Of course I've been checking on her. I've been listening for the smallest movement...anything. She's not sick...just depressed about leaving her son," Eric finished.

"Speaking of, here's the package that came for you. I assume the purpose of this is to bring her around. You think it will work?" Bo asked.

"I'm praying, man," Eric replied.

He took the envelope and felt its weight. It was a relatively thin package, and was very light. 

But hopefully the contents would have the power to bring Wynston out of her misery and back to him.

"You know, you're doing a whole lot for this woman. First you save her life, and then you hatch this plan where you're living with her...now this," he said, motioning to the envelope in Eric's hand.

"Is there something I should know?" Bo asked.

Eric sighed. Bo had no idea what turmoil Eric was in. Wynston was driving him insane and he didn't know how to put an end to it. 

If he hadn't been so taken with her, he wouldn't have cared less whether or not she spoke to him after they'd had sex.

But he was taken with her; and the fact that she had distanced herself from him made Eric feel worse than he wanted to admit.

He told Bo everything. 

From the bank robbery and how he'd felt compelled to protect her to the way Wynston made him feel. 

He even told Bo how she had turned cold on him after they'd slept together and had kept her distance.

Bo whistled.

"Shit, Torres. This woman's got you wide open," he said. "You feel like you're gonna wife her eventually?" he asked.

"I can't even get her out of the fucking bed let alone talking about committing to her," Eric said rubbing the back of his neck.

He was clearly agitated.

The fact that Eric hadn't outright denied wanting to commit to this woman was telling.

"Listen man, this is what I'll do. I'll bring Lacey over tomorrow night; we can throw some steaks on the grill and officially welcome you back. Lacey and Wynston will do that girl talk shit and before you know it, she'll be happy again and you two will be looking at engagement rings," Bo said.

He watched Eric carefully.

His head came up. "You think that will work?" Eric asked.

Bo almost laughed. Eric was definitely gone over this woman.

"Hell yeah. Lacey loves that sort of shit...sticking her nose into other people's business is her forte," he said dryly. 

"You just do your part and get her out of the bed. If you're unsuccessful, I'm sure Lacey will be able to do it," Bo said reassuringly.

Eric was beginning to feel optimistic.

"How is Lacey, anyway?" Eric suddenly thought to ask.

At his wife's name, Bo leaned back in the chair and ran his hand over his face.

"She's killing me," he stated. 

Eric chuckled as he got up to go to the fridge. "You can be such a pussy sometimes," he said.

Bo smirked as he caught the beer Eric tossed to him. Men who'd never had children amused him.

"Alright," he said. "When you get a woman pregnant and you have to do all this crazy shit and deal with the hormones and mood swings, I'm going to sit back and watch...and laugh my ass off," he said, popping the can open.

"Do you guys know what the sex is yet?" Eric asked.

"Nah. She's not far along enough to know that yet. We'll know in the next two months, though. She wants a girl and you know I want a little football player," Bo replied.

Eric laughed again.

"Do you really think it'll be that easy for you?" he asked. 

"What do you mean?" Bo asked, puzzled.

"You're the second biggest womanizer I know. You're not getting sons...Karma won't allow it. I wouldn't be surprised if you have all girls," Eric said grinning.

Bo frowned. The thought of it was too much.

"I have to get outta here," he said, downing the rest of his beer. "I can't be late for Lacey's doctor's appointment. I'll call you sometime tomorrow so we can set a time for the barbecue. Good luck with Wynston, man," Bo said as he walked to the door.

"Oh, one more thing, Torres," he said, pausing at the door.

"If I were you, I wouldn't expect any little boys, either. By your own admission, I'm only the second biggest womanizer you know," he said.

Bo dodged the empty beer can as it went sailing toward his head.

***

Wynston awoke to the smell of something burning. 

No, it wasn't burning, she thought. It smelled like charcoal.

She pulled the covers from her face and squinted at the blinding light streaming in through the open window.

Eric.

He was the only one who could've opened it. 

Wynston suddenly felt a pang of guilt.

She had behaved badly. Of course she was depressed because she was away from her son, but this whole situation had to have been difficult for Eric, too. 

Wynston remembered what he had said on the plane..."We're in this together." 

No, she thought. They weren't. 

Eric was in this alone, because for the past few days, she had been self-absorbed and had only thought of her own feelings.

She was ashamed of herself. 

Wynston had been immobile for so long that her limbs felt like lead. How many days had she been in bed??

As she stretched, her hand hit something. She looked over to find that there was a big, brown envelope on her pillow.

Curiously, she sat up and opened it.

When Wynston pulled out its contents, she put her hands to her mouth, tears welling in her eyes.

There were pages and pages of drawings and pictures that Terrence had done. 

The first picture was a large cutout of yellow, triangular paper with red circles glued on top. 

It was a slice of pizza that Terrence had made. His name was scribbled at the top in his four-year-old chicken scratch.

Wynston laughed with delight.

There was another sheet of white construction paper. Glued to it were purple cutouts of Terrence's little hands. Green stems had been glued underneath the hands making them look like tulips.

The caption at the top read, "My mommy is as pretty as a flower."

There were many more such pieces of art; but. Wynston's undoing was the last sheet of paper. 

It had her mother's handwriting on it, the message short and incredibly sweet:

This message is as dictated by T.J...

"Please tell Mommy, I love her very much and I miss her. Are you still my friend? Tell her we pray for her every night, and we gotta make her some chocolate chip cookies for when she gets back. Ask her to bring some milk, though. Nana, yours tastes funny."

P.S. (This is your mother speaking, now). We love you and miss you very much, honey. And the "funny-tasting" milk is soy. --Love Mom

At the end, Terrence had signed his name in big, wobbly letters.

Wynston cried.

She held the papers close to her and wept the kind of tears that came from deep within her soul.

And when she was spent, she gingerly placed the drawings back in the envelope. Once again she felt horrible about her behavior toward Eric. 

There was no doubt that he was responsible for this precious gift. 

As Wynston sat thinking about him, she had no idea how to feel. 

Common sense dictated that there was no way she could feel so strongly about him in such a short time.

But there was no denying that she did.

And the sex...it had been epic!

Wynston's stomach tightened when she thought about the night in the hotel room...no man had ever made her toes curl like that!

She wanted so badly to throw caution to the wind and jump into this thing -- whatever it was -- and just enjoy Eric.

But she knew herself and understood that she wouldn't just be in it for the "fun." It was all or nothing for her, especially since she came with a 4-year-old.

Wynston was afraid of getting hurt, too. 

Beautiful men like Eric would always have a massive following of women. She didn't know if she wanted to contend with that.

She closed her eyes and groaned, ashamed of her actions of late. She could be such a jackass sometimes.

Eric had been SO good to her. 

Before they'd even known each other's names, he had protected her, fought for her. 

He had worried about her so much that he'd somehow pulled strings and had gotten the letter and T.J.'s drawings to her.

The light bulb finally went off and Wynston realized that these weren't the actions of a man who wanted nothing more than a frivolous tryst. 

With clarity, she understood that Eric wouldn't hurt her.

She silently promised him that she would make it all up to him.

But Wynston was still cautious by nature...she couldn't deny that part of herself. So she planned to talk to Eric, just in case. 

She would be honest about her feelings and would make him understand that if they did this, it would be with the expectation of something more. 

Wynston smiled.

The trick would be getting Eric to talk to her before he pounced on her. She would have to stand firm and insist that they have their talk before he clubbed her over the head and dragged her to his bed.

Grabbing a pillow, Wynston brought it to her face and screamed into it. She still couldn't believe that such a scrumptious man desired her...and fiercely. 

Well, I'm going to enjoy him, Wynston thought. And with that, she got out of bed.

***

Her thoughts turned to the room she was sleeping in. In the daylight, she had a chance to survey it. 

The room was large, with hardwood floors, a comfortable, queen size sleigh bed and a mahogany armoire. The two nightstands on each side of the bed matched the armoire. 

When Wynston had come into the room a few days ago, she hadn't even noticed the taupe lounge chair in the corner next to the huge window. The chair would be perfect to curl up on and read a good book.

With a little work, the room could be even more inviting, she thought. Wynston made a mental note to begin shopping for it.

She lugged her suitcase onto the bed and began the process of unpacking. 

When she was done with that, Wynston made her bed and went back to the closet to choose a nice outfit.

She felt like being pretty after going so long down in the dumps.

When they had first gotten to South Carolina, the heat had been unbelievable. Wynston had remembered wondering how people even went outdoors in that kind of temperature. 

In keeping with the weather, she chose a long, rose-colored sundress and gold sandals. She pulled out her gold bangles and her biggest, gold hoop earrings.

After taking a cool shower, Wynston focused on her fragrance. She knew Eric would go ape shit over her D & G perfume if she wore it again; and they definitely wouldn't be doing any talking. 

So this time, she opted to layer with her favorite lotion first, and then spritzed herself lightly with its matching body mist.

Next, she decided to stick with her usual make-up regimen which was very low maintenance. 

Fortunately for her, Wynston had always had blemish-free, radiant skin. So she only made up her eyes and finished her fresh look with clear lip gloss.

Once she was completely dressed, she looked in the oval mirror in the other corner of the room and approved of what she saw.

Mission accomplished.

She knew that by society's standards she was considered to be plus-sized or full-figured. 

But she had never felt as ugly or fat as the general public said she should...she just felt like Wynston.

She was a girly-girl and loved clothes and cared about her appearance; she also loved to smell feminine which was why she had spent so much money on fragrances and perfumes. 

As she studied herself, Wynston cocked her head to the side and tried to see herself through the eyes of a stranger. 

It didn't work. 

Instead, what she saw was herself...and she was beautiful.

***

Eric and Bo stood in the backyard preparing the grill. They had already brought out and cleaned the picnic table, benches and chairs. 

Now they stood arguing over which one of them was going to be grill master.

From Bo's point of view, he had all the skills because he was southern born and bred. Eric, on the other hand had lived in a concrete jungle all his life.

"The closest you've come to a grill is Burger King, dude. So just let me do my thing. Hey, tell you what, you can put the barbecue sauce on the chicken. How 'bout that?" Bo said laughing.

As Lacey spread the tablecloth on the picnic table, she laughed as the two men wrestled. 

"That's alright, Eric. You be the best damn barbecue saucer you can be," she joked. 

"Oh, you got jokes, too?" Eric asked.

Lacey yelped as he ran at her and grabbed her in a big bear hug. 

"Baby on board!" she squealed, which made Eric put her back down gently, but not before stealing a quick kiss on her cheek.

She sure had missed him. It was like old times again and honestly, Lacey was glad circumstances had brought them all back together. She couldn't wait until the rest of the crew came tonight.

Lacey stood watching Eric. She knew him like the back of her hand, which was why she wasn't fooled. 

He was not 100% with them.

When he thought no one was looking, he would steal glances up at the open window of the room where she guessed Wynston was.

Lacey was very eager to meet this magnificent woman who had succeeded in capturing their Eric. 

She wondered if he even knew he was as smitten as he obviously was.

Lacey decided to play it cool. She would definitely get to the bottom of this.

***

Wynston walked down the stairs. By the time she'd finished getting dressed and looked around upstairs, it was early evening.

She hadn't heard or seen Eric anywhere, so she took the opportunity to peruse the rest of the house before she went off to find him.

Who the hell was she kidding? She needed a moment to collect all her faculties. 

Wynston would require all her wits when she talked to Eric...especially when he turned on that magnetism that made her weak. 

Walking around the living room, Wynston took in her surroundings. The house was very charming. 

Eric had said this house belonged to his mother's brother. The uncle had long since passed away, willing it to Eric.




Perfume Ch. 05



He'd said the house was the perfect place for them to lay low until the trial.

It was an older home, and when they had driven up to it a few days ago, Wynston had immediately noticed its huge porch. She hadn't really seen anything like it in Baltimore.

The living room was cozy and had been decorated using earth colors like browns, olive greens and creams. There was a large fireplace and surprisingly modern furniture.

But Wynston's most favorite area was the kitchen. 

It was big, and she could do some serious damage in there.

Again, she was surprised at how up to date the appliances were. There was a good-sized island in the middle of the floor and the stove, double wall oven, and refrigerator were all stainless steel.

Right off the kitchen was a comfy breakfast nook that sat in front of a large, bay window. 

As Wynston took everything in, her mind blazed with ideas. 

Like her bedroom, the house was very pleasant; but there were some things she could do to make the rooms even more attractive.

She suddenly heard sounds coming from the backyard. 

Okay, girl. Enough hedging, she thought. 

Taking a deep breath, she glanced once more at her reflection in a mirror hanging on the living room wall. 

Satisfied with what she saw, Wynston went in search of Eric.

***

Eric stood near the grill with a bottle of beer in his hand, quietly talking to Bo. A few more childhood friends had shown up to welcome Eric back.

Everyone assumed he had just decided to vacation in Summerville for a while. Only Bo and Lacey knew the real reason he was there.

It was like they all heard the door close at the same time. Everyone stopped talking and turned to see who was joining them.

Eric had been about to take another swig of his beer but the bottle was now suspended in mid-air. 

His heart leapt...and so did his dick.

Wynston was wearing a long, pink dress that tastefully showed off her curves. Her lips were sparkling again with that gloss she always wore. 

Eric gazed at her hungrily. This was the Wynston he had come to know...she looked incredible.

She walked with a quiet confidence, hips gently swaying. When she saw all the unfamiliar faces (all staring at her) she did look a bit uncertain. 

Until her eyes met his. 

Eric put his beer...somewhere...and ambushed her.

***

Wynston had no idea who all these people were. 

She didn't recognize a single face and fought to present a picture of calm. 

She looked around for Eric and found him talking to a tall, good-looking guy who was manning the grill. 

Eric wore a simple, red polo shirt, and long, denim shorts. He was even wearing men's flip flops...a testament to the southern heat. But he was every bit masculine.

He looked SO damn good, Wynston thought.

Even the way he stood with a hand in his pocket and a beer bottle in the other hand aroused her. 

When their gazes had connected it was like...kismet. That's the only word Wynston could think of to describe it.

The other people no longer existed. 

She smiled as Eric shoved his beer bottle into his companion's chest and walked purposefully toward her.

Damn it...here it comes, she thought. 

If she could have, she would've hiked up her dress to her knees and made a mad dash back into the house.

She knew that look of his all too well.

For the second time in the space of a few minutes, Wynston braced herself.

But she couldn't have prepared for this.

Eric walked up to her, wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her deeply, slowly.

She didn't even try to pull away, but was taken, reveling in the feel of Eric's lips against hers.

She melted, becoming soft and pliant. Sliding her arms around his neck, Wynston caressed the back of his head. 

Eric groaned at her acquiescence. 

She didn't know how long they stood out there like that, but they both suddenly became cognizant of cheering and cat calls.

Eric reluctantly broke the kiss.

"Oh my god," she whispered, mortified.

Wynston had completely forgotten about the people who were there.

Eric rested his forehead on hers and smiled. "I've missed you, baby," he said quietly.

She almost swooned from the endearment.

"I know. And I'm so sorry. I shouldn't have checked out on you like that," she said.

Eric kissed her nose. "Don't apologize for hurting. This is hard as hell, I know that. I just want you to let me be there for you."

"Done," Wynston said. "Eric, I can't thank you enough for what you did for me. Those drawings from Terrence; and the letter...they meant the world to me," she said becoming choked up.

She leaned up on her toes and kissed Eric again, softly. 

He smiled lazily. "Well, shit, I can tell you how you can thank me," he joked. 

Wynston laughed loudly, remembering that he'd said the same thing after he'd saved her during the bank robbery.

"Listen, there are some things I need to say to you before we...are intimate with each other again," Wynston said.

"Ohhh...so, we're going to be intimate again?" Eric asked smugly. "You're not using me for my body, are you?" he asked with feigned hurt.

"Oh, please!" she laughed. "Seriously, though. This is important."

"Anything you want...we'll talk later when everybody leaves. Then I plan on making love to you for the rest of the night. You were warned," Eric said.

Taking her hand, Eric led her to the group. "Right now I want you to meet a few people." 

Forget other people, she thought. 

Wynston was still stuck on what he'd said about making love all night!

***

The evening blazed by in a whirl as Eric introduced Wynston to countless people...she didn't remember many of their names.

She couldn't forget Bo and Lacey, though. The couple was hilarious and obviously was closest to Eric. Wynston had immediately liked them.

Bo was bi-racial and very handsome, matching Eric in height and build. Wynston could tell that he loved his wife very much by the way he laughed and joked with her the entire evening.

Lacey was a petite woman. Her black hair came just below her chin; the bangs she wore made her look like a cute, china doll. Her coffee skin glowed from the presence of her unborn baby.

They regaled Wynston with funny stories about their escapades as kids and how they spent the summers and school breaks getting out of self-inflicted scrapes.

And as Bo had predicted, Lacey and Wynston eventually branched off into their own world of girl talk, leaving the men behind.

Eric was damn pleased that Wynston had taken a liking to his closest friends.

He tried to listen to whatever the hell Bo was talking about, but couldn't focus on anything but her.

She sat at the table, head cocked to the side listening attentively to Lacey. 

The way she played with her earring was reminiscent of the way a woman would play with her hair.

It was extremely sexy.

She threw her head back and laughed at something Lacey said. Just then, she looked up, her twinkling eyes meeting his.

Wynston made a big show of blowing him a kiss, but Bo intercepted it, placing the "kiss" against his heart, making everyone laugh.

"You know...you need to take that woman into your bedroom, and stay in there until your dick is sore. You're not gonna be able to function until you get enough of her," Bo said.

Eric looked at him. "What do you think I plan on doing?" he asked.

"Good," Bo replied. "Maybe then you'll be able to hold a conversation."

Eric simply grinned.

***

When everyone sat down to eat, Eric of course pulled Wynston down to sit beside him. 

"You have to be starved," he said, piling food onto her plate.

Wynston rolled her eyes and took the heaping spoonful of potato salad Eric was about to dump onto her plate.

He reminded her of a mother hen.

"I've got this," she said and began to fix him a plate of food.

While she did that, Eric nibbled on her neck. "You smell good...like candy," he said seductively.

So much for changing up perfumes, Wynston thought.

She gasped when he slowly ran his hand between her thighs. 

"Knock it off," she squealed, drawing curious glances from the others. 

Thank goodness nobody could see under the tablecloth, she thought.

Wynston playfully pushed him away and did a double-take. "Your eyes. They're...green??" she asked surprised.

"Probably," Eric said. He grabbed her hand and pulled it under the table to the bulge at his crotch. "This is why."

"Ohhhh...you mean your eyes change color when you—"

"Yes," Eric said, cutting Wynston off. "You trying to put everybody in my shit??" he asked exasperated.

Wynston laughed, placing her hand on his cheek. "I wouldn't blow up your spot like that," she said, pecking him on the nose.

The two were so immersed in each other, that they didn't notice the entire table watching them. 

Wynston and Eric also didn't see when Lacey and Bo exchanged looks at each other. 

The husband and wife grinned because they had never seen their long-time friend carry on this way...especially where a woman was concerned.

It was obvious to every person sitting at the table that Eric Torres had fallen hard for this woman hook, line and sinker.

***

Eric and Wynston finally saw the last of their guests out. Lacey and Bo had been the last to leave since they had stayed behind to help clean. 

Wynston waved as they drove off. Closing the door, she leaned back against it.

The house was blessedly quiet; but the energy was charged with sexual tension. Eric motioned for Wynston to join him on the couch.

She coyly shook her head. 

Eric looked so damn good she wanted to tear her clothes off and mount him right then.

Down girl, she thought. There was no way she would get any talking done if she went over there.

"I care about you very much, Eric," she began. 

"And I've wrestled with this entire situation because it's way too early to be talking about relationships and commitments." 

"But this isn't just a thrill for me. If we take things any further, I have to know that it means more for you, too," she finished solemnly.

Eric sat there for a moment eyeing her. 

The longer he stayed quiet, the more nervous Wynston got...but she refused to fidget.

"You really are dense, aren't you?" Eric asked. 

"Do you really think I go around doing this shit for every woman I meet?" he asked incredulously.

"I'll give you the benefit of the doubt because we still are new to each other. But Wynston, don't ever question how I feel about you," he admonished.

She didn't think she could've felt any more relieved...or happier.

Wynston walked toward the couch and stood in front of him. His beautiful eyes now had those tell-tale specks of green in them. 

He was aroused...or still angry. Wynston didn't know which.

Eric leaned forward, his strong hands kneading her hips and thighs. When he buried his face in her soft, fleshy belly, she immediately caressed his head.

The air immediately became electric. 

Eric pulled down Wynston's dress and unhooked her bra, releasing her breasts. He lifted the heavy orbs, awestruck by their weight. 

As he teased the nipples with his tongue, Wynston dragged his hand down to her already-quivering pussy.

Eric wasn't surprised to find that she was drenched. 

He continued to flick his tongue over her areolas, his fingers wreaking havoc on her clitoris.

He paused only long enough to stand up while he finished undressing her. Eric then ordered Wynston to kneel on the couch and spread her legs wide.

She obeyed.

Before she knew it, Eric was undressed and was sliding down to the floor, reclining so that his head rested on the cushion between her legs.

At the first touch of his tongue between her slick folds, Wynston moaned.

"Ohhhhh my Lorrrrrd," she gasped. "Didn't...know you were...gonna do thaaaat!" Wynston squealed.

She buried her head in the back of the couch and worked herself back and forth over Eric's tongue.

Wynston mewled, wailed, whimpered and moaned. She did it all as Eric brought her to a screaming climax.

Once her shuddering had gradually subsided, she was compelled to give Eric the same pleasure he had brought her.

Dismounting from his face, it was Wynston's turn to slide to the floor as Eric lifted himself onto the couch.

Kneeling between his legs, she leisurely ran her hands from his feet, along his legs and up his thighs.

She kissed his stomach and smiled when it jerked in response to her gentle touch. Wynston turned her face upward to receive the deep kiss Eric offered, their tongues mating sensually.

She moved to suck Eric's full bottom lip, and placed a tender kiss on his chin. 

Wynston kissed her way back down Eric's body until she came to his engorged dick.

Even though it had been dark in the hotel room, her assessment of his member had been correct. It was a beauty.

Not only was Eric's cock long, but it was thick. 

The way it pointed almost completely upward to his belly made Wynston moan.

It was an angry red and veiny, the head thick and luscious. She couldn't resist.

Wynston ran her tongue up the length of Eric's shaft, loving the sound of his groaning.

Wetting her lips, she gripped his cock as she sucked it, steadily taking more of him in her mouth. 

Eric leaned his head against the back of the couch and dragged his hand through her hair. 

She took him fully into her mouth, and began bobbing her head. Wynston removed her hands from his dick so that she could run them all over his body.

"Ohhhh, sweetheart, you're killing me," Eric groaned. 

Bringing her hand back to his delicious cock, Wynston caressed his organ while she took each of his balls into her mouth.

Eric almost came right then.

He wanted to be inside her when he came, so he gently lifted Wynston away from his manhood, amid protests.

She wasn't ready to stop yet.

"I know, baby. But I gotta get inside your pussy," Eric said thickly.

Once again, Wynston stood, this time straddling his thighs. She lowered herself onto Eric's erection as he once again tongued her nipples.

"Mmmmm," Wynston whimpered. The feel of him invading her tightness was marvelous. 

Eric inched in and out of her, giving her body time to adjust to his size. When he had fully entered her, Wynston braced her hands on either side of him and began to pump her hips up and down.

"Awww, shit," Eric ground out as she rode him faster. He grabbed her ass tightly, strongly thrusting his cock in and out of Wynston.

He suddenly pulled out of her and flipped Wynston onto her knees.

Slapping her thick, round behind, he rubbed the head of his cock along her pussy. 

When he still didn't enter her, Wynston turned to see Eric looking at her slyly.

He was teasing her!

"Eric!" she wailed.

"Beg for it, love," he said as he continued to tantalize her with his cockhead.

He delivered yet another solid wallop to her ass.

Wynston panted and ground her hips, trying to push him into her. 

She was not going to beg!

"Uhnn...PLEASE! Eric, please!" she cried.

"Please what, mi amor?" he asked, slapping her on the rump again.

She was going to kill him.

"Eric," Wynston gasped. "Please, gimme your dick...I need it in me. PLEASE!"

Eric smiled. "That's better, baby girl."

To antagonize her more, he ever so slowly pushed into her quaking pussy.

"Ahhhh...Eric. Don't do this to me...please fuck me, baby. I need you!" she cried.

Eric's chest puffed up. "That's right," he said arrogantly.

He grabbed her hips and began to pound into Wynston forcefully.

She buried her head into a pillow, taking every one of his powerful thrusts.

The sounds of Wynston's passionate moans filled the room. Soon, her body began to vibrate, wildly, squeezing Eric tightly.

"Come for me, baby," Eric said soothingly. 

And Wynston did. Her body shuddered violently with her orgasm; and Eric was with her, riding the clouds of rapture as he spurted thick drops of his semen into her. 

When she collapsed onto the couch, Eric followed, loving the softness of her ass. He tenderly kissed her back and neck, easing himself out of Wynston's tightness.

To both of their surprise, the small movement sent Wynston into another staggering orgasm.

When she once again floated down from her small death, Wynston giggled.

She turned over so that Eric was lying on top of her. 

"I've never seen that one, before," Eric said smiling. "I hope you know this means you owe me a freebie."

Wynston laughed harder and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Consider it done," she said kissing him.

Eric took her upstairs and made good on his word. 

He made love to Wynston the entire night. Some of their love-making was passionate and frenzied; some was lazy and unhurried.

When the two were completely spent, Eric wrapped his arms around his lover and pulled her close.

"Now, is this the Wynston I'm going to wake up to?" he asked drowsily. She laughed at the censure still in his voice. 

"Sweetie, when you wake up, I'm going to make you a very happy man," she said. But Eric was already asleep. 

She smiled, thinking of the big breakfast she would make for him. 

Damn, girl! He's got you cooking for him already, she thought. With that, Wynston allowed sleep to claim her. 

***

Octavia walked along beautiful Mismaloya Beach. 

After finding Rob with Lena, she had fled the villa and had not returned. It was now nightfall, but she couldn't bring herself to go back there.

She thought of how funny life was. Octavia realized that she had been happier when she'd had no money. 

Now, when she had millions, her quality of life couldn't have been poorer. 

Never before did she miss Greer more than she did at that moment; it made her painfully aware of just how alone she was in this world. 

In her misery, she allowed her dark past to spill forth, bringing with it all the pain and despair she had been carrying all these years.

Octavia's parents had died when she was 8-years-old, and she'd gone to live with her mother's sister and her husband. 

Aunt Libby was a quiet, soft-spoken woman. She had always been kind to Octavia and had taken her in and loved her as a mother would. 

The only thing Octavia hated about her aunt's house was her Uncle John.

He was a mean bastard. When he wasn't fucking everything that moved, he was beating Aunt Libby to a pulp. 

Octavia had always believed that John had beaten the life out of her aunt. Sure, she was alive; but she only existed, mechanically, doing what John told her. 

She spent her days working hard and living in constant fear of the next time John would pound on her as if he was fighting a man.

The first time it had happened, Octavia tried to defend her aunt. Her reward? John had knocked her unconscious. 

After that, she made sure to steer clear of him at all costs. Octavia always found a reason to stay out late and went straight to her room once she did get home. 

By the time Octavia became a senior in high school, her looks had changed dramatically. 

She had always been thin, tall and gangly; and her limbs seemed to be completely out of her control. 

In all honesty, the only thing she had going for her was her almond skin tone and long, brown hair.

All that changed when she'd turned 18.

Her features became proportionate to her face, making her a very pretty girl. She began to wear a little make-up the way all the girls her age did. 

But it was her body that she was most pleased with. 

Her breasts remained small so she never bothered to wear a bra; however, her nipples seemed to always be hard. "Indecent" is what the older women in the neighborhood called them. 

She developed a waistline and her hips began to curve very gently. 

She was no longer clumsy and uncomfortable with her height, but was now confident and sure of herself.




Perfume Ch. 05



Octavia had even gotten a job working with kids at the local YMCA. 

Not only would that look good on her college application, but she could also now afford to buy clothes and make-up for herself. 

She was becoming a young lady...unfortunately for her, John noticed.

One particular evening when she'd gotten home, Octavia noticed her uncle's car was in the yard. 

Fuck! 

She hoped he had gone to bed or something so she could make a beeline to her bedroom. She silently prayed that he was anywhere but in that living room.

Octavia pushed the door open and was greeted with darkness. No one was there! She walked quickly to the back of the house and sighed with relief as she closed her bedroom door. 

She turned toward her bed and almost screamed when she realized someone was sitting there.

Clumsily, she flipped on the light switch to find that it was Malcolm...the janitor at the YMCA. He also sometimes hung out with John. 

Octavia immediately panicked. 

Malcolm always made her feel uncomfortable whenever he was around. He would openly stare at her, his lust-filled gaze letting her know exactly what he was thinking. 

And he was huge. He probably was the biggest man Octavia had ever seen. At 30-years-old, he was a staggering 6'7" and was heavily muscled. 

Malcolm wasn't unattractive, but he had a menacing countenance about him. 

Octavia had heard stories around the neighborhood that Malcolm didn't have a conscience and had even killed before.

And now he was sitting on her bed, his big, muscular physique in direct contrast with her pretty white and pink comforter. 

"Wha-what are you doing here, Malcolm?" she asked shakily.

He chuckled, his eyes igniting with desire. "I guess John didn't talk to you. Shoulda known that son-of-a-bitch was lying. Doesn't matter though. I still plan to get my money's worth."

Octavia's eyes widened and she began to feel sick. 

Her 18-year-old mind wasn't that worldly yet, but it didn't take a genius to figure out what this man was doing in her room.

She thought quickly. 

"Uh, this must be some sort of mistake. I'll just go and get my uncle for you..." 

She never finished.

Before Octavia's hand even touched the doorknob, Malcolm had grabbed her backpack and yanked her to him, pressing her against his groin. 

She blindly began to struggle, but was no match for the massive man.

"Please!!!" She begged. 

Malcolm covered Octavia's mouth with his big hand while the other slowly crept up her body and massaged her erect nipple. 

He shuddered.

Pressing his lips against Octavia's ear, he spoke quietly. "Look, little girl. I paid your uncle a lot of money for you. I suggest you play along so I don't have to hurt you. I don't wanna have to hurt your auntie, either...if you get my drift," he said menacingly.

"Do you understand me?" he asked.

Octavia closed her eyes and nodded her head.

"Good girl. Word is you're no virgin anyway.So why don't you just relax and take what I'm about to give you? It'll feel good, okay? Now I'm gonna take my hand from your mouth. I don't want any funny business," he warned.

Again, she nodded.

Malcolm slowly removed his hand from her mouth only to slide it down her body. He groaned as his large hands squeezed her breasts.

Octavia choked back a sob and prayed that her aunt would come in and find her. She prayed that the ground would open up and swallow her...anything for this to not be happening.

As Malcolm slowly turned her around, removing her backpack, Octavia wanted to scream at the world how unfair and wrong this was. 

But once again in her miserable life, nobody was there to save her.

She closed her eyes and resigned herself to what was happening. Malcolm had removed her shirt and was now licking her nipples. 

She felt her pussy clench. The more he licked, the more her body reacted. 

"Take off the rest of your clothes," he said, thickly.

Octavia hesitated. She had only been naked with one boy in her entire life and was embarrassed to let this stranger look upon her bare form. 

She moved too slowly for Malcolm. 

"Do I need to find your aunt, 'Tavia?" he threatened, using her nickname. The intimate use of her moniker sickened her. He had no right. 

In a rush, she removed her clothing and stood before him nude.

Malcolm stared at her young, nubile form and slowly exhaled. "I'm gonna work that ass."

When he removed his clothes, Octavia gasped at the size of his dick as it bobbed and swayed with his movement. It was a monster! 

There was no way she could take all that! The boy she had fucked a month ago was a baby compared to this man. 

Malcolm commanded her to get on the bed. She slowly obeyed. 

As she lay on her back, Octavia stared at the chipped paint on the ceiling. She still couldn't believe this was happening. 

Her thoughts were interrupted when he began to assault her nipples again. This time, he slid a large finger into her pussy. 

When he took her entire breast into his mouth, to Octavia's amazement--and chagrin--she became wet. 

Looking down at Malcolm, her hands balled into fists at her sides. He was looking up at her smugly, knowing he had aroused her.

She was even more shocked when she felt Malcolm move away from her breasts and began to kiss a path down her body to her nether lips. 

Then he did the most unbelievable thing...he pushed his tongue deep inside her.

Octavia moaned. 

Malcolm chuckled at her obvious pleasure and began to work his tongue deep within her folds. 

He didn't know how much more he could take. 

He wanted to push his dick inside her and fuck her for all he was worth. But at the same time, he wanted to savor every moment.

As Malcolm licked her, Octavia was now writhing and moaning loudly. He tried his hardest not to come on her bed. 

When he felt her begin to shudder wildly, he was satisfied. She had come.

Octavia covered her face with her hands, tears glistening in her eyes...she was so ashamed of herself. 

She had let some old man eat her out, and she had enjoyed it...so much so that she had come on his face! 

But that was the least of her problems. She felt the bed shift under Malcolm's weight. He was moving up her body on the bed, his dick resting at her entrance. 

Once again he flicked his tongue over her nipples and rubbed his cock over her clit. Octavia stopped resisting and began to circle her hips slowly. 

"Good girl," Malcolm said again.

As he slowly pushed his dick into her, Octavia placed her hands on his forearms, bracing for his entry. To her amazement, there was no pain; just a pleasurable fullness. 

She looked up at Malcolm only to find that he was watching her. The two stared at each other for a moment before he dipped his head and kissed her. 

After he broke the kiss, Octavia looked up at him, confused. 

Before she could ponder the kiss anymore, Malcolm slowly began to ride her. When she squeezed his arms and wrapped her legs around his waist, Malcolm knew that he now had her.

Contracting the muscles in his hips, he pulled his cock out of her opening to the tip, and pushed himself into her deeper and deeper with each stroke. 

Malcolm couldn't believe how tightly her pussy squeezed him; and this young girl was enjoying everything he was doing to her. 

He even loved the way she was squeezing his arms...it made him feel like a man.

He needed to get deeper inside her.

He sat up and grabbed her thighs, placing her legs on his shoulders. When he began hammering into her pussy, Octavia's moans of pleasure turned into cries of pain. 

"Not so hard!" she gasped. 

She placed one small hand on his abdomen in an effort to push him away. 

That wasn't happening.

When that didn't work, Octavia tried to get her legs off Malcolm's shoulders, but to no avail.

"Don't be that way, baby," he moaned. "Your pussy is too good for me to stop. Just relax and take all of it."

"Please! It hurts!" Octavia begged. But her cries fell on deaf ears.

A million thoughts went through Octavia's brain. 

Gone were the feelings of pleasure; her insides were now aching. 

This new position put her knees too far back, giving Malcolm's huge cock way too much access to her small opening. 

Octavia was once again embarrassed. 

For a brief moment, she had thought he'd cared. It was now obvious that she was just a piece of ass to him. She closed her eyes and whimpered, hoping this would be over soon. 

To her misery, Malcolm began to beat into her even more relentlessly. She was sure she would bleed from this...that is, if she didn't die first. 

Finally, when she thought she couldn't take anymore, Malcolm stopped moving and within seconds, Octavia felt his hot, liquid eruption. 

It was over.

After a few moments of quivering, Malcolm finally pulled out of Octavia and rolled off of her onto the bed. 

She couldn't hold back any longer. Octavia rolled onto her side, her back to him. Her shoulders shook as she cried.

Malcolm had tried to talk to her, saying that she should lighten up...it was just fun. She had remained curled tightly in a ball, stoically staring at nothing.

When it was obvious she wasn't going to say anything to him, Malcolm had finally gotten dressed and left.

Afterward, Octavia ran to the door and locked it. 

Tearing through her room, she tossed as many things into an overnight bag as she could. 

She reached for her jar, hidden deep inside her closet and pulled out the wad of money. She had exactly $1,000. 

She was to get paid the next day, so she would stick around long enough to collect her paycheck and then she would leave Fulton County, Georgia forever.

Octavia was supposed to graduate in two days, as well. But she couldn't afford to become sentimental. She had to be a woman now, because she was about to be on her own. 

She caught sight of herself in her bedroom mirror. 

Octavia peered at herself...she didn't look like she had just been raped.

But she had. 

That day, another part of her died; and as she opened the door and cautiously stepped into the hallway, Octavia vowed that she would never give another person the chance to hurt her.

***

A dog and its owner passed by bringing Octavia out of the dark tangle that was her past.

She wiped the tears from her face and thought about what she should do. There was no way she could stay with Rob any longer.

She smiled mirthlessly, recognizing the similarities between herself now and herself at 18-years-old.

She was still running. 

As she made plans to leave as soon as possible, she caught sight of someone walking toward her.

There was something vaguely familiar about the gait; but she couldn't quite put her finger on what.

She put the thought out of her mind and mulled over whether or not Rob would just let her walk away.

Octavia had been privy to a lot of information. 

What if Rob decided one day that he wanted to off her the way he had done Greer?

At that moment, Octavia's head jerked up and she stared as the person continued to walk toward her.

She had figured out what seemed so familiar.

Her heart pounded erratically, as she watched the form draw closer. She didn't dare hope.

Please God, she thought. Don't let this be a joke...just this once, let me have a miracle.

It seemed as if the heavens heard her. As the man stopped in front of her, Octavia dropped to her knees, sobbing with joy.

Greer knelt beside her and tenderly pulled her into his arms. 



Perfume Ch. 06



AUTHOR'S NOTE: Hi, babies. A lot of you have been intrigued with Rob's character (much to my surprise)! I guess we women like our bad boys, right? So, as you've requested, I have inserted more from his point of view.

I'm still surprised that you guys are actually reading my stuff! It's amazing! And the emails/votes/feedback has been incredible. 

Just know, that each day I go just a little insane from the story all for you guys. *wink* I hope Chapter 6 is on a par with the rest of the chapters. It fought me like hell!!! 

Without further ado...Chapter 6. 

Enjoy!

LaLa

*

Prologue

Everything moved in slow motion as if time was suspended. 

Young Roberto saw the look of betrayal in his mother's eyes as she began to wail, beating Papa in the chest with her fist. 

"Mama, the baby!" he cried. Little Ethan was slipping from her arms!

Rob didn't understand what was going on. He just knew that everything had changed when the boy with the golden eyes had arrived.

As his father spoke to his mother in hushed tones, Rob took in how gentle and familiar his dad was with this boy.

"Maria, my love, not in front of the children...please. The boy cannot go back alone. Let me take him home and I promise we will talk when I get back. Please, mi amor," Hector Torres spoke quietly to his wife. 

As he turned to leave with the boy, Rob ran after them. He didn't know why, but Papa had to stay. 

There was a sense of urgency...of foreboding in Rob that he didn't quite understand. He had to get his father to stay.

"Dad! Where are you going? Please, don't go...come back!" he yelled.

But his father was leaving with the boy in tow; his quick, purposeful strides taking him further and further away from the house.

Rob turned back just in time to see that awful look he sometimes saw in his mother's eyes. 

Whenever she had that glazed, faraway expression, their father would tell them that Mama needed peace and quiet and would send them off to their room or outdoors. 

Rob was at a loss...he needed Papa so badly. He would know what to do.

Maria Torres awkwardly dropped the crying baby Ethan into Mike's young, thin arms. He'd barely caught him.

As the young boys watched, their mother turned and went zombie-like into the bedroom, leaving the door open in her wake. 

"Mama, what do I do?!" Mike cried. He frantically looked down at the baby...he was crying so hard that he wasn't breathing!

"Do something!" Mike yelled, turning to Rob.

Not having any more insight beyond his 14 years, young Roberto ran into his parents' bedroom. He came in just as Maria emerged from the closet and put the gun into her mouth.

"NOOOOOOO!!!!!!" he screamed. 

But he was too late. 

Chapter 6

Rob's eyes snapped open as he struggled to sit up. 

He was drenched in sweat and tangled in Lena's limbs. Sometime in her sleep, she had draped her arms and legs across his body, confining him.

Frustrated, Rob pushed her off, got out of bed and stumbled to the bathroom. Clenching his jaw, he attempted to force back tears. 

He could never get used to this shit.

As he splashed cold water on his face, he wondered idly how long he would have to live like this. The recurring nightmare was not a dream, but had been real. 

There was no waking up from what he and his brothers had gone through.

They had lost their mother because of their father's infidelity; and he had never been able to cope. But it seemed as if Rob was the only one who had been impacted by his mother's suicide. 

Even Mike and Ethan didn't really share his anger or his passion for avenging her. It was like they had forgotten what happened...had forgotten her. 

He didn't expect so much from Ethan, who didn't have any memories of their mother. Mike was a different story. He had known Maria...he had seen what happened the day she'd committed suicide.

Rob stared blindly at his reflection in the mirror. Completely out of his control, the memories of that day erupted from the recesses of his mind unbidden, and unwelcome. 

***

Rob had been 14-years-old. Summer was near, and he and Mike only had a couple days left of school. 

They both knew that they were going to the next grade, so Maria had decided to celebrate by cooking their favorite arroz con gandules. 

The scent of the delicious dish wafted through the house, making the atmosphere a celebratory one. 

When Hector Torres finally had walked in the door, the brothers had greeted him with excitement, fighting over who would talk to him about their day first. 

Hector stood stroking his chin as if in deep thought. Then he broke out into, "Eeny, Meeny, Miny, Moe," causing the boys to roll their eyes.

They were too old for the children's counting game, but they each secretly thought it was still funny.

Papa "landed" on Mike who began explaining how he'd gotten good grades on his report card. Within the next moment, they all heard the doorbell.

"I'll get it!" Rob had said.

That small action had changed their lives forever.

If only Eric had never shown up. She would probably still be alive, he thought bitterly. Rob had lost count of how many times he'd uttered that particular refrain.

After their mother's death, life had only gotten more difficult. He and his brothers were first sent to live with their mother's mother. 

Things wouldn't have been so bad if there was just Rob and Mike for the old woman to raise; the two could pretty much take care of themselves.

But Ethan had only been a few months old and there was no way their 75-year-old abuela could care for an infant.

Rob had been certain that their father would come for them then. But he hadn't. 

So he, Mike and Ethan were bounced to their aunt's home. Aunt Evalisse and her husband Arturo were less than pleased to have the boys in their home. 

Especially since they came with a baby. Arturo went into fits of rage every time Ethan had cried. For that reason, Rob made it his business to care for Ethan himself. 

Life at Aunt Evalisse's house was tense at best. The boys kept quiet and stayed in their room, out of the way. 

As much as Rob hated being there, he acknowledged that this was the only way the three of them could stay together.

Meanwhile, his hatred for his father began to dominate him. He figured Hector probably was riddled with guilt, which he should've been. 

But the best atonement would have been to take his sons and move on...continue onward with life. 

Instead, Hector had avoided the three of them as if they'd never existed. Sure they saw him every now and again when he dropped by to bring some money; but that was all. 

He had gone from being a permanent fixture in their lives to being a grief-stricken, drunken stranger.

To cheat on their mother, beget another son out of wedlock, cause a suicide and then abandon his sons...in Rob's eyes, it showed how weak his father was. 

So he had begun to call Hector by his first name; he was not worthy to carry the title of "Father."

As if they hadn't already been through enough, Rob and Mike found out that Hector had been spending a good deal of time with Eric. 

Rob and Mike had begun to stalk their nemesis. To satisfy his own burgeoning obsession, Rob needed to know where Eric lived, where he went to school, who his friends were...everything. 

One July afternoon, Rob and Mike had been hiding near Eric's house, waiting for some glimpse of him. They were shocked to see Hector walking toward the house with a big, beautifully wrapped present.

Eric had bounded out of the door, into Hector's arms, with a loud, "Papa!" He was so happy that he'd almost knocked the gift out of Hector's hand. 

The two had then walked into the house happily and animated...Hector obviously was not drunk.

The hurt Rob had experienced was almost his undoing. This usurper had stolen their mother AND father away from them. 

It also wasn't lost on Rob that his birthday had been only a month ago, and he had not seen or heard from his dad.

That day, he vowed that he would never have anything else to do with the man...and he would make sure that Eric paid for all the problems he had caused.

Rob began to bully Eric almost everyday. The scrawny boy wasn't that much younger than him, but Rob used his two years to his advantage. 

He would taunt Eric, beat him, and throw bricks and rocks through the windows of his house. Rob did anything possible to make Eric as miserable as he was.

But he actually got very little satisfaction from terrorizing Eric and his mother...if any. A very minute part of his soul acknowledged that Eric was just as much a victim in all this as the rest of them.

On some level, Rob did know that Eric wasn't the one who had cheated on his mother; and if he was honest, Maria Torres had already been different. 

After she had given birth to Ethan, she had not been the same mentally. Finding out about Hector's betrayal was just the nudge she needed to end it all.

But the more dominant, sinister part of Rob's core spoke the loudest. 

"Fuck that!" it said. "That bastard isn't a victim! Hector loves him, but hates you...and you came first! Eric is Jacob and you are Esau! Remember that!"

And so as Rob became a man, the darkness in him ruled. All the pain, the hurt, the injustice...it all turned into hatred and ruthlessness. He was no longer interested in love but in control. 

The harder, meaner and crueler he had gotten, the more muted his inner light became.

But now here he was none the better for the life he had created. Sure he had riches, but Rob was imprisoned in a hell of his own making.

He wanted nothing more than to put an end to all the animosity and all the hurt. He imagined living a normal life...even finding love. But he was loathed to become as weak as love usually made people. 

Rob snapped the light off and walked back into the room. There, he was faced with another one of his transgressions. He had fucked Lena knowing full well that Ethan had liked her.

He sighed.

Walking over to the sleeping woman, he smacked her on the ass with enough force to make her jump up, startled.

"I sleep alone," he growled. He didn't have to tell Lena twice; she grabbed her clothes and hurriedly exited the room. 

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Rob wearily ran his hand over his face. His gaze fell on the bags Octavia had dropped earlier when she'd run from the room. Turning on a lamp, he grabbed the bags and peered inside.

What he saw made him feel like shit. There were some cuff links, ties and earrings that he knew Octavia had purchased for him. 

Rob's stomach clenched. 

She had been bringing him gifts earlier. More proof of what a bastard he had become. He knew she had wanted more from him than what he was willing to give; but he had used her...and he hadn't even cared.

Rob was tired; but in his heart of hearts, he knew that he couldn't ask for forgiveness. He was sure that God had turned His back on him a long time ago. Redemption was far out of his reach. 

***

Octavia sighed as Greer pushed his erection into her. She writhed beneath him, whispering sweet nothings into the dark, still room. 

"I've missed you so much, baby," she moaned. 

Greer remained silent. He was focusing on thrusting in and out of Octavia's silken heat without spilling his seed into her. But she was making it difficult.

"Awww, shit!" he cried, gritting his teeth. She had squeezed down on his cock with her pussy, knowing how he loved it when she did that.

"Keep it like that, 'Tay! Fuck!!! Keep it like that!" he grunted.

Grinning with satisfaction, she obliged while Greer thrust in and out of her. For once, Octavia was intent on making him happy.

He looked down at their tangled bodies, loving the way Octavia's dark pussy gobbled his pale dick.

It sent him over the edge. As Greer poured his seed into her, Octavia wrapped her arms tightly around him, placing tender kisses on his face.

"Wow," he said as he rolled off her. "I should come back from getting killed all the time...especially if this is the reception I'll get," he joked.

Octavia rolled with Greer and laid her head on his chest. "Are you going to tell me what happened now?" she asked.

Sighing, Greer thought about what had happened after the robbery. The anger he always felt came rushing back. He had to get out of there.

He and Octavia had come back to the seedy hotel room he had been living in for the last month...he fucking hated this hole in the wall.

Getting out of bed, he hurriedly pulled on his clothes. "Get dressed. We'll talk on the way back to the beach," he said.

Octavia was obedient. She immediately noticed how different Greer was. He'd never commanded her to do anything before. She had to admit that she loved it.

Once they were outside, the balmy night greeted them with its soft breeze and bright, full moon. The stars glinted brightly overhead, making the night a romantic one.

Octavia leaned in closely to Greer, grabbing his hand.

He looked down at her. "You really did miss me, huh, 'Tay?" he asked.

"Yeah, I did," she whispered. "Listen, Greer...I fucked up in more ways than one. I can't begin to apologize for the way I've treated you...not only this past year, but the whole time. I've been a—slut," she finished. 

"And all you ever did was love me. How can you love somebody like me?" she asked.

Greer stopped walking and looked down at her. "What do you mean 'somebody like you?'" he asked. 

"'Tay, I get that you been through some tough shit, you know? But I knew all along that you were good. You just had to figure that out," he said. 

"I know I tolerated a lot and I let you get all that shit out your system. But now things are different. I gotta do me, too, and if we're gonna do this...we gotta do it right. No more men on the side. If you can't handle that, then walk," he said abruptly.

As he strode down the path toward the beach, Octavia stared after him with her mouth open. He had certainly told her!

She hastily ran to catch up with Greer. For the first time ever, she was the one chasing him.

As the two walked slowly along the beach, Greer told how he learned that Rob had put a hit out on him.

On the day of the robbery, he had been stoked that they'd gotten away with the money. 

He still had a lot of questions, though. Like what the fuck was Eric doing in the bank that day?

"You knew that was their brother?" Octavia asked.

"Yeah," Greer answered. "He lived not too far from our neighborhood. Rob and the others have always hated his guts, though. Something about the father cheated on their mother and had Eric with another woman. Rob blames the whole thing on Eric...it's pretty fucked up."

"So that's what the big to-do was," Octavia replied. She was beginning to put two and two together.

"Rob's been in a nasty mood since then. He's got major plans for the brother, but they won't tell me what," she said. 

"Well it's gonna be important that you get that info, 'Tay. We're gonna need it later on," he warned.

At Octavia's quizzical look, Greer just shook his head. "We'll get to that later. You wanna hear what happened or not?" he asked. He'd sounded irritated.

Yep, Octavia thought. He was definitely different.

***

Greer gave a loud hoot when he and Ethan began to drive to the second location. "That shit was amazing!" he exclaimed.

"Dude, look at my hands, they're still shaking!" Greer held up his trembling hands for Ethan to see.

But Ethan didn't look over at him. He just gripped the steering wheel tightly and focused on the road.

That's when Greer noticed that Ethan had been unusually quiet; and when they didn't go to the second meeting point, he knew that something was wrong.

As they pulled into this old, abandoned warehouse, Greer began to lose his cool.

"What the fuck is going on, Ethan?" he demanded.

"Listen man, we're here because I'm supposed to get rid of you," he had said quietly.

Greer had looked at Ethan as if he'd gone insane. Then he went into action. He grabbed the gun out of his pants and aimed it at Ethan, cocking it.

"What the fuck do you mean you're supposed to get rid of me?! This was my fucking plan! Now you're just gonna off me like a piece of shit?!"

Ethan's jaw clenched. "Put the gun down, Greer. I'm not going to do anything to you."

"Bullshit! I...I want my fucking money, NOW! Get that motherfucker on the phone," he demanded, referring to Rob.

Ethan sighed. He didn't feel like dealing with this shit. "Okay, first, I need you to calm down and get that fucking gun out of my face before I lose my cool, man," he warned.

"Fuck you!" Greer snapped.

Before he saw what was coming, Ethan grabbed the gun out of Greer's hand and clocked him in the face with the butt.

"Shit!" Greer roared.

"Never point a gun in my face, especially when I'm trying to help you," Ethan said calmly.

"Are you crazy?" Greer asked. "I could've shot you!"

Ethan smiled. "Not with an empty gun you couldn't have." To prove his point, he aimed the gun at Greer and pulled the trigger. The only sound was an audible Click.

"Motherfucker! You mean the whole time I had an empty gun?!" 

"Sorry, man. But it didn't seem like we could trust you with one...obviously we were right," Ethan said dryly.

"Look, enough of this bullshit. Rob wants you dead, but I...fuck me, but I can't do it. I don't think it's right. There," he finished.

"So what do we do?" Greer asked, still not fully trusting him. Why would he disobey his brother to help him?

Ethan sighed. "Do you have some cash on hand?" he asked.

"Yeah, I got a little something." Greer answered.

"Lay low for a while, but follow us to Mexico. Once we're there, I'll find you and get you your share of the money," Ethan said.

"How the fuck are you supposed to find me?" Greer asked, bewildered.

"Don't worry about all that. This is what I do," Ethan replied.

"Sorry man, but you gotta walk home from here. Look, lay low for a day or so, get on the plane to Mexico, find the seediest, nastiest hotel you can find, and I'll contact you," Ethan instructed.

As Greer got out of the car, he prayed that Ethan wouldn't shoot him in the back. But thankfully, he simply cranked up the car and put it in gear.

"Greer?" Ethan said.

Here it comes, Greer thought. "Yeah?" he asked.

"Don't make me regret this later on. I'm trying to do a good thing. So just...do what I tell you, alright?" Ethan asked.

Greer simply nodded.

And with that, Ethan sped off.

***

"Wow," Octavia said. "You mean Ethan helped you? I always liked that kid...I really feel bad for him, though," she said. 

"What do you mean?" Greer asked.

"Rob. I walked in on him fucking around with Lena. Ethan had been getting serious with her...so I know he had to be pissed," Octavia explained.

"Shit. That dude doesn't give a fuck about anybody. Is that why you were walking around alone on the beach?" he asked.

For the most part Greer wasn't usually so astute; but he had his moments... like this one. And it made Octavia uncomfortable. Shit! 

The old Octavia would've glossed over the subject. But she felt like she had been given another chance at life. She wanted to do things differently...so Octavia told the truth.

"Yeah. Like an asshole, I'd gone shopping and picked up some things for Rob, too. I went into his bedroom to show him what I'd gotten and walked in on Lena giving him head," she explained.

"You sure know how to pick 'em, don't you? What is it about assholes that females can't get enough of?" he wondered aloud.

"I don't know," Octavia replied. "Everybody does something they're not proud of at some point...this is just one of mine."

"Yeah, but if this hadn't happened, would you still be willing to be with me? Greer asked.

"Honestly I don't know. What I do know, is that I missed you, Greer; and I love you...I never stopped. And if you'd give me the chance, I'd like to prove it. I want to do things differently...on your terms," she said gazing up at him with her brown eyes.




Perfume Ch. 06



Greer could never stay mad at Octavia no matter how hard he tried. He leaned down and kissed her gently. "I'm going to hold you to that."

"So, tell me about this plan to get back at Rob," Octavia said coyly.

"You know, I hate to say it, but I think it's actually great that Rob slept with Lena. It will make Ethan more inclined to help us, don't you think?" he asked.

"Maybe...depends on what you have in mind," Octavia said.

"Well, the first part of the plan will be difficult. You have to go back to the house and pretend like nothing is wrong," Greer began.

As he gave Octavia the run down, she grinned impishly. The plan was just bad enough that Rob wouldn't get killed. But he definitely would get what he had coming to him. 

***

Wynston awoke to brilliant daylight streaming into Eric's bedroom. The clock on his nightstand read 6:20 a.m....she was surprised. 

Eric had made love to her the entire night, so she had expected to sleep later. Instead, she had awakened at her customary time. 

Her mind went immediately to Terrence. She wasn't able to squelch the pang in her heart over his absence. 

Wynston sent up a prayer for him and her parents that they would remain safe. She also prayed that T.J. didn't think she had abandoned him. 

Turning her attention to Eric's room, she decided that she liked his better than her own. Of course, her room was very nice, but there was something about a man's room...especially when it was neat.

Like Wynston's, Eric's was large with hardwood floors and an adjoining bathroom. His bed was larger though. Eric had said it was a California King; and the headboard was made of deep, rich wood and padded leather. 

Where she had a chaise lounge, Eric had an oversized La-Z-Boy.

Everything in his room had been darker, too. The accent wall facing the bed had been painted a warm, chocolate brown. A large, 42" flat screen TV hung on the wall. Why did he get a TV? she wondered. Wynston made a mental note to ask him about that. 

Each of the nightstands was the same, deep brown as the bed. 

She turned to look at his closet. The bifold doors were made of wood. One was open, revealing some of Eric's clothes. 

She thought it was incredibly sexy how he could dress to the nines in a suit and tie or dress comfortably in jeans and a t-shirt. Either way, he always made her breathless. 

And his scent. 

The room smelled of Eric everywhere. Sometimes he simply smelled of fresh Ivory soap. Other times when he wore his cologne, she wanted to bury her face in his neck. Wynston turned her head and sniffed her pillow...definitely Eric.

She could stay in his room forever.

She then turned to look at him as he slept. He was resting on his side, his muscled arm draped over her. Wynston thought how easy it would be to fall in love with him. 

She had always dreamed of having a man like Eric in her life. But the truth was men like him didn't usually go for women like her. Every man had his own idea of what beauty was; and it very rarely included a chubby woman with short hair, thick thighs, a big butt and a paunch. 

And it wasn't even the same for Wynston. She wasn't so struck by looks that she had to have a gorgeous man. She had just wanted someone good...which was so rare these days.

Now here Eric was in the flesh...the exception to the rule. Not only was he something wonderful, but he had liked her body type. Wynston struggled to not over think things. But she couldn't help wondering...what made him different from other, gorgeous men? 

How was it that someone like him found someone like her attractive? She could feel her mind kicking into overdrive. Stop it girl, she thought. Do not ruin this!

As if the universe was throwing her a bone, Wynston suddenly recalled a boy who had made her life hell in grade school. Jonathan Butler had been the worst. 

Wynston had been a chubby girl all her life; and Jonathan had pointed it out to her every chance he could. He would call her a whale and make "Mooing" sounds whenever she was near.

If that wasn't bad enough, whenever the teacher called her to the board in English class, Jonathan would make "BOOM-BOOM" noises as she walked. It was absolutely humiliating.

Fortunately for Wynston, she had gone to a different high school leaving Jonathan far behind. So she no longer had to deal with his teasing. 

It wasn't until years later when she had gone to college that Jonathan resurfaced, so to speak. Her freshman year she had met another plus sized girl...Monica.

To Wynston's surprise, Monica was dating the very same Jonathan Butler. "But...you're a big girl," Wynston had said.

"Mm-hm...that's how my baby likes 'em. I seen pictures of his old girlfriends and they're all big. Girl, he knows how to put it on me, too. Whenever I go to his place, we fuck like rabbits!" Monica exclaimed.

Unreal.

Wynston had stood there in a daze. Jonathan Butler liked heavy women...he had made her life hell because...he had liked her?? 

After that, she wasn't sure about anything; it seemed that everybody she met while in college made her re-evaluate her philosophy.

Which made her think of another guy she'd met in school. This guy's name was Bryce. 

He had been handsome and was a football player. Wynston had caught him looking at her a few times, but she blew it off thinking that had been impossible.

Bryce was ripped; he ate, slept and breathed football and worked out religiously. In her mind, there was no way he could be attracted to her curvy self.

Lo and behold, Bryce began dating one of the girls who lived in Wynston's dorm. Erin Meetze had been bigger than Wynston; and Bryce had practically worshiped the ground that girl walked on. 

They had even gotten married after college.

So, Wynston had ultimately concluded that beauty was 100% in the eye of the beholder. But life hadn't been done teaching her lessons. Later on, she had learned that there were two kinds of men. 

There were the Jonathans of the world. They were followers, and dated women they thought people would approve of. Then there were the men who were leaders and didn't give a damn what others thought.

When Eric stirred, she turned to look at him. 

Somebody had taught him to be himself. Or maybe it was an inherent part of his personality that he didn't give a rat's ass what other people thought. 

Wynston knew without a doubt that no one would tell Eric Torres who he could or couldn't like.

She contemplated his sleeping face. His eyebrows were dark and thick; his lashes long, and sooo curly. The stubble on his face was incredibly sexy.

She even loved the way the gold chain with the tiny cross looked against his caramel skin. 

With his eyes closed, Eric looked completely harmless...pretty even. She almost snorted. 

There was nothing pretty about Eric...beautiful maybe. Pretty implied that he was feminine in some way. Not so.

This man dominated everything. The room sizzled with energy when he walked into it. Her heart never failed to beat harder, faster whenever he was near. And he was hers...all hers. 

One point for the big girl, she thought smugly.

Wynston's gaze roamed down to Eric's full, sensual lips. Those lips...they had wreaked havoc on her last night. Memories from the night before made her bite down on her own bottom lip.

She was itching to kiss him.

Why shouldn't you kiss him? She thought. He'd had her spread eagle all over the house. And she was shy about a kiss?? 

Girl please, Wynston thought as she scooted closer to Eric. She lightly placed her hand on his solid chest and placed a soft kiss on his forehead. 

She then moved downward, doing the same to each of his eyelids. Wynston pulled back to see if she had awakened him. 

He was still asleep.

Giddy from her mischief, she continued her exploration. 

Wynston kissed the tip of his nose, and moved lower so that she placed a slow, sensual kiss on Eric's chin. 

She loved the way his facial hair scratched her lips. 

When Wynston looked up, it was to find that Eric's eyes were open; and his eyes had those tell-tale flecks of green in them.

"You missed a spot," he said huskily.

Wynston's nipples immediately puckered into tight, little buds.

She slipped her hand from his chest and cupped his face. Moving closer, she closed her eyes and softly placed her lips on Eric's.

She pulled back briefly, only to repeat the motion. She was expecting Eric to attack her at any moment, but surprisingly, he just lay there, allowing her control.

She loved it. 

Feeling bold, Wynston climbed out of the covers and pushed Eric onto his back. She watched as he put his hands behind his head. Straddling him, she leaned forward, and sucked his bottom lip into her mouth. She nibbled on it.

Wynston wanted more.

"Open for me," she whispered against his lips.

Eric obeyed, allowing Wynston to slip her tongue into his mouth. She began to grind her pussy on his stomach, deriving exquisite pleasure from the friction. 

When she sat up, she reached behind her in search of Eric's dick. To her delight, it wasn't hard to find...there was a very large tent in the sheets.

Freeing his cock from the covers, Wynston wrapped her hand around his thickness and pumped her fist up and down. After a few moments, she lifted herself and eased back down onto Eric's erection. 

They both moaned.

Wynston rolled her hips in a circular motion, taking all of him inside of her. She moved slowly, agonizingly.

Eric tried to get her to move faster, but she insisted on moving slowly. He had had enough. He needed to take over.

Rolling Wynston onto her back, Eric furiously made love to Wynston until they both exploded with their climax.

Sated, the two dozed in each other's arms.

***

When Wynston awoke again, it was after 9 a.m. She decided to get up and have breakfast waiting for Eric.

She quietly got out of bed, and made it to her room. She showered and headed downstairs.

On her way to the kitchen, Wynston stopped to open the blinds, loving the natural light that flooded into the house.

Once in the kitchen, she surveyed their stock and came to the conclusion that they were severely lacking. She and Eric would definitely have to go grocery shopping soon. 

With the limited ingredients she had, Wynston decided on veggie omelets with homemade salsa and some of the fresh fruit that was left over from the barbecue. 

As she looked for a skillet and utensils, Wynston realized that the house was entirely too quiet. 

"Music," she said.

Going into the living room, she lifted her heavy book of CDs that Eric had thoughtfully placed near the stereo system.

Flipping through the pages, her gaze fell on one of her favorite albums. Wynston knew exactly what she was in the mood for. 

Loading the disc into the changer, she sashayed back into the kitchen, smiling as the music began.

***

Eric awoke to the smell of food cooking and the sound of Jill Scott crooning her song, "The Way."

He smiled his very self-assured smile. "Yes it is," Eric said when the singer asked, "Is it the way you love me, baby?"

It didn't take a genius to figure out what kind of mood Wynston was in; and he had been responsible. He hurriedly got out of bed and threw on some sweatpants.

When Eric got downstairs, the scene that greeted him made him stop and lean against the wall, crossing his arms.

Wynston had her back to him and had been pouring eggs into a skillet. She then picked up a wooden spoon and began singing along with the song.

Eric remembered asking her if she sang, but she had brushed it off as if it wasn't a big deal. It was now obvious that she was being humble. 

Her voice was beautiful.

He continued to watch as Wynston chopped fruits and vegetables, and provocatively swayed her hips to the music...she wasn't wearing anything but a t-shirt and panties, either. 

Apparently that was her favorite mode of dress.

Everything about what he was seeing made him want to be around this woman all the time.

As the song faded, Wynston turned to grab the stereo's remote control and jumped a mile, screaming.

"Eric!!!!" she wailed, throwing a potholder at him. "How long have you been standing there?!"

Leaning away from the wall, Eric caught the potholder easily and walked into the kitchen. 

"Long enough to know you're a singer; and apparently you can cook...at least eggs, anyway," he teased.

Wynston just smiled mischievously. She could cook a whole lot more than eggs. She gave Eric a month...he would have a potbelly very soon.

Unaware of her plans, he walked up to Wynston and gave her a long, soft kiss. When the two broke apart, they were both breathless.

"Sit down! Breakfast is ready," Wynston said quickly before Eric had the chance to drag her upstairs. At this rate, they would never do anything but stay in his bedroom!

"I hope you like veggie omelets...it's all I could come up with considering what we have. We need to go grocery shopping," she said.

"Yes, I'll put anything you have to offer in my mouth," Eric said hotly as he sat at the island. 

Wynston blushed. After all the lovemaking they'd done, she was still blushing. 

Eric shook his head.

"And yes, we can go shopping. I wanted to take you out today anyway...show you around," Eric informed her.

"Ooh...that sounds like fun. Where we going?" she asked.

"I was thinking we could go to the Old Marketplace. It has all these old timey, country shops. There's a bookstore, record store. You name it, it's out there. And after we look around, maybe we can stop for lunch and then tackle grocery shopping."

Wynston nodded. "Sounds good...I'm actually kinda excited." She sat next to Eric.

"Good. It's a date, then," Eric said, pulling her chair closer to his.

As he took a bite of his omelet, he was impressed. None of the women he'd ever dealt with could so much as boil an egg let along make an omelet. 

Leaning over, he kissed Wynston on the cheek. "This is good, sweetheart."

"Why thank you." Wynston blushed shyly.

As they ate, they talked and joked with each other; the scene was just as intimate as if they had been making love. 

Eric asked Wynston about her singing and learned that she had been doing it since she had been a child. At church and in school she had always been on the choir or in chorus.

Wynston in turn asked Eric some of the burning questions she had wanted to know about him. For instance, she was dying to know how he felt about testifying against his brothers.

Eric had shared that he wasn't too keen on it, and had still been grappling with it. Nobody wanted to be the rat...and if there was one thing he wasn't, it was a snitch.

Wynston nodded her head, understanding fully. "So what will you do?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Even though they're assholes, they're still my brothers; and I just can't see myself going on the stand and testifying against them," Eric said.

Wynston sighed. "I honestly don't know what to tell you. That's a difficult one. Maybe the authorities can just rely on my testimony," she offered.

Eric shook his head. "There's no way in hell I'll allow you to put yourself in danger that way while I just sit by and watch. Everything will work out in its own time," he said confidently.

Afterward, Eric did the dishes while Wynston wrote a grocery list. Then he took her back upstairs and made love to her once more before they showered and dressed.

Eric was the first to make it back downstairs. 

While he waited for Wynston, he flipped through her music collection and was pleasantly surprised to see that it was very eclectic.

Everything from Beethoven's 5th to The Mars Volta to Sade to Tony Bennett was in there. She even had Folk music from Scotland. 

He didn't see any Spanish music or Raggaeton in there...he would have to remember to introduce her to Boricua music.

Just then, the object of his musings descended the stairs. She was wearing a short, denim skirt and a sexy, turquoise, off-the-shoulder top. Her flip flops and earrings matched her clothing...she looked delectable.

Eric was already figuring how long it would take him to get her upstairs for a quickie.

"Don't even think about it," Wynston said, correctly reading his thoughts. 

"At this rate, we'll never get outta here," she laughed. With that, she practically ran out the door ahead of Eric. 

She had to fight the urge to stay herself. Eric looked absolutely fine in his jeans, white t-shirt, and white sneakers. 

Seeing him in a blue and white NY Yankees baseball cap was her undoing. There was just something about a gorgeous man wearing a baseball cap that did it for Wynston.

She quickly chased away her thoughts before she was the one who dragged Eric back into the house.

"Where's the car we came here in?" Wynston asked as she stared at the huge Ford F-150 that was parked in the driveway.

Eric opened the passenger door for her. "It's just something the government loaned us while we're here. It's more practical, and we should blend right in."

Turns out he was right. 

There were more pickup trucks than Wynston could count. As they traveled along the quiet neighborhood, she took in the sights which were so different from Baltimore.

Back at home, there was never really a quiet moment. There was a lot of bustling, noise and crowds at all times. 

There weren't too many people traveling by foot; there was maybe one city bus, but as far as public transportation went, there was none. For the most part, it looked as if the majority of people owned cars.

And even the traffic was different. Eric was actually able to drive and only stopped a couple times for red lights or stop signs. Other than that, they sailed smoothly down the southern streets.

Even the air was different. 

It was fresher and cleaner than back home. There were trees and flowers everywhere, and as they drove, Wynston saw that people actually had real gardens.

She smiled, relishing in the difference. If she wasn't careful, she could get used to living here.

They pulled up to a shopping plaza that stretched as far as the eyes could see. "Where do you want to go first?" Eric asked.

"Hmm," Wynston said. She looked around her at all the options. "Let's start here," she said, pointing at the shop they had parked in front of. 

As Eric had said, it looked like an old, country store but she was unsure of exactly what it was they sold. 

"I think you're gonna get a kick out of that one," he said mysteriously. 

Wynston was intrigued.

"Before I forget..." Eric pulled a thick envelope from the back pocket of his jeans and handed it over to her. 

"Another "gift" from the government," he said.

Wynston opened the envelope to find that it was stuffed with cash. She remembered during their briefing with the agents that she and Eric were to only make cash purchases.

"Eric, really? I can't walk around with this much cash on me!" she exclaimed. 

There had to have been at least $5,000 in the envelope.

"I tell you what...give me a few dollars to put in my wallet. You take some of it and put it in your purse. The rest can go in the glove box until we get back home. Okay?" he asked.

"That's better...sheesh!" she said, making him chuckle.

After the money was tucked safely away, they got out of the truck and walked into the store.

To Wynston's surprise, it was a candy store. She thought of how Terrence would lose his mind over a place like this. 

The store was completely charming. It even had floorboards that reminded her of those old Western movies. And the best part wasn't just that they sold candy. 

They sold the stuff she grew up eating that supermarkets didn't really carry any more...and everything was in its original wrapper. 

There were Sugar Daddies, Mary Janes, Bit-O-Honey, Chick-O-Stick, Original Jolly Ranchers, Charleston Chews, Clark Bars, and even Nestle Chunky Bars. 




Perfume Ch. 06



As Wynston strolled through the store, she saw Now & Laters, tubes of Rainblo Bubble Gum.

"Shut up!" she gasped as she stared at all the flavors of Freshen-Up Gum. She had completely forgotten about those. 

They reminded her of her great-grandfather who used to chew them religiously.

By the time they left, Wynston had a ridiculous amount of candy and gum. "You do know the store isn't going anywhere, right?" Eric asked, eyeing her bag.

"Not the point," she said. "And just for that, you can't have any," she said, sticking her tongue out at him.

Eric swatted her on the rear for her cheekiness.

Before they left, Wynston asked the clerk if she could leave the bag in the store so the heat wouldn't melt the chocolates. Then she and Eric headed to the next store.

As the hours passed, and the two walked from place to place, their stomachs began to rumble, so they decided to stop for lunch.

Eric was pleased to find that his favorite diner was still open. Preston's sold the best burgers, and he and Bo had practically lived there during their breaks from school. 

The food was so good here that Eric would always crave a Preston burger once he was back in Baltimore.

As they walked in, the aroma of the greasy burgers and fries met them. Eric felt like he had come home; and from what he could see, everything was still the same.

Black swivel stools were still lined at the front if customers wanted to eat at the counter. The old, green booth seats were scarred, the stuffing visible...it was a welcome sight.

Eric led Wynston to a booth and sat facing her. He was pleasantly surprised to see that even the menus had not changed.

As Wynston looked at the menu, Eric took the opportunity to examine the diner. He didn't need to look at the menu because he already knew what he'd come for. 

A movement at the counter caught his eye, and Eric turned to see the owner of the restaurant. 

"What the hell?" he muttered.

Mr. Preston was now old as dirt. Eric thought the old man had died by now; but not only was he alive, he still looked to be very much a part of the restaurant. 

He moved slowly, filling the salt and pepper shakers. 

"What is it?" Wynston asked, following his gaze.

"Nothing. I'm just surprised to see the owner is still here. He's just...old," Eric said.

It was as if the old man had heard him. Mr. Preston turned suddenly, pinning Eric with his stare. 

As Eric's brows shot up, Wynston began to laugh. She covered her mouth and watched as the old-timer continued to stare at Eric.

She was in stitches. "I think he picked you up on his hearing aid frequency," she gasped, holding her side.

Eric's mouth twitched as he tried his best not to laugh. Mr. Preston was still looking at him. 

"What the fuck?" Eric said, wondering what the hell Preston was doing.

That sent Wynston into another peal of laughter. She didn't know if she could take any more...she was having a hard time breathing.

As if the situation wasn't already hilarious, Mr. Preston used the remote panel on his Hoveround to turn the chair around. He slowly made his way to their table.

Tears were now rolling down Wynston's cheeks.

"Shhh...be cool," Eric said.

Wiping her face, Wynston didn't know how, but she managed to sober up by the time Mr. Preston made it over to them.

"YOU THAT YANKEE BOY FROM UP NORTH?" Mr. Preston shouted.

Eric quickly darted his eyes at Wynston. She was tearing up again, but other than that, she remained expressionless. He knew better, though, and expected her to lose it at any moment.

"SIR?" Eric asked loudly.

Wynston bit her lips, fidgeting in her seat. She picked up the menu and began fanning herself vigorously.

"YOU THAT YANKEE BOY USED TO COME DOWN HERE EVERY SUMMER? ALWAYS WAS HANGIN'AROUND HERE WITH THE SHERIFF," Mr. Preston explained. 

"Yes, sir. I did hang around here with Bo every summer," Eric answered. He was surprised the old man remembered him.

"SPEAK UP, SON. I CAN'T HEAR YA!"

"YES SIR, THAT'S ME!" Eric hollered. Wynston put her head down and worked her "fan" harder.

"THOUGHT SO. NEVER FORGET A FACE. EVEN A YOUNG'UN LIKE YERS. WELCOME BACK, SONNY. MISSUS," he said tipping his hat to Wynston. And with that, Mr. Preston cruised away.

Amazing. 

Eric stared at Mr. Preston's retreating back and hoped he also would be in possession of his mental faculties if he made it to ancient.

He turned his attention back to Wynston. "Thought I was gonna have to whoop his ass," Eric said.

Wynston completely lost it.

***

And so they spent the next few hours enjoying each other's company, exploring the town. For Eric, it was as if he was rediscovering Summerville. 

The place held many memories for him, but some things had changed a great deal since he was last there.

As Eric shared his past with her, and pointed out different places where events had taken place, Wynston made the experience a good one. 

Having her company and watching the delight in her face at each new discovery was infectious. She was funny, and she made him laugh with her jokes and unique outlook. 

More than once, Eric thought what if he had not seen her at the bank? What if life had not thrown them together? He didn't want to think about it. 

After they finished loading the ridiculous amount of groceries into the truck, Eric watched the way Wynston's hips swayed when she returned the shopping cart. 

When she came back, she stepped up on the running board to get into the truck; but Eric stopped her. He grabbed Wynston and pulled her in for a kiss. 

She had never been one for PDA, in fact she always felt pretty uncomfortable if a couple started going at it in front of her. Now here she was, probably making others feel just as uncomfortable.

She didn't care. Wynston wanted him.

Eric and Wynston finally made it back home. As Eric hauled the bags in, Wynston put the food away. 

That night, the two settled for a salad as the burgers at Preston's had been huge and greasy.

Afterward, they did the dishes and then retreated to the living room, and listened to music for hours while they talked. They even had a friendly bet going. Whoever could outdo the other in terms of nostalgia would win bragging rights.

The competition was heavy, each pulling out old favorites the other hadn't heard in a very long time. Wynston was very near to losing when Eric pulled out the heavy artillery. 

He turned his back to her, making sure she couldn't see what he was doing. Rummaging through his own collection of CDs, Eric looked over his shoulder to see that Wynston had snuck up behind him and was peering over his shoulder.

"Get outta here!" he growled, making Wynston laugh.

When he found what he had been looking for, he went to the stereo and loaded the disc into the player. 

When Eric pushed "Play," Anita Baker's smooth voice resounded across the airwaves singing her love ballad, "Angel."

Wynston screamed and fell back on the couch. "That's dirty!" she shrieked.

Eric reclined back in the loveseat, very sure that he had won. He was also enjoying the way Wynston snapped her fingers and gyrated along with the song. 

"Do you concede victory?" he asked when the song had gone off.

Wynston got up and walked to him. She bent down so that her lips were barely touching his. "Not yet...sucker!" 

Eric tried to smack her on the bottom but missed as she scooted out of reach.

She went to her CDs once more in a final attempt to best him. As she loaded the CD, she looked back at Eric. "Okay, Torres. What do I get if I win...aside from bragging rights?"

"You get to make love to me," he said huskily.

"Okay. What do you get if you win?"

"I get to make love to you," he said smiling.

"Deal." 

When the song began, Eric leaned his head back against the loveseat. It was going to be a close one. Janet Jackson's "Anytime, Anyplace" was playing.

Wynston walked up to him again, but this time she held out her hand. "Dance with me, baby?" she asked.

Eric's cock jumped at the endearment and the request. She was getting more comfortable with him. He liked that.

Getting up, he wrapped his arms around Wynston's waist and led her to the middle of the floor. Bending, he kissed her lightly on the neck as they swayed slowly to the music.

Eric held her tightly, loving the feel of her womanly softness. 

Wynston's eyes closed as the sensual love ballad swirled around them, creating a magical ambience between the two. 

"Come upstairs with me," Eric said when the song had finished.

"Okay," she whispered. 

Eric grabbed the remote and didn't even bother to press "Stop" but hit the "Power" button instead.

Wynston turned off the lights and they headed upstairs to Eric's room. Once they were undressed, she lay on the bed and spread her legs, welcoming Eric. There was no foreplay, no long kisses or touching. 

Just raw need.

Wynston simply pulled Eric toward her with a quiet, "Please." He eased himself into her tight, wet heat and made love to her, bringing them both to a shattering orgasm.

Afterward, Eric wrapped his arms around Wynston, spooning her. He slipped his thigh between hers, loving the soft feel of her backside pressed tightly against him.

Wynston lie awake, thinking about Terrence and what he was doing. He was never far from her thoughts. 

As was customary, she prayed for him and was almost asleep when Eric's voice woke her.

"You asleep, sweetheart?" he asked. He was lightly raining kisses on her neck and shoulder.

"Not yet," she answered. 

"Sing for me."

"What do you want to hear?" she asked.

"Anything. I just want to hear your voice," he said quietly.

Wynston thought of her mood and how everything had been so bittersweet for her of late. She had been so happy with Eric...couldn't believe they had found each other. But she was still without her son.

She remembered the scene from the movie "Corrina, Corrina" when Jevetta Steele had sung "Over the Rainbow." So Wynston closed her eyes and began to softly croon that version of the song. 

As she finished, Wynston's eyes filled with tears. Sensing that something was wrong, Eric turned her around to face him. He knew this was about her son. 

He pulled her into his arms and held her tightly, offering comfort in the best way he could. They stayed that way until Wynston's crying subsided; and soon Eric could hear her soft, even breathing as she slept.

He lay in the dark room thinking, his mind already planning.

***

Detective Anthony Mowry lounged on the bed of his hotel room, looking at the photographs of Wynston. One minute he had been watching old TV reruns. Before he knew it, she was at the foot of the bed wearing nothing. 

Her large breasts swayed hypnotically as she crawled onto the bed, stopping between his legs. 

"M-Ms. Hughes-Grey. What are you doing here?" he asked. 

"Shh, detective...just relax and let me do this for you," she whispered seductively.

Wynston was unbuttoning his pants and pulling them down. His cock sprang from its confines, fully engorged.

"Mmm," she moaned. "Can I taste it?" 

Unable to speak, the detective simply nodded his head dumbly.

He watched as Wynston slid her tongue around her lips, readying them to receive his erection. 

When she took the head into her mouth, Anthony could barely control himself. It had been so long since he'd been with a woman.

He threaded his fingers in her hair as she took more of him in her mouth, and began to bob her head up and down. She was slurping loudly on his member. 

Wynston magically worked her hands on him, firmly gripping his cock in her small hands as she jerked him.

To his surprise and enjoyment, Wynston deep throated him, taking in his entire length. 

He couldn't take anymore.

Before he could stop himself, Detective Mowry spurted in Wynston's mouth, almost shouting from the sheer force of his climax.

When he woke up, it was to find that he had been dreaming. This had been just one among a series of dreams in which Wynston had been pleasuring him.

He looked down at his pants to see that he had come on himself...again.

"I am way too old to be doing shit like this," he mumbled to himself.

Getting up from the bed, the detective disrobed and went into the bathroom to clean himself. 

He thought about what he had seen today when he was watching Wynston and that motherfucker.

Torres had been all possessive of her as they walked through the shopping plaza. The last straw for the detective was when he'd had to sit there and watch the two of them suck face.

Eric Torres had been the bane of his existence. On the day of the bank robbery, Anthony had instantly been taken with Wynston. It didn't matter to him that she was full-figured.

Hell...that was what he preferred. But there was something about this woman that went beyond her looks. She had a gorgeous face, yes; and her body was curvaceous.

But she had a sweetness and intelligence about her that he liked. She was significantly younger than his 45 years, but what was age when it came to love?

Anthony had decided upon first meeting her that he would like to get close to Wynston...maybe even court her. But then that fucking peacock, Torres had swooped in; and before the detective knew it, Eric was fucking her.

Yes, he was aware that they were fucking. 

The two officers he had assigned to stand outside of Wynston and Torres's rooms at the hotel had reported how she'd gone into Eric's room late in the night.

They had also reported hearing the sounds of the two having sex. It had turned Anthony's stomach. He felt like Wynston deserved better than that pompous asshole.

But he understood that this was a classic case of hero worship. That jerkoff had "saved her life" so she felt beholden to him...that was perfectly normal. 

But Detective Mowry hoped that Wynston would soon see Torres for the conniving thief that he was.

Anthony didn't trust him. There was no way in hell he could have been in that bank when his brothers robbed it, and had not been a part of the heist. 

The detective didn't believe for one minute that Torres was innocent; and he was going to prove it.

So he had volunteered to come to South Carolina to keep a close eye on the two. Today had been the first day he'd seen them out together.

Word was that Wynston had taken it hard that she had to leave her son. That's when Torres had come to him about getting anything from the boy to sustain his mother.

Anthony had flatly refused, not caring about anymore plans Torres wanted to hatch. Somebody had needed to put this fucking prick in his place and let him know that he wasn't running shit.

So the asshole had gone over his head and put in the request with some hotshot investigator friends of his. Within a couple days, the package was in South Carolina.

Oh, how he hated Eric Torres. He would watch and wait for the best time to strike. Torres would slip up...of that, the detective had no doubt.

And when he did, Anthony vowed that he would be there to make Eric's life miserable. Then he would help Wynston pick up the pieces. Before it was all over, she would be sucking his dick for real.

***

Ethan sat in the dark. He was downstairs in the formal living room of the villa nursing a bottle of wine. His mood had been pensive. As he looked up at the cathedral ceiling, he caught sight of Lena through the upstairs landing.

She hurriedly left Rob's room, wearing only her underwear. She was hurriedly pulling on her t-shirt.

Ethan's jaw jumped. 

He was pissed the fuck off. This wasn't the first time Rob had done something like this to him. In his quest to "prove that all women were whores," Rob had fucked every woman Ethan had been interested in.

He was done following Rob around doing whatever the fuck he commanded. And he certainly was tired of being loyal to a lawless, black-hearted bastard like his brother.

As Ethan tossed back the wine, he contemplated his next move. It was time to show Rob that he was not above the law. He was answerable. Dropping the bottle to the floor, Ethan pushed to his feet. 

It was time he paid Greer a visit. They had a lot to talk about.



Perfume Ch. 07



Chapter 7

Detective Mowry was jolted awake by the sound of his cell phone vibrating on the nightstand. He glanced at the clock...2 a.m.; and it was a private caller.

"Mowry speaking," he answered groggily.

"What's the deal with our boy?" the caller asked.

Detective Mowry sighed. 

"Look man, I asked you not to call me on this phone. What part of that is difficult for you to understand?" he said irritably. 

"As long as I'm shelling out my money, you answer the phone whenever I fucking call," the voice seethed.

The detective would be so damn glad when his business with Mike Torres was finished; but then again, he wasn't stupid. 

Since he'd chosen to deal with a criminal, he knew his business with Mike would never be done.

Before coming to South Carolina, Mike had contacted him with a proposal. In exchange for $500,000, all Mowry had to do was ease off of the case and not try so hard to find the Torres brothers.

He had scoffed, telling Mike he was crazy and not to waste his time.

The next morning, the detective had gone to the ATM and withdrawn $20. His jaw had dropped when his Available Balance had increased by $500,000. 

Anxiously, Mowry had returned to his hotel room and stared at his cell phone, willing it to ring. When it did, he'd almost jumped out of his skin. 

"Like our little gift to you?" Mike had asked.

"Take it back. I don't want this, take it all back before I turn you in," Detective Mowry had threatened.

"And what will you say, detective? How will you explain to the authorities how you came by $500,000?" Mike had said.

Closing his eyes, he knew he had been outmaneuvered. So from that day on, Mike would contact him concerning a "favor," and the detective complied. In exchange, another $500,000 was deposited into his account.

If he was completely honest, he liked having money. All his life he had worked hard and what did he have to show for it? He was almost 50-years-old, alone, and broke.

What was a little aggravation every now and again compared to what money could buy him? Once he had Wynston, he would be able to take care of her the way she deserved.

But first, he had to tend to the business at hand. "Look, why did you call me?" 

"Where is Eric?" Mike asked.

"That's classified. Even I can't divulge that kind of information."

Mike laughed. "You obviously forgot who the fuck you're talking to, Detective. You're in no position to tell me what you can or can't do...I own you. Do you realize that with a single phone call I can crush you?" 

Mowry listened to him grimly. "What do I get out of this?"

"You mean aside from the million I'm paying you?" Mike asked incredulously.

"Exactly. You know what, Mr. Torres? The price has just gone up. There's one more thing I need...in exchange for something you might find useful."

Mike hesitated...he was interested. "What is it?"

"When you take care of Eric, make sure you leave the woman out of it. She's mine," he said.

"In exchange for?"

"Pertinent information of course. Your girl, Angela Reed...we know that's only an alias. Apparently, this Octavia Hall spent the day of the robbery depositing customers' money into a one Greer Dunn's account. Ironically, Mr. Dunn disappeared on the same day she did...on the day of the robbery," Detective Mowry explained.

"You'll be able to find Mr. Torres in South Carolina...Summerville. We'll speak more once you get here," he said. "And Mr. Torres, one more thing...don't ever call me on this cell phone again."

With that, he hung up the phone.

***

There was a soft knock at the door. Greer and Octavia both sat up and looked at each other. Quietly, Octavia hid inside the bathroom while Greer went to the door.

"Yes?" he asked.

"It's me, open up."

He opened the door to reveal Ethan standing there. True to his word, he had managed to find Greer.

As he stood back to let Ethan in, Greer took in his countenance. He too seemed different. If he had to guess, he would say that Ethan had been affected by Rob and Lena's betrayal. 

Greer knew that feeling all too well.

Hopefully that would work in their favor...he and Octavia needed Ethan in order to execute his plan.

"You can come out, 'Tay," he called. 

Hesitantly, Octavia opened the door and stuck her head out. When she saw that it was Ethan, she grinned; she was genuinely happy to see him. Ethan had come to mean a lot to her. 

He was very smart and always cheerful with a laidback air about him. He wasn't arrogant or jaded like his brothers. Octavia had always enjoyed his company most.

When she took in his expression, her smile faltered. Ethan didn't look good; and she didn't need to guess why.

Wordlessly, she walked to him and gave him a big hug. She felt guilty as hell. Octavia knew she had been no different from Lena. How many times had Greer been this upset by something she had done?

"I'm alright," Ethan said quietly. "Let's talk business."

"Actually, I'm glad you mentioned that. We have a business venture for you," Greer said. 

At Ethan's questioning look, Greer launched into the details of his plan. As he explained that the three of them could seek revenge against Rob, Ethan smiled wickedly.

"So are you in?" Octavia asked when Greer finished.

"I'm in," Ethan replied without hesitation. "But this needs to be kept between the three of us. Mike is completely loyal to Rob...even worse, he's a follower."

"Understood," Greer replied.

"We leave Mexico soon, so we got a lot to do before then," Ethan said. 

"You two need to lay low as much as you can while you're traveling. The cops are onto you. Apparently Angela Reed was busy depositing money into your account, Greer, which led to them sniffing you out," Ethan said, staring at Octavia. 

The disapproval in his voice was evident.

"What?!" Greer exclaimed. "You mean you—'Tay, really?!" He couldn't even get the words out.

"I know...and I'm sorry!" she whined. 

Disgusted, Greer turned away. He had traveled in the wide open like an idiot. It was a miracle he didn't get picked up on his way to Mexico!

"Octavia, you have to act natural around Rob, but don't overdo it. Pout a little and act hurt, but don't be going back to the villa all chipper and happy," Ethan was saying.

"Got it," Octavia said, but her attention was still on Greer who was clearly agitated.

"There's something else you should know," Ethan warned. "Rob was getting tired of you. When he and I were going to leave for Amsterdam, he had planned to leave you behind...with nothing."

Octavia's eyes rounded into big circles. "That piece of shit," she hissed.

Greer couldn't help but smirk. 

Some women never learned. They all wanted the bad boy, then when he was true to his nature, they wanted to act all hurt. Greer could never understand the logic.

"I swear, 'Tay, you'd better start worshiping the fucking ground I walk on," he grumbled.

Sheepishly, Octavia attempted to change the subject.

"Hey, what will we do about Lena?" she asked.

"That part's easy. She switches places with you. Instead of leaving you behind, that will be Lena. Let's see her find her way back to Baltimore with nothing but the shirt on her back," Ethan said grimly.

Octavia looked at him. She'd never seen this cold side of him before. Ethan was definitely a Torres.

"Mike also found out that Eric and that woman are in South Carolina. So that will require some traveling on my part," he explained.

As the trio continued to talk, they made plans to set things into motion immediately. What they had planned was so bad that Greer almost felt sorry for Rob.

Almost...but not quite.

***

It was Thursday evening and Wynston, Eric, Bo and Lacey had all decided to go out to dinner. They'd chosen McKelty's, a local bar and grill. It was a nice, clean place, with a mixed crowd and excellent food. 

As Wynston backed into a parking space, Eric watched her expertly maneuver the big truck. 

It was sexy as hell.

"You anticipating a fast getaway?" he asked.

Wynston smiled. "By the time we gaze at each other soulfully all evening and get all horny, you'll be glad I backed in."

She had a point. "Stay right there," Eric said.

He got out of the truck and came around to the driver's side opening the door for her. But as Wynston slid onto the ground, Eric didn't move back to give her room. He just stood there, towering over her.

Her tantalizing perfume wafted around him, making him lean forward to catch more of her scent. 

Wynston and Eric looked at each other. There always seemed to be a magic, love spell that twirled around them, invisible but powerful.

"See this is the soulful staring I was talking about," she joked.

Eric wrapped his arms around Wynston's waist and pulled her closer. "Kiss me like you mean it," he whispered.

Placing her arms around his neck, Wynston complied. She kissed him with all the ardor and intensity she felt for him.

When Bo and Lacey pulled up, it was to find the two putting on a show...as usual. 

Over the past couple of months, Eric and Wynston had been inseparable; and more often than not, they were in the middle of making other people feel uncomfortable with their public displays.

"Wow. I thought he would've cooled off by now," Bo said.

"What do you mean? The boy's in love," Lacey replied. "Personally, I don't think he could've found anybody better."

Bo grunted his agreement. 

They had gotten to know Wynston and had found that she was just as smart and funny as Eric said she was; but most importantly to Bo and Lacey, Wynston returned Eric's affections...that much had been obvious.

She always looked at him with adoration. The two of them joked and teased each other often. They were a good match, Bo had to admit that. But he wondered if his best friend was moving a little too fast. 

Eric tended to do things in grand style and the reality was he and Wynston had only known each other for a little over three months. 

Bo - who was level-headed - just wanted to see a natural, lengthy courtship take place. 

They needed to learn each other outside of these extenuating circumstances. Right now, Eric and Wynston were thrown together, but what would happen when they went back home and real life began again?

Would they fit into each other's lives? Would Eric want to be a father to Wynston's son? 

All these things ran through Bo's head often. His best friend's happiness was important to him, after all. He just wanted to see the two do things right.

The husband and wife continued to silently watch Eric and Wynston. "Wow," was all Bo could say as he drove off to look for a parking space.

***

As the foursome entered the restaurant, they took in the atmosphere. The crowd was boisterous and the energy was upbeat.

Tonight the bar was having a singing contest. It was very much akin to Karaoke Night, except they had a live band complete with back-up singers and all. There was a cash prize of $100 for the winner. 

While they perused the menu, the two couples listened to people as they went up on stage.

Some were good, and others were in it purely for the fun...they had to be because they sounded horrible. But it was all very entertaining; until several people began singing the same song. 

When the third person got up and sang "California Gurls" by Katy Perry, Wynston put her head on Eric's shoulder in misery. 

Lacey was none too pleased. "Damn kids," she muttered. "They're not even California girls!"

"Seriously! Bo, where's your gun?" Wynston asked.

He laughed at her, almost choking on his iced tea. "I'll make you a deal. If somebody else gets up there with the same song, I'll hand you my gun under the table."

Wynston tossed back her head and laughed the way she did when something was really funny to her.

Eric chuckled and put his arm on the back of the booth, behind Wynston. "You know, Hughes, you should go up there and show them how it's done," he said. 

They all had taken to calling her by her mother's maiden name for some reason.

Wynston had thought about getting up to sing. But she wasn't sure if she was in the mood. Her vocal chords were practically jumping at the chance, though.

"You sing?" Lacey asked. "Girl you better go up there and do the damn thing! That is, unless you're scared."

"Oohhhh. You gonna take that, Hughes?" Eric instigated.

Wynston laughed. She knew exactly what they were doing.

"I don't think she has the guts, personally," Bo said, throwing in his jab.

"You all are so ridiculously transparent," she said. Throwing down her napkin, Wynston nudged Eric to let her out of the booth.

"Let me show these chirrun what the business is. Eric, order me the seafood platter, will you? Be right back!" With that, she glided to the front in only the way she could.

"Down boy," Lacey said as Eric watched Wynston walk away. 

She and Bo never got tired of teasing him about his fascination with Wynston. The girl had Eric wrapped around her finger.

"Don't even bother. He'll be in another world until she comes back," Bo said loudly. 

Eric didn't even hear him.

When Wynston had made her way to the front, she spoke with the emcee and gave him her name and song selection. Once he spoke to the band and got the thumbs up, he took to the mic.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have another victim—oops, I meant CONTESTANT coming to the stage. She goes only by Hughes, everybody; let's welcome her to the stage!"

As the crowd welcomed her, Wynston looked at her table and saw that they were going ballistic, making a ton of noise for her...and of course, Eric was standing, cheering the loudest.

She smiled at their enthusiasm.

As the band began to play the first chords of Ledisi's "Goin Thru Changes," Wynston felt herself begin to transform. The music moved her in a way that she could never put into words.

She could completely relate to Beyonce when she spoke of "Sasha Fierce." 

As a vocalist, something overtook Wynston when she got up to sing. It was as if she was no longer herself, which made her able to do things she ordinarily wouldn't...like singing in front of a crowd of strangers.

She held the mic in one hand and allowed the other to hang loosely at her side.

Her eyelids became heavy, her lips were luscious and full, and her body swayed provocatively in time with the song. She opened her mouth and gave her vocal chords free reign. 

"I wish that I could stay," she sang with feeling.

The chords and notes flowed from Wynston expertly as she performed. She gripped the mic stand, moved her hips and made love to the song. 

She really began to groove when she heard the backup singers chime in, their harmony flawless.

The trill of Wynston's alto flowed over the audience smoothly, her pitch perfect. Her vibrato was easy and natural as it glittered at the end of each note. She was in control and riding the waves of her craft.

As Wynston sang from her diaphragm, she sustained high notes and dug deep for low ones. She let go completely, adlibbing and wooing the crowd with her strong, sultry voice.

She continued to dance, her hands on her full hips while they undulated flirtatiously. She could feel the pound of the drums and the strum of the bass guitar deep in her chest. 

Wynston reached out her hand to Eric as she sang to him from the bottom of her soul; always to Eric where she directed her affection.

When the song wound down and whispered to an end, there was a brief pause. Once her own alter-ego drifted back to sleep, sated, Wynston stood in front of the crowd as if she had been startled awake.

The crowd erupted, shaking the rafters. Their applause and cheers were deafening. The previous contestants had all gotten up and bowed to her as if to say, "We're not worthy."

Even the owner, servers and some of the chefs had stuck their head out to see who the voice was coming from.

Laughing, Wynston shyly thanked everyone and made to leave the stage, but was intercepted by the emcee.

As he tried to quiet the crowd, he announced that there was no question who the winner was. He presented her with a crisp, new $100 bill amid more cheers and applause.

Before leaving the stage, Wynston turned toward the band and backup singers, thanking them. They had deserved an ovation.

Back at the table, Eric was obviously extremely proud. "That's right, this is my woman," he was saying.

Everyone at her table gushed over Wynston, making her blush.

"Where the hell did all that come from?!" Bo asked.

"She has a gift; that's where," Lacey said.

As the evening went on, the quartet ate and laughed. Lacey and Bo teased Eric over the lapdog look he wore the entire time Wynston had sung to him.

Even more surprisingly, the owner of the restaurant walked over and sang Wynston's praises. He told them that after a performance like that, there was no way they would charge them. So their meal had been on the house.

It was a perfect ending to a perfect evening.

Once at home, in Eric's room, he and Wynston undressed each other. Their love-making was slow and languid. After bringing Wynston to a shattering orgasm, Eric erupted inside of her, the intensity of his release surprising him.

He bit back the words he wanted to say so badly. 

He knew he had come to love her...he was in love with her, maybe from the first moment he laid eyes on her. 

But none of it made sense to him. It defied logic, and it was too soon. 

So he swallowed back the words and instead kissed Wynston with everything in him. 

He hoped the way he felt translated in the kiss. Looking down at her, he flexed his chest. 

Wynston was sound asleep.

"That's right," Eric said arrogantly and rolled off of her. He pulled the covers over them and drew Wynston into his arms. Kissing her temples, his thoughts plagued him.

He wanted her, Eric knew that much; but he wasn't sure how he should proceed. He was well aware that the life they were living was a secluded, unrealistic one. 

He had a career; she had a life and child of her own.

Where would they mesh in all this? When they got back to Baltimore, would they date? Would they move in together? 

"Shit," Eric muttered. What the fuck was he doing?

For the first time in his life, Eric was unsure of himself when it came to a woman. 

He didn't even know how Wynston felt about him. Did she love him the way he loved her? Would she want to continue their relationship once they got back to Baltimore?

Then his thoughts turned to Terrence. Eric had wanted to find a way to bring the child to South Carolina, but the fact was it was too risky. What if Rob or the others came after him? He couldn't risk putting the boy in danger that way.

Eric looked at the clock. It was a little after midnight. 

Sleep eluded him and he needed to think, so he gently disentangled himself from Wynston, threw on some clothes and went downstairs to the garage. 

Absently, he reached into one of his tool boxes and pulled out the small, velvet ring box. Opening it, he gazed at the platinum diamond ring he had bought only a few days ago. It had cost him a small fortune, but Wynston was worth it.

He had no idea when he would pop the question...if he would do it. He hadn't even told Bo that he'd bought the ring.

Eric only knew he was scared to death of rejection. He didn't have any answers about anything; this was a foreign sensation he was experiencing. 

Hopefully, while he built something, he would be able to work through at least some of his demons.

***

It was Friday afternoon, and as Wynston placed the last batch of cupcakes in the oven, she breathed a sigh of relief. She had baked 200 cupcakes in one day...if she wasn't bad ass, she didn't know who was.

She and Eric had been in South Carolina for two months, now; and Wynston had been making a killing with her baked goods. It had all started one night a month ago when she had invited Bo and Lacey over for dinner.




Perfume Ch. 07



Wynston knew how difficult it was to cook – or do much of anything – while pregnant. So she had lured Lacey over with the promise of a feast.

To her surprise, Eric had volunteered to do the cooking. 

At first, Wynston thought he was joking, but when he had gone to the market and come back with bags of fresh seafood, meat and produce, she knew they were in for a treat.

Eric had cooked them a 3-course meal, Puerto Rican-style. He'd started with empanadillas which were little pastries with lobster inside. They had been delicious.

He had called the second dish an asopao de pollo with tostones which was basically a sort of gumbo made with meat, and green and chile peppers.

The final dish was called arroz con chorizo y garbonzos, a traditional Puerto Rican rice with Spanish sausage and chick peas.

The food had been heavenly, and they all had been impressed...especially the pregnant Lacey, who had taken to eating as a favorite past time. 

After dinner, the four sat around playing Spades. When Lacey had gone into the kitchen for water, she spied the triple layer chocolate cake Wynston had made.

"Oohhhh, please tell me you made this for tonight, Hughes!" Lacey had begged. 

"Yes, I did. Sit down and I'll cut you a slice," Wynston said.

She hadn't thought she would be able to eat another bite of food, but oddly enough, the cake did begin to look irresistible.

When Wynston cut hefty wedges for everyone, she was taken aback by how the trio went bananas over the cake.

Lacey had asked if it was Pillsbury or Duncan Hines; and when Wynston informed her that it was her own family recipe, Lacey had almost lost it.

"Seriously, dude...why aren't you selling this? Do you know how much money we could be making?!"

Wynston had smiled over Lacey's use of "we." The two of them had become very close during the past couple of months.

"She's right, baby, this is some good stuff. I think if we put the word out, people will be knocking on your door to place orders. It will give you something to do," Eric had said meaningfully. 

Wynston smiled. 

He was referring to the fact that she had been going stark raving mad in the house. She was used to working for a living. True, in the beginning it had been nice to lounge around during the day; but soon, that had gotten old. 

Wynston had delved into decorating the house and making it more welcoming; but that hadn't taken long at all.

So she had given Bo and Lacey the go ahead to spread the word. She didn't really believe anything would come of it anyway. Just a couple orders here and there...nothing too big.

Well, she had been wrong. 

When the sheriff and his wife spoke, people listened; and before Wynston knew it, she was taking orders for birthday parties, luncheons, charity events, everything.

And after everybody had actually tasted her cakes, even more orders started coming in.

Today had been her biggest order yet. Juliette Browning was a wealthy woman, and was throwing an over-the-top bash for her 5-year-old daughter. Mrs. Browning had ordered cupcakes in every girlie color and flavor of the rainbow.

Wynston had had to do extensive research to get the coloring and decorations just right; but she had done it. This had been the easiest $500 she'd ever made.

She walked over to the fridge and carefully opened it. Terrence's drawings and a letter from her mother had come on a weekly basis. She'd stuck them on the refrigerator the same way she would've at home.

She and Eric always had to be super careful when opening the fridge or freezer door. 

One wrong move and the mountain of papers would all go sliding to the floor...she really needed to do something about that.

Wynston rewarded herself with her favorite snack. As she pulled out a jar of Mezzetta pepperoncini, the phone rang...it was Lacey.

"What's up, girl? Did you finish that big ass order yet?" she asked.

"Yeah, just about. I just put the last batch in the oven. Thank you so much for spreading the word about my cakes. I owe you and Bo a lot." 

"Girl, we are not hearing that. You're the one with the goods. We just thought people should know; consider it free advertisement. But listen, I called to see if you guys wanna go to the movies tonight. It'll be good for you to put your feet up after working so hard," Lacey said.

"Okay. I think I just heard Eric pull up. I'll ask him and then I'll call you right back." 

As Wynston hung up the phone, Eric walked in with several large cake boxes. He was going with her to deliver the cupcakes when they were done.

"Eric!" Wynston exclaimed.

He smiled his beautiful smile at her silliness. "What it do, baby?" he asked tiredly, receiving her kiss.

Eric had begun to go mad from staying home the same way Wynston had, so he decided to do something about it. 

Much to Wynston's surprise, she found out that Eric's family had made most of the furniture in the house. 

She was astounded when he told her he had designed and built the bed in his room along with the two nightstands and armoire. It was a skill that his uncle had passed down to him.

So Eric had begun the process of converting the garage into a workshop. He spent his days creating designs and then executing them. He practically lived at Lowe's and any other hardware store that was nearby.

Wynston had to admit that Eric was good at what he did. He had shown her his designs, and they were all intricate and beautifully thought out. When he showed her the finished product of some of his pieces, she had gone ballistic over them in the same manner he had gone crazy over her cakes.

Right now, Eric had six pieces that he could charge an arm and leg for. There were two rocking chairs, a huge chest of drawers, a coffee table and two matching end tables. 

He had used nothing but expensive cherry wood thereby elevating the quality. 

Wynston was very proud of him.

They would be going to the flea market on Saturday to see if they could attract buyers. Wynston was very excited...she wanted Eric to succeed so badly.

"Lacey invited us to go to the movies tonight," she said. "You up for it?"

"Yes!" Eric said immediately. He was tired and needed to get out and have a good time.

"Ok, cool. I'll call her and let her know. How was your day?" she asked, the concern evident in her voice.

She had immediately noticed how tired Eric looked.

He sighed as he rummaged through the candy Wynston had bought the day he'd shown her around Summerville for the first time. She'd also bought a huge glass jar for the candies. 

Even though Eric had talked a lot of smack, he was mainly the one who indulged.

It amused Wynston every time she saw him in the jar. 

"I'm beat," he said. "The hardware store lost my order...that took two hours to get straightened out. Lacey's rocking chair isn't coming together the way I wanted...it's just been one of those days."

Wynston felt terrible. She had pestered him about cake boxes and he'd had his own problems.

"I'm sorry. Anything I can do?" she asked as she wrapped her arms around his waist.

"Kiss me," he said.

Wynston happily obliged just as the timer went off. She reluctantly broke the kiss to take the cupcakes out of the oven.

"So you got them all done, huh?" he asked. 

Eric surveyed the kitchen. There were chocolate cupcakes, vanilla, lemon, and yellow. The frosting ranged in color from pink to yellow to white to purple. The decorations on each one was unique. 

Some had butterfly rings on them while others had chocolate shavings. Over half had two or more colors, and there were sprinkles, candies, edible flowers...more things than Eric had thought possible. 

"Yup! This is the last batch," she said cheerfully.

"I'm proud of you, Hughes. I knew you could pull it off."

Wynston turned to look at Eric and was shocked at how he looked. That quick minute, his eyes had turned bloodshot and he looked as if he hadn't slept in days.

Her brows furrowed with concern. "Have you seen the way you look? Are you coming down with something?" she asked.

Wynston went to feel Eric's forehead, but found that it was a normal temperature. 

She looked at the clock and did some quick math. It was almost 4 o'clock. She didn't have to deliver the cupcakes until 5:30. That would give Eric at least an hour to take a nap.

"I think you should go lie down for a few. The cupcakes need to cool before I can frost them, so it'll be a while before I deliver them," she said.

"Yeah, I think I will take a nap...just for an hour. Make sure you wake me so I can take you," he said kissing her on the cheek. He was already yawning as he turned and dragged himself upstairs.

"Poor baby," Wynston said to herself. She returned her attention to finishing the cupcakes.

***

The clock read 4:55 p.m., and Wynston was placing the last of the cupcakes in their box. 

"Suh-weet!" she sang. She was done and with time to spare!

Standing back to eye her handiwork, Wynston looked over everything once more and compared the cupcakes to the order form she had drafted for Mrs. Browning. 

Everything was spot on. 

She made her way up the stairs to Eric's room and was met with darkness. He had closed the blinds and curtains and was lying on his back, his arm thrown over his face. 

He must really be exhausted, Wynston thought. 

Eric had been working late at night on the furniture. Sometimes he didn't come to bed until well after she was asleep. But he always, always woke her to make love to her before he crashed.

Wynston's stomach fluttered as she thought about their love-making. It was exactly that. It had changed somehow, becoming less raw and more...loving, tender.

Eric had begun to hold her closely more and even whispered soft, beautiful things in her ear. If possible, he touched her more often during the day, too. 

Wynston had always been a touchy person, and didn't like to be hugged unless it was someone she knew or was comfortable with. But she had always welcomed Eric's touch and never once did she get tired of it...or him.

As she sat on the bed and watched his chest move up and down slowly with his even breathing, she admitted to herself that she was falling in love with him...and that worried her.

They had only known each other for a short time, so Wynston didn't know if it was possible to feel so strongly about Eric so soon. 

What if their relationship fizzled? What if these feelings had developed simply because of circumstances?

Wynston didn't want to think about life without him, though. He was such a big part of it.

Sighing, she crawled onto the bed and kissed his soft, full lips. She rested her head on his chest. "Sweetie, it's been an hour," she said quietly.

Snoring.

Wynston smiled and tried again. "Eric, it's time to wake up," she said a little louder.

More snoring.

He was obviously tired because he never snored. She didn't have the heart to wake him just to chauffeur her around. Wynston knew where Mrs. Browning lived and was completely capable of making the short drive to the house.

She pecked Eric once more on the lips and quietly left the room.

***

As Wynston loaded the last box into the truck, she touched the other boxes to make sure they were cool. She had cranked up the air full blast so that the icing didn't melt. 

She would die if she delivered a sloppy mess.

Wynston carefully pulled out of the driveway and made her way slowly toward Mrs. Browning's immaculate three-story home. 

When she pulled up 10 minutes later, it was to find that Mrs. Browning had not spared any expense. The country-style, grand cottage was decorated with everything "Princess" with pinks, whites, lavenders and yellows all over the place.

There were more balloons than Wynston could count, and she could see the tops of several Inflatables billowing in the back yard. 

"Cupcakes are here!" yelled a small voice. It was Aubrey Browning; and before Wynston knew it, she was being rushed by five and six-year-olds.

"Let us help you with those before you're attacked," Mrs. Browning said as she and her husband grabbed boxes from Wynston.

When they walked to the backyard, Wynston's jaw dropped in amazement. The Brownings definitely knew how to throw a party.

Up close, the three Inflatables were huge. There was a Princess Castle jumper, a slide and a rock climber.

Face-painting stations were set up and there were round tables and chairs set up for the guests to sit.

Live Oaks were all over the place, and they had pink, white and yellow ribbons dangling from the branches.

The wind blew gently, making the ribbons in the trees dance merrily.

The trees lent their shade to caterers and servers as they bustled to and from six or seven tables decorated with pretty, pink and white tablecloths. Each table was heavy-laden with food. 

There was even a table set up just for Wynston's cupcakes, which made her feel important...and scared.

As she and Mrs. Browning opened the boxes, Wynston silently breathed a sigh of relief. All the cupcakes and their icing were intact; and they were beautiful.

"Oh, my, Wynston. You've really outdone yourself!" Mrs. Browning gushed. "I know people who've owned bakeries for years who don't do such a wonderful job."

Wynston blushed. "Thank you so much, Mrs. Browning."

"Mommy, can we eat my cupcakes now?!" Little Aubrey asked.

"Not yet, darling. Remember what Mommy told you...we have to eat first. The cupcakes will be last," Mrs. Browning told the little girl.

Aubrey's face dropped.

"If you can wait until later, I made you something extra special, Aubrey. But you have to wait until Mommy says it's okay," Wynston said.

"What is it, Ms. Wynston??" Aubrey asked, barely containing her excitement.

Wynston looked inside one of the cupcake boxes and removed a smaller box, handing it to the little girl.

"This one is extra special because it's just for you. There's not another one in the whole world like it," Wynston whispered to the awed child.

Aubrey slowly opened the box to reveal a large cupcake that was made to look like an ice cream sundae. 

Wynston had coated the cupcake with pink frosting, which served as the "strawberry ice cream." Then she had intricately piped chocolate frosting on top to look like chocolate syrup. 

What followed was a dollop of vanilla frosting (the whipped cream), a Maraschino cherry, and Wynston had even stuck a triangle of a waffle cone on the cupcake, completing the look.

All the children oohed and ahhed, making Aubrey feel like a very special little girl.

"Thank you, Ms. Wynston!" she squealed, and wrapped her arms around Wynston's legs.

"You're welcome, Aubrey," she said, hugging the little girl back.

With that, Aubrey begged her mom to keep her special cupcake safe and ran off to play. 

"That was very sweet of you, Wynston," Mrs. Browning said. "I have an engagement a month from now and I can use a few of your cakes there. I'll be in touch soon with the details."

As Mrs. Browning handed Wynston an envelope, she thanked her again, saying she added a small tip for delivery.

Wynston walked back to the truck, trying hard not to scream with delight. When she got inside, she opened the envelope to find that the "small tip" was an extra $100.

This time, she did scream.

***

On impulse, Wynston decided to stop by the hair salon to see if someone could fit her in for a trim. She lucked out.

A young girl who looked to be in her 20's had a cancellation and could do Wynston's dry cut. Her name was Tara.

When Wynston asked Tara to just trim the whole thing, Tara informed her that she wanted to try another look on her. If Wynston didn't like it, Tara would cut it as Wynston had asked.

"Go for it," Wynston said.

Much to her surprise, Tara's idea had worked. Wynston's bangs had grown long since being in South Carolina. She had intended to snip it off, but Tara left it long, cutting the rest of the hair short.

The hair in front now had a wide part and swooped over Wynston's eye, giving her a new, dramatic look. She liked it.

"Whoa. I'd have never thought to do that," Wynston said, admiring her new 'do. "You're hired," she said. I think you'll be seeing me fairly often."

Wynston tipped Tara and took a business card. As she left the salon, she couldn't help walking in that way women do when their hair is newly done and they are feeling themselves.

Yup...she was definitely feeling herself, she thought with a small smile.

Next, she stopped by the candy shop and re-upped on Eric's favorite Boston Baked Beans.

On the way home, she sat at a traffic light where a boutique for plus sizes caught her eye. There was a coral dress in the window that made her drool. 

Wynston whipped the truck into a parking space in front of the boutique and sprinted inside. 

When Wynston left the boutique, she had the coral, dress in tow. It had reminded her of a "Marilyn" Ruched Convertible dress she had seen on the Monif C. website.

But that dress had been over $200 and had been way out of Wynston's budget. This dress, however, was only $50 and it had looked gorgeous on her. 

As she hung the dress on the hook in the backseat of the truck, she closed the door and was stunned to be staring in Detective Mowry's face.

"Detective," she began, but trailed off when he put his finger to his lips.

"Follow me, Ms. Hughes-Grey," he said.

Wynston immediately followed the detective, fearing the worst. What was he doing here in South Carolina? Was it bad news?

Detective Mowry led her between two buildings not far from the loading docks. "How have you been, Ms. Hughes-Grey?" he asked.

"I've been managing," Wynston said nervously. Please don't let there be bad news, she thought.

"Mr. Torres taking good care of you?"

She paused. The detective had sounded rather snide...or was it her imagination?

"Uh, yes, Eric is-we're both making the best of the situation," she said finally.

Detective Mowry eyed her. Suddenly, he lifted his hand and gently drew his finger alongside her cheek. When the finger made its way across her lips, Wynston took a step back.

"Detective was there something you needed to tell me?" she asked.

"No," he said huskily. "I just wanted to see you, make sure you're alright." He was walking closer to her.

"Oh, well, I'm fine...WE'RE fine," she stressed. "So if you don't mind—"

But before Wynston could finish, Detective Mowry had grabbed her, wrapping his arms around her waist. He forced his cool, wet lips onto hers, making Wynston recoil.

She pushed against him and tried to twist her face away, but he was too strong. The more she fought, the rougher he got as he smashed their lips together and squeezed her breasts.

Wynston managed to break her hands free enough to scratch him along the sides of his face. 

Detective Mowry broke the kiss, and backhanded her. Wrenching her hand down to his crotch, he pressed it against his erection. 

"See what you do to me? All that is for you and you're fighting me?!" he yelled. 

When Wynston tried to jerk her hand away, the detective shook her. "You let that motherfucker dig up in it, but you won't give me a small fucking taste?!"

If Wynston didn't get away from him soon, she would throw up all over him...that was a fact. She was disgusted and petrified.

They were basically in an alley, nobody knew she was back there, and Eric was at home.

As the detective slipped his hands under her shirt, Wynston frantically thought what she could do. 

She couldn't kick him as she was wearing flip-flops; and she couldn't shake free to hit him. She thought of the only defense women really had against a stronger foe. 

Here goes, she thought. 

Wynston kneed the detective in the privates and was so relieved when he let her go to bend over in pain.

She hauled ass as fast as her heavy breasts allowed.




Perfume Ch. 07



When she rounded the corner of the building, she ran smack into Bo.

He reached out to grab her before she hit the ground, but Wynston was hysterical.

"Hughes—Wynston, it's me," he said as she fought him. Bo did his best to restrain her.

When his voice registered, Wynston stopped fighting and fell against Bo, dissolving into tears.

"What the fuck happened?!" he demanded.

"He--he...was kissing me! I—oh, God, Bo...he was going to rape me!" Wynston sobbed.

"WHAT?!" he roared, grabbing her hand.

Bo proceeded in the direction Wynston had come flying from; but when he looked down the alley, there was no one there.

He grabbed his radio and was about to speak into it when Wynston stopped him.

"Please, Bo. Don't make a big deal out of it. I'm okay now. I just want to go home," she said.

"Hughes, there's a man out here who hurt you. Look at your fucking face!" he growled, taking in her appearance. Her mouth was bruised and her cheek was swollen where the asshole had obviously hit her; and her clothes were torn.

"What if he tries to hurt somebody else but she's not lucky enough to get away like you did?!"

"Bo, I know, okay. But...it's not going to happen to anybody else. It's just me," she whispered.

Closing her eyes, Wynston felt sick.

"What the hell does that mean?" Bo demanded.

"It means I know the guy." Wynston watched as Bo put his hands on his hips and waited for her to finish.

When she didn't say anymore, he got even more pissed.

Taking a deep breath, Bo tried to calm himself, but the muscle in his jaw continued to jump.

"Wynston...who was it?" he asked quietly.

"I can't say," she whispered.

Bo took another deep breath and let it out. "Why not?"

"Because it will complicate things even more. Eric will kill him," Wynston said.

"Fuck! Was it Rob?!" Bo was nearly shouting.

"No, no...are you crazy? I wouldn't withhold something like that!" she wailed.

"The question is, are YOU crazy?! You shouldn't be withholding this information no matter who the fuck it is! Damn this...I'm taking you in for questioning," Bo said.

"Bo Warren, don't you put your damn hands on me. Listen! It was Detective Mowry!" she blurted.

Bo closed his eyes. "Shit! Eric's going to fuck him up...I'M gonna fuck him up!" 

Wynston sighed, not knowing what to do. Of course she should tell Eric, but to what end? Eric seriously was going to kill the detective when he got wind of this. 

He had gone ballistic on Rob for only saying foul things about her at the bank...and they hadn't even known each other then. What would he do when he learned that the detective had actually put his hands on her?

"Shit!" she groaned. "This is bad, Bo. If Eric finds out I know he's going to do something crazy."

"What do you mean 'if' he finds out? We're going to the house to tell him right now," Bo said. "Get in the truck, Hughes. I'll follow you home."

His tone brooked no argument.

Defeated, Wynston walked to the truck and got in. As she backed out of the parking space, she once again thought how life changed drastically from one moment to the next. 

One second she was on a high from selling her cupcakes.

The next, she was being mauled by Detective Mowry. She was getting damned tired of other people being in such control of her life.

***

As Wynston and Bo pulled into the driveway, Eric got up from where he sat on the porch. He looked rested...and not too friendly.

Before Wynston could open the door, Eric did it for her. "Where have you been, Wynston?" he asked, censure laced all throughout his deep voice.

Damn it, Wynston thought. She was going to get it. 

She had left without telling Eric AND had gotten pawed by Detective Mowry? No, it wasn't looking good for her at all.

"I went to deliver the cupcakes," she said quietly.

"Right. I gathered that much. But didn't I ask you to wake me in an hour so I could take you?" he asked. His voice was deceptively quiet, conversational even.

Wynston shifted. She couldn't believe this man had her squirming like she was 10-years-old again. She was a grown woman, damn it!

"Look, Eric, you were asleep, okay? I tried to wake you, but after I couldn't, I decided to let you sleep," she said defensively.

"Wynston, I want you safe. When I ask you to wake me in an hour, I mean it," he said calmly. She could tell it was an effort...and he didn't even know the worst part yet!

Eric turned his attention to his best friend. "Thank you for looking after her. She gave me the slip."

Bo walked to stand beside the two. "Actually, that's not why I'm here. I found her running for her life out of an alley."

Wynston shot Bo a dirty look. Did he have to make it sound so bad?

Eric froze. 

He finally took in Wynston's appearance. He had been so angry with her for leaving without him – and for having been gone so long – that he failed to realize that her hair was different, her face was bruised, and her clothes were torn.

He was scowling.

"What the fuck happened?" he stormed.

Bo looked at Wynston pointedly.

"I – somebody approached me in an alleyway," she grumbled.

"What do you mean, 'approached?'" Eric asked. "And what were you doing in a goddamn alley??"

He was slowly losing it.

Wynston took a deep breath and got it over with. 

"Detective Mowry came up to me when I was leaving the boutique. He asked me to come with him so I followed him to an alley thinking he had news for me. But he didn't. He kissed me and hit me when I fought him. I believe he would've done more if I hadn't kicked him in the balls and ran. There. That's what happened," Wynston finished.

The entire time she spoke, she had looked down at the ground. When Eric didn't say anything, she looked up timidly.

What she saw made her remember the first day she and Eric had met. Wynston had known that he had a dark side and could be dangerous when he wanted.

Now was one of those times.

Eric was livid. He was breathing rapidly and a long vein ran down the middle of his forehead. His normally laughing, golden eyes were closer to green. It was like he was about to combust.

"Bo!" she said, alarmed.

"Where is he?" Eric growled.

"My deputies tracked him down at a hotel not far away. But Eric, you can't go there. We have to do this the right way," Bo said.

Eric obviously wasn't hearing that.

Wynston folded her arms; her expression said "I told you so." This was exactly why she didn't want to tell Eric.

"What hotel is it?" Eric asked. His voice was barely above a whisper.

Bo sighed. He knew his friend. Eric would try to kill Detective Mowry if he told where the asshole was.

Instead, he tried to divert Eric's attention. "Hughes, do you think you got any of the detective's DNA on you anywhere? Anything that might help us?" he asked.

Wynston thought for a moment. "I scratched him! Shouldn't that help?"

"Good enough, let's go to the station where we can do this by following the LAW," he stressed.

Eric just stood there seething.

Wynston and Eric got in the backseat of Bo's truck. Eric gently nudged Wynston's face upward so he could inspect the damage.

Eric swore to himself that he would get Mowry back. 

"I know you," Wynston said softly as she looked up at Eric. "You're going to beat yourself up over this. But nothing was your fault."

Eric smiled grimly. She was right; he was beating himself up over it. What if she hadn't gotten away? What if that sick bastard had raped her?

He couldn't bear the thought. He turned away and gazed out the window.

Just then, Bo turned on his radio and asked about Detective Mowry's whereabouts. One of his deputies responded that the detective was still at La Hacienda Hotel. Bo then instructed the deputy to tail him until Bo gave further notice.

Eric and Bo's eyes met in the rearview mirror. Eric nodded his thanks, acknowledging what Bo had done for him. Bo nodded back. As soon as they got Wynston situated, he and Eric would pay Detective Mowry a little visit.

Once at the station, Bo had a female officer discreetly take Wynston into a room to collect DNA from her fingernails and body. The officer also took photographs of her injuries. When they were done, Wynston was asked to recount everything that happened. 

While she was being taken care of, Bo and Eric talked about their plan of action. 

"Look, I'm the sheriff here, and I believe in abiding by the law. I'm only doing this because it's you. Once we get to the hotel, I'm giving you five minutes to fuck him up, and then I'm coming in after you. Don't even think about trying to kill him," Bo said.

"Then you'd better make sure you get there in time," Eric replied.

Bo understood completely. If it had been Lacey who Mowry had hurt, he probably would've tried to kill the asshole, too.

A few hours later, Eric and Wynston were free to leave the station.

When they got back home, Wynston went straight upstairs and into the bathroom. She ran the hottest bubble bath she could stand. When she had peeled off her clothes, she looked in the mirror and gasped at her reflection.

The right side of her face had swollen where Detective Mowry had hit her. Wynston's lips were still slightly bruised as well. But they looked worse than they really were.

She sighed. She'd seen more violence in the last few months than she'd seen in her whole life. Wynston didn't know that people actually lived like this.

Eyeballing her hair, she combed it and turned her head to the left and then to the right. She decided that it definitely still looked cute.

Wynston eased herself into the bathtub. She was giving herself time to adjust to the hot water when Eric knocked on the door.

"Come in," she said quietly.

Reclining backward, Wynston watched as he opened the door and looked at her.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Eh," she replied, shrugging her shoulders.

Eric grabbed the stool and sat down beside the tub. He idly dragged his hands through the soap suds, his demeanor quiet and contemplative.

"I never got to ask you how things went over at Mrs. Browning's," he said.

Wynston smiled, remembering the pleasure she had felt earlier from the success of her cupcakes. 

"They loved them. Aubrey went crazy over her special cupcake; and guess what. Mrs. Browning gave me a $100 tip," she said.

"What?!" Eric said. "Damn, I'm in the wrong business!"

"That's not all. She's going to place another order for a few cakes in a month. Some event she was talking about. I'm super stoked!"

"I'm proud of you, gorgeous. I knew you could do it. Have you thought about opening up a bakery?" he asked.

Wynston actually had. She wanted more than anything to bake full-time. But she didn't have the means. For some reason, she couldn't see herself baking in Baltimore, either.

"Yeah, I thought about it, but it's kind of a pipe dream," she said.

"We can make it happen...you've got the goods," Eric answered.

"I know. We'll see," Wynston said. 

A sadness came over her. She didn't want to think about going back to Baltimore. Wynston had assimilated to life in South Carolina. All she needed was Terrence and things would be perfect.

She pushed the thought from her mind. A life here with Eric was also a pipe dream.

"You look better than you did earlier. Did you get enough rest?" Wynston asked.

"Yeah, I did. But at your expense," Eric answered somberly.

Before Wynston could say anything, he instructed her to sit up. "I'm going to bathe you," he explained. "I'm going to towel you dry; I'm going to lotion you from top to bottom, then I'm going to make love to you."

"Wow, I need to get beat down all the time if this is the result," Wynston quipped.

Eric didn't crack a smile.

"Too soon?" she asked.

"Too soon," he said.

Eric grabbed Wynston's bath sponge and gently washed her face. He took extreme care with her bruise.

"Stand up," he commanded.

Wynston's wet, glistening body immediately gave Eric a hard-on, but he tamped down the urge to fuck her hard and fast. This was about her.

He poured her sweet-smelling liquid soap onto the sponge and gently scrubbed every inch of her body.

Wynston blushed when he poured her feminine soap on a wash cloth and cleansed her privates. She felt like a little girl.

After Eric rinsed her and let the water out of the tub, he had a towel waiting for her. As promised, he dried her and had her lay on her stomach while he moisturized her from head to toe.

Wynston was in heaven. Eric massaged her body, working through the kinks and knots. He then had her roll onto her back so he could lotion her front. 

His hands lingered on her full breasts as they became aroused under his care.

Eric began kissing a path down her body, making Wynston moan at the tender way he touched her.

While he continued to fondle her, Wynston reached up, unzipped his jeans and pulled out his thick, long cock.

It was already pulsating and veiny.

Wynston sat up and gently coaxed Eric upward so she could take his dick into her mouth.

She loved the way he tasted. He was always very clean and was rarely salty except for his pre-ejaculate. She ran her hands up his abs pushing his shirt out of the way. Taking her hint, Eric took it off.

Her hands roamed the length of his body as his hips flexed, pumping his member in and out of Wynston's mouth.

She allowed him to slip from her mouth and replaced her warm, wet tongue with her fist. She took each of his balls into her mouth while simultaneously jacking his shaft with her small hand.

Wynston stifled a giggle. Eric was moaning especially loudly tonight. 

Work it, girl, she thought smugly.

She took his manhood into her mouth once more, deep-throating him. When Eric's cock began to swell and his breathing became feverish, Wynston pumped her head faster.

"Sweetheart," Eric exclaimed in an apology. Before he could say anymore, his seed spilled forth, filling Wynston's mouth to overflowing.

Eric stood over her, his dick continued to jump as he allowed every drop of his cum to leak out of him.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. I'll make it up to you," Eric said.

Wynston kissed his belly and made her way up his body. "You don't have to apologize for anything that happens between us. I like giving you pleasure, Eric," she said earnestly.

Eric kissed her deeply and disrobed completely. Now that he was sated, he could focus on Wynston entirely. And that's exactly what he did. 

This time, it was Eric who smiled smugly. He was sure the entire neighborhood could hear Wynston's cries of passion.

When they were satiated, Eric went to the kitchen and rounded up a small feast while Wynston picked a movie for them to watch in his room. 

He made them club sandwiches and grabbed the chips, a couple bottles of juice and a bag of chocolate chip cookies. He was sure to include several pepperoncini on Wynston's plate; she ate them with everything. 

The two watched "300" while they ate. After the food was gone, they dozed off, leaving the TV on. 

They were exhausted. It had been a long, trying day.

***

Wynston awoke in the middle of the night to sharp cramping. 

"Damn it," she mumbled.

She lay in Eric's bed for a moment, making a mental assessment of the damage. Her period was definitely on...and it was going to be a bad one.

Wynston got out of the bed and made sure she hadn't made a mess in Eric's bed. On her way out, she turned the TV and DVD player off and walked gingerly to her own bathroom.

She fished out her supply of Always, still hoping she had been mistaken. 

No such luck.

When she finished up in the bathroom, Wynston got into her own bed. There was no way she was going to sleep with Eric like this. It was embarrassing.

She turned on the lamp and opened her nightstand drawer and took out the brown, paper bag. She had gotten a few months' supply of birth control pills before coming to South Carolina. But she hadn't taken any of them.

She hadn't pushed the issue with Eric because she didn't need to...well, except for the obvious reasons of protection from STDs, but that ship had long sailed.

Wynston admitted to herself that it had been extremely irresponsible of her not to insist that Eric at least wear a condom.

As for asking him to wear one to prevent a pregnancy...she now knew with a certainty that it wasn't necessary.

Her OB/GYN had told her she couldn't have any more children; and the fact that she had gotten her period proved that.

Downtrodden, Wynston turned off the lamp and drifted to sleep.

***

She awoke again to more cramps. She felt the familiar heaviness in her lower abdominal area and lower back. 

Rocking back and forth, Wynston choked back tears.

She hated her periods with a passion; and she was freezing. But she knew she just had to make it through the first night; then things would get better.

Just when she thought things couldn't get any worse, she heard Eric come into the room.

"What are you doing in here?" he asked.

"Nothing," Wynston mumbled. "I just...please, just let me sleep here tonight. I'm okay."

Of course Eric wasn't doing anything of the sort. "What's the matter? Are you sick?"

Silence.

"Wynston, I can't help if you don't talk to me. What's the matter?" he asked.

"Eric, please. I just need to sleep in here," she moaned. Her voice was muffled because she was hidden under a mound of covers.

He was losing his patience. 

Damn, but she could be stubborn. Wynston made him want to strangle her sometimes. He just wanted to wrap his hands around her neck and...

"Okay, fine. I'll sleep in here, then," he said.

"ERIC!!! It's my period, okay? I'm embarrassed. Just please let me be miserable in peace!" Wynston whined. She resumed rocking back and forth.

Eric left the room, making Wynston cry. She hadn't really wanted him to leave her. She had wanted him to care enough to stay.

"Damn bastard," she said into the dark room.

A few minutes later, Eric returned. She felt him pull the covers back from her body.

"Sit up," he said quietly.

She silently obeyed. He hadn't left her after all!

Eric handed her two Tylenol and a glass of water. When Wynston had swallowed the capsules, he handed her a cup of hot tea.

She was ashamed. "I'm sorry for calling you a damn bastard," she whispered.

Eric raised his brow. "When did you call me a bastard?" 

"A few minutes ago when I thought you'd left me."

"But didn't you ask me to leave?" Eric asked.

"Well yeah, but...you weren't supposed to," she replied.

Eric just shook his head. "Women," he muttered.

When Wynston had drunk most of her tea, he got into bed with her and massaged her lower back. He manipulated her aching muscles for a long time, too.

Under the circumstances, Wynston was in heaven.

Before she knew it, she had drifted off into a comfortable slumber.

***

It was the morning after Detective Mowry had approached Wynston. Now, he ran around his hotel room collecting his belongings. He had to get the fuck out of there before anyone came looking for him. 

He shouldn't have touched Wynston. His intention had only been to watch her the way he normally did; but when he'd seen that she was alone for once, he had acted on impulse.

His dick had immediately gotten hard just from being near her. And her scent...it tormented him. He hadn't meant to lose control that way.

A subtle knock on the door made him pause. He drew his gun out of its holster and walked quietly to the window. Peeking out of the blinds, he saw that it was Mike Torres.

Detective Mowry wrenched open the door, fighting to control is anger. "What the hell are you doing here?!" he groused. "We weren't supposed to meet until later!"

Mike pushed past the detective and walked into the room. Mowry hated this Torres just as much as he hated Eric. Mike was usually unkempt and wasn't pretty like that asshole Eric or Rob for that matter. But the resemblance was definitely there.




Perfume Ch. 07



His hair was low, his eyes hazel, but he was on the portly side and hairy. His jeans were stained and his shirt rumpled. He had the look of a greasy mechanic.

This one was definitely meaner, though. Eric never let on how he felt. 

His brief encounters with Rob had revealed that the man was the leader and was used to being obeyed. He too never showed what he was truly thinking; but under that tight control, Detective Mowry sensed that Rob Torres could be cruel.

"Detective...I'm surprised at you. Is that how you greet your employer?" Mike asked.

"You know damn well you're no employer of mine," the he grumbled.

"That mil in your bank account says differently," Mike said. The threat in his voice was thinly veiled.

Detective Mowry was getting tired of Mike holding that shit over his head.

As Mike took in the suitcase on the bed, he laughed. "So it's true! You're in deep shit, huh?"

"What are you talking about?" Mowry asked warily.

"You're just as good as dead is what I mean. It's all over the place that you tried to maul that woman Eric's with," Mike informed him.

Detective Mowry froze. "How did you know about that??"

"It's called the art of being discreet; you'd be surprised what people say when they think no one's listening. You should try it sometime," Mike replied. 

He looked at all the pictures Mowry had taken of the woman. There had to have been a good thirty or forty pictures of her.

Mike whistled. 

"You really are a sick fuck, aren't you?" he asked as he picked up a picture of the woman standing in front of a mic. It had looked like she had been singing to the photographer.

Mike was willing to bet money that she hadn't even known Mowry had been around. Fucking pervert law enforcement.

"Eric's gonna fuck you up when he finds out you messed with his woman," Mike said idly.

"Look, cut the shit. Why are you here?" Mowry demanded once more.

"Plans have changed. I'm picking up the woman today. If what you say is true, I'll have a better chance of getting this bitch alone during the day."

"Don't call her that," Detective Mowry said.

Mike glared at the detective with his cold eyes. This bastard really didn't know who he was fucking with. It was about time he showed him who Mike Torres was.

He charged at the detective and punched him in the stomach. When the older man bent over, Mike kneed him in the nose, sending Mowry crashing to the floor. 

The detective uttered a string of curses as he nursed his wounds.

"Remember who the FUCK you're talking to, bitch!" Mike yelled as he spit on Mowry.

He snatched up a picture of Eric's bitch and produced a pen. "Now give me the fucking address," he ordered.

When Mowry obediently gave Eric's address, Mike looked down at him and smirked. Next time he'll think twice, he thought.

"I'll call you when I have Eric's BITCH," he spat.

With that, Mike left the room already forgetting about the sorry excuse for a man he left writhing on the floor.

***

When Rob came to, he looked around the dark room not knowing where he was. He was lying on the bed and his head was swimming...he felt nauseous.

As he tried to sit up, he realized he couldn't. Looking up, Rob saw that he wasn't in the villa in Puerto Vallarta. He was in a small, dirty room that smelled like fish.

He pulled at his wrist and discovered that it had been tied to the bedpost. "What the fuck?" he muttered.

Whoever had tied him up had intended for him to get loose. They had only used a scarf that was tied into a knot. As Rob worked the tie, he tried to take in his surroundings and figure out who was behind this.

He worked quietly, not knowing where his captor was.

The last thing he had remembered was Ethan and him driving. That morning, they had been on the way to their contact's private jet...Amsterdam had been their destination.

Ethan had been driving, but all of a sudden he'd pulled off their course, saying he thought they were being followed. The next thing Rob knew, somebody had yanked his door open and a masked face had stepped into his line of vision.

He didn't remember anything after that.

Free from his confines, Rob quietly moved around the room. He had to stop a few times; he was getting dizzy and it seemed as if the room swayed.

He finally saw the piece of paper on the television set in front of the bed. Walking over to the TV, he read the scrawl on the paper: "TURN ON THE TV AND PRESS PLAY."

Rob followed the instructions and was surprised to see Ethan on the video.

"Hello, brother. If you're watching this video, you followed my instructions. Good. I'm sure you have a lot of questions, so let's jump right in, shall we?"

Rob sat down on the bed, a feeling of dread creeping up on him. He listened to Ethan without moving a muscle.

"For a long time now, I've watched you destroy a lot of people's lives. Some of them deserved it, but most didn't. Eric didn't deserve the shit we did to him; and I certainly didn't deserve what you've done to me...I don't know, maybe on some level I did. I'm not innocent in all this, especially since I did all the fucked up things you asked." Ethan paused.

"But I did those things because you're my brother. I loved you and it was my way of showing that I was loyal. But you...you fucked around with people's lives, with MY life and you didn't give a shit!"

Ethan's voice was beginning to rise in anger.

"You screwed every girl I was interested in. You expected total devotion from Mike and me, but you never gave a damn about anybody but yourself. Well, brother, I'm out to rectify at least some of the wrong we've done. I'm out of the business and I'm on my way to living a regular, boring life. It's what I want," he said quietly.

"Right now, you're in a boat in the middle of nowhere. We rendered you unconscious using the aspirin and water solution Lena used at the bank. Oh, and by 'we,' I mean Octavia, Greer and me. Yeah, I didn't kill him. That would've been bogus," he said smiling.

Rob worked his jaw. He was so fucking furious, he could kill something with his bare hands.

"I hope you enjoyed Lena," Ethan was saying. "Because her pussy was very expensive, Roberto. It cost you ten mil." 

Ethan gleefully held up the duffle bag containing Rob's share of the money from the bank heist.

"You know that plan you had to leave Octavia in the villa penniless?" Ethan asked. He let the question hang in the air, sure that Rob would catch his meaning.

"Okay, I've got a plane to catch so I gotta get out of here. I've got one more stop before I ride out into the sunset. Sorry it had to be this way, Rob, but you can't keep living like this. None of us can. You're a savvy guy, and you'll figure a way out. I know it may not seem like it, but I do love you, bro. Take care, and be careful. You're wanted," Ethan said gravely.

The screen faded to blue, but all of a sudden, a news report began to play. Rob's picture was in the upper left hand corner as the news anchor identified him as one of the robbers of the National Bank of Baltimore. 

They began playing footage of Rob and Eric's fight. There, for all the U.S. to see was Eric ripping the mask from Rob's face. The footage froze, showing Rob's image.

"SHIT!" he yelled.

He knew it was bad, but he didn't know it was that bad.

Rob forced himself to calm down and thought. Mike was well on his way to South Carolina to take care of Eric...probably was there by now; so he couldn't rely on any help from there.

He didn't even know if Mike was a part of this little rebellion. Ethan had only mentioned Greer and Octavia, so Rob didn't think Mike was involved.

Greer...he was still alive.

"Fuck!" Rob growled as he snatched the cabin door open.

As he made his way on deck, disgustingly fresh, sea air met him. Ethan had been telling the truth. Rob was on a small boat, floating in the middle of the ocean. 

There was no land in sight.

He dragged his hand over his face, trying desperately to find a way out of this mess; but he couldn't focus. 

Ethan had walked out on him. Rob knew he deserved it. Ethan had said Rob didn't give a damn about anyone but himself.

That wasn't true; but he had gone without a conscience for so long. He failed to take into account Ethan and Mike's feelings. 

Rob hung his head. He had run his baby brother off. All of a sudden, the nausea overtook him and he ran to the side of the boat and emptied his stomach.

When he was finished, he sobbed, hating the person he had become. But Rob didn't know how to change; he didn't know how to find his way back. 

Sinking to his knees, he cried for his mother. He cried for his brothers and all they had been through together. He cried over his father's abandonment. He even wept for the way they had always treated Eric...Eric who had been just a boy going to see his father the day Maria killed herself.

"What do you want from me?" Rob asked weakly as the tears streamed down his face.

"WHAT DO YOU WANT FROM ME??!!" he railed at the open sky. 

As he sat back against the deck, he was broken. His shoulders stooped, his head hung low, he did the only thing he knew. 

Rob prayed. 

"Help me," he said. His voice was barely above a whisper. "I'm so sorry...for everything." 

It was providence who heard him and presented him with a gift. 

When Rob looked up, he saw land in the far, far distance. Straightening, his face broke into a beautiful, but rare smile. He got up and headed toward the helm, turning the boat in the direction of land.

There were a few things he'd had to set to rights. He had been overwhelmed with his iniquities and didn't know how to be a good person.

Well, Rob thought, starting today, he was going to do things differently. And after that, he would just have to take one day at a time.

***

Not too far away, back at the villa, Lena stretched languorously. She got up and bathed, thinking about how she had enjoyed Rob last night. She knew it was messed up of her to sleep with him when she had been sleeping with Ethan.

But Rob was just so damn sexy! She wondered if he wanted to have a little more fun today.

As she dressed and left the room, she found that the house was much quieter than usual...eerily so.

She peeked over the side of the landing...nobody was there.

Shrugging her shoulders, she made her way downstairs and looked in all the rooms. Not a soul was around.

Picking up some fruit, Lena sat at the island in the kitchen wondering what was going on. As she nibbled on a strawberry, she went over every conversation she'd had with Ethan, Mike and Rob. 

She couldn't recall anyone saying anything about going anywhere...not yet anyway.

She and Ethan were supposed to be traveling together, but she guessed that was out the window since she'd slept with Rob.

Then her eyes stretched.

Panicking, Lena ran upstairs to Ethan's room. She opened his closet and checked his chest of drawers...empty.

With dread, she ran to Octavia's room then to Mikes...all empty.

With tears in her eyes, she went to Rob's room and found the same. They had all left her.

She began to cry in earnest now. 

Lena pondered what she should do. Pacing, she tried to calm down. "Breathe, just breathe. You can figure this out," she said.

Then she froze. That meant they had taken her share of the money as well. How the hell was she going to get back home?

Lena knew why this was happening to her. This was Ethan's way of paying her back for hurting him; and this was Rob just being his nasty self. She regretted sleeping with Rob and acknowledged that she had messed up a good thing.

Now she would be stuck in Mexico for a while until she could come up with the money to leave.

She looked at Rob's bed and couldn't help thinking of the things she had allowed him to do to her the night before. She wished she could take back what she'd done.

Lena was alone and scared. Crumbling to the floor, she cried. 

***

Mike sat in his rental car across the street from the house Eric was living in. South Carolina. He never would've guessed. 

He watched as Eric and the county sheriff got ready to leave the house. Eric was saying something to the woman, Wynston and bent to kiss her. He then stood there and watched while she walked into the house.

"Aww isn't that special. Looks like my little bro's in love," Mike said sarcastically. He wandered what it was about her that drove the detective and Eric crazy. She was cute, yes, but he didn't see anything special about her.

It wasn't like she was a Victoria's Secret model...far from it. She was short and fat. 

Whatever, he thought. She would get him what he wanted. Once Mike had her in his clutches, Eric would give him anything in exchange for her.

Patiently, he watched the two men leave. He waited a few more minutes to make sure they didn't come back. Then, Mike got out of the car and inconspicuously made his way across the street.

***

Wynston paced the floor. She could kill Bo right now! She knew they shouldn't have told Eric about Detective Mowry. 

Who was she kidding? She couldn't keep something like that from him.

Wynston sighed. Eric had become her best friend. Keeping that kind of information from him was the equivalent to lying. 

But now Bo and Eric had gone to "take care of something" as they had put it. Eric had kissed her and told her he would be back shortly. He had stood watching while she walked into the house.

She knew he was going to find Detective Mowry. Wynston had begged Eric to let the law handle it, but he wasn't hearing any of that. 

Stupid man-pride.

If only she hadn't gotten into this mess. If only she hadn't stopped at that damned boutique yesterday!

"Ugh!!!" she growled.

Just then, Wynston heard a noise out on the porch. She hadn't heard a car pull up, but she still hoped. Excited, she ran to the door thinking Eric had come back. 

But when she swung the door open, it was to find that no one was there. She looked to the left and then to the right and shrieked when she saw a man standing there.

He rushed her.

Pushing her inside the house, the man followed and closed the door. 

Backing toward the kitchen, Wynston tried her best not to spazz. "W-Which one are you? Mike, correct?" she asked nervously.

She instinctively knew it was one of Eric's brothers. She had seen Rob's face and knew it wasn't him; but the resemblance to both Rob and Eric was there. This man looked too old to be Ethan who was the youngest.

Wynston was scared shitless. 

"That would be Mike," he said grinning wolfishly. 

He looked her up and down. Up close, she was much prettier than Detective Mowry's pictures gave her credit for; and he hadn't really gotten a good look at her in the bank.

Her tits were huge, too...he loved that.

Even though she was bigger than he liked, he'd still fuck her. Maybe he would have a little fun with her while they waited for Eric.

Wynston did not like the way Mike was looking at her.

"What will you do to me?" she asked.

"Nothing...if you behave and listen, you'll be just fine. You're only here as bait," Mike replied.

"What will you do to Eric," she whispered. The anxiety was written all over her face.

"Don't worry your pretty little head about that. Just leave that to us guys," he said coaxingly.

"Now listen, we're going to walk out of here nice and easy. We're going to get in my car and we're going to drive off. I don't want any problems out of you, or I will fucking kill you," Mike said. 

His voice had been gentle as he made his threat, which made it even worse. He pulled out his gun to show her he meant business.

Wynston knew without a doubt that Mike would hurt her. He had cold eyes that were similar in color to Eric's when he was aroused...but the warmth and heat weren't there. 

This dude was a maniac.

She quickly nodded her head in compliance. Wynston wouldn't do anything to set Mike off. She would just watch and wait for an opportunity to run.

Mike opened the door and allowed her to step onto the porch first. To anybody who knew no differently, the two looked like friends or even lovers on an outing.

Nobody knew that Wynston's life was in jeopardy.

***

The drive to La Hacienda Hotel was a quiet one. Bo and Eric were each involved in their own thoughts. 

Bo had put his deputies on standby, telling them he would take over watching Detective Mowry's room. So he and Eric knew that the detective was still at the hotel.

His deputies had also reported that some man had visited Mowry for a few minutes and left. Bo had told them to trail the man and keep their eyes peeled for anything suspicious.

Bo rolled to a stop a distance from Mowry's room. "Five minutes," he said as Eric got out of the truck.

Glancing at his watch, Bo waited until Eric had kicked the door open, then he started timing him.

A few minutes later, Bo's phone rang.

"Sheriff speaking," he answered.

"Yeah boss, we tailed that individual to 123 Musgrove Lane," his deputy informed him.

"Musgrove...wait, that's Eric's address," Bo said with alarm.

"Yes sir. A Hispanic male got out of the car and was allowed inside the house by Ms. Hughes-Grey. They stayed inside for a few minutes and then she left with him."

"What the fuck do you mean she left with him?" Bo roared. "Where are they now?!"

"Uh...we kinda lost them, boss," came the reply.

"SHIT! If anything happens to her, I swear I will fuck you up myself! FIND THEM!" Bo ordered.

He snapped the phone shut and sprinted from the car, up the stairs.

This day was getting more and more fucked up.

***

When Eric kicked in the door to Detective Mowry's hotel room, he found the man in the bathroom tending to a wound. Somebody had gotten to him first. No matter. In this case, Eric was willing to take sloppy seconds.

"What the fuck..." but Mowry didn't get to finish.

Eric lunged at him and caught him with an uppercut to the chin. The detective tried to swing at Eric, but he easily sidestepped him, punching him repeatedly in the stomach.

Eric grabbed Mowry by the collar and the seat of his pants and sent him sailing across the bed. That's when Eric saw all the photos of Wynston.

He nearly exploded with fury.

Detective Mowry tried to reach for his gun, but Eric kicked it out of his hand. Yanking a lamp out of the wall, he brought the base crashing down over Mowry's head.

"YOU LIKE TO GO AROUND HURTING WOMEN?! WHERE THE FUCK ARE YOUR BALLS NOW?! STAND UP AND FIGHT ME LIKE A MAN, MOTHERFUCKER!" Eric thundered.

He was a sight to behold.

To his credit, the detective stayed down. He was very badly injured. Then he did one of the stupidest things he'd ever done in his life.

"You'll never have her," he muttered. "You'll never find her either. He'll get rid of her and you'll never see her again," the detective taunted.

Eric snapped. 

He straddled the detective and starting choking him, wrapping his big, strong hands around Mowry's chubby neck.

"WHAT?! What the fuck did you say to me?!" Eric growled.

But Detective Mowry couldn't say a thing. He was too busy gasping for air.

Just then, Bo came running into the room. "Eric man, we got a problem," he said. 

He looked down at Eric who was trying to do exactly what Bo had said not to. He rushed over to the two men and tried his best to pull Eric's hands from Mowry's neck. 

Moments went by but he couldn't get Eric to budge.

"Shit! Eric, man, I fucking told you not to do this," Bo said, struggling to pull Eric away. 

"Wynston...Wynston's in trouble!" he said breathlessly.

That seemed to do the trick. Eric came out of his craze and slowly removed his hands from the detective. "SHE'S WHAT?!"

"Your brothers," Bo gasped. "Your brothers are here...they have Hughes."

Eric's face lost all color. Anguished, he got up, uttering a string of curse words.




Perfume Ch. 07



"Where is she?!" he cried.

"We don't know yet. My men are on it. C'mon, we gotta go," Bo replied.

"You'll never find her," Detective Mowry said once again. He had been barely audible.

Eric lunged for him again, but Bo held him back. "Tell me what you know, Mowry. That's the least you can do with your pathetic self," Bo snarled.

Detective Mowry only laughed. 

Just then, a cell phone rang. Eric and Bo looked at each other and then looked around the room for the phone. Eric found it first. It was a private caller.

"Yeah," he answered as calmly as he could.

"You know, I can see why you fucked Rob up. Your Wynston is rather beautiful. Kinda on the fat side but, her titties look delicious. Tell me, brother, how do they taste?" 

Eric wanted to rail at the world. Anything but this, he thought. Mike was even worse than Rob...he was completely without conscience. And he'd found Eric's Achilles Heel.

"Let her go," Eric said quietly.

"Oh, no, I can't do that, bro. She's much too valuable...smells good, too. Yeah, I can definitely see why you go crazy over her. Maybe I'll have a taste while we wait for you to get here," Mike jeered.

"What do you want?" Eric asked. 

"Your life. You were a very naughty boy at that bank, Eric. Now you have to pay. Meet me at the Morris Island Lighthouse at midnight. It will be easy to dispose of your body there. Your life for hers...simple," Mike said conversationally.

"And lose the sheriff. You even think of bringing the law into this I'll put a bullet through her pretty fucking forehead."

"I need insurance. Let me speak with her," Eric said, trying to stay calm.

All of a sudden, she was there. "Eric, I'm in love with you," Wynston said quietly.

Eric's jaw clenched. There was so much he wanted to say to her.

"Aww, she's in love with you. That's so sweet! Remember what I said...not a minute after midnight, and no shenanigans...I'll be watching you."

The call ended.

Eric took the phone from his ear and hung his head in defeat.

Mike had his baby.

Bo stood eyeing Eric. "What the fuck did he say?!"

"He wants me to meet him at the Morris Island Lighthouse at midnight. He'll exchange my life for Wynston's. No police," Eric said quietly.

Bo ran his hand over his face. This just kept getting better and better.

"Come on, let's go," he instructed.

Eric followed, the weight of the world on his shoulder. He had to get Wynston back...he would get her back if it was the last thing he did.

***

Wynston paced the floor of the lighthouse. It was close to midnight and she had been on edge the last few hours. She constantly watched Mike, fully expecting him to strike at her at any moment. 

Periodically, he would leer at her in a way that left little doubt as to what he was thinking. What was it with men? Why did everything come down to sex...and taking it from a woman, for that matter?

The two of them had not spoken, but interestingly enough, she listened to his conversations on the phone. Apparently Detective Mowry was in on this and was supposed to be coming to the lighthouse as well.

But Mike couldn't get into contact with him.

Mike had also tried to reach Rob and Ethan, but apparently they were traveling and couldn't take his calls. He would leave messages once in a while, giving them updates. That meant they weren't in South Carolina, which was good news.

At least Eric wouldn't have to contend with all three of the brothers at once.

Eric...she stifled a sob at the thought of him. 

She hadn't told him how she felt because it didn't make sense. But now, in immediate danger, she wished with all her heart that she hadn't taken life for granted. She wished she had taken every moment to tell him how much she loved him...how much he meant to her.

If they got out of this, Wynston promised herself she would attach herself to Eric like white on rice.

To hell with the fact that they hadn't known each other long. Love was love. She needed him in her life; it was sad that it took something like this to open her eyes.

Mike had said he wanted to trade Eric's life for hers. Wynston knew with every ounce of her soul that Eric would do it...he would give his life to save hers.

She had to do something.

"You know, Eric wasn't the one who hurt you and your brothers," she said into the silence.

Mike had been looking out of the window, watching for any movement. At her voice, he turned and looked at her.

"What did you say?" he asked, his eyes narrowing.

Wynston gulped.

"I said Eric wasn't the one who hurt you and your brothers."

Mike's smile was humorless. For a moment, Wynston thought he wasn't going to respond when he finally spoke.

"You sure you want to tangle with me, lady?" he asked menacingly. "You think you're the fucking authority on my life? I'm warning you, if you want that tongue of yours, keep it from wagging."

He didn't have to tell Wynston twice. She went to sit down on one of the old chairs. So much for doing something, she thought wryly.

The time seemed to crawl toward midnight. 

Wynston got up once again and paced...the wait was killing her. She glanced at her watch. 11:45 p.m. She prayed Eric wouldn't show up...no, she didn't want that. She'd kick his ass if he didn't show. 

What she prayed for was a miracle.

"It's show time," Mike mumbled as he gazed outside. He looked down at his watch. "He's punctual, too."

Wynston's heart thumped in her chest painfully. She got up and peered out of the window. She recognized the F-150 as it slowly made its way toward the lighthouse. 

When Eric stepped out of the truck, Wynston didn't know how to feel. She wanted to call him a jackass for showing up; but she'd never been so glad to see anyone in her life. 

He looked so damn good to her.

As Eric made his way up, Mike suddenly came behind Wynston and put her in a choke hold. He pointed his gun at her head.

They both waited anxiously for Eric to arrive. They could hear his footfalls on the staircase. 

All of a sudden, he was standing there. Tall, handsome and fierce. 

"I'm here, Mike. Now let her go," Eric said, his deep voice low and commanding.

"So you can put a bullet in my head once you have her? I don't think so," Mike said. "First I want you to strip down so I know you aren't hiding a piece."

"That won't be necessary. I'll frisk him," a voice said.

They all turned to see Ethan standing behind Eric.

Mike's face lit up at the same moment Wynston and Eric's faces dropped. 

Shit, she thought.

Pointing his gun in Eric's back, Ethan instructed Eric to put his hands up against the wall.

When Eric obeyed, Ethan frisked him.

"He's clean," Ethan said.

"What the fuck are you doing here, bro? Never thought I'd be so glad to see that mug of yours," Mike said.

"Well you know I couldn't miss out on something like this," Ethan replied.

He ordered Eric to sit in a wooden chair and proceeded to tie him up.

"Now, what are we going do about her?" Ethan asked, motioning toward Wynston. "You planning on letting her go?"

"I don't know," Mike said. "I wanted to have a little fun with her."

"We'll decide later. Let's tie her up for now," he replied.

"That wasn't the deal. It was supposed to be my life for hers. Now let her go," Eric barked.

"We make the calls, understand? You're in no position to make demands," Ethan said calmly.

As Mike roughly pushed Wynston to a chair, he began to tie her wrists. He felt a pinch in his neck and turned to look at Ethan. Surprise registered on Mike's face as he slid to the floor, unconscious.

"Damn, I never get tired of that. This is some good shit," Ethan said, referring to the syringe in his hand that contained the trusty aspirin and water cocktail.

Wynston and Eric eyed him as if he was a lunatic.

"I'll need that chair if you don't mind, Wynston," Ethan said.

She didn't ask any questions, and she didn't wonder how he knew her name. It seemed like these brothers were omniscient. 

Wynston hopped up and watched as Ethan leaned Mike's heavy, inert body, against the chair. 

"Can I trust you to not swing at me if I untie you?" Ethan asked Eric.

"Of course," was Eric's reply.

As Ethan untied Eric, he asked the question on both his and Wynston's mind. "Why are you helping us?"

Ethan paused for a moment. He looked Eric in the eye and felt a twinge of remorse for the hell they had put Eric and his mother through.

"Turns out I have a conscience," Ethan said.

Eric raised a brow. "After all this time?" he asked.

"Better late than never, right?" Ethan replied. "Actually, I've always had a conscience, but my allegiance to my brothers made me go along with what I knew was wrong."

"Why now, though," Eric asked again. He still didn't trust Ethan...he couldn't after all this time.

Ethan sighed, understanding why Eric wouldn't trust him. Ethan wouldn't trust himself either if the shoes were on the other foot.

"It's not really different from being a man," he said. "Most of us play the field and can't ever fathom a time when we'd want to settle down with just one woman. Then all of a sudden, you wake up one day and realize you want to be saddled down with a woman and kids."

"In the same way, I want a normal life. I want to...when your sins outweigh the good you've done, it makes for a miserable life. I want to be clean and replace the bad things I've done with good," Ethan finished.

Eric nodded.

"What will you do about Mike?" he asked.

"He's going to be out of it for a while. When he wakes up he'll call me everything in the book. I'll feed him and buy him a couple beers. He should be fine," Ethan said smiling.

Eric turned his attention to Wynston. As if on cue, she went to him and threw her arms around him.

They all were scared shitless at the sound of the gunshot.



Perfume Ch. 08



AUTHOR'S NOTE: So, ending the story at Chapter 8 really seemed like a good idea...BUT, it didn't quite work out that way! Apparently Eric and Wynston had a little more to say, so instead, I will be concluding the story at Chapter 9. 

I apologize for the long wait, but homey got STUCK!!! I was agonizing for days, afraid that I wouldn't be able to get my mojo back for like, months! But thank the literary gods (and your butt-naked rain dancing) that it didn't happen that way.

Thank you for your faithfulness, understanding and wonderful feedback...please keep them coming (and vote, too)!!!

I really, really hope you enjoy. Without further ado, Chapter 8...

Chapter 8

The machines beeped quietly in the dark hospital room. The mounted television showed the weather forecast, the volume low. Wynston was groggy as she awoke. She looked around for a moment, unsure of where she was. 

Slowly, the events of the last couple of days came back to her remembrance. As her heavy eyelids drifted closed once more, Wynston remembered how she had gotten shot.

***

The first gunshot was immediately followed by another.

Wynston screamed as she, Eric and Ethan all lunged for the floor. When they looked up, it was to find Bo in the doorway, his gun pointed at Mike.

The three swung their gazes to the chair Mike had been slumped against. He now lay wounded on his side, his gun hung loosely in his hand.

"Shit!" Mike exclaimed as Ethan ran over to him. "That fucker shot me!"

"What did you expect, you idiot?" Ethan growled. "You shot first!"

"Damn right! You...stop where you are and put your hands where I can see them!" Bo barked at Ethan.

"It's alright...he's alright," Eric said quickly. "He helped us."

Bo uncertainly lowered his gun, but went to kick the gun out of Mike's hand just in case. Then he handcuffed him.

Examining Mike's wound, Bo found that the bullet had pierced Mike's left thigh. "I'm going to get the medics out here. Apply pressure to the wound," he instructed Ethan.

"Oh my GOSH!" Wynston muttered.

When they had dropped to the floor, Eric had covered her body with his own in an effort to protect her. Now he sat up and looked down at her.

"That asshole shot me!" she said in disbelief. "What maniac shoots a lady?!"

Confused, Eric instinctively looked down at her body; the crimson stain that was spreading across the sleeve of her shirt caught his eye.

"FUCK!!! BO!!!" he shouted. The anguish in his voice was heart-wrenching.

Bo rushed to them and saw that Wynston had been shot in the arm. He gently pulled the shirt away from her and found the bullet hole.

He instructed Eric to put indirect pressure on the wound. Then he used his phone to call the dispatcher. Bo sent for an emergency helicopter as there was no way they could drive to the nearest hospital without putting Wynston in further danger. 

He had no idea how bad her injury was.

When Bo was done, he turned back to Wynston and checked her pulse. It was weak but there. "We need to make a sling," he said, indicating the injured arm.

"How you holding up, sweetheart?" Eric asked as he removed his shirt.

Wynston did her best to be brave. She didn't want him to worry about her. "This crap hurts," she said, making an attempt at humor.

"I know, baby. The emergency 'copter is on the way."

He and Bo worked quickly and deftly to immobilize the arm by making a sling out of Eric's shirt. 

Within a few minutes they heard the blessed sound of the helicopter overhead. 

"I'm going to go down and bring them back up here," Bo said as he made his way to the door. "Monitor her so that she doesn't go into shock," he called back to Eric.

"Eric, I don't feel so good," Wynston murmured.

He tried to swallow around the lump in his throat. He needed to keep Wynston talking so she wouldn't focus on the pain. "Just stay with me. Talk to me...tell me again how you feel about me. Remember what you said on the phone earlier? I want to hear it again," he urged. 

Wynston's eyes fluttered. The pain was excruciating. "I'm—I'm in love with you...I love you so much Eric," she said breathlessly. 

She took a deep breath and kept talking. 

"I didn't know I could feel this way about someone else...and so early on. You make me so happy," she said. "The night before the bank robbery...I prayed for the right man--for you to find me. I suppose we should thank your brothers for that," she said smiling weakly. 

Her big, doe eyes filled with tears as her breath became rapid and shallow. Eric touched her face and found that it was cold and clammy.

She was beginning to go into shock. 

As he kept applying pressure, he found that blood was everywhere. Wynston was losing way too much blood. He hoped Bo and the paramedics got there quickly.

He then began to talk to Wynston, offering reassurance and encouraging words. He told her how much she meant to him and that he would strangle her if she didn't pull through. Eric also pulled out the heavy artillery and told Wynston that Terrence was depending on her to make it.

Ethan sat listening and looked down at Mike once more. He would have to get out of there soon. He hated to leave his brother, especially since Mike would probably be going to prison; but Ethan wouldn't be any good to him locked up as well.

"Mike," he whispered. "I gotta get outta here. Just hang on; I'm going to get you the best lawyer money can buy. Bank on that."

"Don't leave me, man. They're gonna fuck me up, I just know it," Mike cried. Ethan ripped pieces off his own shirt and tied it tightly around Mike's wound. 

"I can't do anything for you if I'm in prison, too. I'm going to fight for you the best way I can," he promised.

Ethan once again looked over at Wynston and watched her as she writhed in pain. 

If only he had listened to his instincts and made sure Mike was fully unconscious...he should've upped the aspirin dosage to accommodate Mike's body weight; or even if he had thought to remove Mike's gun, neither one of them would be lying there injured.

Ethan took in Eric's expression. 

He was obediently applying pressure to the wound with one hand and was grasping Wynston's limp hand in the other. He was whispering something quietly to her that only she could hear.

Ethan could tell Eric was trying to be strong, but he was very near to his breaking point. The last thing he had wanted was to cause Eric any more pain. Quietly he said a prayer for Mike and Wynston and slipped from the tower.

*** 

There was utter chaos around the lighthouse. There were cops, sirens and medics all over the place. As Wynston was gently placed onto the chopper, Eric hopped in alongside her.

"I'll be there as soon as I can," Bo called over the sound of the propellers. 

Eric grimly nodded his head and turned his attention to Wynston. Even though she had lost consciousness, he continued to grasp her hand in his.

Bo did his best to get the authorities up to speed and quickly made his way to the hospital. He cut the trip in half by blaring his siren and doing 90 mph the entire way.

Once at the hospital, he got Wynston's floor from Information and took the staircase. Bo found Eric in the waiting room, his head in his bloody hands, tears running down his face.

"Shit," Bo said.

He walked to Eric, afraid to ask how Wynston was.

"Any news?" he asked.

"No," Eric said quietly. "She's still in there."

That was good. At least no one had come out with bad news. It was a shot in the arm, but so many things could go wrong. Wynston had been shot at close range. Depending on the bullet location, it could've caused a lot of damage. It could've fractured Wynston's humerus, or it could've hit vital nerves, arteries and muscles. 

She could suffer from infection and lose the arm completely.

Bo refused to utter any of those things to Eric, though. He needed Eric to be strong and focused. He got up and walked to the nurse's station and asked if they had some sort of hand sanitizer.

Handing the bottle to Eric with some napkins, Bo sat next to him and grasped Eric's shoulder; he tried to give him something to look forward to. 

"She's going to be fine. When you get this second chance with Hughes, you'd better do right by her," he said as Eric cleaned his hands.

Eric chuckled wryly. Digging in his pocket, he produced the velvet ring box he had been agonizing over the last few days. He had brought it with him in the event he never saw Wynston again. Eric wanted to at least let her know how much she meant to him.

Bo looked at him surprised and opened it. "Damn, man! Lacey's gonna hate me when she sees Hughes wearing this!" he joked.

But Eric didn't laugh.

"She told me she was in love with me," he said quietly. "When I spoke to her on the phone at the hotel...she said, 'Eric, I'm in love with you.' Then she said it again in the lighthouse. What if she doesn't make it, Bo? I just found her."

"Hughes is strong...she will make it," Bo said earnestly. "You two will have the rest of your lives to love each other. Hold on to that and don't give up on her. She will be fine...you have to believe it." 

Eric nodded and prayed with every ounce of his soul that his baby would make it through this just fine. He promised that he wouldn't ever doubt her feelings for him. He would love her until she got tired of him...and even then, he still wouldn't go away.

He just needed her to pull through. Then he would take care of the rest.

***

When Wynston awoke again, she turned her head to the right and saw flowers, stuffed animals and balloons all over the place. When she turned her head to the left, she smiled weakly.

Eric was sitting in a chair beside her bed. His dark head was resting on his arms, which were on the bed near her thigh. She lifted her hand to run her fingers through his soft hair but froze.

"Oh my gosh," she croaked. 

On her finger was the biggest, prettiest engagement ring Wynston had ever seen in real life. Her jaw dropped. She didn't know too much about diamond rings, but she knew this one was expensive...and SO pretty!

This time, she did run her hands through Eric's hair and marveled at the way the ring contrasted with Eric's dark hair. 

At her touch, he awoke, lifting his head. He looked like he was disoriented.

Then Eric jumped up, startled and broke into the biggest, brightest grin. He tried to grab her up in a bear hug, but couldn't because of her arm. Overwhelmed with joy, Eric began to tear up.

"I've never been so glad to see those beautiful eyes," he said softly. "You scared the shit out of me."

He leaned down to tenderly kiss Wynston on the forehead. Damn but she loved this man.

"Look what I found," she said hoarsely. She held up her ring finger, showing off her new piece of jewelry.

Smiling, Eric grabbed her hand and kissed her fingers. "Do you like it?" he asked.

"You mean this boulder? What's not to like?? I love it! Does it mean what I think it means?" Wynston asked shyly.

"Let me clarify so there's no doubt. I am in love with you. You make me happier than I've ever been, and I want to spend forever with you. Will you marry me, Wynston Hughes-Grey?" he asked sincerely.

"With all my heart, yes," she sobbed.

Eric kissed his wife-to-be and thanked every good, benevolent force for this miracle. Wynston had done her part and had pulled through; now he would do his and set about the business of making her the happiest woman alive.

***

Wynston lay in the hospital bed, holding her hand up toward the light. She hadn't put her arm down since she had discovered the ring on her finger. 

"Wow," she breathed.

Eric had gone to the house to shower and change. He would be back shortly. Before he left, he had answered all Wynston's questions, telling her that Mike had been transported to another medical facility. They hadn't heard yet how serious his injury was. 

Personally, Wynston didn't care...the bastard had shot her. How different Ethan had been from Mike, she thought ironically. She had liked Ethan and was happy that he'd chosen to help them instead of carrying on the lifelong animosity toward Eric. 

Eric had said Mike was probably going to serve a goodly amount of time for shooting her and for the part he played in the bank robbery.

"Good," Wynston mumbled. How was she supposed to function with a messed up arm? How was she going to bake??

Her own injury thankfully wasn't as bad as it could've been. Mike had gotten her in the fleshy part of her arm. Wynston had never been so glad to be thick. 

She had ducked at the first sound of the gunshot, which allowed the bullet to only penetrate the arm. And while it had gone completely through, she did not sustain any bone damage. 

As it was, the doctors were expecting her to have a good deal of pain for a long while...her recovery period would be slow; but Wynston was grateful. She could've lost the arm entirely, or her life. 

She owed a lot to Bo. He had made sure to get her to the hospital during the "Golden Hour" which gave her a better chance at survival. Wynston didn't know a shot to the arm could be so serious. But there were many variables that could've affected her outcome.

Yes, she was definitely grateful.

Wynston held her hand up again and gazed at the ring. Smiling happily, she looked in the direction of the door at the sound of the brief knock.

A nurse came into the room and introduced herself as Michelle. She was going to take Wynston's vitals. 

When Michelle was done with that, she asked Wynston when her last period was. 

Embarrassed, she gave the nurse her last period date which was about two months ago. Her period was very irregular and pretty much came on whenever it felt like.

But Michelle didn't pass judgment on Wynston...not outwardly anyway. She only said she would send the ultrasound tech in shortly.

"Ultrasound tech?" Wynston asked, but Michelle was already out the door. Must be some mistake, she thought.

She shrugged her shoulders and immediately regretted it as pain shot through her injured arm. She hoped it would get back to normal at least enough for her to function. 

Wynston killed time, trying to figure out how she would show off her ring. "Oh, Eric, you're just so funny!" she exaggerated as she swung her hand this way and that. 

"Oh, you're out of whipped cream, Starbucks? Whatever shall I do?" she gasped with feigned surprise, lightly resting her hand on her cheek. In every direction she posed her hand, the ring sparkled magnificently.

Wynston giggled. "He asked me to marry him," she whispered. "And he loves me back!"

She quickly sobered up as another nurse came in the room with a machine. This time, it was Amanda.

Wynston frowned. She remembered the contraption from when she had been pregnant with Terrence. It was one of those monitors that gauged a baby's heartbeat.

"Do me a favor and verify your name and date of birth, please?" Amanda said.

Wynston complied but stopped the nurse when she went to affix the strap around her stomach.

"Amanda, there's some kind of mistake. I'm not pregnant," she said.

Amanda frowned. She grabbed the chart and looked at it then she looked at Wynston's ID bracelet.

"Wynston Hughes-Grey, date of birth 10/25/1981...came in with gunshot to the right arm. Says here you're approximately two months pregnant," Amanda said.

This was just a cruel joke, now. Wynston was getting incensed. "Ma'am, with all due respect, I'm not pregnant...I can't get pregnant! There were complications during my last pregnancy." 

She was very close to tears.

Worry wrinkled Amanda's forehead. "Let me go grab my boss. I'll be right back," she said.

Wynston angrily swiped at the tears that had fallen onto her cheeks. She couldn't believe this was happening.

A few moments later, Amanda came back with the nurse manager. She was a kind, older woman.

"Amanda tells me you believe you can't be pregnant?" the older nurse asked. She had introduced herself as Norja.

"Yes ma'am, that's correct," Wynston replied.

"Your chart says your pregnancy test came back positive. We need to see if we can find the baby's heartbeat especially in light of your recent trauma," Norja said. "According to the last date of your period, you should be far along enough for us to hear it."

The fight went out of Wynston. She just turned her head away and allowed the nurses to fuss over her. 

Where was Eric?

When the monitor had been placed around her stomach, Wynston only listened with half an ear to what the nurses were saying and doing. She silently cursed and hoped they'd hurry up and get out of her room. 

This was humiliating.

The room was silent now as Norja moved the monitor over Wynston's stomach, attempting to find a heartbeat. 

Then the unmistakable, rapid beating of a small heart filled the room. Wynston's head whipped back toward the nurses as she stared at them in disbelief. For a moment, she was paralyzed.

Her eyes pooled with tears. "That's a baby!" she exclaimed.

"Yeah! That's what we've been trying to tell you!" Amanda chimed in.

"But...my doctor said I can't have any more children!" Wynston said, her voice trembling.

"Well, whoever your doctor is, they're wrong. You certainly can and you will have a child in just seven short months. So you'd better get ready. You're already behind in prenatal care and planning!" Norja said jovially. 

"But...I started my period a couple days ago!" Wynston explained. This couldn't be right!!!

"We did notice some spotting," Norja said. "I understand you were assaulted recently?"

When Wynston nodded her head, Norja continued.

"Yes, high-stress situations like those will make mommy bleed; and they endanger the fetus, which is why we say that you have to relax...especially during the first few weeks," Norja explained.

"I think when you were hurt, the baby got a little uncomfortable in there. But he or she is a little warrior, and the heartbeat sounds strong," Norja told her.

"You and your baby really are a miracle Mrs. Hughes-Gray. That baby really shouldn't be here. So now that you know, we want you to take it easy; we're going to get you on some prenatal vitamins and send you downstairs for an ultrasound. Until then, tell your husband and enjoy this special time."

Wynston's face crumpled as she burst into tears. She was pregnant and Eric was the father! Terrence was going to be a big brother!

"Awww," Norja crooned as she hugged Wynston. 

Behind her, Amanda dabbed at her own tears. It was sweet moments like these that made this business worth it.

***

Eric walked into the house and sighed. He was tired, but happy. Wynston was okay and they were going to get married...she was in love with him. That's what she'd said. 

He replayed her words over and over in his head. There was no way he could be happier.

"How are you, brother?" 

Eric stopped and turned slowly toward the voice. Not again. He couldn't take anymore of this shit.

Sitting on the loveseat was Rob.

His face drawn, Eric's muscles became taut as he waited for the blast of a gun or some other horrific thing Rob had planned.

What he wasn't prepared for was what Rob did next.

Holding up his hands, he showed that they were empty and that he meant no harm.

"I can't stay long, Eric. I just came to apologize," Rob said quietly.

What the fuck was up with all the apologies?

Eric still watched Rob distrustfully. It was even harder for him to believe Rob than it had been to believe Ethan.

"Why would I believe you?" he asked.

"Because I could just as soon put a bullet in your head. What would I gain from lying to you?" Rob replied bluntly.

He had a point. Rob never wasted time on trifles when he fucked Eric up. He just did it.

"Okay, so what brought about this change? You and Ethan dying or something? Trying to clean up on your way out?"




Perfume Ch. 08



"Nah. Nothing like that—"

"Don't tell me," Eric interrupted. "It's a lot like being a man. You eventually get to the point where you want to be saddled with the wife and kids?"

Rob thought for a moment. "I don't know what the hell that means."

"Forget it. Say your piece," Eric sighed, sitting on the staircase.

Rob took a deep breath and sat quietly for a moment. 

"I'm sorry, Eric. I'm not proud of what I've done, and I'm not proud of who I am. I blamed you...wrongfully for the turn my life took. You were the scapegoat, I guess you could say. It was easier that way. I wanted to come here and say that. I also wanted to say you'll never have to worry about me again."

Rubbing the back of his neck, Eric mulled over what Rob had said. He knew Rob was a straightforward person, and he felt in his gut that Rob was being genuine. 

Eric was all for putting the years of fighting and hatred behind him.

It was too much work to hate a person. With that, he got up and walked to Rob. He stuck his hand out and Rob grasped it. As the two silently eyed each other, a new understanding was established.

"You be careful out there," Eric said quietly.

Rob nodded his head. After a moment, he walked to the door and slipped quietly out of the house.

Eric stood in the middle of the floor staring after Rob, his mind reeling when he heard a noise coming from the back.

"Now what?" he said, exasperated.

He opened the door to find Ethan picking the lock. This was getting ridiculous.

Opening the door wider, Eric stood aside and let Ethan in.

"Is Rob gone?" Ethan asked.

"Yeah, he just left. You hiding from him?" 

"Sort of. How is Wynston?" Ethan inquired.

"She's good. It was a shot in the arm...she's in some pain, but she should recover nicely, though."

"Good. I was worried. Listen, I can't stay long. I just wanted to bring this by," Ethan said, handing a duffle bag to Eric.

"What is it?" 

Ethan smiled, pushing his brown hair out of his face. "Just a little something. I figure it should at least partially make up for the things we did to you."

"Sorry things couldn't have been different. Maybe if I'm ever in the neighborhood..." Ethan trailed off, unsure of himself.

"Consider it done...little brother," Eric said. 

The two embraced, the glimpse of a friendship on the horizon.

As Ethan slipped away in the same manner as Rob, Eric shook his head. "Bunch of fucking crooks," he said smiling.

Looking down at the duffel bag, he set it on the coffee table and unzipped it. Pausing, he wondered for a brief moment if he should chuck it. What if there was a bomb in there or something?

Even though his brothers had come to make amends, old habits died hard. He gingerly opened the bag and peeked inside.

"Son of a bitch!" 

Inside were stacks and stacks of cash. Eric suddenly recognized the bag from the bank heist. Ethan had given him an ass load of money!

Eric barked with laughter at the irony of it all. It definitely had been a crazy day.

***

When Eric walked back into her room, Wynston looked up, her expressive face beaming. He still had the ability to render her speechless both with his presence and his looks. 

He had changed into a white and blue, sleeveless Adidas t-shirt, blue jeans and matching Adidas Originals. The t-shirt showed off his bronze-colored arms which were heavy with muscles.

"Hey there, stud," she said quietly, and promptly burst into tears.

"Hey, hey, what's going on?" Eric asked, rushing to her side. He worriedly looked her over. "Are you in pain?"

"No. Well yes...but, I just—I'm...just sit down," Wynston said as she took a deep breath.

"Baby, what's wrong?" he asked. 

"We have a lot to talk about. All this is so sudden. Are you ready to be a father?" she asked.

Eric knew the topic was going to come up, but he hadn't expected her to be so upset by it. "Yes, of course. Terrence is a part of you, so he means the world to me."

Wynston's eyes brimmed with tears again. "What about a child of our own?"

"Yes, I want children. Don't you?" he asked.

"Yeah, I did. But thing is, my doctor told me after I had Terrence that I couldn't have any more children. There were complications during his birth."

Eric ran his hand over his face. He hadn't known that. 

"Is it completely out of the question? Couldn't we adopt?" he asked.

Wynston smiled through her tears. "That won't be necessary. Listen, I want you to hear something," she said. Wynston had purposely held the monitor away from her belly.

Now, she adjusted it so that the baby's rapid heartbeat could be heard.

"What the hell is that?" Eric asked. 

"It's a heartbeat...our baby's heartbeat," Wynston said softly.

Very, very slowly, understanding registered on Eric's face. He stared at her in wonder as he listened to the quick tempo of the small heart. Tears sprang to his eyes, as he laughed with joy.

"I'm going to be a father?!" he shouted.

All Wynston could do was nod her head as she began to laugh. 

***

The next couple of days were a blur. Wynston was kept in the hospital a bit longer to monitor her progress with the baby. Eric was always with her, animated and proud. He would break out into the biggest, goofiest grin whenever he heard the baby's heartbeat.

When Wynston had had her first ultrasound, Eric stared at the screen in awe. 

He reminded Wynston of the first time she had taken Terrence to the aquarium. His face had been rapt, awestruck by the marine life as they swam by.

Eric's face had been much the same. He asked a lot of questions and had made jokes about their baby's "big head."

When they had told Bo, he had laughed, giving Wynston and Eric a huge hug. He laughed even harder at Eric. "Get ready to buy your pinks and purples, Hughes. This man has sealed your fate," he said, referring to Eric. "I can promise you'll be having a little girl!"

Eric had given him a dirty look. 

Wynston had no idea what they were talking about. Although it would've been very nice to have a little girl so Bo and Lacey's baby would have a playmate. They had found out a few weeks before that they were having a little baby girl. 

Eric had laughed at Bo then, too. 

Weirdoes, Wynston thought.

Now, as she got ready to be discharged, she sat on the bed, her mind turning in wonderment. A baby...she and Eric were having a baby. She wondered how he or she would look. 

Wynston hoped the baby had Eric's beautiful eyes. If she didn't know anything else, she knew this baby would be loved...just the way she loved Terrence with her entire being. It seemed like the day she found out she was pregnant, everything began to come together.

Wynston and Eric were in love, they were getting married and having a baby. Eric had reconciled with his brothers...well, all except for Mike, and Bo had come by and said that the forensics tests were back. 

The scrapings from Wynston's nails identified Detective Mowry as her assailant. He was on his way back to Baltimore so the authorities there could deal with him.

Mike had confessed to the robbery, taking Detective Mowry down with him. He had only spared his brothers, saying that he had pulled the whole thing off by himself.

Of course, that was impossible, but the D.A. was happy to at least get one of the robbers and a crooked detective out of the deal.

The biggest surprise was when Bo had informed them of Ethan and Rob's whereabouts.

"A villa in Puerto Vallarta was destroyed by a fire. There were two unidentified bodies and two identified. They're assuming that the two unnamed bodies belong to Octavia Hall and Greer Dunn...they were linked to the robbery as well. The two that checked out were Ethan Torres and Rob Torres," Bo had said.

For a moment, the room was silent. Then Eric had started to chuckle. Soon Bo and Wynston joined in. They knew without a shadow of a doubt that the bodies found in that fire did not belong to a single Torres brother.

"So does this mean Wynston and I can go back to Baltimore?" Eric asked. 

"I would say so," Bo said. "But let me ask around and see what I can find out. I'm sure the Bureau will be in touch with you soon."

As Wynston excused herself and went into the bathroom, Eric took the opportunity to ask Bo about the other project the two of them had been working on.

"Yeah, I'll get on that right away," Bo assured him.

If everything went the way Eric hoped, Wynston would be very happy.

***

On the way home, Wynston rolled her eyes as Eric fussed over her like a mother hen.

Her arm was in a sling and was in constant pain. Because she was pregnant, she could not take the stronger prescription drugs that would alleviate some of the discomfort. She was put on antibiotics to treat any infections.

Wynston was happy though. She gladly bore the pain if it would protect her unborn baby.

They had just come from the supermarket to pick up her prescription and prenatal vitamins. They also picked up some ingredients for lasagna. Wynston didn't know if it had been all in her mind, but her cravings were starting up already.

As Eric drove, she put down the window and allowed the heat from the sun to caress her face. She had been in the hospital for a few days...it felt good to be out in the fresh air.

Eric glanced at Wynston, watching her as she bathed her face in the sun. She was finally back where she belonged...right beside him. He didn't intend to let her go very far.

Opening her eyes, she caught Eric watching her and winked. She laughed at the hot expression he gave her. She had almost forgotten how easily he got aroused...and how easily he aroused her!

Wynston watched the trees pass by and took in the laziness of the town. She realized she really loved it there in Summerville; and she didn't want to leave. It occurred to her that a life there with Eric, Terrence and the new baby would be lovely.

The people were friendlier, the air was cleaner, and she could see Terrence going to one of the local schools. Wynston could even see herself continuing to sell her baked goods there. 

Maybe she and Eric could renovate the kitchen so she would have more space to accommodate the larger orders. It was definitely something to think about.

Then again, Eric had a full blown career in Baltimore. He had made a name for himself as a Fraud Analyst. It wouldn't be fair to ask him to give all that up.

"Penny for your thoughts," Eric said. He had still been watching her.

Wynston took a deep breath. "I was thinking about Summerville and how much I like it here."

Eric nodded his head in agreement. He was happy Wynston felt the same way about Summerville as he did. Most people from up North didn't like the South because the pace was slow and there wasn't a lot of the excitement the North had to offer.

But South Carolina had always felt more like home for him. All his good, childhood memories had been while he was there. 

"So, I was thinking. How do you feel about packing up and relocating down here?" she asked hesitantly.

Eric's brows shut up with surprise. "Seriously?"

"Well yeah. I mean, I really love it here. I think this would be the best place to raise our kids. Bo and Lacey are here, and I'm very interested in stealing some of their friendship for my self. I'm really jealous of you guys, you know," Wynston revealed. 

"Why's that?" 

"I'm so jealous of people who've found genuine friendship for YEARS. You never noticed that I don't talk about my friends back home?" Wynston asked.

"I noticed. I just thought you didn't want to bring it up because you missed them."

"Nah...I only have people I talk to every now and again, but not close ones. The 'friends' I did have...turns out they weren't really into a friendship or seeing me happy. One slept with my ex-boyfriend. The other went to our boss and told him how she would make a better candidate for a job I got promoted for," Wynston said.

"Damn. Where the hell did you find these people...in the gutter?" Eric asked. "What asshole wouldn't love that face of yours?"

"An asshole," Wynston replied. "So what do you think about moving here?"

She watched Eric, trying to gauge his reaction. He had a poker face which made it difficult for her to tell what he was thinking.

"That means we would have to find a place ASAP. I wouldn't want to stay at the house...it's too small," Eric said.

"For real?! You want to move here?? What about your job and friends...your life??" Wynston asked.

"You, Terrence and the baby are my life. Besides, my heart is in building furniture. If we move here, I can do that full-time."

"Omigosh! So we're really gonna do this?" Wynston asked wide-eyed.

"Yeah, we are. I don't have any objections. I say we give you a couple days to rest up and then we find a realtor and make it happen," Eric said.

"Just like that?!"

"Just like that." He grinned at Wynston's disbelief. She didn't realize that nothing would make him happier than to stay in Summerville. Since they had come there a few months ago, it had been home for him...even more than usual.

***

When they walked into the house, Wynston couldn't believe how much she had missed the place. The scent was familiar to her...the house still smelled like the cupcakes she had baked the day Detective Mowry had accosted her.

It was such a huge improvement from that medicine-y smell of the hospital.

As Eric brought her bags of clothes, flowers, balloons and stuffed animals in, Wynston immediately took off her flip flops and made her way to Eric's room. 

She struggled with her capris, leaving them in a heap on the floor. Lying sprawled on the bed, Wynston gingerly situated her arm on a mound of pillows to avoid exacerbating the injury.

"Home sweet home," she mumbled. The cool sheets against her body were heaven. In the hospital, Wynston had been dying to traipse around in her panties and t-shirt. 

Turning her head, she sniffed the bed sheets, taking in Eric's wonderful smell. He was hers...all hers, Wynston thought for the umpteenth time. She brought her "good" arm up once again and was bedazzled by the sparkling engagement ring.

"Well, maybe not ALL mine," she said into the empty room as she placed her hand on her tummy.

"What's not all yours?" Eric asked. He was leaning against the door frame. 

He always found himself following her like a moth to a flame...or like a lapdog. He couldn't stay away from Wynston if he wanted to.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" she said coyly.

"Keeping secrets, are we? Do I have to force it out of you? I'm not above taking advantage of the handicapped, you know." Eric began to stalk Wynston, and there wasn't a damn thing she could do about it.

"ERIC!!" she yelled. He had grabbed her bare feet and began tickling them.

"Tell me what I want to hear," he growled.

Wynston giggled helplessly, trying her best to kick his hands off her feet. But he didn't budge. "Never, you freakin bully!"

"Okey-dokey," Eric said as he renewed his efforts, tickling her mercilessly.

"Okay, okay, I give up," Wynston shrieked when she couldn't take any more.

"Sorry, but I couldn't hear you."

"I SAID, I GIVE UP," Wynston gasped. She was getting a cramp in her side from laughing.

"Let's hear it, then. What's not all yours?" Eric asked.

"You. I was just thinking how you're all mine. But then I remembered that I'll be sharing you soon," Wynston said sweetly.

"You'll be sharing me, but you'll always be my number one girl." He kissed her and then lifted her shirt and placed another kiss on her plump belly.

"You say that now, but we'll see if you still love me after you get a load of my baby arm," she said.

Eric rolled his eyes and snorted. Wynston was worried that her injured arm would become much smaller from inactivity while the other stayed the same. This was why she called it the "baby arm."

"You'll be fine. It's only for a few weeks...and it's not like it's a cast," Eric reasoned with her.

"We'll see," she grumbled.

The two fell into a comfortable silence as Eric lounged with his head on Wynston's belly.

"I can't believe you knocked me up," Wynston murmured. She lightly caressed Eric's hair. "My dad is gonna kill you."

He grunted. 

Eric wasn't really looking forward to meeting Wynston's parents. He would always be the man who took her off to South Carolina and then got her pregnant. He was going to have some major ass-kissing to do.

"What about you? My mom will demand the head of the hussy who took advantage of her baby," Eric said pointedly.

Wynston exploded with laughter. "Oh, I'M the hussy. I recall waking up in that hotel room with YOUR head in my crotch!"

"You completely initiated that entire situation--" Eric broke off as Wynston gasped in disbelief.

"Yeah, that's right. You begged me to fuck you," he insisted. "With all that, 'Oh, look at me, I feel squeaky clean. Now let me wander around the room ass naked and smooth lotion all over my body sensually.'" 

Wynston burst into another fit of laughter as Eric imitated her in a very unconvincing falsetto. "You mean you were awake and you watched me lotion up, you perv?!"

"Hell yeah, I watched. You put on a show and I enjoyed it!" 

Wynston shook her head in disbelief. He had been so cavalier about it! "I feel violated," she said, feigning hurt.

"Yeah, I violated the hell out of you...for months; and I enjoyed every last minute of it," Eric said, wiggling his eyebrows.

Wynston couldn't do anything but laugh at him. The guy really was funny.

***

Eric had helped Wynston bathe, while the lasagna was in the oven. By the time they were done, it was time to eat. As the two sat in the breakfast nook, Eric enjoyed himself immensely while she tried to feed herself.

Since Wynston was right-handed and her right arm had been shot, she was completely helpless. When she got frustrated with trying to maneuver her fork in a proper manner, Wynston held it in her fist like a toddler and began to stab at her food.

"You can just let me help you, you know," Eric said humorously.

"I know. But I have to learn how to fend for myself especially if you're not around."

"Fair enough," Eric said. 

After they'd eaten, he sent Wynston upstairs to rest while he did the dishes. 

When Eric finished, he turned off all the lights and made sure the doors were locked. Grabbing the duffel bag Ethan had given him, he walked into his bedroom, intending to blow Wynston's mind.

She was in his bed with the remote in her hand. The DVD menu for "Life" was playing. 

"Feel like a comedy?" Wynston asked.

"Yeah, but I want to show you something, first. Both Ethan and Rob came to see me while you were in the hospital."

"WHAT?! Rob is here, too?!" Wynston screeched. "Why didn't you tell me? What happened?!"

"Well, Rob came to make amends. He apologized for everything and then left."

Wynston's jaw was open as she listened to Eric. 

"After he left, Ethan was at the back door, picking the lock. He said more of the same, but he left this," Eric said as he placed the bag beside Wynston.

She eyed it suspiciously. "Obviously there's not a bomb in there...right?"

Eric chuckled. "Those were my thoughts exactly. No, there's no bomb; it's way better than that. Look inside," he urged.

Timidly, Wynston used her left hand to open the bag and gaped inside. She looked up at Eric in disbelief and dug in the bag, pulling out several stacks of money.

"HOLY SHIT!!!" she screamed. "Eric!!! Is this real?!"

"It's real," he said as he lazily watched her, his hands in his pockets.

"How can you be so casual about this?! There's a freakin fortune in here...are you going to keep it??"

"Hell yeah, we're keeping it! Otherwise, how will we explain how we came by it?" Eric asked.

"Oh my gosh," Wynston gasped. She sniffed the money, still believing it was fake. But it smelled like real money.




Perfume Ch. 08



"Why did he do it? Was it to make up for what they did to you?" 

"Yeah, that's what Ethan said," Eric responded.

Wynston was starting to get excited. "Okay, the first thing you have to do is buy your mom a new house." 

"Then, you have to get your dad situated..."

Eric was only listening with half an ear as his heart filled with pride and love. He had just given this woman a fortune in cash, and her first thoughts were for his parents. He was humbled by her, and knew that he had chosen well.

Wynston collapsed against the mound of pillows. "I need to calm down. I am way too excited," she said breathlessly.

"Can you imagine your mom's face when you drive her to her new home?!" Wynston exclaimed. "Okay, breathe, girl. Just breathe."

Eric silently walked to her and kissed her gently on the cheek. "You're a sweetheart, you know."

"I know," Wynston said.

She watched Eric as he put the money in the closet, undressed and got into bed beside her. He wanted to make love to her, but didn't want to make her arm uncomfortable. So he settled for lazily running his hands over her body as they watched "Life."

When the movie went off, Eric turned off the TV and DVD player, casting the room into darkness. Wynston settled under the covers on her back and prepared to allow sleep to take her. 

She stretched her hand out, searching for Eric's stomach but touched his cock instead...his hard cock.

"Oh, you poor baby," she said and stifled a giggle. 

Wynston slid her hand under the waistband of Eric's boxers and pulled his heavy shaft out. She massaged it and reveled in the soft feel of his skin over the iron hardness. It still amazed her how such a seemingly harmless organ could either bring pleasure or pain...or both.

She curled her hand into a fist and glided her palm over Eric's cock, up and down. Wynston was so jealous of her hand right then.

Eric lifted his hips, pumping them with the rhythm of her movements. His gasps and heavy breathing filled the room as Wynston brought him closer to the edge. 

After only a few moments, he spewed his warm come onto her hand and lay there jerking as his orgasm swept through him. When he was able to move, Eric got up and went to the bathroom. He returned with a soapy washcloth and cleaned Wynston's hand.

"Thank you for that, sweetness," he murmured, kissing Wynston deeply.

"If I keep doing that for the next 4 to 6 weeks, I'm really going to have a baby arm while this one gets all buff," Wynston said worriedly.

Eric laughed at her.

She thought he was going back on his side of the bed to sleep; but when the foot of the bed shifted, Wynston looked down and watched as Eric peeled the sheet away from her body. 

Her breath caught in her throat.

He commanded Wynston to open her legs, and she certainly complied. He slipped her black, lace panties off and proceeded to pleasure her with his tongue.

Wynston laid back into the pillows and purred softly. All thoughts vacated her mind as Eric worked his magic. 

*** 

Greer lay in the dark hotel room in Amsterdam. He and Octavia had gotten good at forging passports and documents so they could travel, since they were supposed to be dead. 

Octavia turned toward him in her sleep, and now clung to him. 

His skin crawled.

Try as he might, Greer could not bring himself to blindly love Octavia the way he had before. A year ago, all she would have to do was pay the same kind of attention she now bestowed upon him; and she would have him eating out of her hands.

Now, she was sweet, and loving, and forever at his side. But it was too little too late. Greer was convinced that if Rob hadn't tossed her aside, Octavia would still be Rob's slut.

He gazed at her sleeping form, her almond skin smooth as the moonlight caressed it. She was supposed to be a victim in his plan for revenge. Actually, she was the first person he had planned to get back at. But he hadn't counted on Rob trying to kill him. 

And when Greer had seen Octavia all small and lonely on the beach in Mexico, he had felt sorry for her. Truth was, he did care for her...he really did. But it was time to move on and find someone who loved him for who he was. 

Greer was a rich man now, and had been making plans to get into the technology scene, maybe even go back to school. Denmark was at the forefront of technological advancement, and Greer wanted in.

Thanks to Octavia's stunt, he couldn't go back to the U.S. So why not take the bull by the horns and do what he had always wanted?

He sighed and looked at the clock. 3:20 a.m. Greer removed Octavia's clinging body from his own and turned to his side. He would wait. And when the time was right, he would get on with his life and leave Octavia far behind.

***

Wynston excitedly got dressed...well, she struggled to get dressed. But she was still excited. She and Eric were going house hunting. True to his word, he had made a call to one of the realtors in town, and had set up an appointment for them to look at houses today. 

Eric and Wynston had talked extensively about what they were looking for, and they had agreed that they needed at least a four bedroom home.

It would have to come complete with enough backyard space for Eric to have a work building. They also wanted enough land so that Terrence and the new baby would have a swing set and a safe place to play.

Wynston smiled at the thought of Terrence. 

Now that she and Eric didn't have to testify against his brothers, they would be going back to Baltimore soon. But she and Eric were only going back long enough to pack up their belongings. 

She also wanted to expose Eric and Terrence to each other as much as possible. They were going to be the two men in her life, and it was important that they loved each other. 

Wynston didn't have any doubt that Terrence would be crazy about Eric. 

If her son had been older, she would have worried; but she knew that in Terrence's little 4-year-old world, Eric would be welcomed.

Wynston also thought about where she wanted to get married. Their families were all in Baltimore, so it really made more sense to get married there. 

But if she was honest with herself, she knew she wanted a small, very simple ceremony in Summerville. It was where her heart was. It would be a cinch to fly their parents down. 

Wynston would have to talk to Eric and see how he felt about it.

A sharp pain in her arm made her squeeze her eyes and sit down for a moment. Wynston hated feeling like an invalid. "Sick and shut-in" was what Lacey called her now. 

That was another reason she wanted to get married in Summerville. Lacey and Bo would be there; they'd come to mean just as much to her as they did to Eric.

The pain in Wynston's arm was bearable now. She got up and made her way downstairs to find Eric. 

He was in the kitchen making breakfast. "Good morning, beautiful. How are my babies?"

Wynston walked up to him and brought his head down to hers. She lovingly kissed him on his full, firm lips. "We're starving...and excited," she answered.

"Well eat up so we can get outta here," Eric said, sliding a plate of pancakes, bacon and fruit toward her.

Wynston inhaled the wonderful smell. "You're so good to me!" she exclaimed. 

Thoughtfully, she compared Eric to Terrence's father. The two were like night and day. Her ex would never be the man Eric was to her. She sent up a silent thanks to the universe for sending Eric to her.

"There's a rumor around that a certain yummy, Bori male has a birthday coming up," Wynston said. She took a big bite of her pancakes as Eric sat down beside her.

"Yeah, your old man is getting up in age," Eric groaned.

"You wear it well, though, Papi. Is there anything special you want? Like a party?" she asked.

"I hadn't really thought about it. My mind's been preoccupied with...pretty much everything else," Eric joked.

"Yeah, we do have a lot going on. Tell you what; I'll plan a small get-together...nothing huge. Just a small celebration maybe with Lacey and Bo. How does that sound?"

"Sounds great," Eric replied. 

What Eric didn't know, was that Wynston didn't know the meaning of "small." She was extravagant and did most everything with grand style. As she thought about the birthday she was going to plan for Eric, Wynston cooked up a plan that would blow his mind.

***

Rob pulled the baseball cap low over his face and closed the car door. He walked slowly, across the lush, green grass, his footsteps heavy. When he came to his mother's grave, he ran his hand along the marble stone, removing a bit of debris that had covered part of Maria's name.

Reverently, he placed a large bouquet of pink, yellow and lavender tulips on the ground and sat facing the tombstone. Tulips had been his mother's favorite.

As they normally did, tears rushed to Rob's eyes and spilled onto his face. Removing his dark sunglasses, he swiped at the tears and took a moment to pull himself together. 

"I screwed up, ma," he said quietly. As Rob poured his heart out to his mother, the gentle wind blew around him, carrying his words, hurt and pain far away. 

After he had unburdened himself, he felt better. 

"I did do one thing I think you'll be proud of," Rob said softly. "I spoke with Eric and made amends with him. I think maybe...just maybe that later on, we can have some sort of relationship."

He paused, his head down in contemplation. 

"Life is full of irony, mom. I lost one brother and gained another. But if you could help me, I promise...I'm going to do everything differently. I'm going to put other people first, and I'm going to make it up to Ethan. I need my little brother back."

Rob sat on the ground for a few minutes more before he finally got up. 

"I probably won't be coming back any time soon but...you should know better than anybody that you're always in my heart. I want to make you proud for a change, mama."

Wistfully, he touched his fingers to his lips and pressed them against the headstone. "I love you," he said quietly. Rob replaced the sunglasses on his face and walked away.

***

Wynston fell in love with the fourth house they saw. It was a two-story Colonial style home, with nine-foot ceilings, six bedrooms, five full baths and two half. There was a three-car garage and an unexpected, winding staircase. 

The house even came with a workshop that was already up and running; plus the asking price was only $375,000. Eric had been especially impressed with that. 

It was now mid-afternoon and they had seen the last house the realtor, Jonathan, had planned for them to see. Wynston rummaged through the cooler of goodies Eric had thoughtfully packed for her. 

She was so grateful as she and the baby were starving.

"Sooo," she said as she peeled a banana. "What did you think?"

"It's a nice place," Eric said. He seemed to be very preoccupied as he backed out of the driveway, and glanced at the clock on the dashboard.

"'A nice place?!'" Wynston asked in disbelief. "That's all you have to say? That place was insane!"

"Yeah, I know...but it's only the fourth house we've seen. I think we should look around some more."

Wynston couldn't believe what she was hearing. If they waited, the house wouldn't last that much longer...not at that price. It had only been on the market two weeks; and she was sure it wouldn't be available much longer.

"Okay, so what's the plan? We're going to continue to shop?" she asked.

"I think that's the smart thing to do," Eric replied quietly.

"Eric. What's the matter, baby? You were fine this morning. Are you upset about something?"

"No, I'm not upset. I just think we should keep looking. What if we find something better?" 

"That's cool. I just don't understand why the long face," she said.

"It's nothing. I just want to make the right decision," Eric replied.

"Fair enough," Wynston said. She turned her face and looked out of the window. She didn't understand why Eric was so distant. Was he having second thoughts about the whole thing?

When they pulled up to the house, it was to find Bo and Lacey sitting on the porch. Wynston squinted her eyes and let out a scream.

Terrence was sitting on the porch with them.

***

Eric let out a sigh of relief. He was worried that his plan with Bo didn't work. He had been working non-stop for weeks trying to get Terrence to South Carolina. 

But Terrence's father had proven to be some piece of work. 

From what Wynston had told him, the father was an asshole; but she never really went into full detail about him. When Eric had his investigator friends try to get Terrence to come down South, the father had been the hold up.

He had baldly stated that Terrence was better off with him anyway; and that he could be a much better father to him than Wynston was a mother. The father had put up a good fight, and even had Eric convinced that he genuinely cared for the little boy.

As a last-ditch effort, Eric had offered the father $10,000 of his own money to relinquish his visitation and allow the child to come with his mother. Eric half expected him to throw the offer in his face. 

But he hadn't.

At first the man had hemmed and hawed at the offer; but then he had accepted, much to Eric's chagrin and anger. Wynston had no idea just how much of an asshole her ex was; and he didn't know how to break it to her...or if he should.

When they'd gone house hunting, his thoughts had been preoccupied with Terrence and whether or not his father had put him on the plane. Eric had hoped that the man would show one ounce of decency and call the whole thing off.

Seeing Terrence now sitting on the porch was bittersweet. He would be reunited with Wynston; but he had been disposable. For ten thousand measly dollars, Terrence's father had sold his rights. 

Eric made up in his mind that he would be the best father Terrence had ever seen. He would love him as his own and there wouldn't be a difference between Terrence and Eric's biological children.

As Wynston screamed and tore out of the truck, he chuckled. She was a fast little thing. 

They all watched as Wynston and Terrence ran toward each other and embraced in the balmy afternoon.

While mother and son clung to each other, Wynston's sobs could be heard across the yard. Eric stuck his hands in his pockets and leaned against the truck, watching the scene before him. 

Paying that piece of shit $10,000 was the best thing he'd ever done.

***

Eric looked at the staircase for the umpteenth time. It was now nightfall and Wynston had taken Terrence upstairs to give him a bath. When he had stuck his head in the room, it was to find Wynston pulling on Terrence's pajamas. 

Even then, she was still plying him with kisses. Lucky kid, Eric thought with a grin. Quietly, he had walked downstairs, not wanting to disturb the two.

They had had an impromptu barbecue with Bo and Lacey to welcome Terrence "home." The child had been animated, asking a lot of questions. 

Wynston had been motherly and patient, answering all of them. She introduced Terrence to Eric, and the two had hit it off. Eric admitted to himself that he had been nervous. It would have been a huge problem if Terrence had hated his guts.

But just as Wynston had said, Terrence was still young and full of love. He still was at the age where he welcomed new people into his little world. Eric had played with him the entire afternoon while Lacey and Wynston prepared the food.

Once, he had come into the kitchen to find Wynston alone. Lacey had gone outside to take the hamburgers to Bo who was tossing a baseball with Terrence.

Wynston turned when he came in, her eyes overflowing with tears.

"What's the matter? Are you okay...is the baby okay?" Eric had immediately thought the worst.

"Yeah, we're both fine," she said, drying her eyes.

"Then why are you in here alone crying?"

"I was just having one of my moments," Wynston explained. "I was just thanking God for you. I know Terrence is here entirely because of you. I was just wondering what I did to deserve you, Eric."

Wynston began to sob again.

He tenderly took her into his arms and held her with everything he had. "I'm the lucky one, Hughes," he said quietly. "Do you have any idea how you've brightened up my life? Now that I've found you, I'm not lettin' go."

Just then, Terrence burst into the kitchen and stopped in his tracks. He watched wide-eyed as Eric and his mommy held each other. "Can I have hugs and kisses, too?" he asked shyly. 

Both Wynston and Eric parted to make room for him. Eric grabbed the little boy up and placed him in the middle so that he and Wynston could squeeze him tightly.

Terrence had giggled at being the center of attention.

Now Eric was sitting in the living room trying to wait patiently for his turn. He kept the volume on the TV low as he flipped through the channels.

Finally, Wynston made her way down, beautiful as ever in a cotton, turquoise dress. The pregnancy gave her chocolate skin a healthy, vibrant glow.

Without asking any questions, she lifted her dress to her hips and straddled Eric's thighs.

Placing her forehead on his, Wynston lovingly cuddled her nose against his. "I super love you," she whispered.

Eric massaged her behind under her dress and placed small kisses all over her face. "I super love you back," he said in return. "Is Terrence asleep?"

"Yeah. Between the flight and the newness of everything, the poor kid didn't stand a chance."

"Good. 'Cause I wanted you all to myself," Eric said.

He turned off the TV and carefully lowered Wynston to the couch. Easing himself between her thick thighs, he tasted her sweet tongue while his hand traveled up her body and pulled down her dress. 

Wynston wantonly smoothed her hand down Eric's body in search of his cock. Thick and heavy, she found its imprint through the fabric of his jeans. She drew away from his kiss in order to fumble with his zipper and delve inside.

Wynston stroked Eric's hot, throbbing member in her hand and returned to him to receive his deep kisses.

As he pumped his hips back and forth, enjoying the feel of Wynston's grip on his dick, she moaned softly when his warm tongue stroked her sensitive nipples.

His hands slid down to the apex at her thighs, nearly causing Wynston to swoon. Eric tortured her bud sweetly, agonizingly while his dark, beautiful head still rested at her nipples.

Wynston pumped her fist around Eric's cock in sync with the rhythm of her thrusting hips. She didn't know if she could take any more. This was magnificent.

She brought his hardness to her clit and sighed when he repeatedly slid over her nub of desire. Eric pulled away from her long enough to disrobe; then he returned so that their tongues could mate.

Hungrily, Wynston received his kisses and her eyes rolled back when he pushed himself into her snug opening.

"Oh my God," she groaned as her arm slid around his shoulder. Eric began to slowly thrust in and out of her tightness.

He made a hissing noise through his teeth as he rose up over her. When Eric stopped moving, Wynston's eyes flew open.

Eric was looking down at her, not flinching. He resumed his slow, steady pace; and as Wynston's eyes drifted closed again, Eric stopped moving.

Her eyes opened once more. 

"You like this Rican dick in you, baby girl?" he panted.

"Yes," she murmured. 

"You want this Rican dick to give it to you?" he asked, his jaw clenching.

"Please!" Wynston cried.

"Then keep your eyes open, and watch me," he commanded.

Wynston obeyed, not allowing her eyes to close no matter how exquisitely Eric drove in and out of her.

As their breathing became harsher, he continued to look down at Wynston, speeding up the tempo of their sensual beat.

She brought her hand up to cup Eric's face, kissing him with all the fire and passion she felt for him.




Perfume Ch. 08



Wynston's moans heightened to a trembling, feverish pitch as she tightened around Eric and reached her climax.

Eric broke his own rule and closed his eyes at the wondrous feeling of Wynston's body tightening around him. Completely out of his control, his own body plunged into her a final time, his hot liquid jetted powerfully into Wynston.

The two lie together on the couch. Gradually their panting subsided and breathing returned back to normal.

The cool air against Eric's damp back was welcome.

"That was an A+," Eric said drowsily. He moved so that he wasn't lying on Wynston's arm.

"Hmm?" she mumbled.

"I gave myself an A+. If you weren't already pregnant, you would be this time."

Wynston laughed and swatted at his arm. "Men," she said. 

After a few minutes, they dragged themselves off the couch and up the stairs. Wynston was about to check on Terrence once more but Eric stopped her.

"Let me," he said.

Stepping to the side, Wynston watched with some surprise as Eric went into her room and adjusted Terrence's covers. He placed a kiss on the sleeping child's forehead and walked Wynston into their room.

"You're pretty good at that," she said.

"I take my job seriously," Eric replied, kissing her on her forehead as well.

As they undressed and got into bed, Wynston wondered again how she had gotten so lucky. She came to the conclusion that it hadn't been luck, because she had been through the mill when it came to relationships. 

It was obvious that somebody in the cosmos felt that she had kissed enough toads. It had finally been her turn to meet her prince.

***

On the afternoon of Eric's birthday, Wynston thought she was going to pull her short hair out. There were so many things left to do and not enough time.

Thankfully, Bo had taken Terrence and Eric with him. As a favor, Bo was keeping Eric out of the house so she would have time to set up. 

The hard parts were over. She had already recruited Bo to set up the tables in the back yard. The caterers would be there shortly and the cake was on the way as well. Wynston had wanted to try her hand at baking Eric a huge, beautiful Puerto Rican Coconut Cake. 

But the pain in her arm had kept her from baking. She had ordered a Dulce de Leche torte instead.

"Okay, Lace! I'm on my way out. If the caterers get here before I do, just instruct them to set up in the back," Wynston said.

"Gotcha!" Lacey said as she rummaged through the refrigerator. 

Wynston smiled. "Maybe you can pull your head outta the fridge so you can hear the doorbell."

"Watch it, missy! You're next!" Lacey answered, referring to Wynston's imminent obsession with food.

"Alright, be back," she called as she closed the door behind her.

Wynston skipped on her way to the truck. She was on her way to pick up Eric's birthday gift. She really hoped he liked it. There had been a lot of sneaking and tip-toeing around to pull this off.

But it had been worth it. She couldn't wait to see the look on his face when he saw her gift to him.

***

"Okay, no peeking," Wynston warned.

Eric smirked. As if he could see around the blindfold she had hastily tied around his head. It was entirely too tight, and he fully expected to lose consciousness any minute now.

"Can you loosen it a bit? I think I can feel the blood rushing to my head," he said.

Wynston giggled. "Sorry."

She worked to loosen the tie a little and checked to make sure Eric couldn't see. He had been sitting on a chair to allow her access to him. Wynston still couldn't raise her arm above her waist yet. It was hard being pregnant and crippled.

"You look very handsome, birthday boy."

He really did. Eric had changed into a pair of Dockers khakis. He wore a cotton, sky blue Perry Ellis shirt with the sleeves rolled up. The outfit was finished with a pair of brown Kenneth Cole loafers.

Eric's look had been simple, yet striking on him. Wynston decided to take advantage of his vulnerable state.

She cupped his face with her hand and leaned in to kiss him. Her warm, soft lips met with his, and Wynston took Eric's bottom lip into her mouth, sucking it lazily. She kept up her tender torture for a few minutes until they were both breathless.

"Is this my birthday surprise?" he asked. "Because if it is, I like it. Take off your clothes."

"Eric! Stop that!" Wynston cried as he blindly grabbed for the hem of her dress. She had decided to wear the new coral dress she had bought at the boutique the day Detective Mowry had approached her.

Wynston was glad she had an opportunity to wear the dress. She was sure that in a few weeks, she wouldn't be able to fit into it.

Wynston wore a pair of gold, T-strap sandals with low heels, and finished her look with gold bangles and earrings and a pink primrose tucked behind her ear. 

Eric's eyes had begun to smolder when he saw her. 

He and Terrence had been in the living room playing a video game when she had descended the stairs. Both of her men had looked up at her, their game completely forgotten.

"You look pretty, mama," Terrence had said in awe.

"Why thank you, baby. You look handsome, too," she had replied. Wynston had initially dressed Terrence in a pair of khaki shorts, and a white, polo shirt; but after he had seen Eric wearing pants, Terrence went ballistic, saying he wanted to wear pants, too.

So she had changed his bottoms so that he was wearing khaki pants.

Eric had not yet spoken, and when Wynston turned her attention to him, she blushed. She was beautiful...it was written all over Eric's face.

"Can't wait until later on," he said, turning his attention back to the video game. Eric didn't need to say anything else. Wynston knew exactly what he meant...and she couldn't wait either.

***

"Watch your step here," Wynston instructed as she led Eric outside. 

As the guests waited quietly, Wynston took in the scene. They were all lovely in their evening attire. The women all wore summer dresses and the men had cleaned up nicely, wearing khakis and polos.

She had overseen the entire process of transforming the back yard, choosing black and silver as the motif. It was simple, yet masculine. 

There were round tables and chairs placed strategically around the yard for guests to be seated. Each table had black table cloths. A large bouquet of white, black and silver balloons sat in the middle as centerpieces.

Four rectangular tables and a lone, square one stood a distance away where servers waited pleasantly for the diners. 

The small, square one held Eric's gifts. The other four tables were brimming with every dish imaginable. Wynston had wanted authentic, Puerto Rican dishes, but she wasn't sure if the caterer could handle it.

So she decided on the Puerto Rican-style roasted pork shoulder with rice and black beans and fried, sweet plantains. She had been able to taste that dish and found that it was very good.

Wynston had also ordered plenty of seafood, as she knew a lot of the guests would want it. There were large shrimp sautéed in butter, white wine, garlic and tomatoes, steamed crab leg clusters, and a grilled salmon dish.

Another table boasted braised short ribs, mashed sweet potatoes, fried green tomatoes, collard greens, shrimp and grits and Navajo fry bread. On the ground near the tables were huge tubs filled with ice and bottles of beer, soda and water.

Wynston had even sprung for a small jazz band that also played Spanish music. They sat to the left of the tables of food; and in front of them was a space where guests could dance if they wanted.

Black and silver Chinese lanterns hovered over the yard, lending their soft, muted glow to the guests. 

Servers even now walked around with trays of champagne.

Wynston had outdone herself.

For mid-July, the evening weather was very atypical. This had been the perfect night for a party. The breeze softly blew through the trees; and the temperature was not even at eighty degrees. There wouldn't be much sweating or fuss about the heat...the weather was perfect.

Wynston looked around for Terrence and saw that Bo had him in his arms. She slowly untied the blindfold and let it fall from Eric's face.

The crowd yelled, "SURPRISE!!!" 

Eric opened his eyes with a wide grin. He knew there was going to be a small gathering, but there was nothing "small" about this one. 

Placing his arm around Wynston's waist, he walked toward the crowd and received the well wishes and good-natured ribbing about his age. All his friends from the first barbecue were there. 

But Wynston had even succeeded in gathering some of his relatives who lived in South Carolina.

As everyone wished him a Happy Birthday, Eric's eyes were drawn to a table where two people quietly sat. He stopped in his tracks as recognition struck him.

"No way," he exclaimed, and the crowd burst out laughing. 

Sitting in their summer finery were Eric's parents. 

Yuliana Calderon and Hector Torres looked like an Old World Spanish couple. They carried themselves with a quiet grace and dignity. The two made a striking pair, and Eric had been blessed with looks from both of his parents.

Hector was the fairer of the two, and he was the parent from whom Ethan, Rob and Mike had gotten their sandy hair color. Even though Hector was a man of 65 years, he was still handsome.

He was tall and similar in build to Eric and Rob. Hector's brown hair was mixed with gray, especially along his temples. His hair was cut low in the same manner as his sons'.

He wore a cream-colored, linen suit with a sea green shirt underneath and cream loafers. Hector looked very distinguished.

It was obvious that Eric had gotten his dark looks from his mother. Yuliana's long, jet black hair fell in thick curls around her exotic face. Her own complexion was swarthier like Eric's. 

The top of her head only reached Hector's shoulder, and her build was voluptuous. 

Her make-up had been carefully applied, her lips lush with a deep red. Her red summer dress was simple, but showed off her curves. Though she was older, time had not detracted from her looks. 

Yuliana was still very much a beautiful woman.

Eric walked to his parents and embraced them. The look of shock on his face had been good enough for Wynston. Mission accomplished, she thought.

"Eric!" Yuliana exclaimed in her thick accent. She reached up and grabbed her son's face, kissing him fully on the mouth.

Then she showered kisses all over Eric's face, leaving behind a trail of red lipstick. 

Wynston laughed. 

The action reminded her so much of herself with Terrence. She wondered if she would be the same with her son when he was in his thirties. 

Probably, Wynston thought to herself.

Eric squeezed his mom lovingly and turned to embrace his father. Wynston tried not to stare, but the reunion was just so poignant. She turned away and made herself busy with greeting the guests. She wanted to give Eric some privacy with his parents.

She prompted the band to begin playing and soon, the night air was filled with the easy sounds of jazz.

Before long, Eric led the crowd to the tables and everyone eagerly filled their plates. 

Eric, Wynston, Terrence, Yuliana, Hector, Bo and Lacey all sat at one table. They all laughed as Eric, Bo and Lacey talked animatedly about their childhood escapades.

Terrence sat on Eric's lap as he fed the child food from his plate. Yuliana and Hector had been watching Eric with the little boy with vast interest. 

Wynston was extremely nervous about what Eric's parents thought of her and Terrence. 

She hadn't had the best track record when it came to mothers. Terrence's paternal grandmother had hated her guts...and the feeling had been totally mutual.

"Please can I have some more shrimps and some more tomatoes, mama?" Terrence asked.

"Sure, babe," Wynston replied. 

But before she could move, Yuliana jumped up. "I will take him, Wynston. Yes?"

Surprised, Wynston nodded her head and sat back down. Her gaze followed Yuliana and Terrence as they walked hand-in-hand to the tables of food. 

She looked back at Eric with round eyes. "It's okay, sweetheart. She's going to love you...don't worry." It was like he was reading her mind.

Hector smiled kindly at Wynston. "You love my son...this is obvious. A woman who would do all this for a son of mine is deeply in love," he said. "Welcome to our family."

He got up and gently embraced Wynston, kissing her on the cheek.

Wynston's eyes misted at the humbling gesture. "Thank you," she said quietly.

"And do not worry about Yuliana. She loves you," Hector whispered. He winked conspiratorially as he made his way to the food with Terrence and Yuliana.

"Wow," she said. 

Eric pulled her into his lap and buried his face in the crook of her neck. "How in the world did you pull this together on such short notice?" he asked.

"Damage control," she said. At Eric's curious look, she explained. "If your mom was going to meet the hussy who took advantage of her son, it was going to be on a grand scale."

Eric threw back his head and shouted with laughter. People turned to look at them as he pulled Wynston closer and kissed her on the shoulder.

"I don't know how I can properly thank you for all this," Eric said quietly.

"Well shit...I can tell you now how you can thank me," Wynston said, borrowing his favorite phrase.

Again, Eric laughed heartily, making several pairs of eyes look in their direction...one pair of them belonged to Yuliana Calderon.

***

While Eric caught up with his family members, Wynston discreetly walked into the kitchen to put the candles on the cake. Standing in front of the refrigerator, she looked at the cake dubiously. 

She had ordered a huge, 8-layer Dulce de Leche torte. But Wynston was at a loss on how to get the cake out of the refrigerator. She heard the back door open and glanced around the door.

It was Yuliana. 

Silently, she crossed over to the refrigerator and peered inside along with Wynston. She wrapped her arms around Wynston's shoulders and lightly guided her to the side.

Yuliana grabbed the cake and oohed and ahhed over it.

Wynston stood by quietly, not knowing what to expect. Was this when Yuliana was going to tell her that she hated her guts?

"Come child," she said as she made her way to the island. "Tell me how you want the candles."

Wynston obeyed and watched quietly as Yuliana strategically placed the candles on the cake.

"That is a beautiful ring you're wearing," she said quietly, looking at Wynston's hand.

Here it comes...

"Thank you."

Yuliana turned to look at her and put the candles down, giving Wynston her full attention.

"I make you nervous," she said. "Listen, like any mother, I am curious about the woman my son is going to marry. But I am not here to hurt you. Tonight, I watched the two of you together, and...I have never seen my boy so happy. You make my son happy, Wynston."

Tears pooled in Wynston's eyes. "I've never been so happy in my life...your son makes me happy as well, Yuliana."

Eric's mother seemed to think on this for a moment. "And I am happy. So tell me," she said as she turned back to finish placing the candles. "When is the baby due?"

Wynston's jaw dropped. She had not told Yuliana that she was pregnant; and she was sure no one else had.

"I am a woman of many years. I know the healthy glow of a mother-to-be when I see one. Now, please. Tell me about my grandchild."

Wynston obliged, and gave Yuliana the entire story of how she found out she was pregnant, and how her own doctor had told her she could have no more children.

Yuliana's face had changed from shock to deep concentration to sympathy as Wynston spoke. And when Wynston was done, Yuliana had embraced her as tightly as she could without hurting Wynston's arm.

"You poor thing! Well, not so poor...you have been blessed with another little one! We must go shopping and begin getting the baby's room decorated...there is so much to do!"

Wynston smiled at Yuliana's enthusiasm and instantly felt relieved. The ladies continued to talk excitedly as she lit the candles, and Yuliana carried the cake outside.

Eric's family sang the Puerto Rican version of the Happy Birthday song. Afterward, everyone joined in and sang the regular version.

When Eric made a wish and blew out the candles, the band started playing a salsa piece. Some sat around and enjoyed their cake, while others began to dance.

Terrence ran to the middle of the yard and danced to the driving beat of the salsa, making everyone laugh and cheer him on. When the song finally ended, he ran over to his mother, ready to devour his piece of cake.

The mood around the guests became lazy and comfortable. Everyone was full as the music slowed to a slow, easy pace. Wynston stifled a yelp as the band began to play her favorite jazz piece, "Chelsea Bridge." 

It was one of Eric's favorite pieces as well. Wordlessly, he got up and offered his hand for Wynston to take. The couple made their way to the area in front of the band, and began to sway languidly to the music.

Eric had wrapped his arms around Wynston's waist, and her uninjured arm rested on his shoulder. Wynston contentedly closed her eyes, laid her head on Eric's chest, and allowed herself to be swept away by the magic in the air.

Likewise, Eric closed his eyes and was now placing soft kisses on Wynston's head.

Their table watched as the two lovers moved with the music. Terrence had wanted to go with Eric and his mother, but Bo and Lacey distracted the child by playing "I Spy." 

Yuliana and Hector both observed their son and his woman.

"They are in love," Yuliana said quietly.

"Yes. I remember not long ago, I told Eric that he would begin to settle down and he'd want only one woman...he laughed at me," Hector replied.

Yuliana smiled. "Who can tell children that they do not know everything about life?"

"You know, we will be grandparents soon," she said.

Hector nodded his head. If their closeness was any indication, he expected Eric and Wynston to have children within a year.

"Hector, I mean we will be grandparents in a matter of months," Yuliana said meaningfully.

Slowly, understanding donned on him, making his lips part in surprise.

"Now you understand, mijo. And they are to be married soon, as well."

Hector nodded his head and rubbed his chin, thoughtfully. "You know, once upon a time, that was us," he said, gesturing at Eric and Wynston. 

"Maybe later you will permit me to see you once we are back at the hotel. But for now, I will be content with this dance," he said. Hector stood, and waited for Yuliana to take his hand.

She blushed prettily. 

Yuliana would never admit it to Hector, but she was still very much in love with him. He had broken her heart to pieces all those years ago when she had learned that he'd been married.

After the day of Maria's death, Yuliana had never had anything else to do with Hector. Their relationship was completely about raising Eric together. 

But tonight, under the magical stars, Yuliana allowed herself to be swept away in Hector's arms.

***

Octavia opened her eyes and stretched. She felt for Greer beside her but found that the bed was empty.

She looked around. He was gone. Must've gone for some breakfast, she thought.

Since they'd been in Amsterdam, Greer couldn't get enough of the poffertjes there. Poffertjes were small, puffed pancakes served with butter and powdered sugar. Octavia had liked them as well...just not every day.

When Greer still didn't come back, Octavia got out of bed and went into the bathroom to brush her teeth. She thought she heard the door open and stuck her head out. 

Still no Greer.

When another hour passed, Octavia began to worry. She was fully dressed and had painted her toenails to pass the time. She decided to make the bed. As she straightened out the blankets, she caught sight of a piece of paper that had fallen to the floor.




Perfume Ch. 08



Curiously, Octavia looked at it and immediately recognized Greer's handwriting. Her heart dropped.

As she sat on the bed, Octavia covered her mouth with her hand and read the short note.

Tay,

I keep wondering how things would've turned out if Rob had wanted you still. I'm a different man than I was a year and a half ago. Now I want more. I don't think we can ever really make each other happy. Please know that I do care about you, and I probably shouldn't have left you alone in Amsterdam. But you're a tough, rich woman with street smarts. I'm sure you'll find your way.

Greer

Octavia couldn't believe it. This had to be some sort of joke. She got up and looked in the closet. Greer's clothes and bags were gone. She went back into the bathroom and looked around. She hadn't even noticed that his toothbrush and toiletries were gone.

"Son of a bitch," she said as a thought occurred to her. She ran to her own bags and frantically looked for the bag she always kept hidden. She breathed a sigh of relief. The money was still there. 

Octavia then went to the window in vain hope that she would catch a glimpse of him. All she saw were tourists and natives of Amsterdam milling around. Once again she was alone.

Octavia numbly walked back to the bed and sat down, still clutching the piece of paper in her hand. Greer had left her. And she couldn't even be mad, because she had deserved it. She knew she had never been good to Greer; and even though she had tried to turn around, it had been too late.

Octavia wondered herself where she would be now if Rob hadn't turned on her. She would never know. 

Heaving a huge sigh, she dropped her head into her hands and began to weep. 

***

Octavia made her way along the crowded sidewalk, unsure of her destination. After discovering that Greer was gone, she'd had to get out of the hotel room. She absently sidestepped passersby, wondering to herself where she should go.

She had all the money she could ever ask for, but what was money when you were alone? 

Octavia had thought she would have a second chance with Greer. She had wanted to prove herself to him...to prove that she had changed. But it wasn't meant to be. 

She refused to let Greer's disappearing act get her down. It hurt but it wasn't the end of the world...men came and went.

As she looked onward, she spotted a small café. Craving a strong cup of coffee, Octavia turned into the place. Glancing at the patrons who sat at the tables outside, she did a double-take.

She looked into a very familiar, very friendly pair of greenish-gold eyes. 

It was Ethan. 

But he looked so different. His chin-length hair had been cut extremely low the way Rob wore his hair. 

Octavia was so happy to see a familiar face, she almost wept. 

As she approached Ethan, he got up and gave her a big bear hug. "I was wondering if I'd run into you guys in this place," he said.

He looked over her head for Greer. "Where's your boy?" he asked.

Giving him a wobbly smile, Octavia shrugged her shoulders. "He left me this morning...or maybe it was last night. I don't know...I woke up and he was gone."

Ethan looked at her stunned. "You mean you're in Amsterdam alone? What do you mean he left you??"

Octavia shrugged her shoulders again. She didn't know why, but she was very embarrassed. "He cut out on me. Left a note saying he wanted more, and...that if Rob hadn't dogged me out, I'd probably still be with him."

"Shit," Ethan said. He grabbed Octavia again and embraced her. "Well, there's no way you can stay here by yourself. You're coming with me. We can travel together."

Octavia smiled gratefully and nodded her acceptance. She would follow Ethan into a sewer if she had to. She was ever so grateful that she had at least one friend in the world.



Perfume Ch. 09



Rob was deep in thought as he made his way back to the car. Now that the authorities thought him and Ethan dead, he had to leave Baltimore behind and make a new life for himself elsewhere.

But not before he worked to get Mike a shorter sentence. That would take time, a lot of traveling, and the best lawyer money could buy.

He breathed a sigh of relief because years ago, when he had first begun to acquire his wealth, he had opened a Swiss Bank account under another name. It would be tricky, but Rob was sure he would be able to get to Switzerland without any problems.

If there was anything he'd learned in his line of business, was the art of remaining unseen, and playing the part of chameleon.

From Switzerland, he would travel to Amsterdam. That was supposed to be their second destination after Puerto Vallarta. He had no idea if Ethan would still follow the plan; but Rob had to at least try to find him. 

Before he left, though, there was one more person he needed to see...Hector.

It was time to face his demons head on. As painful as that was, this was something he needed to do. With his hand on the door handle, Rob made to enter the car when a voice stopped him.

"I have watched you come here on your birthday each year. I was hoping this time would be no different."

Rob tensed. 

He kept his head low and turned to stare at Hector from behind the comfort of his dark sunglasses.

His father continued to speak to him from the shadows of a large, oak tree. Hector didn't dare move any closer. 

"Happy birthday, Roberto. How are you?"

Rob chuckled. The sound was dry and humorless.

"As if you've ever cared how I've been," he said. His deep voice was dripping with sarcasm and controlled rage. He thought he could do this...talk with his father, but he couldn't. He couldn't just get over twenty plus years of hurt.

"I do care, son...I've always cared." Hector said haltingly. 

"FUCK YOU!!!" Rob exploded. "I can just...I can fucking choke you!!!!"

Hector closed his eyes against the force of Rob's words. Even worse was the pain he heard beneath them. He knew this would be hard, but Hector didn't know if he could stand up under his son's fury. For once in his life, though, he would try. It was the very least he could do.

For the second time that day, tears rolled down Rob's face. "You fucking turned your back on us like we were shit. Then you had the audacity to be the perfect father to Eric--"

Rob turned away, unable to articulate what he wanted to say. He grabbed his head as if in physical pain. Then he whipped back around. 

"Why him and not us?" he asked brokenly. 

Hector bowed his head in shame as tears rolled down his own face. Rob had sounded like a wounded child.

"FUCKING ANSWER ME YOU GODDAMN BASTARD!!!" Rob bellowed. 

When Hector still said nothing, Rob's voice dropped, barely above a whisper. He sounded defeated. 

"For once in your miserable life, answer the fucking question," he implored.

Hector stood there at a loss for words. He thought about why he'd left his sons and poured all his attention into Eric, and then he spoke.

"Eric didn't...I hadn't hurt Eric the way I hurt you. He still looked at me as if I was his hero, and I needed that. There was no condemnation or disappointment...just love. I couldn't face you and Miguel, Roberto. Then when Etán got old enough to understand what I had done, the same disenchantment was mirrored in his eyes. It was too much."

Hector paused, taking a deep breath. 

"How do you redeem yourself in your children's eyes when you have just killed their mother?!" he cried. Hector stepped forward, stretching his hand toward Rob. It was as if he was begging his son for understanding.

Once again, Rob turned away from his father. This was really too much. There was no fucking way he would allow Hector's sob story to affect him. He had abandoned them, goddamn it; not the other way around.

"You listen to me," he growled. "There is no fucking excuse for what you put us through...your fucking flesh and blood!" Rob's veins were beginning to protrude in his neck, his face mottled with red. 

"WE WERE LOST!!! WE FUCKING NEEDED YOU!" Rob thundered, the tears pouring down his face. He had long since discarded his sunglasses.

He took a step toward his father, not sure what his intentions were. Rob was like a caged animal and capable of anything right now. 

Well aware of his son's propensity for violence, Hector hastily took a step back.

Rob spoke quietly now, the anguish no less palpable. "We needed you. I fucking needed my father. The rest...we could've worked through it. We may have hated you for a while for what you'd done, but you should've been there to take it like a goddamn man. I..."

He stopped, staring up at the sky, seeming to collect himself. "I used to watch you...WE used to watch you go to Eric's. We would watch you bring him gifts and...father him. You have any idea what that does to a kid??"

Hector's shoulders slumped as he listened to Rob. He'd had no idea his boys watched him. He didn't think he could get any lower than this point.

"Son," he began.

"And the abuse from Evalisse and Arturo," Rob continued. He spoke as if Hector had not uttered a word. "Where were you when that shit was happening?" he asked.

Hector's eyes widened, his expression became pained. "Son, please believe me. I never knew of any abuse! If I had—"

"If you had what? You would've come for us? You would've done what you should have in the first place?!" Rob asked, enraged.

As Hector stood there silent, Rob suddenly became very, very tired. He couldn't do this shit anymore. He didn't even have the energy to hate his father.

He looked at Hector from dim, red eyes...eyes that had not known joy for 23 years. 

"I'm done," he said quietly, his gaze shifting off in the distance behind his father. 

"I can't speak for Mike, but you've destroyed me. I'm grateful that you didn't get to Ethan. He's a good kid, and hopefully I didn't do to him what you've done to me. I'm on my way to find him...to right the wrongs I've dealt him. That's the difference between you and me; I can try to rectify my mistakes. You...you just shit on people and then carry on as if nothing happened."

Rob used the end of his shirt to wipe the tears from his face, and made to leave. But before he did, he looked at Hector once more. 

"Find your other sons. One is in prison; I don't know where the other is. Maybe they have the heart to forgive you. As for me...stay away; or I'll put a fucking bullet between your eyes."

With that, Rob put his sunglasses back on and got inside the car. As he sped away, he never looked back at Hector. If he had, he would have seen the old man collapse to his knees, sobbing.

***

For Eric and Wynston, the next few weeks went by in a blur. 

They were busy with prenatal appointments and looking at houses. The baby was doing well and growing everyday. But the house hunting wasn't coming along as nicely. 

The two had looked at five more houses, but nothing fit what they were looking for.

So they had decided to go back to the fourth one they'd seen...which was the one Wynston had wanted in the first place. Luckily it was still available.

Looking at the home a second time only reiterated what Wynston already knew. She loved the place...and so did Terrence for that matter. He had already claimed one of the large guest bedrooms for his own.

Eric finally came around the second time, looking at the house with new eyes (or with the eyes of a person who was tired of house shopping), and realized that it was everything they were looking for.

Wynston never said "I told you so." She just smirked at Eric, letting him know what she thought of his doubting her instincts.

Once they put in their offer and it was approved, they set about getting the house appraised and inspected. They were aware that the closing process could take between thirty and sixty days. It was just enough time for them to get back to Maryland, pack up, and plan a small wedding.

After their honeymoon, they would have to work double-duty getting the house and nursery ready for the baby.

Wynston's head was spinning just from the thought of everything they had to do. But she and Eric had family and friends who were willing to help, so that was a huge plus.

Her arm was healing nicely, as well. Wynston had been incredibly excited when the sling had been removed two weeks earlier. Of course there was still residual pain, but she was slowly regaining use of the arm. 

And Eric was right to tell her not to worry about the "baby arm." Both her arms were identical and Wynston felt silly for worrying.

Her pregnancy was coming along without any complications, too. Even though she had begun to experience morning sickness, Wynston didn't complain. It meant her little one was alive and well inside of her, so she took everything in stride. 

For Wynston, life was good.

Her relationship with Lacey was getting stronger everyday. Wynston found it so refreshing to have a true friend whom she could trust. Everyday she, Terrence and Lacey walked around the park during the cool of the evenings. 

It was a good opportunity for Terrence to get out and expend his energy. Meanwhile, Wynston and Lacey got their daily exercise and were able to spend time with each other and catch up on girl talk.

At the fifth month of Lacey's pregnancy, she and Bo had learned that they would be having a little girl. Lacey had called Eric and Wynston, screaming about the good news. All she had been waiting for was the word. 

Once she learned the baby's sex, she went ballistic with the shopping. 

Lacey dragged Wynston with her to every baby store imaginable - which wasn't a bad thing since Wynston got some of her own baby shopping done, too – and bought all the little pink and purple dresses, shoes, blankets and nursery decorations she could find. 

Unfortunately, though, her husband was scared shitless. Bo was already worried about protecting their little girl from boys and preventing her from getting pregnant. Eric was always the "Amen corner," giving his two cents' worth on the matter.

All the two women could do was laugh at their men and how ridiculous they sounded.

Wynston couldn't be happier...until she and Eric got into their first argument.

He had finally told her how he'd gotten Terrence to South Carolina, and Wynston was not pleased. Since they were returning to Baltimore in just two days, they were in Eric's room packing clothes for the trip when Eric dropped the bomb. 

"You did what?!" Wynston gasped. She did her best to keep her voice low as Terrence was quietly playing in the other room. 

Obviously it was a rhetorical question, so Eric just watched her silently.

"Wait. Let me get this straight. You took $10,000 and bribed Terry into letting T.J. come here? And he took the money?! AND you're just now telling me all this?!"

Again, Eric said nothing. 

Wynston stood with her hands on her hips and eyed him, waiting for him to say something.

"What do you want me to say? If there's anyone to be pissed at, it's Terry. He's the one who took the money. I only wanted to bring Terrence here to you," Eric said quietly.

Wynston sat on the bed and ran her hand over her face. 

"I appreciate that, and I love you for it, but this just complicates things even more. I can't tell you how grimy Terry is. Have you stopped to think that now he will make our lives even more difficult? You tossing your money around will only make him want more," Wynston said.

Honestly, she felt like Terrence Sr. was her problem; and that's how she wanted him to remain. She didn't want Eric to be dragged into all her mess, but it looked like the damage had already been done.

"Who did you say you were to Terrence and me? Terry is going to go ballistic when he realizes that T.J. will be spending the majority of his time with another man. And where the hell did you get $10,000 just like that, anyway? Ethan hadn't given you the money yet." 

"It was my own money," Eric answered. "And I didn't disclose who I am. I just made the offer through a friend. At first, we didn't hear anything from him. Then at the last minute, he contacted the friend and accepted," he explained. 

Eric watched Wynston. She was clearly agitated which in turn made him irritated as well. He had done a good thing, damn it!

"Look, I understand your concerns, but I won't allow Terry to be a problem for us. He sure as hell won't be getting any more money. You just have to trust me. My job is to protect you, Hughes. Haven't I been doing that?" he asked.

"Eric, I do trust you; and I know you did all this from a good place. But you're missing the point. Terry isn't good...I didn't want you to get involved in my problems that way." 

Wynston was close to tears.

Eric pulled her to her feet and gently took her into his arms. 

"If I had a problem long before I met you and kept it to myself, how would that make you feel?" he asked, kissing the top of her head.

Wynston groaned. She knew where he was going with this. "I wouldn't like it, but I wouldn't be throwing $10,000 at it either," she said. "Why the hell did you have to give him so much money?!"

"Okay, maybe I got a bit overzealous. But truthfully, I was hoping the guy would have more integrity than to take it," Eric explained.

Wynston buried her face in his clean-smelling shirt and sighed. 

"OR, you could've just believed me when I told you he was scum. Eric, you don't understand. I've had minimal dealings with that asshole because he's the worst mistake I have ever made. I can't even believe I called myself loving him!"

She pushed away from Eric not knowing how to make him understand what he'd done. Wynston was very afraid of what Terry was capable of. Even worse was the fact that her son had been bought and sold. 

She grieved for T.J. 

His father was no better than the dirt on the bottom of her shoes. He had forfeited his relationship with their son for money...that was low even for Terry. How would she explain that to her boy later on?

Wynston was completely overwhelmed and prayed that Terry would simply leave them alone. 

When Eric went to grab her again, for the first time in their relationship, she pulled away, avoiding his touch.

"I just need time, Eric." With that, she left the room.

***

Late that night, Wynston awoke to find that Eric's side of the bed was empty. She knew it had something to do with their argument earlier. Also, she had not had much to say to Eric after that, and Wynston now felt bad. She lay in the dark, slowly rubbing her small, baby bump as she mulled over the situation.

As always, Eric had only been trying to help...albeit in a very grandiose fashion, but she couldn't fault him for that. Wynston knew him well enough to be sure that Eric was somewhere in the house beating himself up over the issue. 

What a contradiction he was!

She had always thought men like him were vain and pompous...that they didn't care about anyone but themselves. Eric was entirely the exception. He was too gorgeous for words, yet he had a wonderful inside to match his outside. He was a rare jewel, and she was so lucky to have found him. 

Wynston wondered if she would ever get it right when it came to her reactions to difficult situations. She didn't want to keep hurting Eric this way...it wasn't fair to him. 

With a new resolve, she got up and went to look for him, not wanting him to continue to stress over this. 

She realized that she was inadvertently allowing Terry to come between them, and that wasn't going to fly; Wynston would rather die than allow that to happen. She would just allow the chips to fall where they may and tackle the Terry situation with Eric when the time came.

Wynston first stopped by Terrence's room to check on him. Then she padded downstairs and found that everything was dark; but the front door was open so she made her way onto the porch.

Eric was sitting on a cushioned lounge chair, a beer bottle hanging loosely from his fingers. He looked like a petulant little boy. Her poor baby. 

Wynston could just eat him up...he was so precious to her. She felt even worse for being too hard on him. Looking up as she made her way toward him, Eric quietly observed her. 

"Come down to ignore me more?" he asked, taking a swig of his beer.

"No. I missed you in bed," she said quietly. 

"I couldn't sleep...came out for some air," Eric said tersely. 

Wynston could hear the tension in his voice. She had to do her best to rectify the situation.

Taking the beer bottle out of Eric's hand, she set it down on the porch and eased onto his lap. She cupped his face with her hands and kissed his lips. They tasted like beer. 

"Forgive me," she whispered.

Eric automatically pulled her closer to him and nuzzled his face in the crook of her neck. He was so forgiving...and loving.

"I can't quite find the words to explain to you how I was feeling. I just want...I want our relationship to remain untarnished by Terry. He has a way of destroying things for me, and I don't want to see you affected by him. He's a monster and in my own way, I wanted to protect you from him, sweetie." 

Wynston shrugged her shoulders, hoping she made Eric understand at least a little of what she meant.

"I get that. But you have to understand that Terry had that kind of control over you because to a certain degree, you allowed it...and on top of that, you were fighting alone. But I'm here now, and your problems are my problems. We're supposed to be in this thing together, Hughes...ride or die. We don't come with separate lives. We have to mesh at some point, right?" he asked.

"Yeah, I know...but you can't be throwing money at our problems, either. For real! $10,000, Eric?! That was absurd...you gotta admit that!" she exclaimed.

Eric smiled wryly. "I tend to do things in grand style, what can I say?"

Wynston swatted his arm. "Eric!"

He pulled her close again and laughed. "Okay, I admit the money was a bit much. Happy?"

"Yes. AND, I want you to promise to DISCUSS our problems with me, too. No solving them by yourself. Right now you're on probation," she said pouting.

"I'll do my best to compromise, baby. But I'm not a man who asks for permission when it comes to my family. If a situation presents itself where I have to do what I need to in order to protect you and the kids, I'm going to do it. Anything else?" he asked.

"No," Wynston sighed. She guessed she'd just have to be content with that. It was a start. 

"Just keep being you...but I reserve the right to add to this agreement later on." She smiled and laid her head on Eric's chest. Twining her fingers with his, they enjoyed the cool and comforting night breeze. The crickets sang their hypnotizing song in unison, lulling Eric and Wynston into a companionable silence.

"Have you thought any more about our wedding?" he asked suddenly.

"Yeah...about that," she said. Wynston almost laughed when she felt Eric tense.

"Calm down...I was only going to say that I really don't want a huge ceremony. I don't have many friends and the most important people in my life wouldn't even take up two pews in a church."

"Okay. So what do you want to do?" Eric asked.

"Well, I think it would be great if we could just go to the Justice of the Peace. Then afterward, we can have a nice dinner with our family and friends, and then spend a ridiculous amount of money on our honeymoon...that is, if we have any money left after that $10,000 you GAVE away. What do you think?"

Eric smacked Wynston on the rear for her cheekiness and kissed her forehead. "You really are amazing, you know that? I think it sounds good."

"Have you thought of a date?" Wynston asked.

"Nope. But it should be soon. We're already going to have our hands full with leaving Baltimore, then moving into the new house AND getting ready for the baby. I think we should do it before we come back here."




Perfume Ch. 09



"That's another thing. Can we have the ceremony and dinner here?" Wynston asked hesitantly. 

"I know it sounds silly, but I don't feel like I have any ties to Baltimore really. I mean, obviously my parents are there; but other than that, I don't have many good memories in Maryland."

"That makes two of us," Eric drawled. He agreed wholeheartedly with what she said. 

"So if we fly everybody down here, we can get married, have the dinner and leave for the honeymoon the same evening. Where are we going and where will Terrence go?" Eric asked.

"T.J. can go with my parents. That shouldn't be a problem," Wynston assured him. She couldn't keep the excitement out of her voice. 

"As for the honeymoon...the world is our oyster. But, I will say that I'm not really in the mood to travel. With the pregnancy I'm beginning to feel really drained and...claustrophobic. So a plane ride should not be in the cards. I feel like I'm making all the decisions here, though. You choose. I trust you," Wynston assured him.

"Oh, really?" Eric said, accepting the challenge. "It'll be a surprise. But you won't find out until it's time to go."

She let out a squeal and shimmied in Eric's lap. "We're getting married!!!" 

Eric laughed and once again buried his face at the juncture between her shoulder and neck. In an instant, their planning came to a halt as the mood shifted. With one simple touch from Eric, Wynston became aroused. 

She moaned as he licked her neck and massaged her body. She was grateful that he had kept the lights off on the porch. Wynston didn't need to be doing amateur porn for the neighbors...especially in her delicate condition. 

All thoughts of lighting and porn dissolved from her mind as Eric spun his magic on her. "I love you," she whispered.

And she did. 

No other man had ever made her feel this way. Wynston's final thought was to give silent thanks. Thank you for bringing him to me, she thought. And then she succumbed to her need for her man.

***

Ethan and Octavia set out to explore Europe together. Theirs was an easy relationship, free from the pressures of sex or any other type of intimacy. Neither was interested in that right now, as they both were freshly wounded and wanted time to be single and free...they needed time to heal.

So the two traveled as companions and often stayed in adjoining hotel suites. For the most part, they were inseparable. They hung out, talked about their pasts and hopes for the future. They went sight-seeing together, and whenever Ethan met a girl he was attracted to, Octavia would quietly make herself scarce to allow him the freedom to do his own thing. 

She knew whenever he was done with his latest girl toy, he would find Octavia and they would resume their explorations together.

It was actually funny to watch women go berserk over Ethan. Every young waitress or patron from Amsterdam to France had nearly swooned at Ethan's feet. He was just as yummy as his older brothers, but he was a sweetheart, too. 

Somehow, he had not been affected by their father's betrayal the way the older two had been. 

Octavia figured it was probably because there was such a huge age difference between Ethan and his brothers. He had only been an infant when his mother had killed herself. Thankfully, he had not turned hard the way Rob and Mike had.

She often thought about Rob and how she had fallen all over herself for him. Octavia had realized too late that she had been nothing to him...only a toy used to feed whatever darkness that ruled him. 

She was more ashamed of herself than she could express.

Octavia also often thought of Greer and what he was doing with himself. Truthfully, she harbored no ill-feelings toward him. Greer had done what was best for him, and she was glad for it. 

For years he had treated her like a precious gem, and she had shit on that. 

The awful truth was she probably wouldn't have given him a second thought had Rob not treated her the way he had. That shamed Octavia more than anything. She was very embarrassed of what she had become, but she worked diligently to improve herself. 

One evening Ethan had asked what it was about Rob that made women just drop whatever guy they were with to sleep with him.

Guilty, Octavia had tried her best to explain Rob's appeal and what had drawn her to him. Quite simply she had wanted him; but she had wanted to please him more. It was as simple as that. 

"That's not to say that it was right," she'd said. "Some women – like myself – are idiots. We fall for that whole "bad boy" character and when we get burned...we have no one to blame but ourselves."

In the hotel room, Octavia had looked out of the window while Ethan sat watching her, waiting for her to finish explaining why she had thrown away her relationship with Greer.

"Then too, I already wasn't a good person, Ethan. I was selfish and didn't care one iota for Greer's feelings. Everything was all about me." She had turned away from the window to face him.

"Don't be discouraged. Every woman out there isn't like Lena and me. So many women are good, and they're just waiting for a guy like you to come along. Please don't let this experience turn you against all women," Octavia had begged.

Ethan had gotten up and came to stand before her.

In his charming, boyish way, he cupped her cheeks and kissed her on the forehead. "You are good. You've just made some bad decisions...we both have. I think if we work to do good from here on in, maybe, just maybe we'll have a chance to be happy."

Octavia had learned a lot from Ethan. He was always kind and often went against the grain. He did what was right no matter how unpopular it was. Whether it was helping an older woman find her car or notifying a cashier that he had received too much change back, Ethan did it all.

She was happy to say that some of his goodness was rubbing off on her...well, at least Octavia hoped it was. 

Now, she and Ethan sat in a small café in France. They had stopped there for lunch before going to the Louvre. They had been in France for a week and were enjoying every moment of life there.

When the waitress came to take their order, the curvy brunette openly flirted with Ethan. The girl preened and eyed Ethan so much that Octavia almost blushed. She was tempted to leave the two of them, the sexual tension was so potent.

Ethan ordered the baked snails in garlic and butter sauce and the Bouef a la Bourguignonne which was beef stew in red wine with button mushrooms, French bacon and a side of mashed potatoes. Octavia almost gagged at the thought of the snails.

Then, as if she was an afterthought, the waitress reluctantly turned to Octavia. She ordered a bottle of Orangina, a croque monsieur - which was basically a hot ham and cheese sandwich – and a crepe of sugar and butter for dessert.

"Well damn," Octavia said as the girl left. "Far be it from me to expect her to take my order, too!" 

Ethan laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling with merriment. Octavia absolutely loved it when she was able to make him laugh.

"What can I say? The ladies love me. Next time, just tell me what you want and I'll have my waitress bring it to you," Ethan joked. 

Octavia rolled her eyes at his arrogance. 

"Any news from home?" she asked.

"Nah. All's quiet. I'm just working out the details to get Mike a good lawyer. We don't have too much time until his trial."

"How will you get him a lawyer from all the way over here?" Octavia asked curiously.

Ethan simply shrugged. "You forget I've been living this lifestyle my entire life. I know lawyers and I have connections all over the place. It won't be hard at all. The only thing that will take the most time is getting large sums of money across the pond. That will require some traveling."

"What about Rob. Are you still dodging him?"

Ethan sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. He was still hiding out from Rob. He had no idea what frame of mind his big brother was in. Ethan had taken Rob's share of the robbery money and given it away to Eric. If he wasn't a glutton for punishment, he didn't know who was.

"Yeah, I'm still laying low," he replied. "I know he'll find me eventually. I just don't know what he'll do to me once he does."

Octavia gasped, and lowered her voice. "You don't think he'll kill you do you??" 

Ethan laughed. "No, he won't kill me. But by the time he's done with me, I'm sure I'll wish I was dead."

They both fell silent as the waitress returned with their food. Again, Octavia watched as the waitress eyeballed Ethan and winked at him. With a very thick accent, she spoke in English, asking if there was anything else he needed.

Once again, Ethan rewarded her with one of his heartthrob smiles. He was laughing at Octavia more than anything. Pausing, he motioned to Octavia asking if she required anything else. When she shook her head, Ethan dismissed the girl and winked back at her.

The waitress looked like she was going to hyperventilate from the small action.

"You gonna help me eat these?" Ethan asked, referring to the snails. 

"Hell no," Octavia replied. Ethan laughed and dug into his food.

As she took a bite of her sandwich, Octavia thought about what Ethan had said about Rob. "We've been all over Europe, E. Do you really think Rob will find you?"

"Sweetheart, Rob taught me everything I know. He's a pro. Add to that the fact that he knows me like a book...for the most part. If he hasn't found me by now, it's because he doesn't want to. I fully expect to see him very soon," Ethan explained.

When they were done eating, they shared Octavia's crepe. She sincerely hoped Ethan was wrong and that they were able to stay out of Rob's way. She felt a shiver go down her spine. Rob was ruthless as hell.

"Maybe we should move on to the next place, then. Sort of keep him off the scent," Octavia offered.

"I'm actually tired of running. You know what? Fuck it. Whatever happens happens, Octavia," Ethan said with resolve. 

Just then the waitress emerged again and interrupted their conversation. This time she was carrying a carafe of wine and two glasses. She was looking rather sour.

"Wait, we didn't order this," Octavia said.

"Zhis is from zhe ozher beautiful American gentleman over zhere," she said, her thick French accent nearly making her words impossible to understand. "It is for you to enjoy."

Octavia watched Ethan's eyes narrow as he stared at something over her shoulder. When she turned toward the bar, Rob raised his own glass in salute and winked.

Octavia swallowed with an audible gulp and turned back around. She eyed the door, wondering if she and Ethan could make it to the exit in time to avoid the bullet that would most likely explode from the gun she was sure Rob carried.

She had known fear before in her lifetime; and Octavia could honestly say that this time certainly ranked up there with some of her scariest moments ever. 

***

Wynston looked around her apartment triumphantly. They had done it...she, her mom and Yuliana had packed and boxed up her whole life. The movers had left about an hour ago. 

They had first stopped by Eric's place to pick up his things. Now that Wynston and Terrence's belongings had been loaded, everything was now on its way down to the new house in Summerville. 

All had gone well with the new house and they had closed a few days ago.

Wynston breathed a sigh of relief. 

The only thing she had left to do was to vacuum the floors and hand her keys to the property manager. 

She walked around the apartment remembering her life there. For the most part she had always stayed to herself. Life pretty much only revolved around Terrence and work. Because so-called friends always hurt her, Wynston had developed a protective wall around herself and very rarely let anyone in. 

She leaned against the living room wall and remembered the many times she'd cried in the apartment. She had cried tears of anger, frustration and exhaustion when Terry had dragged her to court for two years on a bogus custody suit.

There were so many nights when she had walked the floor agonizing over what would happen the next day in court.

Wynston looked at the spot where the couch used to be. So many times she'd sat there in front of her laptop trying to figure bills and how she would afford to pay them and buy groceries. 

Then a particular night came to mind that she would never forget as long as she lived.

It was the evening she had checked her account to find that her car payment had been withdrawn twice; which of course led her to the bank the next day. Wynston smiled as she remembered having left her license at home and having to come back to the apartment to retrieve it.

She had been hot and pissed. But what Wynston hadn't known was that the fates had been working overtime that day.

In hindsight, she realized she should be grateful to her loan company for screwing up her account. And she was even grateful to Eric's brothers. Then Wynston had a scary thought. What if she hadn't worn the Dolce and Gabbana that day?!

Eric wouldn't have turned around and he wouldn't have seen his brothers coming in to rob the bank.

She laughed, tears welling up in her eyes. 

It shook Wynston to the core to think that she and Eric may never have met if everything hadn't lined up the way they had.

Walking over to the dress and pair of shoes that hung from the door frame of her bedroom, Wynston fingered the material lovingly. 

Even though she would not be wearing the typical white, wedding dress to the Justice of the Peace, she still wanted to be beautiful. 

She had also wanted the experience of having her mother and mother with her; so Wynston had taken the two women along to find a dress. Lucky for her, Yuliana and Sharon got along famously. 

Wynston had tried on a million dresses until she found the one that she absolutely was in love with.

It was a white, tropical maxi dress with splashes of purples, pinks and greens. It fit her like a glove and managed to show off her cleavage. Even though Wynston's belly was beginning to protrude, she still felt gorgeous in the dress. 

Both her mom and Yuliana had gasped with excitement when Wynston had walked out of the fitting room. The dress swished as she moved and flowed enticingly to the floor. It wasn't a wedding a dress, but it sure felt like one. 

Wynston was happy and immediately purchased the dress for less than $200. 

When she'd shared the news with Eric, he'd told her she could have spent more than that if she'd wanted. He had made her take his credit card with her to buy the dress.

"I know. But there was no need to be excessive. I found what I wanted...and besides, you don't just get over years of penny-pinching," she'd said. 

"It's quite alright, Eric." Wynston tried her best to assure him when he still looked perturbed.

"I appreciate your frugality, sweetheart, but I don't want you worrying about money. There's no need for it," he'd said. 

"I won't make promises not to pay attention to the money I spend...that's just me. But I won't stress. How 'bout that?" she had asked.

With furrowed brows, Eric accepted Wynston's kiss. But she could tell he wasn't happy with it. 

As she snapped out of her musings, she quickly vacuumed the floors and made sure she wasn't leaving anything behind. She placed her luggage by the door along with her dress and shoes. 

Eric would be there momentarily to pick her up in the rental. Both her Explorer and his Tahoe had been shipped and would hopefully arrive in South Carolina before they did. 

From her apartment, they would spend the night in a hotel room. Terrence was with Wynston's parents while she did the last minute cleaning at the apartment. So the next morning she and Eric would pick him up and head to the airport to catch their flight to Summerville.

The day before, Sharon had insisted that Wynston, Eric and Terrence spend the night at her home, but Wynston had refused. Her old bedroom only had a full size bed, and there was no way she and Eric could share it. Wynston's claustrophobia had gotten worse as the pregnancy progressed. It was like she needed a ton of room wherever she went. 

As it was, she didn't know how she would handle the cramped flight to South Carolina.

"Well, dear, that's the thing," her mother had said. "You and Eric aren't married yet, so if you were to stay here, you would have separate bedrooms. It really doesn't make sense to waste money for one night at a hotel."

Wynston had looked at her mother as if she had gone bananas.

"Ma, I've been sleeping with this man for months and I'm knocked up with his kid. What do you mean we'd be in separate bedrooms?"

"We need to do what's decent. My house, my rules," Sharon had said staunchly. 

Wynston so wasn't arguing with her mother. She had been exhausted...compliments of the pregnancy.

"Okay, mom. Thanks for the invitation but no thanks. Eric and I will continue to shack up at the hotel." With that, she had pecked her mom on the cheek and walked away. As far as she had been concerned, the conversation was over.

At the sound of the doorbell, Wynston skipped to the door. She couldn't believe that after all this time, she was still so excited to see Eric.

When she opened the door, though, it wasn't Eric standing in front of her. Wynston fought hard not to let her panic show.

She kicked herself mentally for not looking through the peephole before opening the door. Why would she, though? She had been expecting Eric. Instead, the last person she wanted to see on Earth was standing in front of her.

Wynston slapped on a bored expression and prayed to God that her bravado would work and that Eric would get there shortly. 

"What do you want?" she asked, folding her arms across her chest.

Terry didn't wait for an invitation into the apartment. He boldly pushed past her and walked inside.

***

Eric was supposed to already be on the way to Wynston's, but he had gotten sidetracked with his father. He had stopped by Hector's house to drop off his plane ticket. This was the first time he'd really had an opportunity to talk to his dad since he'd been home. 

All of Eric's time had been split between packing, preparing for the wedding, resigning from his position at his firm, buying things for the new house and baby, and spending time with Wynston, Terrence and his mom.

He would be so glad when they were settled. For the past few weeks, he and Wynston had been on ten and he was beginning to get weary.

Now, on top of all that, he was stressed about his brothers' relationship with their dad.

They were sitting at Hector's dining room table, and his father had spared no detail when he told Eric about the conversation between him and Rob at Maria's grave. It was as if his father had memorized all of Rob's words and had carried them with him up to this point. 

Eric had sincerely hoped that Ethan and Rob could at least make a new beginning with both him and Hector. 

He wasn't sure about Mike...he'd shot his baby after all.

But based on Rob's words, it didn't look like a reconciliation was forthcoming...at least not with Rob.

"I'm sorry dad. I was hoping for a better outcome. What will you do now?" Eric asked.

"What is there for me to do? They hate me...I will continue to stay out of their lives," Hector said dolefully. He couldn't take another tirade like the one Rob had delivered a few weeks ago.

Eric sighed, exasperated. His father had no right to be feeling sorry for himself. It was time for Eric to be blunt with him. 

"Wrong answer, dad. In order to get something, you have to give something. Isn't that what you've always taught me? You can't continue to give up on them because dealing with the situation makes you uncomfortable," Eric said irritably.




Perfume Ch. 09



Hector looked at him, surprised. Eric had never spoken to him in this manner before.

"Look, dad, I've watched you make a mess of things with my brothers for a long time. You're not getting any younger. Don't you think it's time to really, really fight to win them back? Even if you don't get them back completely, at least open communication with them. At least try."

"This is how you feel? That I've made a mess of things?" Hector asked, taken aback.

Eric couldn't believe his father was asking him that. Of course he thought his dad had made a mess of things. And even worse, Eric's silence all these years had enabled him...but not any more. It was time he spoke up.

"Dad, you fucked up...in the worse way. But it's not over yet. Go get them...show them in some way that you care. Even if they all tell you to kick rocks, you have to at least try. You owe it to them," he emphasized.

Hector sat quietly, mulling over Eric's words. He was hurt by them, but that didn't make them any less true. 

Eric stood and reached into the back pocket of his jeans and handed his father the plane ticket. He cupped Hector's face and kissed him on the forehead.

"You can do this, pops. I'll see you at the wedding." 

As Eric walked to the door, he turned back once more to look at his father. His shoulders were stooped and he looked defeated. He really hoped his dad would get it together and begin to atone for his sins.

He thought about his own ceasefire with Rob and Ethan and admitted that he was stoked. Eric wanted Hector to know that feeling as well. But the old man would never experience it if he didn't pick himself up out of the doldrums and take ownership for his part of the past.

***

Wynston purposely left the door open and watched Terry warily. "I don't recall inviting you in," she said.

Terry leisurely walked around the apartment, satisfying his curiosity. He'd never been in Wynston's apartment before and often wondered how she lived. He took in the ritzy foyer, the nine foot ceilings with crown molding, the fireplace in the living room and the large balcony outside. 

He stopped at one of the bedrooms and looked inside. It was empty now, but he could tell that it was huge. She had always been an uppity bitch. Always liked living in places like this one with all her brand new shit. Wynston always looked down her nose at him when he tried to get them a deal on used items. 

Spoiled ass.

Terry wondered how the hell she could afford a place like this. It irked him that Wynston had been able to get all this without him. It was why he always made her pay. He knew she had to appear in court whenever a hearing was scheduled. He also knew how much she despised the custody battle, which was why he kept the heat on her.

Even better, he was in control...and Terry liked being in control more than anything else. 

"Where are you taking my son?" he asked suddenly.

Wynston took a deep, calming breath. She placed her hands on her hips, but what she really wanted to do was place them protectively over her stomach. She refused to do it, though, not wanting to make Terrence aware of her pregnancy.

Thank goodness she was wearing a shirt that gathered in the front and hid her rounding belly. Wynston also refused to get upset...Terry was not worth endangering her unborn child. 

"You have five seconds to get out of here, Terry. I don't even know why you bothered to slither out from under your rock." She spoke with as much venom as she could muster. She could not believe she had ever let this piece of shit touch her intimately.

Wynston could barely control her gag reflexes right then. Terry used to be a football player, but now his body had given way to fat...compliments of his sedentary life. He stood at 6'0 and looked unkempt. 

Unless Wynston missed her guess, he was wearing one of the many pairs of jeans she'd bought him more than six years ago. He was wearing the same, tired polo shirt he wore when they'd first met. His dreads were much longer and were riddled with new growth. It looked like he hadn't had them twisted in eons.

His mustache was a fuzzy joke...she'd always had more hair than he did. 

Yup, she had let this ass wipe touch her in places she didn't dare think of...not unless she wanted to spill her breakfast on the freshly vacuumed carpet.

Terry looked at her sideways. 

"Now is that any way to talk to your son's father? You see, I came to find out where you're taking my kid. That little stunt you pulled isn't going to fly. I have rights, and I want to see my boy. I forbid you to take him to South Carolina." Terry was referring to the way she had told him at the last minute that she and Terrence were moving.

Wynston didn't move a muscle. She focused on keeping her breathing even. Please hurry, Eric, she thought. Ironic how she hadn't wanted Eric to have any dealings with Terry, but now she wanted him to beat the shit out of her ex.

"Look, I'm done playing games with you. We both know you signed over your rights for money. But for my son's sake, I'm willing to work out an arrangement where you can have visitation on holidays and part of the school year. What's it gonna be?" she asked impatiently.

Terry gritted his teeth. He refused to take orders from this bitch.

"I took care of you for two years! I worked my butt off while you sat on your fat ass all day! Show me some fucking respect!" Terry exploded.

Wynston discreetly began to inch toward the door. He had never hit her before, but she wasn't taking any chances.

"I stayed home and took care of our sick son, Terry. But that's beside the point. Are you going to accept the visitation or not?" she asked calmly.

"Fuck no! I want my son in Baltimore where I have access to him. You have no right to take him out of the state. You'd best believe I'm going to drag your ass back to court and make your sorry ass bring my son back," he barked.

"Ok. Well you do that. It's time for you to leave now," Wynston said.

"Yeah? Well I'll leave when I damn well please, you fucking bi—" 

Terry suddenly trailed off.

Wynston had no idea what was happening. One minute she was fighting to remain calm. The next, Terry had stopped in the middle of his insults as a blur sped past her. 

Surprised, Wynston watched as Eric's huge fist connected with Terry's jaw. 

"Lord have mercy," she muttered as her heart leapt. She hurriedly closed the door and locked it, not wanting anybody to hear the commotion and come in to find Eric beating the shit out of Terry.

She pulled herself up onto the kitchen counter facing the living room and sat watching her man defend her honor. Wynston wasn't about to upset her baby by yelling, and she sure as hell wasn't going to try and break it up.

"Yo man, who the fuck are you?!" Terry managed to get out. 

Of course Eric didn't bother to answer. He grabbed Terry by the collar and slammed him against the wall, making Wynston flinch. 

Eric's fist was battering Terry's beer gut to the point that Wynston fully expected her ex to start coughing up blood. 

Then he began placing short, powerful jabs to Terry's ribs.

"Don't kill him, sweetie," Wynston called.

Thankfully, Eric heard and quit his assault. He jerked the offensive man up against the wall by the collar.

If Wynston hadn't known Eric, she would be terrified by what she was seeing. His face was completely red, veins were popping out all over his forehead, neck and arms, and he was breathing like an agitated bull. 

There was not one glimpse of the laid-back, loving man she knew.

Wynston had only seen him like this once before; and that was at the bank when Eric had fought Rob. She knew that Eric would never turn that ferocious temper on her, but it didn't make him any less frightening.

"I'm going to say this to you only once you fucking piece of shit," Eric growled as he towered over her ex. His face was mere inches away from Terry's.

"Don't you EVER talk to my woman that way, do you understand me, bitch?!"

Wynston almost laughed. She'd lost count of how many times she'd called Terry the same thing during the course of their relationship. And his facial expression in that moment was priceless.

"I got you, man...y-yeah," Terry stuttered.

"Now you took my money so I expect you to keep to your end of the bargain," Eric said lowly.

Terry's eyes stretched in confusion. He'd never taken money from this man.

"He's talking about that $10,000, Terry," Wynston informed him. She swung her legs back in forth, enjoying the whole scene tremendously. She wondered briefly if that made her a bad person. 

"Who cares," she mumbled. Terry had whooped her ass in every manner except physically for years. It was time he got his.

"You mean that money came from you?" Terry asked, wheezing.

"Damn right, you fucker. Sweetheart, what are your terms?" Eric asked.

"Well, I was TRYING to say that despite the fact that Terry turned over his rights, I still want Terrence to know his father. I think if we share holidays and summers, things will be great," Wynston said cheerfully.

Eric was glaring at Terry the entire time. "You got any problems with that?" he asked menacingly.

"N-nah man. That's perfect!" Terry squeaked.

"Good," Eric and Wynston said in unison.

"Now get the fuck out. And if you so much as think about going back to the courts, I will produce those papers you signed turning over your rights for the money. Then I'll kill you with my fucking bare hands," Eric threatened.

That last warning even made Wynston shiver.

She and Eric watched as Terry practically ran to the door. Wynston was tickled when he couldn't work the locks. After a moment, it became too painful to watch. She giggled as Terry kept locking and unlocking the door, never turning the knob when all the bolts were unlocked.

The icing on the cake was the way Terry's hands trembled each time he reached up and fiddled with the top lock. 

When Eric simply stood there with his hands on his hips, Wynston lost the battle. He was looking like Terry was the biggest idiot in the world. She began laughing so hard, her side ached. 

"Baby, please!" she gasped.

Eric shook his head and casually walked to the door. "Let me help you with that, princess," he said to Terry.

Behind him, Wynston doubled over with laughter, trying her best to breathe.

Eric stared at Terry while he deliberately flipped the locks and opened the door. 

This time Terry did run. 

Closing the door and coming to stand in front of Wynston, Eric looked her over to make sure she wasn't hurt. He wasn't sure what all had happened. When he'd heard Terry hurling those insults at Wynston, Eric had completely lost it.

"Are you okay, sweetheart? He didn't hurt you did he?" he asked worriedly.

Wynston took his bruised hands in hers and kissed the knuckles. "No, I'm fine. He was all talk, thank goodness."

She wrapped her good arm around Eric's neck. Her other one was paining her today.

Wynston gently kissed Eric on the chin, then his nose and then his lips. "You're a thug," she whispered.

"Are you mad?" he asked.

"Mad because you defended me?! Hell no!" Wynston exclaimed. "The whole time I was praying for you to hurry up and get here!"

"Yeah, I know. I got caught up talking to my dad. He and Rob spoke, but I'll tell you about that later. Right now let's just get outta here."

"Wait, hold on a sec. You forgot to mention that there were papers involved with Terry. I didn't know he signed something," Wynston said.

"Did I forget to mention that?" Eric answered innocently.

She narrowed her eyes at him. Wynston didn't know what this was about, but she definitely knew he was up to something.

"Spill it," she said.

"I wanted you to trust me. Trust that I know what I'm doing and that I'll never do anything to hurt you. I gave Terry the money, but what I wanted most was proof that he took it and turned over his rights as a father. No court in the world will ignore that document," Eric explained. "It puts a leash on him."

"Wow. I can't believe he was stupid enough to sign it!" Wynston said. "But far be it from me to look the gift horse in the mouth! Thank you, honey. I'm sorry I didn't trust you before. I do now...completely," she said shyly.

"That's better. Now let's go!"

Wynston picked up her dress and shoes while Eric grabbed her luggage. She did her best to hide her wedding dress from him. She didn't want him to see it just yet. Grabbing her keys from the counter, Wynston looked around one last time.

She bid the apartment and the lonely, difficult life she'd led goodbye. Without a backward glance, she walked out the door and into her future.

***

On the day of Eric and Wynston's wedding, there was a lot of bustling in their new home. Wynston, her mother, Yuliana, Lacey and T.J. were at the new house getting ready for the ceremony.

Even though there was still much unpacking and buying to do, they had done enough to make the house livable. 

While the women had stayed at the new house, the men were all at the other house.

Wynston had wanted to keep some tradition and sleep in separate places the night before the wedding. So she hadn't seen Eric since the day before and couldn't wait to be joined with him again.

They each had had their bachelor and bachelorette parties. Wynston and the other women had spent a quiet evening together with lots of food and sparkling grape juice in champagne flutes. 

The older women had told stories about their love lives and had instructed on how to please a man sexually. "My gag reflexes aren't the best right now, Ma. Are you sure you want to pursue this line of conversation?" Wynston had asked.

"I completely co-sign on that," Lacey had said, making the women laugh.

So instead, Yuliana and Sharon had given sage advice on how a wife had to pick her battles and how to stay with a man when the going got tough.

On the men's side, Bo had taken Eric, Hector, Wynston's father Matthew and some other friends out for dinner and drinks. Of course there wouldn't be a typical bachelor party with Matthew hanging around...at least Wynston didn't think her dad would allow a stripper.

She was glad her father and Eric would have time to bond. 

Wynston wanted her father to see what a great man she was marrying. But she and Eric needn't have worried about the impression he would make on her parents, though. Turns out they loved him. 

In their eyes, Eric was light years away from Terry; and they had been won over by the way Eric had protected their baby girl from day one.

So now Wynston stood in front of the mirror and admired her reflection. She felt completely beautiful. Her face had been made up in subtle tones by a make-up artist. She absolutely loved her smoky eyes.

Thanks to the prenatal vitamins, her hair had grown much longer and thicker. It had been styled with big curls gently cascading about her face.

The dress fit wonderfully and her pink, satin heels matched perfectly. When her mother came into the room, she breathed a sigh and immediately began to tear up.

"MA!" Wynston shrieked. "You're gonna make me cry and ruin my smoky eyes!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Sharon said. "I quit right now. I'm just so happy for you, baby girl. You couldn't have found a better man. That boy is crazy about you, you know."

"I know, ma. I'm crazy about him, too," Wynston whispered.

"Now, let me take a look at my baby," Sharon said, dabbing a Kleenex at her own wet eyes.

"Girl you got it all from your mama," she quipped.

Sharon wasn't far off the mark. She had aged very, very well which made Wynston look more like a sister than daughter. Wynston had always hoped that she would age the way her mother did. 

Sharon Grey was a classy woman with shoulder-length salt and pepper hair that she always kept neatly coiffed. Her chocolate complexion matched Wynston's and she was a few inches shorter than her daughter.

Her physique was trim and she always wore the trendiest clothing that was appropriate for a woman of 55 years.

Today, she wore a silver gray chiffon pantsuit that was very tasteful and sophisticated. 

"You look gorgeous, Mama," Wynston said, holding her close.

"Thank you, baby, but you are the gorgeous one. When that man sees you, he'll probably lose his mind," Sharon returned. "But enough of all that. I have something for you. Your father and I were going to give this to you on your 31st birthday, but...this is too special an occasion to pass up."

Sharon held up a long, velvet box. When Wynston opened it, her eyes glistened with tears.

"Grandma Wynston's pearls?!" she asked, fingering the beautiful earrings and bracelet. "But you love these!"

"I know. But I want you to have them...I want you to wear them today, too. It's your 'something old.'"

Wynston immediately took off her own earrings and replaced them with the pearls. She slid the bracelet on and once again looked at her reflection in the mirror.

"What do you think," she asked breathlessly.

"I think you look perfect," her mother said lovingly.

They both turned at the knock on the door. When Yuliana and Lacey stuck their heads in, they both gasped and rushed over to Wynston. As usual, Terrence was in Yuliana's arms, clinging to her. 

After Eric's birthday party, his mother had adopted Wynston as the daughter she never had. 

Before Yuliana and Hector had gotten on the plane back to Maryland, Yuliana had begged Wynston to keep in touch. She also wanted to have an active role in preparing for "her little one," as she was already calling the baby.

Yuliana had also taken a tremendous liking to Terrence.

For the few days she was in South Carolina, the older woman had shown remarkable patience and agility with the little boy as she chased him around the back yard.

As Wynston gazed at her little boy, she had to pat herself on the back. 

He was wearing a white dress shirt, a little bow tie, khakis and a navy blue jacket. The loafers Wynston had bought for him went along with the outfit perfectly. A few months ago, she had had a fit over the shoes when she saw them in a children's store. They were too adorable to leave behind so Wynston had bought them. 

She was glad that she had listened to her instincts.

"You look so beautiful," Yuliana exclaimed, pulling Wynston out of her thoughts. She swept her into a big hug. "Doesn't mommy look, beautiful, T.J.?!"

Terrence shyly nodded his head. "You look like a princess, mama," he whispered.

Wynston kissed his little cheeks and told him how handsome he looked. 

"Tissues! I need Tissues!" Yuliana exclaimed, fanning her face. She was fighting to not allow her tears to spill onto her carefully made up face.

Sharon knowingly supplied a box.

"Wow, girl. Eric is going to go crazy when he sees you!" Lacey said.

Wynston and Sharon laughed. 

"That seems to be the consensus. I hope so, anyway," Wynston said.

"Well he will. I have a little something for you, Hughes. It's your 'something blue,'" Lacey explained as she handed Wynston a small gift bag.

Cocking her head to the side, Wynston looked curiously at Lacey. What she pulled out was a cute, satin garter. It was Robin's Egg Blue with tiny, white ribbons. She quickly slipped it on slightly above her knee and laughed when all the women made catcalls. 

"And now your 'something borrowed," Yuliana said producing her lucky sixpence. Wynston stepped out of her heels and allowed Yuliana to drop the coin inside.

"Okay. Now all I need is something new. Oh my gosh...I forgot to get something new!"

"About that," Lacey said. "Here. Eric just told me to give this to you. He wouldn't say anymore, though. Do you know what it's for?"

Wynston held out her hand as Lacey pressed a key ring onto her palm. There were two brand new keys on the ring.

"Keys?" she asked, wrinkling her nose. She looked around at everybody in the room, but none of the women had any answers.




Perfume Ch. 09



"What about you, Squirt? Do you know what these keys are for?" Wynston asked her son.

But of course, Terrence was no help either. He just shrugged his shoulders and clung to Yuliana.

"Hm. Well, I guess I'll find out later," Wynston said.

She turned once more and gazed at herself in the mirror. Taking a deep breath, she glanced at the clock on the wall. It was time to go. 

"Well...let's make this happen!" she said. And they all excitedly left the bedroom.

***

The women and Terrence all rushed out of the house and toward Eric's Tahoe. 

Each time Wynston saw his tag, she smirked. It simply said, "RICAN." The truth was Wynston was ecstatic. She herself had wanted a black Tahoe, but her money could only buy her an Explorer. 

Eric didn't know it yet, but she fully intended to drive his SUV every chance she got.

"Okay, who's going to drive this thing?" Yuliana asked, eyeing the big truck.

Everyone turned to look at Wynston.

She rolled her eyes and muttered to herself about how nobody knew how to treat a bride...a pregnant one at that. 

"Just get in," she grumbled as she climbed into the driver's seat.

By the time they pulled into the parking lot of the courthouse, Wynston's heart was beating triple time. She was so nervous!

She looked around and didn't see the men anywhere. Good. She wanted to get inside before Eric saw her.

The women all made a beeline for the building and managed to get inside without running into the men.

They had only been waiting for a few minutes when they heard several footfalls coming toward them. The women turned in time to see their gorgeous men striding purposefully toward them. Eric was in the lead and damned if he didn't look good.

And determined.

As Wynston stood in the middle of the women, she couldn't do anything but stare at her man. He looked like a celebrity, actually. The gray suit he wore had been tailored perfectly to his tall, muscular physique.

The white dress shirt beneath his jacket was crisp, and clean. His satin tie and matching kerchief was the same purple of Wynston's dress. Eric had obviously gotten a haircut and his facial hair had been trimmed, too. 

The man knew how to dress is ass off...and he was about to charge her, too. Wynston knew that look in his eyes better than anybody else. Unlike the previous times when she had wanted to run away from his intensity, she stood her ground.

She now embraced Eric's powerful ardor and couldn't wait to be swept up by him. When he would've reached for her, both Sharon and Yuliana stood between the two and intercepted him. 

Wynston's growl was followed by Eric's. 

"Son, doesn't your bride look beautiful? Isn't her MAKE-UP flawless?" Yuliana asked.

"Yes, and Wynnie, you wouldn't want to smear that flawless make-up all over Eric's nice shirt, would you?" Sharon asked.

The women were silently telling them to chill.

"You look beautiful, baby," Eric said, his eyes never leaving Wynston.

"I would hump you right here if these two women weren't blocking us," Wynston said breathlessly, her eyes wide.

Eric's face broke into a huge smile as everyone else grimaced at Wynston's blunt honesty.

"I love you ladies dearly, but if you don't allow me near my wife I will have no choice but to physically extract you," Eric warned.

Yuliana sighed while Sharon rolled her eyes. They both knew he meant it. "Just contain yourself until the ceremony is over. It's only a few more minutes and then you can paw each other as husband and wife," Sharon pleaded.

"Fine, Mama," Wynston said impatiently.

Finally, the mothers moved allowing Eric and Wynston to close the gap. Miraculously, all Eric did was place Wynston's arm through his and kissed her cheek. "You look stunning," he whispered.

Just then, the justice called their names and everyone filed into the courtroom.

The ceremony was short, and to the point. It lacked the frills of a regular church wedding, but the meaning behind it was just as powerful. There was nothing more important than making their marriage "official," so the ceremony served its purpose for Eric and Wynston.

Eric had written his own vows, and by the time he was done, there wasn't a woman in the room with a dry eye...even some of the men got misty-eyed.

Likewise, Wynston expressed her feelings for Eric in her own words which made his heart squeeze with the sweetness of it. 

When it was time to exchange rings, Wynston surprised Eric with a simple, white gold band she had secretly purchased for him. The inscription was also very simple: I trust you, it read.

When they were pronounced husband and wife, the newlyweds mauled each other in front of the justice and their guests amid whistles, catcalls and applause. After signing the necessary documents and posing for pictures, everyone left the courthouse and filed into their cars.

Eric helped his wife into the passenger side of his SUV and instructed the others to meet them at the Charleston Place Hotel for the evening reception. They had reserved the Pavilion ballroom for the intimate dinner, which was an amazing room with tall ceilings, chandeliers and an outdoor garden. 

When Eric and Wynston pulled off, they rode along the Summerville streets in silence. Their fingers twined, the couple basked in the glow of their recent nuptials.

"Where are we going?" Wynston asked as she kissed the back of Eric's hand. They had missed their turn to go to the hotel.

"I have a surprise for you. It's your 'something new.' Did you bring those keys Lacey gave you?" he asked.

Wynston fished the keys out of her clutch. 

Finally, they pulled up in front of a small shop with a lot of clear glass windows. Wynston looked at Eric dubiously when he got out of the truck and came around to open her door.

"Eric, what's going on?" she asked.

Silently, he led her to the door and instructed her to unlock it. When she did, she turned to look at Eric and her face broke into a huge grin. "You bought a shop?!" she asked.

"I sure did. Do you like it?" 

Wynston looked around. It looked kind of small. She had no idea where he planned to put his furniture when he was done building. Maybe there was something she was missing.

"Yeah, I do. But the question is do YOU like it? Where will you put your furniture?" she asked.

Eric looked at her for a moment. He loved the stuffing out of this woman, but she could be slow sometimes. It had completely gone over her head what the building was for. He gently took her hand and walked her around the place. 

"See, I think a counter right here would be perfect. Maybe a couple chairs and tables here and here...that's if you want people to stay. If you don't, we can eliminate the tables and chairs. I'm thinking a huge glass casement with enough room to display your items right here, and maybe a mounted flat screen up there."

As Eric explained "his vision," Wynston stared at the places he had motioned to with complete confusion. She was lost and didn't have a clue what Eric was talking about.

"You still don't know, baby girl?" he asked.

Wynston shook her head and shrugged her shoulders.

"This is your bakery. I bought it as a wedding gift. When you're ready, you—"

Eric trailed off when Wynston screamed and started jumping up and down...then she remembered their baby. "ERIC YOU BOUGHT THIS FOR ME?!?!?!" she cried.

"Well good morning, sunshine," Eric drawled as she finally caught up. He lazily leaned against the wall and watched while Wynston danced a little jig and screamed more gibberish. She was the cutest thing he'd ever seen.

"So NOW tell me what you think," he said, wanting more compliments and praise.

Wynston happily obliged. "I think you're crazy and so wonderful and I couldn't ever be happier and you're still too good to be true and I love you with my soul and I don't ever want to do anything to disappoint you because you've been SO good to me!" When she finished, she was completely out of breath.

Eric grinned. This reaction was more like it. He liked the way her words made him feel.

***

When they locked up and made their way to the hotel, Wynston talked nonstop about the bakery. She was beyond stoked and was brimming with ideas. Eric would be her investor – she had insisted – and she couldn't wait to get to work on decorations and creating different flavors of cakes and cupcakes.

They finally arrived at the Pavilion room and were astounded by its beauty. The room was the smallest of all the ballrooms, but it was still grand. The setting was cozy and intimate, the lights low and ambient. Each French door that led to the outside garden had been thrown open, allowing the fragrant smell of blooms to enter the room.

The hotel staff had gone above and beyond Eric and Wynston's expectations. There were several tables that had been decorated with fluffy, cream tablecloths. Folded intricately atop the tablecloths were gold and cream-colored, cloth napkins. 

Bouquets of summer flowers in tall vases had been used as centerpieces; and ornate china and gold-rimmed wine glasses had been used as place settings. 

The hired band played quietly, entertaining the wedding guests. Eric and Wynston had also hired a DJ to relieve the band later on that evening.

Their family and friends had already arrived and were waiting patiently for the bride and groom. It was a small party of about 25, and it was perfect. Only the people who meant the world to them were present. 

As Wynston and Eric walked in, everyone clapped and whistled. 

In the spirit of tradition, the band began to play a song for their first dance. It was Norah Jones' "The Nearness of You." As the husband and wife glided across the floor, they were lost in the romance of the evening. Wynston could hardly believe she was married, and to such a wonderful man!

"I'm in love with you, you know...if I haven't already told you," Wynston whispered.

"I think you told me once or something," Eric said innocently.

She pretended to be shocked, knowing full well that he was fibbing. "Only once??? Well, forgive me, darling. I'm in love with you, I'm in love with you, I'm in love with you," she proclaimed.

"Not bad. But I need to hear it every day, once in the morning and once at night. And maybe five or six times throughout the day. Feel free to say it more than that if the mood strikes you," Eric instructed.

"Consider it done. What else?"

"And throw in some kisses, too; and of course I'm going to need sex five or six times a week. I'll let you know if I think of anything else." Before Wynston could protest the amount of sex, Eric proceeded to curl her toes with a deep kiss. 

"GET A ROOM," someone bellowed, making everyone laugh. Wynston and Eric were positive it was Bo.

When the band played "The Way You Look Tonight," other couples made their way onto the floor and danced slowly to the music. Eric watched his father and mother take to the floor as well. 

He experienced a twinge of regret as he gazed at them.

It may have been selfish, but part of him would always hope against hope that his parents would find their way back to each other. Eric was well aware that his dad still loved his mom; and even though she never mentioned it, it was plain as day that Yuliana still loved Hector.

But the situation had been entirely hopeless. His father had caused a lot of people pain, and Eric didn't know how Hector's story would end. He did hope, though...he hoped his dad would make a strong comeback and at least begin to atone for his mistakes.

And maybe, just maybe his sons could begin to heal...and maybe there was even a chance for Hector and Yuliana to reconcile.

Sensing a change in Eric, Wynston looked up and followed his gaze. She watched Hector and Yuliana and immediately felt sorry for them and most of all for Eric. 

Even though she and Eric had not spoken a whole lot on the subject of his parents, Wynston knew he silently hoped they would get back together. Wasn't that what most children hoped for when their parents split? 

There had even been a few times when Terrence had asked about her own relationship with Terry. So Wynston knew firsthand that those kinds of situations were never easy...no matter how old the children were.

"You really want them to get back together, huh?" she asked.

Eric looked down at her with a wistful expression that made him look like a little boy. It nearly broke her heart.

"I wish they would, yes," he murmured. "I don't even know if I have the right. So many people were hurt because of my father. Still, I want to see him happy. Is that wrong?"

"Of course not. Think of it this way, what kind of person would you be if you didn't want your dad to be happy? You guys' past is a mess, I get that. But...I don't know; I want to see your parents happy, too. If I had a magic wand to clean it all up, I would. You, Hector and your brothers would live happily ever after and your dad and Yuliana would get married and have the fairytale ending."

"That makes two of us...I don't know about the magic wand bit, but I agree with the rest," Eric joked. "But listen, this is way too heavy for the occasion. I just married the most beautiful woman in the world and I want to enjoy her."

"So enjoy me then," Wynston challenged, kissing the tip of his nose. 

And Eric did just that. They ate and celebrated each other. There were a ridiculous number of toasts to the bride and groom; and the more people drank the more absurd their toasts became. 

Next, Eric and Wynston cut the wedding cake. 

Wynston had ordered a very simple three-tiered cake with fondant. She had chosen yellow marble, red velvet and devils food chocolate cake. The hotel had outdone themselves with the table decorations for the cake as well. 

It sat atop a gathered lavender cloth, and white rose petals had been scattered along the tops of the cloth.

As Eric and Wynston cut the cake and fed it to each other, Eric leaned down to whisper in Wynston's ear. "Your cake would kick this cake's ass," he said.

Wynston beamed. She didn't know if he was lying or not, but it was one of the sweetest things he could've said to her.

When it was time to throw the bouquet, Wynston playfully turned her back and pretended like she would toss it. Then, with a twinkle in her eyes, she walked up to Yuliana, gave her a great, big hug, and presented her with the flowers.

Next, Eric got to remove Wynston's garter, but since their parents were there, he kept it PG-rated. Following in Wynston's footsteps, he walked up to his father and snapped the garter into place around Hector's head. 

Eric laughed when his dad gave two thumbs up signs and when his mother blushed. 

His parents took his and Wynston's place at the center of the room with Yuliana on the chair and Hector kneeling before her. Hector knew that Yuliana would never forgive him if he made a spectacle of them, so he also kept it respectable.

All of a sudden, the DJ played Michael Jackson's "Don't Stop 'Til You Get Enough," making the group go ballistic. Young and old alike charged onto the floor and danced without inhibition. 

As a matter of fact, the dancing got downright silly.

Lacey had waddled onto the floor, her huge baby bump swinging back and forth as she danced to the beat of the music. Bo was never too far from her, and brought back some of the ridiculous 80's dance moves they all did as children. 

Not to be outdone, Terrence shook his little rump and danced completely out of rhythm.

Eric was the worst one of them all.

He had long since removed his jacket. With his shirt unbuttoned to his chest, and his tie hanging loosely around his neck, Eric did his best Michael Jackson moves...which turned out not to be so good.

Delighted, Wynston laughed along with their family and friends as they all watched Eric's goofy homage to Michael Jackson. She'd never seen this side of him before.

Lord have mercy, my baby cannot dance, Wynston thought. Then Eric shimmied over to her and grabbed her hands, inviting her to dance with him. 

At first, she resisted. But then she thought if Eric could be silly and carefree, so could she. 

So Wynston danced outrageously alongside Eric, doing the robot, the cabbage patch and the snake. And when she did her best rendition of the Moonwalk, even Eric shook his head at how crappy it was.

But it was all in good fun. 

Finally, when the night came to an end and it was time to leave, Wynston embraced a sleepy Terrence and rained kisses all over his little face.

Amidst a sea of well-wishes, Eric and Wynston left the ballroom. As they got on the elevators, Wynston couldn't contain her yawns...she was so tired. The pregnancy was really starting to take a toll on her.

She felt bad because they were about to go on their honeymoon and she could barely keep her eyes open. Maybe she would get some sleep on the plane.

That was another thing. She dreaded getting on a flight anywhere. Wynston was approaching her fifth month of pregnancy and all she wanted to do was lounge around with Eric, sleep, make love, eat and spend more time with Eric.

Whatever he had planned for them, she would slap a smile on her face and enjoy it, no matter how tired she was. Hurting his feelings was not an option.

As Wynston leaned against Eric with her head on his chest, she realized that they had been on the elevator much longer than they should've been.

When the elevator kept going up, she looked at Eric. "Where are we going?" she asked looking at him suspiciously.

"We're going on our honeymoon," he replied.

As if he hadn't already blown her mind with the bakery, Eric proceeded to lead Wynston onto the club floor of the hotel. "Remember when Bo told us to get a room?" he asked.

He inserted the key card into the lock and swung the door open. They were met with one of the hotel's luxurious one bedroom parlor suites. When they walked into the foyer, the living room was the first thing that came into view.

Rich mahogany furniture met with cream and olive décor; and a chandelier hung elegantly over an 8-person dining table, giving the place an intimate, but swanky feel. There were two French doors that led onto a balcony, and the parlor led to an adjoining bedroom.

Inside the bedroom were a large, king size walk-in closet, and an elegant bathroom with a gigantic garden tub. The room also boasted another set of French doors which led outside onto the balcony.

Rose petals had been peppered onto the big, four-poster bed and there was a cart with chilled wine, strawberries and delicious-looking desserts.

"Wine?!" Wynston said as she walked to the cart. What she saw made her laugh. It was a bottle of the same sparkling grape juice she'd had during her bachelorette party.

"You thought of everything, didn't you?" she asked Eric in wonder.

"I tried. I've only been agonizing over this for a few weeks," he said jokingly.

"Everything is perfect Eric, really. I was afraid I'd have to endure another flight! Now I get to stay locked up in here with you without any distractions?! This is the PERFECT honeymoon," she gushed.

"I'm glad you're happy. Now let's get those clothes off of you. I want to make love to my wife," he murmured.

Wynston dutifully obeyed.

Eric's lovemaking was passionate and intense as they consummated their marriage. He was tender and mindful of their child, and patient as he waited for Wynston to reach her climax.

When it was Eric's turn to orgasm, he exploded deep inside Wynston's silky walls, overwhelmed by how tightly her body cradled his cock. And when he floated down from the waves of their ardor, Eric became aware that Wynston was crying.

Afraid that he had been too rough, he tilted her face upward. "What's the matter, baby? Did I hurt you?" he asked. 

Concern was laced all through his deep voice.




Perfume Ch. 09



"No, Eric, I'm not hurt. You were wonderful. I'm...these are happy tears," she whispered. "You make me so happy."

Breathing a sigh of relief, he cradled her in his arms and placed warm kisses all over her face. "I do all this because you make me happy, too; and I'm in love with you. Remember that," Eric said quietly.

Wynston snuggled deep into the downy softness of the bedding, laid her head on Eric's chest and promptly fell asleep. 

***

For weeks now, Rob had searched for Ethan to no avail. He was rather proud of his baby brother. It meant Rob had taught him well how to stay hidden. 

After his trip to Switzerland, Rob had made his way to Amsterdam; but Ethan's trail had run cold. Rob knew he'd definitely been there, but Ethan was long gone.

At that point, he'd sat in the small bistro and gazed at the map of Europe. Where the fuck had his brother gone?

"You are American?" a heavily accented voice asked, interrupting his thoughts. At first, Rob scowled at the woman for barging in on him. Then he closed his eyes and remembered he was turning over a new leaf.

"Yes I am," his deep voice rumbled.

"There seems to be a lot of you here recently, even more than usual...and with maps," she said as she poured a cup of coffee.

"Only a few weeks ago one broke my heart. Took me to his bed and when I awake, I find he is gone. Tell me, this is a common, American practice?" she asked, sounding wounded.

Rob really didn't have time for this bullshit. What the fuck did he look like, some relationship expert? 

"It's universal," he replied. "Men are the same everywhere."

"Hm," she mumbled. "This man, Ethan, seemed so sweet. He was a bit boyish and I did not have thought him to love me and then leave. Bastard. Must have been that Black woman he was with. Always, she was with him."

She sucked her teeth and was about to leave when Rob caught her wrist. 

"Tell me more about this Ethan," he said. As incentive, he reached into his wallet and produced a crisp 50 Euro note. He discreetly placed it on the table and slid it toward the waitress.

The woman's eyes lit with interest as she looked over her shoulder and sat down at the table...but not before tucking the money securely into her bra. "What is it you would like to know?"

"Did this man mention where he was going next?" Rob asked.

"France. I remember because he and the Black woman were looking at a map of Europe. I overheard that woman say she could now afford to go anywhere she wanted; and that she had wanted to visit Paris all her life," the waitress explained.

Rob nodded and mulled over this new bit of information. "How long ago was this?" he asked.

"Maybe three weeks. Not more."

"Good. And was there anyone else with them? Another male perhaps?" Rob asked.

"No...no one. Why are you asking these questions? You will not hurt him will you?" The woman had begun to squirm uneasily.

Rob watched her for a moment and decided to ease her fears. "No, I'm not going to hurt him. He's family."

He placed a 5 Euro note on the table for the coffee and left.

***

Ethan took a deep breath and looked at Octavia. If he wasn't so numb, he'd feel sorry for her. 

"If you hear gunshots, hit the floor," he said.

Octavia paled.

"It was a joke. Sorry. Just stay here while I go talk to him. Be right back," Ethan said not so reassuringly.

He walked over to where Rob sat at the bar and took a seat near him.

Ethan was catching hell trying to read Rob's face. He thought maybe that was a good sign. Usually Rob's anger was blatant and there was no wondering whether or not he was pissed.

"How are you little brother?" Rob asked.

Ethan continued to eye him doubtfully. "I'm good...you?"

"Never been better. You know, that wasn't very nice what you did in Mexico," Rob said. He took a sip of his brandy.

Ethan's face became infused with red. "I – uh...I know, Rob. You—I just..."

"Calm yourself, Ethan. I deserved it."

Ethan looked up with surprise, half wondering if he'd heard correctly. "You deserved it?" he asked.

Rob looked down at the amber liquid and ran his finger around the rim of the glass. "Yeah, I deserved it. I treated you like trash...you didn't deserve that shit," Rob said quietly.

Ethan was amazed. 

"You mean you didn't come here to fuck me up?" he asked.

Rob chuckled. "Nah. It took you leaving me in that boat for me to realize what an asshole I've become. You're the last person I should've treated the way I did; and for that, I'm sorry."

He looked up at his baby brother, all the emotion and sorrow in his face.

Ethan immediately embraced his brother and ran his hand over his head affectionately.

The two men didn't speak for a moment as they both sat, enjoying each other's company. Ethan turned to look at Octavia. She would glance over at them every now and again...no doubt she was watching for a gun to be produced.

Ethan waved his hand at her and gave the thumbs up sign. 

She looked at him confused for a moment, but waited patiently for Ethan to rejoin her.

"You been in touch with Mike?" Ethan asked.

"Yeah. But you know we have to lay low. I did pose as his lawyer a few times over the phone. He's looking at serving 20 years," Rob replied.

"SHIT!" Ethan exclaimed. "What the fuck?! We have to go back there!"

"Yeah, I know. But we need a plan. I've already found him a lawyer. Should've been in contact with Mike by now. I have to go back in order to pay the man and make sure everything's on the up and up. You joining me?" Rob asked.

"Hell yeah!" Ethan said. There was no way he would leave Mike behind to suffer for something they all had a part in. "If only that dumbass hadn't shot Wynston."

Rob looked at Ethan sharply. "You're on a first name basis with her?"

Ethan nodded. "Yeah. I stopped by Eric's to talk to him the day after all that shit went down. I was in the lighthouse that night, too. I was the one who drugged Mike, but I didn't use enough aspirin. So when he woke up, he popped her. He was obviously aiming for Eric, but Wynston got in the way."

Rob breathed deeply. His little brother was proving himself to be full of surprises.

"I almost got arrested, myself. Apparently Eric is best friends with the sheriff. He was going to arrest me but Eric stopped him," Ethan continued.

Rob nodded his head, listening to the story. "I had a little chat with Eric myself," he said. 

"I know," Ethan replied. "That's the day I spoke to him, too. We uh, talked a little bit about burying the hatchet."

Ethan once again fidgeted in his seat. He didn't know how generous this new Rob was going to be.

Seeing his discomfort, Rob clapped him on the shoulder. "So did I baby brother. I'm done with all that shit."

Ethan's jaw dropped. "I wondered what you'd said to him. You mean you two are cool now?!"

Rob shrugged. "I guess. We're not friends, but...we're better."

"I'm proud of you man. That shit was eating you alive."

As Ethan regarded his brother, he was glad to hear that Rob was changing for the better. 

"I spoke to Hector, too," Rob said quietly. "Now THAT shit didn't go well at all."

As Rob proceeded to tell Ethan about his conversation with their father, Ethan was completely engrossed in what Rob was saying. His eyebrows snapped together when Rob recounted what he said to Hector.

When Rob finished, Ethan just sat there for a moment. He was surprised Hector was alive after the things Rob had said to the old man. Ethan idly wondered if their father had had a stroke or heart attack after the harsh words.

"You may very well have killed the old man," he murmured. "At least you stuck up for us. I think – I think when we go back, I'm going to visit him. I'm ready to put all this shit behind me," Ethan said warily.

He wanted Rob to know up front what his intentions were. Ethan just wasn't sure how his big brother would react.

"Do what you feel is best. As for me, I'm just not sure when I'll be ready to forgive him. I'm not saying never...just not now," Rob said.

Ethan nodded and once again looked over his shoulder at Octavia. "I'd better get back to her. She's probably pissed her panties by now. She thought you'd come to kill me. Want to join us?" he asked.

Rob looked in Octavia's direction and asked the obvious question. 

"Are you fucking her?" 

Ethan guffawed. "Nah, man. My brother's leftovers are off limits...at least for me, anyway. Something you might want to consider."

Rob smiled at the jab. "Touché." 

He looked over at Octavia once more. He did owe her an apology. Might as well get it over with, he thought. At this rate, he would never be done with all these fucking apologies.

Rob downed the rest of his brandy and nodded his head. Dropping a Euro note onto the bar, he followed Ethan toward the table. 

"Hey, what did you end up doing with that 10 mil?" he asked curiously. He didn't need the money but wanted to know what Ethan had done with it. Rob was sure it was going to be something wild.

Ethan didn't disappoint.

He glanced at Rob and stuck his hands in his pockets. "I gave it to Eric as sort of a 'my bad,'" he said sheepishly.

For a moment, Rob just looked at Ethan as if he was insane. Then he did something he hadn't done in years. He laughed.

Ethan's eyebrows shot up. The sound was so raspy and unfamiliar that it made Ethan laugh as well. He couldn't recall the last time he'd heard Rob laugh. It was a very welcome sound.

When they got to the table, Octavia looked unsurely between Ethan and Rob with eyes rounded like saucers. It was amazing that she and Rob had been lovers. Now, it seemed as if they were strangers meeting for the first time.

She supposed that was an accurate description. It wasn't like she and Rob had ever talked. Their relationship had been purely physical. Neither had shared dreams and goals or their pasts; it was entirely Octavia who had made things more than they were. 

So yes, they were essentially strangers.

"It's okay, Octavia. He comes in peace," Ethan assured her.

She eyed Rob skeptically anyway.

Rob looked at her squarely in the eye and spoke quietly to her. "I got those cuff links and ties you'd bought me back in Mexico. I'll be sure to wear them first chance I get," Rob said.

Octavia simply nodded. She didn't know why, but she was choked up. Maybe because she had been hurt very badly that day when she'd found Rob and Lena together.

Rob looked down at the table, getting his thoughts together.

"I know our – relationship meant a lot to you. And I know you wanted more than I was willing to give. Even so, I should've been upfront with you and I shouldn't have hurt you the way I did," Rob said. He had tried to choose his words very carefully.

With widened eyes, Octavia stared at him. "You're apologizing?!" she asked.

Rob chuckled. "Am I that bad at it?" he returned.

"No, I just wasn't expecting that from you. I was expecting you to come with guns blazing."

"No, nothing like that. Like I said, I wanted to apologize for the pain I caused you...and the pain I was planning on causing," he said honestly.

"Thank you," Octavia whispered.

Proud of his brother, Ethan again clapped him on the back, grinning from ear-to-ear. "You keep this up, you just might make it into heaven," he teased.

For the second time that day, Rob laughed.

***

For one glorious week, Eric and Wynston spent their honeymoon in their quiet little oasis. They didn't do much of anything except make love, eat, sleep, laugh and talk. They bathed together in the huge garden tub and a few times they went out and walked along the Battery and boardwalk of Charleston Harbor. 

When it was time to get back to the real world, Wynston admitted that she was a little sad. 

Being able to spend that much uninterrupted time with Eric had been paradise, and she had gotten spoiled. But they had a baby to prepare for, so she sucked it up and got ready to put in a lot of hard work. 

And that's exactly what she and Eric did. 

They put in a ton of work and decorated the house the way they wanted. They ended up combining their furniture, so there wasn't a whole lot more they needed to buy...just a few items here and there. 

During the fifth month of Wynston's pregnancy, she and Eric learned that they were having a baby girl. So, Wynston immediately bought paint in soft, buttercup yellow and mint green. She had stayed away from the traditional pinks and purples, finding them to be too cliché. 

When they told their parents, the toys, clothes, stroller, crib and other special deliveries constantly found their way to the house. And by the time Wynston had a baby shower, the baby had everything she would ever need.

Wynston didn't complain...she knew the grandparents only wanted to help; and she found their smothering to be very endearing.

Thanks to all the help they received, the baby's room was done within two months, and Wynston was ecstatic. 

At the end of her final trimester, Wynston gave birth to little Eryn Summer Torres. 

Eryn had her father's complexion and her mother's big, doe eyes. Their golden color belonged to Eric, of course; and the eyes were framed with ridiculously long lashes. Her little head was full of dark, curly hair.

Eric called her their little masterpiece and was hopelessly in love with their little angel. 

Every chance he got, Eric held his daughter as if she was the most fragile thing in the world; and he spent many hours of the day just staring at her in wonder. 

He was an excellent helper, too. 

Wynston admitted to herself that she was afraid Eric would tell her to kick rocks whenever she asked him to feed the baby at night. Terry had promised that he would help with the baby, but after Wynston's C-section, he had left her high and dry. 

It had been mostly up to her to care for Terrence. Wynston could only count on one hand how many times Terry had helped.

But once again, Eric proved himself to be as different from Terry as night was from day. He allowed Wynston to sleep when she couldn't find the strength to get out of bed. 

One night in particular, Wynston heard the baby crying. "Just one second, precious," she had mumbled drowsily. 

She had instantly fallen back asleep. Later that morning, with the sun shining brightly through the windows, Wynston bolted upright in bed, remembering that the baby had cried at some point during the night.

She whipped the covers back and stumbled to the crib. 

It was empty...so was Eric's side of the bed. She padded hurriedly into the den and found Eric sitting on the floor with baby Eryn nestled against his shoulder. With his other hand, he was sketching furniture drawings in a pad on the floor.

He looked exhausted.

Never far away, Terrence sat beside Eric, eating cereal and milk while watching cartoons. "Eric can I hold the baby?" he chirped, never once looking away from his cartoons.

"Ummmm, maybe a little bit later if mommy says it's okay," Eric replied.

Relieved, Wynston grinned, leaning against the doorframe. As she watched her little family, she once again couldn't believe her luck. Eric was simply too good to be true.

She tiptoed quietly from the room and went to take a shower and throw on a t-shirt and a pair of cotton pants. Wynston wanted to relieve Eric so he could get some rest.

Freshly bathed and well-rested, she walked back into the den.

"HEY MOMMY," Terrence called. He scared the baby and caused Eryn to let out a lusty yelp. 

"Oops! Sorry," Terrence whispered, covering his mouth.

"It's okay, baby. Just try to remember to be a little quieter." Wynston said.

She caressed Terrence's head and sat on the couch beside Eric. Leaning over, she kissed him on the lips and took the baby off his hands.

"Thank you for juggling the kids for me. You, my darling husband need to sleep. I'll take over," she said.

"Thank you baby," he replied tiredly as he got up off the floor. "FYI, I was kinda out of it earlier. I'm not sure if I put cow's milk or breast milk in Terrence's cereal. Shouldn't hurt, right?" 

"ERIC!" Wynston shrieked. This time it was she who scared the baby.

"Mama! You suppose to remember to be a lil quieter!" Terrence exclaimed. He rolled his eyes as if Wynston understood nothing, and continued shoveling cereal into his mouth.

Wynston smirked and quieted Eryn, gently rocking her back and forth.

***Epilogue***

And so, Eric and Wynston lived their lives together, ruling their household with love, humor and passion.

They argued, and there were times when they wanted to strangle each other, but never once did they utter harsh words that could not be taken back. Their mutual respect for one another was too powerful for that. 

And when their fights were over, the two made up by making love, sweeping each other away with the tides of ecstasy.

Everyday, they laughed and confided in each other, knowing that their secrets were safe, tucked away in each other's hearts. Eric and Wynston were best friends and everything special to each other. 

Theirs was a singular bond that was rare. And they owed it all to fate and the intoxicating fragrance of Wynston's perfume.

***

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Wow, I can't believe this is it! It's been a long, tiring, exciting, wonderful adventure. Thank you so much for those of you who have stayed the course with me for the entire ride. Those e-mails and comments have kept me going long after I wanted to give up (and I thought about it, trust me).

There are some mean people in the world, and there were some hurtful comments/e-mails sent to me. But then I thought about those of you who build me up, and I finished "Perfume" just for you...I owed that to you.

Your enjoyment of my writing has encouraged me to keep story-telling. So this isn't the end for Eric and Wynston as Rob will be getting his own story. He and his brothers still have to work out issues with Hector. Also, Wynston still has to deal with that whole Detective Mowry mess. So this is not goodbye to Eric and Hughes, just a "See ya later" for now.

Special, special thanks to Brownskingurl. She listened to my problems and encouraged me; she really was my cheering section and I SO appreciate you, girl.

I'm writing other stories, so keep watching the Bio page for updates. I love you all, and I sincerely hope you enjoyed "Perfume."

Hugs,

LaLa



Perfume Ch. 02



AUTHOR'S NOTE: *Blushing* I am truly astounded by all the positive feedback from you all! I never thought Perfume would get this sort of response(no pressure)! I really do appreciate every one of you...even the ones who don't care for the story. 

This submission is split into two parts: Chapter Two Prologue and Chapter Two. I had originally submitted them separately, but the site rejected the prologue because it was too short...so I combined the two.

Please check out my Biography page as I will post updates on there. And as always, throw in that feedback! 

I give you Chapter Two...

LaLa

Chapter Two Prologue

Just as Eric opened his mouth to say something to the beauty in front of him, he caught a movement from the corner of his eye. As he strained to look outside the window, he was stunned. Was that -- couldn't be! 

His heartbeat kicked into overdrive. What the fuck should he do??? He looked over at the decrepit security guard. No help there. 

Eric didn't have much time to lose; and if he made a scene, people would definitely get hurt. He was sure of it.

Looking down at the woman in front of him, Eric felt possessive of her, and compelled to protect her. He wanted to keep her safe from what he was sure was about to happen. 

"Ma'am," he said urgently. "You have absolutely no reason to trust me, but it's imperative that you do just that." 

He didn't wait for a response but grabbed her hand and pulled her in the direction of the restrooms. 

***

Wynston didn't have any idea what was going on. She just knew this guy was extremely bold...gorgeous, but bold. As he dragged her to only God knew where, she wondered why the hell she didn't call to the security guard for help. 

An article she'd read a few years back sprang to mind. It had said that attractive people were trusted most and were considered to possess the best personal qualities, even if they really didn't. People didn't typically associate danger or bad behavior with a beautiful face.

While reading the article, Wynston had scoffed, wondering how people could be so ignorant that they would judge others solely on their appearance. 

Apparently, she was just as naïve! This man could be a rapist and/or murderer; and look at what she was doing. She was following him without so much as a peep! 

But more than that, she had sensed the urgency in him. One minute she was standing behind him, trying to get a look at his face. The next, he was turning around, pinning her with his unwavering gaze. He had just been about to say something to her when he looked over her head and tensed. 

This guy had said she needed to trust him. For what? What was going on???

Just as they made it to the restrooms, a commotion made Wynston look behind her. What she saw made her heart stop. 

She watched as four figures entered the bank. They were all dressed in black, wearing masks and toting guns. The bank was going to be robbed.

***

Chapter Two

Octavia Hall gave a big, fake smile as she finished a transaction for another customer. Once again, she thought of how much she hated this fucking job as a goody-two-shoes bank teller. 

She found succor in the fact that today she would be out of there for good. 

"You made it this far, girl. Don't blow it now," she mumbled to herself as she prepared to receive another customer.

Octavia looked out at the long line of patrons. 

Fuck!

As if reading her thoughts, Andrew, the other teller turned to her as his customer left.

"What is up with all these people here so early? Is today payday or something?" he asked.

"I have no idea," she muttered. 

Andrew was right. Any other morning, the bank would've seen less than a handful of customers. 

Of all days for this place to be packed!

It was more of Octavia's "luck." She was used to it.

An orphan, she was the 21st century's Annie, hard knocks life and all...except, no bald-headed millionaire had bailed her out. She had run away from her aunt's home when she'd turned eighteen, and had learned how to scrape in order to get by. 

But she was tired of eking out a living with odd jobs here and there; and she was tired of the bullshit life handed her. 

Octavia had learned early on that money ruled the world. It could buy anything...including an 18-year-old girl's body, she thought bitterly.

She closed her eyes against the darkness of her past. None of that mattered now. She was here for a reason, and nothing was going to stop her from reaching her goals. She had come too far.

***

Every day for the last year Octavia had come to this bank faithfully. She had dressed like a boring, goddamn librarian, wearing no make-up. She'd pulled her hair back in a bun, and wore phony bifocals to complete the look. 

She pretended to be shy, quiet and sweet...even her alias "Angela Reed" was uninteresting. Octavia had not used one day of leave time and had earned the bank manager's trust, which had been paramount. 

She'd done it all for two reasons. The first one was money.

Her boyfriend Greer had devised a plan for them to make millions. 

At 30-years-old he was damn near a genius; and pretty much a nerd. He was a couple inches shorter than her with a medium build. He wasn't muscular as he didn't work out.

Greer had blond hair and blue eyes, and often reminded Octavia of a big kid. There was nothing spectacular about his appearance; he was a typical White guy. 

More often than not, he was socially inept because his face was usually buried in a tech magazine or glued to a computer screen. So he didn't interact much with other people. 

He was always talking about some new gadget and how technology was advancing blah, blah, blah. 

But Octavia didn't mind, because she wasn't with him for his looks or social graces. 

Greer made a decent living fixing PCs, and he paid the bills and took care of her. Plus, she had the freedom to do whatever she wanted.

When they'd first met, she had warned Greer that she wasn't the faithful kind. She wouldn't be staying home to squeeze out a couple of brats; and she definitely wouldn't have dinner waiting. 

Octavia knew what she wanted, and it didn't involve being shackled down to one man.

Greer had accepted her as she was. 

He was grateful to have a gorgeous Black girl like herself on his arm. So he did what he had to in order to keep her.

This went along perfectly with their unspoken pact. She would play the part of loving girlfriend whenever they were together. Apart...well, all bets were off. She came and went as she pleased; no questions asked. 

The truth was, Octavia lived and breathed for dick. 

She was what most people considered a "slut"...she knew it and loved it. She didn't understand why society looked down their noses at women who loved sex. 

Men screwed whomever they wanted all the time. Why did she have to pretend to be a prude when she knew full well that on any given day, cock was more than likely going to be on the agenda? 

She didn't discriminate either. She screwed the Corporate dick, the Blue Collar dick, the Thug dick--you name the dick...she fucked it.

For the most part, her arrangement with Greer worked; except for those rare occasions when he beat her home and she came in smelling like sex. 

Then he would fly into a tantrum.

Octavia would then slide down to her knees, unzip his pants and blow him. After a few minutes, he would begin to shudder, coming into her mouth. All the while, Greer would carry on about how much he loved her. 

She would smile to herself and daintily wipe the come from her lips. 

Crisis averted. 

***

Octavia and Greer's relationship had been pretty boring until a year and a half ago.

He had shocked and exhilarated her when he walked into their apartment one particular evening, and told her about his plan. 

If they were patient, used a little smarts along with some of those same high-tech gadgets Greer always talked about, they could pull off a huge heist.

But it couldn't be just any bank. This one had to count. They would have to hit one of the giants...The National Bank of Baltimore.

At first Octavia had thought Greer was kidding. But the almost manic look in his blue eyes as he quietly charted his strategy had given her goose bumps. 

He was serious!

She'd never seen Greer so hungry before. It both frightened and enthralled her; and it made her pussy wet.

According to Greer, much of their success would hinge on her ability to get a job at the bank. That way, they could get all the information they needed like armored truck arrivals and departure times, surveillance camera positions, security guard info, police patrol car schedules, maps of the bank...all of it.

As he continued to speak, Greer mentioned a few other people he wanted to get involved with his plan. 

"Listen to what I'm saying, Tay," Greer had said, using her nickname. "If we can get my boys from the neighborhood to finance this, we're gonna get PAID!"

Octavia looked at him askance. Greer could be very naïve and trusting. 

"How do you know we can trust them, baby?" she had asked skeptically. "I mean, I understand you grew up with them, but people change."

He shook his head adamantly. "Nah, baby, you don't understand. These aren't just anybody I'm talking about. They're like family; and pulling these kinds of jobs is what they do. I helped them a couple times and got a small cut. But this time is different. This time is going to be big," he said passionately.

"Rob is the oldest and sort of like the leader. If I can get him to bite, we're home free, Tay!" Greer's excitement was infectious. 

She hoped he was right.

***

A few weeks later, she and Greer drove to Rob's home to go over their plans. As Greer maneuvered the car through the quiet neighborhood, Octavia's jaw dropped with delight. 

It was obvious that this part of town was exclusive. Green, manicured lawns led to sprawling homes. Two, three and four-car garages housed luxury cars and SUVs. The place exuded money.

As they pulled up to Rob's beautiful, traditional brick home, Greer glanced at Octavia, taking in her look of amazement. 

"Now you see what I'm fucking talkin' about, babe. This right here is what I want for us. We pull this shit off, first thing I'm doing is buying you one of these houses," Greer said.

Octavia leaned over and ran her fingers through his hair and smiled. 

"You're too good to me sometimes," she said softly.

Too bad she didn't love him, she thought, wistfully. She cared about him, but more than anything else, she simply tolerated Greer.

She wasn't about to tell him that, though. Octavia wanted in on this job; Greer was about to make her a very rich woman.

As they got out of the car, a tiny, older Black woman greeted them.

Greer gave her their names.

"Yes, Mr. Robert is expecting you," she said in her thick Island accent. 

As the maid led them inside the grand entry, Octavia looked around at the opulence of the place. 

In the foyer, they walked on exquisite marble flooring. There was recessed lighting everywhere, giving the house a soft, ambient glow. 

Big, expensive furniture perched on top of plush carpeting beyond tall French doors. 

The maid had gone to the left of an elegant, circular staircase, into a study of sorts.

Octavia and Greer could hear her announcing their presence. 

"Show them in, please, Sonya," a deep voice instructed politely.

As they were led into the study, Octavia thought about the irony of it all. This place definitely did not look like the home of a bank robber.

***

Things had started off well enough. 

When they had walked into the library, Rob stood up and came around his large desk to greet them. 

Octavia couldn't have been more surprised.

He didn't look anything the way she pictured. He was handsome, but had the look of a businessman...not a thief. She had expected him to be more--scruffy.

When Rob shook her hand, he stood a good few inches above her, his muscular physique impressive. His hair was a sandy brown and cut low. The gold stud in his ear seemed to sparkle.

His hazel eyes were direct. Under his gaze, Octavia felt exposed like he knew all her secrets.

There was no smile, no hint of friendliness; Rob was very brusque and no nonsense.

His younger brother Ethan was handsome as well. He had the same brown hair and golden-green eyes, but was the exact opposite in mannerism. He was much more personable and very quick to smile. 

Ethan was maybe about 20-years-old and was very flirtatious. When he had introduced himself to Octavia, he winked at her playfully. She liked him immediately. 

As they all sat, Greer had tried to reminisce about their childhood, but it was obvious that Rob wanted to get to why they were there.

"So tell me about this plan," he'd said abruptly.

Greer stuttered, thrown by Rob's curtness.

"Uh, y-yeah. Sure thing, Rob," he said, wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans.

"I've done a shit load of research on this. Basically, even though NBB is as big as it is, it sucks when it comes to security. I'm surprised it hasn't been hit before now; but I think people figure since it's so large, security must be tight."

Greer placed his portfolio on Rob's desk and began removing pictures, articles and blueprints, which all outlined how frail the bank's safekeeping was. It was practically an invitation for a robbery.

God bless the Internet.

As the men talked, Octavia took the opportunity to study Rob's face. He definitely was stern. Something about him turned her on, though; but she instinctively knew that he wouldn't be a pushover like Greer. This man was powerful, and was obviously used to being in control.

She was caught off guard when Rob suddenly looked up at her. She quickly lowered her eyes. 

Shit! No man had ever made her cower like that before! What was it about him?

"Octavia here has worked for a couple banks. So if we can get her on the inside, we get all the information we need to pull this off," Greer was saying.

"I have a friend in HR at the bank who owes me a favor. I can ask her to pull Octavia's application and get her in for an interview. Once that's done, I'm sure Octavia will be in," Greer said confidently.

At the mention of her name, Rob looked at her again. Her nipples immediately puckered under the heat of his scrutiny.

Greer continued talking, repeating some of the things he'd already said. Octavia tuned him out. That was another thing she didn't like about him; he talked too much and never knew when enough was enough. He often embarrassed her with his lack of sophistication.

For the third time, she looked up to find Rob's eyes on her. This time, she stared back, boldly challenging him. Rob raised an eyebrow and gave a slight nod.

One point for her.

Octavia could feel herself becoming wet, and wanted to climb on top of him right then and there and ride him until they both exploded.

He began to speak, interrupting Greer's rambling yet again. 

"Let's cut to the chase," he said in his quiet demeanor. "What's the pay off?"

Greer dropped his Ace card. "Ten million dollars...apiece."

The silence in the room was deafening. Octavia hadn't even known that much money was involved!

Rob sat back in his chair, quietly thinking. 

"This all sounds very interesting and lucrative," he said. "We actually have been considering NBB, but you're right. We didn't know their security system was this vulnerable. You've brought another dimension to the job." 

Greer beamed at the rear praise from Rob.

"I'll have my people research this. If everything is as you say, we'll make it happen," Rob said.

Greer was elated. "I'm telling you, man. Researching this has been my life for months. Your people are gonna see what I'm talking about," he assured.

Rob turned to his brother. "Ethan, tell Mike that we've spoken with Greer and I want to see him at the house."

"Gotcha," Ethan said as he took out his cell phone and began flipping through his contacts. 

"Greer," Rob said. "Once Mike gets here, I want you to explain everything to him the way you just did me. If he agrees this is a good investment, we're in."

Octavia silently prayed that this Mike would get on board. She believed Greer had mentioned that Mike was the middle brother. Whoever he was, she didn't like that her life was in his hands! What would they do if Mike wasn't interested?

"There's a well-stocked bar out there," Rob was saying. "I want you to drink and enjoy a cigar while I get to know Octavia. If we go forward with this plan, she'll need to know what's expected of her." 

Rob's gaze narrowed on her. "I want to be sure she's willing to give me everything I want."

Octavia didn't miss the double entendre.

"Ethan, would you show our guest to the bar, please?" Coming from Rob, it was more of a command than a request.

Ethan rolled his eyes and led an oblivious Greer to the bar, closing the study door. He hadn't missed the double meaning either: keep this dense prick busy while Rob fucked his girl.

***

As Ethan and Greer left the room, Rob got up and walked around to where Octavia was sitting. As he sat on the edge of the desk, he folded his arms.

"How old are you?" he asked.

Octavia smiled impishly. She knew she looked much younger than her twenty-seven years. 

"Old enough to know that you don't want to talk to me about any plans," she replied.

Rob nodded his approval. "Smart girl. Stand up," he ordered.

Octavia immediately obeyed. She couldn't contain the wave of excitement that washed over her. She didn't know why, but she felt compelled to do whatever this man told her to do.

Goose bumps peppered her flesh as Rob's gaze roamed over her body. She was glad she'd decided on the tiny, red halter dress that only came mid-thigh. The deep color was a sharp contrast to her almond skin, and showed off her small waist and gently rounded hips. 

Her dark brown hair was straight, and fell to her shoulders. Gold, hoop earrings adorned her ears. She'd chosen her gold, strappy heels that made her already long legs seem endless. 

And then there were her boobs. They were small but perky; and she was proud of the way her nipples hardened like little pebbles when she was cold...or aroused. 

Right now she was definitely the latter.

Rob snaked his arm around Octavia's waste and pulled her between his legs. 

Flattening his right palm between her breasts, he slowly moved upward and around where he loosened the string at the back of her neck. 

He buried his fingers in her silky hair, and without warning, he yanked her head back.

Octavia gasped with pain. But her discomfort quickly turned into pleasure as Rob squeezed her breasts with his left hand while biting at her neck. He released her hair and roughly jerked down her dress to expose her small, bronze globes. 

He chuckled at the sight of her dark, hardened nipples. She definitely wanted him. 

Rob licked each nipple, and groaned when Octavia slipped her hand between them and squeezed the outline of his dick through his pants. 

She laughed delightedly when her hand circled around his incredibly thick member. 

"Suck it," he commanded.

"With pleasure," Octavia whispered. 

She slowly sank to her knees and unbuckled Rob's belt. As she pulled down his pants she wasn't surprised to see that he was wearing some expensive-looking, silk boxers. She reached in and pulled him out.

At the sight of his thick, long cock, Octavia salivated, wetting her lips before taking the head into her mouth. 

She worked her tongue along Rob's length, licking him like a lollipop until it glistened with her spit. He sank his fingers into her hair and began to pump in and out of her mouth. 

He pushed until his dick was in the back of Octavia's throat, watching the veins in her neck protrude. It was as if he was mesmerized. 




Perfume Ch. 02



Mercifully, Rob pulled his cock out of her mouth just when she thought she was going to choke to death.

Her relief was short-lived as he pushed himself in her throat once again. He pumped his hips relentlessly and withdrew, leaving Octavia struggling for air. 

"I'm going to enjoy fucking you with your boyfriend just outside my door," Rob said as he rubbed his dick over her lips and face. 

"Get up...turn around...and spread your legs," he said roughly as he removed his shirt.

Octavia did as she was told, turning to bend over the desk. Rob pulled her dress off and massaged her ass. Then he delivered a few, solid smacks to her cheeks, turning them red. 

Her ass was thick for such a small girl. Rob liked that.

She hissed and gyrated on the desk in anticipation. 

He slid his finger inside of her pussy and confirmed what he already knew. She was dripping wet. 

Removing his finger, Rob pushed his cock into Octavia until he was balls deep. 

"Shiiiit," she wailed. He didn't give her time to adjust to his length, but began to punish Octavia's pussy with his hard strokes. 

"Unh, unh, unh...fuck my pussy," she moaned as she gripped the edges of his desk. 

He grunted as her body squeezed his cock. Savoring the feeling, he slowed down, circling his hips painstakingly.

Octavia wondered if she could die from bliss.

Rob ran his hands over her back and shoulders, and around to cup both her breasts.

"Tell me how much you like Bori dick, Octavia," he said quietly.

"Mmmm...I love your dick, Rob," she moaned. "Please, fuck me harder with that big, Puerto Rican cock!"

Rob abruptly pulled out of her and wrapped her hair around his fist. He led her across the room and pushed her onto her back on one of the couches. 

Kneeling between her legs, he grabbed her thighs, and pulled her to him so that her ass was on the edge of the cushion. Rob rubbed his head along Octavia's clit, then slammed into her once again, and began to roughly ride her. The wet sounds of fucking and heavy breathing filled the room. 

Beads of sweat dripped off of Rob onto Octavia as he quickened the pace. 

He was going to come. He reached between their bodies and fingered her nub, bringing her closer to her own climax. 

Octavia didn't think she had ever been sexed like this. 

"Oh my God," she cried. 

As Rob continued to assault her clit, she began to spasm violently, coming all over his dick. 

"OH MY GOOOOOOOD!" she shrieked.

At the familiar tightening of his nuts Rob withdrew his member. He stood over Octavia and squirted his hot liquid all over her body. 

He had as good as marked his territory.

Arrogantly, he rubbed his come all over her breasts, and pushed two fingers into her mouth. Octavia sucked them hungrily. 

Looking down at his handy work, Rob smirked. She was in a daze. 

He chuckled smugly. 

"Our talk went very well. I want you to understand that you are to do what I say, when I say it...no questions asked. Whenever I need to see you I'll send for you. There's a bathroom right there. Clean up, and then you can let yourself out," he said.

Octavia got up and made her way to the other side of the bookshelves where Rob had said there would be a bathroom. She couldn't believe how she had been dismissed...just like that. 

She didn't know what was worse: his callousness or the fact that she was completely turned on by it. 

She did know one thing, though. He had enjoyed himself as much as she did; and he would definitely be coming back for more. She was sure of it. 

Before she closed the door, Rob issued one more command.

"Octavia," he said, calmly. She stuck her head out the door.

"I'm not a man who shares. So nobody else should be fucking your pussy but me."

"Nobody," he emphasized.

"Okay," she said quietly. Closing the door, she fought to contain a squeal of delight. 

Oh, yes...he would be coming back for more.

***

As Octavia withdrew funds for another customer, her pussy trembled at the thought of Rob. 

That man knew how to make her body sing the way no other man could. He was rough, and thorough, just the way she liked it. 

This brought her thoughts to her second reason for keeping up this charade as a bank teller. 

Her man.

Well, Rob wasn't exactly her man yet, but she knew it was inevitable. 

Since that first day when they had fucked in his study, Rob had been insatiable. 

After his brother Mike had given his approval for the job, they all were frequently in close quarters with each other. 

And true to his word, Rob sent for Octavia regularly. He came up with bullshit reasons to send Greer off somewhere, and then proceeded to seduce her in just about every room in his immaculate home.

Octavia had big plans for when they pulled off this robbery. She planned to tell Greer to kick rocks so that she could be with Rob. 

Of course, she hadn't talked to Rob about that yet, but everything in time. How could he not want her when all she had to do was walk in the room and watch his eyes glow with lust? 

Yes...when this was all over, she would have it all. Her money and her man. Then she could really start enjoying life. 

***

Octavia looked at the clock on the wall. On cue, the silver minivan pulled up in front of the bank. Adrenaline rushed through her veins...it was show time.

Finally, after a year of plans, meetings, maps, and the men demanding information of her...it all was going to come together. All their hard work had come down to the next several minutes. 

Like clockwork, the old security guard, Larry, left his post a full seven minutes early. He never bothered to wait on his relief to arrive first; and today, that would work to his detriment. 

Octavia had noticed Larry's bad habit months ago. Rob had instructed her to watch for seemingly small details like this. They needed every bit of leverage that would get them in and out of that bank in as little time as possible; and with as little violence.

The seven minutes that the bank had no security guard was precious; and it always happened just one minute after the patrol car and armored truck had left. Finally a little luck!

Octavia grinned triumphantly. Larry's slackness was going to aid them in making this robbery successful. 

However, her pleasure was short-lived as she caught a movement at the back of the line. 

It was impossible to miss the tall figure of that customer from earlier...Eric had been his name. 

There was no way she could forget a man so damn sexy. He hadn't given her the time of day when she'd flirted with him. 

She couldn't blame him. She wouldn't pay herself any attention either, looking the way she did.

What she saw next made her freeze. Eric's back was to her, but she was almost certain that he'd seen the minivan pull up with the four masked men inside. 

He was saying something to someone; and Octavia watched as he grabbed some bitch by the hand and pulled her to the restrooms. 

Fuck! Octavia didn't know what to do. She cursed herself for depositing that $500 into Greer's account. She'd known the heist was going down today, and had done it as a final "Fuck You" to the bank.

She had not counted on Eric discovering her "mistake" so quickly; but obviously he did find out and had gotten back in line to straighten it out.

She couldn't believe she'd been so stupid. What's worse, Rob would have her ass for being so reckless.

She had to fix this before anybody found out what she'd done.