Keeping Up With the Joneses Ch. 02

So, the comments from the last chapter made me want to explore Prissy's thought process in this. Again, under 2000 words which has actually made this a bit of a challenge. I have to be decisive on what I want to say. Anyway, I hope you like it.

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I know there's something wrong with him.

He shows you who he is, if you let him. I got to see it first hand, belly to an oak desk that probably cost more than I could have made in a year. With my legs and wrists bound, I met him raw and ready. I should be ashamed or angry but I love him.

My grandmamma always said 'love is a stubborn blind ass that usually doesn't have enough sense to walk straight let alone pull your cart'. In all that country talk, I guess I could see my situation. This man ruled my body with a mixture of iron fist and velvet glove but just the thought of us together could ruin me completely.

Was it lust? I prayed hard, night and day for guidance and even without the sex, I cared for him. Inside his arms while we slept is the safest place I've ever known. I could sit and watch him sleep if I could catch him. It was love and there was nothing I could do about it.

Not that I wanted to. We may have started off... differently, but I wasn't complaining. Every day with Dylan was a gift to the senses. A preacher's daughter from backwoods Georgia was living in the lap of luxury with a modern day Adonis.

I curled up on the lounge as I watched him take another lap in the pool under our house. The low lights reflected off the pool water in a shimmering glow on the short belted caftan I wore. Its coral color worked well with my skin. He chose it, of course. His taste was impeccable to the point of annoyance.

He made another lap and raised his head, looking in my directions. His goggles made it hard to read his eyes. I raised an eyebrow. I didn't think he had anything planned; his mother would be at the house soon. He lifted himself from the water effortlessly and I had to stare in awe of his amazing body.

Dylan walked towards me and lifted the goggles to his cap. "How are you feeling, Georgia Peach?"

My mouth fell open and I narrowed my eyes at him. It wasn't that I hated it but that pet name immediately took my mind to the worst places. I slid my legs out of the way so he could sit down.

"I was doing just fine..."

"Was?" He took my legs into his lap, his bulge rubbed against my calf through his wet Speedo.

"I'm going to be ashy now." He laughed ran a finger up my ticklish arches and I tried to snatch my legs back. His arm trapped my legs as he continued to tickle.

"Prissy? What's the matter?"

"Oh my God, Dylan!" I laughed and writhed on the lounge, trying to free myself. "Mercy! Mercy!"

He chuckled and released me. I watched him reach up and pull off the goggles then the cap. His hair fell down and stuck to his face. "Shower with me."

I moved to sit up and nod. "Alright."

He grabbed my hand and helped me up before guiding me to the shower next to the pool. I let him pull the dress over my head, the elastic belt giving over my breasts. My bra and panties were removed next and put on the colored glass sink.

"Your body..."

I resisted the urge to shield it from his inspection. Dylan didn't like when I hid from him. I considered our relationship a crash course in self esteem.

His hand slipped into the small of my back as he pulled me into him. I couldn't resist playfully popping the band of his swimsuit. He grinned and kissed me. I moaned and nearly climbed him as his hand slipped down and gripped my rear.

"I'm still trying to figure out if I need to rinse off the chlorine or eat you first. I don't need you upset with me over wet hair. It's annoying."

He was amazingly honest and blunt. It seemed whenever he didn't have to hide who he was, he told the truth. I took it as a compliment.

"You can wet my hair; just let me go to the salon tomorrow." My schedule had opened up ever since I left the job to be home full time. He hired one of the ladies from his mother's DA survivor's group in my stead. It was a win for everyone.

He gritted his teeth and led us closer to the shower head, starting the water. "I'm taking the day off tomorrow to be with you and my mother. No can do."

I squinted at him in frustration. Of course I was happy for him to be there with us but I hated negotiating with him sometimes. "Well, it's obvious I'm getting under the water now. Something needs to be done."

He blinked at me then began to laugh. "You're right." He pulled me with him under the shower head and gripped my hips as he kissed me deep. I moaned and trembled in his hold.

Shoving the tight coils out of my face, I stuck my tongue out at him before we kissed again. I shivered as he soaped up our bodies. He took his time to work on any place on my body where the chlorinated water may have touched. I could tell he'd made up his mind to do this long before he stopped swimming to look at me. He may have planned it this morning or even yesterday. I'd learned not to underestimate his long game.

He rinsed us with roaming hands. My head fell back as his fingers brushed across my breasts. They weren't as bad but still so sensitive. As soon as we were soap free, he made his move. I gasped as my back met the cool tile of the wall. The whole room was covered in the marble tile, only the toilet and the bidet were closed off in another area.

I shuddered as he licked my lips and began to nibble his way down in a straight path to my center. He kneeled and licked across the sensitive just outside my lips on each side and I writhed. A smirk played across his mouth and those wicked green eyes sparkled at me.

"Reach your hands up and hold onto the shower arm."

I looked up and then back at him before biting my lower lip. "I- I'm going to break it."

"No you're not. I put it up myself. Grip. The. Shower arm." His face became so serious.

"Yes husband." I reached up carefully to test it. It was warm but not hot. I gripped it carefully and looked down at him. He smiled approvingly.

"Good girl." He lifted one of my legs and put it on his shoulder and then gently did the other one.

My grip tightened and I whimpered his name as I felt his tongue spread me in a passing lick. Another and another lick came in a forceful rain of laps against my clit. I cried out, thighs trembling and gripping against his head.

"Husband... CHRIST DYLAN!" He was merciless. I guess he knew we were running out of time until his mother arrived.

He sucked hard, hands tight on my buns to keep me in place. I don't know why but my orgasms were always quick, rough, and powerful. He bit down and I screamed. My hands gripped so tight my knuckles popped.

It was like slamming into a brick wall of pure energy. My hips shook in his hold as my legs gripped his head. I couldn't hold on anymore and my hands fell. Even though I knew I was sliding, I couldn't stop it. I closed my eyes and mentally braced myself for the fall.

It never came. I opened my eyes to see my head was a few inches above the floor. His hands were no longer on my rear and instead gripping my arms, holding me up. My thighs still had their hold on his head.

He eased me to the floor and unhooked my legs. "Naughty girl, you could have hurt us both." He crawled over me, the water still flowing and running down his body before streaming onto mine. "Are you ok?"

I nodded and hugged his neck, and then the tears started. "I'm sorry!"

He simply rested on his forearms and watched me. By this point, he seemed used to my mood swings. "Why?"

"Because I'm crying, because I got scared and I didn't want to mess this up because you make me happy... "

He shushed me with pecks between roaring laughs. "Stop. Stop."

I stifled back sniffles and did my best to ease the flow of tears.

"Good girl." He kissed me slowly and pulled back to resting just above me. "You're so beautiful."

I let out a coughing laugh then smiled. "I love you."

He put his forehead to mine. "I love you." He moved until he could whisper in my ear, his voice half hidden by the sound of the water hitting the tiles and our bodies. "And you know if I'm saying that now, I mean it. I'm not a very capricious man Pristine. If I love you now, I'll love you 40 years from now, I'll love you forever. You're mine forever little Prissy."

I wrapped my arms around him and held tight. My face buried into his shoulder and the water from his skin ran down my cheeks. "Yes Dylan."

He scooped me up, stopped the shower, and dried us with one of the beach towels we kept for guests. Grabbing my things, he strolled naked to our bedroom with me in his arms. We redressed and I did my best to pull my hair back into a neat bun. I was in a longer belted caftan in a soft mint green, the hem wafted across my bare feet.

"Yeh ppeun" He chuckled as he buttoned the cuffs of his shirt.

"What's that?" I raised an eyebrow as I put on a gold hoop.

"It's Korean for pretty." He walked up to me as I put on the other.

"So, you did learn the language?" I relaxed my neck as he leaned my head back to kiss me. He'd told me about his past, sometimes more than I needed or wanted to know.

"Conversationally. Enough to get what I need done. It's easier for me to read than speak, strangely enough." His fingers stroked across my neck before sliding down so he could wrap his arm around me.

"Will you teach it to Junior?" I let him guide me from the room and head downstairs.

"Of course, it's his heritage." He sat me down on the sofa. "I'm making tea."

Her driver arrived shortly after he set down the set on the coffee table. She never learned how to drive even after his father, who never let her, expired. Dylan opened the door for her. Ms. Jones walked into our home, her petite frame held high with new but cementing confidence.

She reached for my hands and I gave them freely with a smile. Her small ones gripped my larger before she pulled me to her for a hug. She barely came to my breasts. Dylan told me that her only friend and confidant during her horrible marriage was her neighbor, a black woman. In his own words, she loved black women. His marriage to me was a bonus.

She craned her neck to look up at her son. "Dylan, could you get us cakes?" There was an unspoken agreement that she wanted some time alone with me. He nodded and headed to the kitchen. She handed me a folded paper. "There's a chance... the child will be like him. The more you know the better for him and you. Read these."

I unfolded the paper. It was a list of books on sociopathy.