Life as a New Hire Ch. 06

"I'll try," she gently and repeatedly kissed my shirt-covered chest. "I think you joke too much yet you're terribly honest. When you said you had a 'plethora of bizarre knowledge, I laugh at danger and have an incessant desire to learn' you weren't kidding. I should have run out the door right then."

"I agree. I know you are normally smarter than this - staying with me," I nodded.

"You are not getting rid of me that easily," Nikita went to her tippy-toes and kissed me on the lips. That's right. I was not a stoner who liked to toke on the weekends. No, I was part of a massive criminal conspiracy that was involved in various malfeasances more often associated with The Hague than the FBI, or Interpol.

Basically I was the opposite kind of man Nikita thought she wanted. I was verbally evasive, romantically unreliable, unethical and criminally involved. She wasn't blind to my flaws, she was reevaluating her desires. Beyond the sex, which promised to be epic, she felt I was brave and compassionate, honest and caring; a lover who laughed at death.

In her distant future, sitting on the sofa, watching TV, while her socially acceptable, ethical and reliable husband was on the computer and her children were asleep in bed, I was the type of man she would recall with a sensual curve to her lips and the fondest of erotic memories. She might even wonder if they'd ever find all my body parts, or the person, or persons, who finally did me in.

In the short term that meant more sex for me. I knew I was trying to not have sex spoil my relations with Nikita. I was going to move mountains to keep this love affair on track. If I wasn't nailing her by next Saturday, a good bet would be that the world had ended. This lack of sex was killing me. With my stress level skyrocketing, my libido was threatening to slip its leash.

I'd already scoped out three dozen spots at Havenstone for some quick nookie. It wasn't intentional. My perception automatically cataloged every place I went to on how safely, quietly, and comfortable having sex there would be. I don't think most people appreciate how much restraint I showed by not screwing Katrina in her bathroom, Buffy on that bed, and Buffy and Helena in any number of places.

The elevators...oh God, the elevators. I'd had sex with a total stranger riding an elevator in the Sears Tower. Every few seconds, we kept punching buttons for higher floors. Watching her greet her husband and two young daughters getting out of the lift was enchanting. I never considered the wife to be cheating though.

She wasn't leaving her family; she was indulging in a fantasy. That helped me through lunch. After all, I was there to catch up with a high school buddy and his sister...and her husband...and two daughters - whoops. In retrospect, I was probably drawn to her because she looked like her/his mother. Mom was kind of hot and freaky too.

The lesson there was never go upstairs to take a shower and change, leaving me alone with your mother unless you want her to have a secret smile when you return. She was divorced so there was no moral quandary. Further rumination was forestalled by Timothy's keys jingling in the door and coming in.

"Brother, she's still got her clothes on," Timothy mocked me. "You are losing your touch."

"We are not having sex," I protested.

"We are not...this weekend," Nikita blushed slightly. "Next week though..."

"I'm holding out for next Saturday," I informed them. Nikita hip-nudged me and I winced.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Cáel," Nikita steadied me.

"Cáel, what the hell happened to you?" Timothy tilted over to see past Nikita and look over my bandaged thigh, which was now bleeding. Oh, come on. Don't tell me 'girl on top' sex voids the 'don't engage in any strenuous activity for 48 hours' warning?

"Someone tried to murder him," Nikita spoke for me.

"Any lady I've met, a jealous lover, or some totally unrelated woman I haven't encountered yet?" Timothy was less than sympathetic.

"Why do you assume I was shot by a woman, or that it was even my fault?" I groaned.

"In Atlantic City, the odds of you being mauled by a woman you've pissed off is considered a sure thing," Timothy chuckled.

"Crazy woman, you've never met her and I seriously doubt you ever will," I told him. "She'd have shot my nuts off but she had these ridiculously large double-D breasts that got in...Ow!" I yelped as Nikita finger-stabbed one of my nerve clusters.

"Come on, Nikita," Timothy teased. "If Cáel doesn't notice a woman's breast size, check him for a pulse, or a concussion."

"Eyes front, Mister," Nikita demanded. "If you're looking anywhere it had better be at me."

"Wait a second," I protested. "You are supposed to be my love slave." Nikita smirked.

"Who is the boss?" she patted my swelling cock through my shorts and talked to it. "Who's the boss?" pat, pat, "That's good boy," she cooed. "He knows who the boss is," Nikita smiled at me. What could I say? My cock was the Lying Son of a Bitch of all Lying Sons of Bitches. It lied to everybody, me included.

The only thing it didn't lie about was being horny, which was more like a continuous state of being for the damned thing anyway. I could have grappled her breasts, petted her kitty, and/or groped her ass. It pays to know your date/target/victim (depending on how polite you want to be).

My hands cupped her jaw with my fingers tickling her ears.

"Are these lips mine?" I whispered before kissing her with only a tantalizing tip of the tongue. "Are these my lips," I continued on and on.

"Yes," Nikita sighed happily, finally submitting.

"Nikita, I'm about to shoot our boy," Timothy muttered. "Let's avoid a friendly fire episode." Timothy went for his Nerf gun, I went for the kitchenette, or would have if Nikita hadn't stopped me.

"Oh, come on," I pleaded.

"No," Nikita smiled, "I don't know what you did, but I'm sure you deserve it." Wack - Nerf hit.

"Fine," I muttered. "Since I'm clearly not getting any sympathy, why don't we go get the car now?"

"I'll go get the girls, Cáel," Nikita suggested. "You should stay off your feet."

"Trust me, that will not work," I said. Thankfully, no one contested me on that. They took one look at the blood soaking through my bandages and cut me some slack.

Getting the rental car was interesting. I had to convince Nikita her personal vehicle wouldn't cut it in our destination neighborhood. Halfway to the pick-up, something dangerous occurred to me.

"Desiree, I need to warn Caitlyn I'm bringing over a lady with a gun," I made a panicky call to the boss most likely know Caitlyn's number.

"Who?" she snapped.

"NYPD Patrolwoman Nikita Kutuzov," I supplied the name.

"You are an idiot," Desiree stated then hung up.

"What was that all about?" Nikita stared suspiciously...again.

"The family we are going to is security conscious to the level they will want to verify you are who you say you are," I explained. They weren't likely to kill her, or us. Caitlyn simply wouldn't let me in, or let the girls out, which would be a sucky thing to explain if the opportunity to even see the girls ever arose again.

"Do I need to inform my precinct that I'm stopping by this house?" Nikita questioned me.

"I wouldn't think so," I said. "I also wouldn't have thought I'd be shot with an arrow this morning either. Do what you think is best." Nikita called in her itinerary. Once we made it to the children's place, she insisted helping me to the door. Caitlyn answered with the kids closely behind her, luggage in hand.

"Ladies, this is Officer Nikita Kutuzov of the NYPD. She will be our chaperone for the night," I introduced my companion.

"Cáel," Caitlyn asked after she pulled me into a side room, "who is this woman?"

"She is the daughter of the desk sergeant I met at the police station last Monday night/early Tuesday morning when Desiree and I showed up to get Marilyn," I informed her.

"I've dated her two times - no sex - and we are getting along okay," I added.

"No sex?" Caitlyn purred. "Saving yourself up for something?" I looked over my shoulder and saw three faces peaking in.

"Please stop taunting me, Caitlyn," I murmured. "The children are watching and I have to get going." She pressed up against me, gave me a wink then returned me to the hallway.

"Children, behave and I'll see you tomorrow afternoon," Caitlyn smiled. "Cáel - Daddy, have a good time." Aya was as happy as a clam, Europa was amused, Loraine was a bit sullen and Nikita was stiff as a board. The presence of Nikita, the outsider, kept conversation to a minimum on the ride over. Europa broke the silence as we entered my building.

"Gosh Cáel, you are poor," she noted.

"That's rude," was Nikita's rebuttal.

"What do you know about Cáel," Loraine boiled over with anger. Nikita turned on her.

"I know you are the reason I'm here, Loraine," Nikita locked eyes with her. "You are pretty so I'm here to make sure he behaves."

"She doesn't want him to behave," Europa teased. Loraine shot Europa an evil look.

"I want Cáel to be our Daddy," Aya piped up. "So does Mommy."

"I had that impression too," Nikita's smile to me was frosty.

"Well, I plan to be single for at least three more years," I declared.

"Great!" Loraine exulted.

"Good luck with that," Europa mocked me.

"I can wait that long," Aya added.

"It will be a miracle if you live that long," muttered Nikita.

"Cáel was shot saving my life today - me and my family," Aya got out.

"Aya - no!" snapped Loraine. "We are not to talk about it."

"I'm a police officer, you can tell me," Nikita tried to corner Aya.

"She is a ****," Loraine stated.

It was Old Kingdom Hittite for 'masked ghost'. 'Ghost' could also mean 'evil spirit'. I postulated that was the Amazon term for non-Amazonian women.

"What does that mean?" Nikita scanned the group.

"It means we are not going to talk about it, concentrating on having a good night instead. Okay?" I stressed.

Nikita backed off, we made it to my place and made the introductions with Timothy. Once they got past the fact that he was gay - their problem was not with homosexuality; it was with males wasting their sexual potential not making babies - they thought he was wonderful. My roommate caught me flat-footed when he reminded the girls that they should wear their pj's on a sleep over.

Off they raced into the bedroom, dragging a reluctant Nikita along, to get changed.

"Dude," I said in a hushed voice. "What have I ever done to you?"

"Nothing," he snickered, "I'm being petty." He went off to change as well. I was already in a t-shirt and shorts. I really didn't need to change.

Nikita's countenance was one of fury etched in stone. It appeared that Amazonian sleepwear consisted of a beige half-vest, panties and a short, short skirt. It was somewhat endearing on Aya. I wasn't going to go there with Europa. My brain was having none of that avoidance with Loraine though. God, she was scrumptious...and so very out of bounds.

Nikita was in a plaid sleeping shirt than came down to her knees. I was trying to keep it together when Timothy came out in black boy-shorts.

"Wow, Nikita. I had a shirt like that...when I was ten. You make it look..." he ended up laughing. The look Nikita gave Timothy was blistering.

Aya came up to one side, knelt on the sofa where I was sitting, and hugged my head to her bosom. Europa plopped down on the other side. Loraine hopped into my lap.

"Oh...is that your...?" Loraine gasped.

"That's his nothing!" Nikita yanked Loraine off my lap, "that you need to know about at your tender age."

"What is wrong with you people?" Nikita complained.

"Don't look at me. I've been sitting on the sofa the entire time," I waved off responsibility.

"We are not ashamed of our bodies," Loraine shot back. "Don't take out the fact that you aren't pretty as me, my sisters, or our Cáel."

"Cáel, don't tell me you find this manner of dress acceptable?" Nikita glared.

"If they are comfortable with it, who am I to complain?" I shrugged.

"She's nine!" Nikita pointed at Aya who smiled back.

"Damn Nikita, trust me a bit, why don't ya? I am well aware of women's ages," I sighed.

"Do you want me to dress like they do?" she stared accusingly.

"That would be pretty nice," I smiled letting my lust sneak through.

"Hold on," Timothy grinned. I was in trouble. "When I helped Cáel move in I saw he had a huge box full of women's clothes - not in his size. He's not a cross dresser."

Gee - thanks Timothy, you right bastard.

"What is a cross dresser?" Aya piped up. I groaned.

"A cross dresser is a man who dresses up like a woman," Nikita provided. "A Drag Queen is a man who dresses up like a famous woman/actress/singer. A transvestite is a man who dresses like a woman because they want to be a woman."

"Have you ever dressed like a woman, Cáel?" Europe inquired.

"Yeah," I grinned. "I did a burlesque review one year and dressed up like a pole dancer at a friend's bachelorette party."

"Really?" Loraine and Nikita both perked up.

"What's are pole dancers and what's burlesque?" Aya mused.

"Hmmm...I was in a burlesque troupe for a South Sudan relief charity event," I recited. "Burlesque dancers were really racy clothing - kind of like what you have on right now, Aya. I was a pole dancer at my friend's bachelorette party because I owed her for some past mistakes."

"Aya, pole dancers where bikini style clothing and do erotic acrobatics with a ceiling to floor pole, thus pole dancing," I explained.

"Can we see you do that?" Loraine and Europa closed in. "Sometime soon?"

"Past mistakes?" Nikita glared.

"Yes, past mistakes," I sighed. "I slept with her, her best friend, her mother and her younger sister. She stabbed me here," I pointed to a faded scar on my left triceps. "We hooked up again later, but things didn't work out that time either," I pointed to the scar on my foot.

"You didn't have her arrested? Worse, you took her back so she could stab you again?" Nikita shook her head negatively.

"I was the one who made her angry," I shrugged, "plus the sex was passionate."

"Those are scars of sexual animus," Loraine purred. "You must be tremendously delectable to incite such a reaction." She gave off her own predatory rumblings.

"Loraine, the man cheated on these women. This is not what you look for in a sex partner," Nikita lectured.

"What do you mean?" Europa looked Nikita's way. "I want a man that other women desire. It makes the conflict and resulting conquest all the more praiseworthy."

"You are thirteen," the policewoman reminded Europa. "You don't need to be thinking about men, especially treating men like conquests."

Timothy came out of my room with a large cardboard packing box - full of clothes - women's clothes.

"What the?" Nikita blanched. Europa and Loraine swarmed the goodies while Aya snuggled in tighter to my side.

"I've never heard my Mother, or Aunts, talk about a male the way they talk about you," Aya whispered into my ear in Old Kingdom Hittite. "They really like you - as a person."

"You referred to Desiree as your Aunt today," I quietly spoke. "Is that the first time you've acknowledged her as family.

"No; I did it once before when I was six and Momma was very angry. Grandmother Sylvia was the Heir to House Epona when she ran away," Aya informed me. "All of this happened before I was born. Great-grandmother was very angry with her sisters and Momma. When they brought Aunt Desiree back, they were all wanted to kill Desiree except Aunt Katrina."

"Katrina fought and killed Great-grandmother so Desiree was allowed to live. The other women still won't call Desiree 'aunt' or 'sister' though," Aya finished.

"You did," I reminded Aya.

"I'm not going to make it, am I Cáel?" Aya suddenly looked so small and vulnerable. "I know you will honest with me."

I wasn't sure where the honest part came from.

"Why do you think you won't make your trial in three years?" I inquired. I wanted to know where she stood mentally.

"I'm small and weak. My mind gets excited and confused too easily. It took a man risking his life for me to make me concentrate hard enough to hit the target this morning. I'm not going to make it," she moped.

"You do realize you are asking for sympathy from the only male inside Havenstone who speaks your lingo and everyone will know by Monday," I tweaked her nose. "I've been beaten up, shot with an arrow, faced numerous death threats as well as enslavement plus being stun-gunned half to death and given a truth serum that set my body on fire - figuratively speaking - all in my first week."

"Your life expectancy is under three years, Aya, but mine is at 77 days and counting down," I gave her a weak grin. "I'm not going to feel sorry for you. Aya has a dozen people who love and support her - me included. She's a winner. Me? All I've got is a whiny munchkin with delusions of self-pity. That would be you, in case you missed it." Aya hugged me.

"That's why I love you," she whispered into my ear. "You are really my friend. You turn my mistakes into victories, Cáel. You treat me like you would any other nine-year old girl."

"Cáel Nyilas, what is all this?" Nikita glared at me. She was holding up a bundle of women's undergarments.

"Clean underwear of the female variety," I grinned broadly.

"Wow," Loraine exclaimed. "There is not much to this one at all," she held up a lacy white thong. "Do you want to see me wearing this...and a smile?" she invited me with her eyes.

"Actually Loraine, those are Timothy's," I lied. She looked poleaxed.

"Bro, those wouldn't hide my balls, much less my dick," Timothy laughed.

"Guys!" snapped Nikita. "Try to remember this is a teenage girl sleep-over, not a frat party."

"Nikita, calm down," Europa tapped the cop's shoulder. "I think we've all seen a naked man before, unless you haven't. Why don't you try some of these on? Some are in your size."

"Women don't put on other women's underwear," Nikita stated. "It is unsanitary."

"But he washed them," Europa countered.

"That's not the point," Nikita groaned.

"Well, I'm going to try some on and see how Cael likes them," Loraine proclaimed.

"Me too!" Europa stood up.

"Me three!" Aya tried to jump up but I held her at my side.

"No you don't," I tickled her. "You need to stay here with me on the sofa to make sure I behave and Officer Nikita doesn't have to shoot me."

Aya stayed with me; Loraine and Europa grabbed up some of the clothes and fled to my bedroom, pursued hotly by Nikita. Timothy settled in on the other side of Aya.

"Hey there," he rumbled. "You are as cute as Cáel said you were."

"Thank you," Aya gave her warmest smile to him. "You have really big muscles."

"I work out a lot and eat children for breakfast to stay in shape," he teased.

"Bad children taste better with ketchup," Aya chirped without missing a beat.

"Do you have any eighteen year old, or older, brothers as cute as you?" Timothy rustled Aya's hair.

"We don't have brothers," Aya informed him. Timothy shot me an inquisitive look. My visual response indicated he should wait for an explanation later. We opted to tickle Aya instead then Timothy followed that with airplane spins and we ended up doing Aya-tosses. Yes, we tossed the future of House Epona, squealing, across the length of our living room, caught her then threw her back.

The ladies came out of my room. Loraine was flabbergasted, Europa was jealous and Nikita was livid. They were also all wearing various pieces of flimsy female attire. You see, when a woman dumps you in a screaming fit, they take their coats, pants and shoes - it gets cold in New Hampshire.

The often forget shorts, pajamas, panties, bras and light shirts. This resulted in my 'collection' of women's things to be biased toward bedroom/house casual attire.