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.