Real Love Ch. 09

Writer's Notes:

'Real Love' is my personal tribute to JammyJimmy's (JJ) story, 'Threads: The Island'. I give JJ credit, because credit is due, for this story and for my own inspiration and entrance into writing. 'Real Love' is actually the first story I wrote, even before 'Tale of Two Teens', my first published story.

As I was writing this story way back when, I was hoping JJ would be the editor. Having been unable to make contact with him, I have been reluctant to release it. Some say JJ has passed away, but I don't know. JJ, if you read this and want this story removed, please contact me. Several readers have relayed to me, both publically and privately, that they would like it released.

Therefore, 'Real Love' is an unauthorized, reimagined rewrite and sequel to JJ's story, 'Threads: The Island'. The general storyline in JJ's story is embedded in this story. Several of the character names have been changed because this is my story. Anyone who has read JJ's story will identify the characters quickly, starting with my main character, Bradley Weber, formerly known as Kyle Watson in JJ's story.

This story is long, but tolerant and filled with several emotions. If you stick with it, you will experience euphoria, happiness, sadness, sorrow and it will make you horny. You'll be disgusted, pissed off, scared and you'll grieve, cry, frown, smile and sometimes, you'll laugh, I hope.

'Real Love' starts off slow, but gains speed with age. Feel free to leave comments about what you like and what you dislike about the story. Feedback is a good thing for those writers who want to know what reader's like and dislike about their stories.

Please don't be mean in the comments because those that put in many hours over a period of several months, and thought into designing and writing these stories don't appreciate it, nor do they deserve it.

I do hope you enjoy the 'Real Love' series. Just don't forget one important detail -- it's fiction. Please do give us 'not so professional' writers a little slack.

JJ, wherever you are, whatever you're doing, fair winds and following seas my friend.

Let the saga of Bradley Weber continue...

MDSW

* * * * *

Julian works his upper body again, mercilessly in his enthusiasm, and more than once, Brad feels like quitting. Eventually though, he makes it to the warm down and trembles through the last of the exercises before stumbling back up to the suite, drenched in sweat.

Kelly has made her first notable advancement in her relationship with Brad so she's eager to do something nice for him.

This time, when he finally makes it to his bedroom, Kelly has a hot bath waiting for him, filled with salts and other fragrance stuff that she assures him will ease his sore muscles. When she leaves the bathroom, Brad removes his clothes and slides into the greenish blue water.

The hot water feels like heaven and he lays there for a moment with only his fingers visible on either side of the bath above the colored water.

"How's that?" Kelly asks, re-entering the bathroom.

She sits down on a drawer unit and opens up a binder, placing it on her lap.

Brad rolls his eyes at yet another moment in the last couple of days where she's been in the bathroom with him when he's naked.

"We should get a workstation put in here," he teases.

"Yeah. Not so much a hot desk... a wet desk," she chuckles.

Brad gives her a tired smile.

"The bath is refreshing. Thank you for that, Kelly. So relaxing."

"No problem. We're going to try and fit Sara in later for a massage before you go to bed too, but we'll see how the evening is going."

Brad nods, sliding himself a little farther down in the hot water.

"What's in the binder?"

"Funny you should ask."

Brad knows he just screwed up. He smiles not knowing what he's in for this time.

"It's a draft of the press release. Casey emailed you twenty minutes ago saying he had a call from a reporter at work. He asked to be put through to you, but your phone is transferring all your calls to his desk, so he got the call. Said he was asking general questions about you, nothing too specific, but they wanted details of your current business trip and how to find you."

"Fuck," Brad mutters, sitting a little more upright and wincing as his muscles protest. "So, the press has my name already? What about Peggy or Stacy?"

"I haven't heard anything yet, but it's only a matter of time. Probably hours. If not, it'll break tomorrow."

"So what's the plan then?"

"We issue this release, stating that Danny Packard's last will and testament was read yesterday to his benefactors, three children he had with his wife, Karen, twenty-three years ago, who were given up for adoption following Karen's death. The three children, Bradley, Peggy and Stacy have since been informed and are currently residing on Mr Packard's private Island, meeting with legal and business teams. Tomorrow, they will be attending the private funeral of their father with a number of select guests. We expect a statement will be issued by them early next week."

"Just like that?"

"Yep. Nothing too committal, as far as the business is concerned it's a fairly sensible press release, with nothing dramatic, no big announcements and it shows you're getting advice too. From a personal perspective it doesn't really give much away about either of you, but we'll put a few photographs of each of you up, and leak them a little info. Stanford Business graduate, successful writer, professional photographer, that kind of thing. It will turn into a media circus shortly after that."

"You seem pretty relaxed about it," Brad notes.

"We've got good people who know how to deal with the media. Want to hear the bad stuff now?"

"That wasn't it?" Brad asks, frowning unhappily.

"Nope. When we release this to the press in an hour, later tonight there'll be ex-girlfriends, colleagues, people you went to school with and people you've never heard of in your life getting interviewed on TV, online and in print. Some of it might hint at facts, but the rest of it will generally be bullshit made up by desperate journalists or twisted by their editors."

"And I thought today can't get any worse," he murmurs, wanting nothing more than to sink under the water.

A knock comes from the bedroom door.

"Brad!" is heard over the intercom.

Before Kelly can call a response, she shouts, "Are you back there?"

It's followed moments later by her rushed footsteps.

"I'm in the bath, Stacy," he calls, but isn't surprised when her head pops through the arched doorway a moment later.

"Oh," Stacy says, seeing his head floating in the colored water. "You're in the bath."

"Well spotted. So I assume you've heard then?"

"About the press release? Yeah."

She shakes her head.

"Not that. This."

She flourishes a piece of paper at him.

"Can you read it to me please," Brad says, sighing. "I don't think I can lift my arms."

"Oh. Right. You've been working out."

Stacy sits down on the edge of the bath and lifts the piece of paper up. Just after that, her assistant, Nikki, sticks her head in the doorway.

"Hi, Nikki," Brad says flatly. "It seems this is the place to be. Come on in, have a seat. Everybody else has," he says smiling.

"How's the water?" Nikki asks.

"Nice and hot, and thankfully colored. You may as well come in," he murmurs.

"Right," Stacy says, lifting the paper again. "Tomorrow at the funeral, one of us has to give a speech."

Brad closes his eyes, waiting for more, but Stacy just stares at him. Then he opens them and questions his sister.

"Is there more?"

"One of us has to give a speech, Brad," she repeats anxiously.

"Okay. I heard that part already."

"Well, you seem remarkably calm about it."

Brad shrugs and then immediately groans as his muscles move.

"Speaking in public doesn't bother me. It's not gonna be televised or anything, is it Kelly?"

"No. It's an invitation only event, although the timing might be better. We may have an issue with press helicopters now, but we can put up canopies or ask for a favor and see if we can get a military exercise in the area to keep the airspace vacated," Kelly replies.

"We can do that?" Brad asks. "That's impressive."

"Mr Packard has many contacts in many areas and he's owed a lot of favors. Maybe we should call in one of them."

"Yeah. The Special Forces guys in Eglin Air Force Base in Florida still owe us after we let them use this place for an exercise," Kelly says.

"I'll make the call," Nikki suggests.

"You let the US Special Forces use this place to train?" Stacy asks. "How cool is that? When did they do it?"

"About seven or eight years ago. It was supposed to be a hostage-rescue training exercise thing, and they claimed it a success," Kelly explains. "They caused around two and a half million dollars in damages though, so they haven't asked to come back again, and they've been very helpful when we needed it because we still haven't told the media."

"What the hell did they do to cause that much damage?" Brad asks.

"They blasted through windows and doors with explosives all over the Island. Sunk two of the boats, blew up the pier and quite a bit of stuff went missing, most of it alcohol and steak," Nikki adds. "When Mr Packard found out he laughed so hard he nearly choked from what I've heard."

"Sorry, but can we get back on the topic here?" Stacy asks, still distressed at the thought of speaking in public.

"I'll do it, Stacy," Brad tells her.

"Hey, are you guys in there?" Brad hears Peggy say.

He rolls his eyes, spotting his other sister now entering his bathroom.

"Did you speak to him Stacy?" she asks.

"He says he'll do it."

Peggy breathes a sigh of relief.

"Thanks, Brad."

"You're not comfortable speaking in public either then?"

"No. I'm really not. Never had to do it," Peggy adds.

"How many people are going to be there?" Brad asks, curious because he really doesn't know much about the funeral arrangements yet.

Kelly moves so that Peggy can have a seat and she sits on the end of the bath next to Brad's head allowing Nikki to lean against the wall.

"Let's see," Kelly begins. "There's going to be around fifty staff from the Island, as well as all of us, obviously. Then there's the guests who are flying in tomorrow morning and staying overnight. There's fifteen of them, and another forty or so who are only here for the funeral and a few drinks afterwards, and they're going back out again, so all in, about a hundred or so."

"You've only listed around eighty, Kelly," Nikki points out.

"Yeah, but come on. Do you expect all the kitchen and housekeeping staff not to attend? They may all be on duty, but they will also make it to the ceremony, then nip straight back to work as soon as it's done," Kelly replies.

"Yeah, I suppose," Nikki nods. "It's what I'd do anyway."

"Me too," Kelly agrees. "Want a hand writing it, Brad?"

"Please... Normally, I would not be writing this kind of speech. On the other hand, normal is me not sitting naked in a bath with four HOT looking, fully dressed women surrounding me."

They laugh at his predicament.

"So could you all get out my bedroom please, so I can get out and get dressed? I'll be out in a few minutes."

"Okay Brad."

Stacy, Peggy and Nikki are all chuckling as they leave, but Kelly stays where she is.

"You too, Kelly. I need to get out of the bath."

"Sit up first," she says firmly.

"What for?"

"Just do it, Brad, please."

He chuckles and forces his tortured muscles to pull his torso up into a seating position.

"Oh shit, that hurts," he complains.

"I bet it does."

He hears her splash her hand in the water behind him and then he feels her hands on his back. He can smell the soap in her hand as she works her fingers into the muscles in his shoulders and upper back.

"Oh god. Kelly... that feels like heaven."

Brad can feel the stiffness and tension of his muscles easing a little as her fingers probe and push, massaging soap into his skin and every so often, cupping a handful of water up and rinsing him clean.

He closes his eyes, drifting in a sea of pleasure as her fingers work on him. He doesn't notice an erection growing until it begins to tighten up to full stiffness. His muscles tense as he suddenly becomes aware of it and he unconsciously sits up a little straighter.

"Do it again please."

She does, without hesitating.

"Is that any better?" Kelly asks from behind him.

For a second, he thought she's asking about his erection.

"Oh god, that feels so much better. Thanks. Remind me to hire you as my executive assistant."

"Funny. No problem though. I know you've been working hard, so I just wanted to help," she adds, standing up. "Now, can you manage to get up on your own?"

"I'll manage... somehow," he replies.

"Good. I'll put the shower on for you so you can rinse off. I'll be out there sorting your dinner clothes."

Brad nods, waits until she turns the shower on and leaves before he finally moves.

Getting out of the bath turns into an exercise in torture, but he's all too aware of his erection so he quickly hobbles into the shower and shuts the door.

It only takes him a few minutes to get rid of it this time. The dual memories of Kelly's body in the shower, the hug he gave her earlier and her hands on his skin moments ago serves to provide more than enough inspiration for a pretty powerful orgasm.

He's still a little out of breath when he dries off and walks into the bedroom. Kelly laid out some clothes for him and is sitting in one of the armchairs at the side of the dressing room with a notepad on her lap.

"What you doing?" Brad asks.

"Getting started on notes for your speech tomorrow. I'm glad you volunteered to do it, by the way."

"Why?"

"Because it means your sisters are beginning to look at you to lead, take responsibility," she explains. "It means you're already the alpha of the owners."

"Well, I'm the only male out of the three of us," he points out. "Besides, I've done a hundred presentations at work, so I'm use to talking from notes. They're not."

"Being a male has little to do with it, but that's the other reason I'm glad," she adds. "You will do a better job of representing the three of you on this occasion."

Her head turns back to her notepad, her pen darting across the page as she scribbles down bullet-points. Brad frowns and looks at the clothes on the bed. The now customary jeans, a pair of retro sneakers, socks and a faded black T-shirt with a Ramones print on the front.

"Were the Ramones a seventies rock band or something?" he asks.

"Yeah, one of the founders of the punk scene too."

"I can't wear this," Brad says. "I can't even name one of their songs. Besides, where did this come from? I never bought it."

"Margaret has been getting clothes shipped in for the three of you. Just swap it for something else."

Her head turns back to the notepad, so Brad walks into the dressing area and his eyes widen. Where before it had two rails of items hanging from it, now there is seven, as well as the full shelves and an additional drawer unit that he didn't think was there before. Still, the dressing room is not even close to being half full.

"She's been busy," he calls through.

"Yeah. She does that."

Brad flips through a few more of the T-shirts he can see that has designs on them, and opts for the classic Rolling Stones logo with the tongue on it. As he approaches the bed, he glances over at Kelly and wonders if she'll glance up at him as he changes.

"Just gonna get changed, Kelly," he warns her as he stands facing the bed with Kelly slightly off to the right, facing him about seven feet away from him.

"Yeah," she says casually.

Rather than watch her as he dresses, Brad listens to the sound of her pen scratching on the paper as she works. He slides on his T-shirt, wincing as his muscles stretch, and then pulls the jeans around in front of him. He listens carefully as he lets his towel slip, feeling incredibly exposed and more than a little nervous, and as he lifts his left leg to pull his jeans on. He can hear that she stops writing as he grimaces in pain as his muscles torture him.

He keeps his eyes fixed on what he's doing, and pulls the denim up around his left leg, knowing he's exposing his semi-erect cock to her simply by the way his hips are angled.

It takes a few seconds, but his left leg is finally sorted and he pauses to listen, but can't hear her writing at all. He didn't dare glance across, because she would just lower her head quickly, so he lifts his right leg and slips it into his jeans.

As he pulls them up over his hips, he almost grins, realizing that he's forcing his semi-erect cock and balls up and out over his lowered fly, allowing her to get an eyeful. At the last second, he pauses and uses his hand to slip his package inside the jeans, manipulate them into a comfortable position and then fastens the waist button.

He hears the pen begin scratching on the notepad again, before he pulls the zipper up and he realizes he's breathing unusually hard.

'That's fucking hot and she totally watched me', he thinks to himself, his heart racing as he sits on the bed to pull on his socks and shoes.

It takes him a few minutes of grimaces and groans, but eventually he gets his footwear done up and stands up, shaking his jeans into place over them.

"Dressed. Finally," he adds.

Kelly has a half-smile on her face as she looks up.

"Oh. Excellent. Like the T-shirt."

"Thanks."

"There's a jacket you should wear too," she tells him, setting her notepad aside and getting up. "It'll give you something to carry your new phone in."

"Okay," he nods.

Kelly slips into his dressing room and returns a moment later with a black linen jacket, cut in the style of a suit jacket. It's nice and light and went well with his outfit, and Brad is impressed at how comfortable it is.

"Don't wear it when you're sitting down or anything, but it suits you when you're standing up," she tells him, eyeballing him.

"Makes me look hot?" he asks.

"You're already doing fine on that front, Brad," she replies, not believing she just said that, then pauses. "Right. I better go get changed myself. See you downstairs?"

"Sure."

She's gone in a moment and as Brad is on his way out the door, he notices she left her notepad lying on the chair. He goes over and picks it up, curious to see what she's written.

The first half of the page is a collection of words. 'Come as a surprise to us... only knew of him what we've heard in the media... Legacy... Discovering who he was... staggering achievements...'

Then the words tails off and picks up a couple of lines farther down the page. 'Yum', is crossed out and next to it were the words, 'huge cock!' and 'get a fucking grip, girl!!!!' He smiles, figuring that must have been the first thing she wrote after she saw his cock as he pulled his jeans on and she returned to writing on the pad.

He continues reading, but it's all more concepts, bullet points and words. He flips to the next page but it's empty.

Brad considers taking it to her room, but then she'll assume he read it and things might get awkward, so he puts it back on the chair, the same way he found it, and heads outside.

He's bouncing on air. The incredibly HOT Kelly is into him, maybe just his cock, but that's a start.

Dinner is a bit more fun than it was the night before. It didn't take long before the girls are telling Rick, Charles and Mr Alden about Brad's impromptu meeting around his bath earlier and teasing him about his unorthodox management style. Brad takes it all in good stride, promising to hold his next impromptu meeting in the pool so they can all join him.

They continue to pick on Brad, but he keeps dishing it back at his sisters, which make them even more determined to get the upper hand on him. Despite their determination, they never did and Brad comes out victorious.