Ryan Silverstone

Another, softer voice cut in. "The man sounds interesting. I'd like to meet him Lisa."

"Mom!" Lisa, braless and wobbling, wailed. "You were baking. You weren't supposed to hear me being interrogated."

Ryan thought not too bad. It established where the tension was and left the question still unanswered, who was the boss in that family?

The French doors immediately in front of Ryan were open and, hearing slight sounds and catching movement he looked up and placing his hands behind his head and leading back smiled, and said, "Good morning Sloan, how lovely to see you."

"Hi Ryan. You aren't ready for my visit, are you?"

"No is the truth. I've been lost in my inner world for the past three hours."

"And only in your underpants I see. Very well, I'll peel down to mine so I'm not over-dressed. I dolled up because I had to deliver papers to our attorney and a take my watch in for repairs."

"There is no need to dress down Sloan, you look lovely just as you are. A model of a modern young mother in fact."

Ryan was ignored. Sloan stayed where she was, on the concrete slab in front of the French doors, and pulled out two clips on either side of her head and shook her long light brown hair free, tossing her head and then focused back on Ryan.

Their eyes locked, and neither smiled.

Sloan slipped off her light jacket and allowed it to drop. Watching Ryan she slowly undid the buttons of her silk wine-colored shirt that draped over her still reasonably slim hips. He glimpsed a peach-colored bra between the bottoms of her hands.

"I'm not as well proportioned as my sisters."

"Who cares, you're feminine to the core Sloan. I notice the small hands."

A smile flittered and she continued to strip.

The smallish breasts hung low but cherry red nipples were a plus.

With difficulty Ryan controlled body reaction, helped by quickly discarding the thought of mouthing those cherries. But he lost control when he saw the bulges of white flesh over the stocking tops as the skirt dropped. It's impossible for a woman to look elegant removing her stockings standing up and in fact Ryan marveled that Sloan achieved it without reaching for support of the doorframe.

"Right, that's it," Sloan announced, down to her peach-colored briefs. "Are you comfortable about this?"

"Very much so."

"Well you don't look comfortable..." Sloan grinned as she looked at the tent before Rogan completing moving his hands forward to conceal it. "Oh you poor man, pick up my clothes while I make coffee."

"S-Sloan. The neighbors."

"If they haven't seen a pair of tits before you best invite them over. Anyway, I can't see any neighbors or houses for that matter."

With relief Ryan felt his erection subsiding as he picked up the jacket and skirt. But as soon as he picked up the stockings his cock jumped to full attention. Well it wasn't his fault he had a thing about stockings. He sighed, turning to march to the kitchen with the clothes thinking, stupidly, if his visitor had never seen a guy erect it was time she did.

"Leave them in your bedroom darling," she cooed, appearing not to notice the tent. As Ryan turned to leave Sloan called, "Don't damage yourself when you turn into the passage Ryan."

Sloan was here to fuck him, he was sure of that. But when? Apart from the unexpected strip, why wasn't Sloan behaving with more panache to earn herself a place in his book, disguised of course?

The coffee was ready and she asked if he wanted it outside where it was possible people could see them.

"It will be cooler on the sofa."

"Yes of course."

They sat side by side and when they'd finished coffee Sloan eyed him. "What would you like to do now darling -- fuck?"

At 2:00 Ryan assisted Sloan to her car. She flopped down wearily into the driver's seat and sighed, saying well she had asked for that. How was she to know he didn't know when to stop?

"You are great," Ryan soothed. "I loved you for being so affectionate."

Sloan sighed, kissed Ryan through the doorway and assured him she was fit to drive home. "Thanks for giving me your all Ryan. Next Friday?"

"Yes, please. I'll look forward to it."

"Mind if I bring a friend? You are a little too much for me."

Ryan felt he had no other choice but to be a gentleman and say yes. He went to bed and slept for six hours, when slipping off wondering had Sloan been teasing him when talking about bringing a friend.

Next day, just after midnight, feeling more than ready for bed again after two very long stints writing, Ryan reviewed what he'd written:

"This Kevin Casey will have to sail the summer waters around the islands of Fiji without you this Christmas Lisa."

"No, don't be such a bitch mom. You're probably not getting much sex these days so you're jealous and becoming fanatical about demanding all of us being home for Christmas. We all have our own lives to lead. Besides who else is coming home for Christmas."

"At present my children are spurning me darling. If it goes on like this only your father and me will be home for Christmas."

"Oh mom," Lisa said, turned doe-eyed and stroking her mother's arm softly. "I'm sorry, but I shall be on that ketch with Kevin."

"Will anyone else be on board?"

"Just the captain and hired crew, Kevin, two other of my classmates and me."

"Does Kevin bed those other young women?"

"Oh yes, he says I'm the best and he loves me the best and one day he'll marry me."

With motherly tenderness Marlene clasped her daughter around the shoulders and said, "You know darling, he tells those other women the same thing, probably using the same words with practiced ease."

Lisa pulled away and flared, "No, that's not true. I'll not be home for Christmas and that's the end. Now shut your mouth about Christmas."

Marlene left the sofa, her shoulders slumping. Lisa watched wide-eyed as her mom pulled a revolver from a drawer beside the best cutlery and from another drawer pulled out a packet and began loading the revolver.

"Mom!" Lisa said nervously but was ignored.

Finished, Marlene turned and leaned against the dresser. She said sadly, "In recently years I've found you difficult to deal with Lisa. So one last time: will you accede to my request."

Marlene then put the tip of the barrel into her mouth.

"Yes mom," Lisa shrieked. "I'll be home for Christmas."

On Sunday, taking a break, Ryan went to a movie and ate out alone. Walking back to his vehicle an attractive thirty-something woman said hi, as if she knew him.

"I handed you my card at the Book Club meeting, remember?"

"Oh yes, Mrs..."

"Sue Locke and yes I am married but if I come to your place, no problem."

They parted with no arrangement being made. Driving home Ryan wondered whether he should have dated, say Tuesday. Kyla was coming in the morning and with her new baby she'd be a dead loss.

Kyla was bending and stretching into the rear bench seat when Ryan came up behind her, having heard the vehicle arrive.

The cute ass poked towards him and he thought, one doesn't tell a mom with a new baby she has a cute ass and one doesn't pat it, does one? He thought he'd rather overdone the 'ones'. He rather liked that form of speech.

"Hi," he said meekly.

Kyla popped back out and kissed him very sexily. "Oh hi, good to see you again." She looked at him so steadily that guilt plunge through Ryan. No, no -- he couldn't, not a new mom.

The mother dived back in a re-emerged with a gurgling blue-eyed baby and appeared to be leaving a ghastly smell behind him.

"Here, hold him."

"I'll drop him," Ryan yelled.

"Nonsense, just imagine it's one of your lighter babes in your arms as you carry her to the bedroom."

"I often drop them if drunk."

"Naughty boy. You'll be okay. I've just changed his diapers."

Ah, that smell. Ryan, wrinkling his nose, took a couple of steps away from the vehicle. He looked down into a pair of trusting huge eyes. "Hi Johnny, welcome to my hideout."

"Oh," called Kyla, holding the offensive wrap.

"What?"

"You darling, you called my Johnny by his name. You remembered."

Ryan has no idea what that was about so used the usefully standby that often got a guy back on track when dealing with females, "So?"

"You don't understand do you? Most men don't care a shit what a mom's new baby is called."

"Well, he looks like a Johnny to me."

"Oh does he? That makes me feel ever so pleased. There was a big row over choice of name. My husband lost of course."

Kyla came closer and squeezed against Ryan. Well, at least they were outside, he thought, turning his shoulder to try to shield Johnny from the polluted air carrying his mom's perfume fragrance. She'd said 'my husband' instead of Tony when she knew Tony and he had chatted on Mother's Day. Suddenly it hit Ryan: when a married woman plays around with another guy she never refers to her husband by name.

Kyla then said brazenly, "I'll feed Johnny and put him down, leaving you and I free to play around."

Ryan had a great urge to cover Johnny's ears. He didn't want the kid to learn nasty things from his mother when he was at an impressionable age.

"How old is Johnny," he asked, thinking the baby looked far too young for first grade.

"Nine months. I'm well back into sex if that's what you're thinking."

"No, I was thinking about school."

"Why?"

"Just wondering about when Johnny would enter first grade."

"Oh Ryan. How wonderful of you to be thinking that way. Most men don't care a shit about a child's education. I shall discuss with my husband about you being invited to be Johnny's godfather."

Ryan knew he was being teased so he grinned and said he had no connection with the Mafia. Kyla, who was placing into the trunk the offensive bundle she'd dropped to the ground earlier, fell about laughing, calling Ryan a genuine wit.

Three and a half hours later Ryan accompanied his friends Johnny and Kyla to the car, a little worse for wear. He had sticking plaster over his left ear where Kyla had bitten him and they'd had great difficulty getting the bleeding to stop. His back was covered in nail gouges and there were multiple teeth marks on his cock. For the first time in his life he'd asked a woman to back off a bit. They agreed that weasel of a request was due to his bleeding ear, but in his heart Ryan knew Kyla had too much firepower for him. Kyla had sent his ego soaring when she claimed she'd never been with a guy who gushed so voluminously but then went into a frenzy that left him firing on empty and his butt felt on fire.

Recuperating in a hot bath Ryan was astonished to work out that so far, on across-the-board points scoring, that despite being such an invasive slut Kyla slotted next to Avon, then Sloan and surprisingly Nova trailed the bunch. Kyla appeared soft when around Johnny but she changed when performing sexually and at rest spoke to Ryan almost like a guy, no crap. Kyla was into performance cars, had her own dirt bike, loved going fishing and shooting, had never read any of his books because she didn't read crap she said. Kyla told him he should exercise more because he was beginning to put flab on around the waist and said her favorite movies were action genre or anything x-rated provided it didn't have girls together.

Melanie the attorney called that evening to say Avon was doing fine and had the twins with her.

"Really, there's no reason why you shouldn't associate with her secretly if you wish but I advise against it as she has enough on her mind. Some of the folk she thought were friends have snubbed her and the IRS is now investigating her financial affairs.

"Christ."

"No, it's good and I've told her that. It will clearly establish a clear division exists between Tremain's finances and her finances. He's made some payments to clients in the past but I am confident of Avon's assurance that she's never been asked to contribute to such payments and neither has she done so."

"You mean payments in the past to buy off complainants threatening to speak out?"

"I prefer not to comment further on that point Ryan. I can advise the media have lost interest and Tremain has entered into plea-bargaining and it appears to be proceeding well. In all probability the case will go to court cut and dried as far as the bulk of complainants are concerned with only two or three devout complainants wishing to have their day in court to point their accusing finger publicly at Tremain."

"Well, they deserve the right to do that if they were significantly wronged."

"True."

"But if some of the claims are proven, Tremain will be jailed for quite some time."

"In all probability a very long time."

Ryan decided to take a stand. "Melanie, is this conversation being recorded?"

"Yes."

"Good, I'm thinking long term. I ask that Avon and I continue as if no relationship has existed between us. It's best she doesn't call me. We've come this far without her secret love becoming a dog's dinner for the media. If Avon agrees with this I'll love her for her strength. You see I want Avon's reputation to remain unblemished because I have no plan to take her away from New York. She is most comfortable living on Manhattan so I'll relocate there unless her mind about me changes. I hope this is acceptable to Avon."

"Is that all?"

"Yes, but tell her I think of her constantly. Goodnight Melanie."

"Goodnight. I'll call back in due course.

Due course was twenty minutes later.

"Hi, it's Melanie. There is total agreement between you two and I am to repeat this to you. Nothing has changed. Avon loves you. That's it, goodnight lucky man."

* * *

Three mornings later Melanie called. "I have just been talking to Avon and she asked I call you immediately. It has been confirmed that Tremain Cassidy was found an hour ago in his cell with multiple stab wounds to the back, the screwdriver penetrating his heart. He's dead. It's over apart from claims against his estate but he was heavily insured including against malpractice claims although in this instance there is bound to be legal argument over definitions of malpractice and criminal exclusions. If convenient, Avon would like to see you in New York tomorrow afternoon. Here is her address. The apartment will be crowded of course. Accommodation will be organized for you."

"Thank you Melanie. God, this is a shock. I'll be there mid afternoon."

Ryan packed and went next-door to advise Pam and Paul that he was leaving, and not returning. When they expressed surprise at his sudden departure, all Ryan said was something had come up. He left the keys with them and returned to load his vehicle and then called Gran, having given her time to be advised by family.

Gran told him, "It's a horrible end for Tremain but in a way a relief to us all."

Ryan offered to drive through that way and take Gran and Jed to Avon but she said arrangements were being made once the body had been released and the funeral date set. Gran said the burial would take place as if no crimes had taken place and that was Avon's wish. She said both Sloan and Kyla had called. Sloan was packing hoping Ryan would be driving to New York and she'd like to go with him. Kyla would fly, as it would be easier with Johnny. Ryan called Kyla first and she confirmed she would fly and he then called Sloan who slyly asked would then stop off somewhere.

"Well, let's see how we go."

Sloan tried again. "It will be my last chance as the road for you to Avon is clear now."

Ryan laughed and said not necessarily. There could be occasions when Avon might be away and wouldn't mind him straying a wee bit providing he kept it in the family.

Sloan called him a naughty man and gave him the directions to her home.

Not being closely experienced about family deaths Ryan greeted Sloan almost reverently when she came to the door, ready to go. "I'm so sorry about your loss of your brother-in-law."

She held back a grin and said solemnly. "Thank you Ryan. At the beginning we thought Avon had rebounded from her divorce in style, getting a guy although older already had fame and fortune. But sadly looks can be so deceiving, even when it's a cosmetic surgeon. He soon had his hands all over his new wife's sisters and we began to call him a creep. He's gone, I'm glad and rather like on first look his replacement."

"Are you sure this is enough, there's plenty of room?" Ryan asked sarcastically, looking at the two carry bags, two bulging shoulder bags, and two suit bags.

"I think so, it's only for four or five days."

Manhattan lay seven or more likely eight hours away. Ryan thought if the traffic flow was okay perhaps they would drive straight through. But five hours later, so far without a stop, Sloan said she was exhausted, making Ryan wonder what had made her so tired.

"And hungry," she yawned. "We've only had those sandwiches and two apples that I'd pack and the coffee is all gone as is the water."

"Right, there's a town up ahead, I'll pull off."

They entered Stroudsburg and drove around. "Oh look, there's a smart looking restaurant," Sloan said.

"Right, I go round the next block."

"No, turn off just ahead -- it's a very comfortable motel and should have a pool."

Ryan said, "Who said anything about a motel?"

"I just did. Please Ryan, I'm exhausted."

As Ryan pulled up Sloan was out of the car and loping like an energetic teenager disappeared into the office. Ryan shrugged and wore the expression of a guy who realized he'd been duped. Out pranced Sloan minutes later and cooed, "They don't have a bridal suite but I get the suite with a four poster. The motel and restaurant is on me. Thank me darling."

"You're a manipulative bitch Sloan."

"Oooh, you do know how to give a girl what she wants."

Ryan couldn't help but smile and at that Sloan was all over him.

Hauling bags into the room on the second of two trips, Ryan heard Sloan in the bathroom talking to someone. After listening for a minute he knew Sloan was talking to Avon. With heavy heart he strode into the bathroom. Sloan was on the toilet, her panties around her ankles and didn't look at all perturbed. She mouthed AVON to him.

"Well, you try to get a good sleep tonight darling. We are in a crappy motel and Ryan has arrived from his room to take me to dinner."

Ryan felt the relief ease through him.

"Of course you know that's crap darling. We're five hours out from home in some burgh. I've booked us into a lovely suite with a four-poster. He's just lugged up the last of the luggage. I'll put him on."

"Avon," Ryan croaked. "I'm sorry about your loss. I trust you are bearing up."

"Yes, I'm doing well. I hadn't realized I have so many friends. Everyone sees me as a tragic widow. I wasn't going to wear black at the funeral but now I guess I'll have to because people expect. Mom is here with me so that's great and Jennie who was my bridesmaid is also staying with me. I guess you tried to phone me?"

"Yes, several times. Probably ten."

"The calls have been practically non-stop."

Ryan swallowed, "I had intended driving straight through."

"But Sloan said she was exhausted and then jumped out of the car and booked you into a single bedroom suite. Don't worry darling, it's a well-worked trick that Gran taught us. Just enjoy the night, at least one of us is having fun."

"B-but Avon..."

"No buts darling. I want it to happen. Just keep it within the family, that's all. I really must go...people are waiting and mom looks really tired. Time for me to take control. I'm really looking forward to seeing you tomorrow. My friends Gwen and Roger Thomas, three floors above us, will be hosting you. Gwen is keen for me to spend at least some of the night with you. We'll have to wait to see how everything pans out. It should be okay. Goodnight darling."

"Goodnight and sleep well Avon."

Ryan had wandered out of the bathroom when taking the phone so wandered back. Sloan was attending to her make up."