Page 35 of Scammed

“He’s docile, Dad. You can see it. He doesn’t want to hurt anyone. He’s getting along beautifully with the other animals, and they’re enjoying his company.”

“Alright, he’s docile and beautiful and majestic and wonderful. But where does this end? At what point are we just going to admit that we have a wildlife park of our own?”

“Actually, we don’t want to tell anyone about it,” said Dex. “We want to provide a safe haven for these creatures, and your father has ensured that there is enough land to do that. If they can be reintroduced to their natural habitat, we’ll do that. If not, they’ll remain here.”

Gaspar still had his hand in the mane of Hekima, rubbing it gently. He felt the big purr beneath his palm and realized the power the animal possessed, even without teeth and claws. He could, in theory, still maul him or bite down, crushing a bone with his force. But he wasn’t. He was gentle and sweet, just as the others said.

“Alright. We have ourselves a lion.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Marcel anxiously worked his way toward the cottage, needing to touch his wife, to see her beautiful face. He was thrilled when he saw her sitting on the porch, just as anxiously waiting for him.

“You’re home!” she laughed, standing to run toward him. He beat her to the porch, lifting her in his arms, kissing her face, then her neck, and finally devouring her luscious lips.

“Oh, how I’ve missed you,” he whispered in her ear.

“You’ve only been gone a day,” she laughed. “But I missed you as well. Was the trip a success?”

“I’m not sure that success is the right word, but we did find some things. The others will be researching much of it as it requires abilities beyond my own.”

“Spencer came by earlier and offered computer lessons for you,” she smiled. “He thinks it’s ‘cool’ that you were once a ghost and wants to help you to understand the world as it is now.”

“And how will young Spencer do this for me?” he smirked. “I fear it will test the limits of the young lad’s patience.”

“He says that he has a way to download information from the last two centuries into your brain, allowing you to learn everything relative about the world today.”

“Everything? That seems impossible, and it makes me very nervous. I’m not in favor of being a guinea pig, nor am I in favor of being electrocuted,” he mumbled against her neck. Amy giggled, shaking her head.

“Marcel, you know that being pregnant makes me very, very horny, right?”

“Horny?” he frowned.

“I desire sex. A lot.” She stared at him, and he looked as though he wanted to speak but didn’t. “Marcel? I desire sex a lot, like right now.”

“That I understood,” he said, lifting her in his arms.

Marcel made sweet love to her still-taut body, enjoying her luscious curves and ability to take him fully. He knew that in time, her belly would swell with their children, and he would need to be more careful, but today, he could love her as he desired.

Initially surprised, now happy that Amy was able to accommodate the length and girth of his thick cock, her moans and cries only bringing him further and further into ecstasy. Never had he experienced such a woman.

As they dressed for dinner, stealing flirtatious glances and grins, continuing the affection with one another, Amy’s phone buzzed on the table.

“It’s Prometheus,” she frowned.

“Do not answer if you don’t wish to,” he said. She shook her head.

“I don’t want to speak with them now. Maybe later when the others can listen as well,” she said, taking his hand.

By the time they reached the cafeteria, the phone had rung five more times, leaving messages each time. Marcel called for Code and the others to circle their table in order to listen to the voicemails.

“Amy, this is Mr. Sheffield. Amy, we’d like to speak with you about returning to Prometheus. Please call me as soon as possible.”

“Amy, this is Mr. Sheffield again. I believe some friends of yours were here and collected the painting of Marcel Robicheaux. Someone is asking about the painting and would like to buy it.”

“Buy it?” frowned Marcel. “Who would wish to buy a painting of me?”

“Amy, I’m asking you to please call me. This is urgent. We must find that painting.”

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