Page 39 of Plentywood
I watched Charlie’s arm move rapidly as he jacked his own dick while I filled him deep and hard. “Oh fuuucccckkkk,” he moaned. “Right there, Hunt. Right fucking there,” he gasped, struggling to remain standing as I plowed his ass.
“Holy fuuucccckkkk,” I roared, gripping him tightly and unloading, slamming into him over and over as I emptied my nuts. “Jesus fucking Christ!”
I leaned over him, still holding him tightly against me. Charlie was panting and went limp in my arms before sitting down on the shower floor. I leaned back against the cool tiles and stared at him.
“You good?” he asked, swiping at his forehead.
“Yeah,” I huffed, still trying to catch my breath. “I’m sorry, Skeet.”
“It’s okay, Hunt. It’s okay,” he repeated. “Let’s get you fed.”
I stepped out of the shower and leaned over the sink, my eyes capturing my image in the mirror. “You’ve fucking done it now,” I whispered to the gaunt man staring back at me.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR: Benedict
Agnes hadn’t arrived at the clinic yet, so it was quiet and calm before the chaos. After a fitful night of sleep digesting my father’s news, I got up earlier than usual and wandered down to the clinic to set up my day.
I’d pledged the money for the theater to the assembled crowd at Smitty’s tavern, but now wondered how I’d manage to fulfill that promise. The proposal Agnes had provided read that the costs were nearly a hundred thousand dollars. Not to mention another 5k or so to put on a new production this year.
I didn’t have that kind of money. I did receive my second month’s payment from my trust of twenty thousand, but that was well short of the amount needed. My only saving grace was that I didn’t spend money now that I lived in Plentywood, leaving me nearly the same amount from last month’s disbursal.
Agnes burst through the office doors, laying her daily load of items on her desk. Something smelled good, and I wondered if she’d included me in her lunch plans like she’d begun to do the past week. Ever since the tavern party and my announcement, Agnes had become fonder of me. I’ll admit it, I liked her nice versus crabby attitude. That, and the woman could cook.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, shoving two plastic containers into the same small fridge that held lab specimens. Apparently, I’d be getting a free lunch again.
“Nothing is wrong,” I answered, acting cool. “All good with me,” I added with a fake smile plastered on my face.
“Bullshit!” she exclaimed, sitting in a chair across from my desk. “You’re as easy to read as aDr. Suessbook, kiddo. Spill it,” she ordered. “Who pissed in yourCorn Flakes?” she added.
“I’m fine. Really.”
“The Sheriff or my grandson? Who pissed you off?”
“Neither,” I laughed. “Honest. Both were perfect gentleman.”
“Oh, I see,” she began. “Neither invited you over since Saturday night a week ago? That it?”
I moved a file across my desk, pretending that I had stuff to do, but Agnes laid a hand on the file and stopped the motion I was using to fool her. I looked up, my eyes welling. “I may have over-promised, Agnes,” I admitted.
“How’s that?” she asked, letting the file go. “Made both of them think you liked them?”
I couldn’t help but smile through my near tears. Agnes had grown on me. She was cranky and old school, but she was genuine and as reliable as Old Faithful at Yellowstone. “The money I promised,” I said softly. “I’ve run into an issue.”
She pursed her lips, folding her hands on her lap. “You can’t get any, or you can’t get enough?”
“My father is unwilling to fund the theater since my mother passed. I know that you already know that because he hasn’t funded it in years, but I’d hoped to change his mind. I wasn’t successful and I’m sorry.”
Agnes turned to the window, deep in thought before she spoke. “Do you still wish we could reopen the theater, though?” She returned her eyes to mine, reaching for a tissue and handing it to me. “Your demeanor tells me you still want to, kiddo.”
“I’ve gotsomemoney,” I said. “And a steady income coming up as well.”
“So, not as rich as everyone thinks you are, doc?”
My face flushed. I wasn’t good at acting humble. Being born into wealth came with its challenges. Having humility was one of those challenges. That and not being a total dick because I was rich on paper and had been given everything I had.
“Not until my father dies,” I confessed. “My career is just beginning, too. I chose to come here without compensation, so I’m working for free with a stipend from my trust fund.”
Her eyes widened, and she scoffed at me. “So, it is true,” she began. I raised my brow and waited for the rest of her statement. “Even you rich fuckers have issues.”
