Big Daddy Sinatra: Papa Don't Play Read online

  “You don’t play with your subordinates. Not like that. She takes a notion to file a claim, who do you think is going to have to pay that claim? Your broke ass, or me and Jenay? And I’ll beat your ass you get my wife caught up in your nonsense.”

  “Stop worrying for two minutes,” Donald said. “Nothing like that is going to happen. Becky’s a good girl. She wouldn’t claim anything like that.”

  “Yeah, right,” Charles said doubtfully. “I see dollar signs in that chick’s eyes every time she looks at me. She’ll claim it, alright, if you keep that shit up.” Then Charles looked at his son. He was always a handful, and his stubbornness made it worse. “Cut it out,” he ordered him, and then walked away.

  Donald stopped walking and watched as his father turned the corner to head toward the gazebo out back. He loved his father above any human being alive, and respected him even more, and he knew his father would never lead him wrong. But he was stumped. His father took Becky for a gold digger when he didn’t see that quality in her at all! But his father was the original playboy. He used to have more women than they could keep up with before Jenay came along. Maybe he knew what he was talking about.

  Donald headed back inside the hotel, but he entered a different way, avoiding Becky Hamlisch altogether.

  Charles, on the other hand, kept walking around the side wall until he saw the Gazebo on the southwest end of the property. Jenay Sinatra, his wife, was standing near it with a tall African-American male. Although Donald said the guy was there because his daughter planned to have her wedding reception at the Inn, the body language Charles saw said differently. They both seemed overly warm and affectionate toward each other. Especially the guy, who kept laying his hand on Jenay’s arm.

  Charles placed his hands in the pockets of his pants and stared at his wife. She was African-American too, and early on in their marriage he worried if these hypocritical townspeople would give her hell for being his woman. They weren’t used to change and tended to hate it whenever it occurred. And he was right to be worried early on because they gave Jenay hell at first, and plenty of it. But over time, she continued to be herself and do her thing, and she won them over. Now she was one of them. They opened their eyes to her hard work and tenacity, and opened their arms to her big time. Now she was as much a part of Jericho as he was, and he was born and raised there. But sometimes he felt that some of the men in town were a little too affectionate with her, and had their arms opened too wide. This newbie standing before her now, as he seemed unable to keep his hands to himself, was no exception.

  He was disappointed that she wasn’t alone. After what happened with that fool Goober Friley, he needed somebody to talk to and Jenay was always his go-to person. But she wasn’t alone, and he knew he had to accept that fact. He therefore made his way across the grounds until he was close enough for Jenay and her companion to hear his approach. When she saw him, she smiled. “Charles! Hey. You didn’t have to come out here. I would have met you up front.”

  Unlike the townspeople, who viewed his no-nonsense business style as ruthless and heartless, and made it their business to always criticize and complain whenever he came around, Jenay was always happy to see him, no matter what. He needed that, and loved that she gave it to him. “I need the exercise,” he responded to her, as he made his way up to the Gazebo.

  “Is this the husband you spoke of?” the man standing beside Jenay asked her.

  “This is he,” Jenay said with a smile. “This is my husband. Miller, I want you to meet Charles. Charles, I want you to meet Miller Franklin.”

  Charles removed his shades, placing them on the top of his head, and both men shook hands. “Nice to meet you, sir,” Miller said smilingly. “Nice to have a face behind the name.”

  Jenay would have preferred to break the news to Charles at home, in the privacy of their bedroom, but his sudden presence changed that. “Miller is Quincy’s brother,” she said.

  At first Charles didn’t get the reference. And then he got it. “Quincy?” he asked. “Your ex-husband?”

  “That’s the one,” Miller said. “She was the best sister-in-law ever. We only saw each other a couple of times, but I was impressed both times.”

  Jenay smiled, but her focus was on Charles. And as she expected, he wasn’t a happy camper.

  Charles felt odd to see Quincy’s brother, especially after the tumultuous relationship Jenay had had with her ex. Did Jenay stay in touch with her brother-in-law? And if she did, why didn’t he know about it? “So you’re from the Boston area?” he asked him. Before they met, Jenay used to live in Boston.

  “Actually, yes,” Miller said. “How did you know that?”

  “My son told me.”

  “Oh, okay. But yeah, I purchased a vacation home here in Jericho a few years back. And Jenay is right, we knew each other while she lived in California. I knew she left town after her divorce from my brother, but I had no idea where she had gone. I didn’t know Jenay lived anywhere near here until my daughter told me about this charming Inn that would be perfect. She wants to have her wedding reception here, you see.”

  “And she wants to have it in a couple of weeks,” Jenay said as if she could only imagine the herculean task that was going to be. “I said okay, if she can pull it off, we certainly can. But it’s going to be hectic.”

  “Very hectic,” Miller said, “and I apologize for that. But between my schedule back in Boston, and my daughter’s unceremonious pregnancy, my wife and I wanted to get it done quickly.”

  Charles understood that. Donald once got married, a failed marriage, under those rushed circumstances too.

  “So I’m really just reconnecting with Jenay,” Miller said. “She’s been a pleasant surprise in the midst of all of this madness. I was just inviting her, and you of course, to dinner with my wife and I tonight. I told her we can meet up right here at the Inn if you like. I just really wanted to catch up with Jenay, and I think she and my wife will hit it off swimmingly.”

  Jenay wasn’t exactly excited by the proposition, but it would be a good time for them to see if there was more to Miller’s reasoning for being there than he was letting on. “Sounds good to me,” she said. “What do you think, Charlie?”

  Charles wasn’t interested at all, but he could tell Jenay was game. And Jenay was still the only human being on earth that Charles always gave whatever she wanted. “That could work for me too,” he said.

  Miller smiled greatly and extended his hand again. “Well, nice meeting you, Charles.” They shook hands. Miller looked at Jenay. “And we’ll see you guys tonight at eight,” he said, squeezed her arm, and left.

  Jenay watched him leave. Charles watched Jenay. “That fellow wants to jump your bones,” he said.

  Jenay smiled. “He’s just friendly like that. And he’s a good guy. The only bones he wants to jump is his wife’s.”

  Charles looked at Jenay. He was always amazed at how dismissive she was of her own attractiveness when she was most attractive. “Didn’t you find that strange?” he asked her.

  “Find what strange?”

  “That he never once asked about his nieces. He never once asked about Ashley and Carly. At least not to me he didn’t. Did he say something to you?”

  “No, he didn’t mention them,” Jenay said, thinking about it. “But Miller never was that kind of guy. He and Quince weren’t exactly close, and the one time he did come around the children while I was married to Quince, he never showed any affection toward them. He barely gave them a glance.”

  “Yet he’s willing to go all out for his daughter’s wedding reception, despite her pregnancy.”

  “Maybe he’s a better father than he was as an uncle. Besides, he’ll probably ask about them at dinner tonight.”

  “Yeah, maybe,” Charles said.

  But Jenay kept staring at him. “What’s wrong?” she asked him.

  “Why would you think something is wrong?” he asked her.

  But she didn’t respond to that. She kne
w when he was in a mood.

  Charles exhaled. “That fool Goober Friley nearly put a hole in my heart today.”

  Jenay frowned. “He what? What happened?”

  “He was up for eviction, refused to go like so many of these entitled folks around here, and then fired a shot through his closed front door. Claimed it was a warning shot, but that shit was accurate.”

  “He could have killed you!”

  “Or anybody else standing around there. But he figures he was protecting his property. His property, mind you.”

  “When he doesn’t own shit,” Jenay said.

  “Right,” Charles said with a nod of his head. “It was reckless in the extreme.”

  And Jenay could see Charles was still shook up about it. So shook up that he came to her in the middle of a workday, which was not something Charles did lightly. He was too busy to just drop by.

  But it was enough for Jenay. She knew what he needed. “Come on,” she said, took him by the hand, and then escorted him to the hotel’s back entrance. They got on the elevator and rode up to the unoccupied penthouse. They went into the bedroom and as soon as they closed and locked the door, and Charles fell, back first, across the bed, Jenay was unbuttoning and unzipping his trousers.

  What she loved was the fact that he already had an erection. He knew she wasn’t bringing him upstairs for the hell of it. And when she pulled out his big, thick, stiffening rod, and placed her tongue on it, he moaned that moan that let her know just how appreciative he was.

  She licked his penis for a long time. Charles closed his eyes and basked in the feelings that only she knew how to give to him. And when she put it in her mouth, and went all the way down on him, every second of that encounter with Goober melted away.

  He didn’t want to cum in her mouth. He wanted to give her pleasure too. But whenever he reached to pull her up on his body, she pulled back. This was about him, not her. This was about giving him that stress relief he needed, and she stuck to her goal. She pleasured him long and lovingly until he began to buckle. Until he said her name softly, the way he often did at this point in their lovemaking, and began to cum. Small outpouring at first, and then a drenching. And for his pleasure, she took it all in. To his eternal gratitude, she swallowed.

  They lay across that bed, afterwards, arm in arm. “Let me do you,” Charles was saying, although he was so tired he could barely speak.

  Jenay cut that off quick. “We’ll have time for me later,” she said. “Don’t worry about me.”

  Charles held her closer. Everyday all day he worried about her and all of his children. He had four grown boys already, from his first marriage, when he first met Jenay. Then they adopted two girls, Carly and Ashley. And then they had little Bonita together. It was a big family. And Charles worried about all of them. But none more so than Jenay.

  “Robert called me,” Jenay said as they laid there.

  “I figured he would,” Charles responded.

  “He says you’re still upset with him.”

  “I am.”

  “Brent let it go, and he was the one most effected. Why can’t you let it go, Charlie?”

  “Because it’s wrong,” Charles said. “You don’t do your own brother that way. I taught Robert better than that. Cruikshank becomes mayor and suddenly is trying to eminent domain half of my properties, would have fired Brent as police chief if he hadn’t quit on his own, and then hires my own son, Brent’s own brother, as a way to further alienate this family and to put a wedge between brothers? And Robert allowed his ass to be used that way? I don’t like it, and I’m not going to pretend like I do.”

  Jenay knew Charles could be a very hard man. The toughest man she’d ever met in many respects. She didn’t respond, mainly because she knew it would be futile. When Charles had a point of view, there was no changing his mind.

  Charles looked at her. “You okay?” he asked her.

  She looked up at him and smiled. “Yes.”

  Charles stared into her gorgeous eyes, stared at her flawless brown skin. “I still say Miller Franklin wants to get his wiener inside of your bun.”

  Jenay laughed. “Oh, Charles, please. If you think that then you don’t know jack,” she said.

  “But I know men,” Charles responded. “And you know how I know?”

  “How?” Jenay asked.

  He turned toward her, and kissed her on the lips. “I know because I’ve just spilled it down your throat, and I still want to put my wiener in your bun.” Then his look turned hard. “And I’m going to,” he said as he got on top of Jenay and began kissing her, French kissing her, with growing urgency.

  He lifted her skirt, and pulled down her panties, pulling them completely off, as he kissed her. He opened her legs and fingered her, getting her wet, as he lifted her blouse, kissed her cleavage, and then lifted her bra over her big mounds. And he began kissing her breasts and sucking her nipples.

  And then he entered her. He was fully aroused when he entered her. Jenay’s knees were up, with her legs resting on either side of Charles’s body, as he moved inside of her with ever-increasing gyrations. And they were kissing again as he fucked her. She held her hands on the sides of his handsome face, and allowed him to kiss her for the longest time.

  And when they came, they came hard. Even Charles, who had poured out before, came hard too. He poured out again, and drenched her vagina the way he had drenched her throat. Her vagina swallowed too, as he continued to do her. Until it was too much to swallow and began to seep down Charles’s penis, and onto Jenay’s thighs.

  He continued to make love to his woman in that penthouse bedroom, he continued gyrating her, until he couldn’t do it anymore. Until he had nothing left to do but stop all movement, completely exhausted. And then he slid off.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  As Bo Midas got out of the shower, he couldn’t help but feel proud of himself. As if he accomplished exactly what he planned to accomplish at this point in his young life. Another platinum album. Check. Another Grammy nomination. Check. A woman he loved. Check. And despite her husband’s death, she committed again to be with him, and to marry him, and to be his woman forever. Check! They just had to let the public outcry surrounding her hubby’s suicide, and how his family was blaming him, die down. They claim he took the man’s wife and drove the man to suicide. Bo dismissed them in his mind. He couldn’t care less about their accusations. He just wanted what he wanted. And after the public, especially his fans, moved on to bigger and better scandals, he was going to get what he wanted. He was going to marry the woman of his dreams.

  He dried off, wrapped a towel around his waist, and headed out of the master suite to pour himself a celebratory drink downstairs. He had guests coming later. All of his crew were coming over to laugh and drink the way they usually did when he wasn’t on tour. And he couldn’t wait to get plastered.

  His lady wasn’t coming, though, he thought sadly as he made his way out of the master bedroom. She had to play the good wife in mourning. But soon they’d be together, he thought again, as he walked into the corridor. Soon he’d be tearing into that ass once again.

  But as soon as he walked into the corridor, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. Something wasn’t right. He turned around quickly. And that was when he saw his consultant, the best in the business, Trevor Reese.

  “TR?” He was astounded. Trevor was just standing there, leaned against the bannister, like some well-dressed thug. “What are you doing in my house, man?” Then Bo became angry. “What the fuck are you doing in my house?”

  Trevor Reese was not a man given to patience. Or bullshit. And he had too little of the former for Bo, and Bo had too much of the latter for him. Trevor hurried to Bo, grabbed him by the neck, and leaned Bo’s upper body over the bannister.

  “What are you doing, man?” Bo was panicking. “What are you doing, TR?”

  “I saw what you did to Carly.”

  “To who? Oh, her? That was nothing!”

  Trevor�
��s massive biceps flexed even tighter as he held Bo further over the bannister. It apparently was something to Trevor.

  “I mean, I was upset,” Bo claimed. “I was going through so much. You weren’t in town, she wasn’t helping me, and I was torn up about that suicide.”

  “Suicide my ass,” Trevor said. “We both know you had that man killed so you could take his wife. Stop bullshitting me!”

  Bo was stunned. “How did you know? I mean--”

  “You disrespected Carly,” Trevor said, as if Bo’s larger crime was beside the point. “I don’t allow that.”

  “I thought she was a nobody. I didn’t think she meant anything to you!”

  Trevor angrily threw Bo’s body over the bannister. Bo screamed in horror as he fell all the way down to the first floor, landing on his back. “You thought wrong,” Trevor yelled down.

  Bo was crying in pain. “Help!” he cried. “Help!”

  Trevor walked down the stairs slowly, watching the terrified pop star. Once downstairs, he even walked up to him, and stared down at him.

  “Help me,” Bo was crying, although he knew a man who would throw him over a bannister just for slapping his lady wasn’t the kind of man who was going to offer assistance.

  “You’ll live,” Trevor said to him, staring down at him. “You’ll live, if I had to venture a guess. But you’ll never walk again, is my guess too.”

  Then Trevor knelt down. Bo winced and tried to pull away, but couldn’t. “Let’s see how badly your lady wants you now,” Trevor said. “Your pipe might not work as well anymore. But you killed for her. Keeping it real, as you hip-hoppers like to say, you killed that woman’s husband. The cops will continue to say it was a suicide, but we know better. Don’t we, Bo?”

  Bo was stunned that he would have figured it out.

  “But guess what?” Trevor continued. “I don’t give a fuck. But if you lay a hand on Carly Sinatra ever again, I’ll give a fuck. Killing your woman’s husband, and not being able to walk again, will be the least of your troubles if you even think about touching my lady again. Because we have one thing in common, Bo. I’ll kill for my lady too.”