Life in the Oasis Ch. 07

Author's Note

This is the next chapter in the final series of the Elysium Trilogy. If you haven't yet, I suggest you read Part 1 and Part 2, although you do not need to have read the previous two parts to be able to completely understand the story (or enjoy the sex!), so don't let the size of this series intimidate you. You are welcome to start here and go back later or simply continue from here. If you like what you read here, there's plenty more in the previous two books!

Be aware, this series includes a variety of adult situations, and I do my best to ensure that the tags are correct and comprehensive for each chapter. These stories touch on a variety of sexual subjects, like male and female bisexuality, gay sex, lots of interracial sex, some incest, oodles of group sex, voyeurism and exhibitionism, all set in a near future universe where sex is far more open than in our world. You'll find a lot of the standard tropes turned on their head here, so don't be surprised to have your assumptions challenged!

As always, if you like what you've read, give us a vote, leave a comment, and a follow. I do my best to respond to every comment! Thanks for reading!

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Monday morning, July 25, 1983

Boyd Residence, Scotch 80s, Las Vegas

There was a reason Frank Boyd was on his fourth marriage.

It was approaching six in the morning, and the sun had risen a few moments ago. Frank was out of bed, his young wife still asleep, a sleep mask and sleeping pill ensuring she'd be in bed for at least a few more hours. He hit the bathroom, brushed his teeth quietly, and then just as quietly made his way downstairs to his home office, passing the bedrooms of his three children, all of whom would sleep late. It was the start of summer vacation.

He was still in his robe and slippers, no shirt and a pair of silk boxers. Frank wasn't bad looking, as far as fifty something, balding casino executives went. Sure, he could have lost a few pounds, and not everybody liked the aging college professor look, but he'd never had any problems getting women. That had always been his Achilles heel. It had cost him three wives and a large amount of money on lawyers, but there was always more money in Vegas. And more wives.

He took a seat behind the big desk in his office and waited patiently, a warm feeling starting to rise in his crotch at the thought of what was coming next.

"Señor Boyd?" The quiet voice squeaked tentatively, as Consuela peaked around the corner of the office, her eyes and the top of her pretty little head visible.

Consuela had worked for the Boyds for six months now, another in a long string of nannies, maids, cooks, and other domestic servants that Frank Boyd had hired to help his wife (all his wives, if we're being honest) handle the routine chores around the house. Many of them had been undocumented, most of them had been Hispanic and all of them had been cute, twenty-something brunettes. Consuela was as archetypal as any. Frank Boyd provided room and board and a small salary, and she provided 'service.'

They'd been the cause of two of his three divorces. Old habits are hard to break. The third divorce wasn't his fault. She'd been plain nuts and had run off to join a sex cult.

"In here, dear," Boyd said softly, gesturing to Consuela.

Consuela stepped in, wearing her French maid uniform, one of the few things that Boyd insisted upon. There was something about the black and white ruffles, the pleated skirt and the white choker with a thin black ribbon tied in a bow that did something for him. His wife didn't care what Consuela wore as long as the house was clean.

"Good morning, Señor Boyd," Consuela said in her breathy, heavily accented sing-song English. "Would you like me to massage you this morning?"

"I would like that of all things, Consuela," Boyd said, smiling. He threw open his robe, and she stepped over behind the desk and dropped to her knees.

'Massage' was their code word for blowjob.

Consuela fished Frank's penis out of the flap in his boxers. He was of average size and uncut, which Consuela had found odd at first. She'd never seen an uncircumcised penis before, and it had taken a little getting used to. But Boyd was always generous with spot bonuses, and they always seemed to come after he got a 'massage,' so she was happy to oblige him.

She took his entire penis into her mouth and began to suck gently. Boyd closed his eyes, letting the warmth of the young woman's tongue bathe him in pleasure. He could feel the blood rushing to his cock, and soon she was stroking his full erection.

Consuela pulled back for a moment and pulled the loose front of her uniform down, baring her braless breasts. She knew Frank was a breast man, and as soon as hers were bared, he reached down to tweak her nipples, earning him a broad smile from her dark-skinned face.

She was soon back on his cock, slurping away hungrily. Consuela felt her pussy begin to moisten, and she began to hope that this massage would turn into a fuck session, as some of them did.

"Stand up," Frank said, and Consuela felt a small thrill shoot through her as she realized this was going to be one of those occasions. "Turn around," he ordered.

She smiled again at him and did was she was told, bending over the desk and presenting her ass to her employer. Frank's hands slid up under the short black skirt of Consuela's uniform and found a bare ass with no panties.

"You were hoping for this, were you?" He asked, a sly grin on his face.

"Sí, Señor Boyd!" Consuela nodded vigorously, turning her head to look at him over her shoulder. Her breasts were on full display, and Frank flipped the flap of her skirt up so he could get a look at her brown bottom.

His dick was wet with her saliva, and she was clearly ready for him, so he lined his cock up with the entrance to her pussy and began to slowly enter her.

Consuela bit her lip, holding back a whimper, and pushed back against him, helping Frank to bury his cock in her welcoming hole. The pair began to thrust together gently, slowly, enjoying the feel of each other and doing their best not to make any noise.

The phone rang.

The phone's jangling bell tore through the silence of the office like a sabre through flesh and startled both Frank and Consuela, who pushed away from each other like they'd been scalded. Consuela stuffed her tits back in her dress and flipped her skirt back down, jumping away from the desk. Frank pushed his still hard cock between his legs, closed his robe and tightly belted it. In less than two seconds, they were so prim and proper no one would have guessed they'd just been fucking.

The phone rang a second time, and Frank looked at it, and then looked at the clock on the wall. It was just after six. Nobody ever called him with good news this early. He was tempted to let it ring, but there was an extension upstairs in their master bedroom, and no sleeping pill on earth had ever kept his wife from hearing the phone ring. He knew she'd be up. Frank waved Consuela out of the office and picked up the phone. She scurried out and closed the double doors, leaving Frank to take the call by himself.

"Boyd," he said into the receiver.

"Frank, it's Victor. I need your help," the voice said on the other end of the line. "The car blew up, and Elizabeth is dead, and I don't know what to do, Sally is here and she's okay but I was cut up and I've got some burns and Elizabeth is DEAD and the police want to ask me questions and..."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Hold on, Victor. Calm down. Count to ten. Where are you?"

The phone paused and Frank could almost hear a ten count. "Where is this?" Victor said, his voice faint as if he was holding his hand over the receiver. "I mean, where am I?" A pause and then he came back at full volume. "Yavapai Community Hospital. In Prescott, Arizona."

"Why the hell are you in Arizona?" Frank said, rubbing his face and trying to make sense of what his 'boss' was telling him.

"Elizabeth wanted to see the Grand Canyon. So we went. On the way back, we stopped so I could take care of the baby. I walked away from the car, and it exploded. Elizabeth is dead!" Victor said, his voice breaking. "The police want to interview me. I don't know what to do, Frank!"

Frank gripped the phone receiver tightly. An explosion? Victor's wife dead? His mind raced with the possibilities, and he felt a sinking feeling in his gut. This was the kind of thing that brought unnecessary attention. Cars don't just explode.

Frank had been in Vegas for a long time. He'd seen Mob hits in the past, but he knew it was exceedingly rare for the Mob to hit a family member, and he had no idea what Victor could have done to draw their ire. That was assuming this was what it seemed to be. Victor was brand new and just a kid -- his age on stark display right now. He had never heard Victor speak like this before. Normally he was in control of everything, especially his emotions, but now he sounded his age.

Fortunately for him, though, Frank had been through this before. Victor had made the right call. With the confidence that comes from experience, he calmly explained to this young executive what was going to happen next.

"Okay, Victor. Listen to me. First, calm down. I know things are crazy right now and you're grieving, but everything is going to be okay."

"Okay?! My wife is DEAD, Frank!"

"I understand, Victor, and I'm sorry. But you've got to think clearly, and you've got a little girl to worry about, okay? Let's deal with the immediate issue. I'm going to send a guy your way. Wait for him and do not talk to anybody, especially the police, until he gets there. Understand?" Frank started flipping through the rolodex on his desk, looking for a well-worn card.

"Who are you sending?" Victor asked.

"A fixer. One of the best in the business. He'll be there in a few hours. Hang in there, okay?"

He heard a loud sniffle from the other end of the phone, and then the line went dead.

The door to Frank's office opened and his wife stepped into the room. She was wearing a red silk robe and apparently nothing underneath it, as he could see a generous portion of cleavage where the robe was loosely tied. She had no makeup on, and her hair was a wild mass of blonde curls, but she still looked pretty good. His dick, which was still semi-rigid from Consuela, began to stiffen.

"Who was that, Frank?" she asked. "And why are you up so early?"

"Couldn't sleep, babe, so I came down to the office to read the paper." There was no newspaper on his desk, but his wife didn't notice. "That was Victor Romano. Apparently, there's been an accident, and his wife was killed."

"Oh no!"

"Yes, it's tragic. They have a two-week-old girl."

"Oh my God! Is he okay? Is she okay?"

"As far as I know, yes. So is his daughter. But I need to get him some help," Frank said. "Give me one minute, I need to make a phone call," he added, lifting the phone up and punching in the number on the card in his hand.

The phone rang for five seconds before a gruff voice answered.

Their conversation lasted less than two minutes, and Frank hung up the phone.

"Frank...?" Frank's wife was still standing by the corner of his desk. He noticed that her robe had fallen open the entire way, and her breasts and pussy were exposed through the opening. She had a finger in her mouth, her blonde curls hanging loosely around her head. "I was hoping for sausage for breakfast," she said quietly. She dropped down on her knees and fished his cock out of his boxers.

"Ooh! Already ready for me, I see!"

Frank smiled at her broadly as her mouth engulfed his penis.

"Hmm..." she said, looking up at him. "You taste odd this morning," she added.

"Oh, sorry, honey. I haven't showered yet," he said, thankful his wife had never tasted another woman and didn't recognize the flavor. He threw his head back and let his wife finish the blowjob that Consuela had started, his mind already far from any thoughts of Mob hits, murder or dead wives.

* * *

Monday morning, June 7, 2032

The Elysium, Las Vegas

"Right there, babe, yes!" Gabby purred, running her fingers through Sunny's short, black hair. Sunny grinned at Gabby and continued to lick, her fingers working themselves deeper into Gabby's wet pussy.

Lionel stroked his cock as he watched his girlfriends play. It was breakfast time, Monday morning, and the three of them were just getting ready for work. Sunny was going to head to the Bureau field office in Las Vegas, Gabby was headed to Nyla's studio, and Lionel was scheduled for a stint in the Elysium Penthouse security station. Things were a little quieter with Sol and Emily on their honeymoon, so Lionel had been trying to work as close to a nine-to-five as he could to give him some extra time to spend with the girls.

As chief of Sol Sinclair's protective detail, by all rights he should have been with Sol and Emily right now, but the pair had wanted to get away from everything and everybody, security included. Lionel didn't like it, had objected vociferously, but was overruled. Sol and Emily were in Switzerland, alone, and he was here, in bed with his girlfriends. He hoped everything was going well with the pair, but there was nothing he could do about it at this point, so he did his best to put it out of his mind.

That was easily done when he could watch two hot women fucking each other.

Gabby reached over and took Lionel's cock in her hand. Lionel's dick was of average length, but it was thicker than any she'd ever been with before, and she loved that she couldn't get her whole hand around it. Lionel groaned as Gabby took over stroking him and he rested his hand on Gabby's thigh. They were sitting in bed together, with Sunny between Gabby's legs.

Sunny pulled her mouth off Gabby's pussy and started to suck on one of Lionel's fingers, which sent a little thrill through him. Gabby felt his cock pulse and grinned.

"I think he likes that, Sun," Gabby said, looking down at her girlfriend.

"I think I do," Lionel said, laughing lightly. Sunny grinned at him, sucked for a few more seconds, and then put her head back down between Gabby's thighs, making her shriek and giggle.

The phone rang.

"Fuck."

Lionel reached over to his nightstand and grabbed his cell phone. It was Avery Locke. He couldn't remember the last time she had called him, so he pulled himself away from the girls, who groaned at him, and walked into the bathroom.

"Jefferson," he said after hitting the green accept call button.

"Lionel? It's Avery. Is now a bad time?"

Lionel looked back at the girls, who were still going at it hot and heavy, and closed the door to the bathroom.

"No, it's fine. Is everything okay? You don't normally call me, especially this early on a Monday," he said, padding over and taking a seat on the toilet. His cock had begun to shrink the second he saw the phone ringing, and now he was completely flaccid again.

"Oh, Lionel, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to worry you -- I know what it must seem like getting a random call from me at odd hours. No, everything is okay. I just need a favor. Can you help me set up a meeting with the Vice President? I know you know his Secret Service detail pretty well and I figured if we both asked at the same time, we might be able to get to him faster," Avery's voice said.

Lionel frowned. What did Avery want with the Vice President? Besides the obvious, of course. Lionel wasn't stupid and knew Stone had a thing for Avery. But you didn't call a man at work to set up a rendezvous, especially not someone like Doug Stone. This couldn't just be about sex.

"Uh... sure, I guess. What do you need to talk to him about?" He winced as he realized that sounded a little like he interrogating her, and while they were friends, she was the bosses' son's girlfriend, and it wasn't his place to second-guess the things she asked him for. "Sorry, I'm not trying to pry, but they're going to ask me when I ask them about it," he hurried, before she could scold him.

"Oh, I know," Avery laughed. "Tell them I want to discuss the vacant House seat in Las Vegas," she said.

Lionel's eyebrows shot up at this. "Okay... I didn't realize you were that interested in local politics," Lionel said.

Avery laughed again. "Well, I hadn't either. But I'm starting to be. I'm going to call his Chief of Staff now and see if I can get on the schedule. If you can wait fifteen minutes before you ask, that would be great. Thanks Lionel!"

"You're welcome," he began to say, but the three beeps he heard made it clear Avery had already hung up.

Lionel shook his head, stood up and opened the bathroom door. He stepped out into the bedroom to find the bed empty. Sunny clipped her holster and sidearm into the waist of her pants, as Gabby rummaged through the walk-in closet for some clothes, quietly humming to herself.

"Thanks for the lovely morning, you two!" Sunny said, as she headed for the door to their apartment. "Don't wait up, I'll be late tonight," she added.

Gabby threw on her clothes and headed for the door at the same time. "Bye Lionel! See you tonight, babe!"

Lionel watched as the door clicked shut behind the two women.

"Shit. I guess I missed out," he said to no one.

He sighed, rubbed his hand through his hair, and then turned back towards the shower.

* * *

Monday morning, June 7, 2032

The White House, Washington, DC

Rebecca Stone had lived a charmed life. At least, she thought so. She'd just turned fifty years old and was the Second Lady of the United States. She'd considered herself lucky that she and Doug had managed to stay together for so long, especially given how many of her girlfriends were on their second or even third marriages. But she'd stuck with Doug through thick and thin, and they'd raised three kids together, the youngest of whom was just starting college.

She was a writer, a few novels to her name, but when the politics bug hit her husband, she'd become a political wife as well. From the first city council race to the State Assembly, she'd stood by him. They'd scraped together as much money as they could, and she became the primary breadwinner for a while, her last book a New York Times bestseller, and he'd focused on politics. She thought he was nuts when he told her he wanted to run for Senate, but she'd stood by him again. And when he'd won? Everything seemed to get larger for the Stones.

And then Doug Stone got the call from the President.

"Right there, oh! Yes! Right there!" She said, shoving his head down between her legs. Doug Stone was a highly skilled man. He could turn a phrase better than most politicians, and his perfectly coifed hair, winning smile, charm and sharp wit had made him very popular in Nevada. But his tongue was Rebecca's favorite part, especially when he was using it on her.

Like right now. Vice President Stone was an early riser and expected his staff to be as well. He had a Monday morning breakfast scheduled with the President and First Lady every week, so Rebecca tagged along with him on the trip from the Naval Observatory to the White House so they could get steak and eggs together. It was a nice tradition, just a few weeks old, and she'd come to enjoy it.

Especially when Doug was in the mood to start her day off right.

"Goddamn it, I love it when you lick me, baby!" she growled. She reached up and unbuttoned two of the buttons on her cream-colored blouse and slid her hand underneath the silk, tweaking her left nipple, as her left hand rested on Doug's head. She looked down into his lust filled eyes, as he continued to tickle her clit with his tongue.

She was sitting on the huge cherry wood desk that served as a focal point for his smallish West Wing office. The walls were dark gray, one covered by a large map of the world, along with portraits of John Adams, Harry Truman and Thomas Jefferson -- all Vice Presidents who made it to the big time -- on the others and a large fireplace framed by two doors to the outer office. The carpet Doug was kneeling on was a dark blue with gray Senatorial seals to acknowledge his constitutional role as President of the Senate.

The phone rang.

Doug mumbled something, but didn't stop licking his wife's pussy.

"What, Doug?" She asked, looking at him with a wry grin on her face. "I couldn't quite make that out." The phone on the desk continued to bleat.

"Who is it? Doug said, finally coming up for air. Rebecca pushed his head back down and moaned softly when his tongue found her clit again.

"It's Stephanie. I'll get it," Rebecca said. She withdrew her hand from Doug's head and picked up the phone.

"Hey Stephanie, what's up?" She said, a bit breathlessly. She tried to listen, but it was difficult to concentrate as Doug picked up the pace on her clit. Finally, she gave up. "Just come in here, Stephanie. We'll be done shortly."

She hung up the phone. "Don't you dare stop, Doug," she said heatedly, as her husband tried to stand up. He made another random noise but got back down did what he was told.

Behind them, one of the doors to the office opened, and Doug's Chief of Staff, Stephanie Hemings, stepped into the room. Stephanie was a beautiful, curvy Black woman, just turned thirty and had been with the Stones since she'd interned for Doug when she was a student at American University in DC. She closed the door behind her, crossed the room and stood underneath the portrait of Thomas Jefferson, a very distant relative of hers.

In her hand was her cell phone, and Rebecca could see there was an active call. "Doug, Avery Locke is on the phone for you. I think you're going to want to hear what she has to say," Stephanie said.

"Oooh, Avery..." Rebecca cooed as Doug hit a particularly sensitive spot with his tongue. Her leg, which had been hovering in the air, her lovely stockinged leg ending in a blue stiletto-heeled shoe, wavered slightly. "I like her Doug. When are you going to get in her pants?"

Doug finally stopped licking his wife's clit and came up for air, standing up. Rebecca pouted for a moment and dropped her legs down, one foot resting on the top of the desk. She made no effort to conceal her naked pussy, her skirts still bunched around her waist.

"I have no idea, babe, but if Stephanie thinks I should take this, I should probably take it." He reached over for the phone, which Stephanie dutifully handed over to him. He walked over towards the other side of the room, staring at the Atlantic Ocean on the map, as he turned his back on his wife and Chief of Staff and unmuted the phone.

"Avery! What a pleasant surprise. My wife and I were just talking about you," Doug said smoothly. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"When are you going to be in Vegas next, Doug?" Avery asked, getting straight to business. "I have an idea I've been kicking around, and I want to discuss it with you in person. It involves the special election out here."

That immediately got Doug's political senses tingling. He laughed. "I've been waiting for this call. As soon as I saw that Ursula Beast was getting into this race, I knew it would piss you off," he told her, using the nickname The Gossiper had created for Speaker Best during Avery's investigation that led to her sex scandal.

"Well, I'm not going to let her just waltz into that House seat, so I want to do something about it," Avery told him, her voice hard.

"I'll be in town at the end of the week. The Senate should be out of session by then, and I've got to be here to break ties while this damned tax bill is still in play," he said. "How does Friday sound? I'll have my staff reach out to you with a specific time and place."

Doug heard a groan and turned to find that he'd been replaced. His wife's pretty blonde head was thrown back, and she was playing with her nipples again inside her blouse, as Stephanie expertly licked her pussy, sliding two fingers inside her and working them in and out as her tongue lavished attention on Becca's clit.

His wife opened her eyes and realized he'd heard the groan, smiled and shrugged at him, and then ran a hand through her short, pixie cut before putting both of them on Stephanie's head. He could tell that she was very close to cumming.

"That sounds good, Doug. Thanks for taking my call. I'll see you on Friday," Avery said.

"See you then," he said, and he hung up.

Rebecca shrieked in pleasure, and Doug stood by, watching as his Chief of Staff expertly brought his wife to tremendous orgasm, Rebecca's legs twitching as she squeezed her eyes shut to focus on the feeling. After a few seconds she pushed Stephanie away, her clit too sensitive to touch. She straightened her bra, buttoned up her blouse and dropped her skirts, hopping off the desk. Stephanie stood up, gave Rebecca a quick peck on the lips, and then stepped over to retrieve her phone from the Vice President.

"Did Avery tell you what she wanted specifically?" Doug asked her.

"No, but I think I can guess. I think she wants to run against Best," Hemings said, wiping her mouth with her hand and sliding her phone into the pocket of her pantsuit.

"You're kidding!" Rebecca said, smoothing her skirts and walking over to stand next to her husband. "She's never run for anything in her life! She's a reporter. Hell, is she old enough?"

"She's twenty-seven, turns twenty-eight this month I believe," Stephanie replied. "And you gotta start somewhere. In terms of that seat, we could do far worse than her. At least she's a friend."

"I wish she was more than that," Doug joked, earning himself a playful punch from his wife.

"Don't we all," Rebecca said, laughing. The idea of Avery Locke running for Congress opened a lot of delicious possibilities, Rebecca considered. She looked forward to seeing the former reporter again. "You need to make that happen, babe."

The clock on the mantle of the fireplace chimed the hour.

"Time for breakfast, cutes," Doug said, taking his wife by the hand.

"I certainly enjoyed mine!" Stephanie said, licking her lips.

Rebecca laughed and Doug smiled as they opened the door that led through the outer office. The two held hands as they crossed it and then entered the hallway that ran from the Vice President's office, past the Roosevelt Room and the President's private dining room, straight into the Oval Office.

* * *

Monday morning, July 25, 1983

The Imperial Hotel and Casino, Las Vegas

The Imperial didn't have much going for it these days. The rooms were small. The furniture was outdated. Some of the rooms didn't even have a color television, if they had a television at all. The mattresses had seen better days, and some of the beds creaked loudly. It was always a crap shoot whether you'd get a quiet or a loud one.

Sal Pacelli had gotten a loud one.

He grunted, driving his cock into the relatively cheap whore he'd picked up a few hours earlier in the middle of the morning somewhere on the seedier side of the Strip. He was paying her by the hour, and he was two hours into the six he'd asked for. The bed creaked loudly, almost as loud as he was grunting.

The whore he'd selected, a Hispanic gal with big breasts and bad acne that she tried to cover up with too much makeup, was doing a good job of making him feel like he was pleasuring her, but Sal didn't really care. He wanted to nut again before falling into bed and sleeping off last night's drunk. He knew there was an epic hangover out there somewhere behind him, gaining steadily, so he'd kept drinking to keep it at bay.

Even with the effects of the whiskey in his system, he was still rock hard. That was one of the many gifts that had been bestowed upon him by his creator. He could get it up whenever he wanted, regardless of how much he'd been drinking, even as he approached fifty. And nobody he'd ever been with had ever complained about the size or how he used it.

Probably because most of the people he'd been with, mostly female with a few men scattered here and there like spice in a very large bowl of stew, he paid to keep him company. As long as the money was green, they wouldn't say a peep even if he was the worst lover in Las Vegas.

"Fuck me, baby! Give it to me!" the whore moaned, and her tip just went up slightly on the running tab Sal kept in his head. Her black hair was splayed out behind her, her large tits bouncing lewdly, her nipples making lazy circles as he plowed in and pulled out, over and over again.

The phone rang.

Normally, Sal would have ignored it. He was well on his way to getting off, and if he stopped now, he'd probably have to start all over. Granted, this was the second time so far since he'd picked up this lady of the night -- well, lady of the mid-morning -- so he'd at least gotten his money's worth, even if he didn't finish a second time. But this wasn't a normal time. He was on retainer, and there were only a handful of people who knew he was staying in this room.

Fortunately, the phone was on the nightstand beside the bed, so he reached over, picked it up and answered without missing a beat. His cock continued to plow into the whore's pussy as he spoke into the receiver. "Pacelli. This better be good, because I'm paying this chick by the hour," he growled.

"Sal, it's almost ten in the morning. You're the only lawyer I know who keeps these kind of weird hours," the voice said. Sal recognized it. It was his only client.

"I'm the only lawyer you know who does this kind of work, Frank," Sal told Frank Boyd, the voice on the other end of the phone. "What do you need?"

"Oh baby, give it to me!" the whore said, loud enough that Frank could easily hear it through the phone. Sal looked down at the woman in amusement, and she grinned up at him. She'd done that on purpose. The tip went up again.

"Sal, I need you to get to Prescott. In Arizona. The wunderkind has got himself mixed up in something, and there's a package," Frank told him. Frank was either worried his phones were tapped or there was someone else in the room with him. 'Package' was their code phrase for a dead body. What the hell had Victor Romano done?

Sal frowned. He pulled out and hopped off the bed, which creaked loudly in protest. The girl looked up at him, puzzled. He snapped his fingers, pointed at her clothes and gestured to her to get up and get dressed.

"Hold on a moment, Frank," Sal said. He cradled the receiver against his shoulder, pulled two hundred dollar bills out of his wallet, paused, then grabbed another hundred and handed the cash to the girl. "Sorry, hon. Business. Close the door behind you," he told her.

She shrugged, tipped her head in thanks for the cash -- the extra hundred was a very large tip for two hours work - threw on her skirt and top and was out the door in less than thirty seconds. She was clearly used to making quick exits.

"Okay, sorry, Frank. Let me get this straight. Romano is in Prescott, and he's gotten his hands dirty?" Sal said, rubbing his eyes. His penis, which had remained erect through the first few minutes of the phone call, finally started to wilt. Sal knew Romano, knew he was as strait laced as anybody his age should have any right to be, with a pretty young wife and newborn baby. The idea that he could have killed somebody made no sense at all to asal.

"Nothing like that, Sal. It's his wife. Apparently, there was an explosion -- he said the car blew up -- and his wife is dead. He and his little girl are okay, but it sounds to me like some of our 'friends' tried to get him. I need you to go down there and handle things. Understand?" Sal could hear the quotation marks around the word 'friends' and knew Frank was talking about the Mob.

Sal felt a twinge of sympathy for the poor kid, but thirty years as a lawyer, among other things, had hardened him. That twinge was the most he'd felt for anybody not himself in years.

Must be getting soft, he thought. "I understand perfectly," he told Boyd. "Where in Prescott is he?"

"Try the Yavapai Community Hospital. If he's not there, go to the Sheriff's office or the morgue," Frank told him. "Call me when you've gotten everything cleared up. And don't let him, under any circumstances, talk to the cops."

"Do I look like a fucking amateur, Frank?" Sal groused. "Of course not. I'm on my way," he said, slamming the phone down on the cradle.

He went into the bathroom, brushed his teeth, and took a handful of aspirin, hoping they'd help keep the hangover at bay a little longer. He couldn't keep drinking now, not with a problem to fix.

That was his job. Sal was a fixer. Many of the casinos had them. His job was to solve problems. Local celebrity gets drunk, slaps his wife around on the property? Better call Sal. One of your dealers is dealing blackjack in the front and heroin out the back? Better call Sal. The new Executive Vice President of Hospitality gets targeted by the Mob, who blow his car up and kill his wife? Better call Sal.

Fifteen minutes later he was on I-40 headed south towards Prescott.

* * *

Monday afternoon, June 7, 2032

The Elysium, Las Vegas

I suppose it was inevitable. The Twin Terrors has been staying in the hotel for the weekend, since arriving for Mom and Sol's wedding. They'd waylaid me once, right before the wedding began, and I'd been waiting for them to waylay me again in the hotel.

What I hadn't counted on was that they'd bring their brother along.

Edward, the Prince of Wales, was a beautiful man. He had the best features of his mother and father, and none of their failings. A full head of beautiful, blonde hair, and a body well-muscled and toned, all wrapped up in the best Bond Street could provide. He had a winning smile, and well chiseled chin and big hands that could do wonderful things. Like right now, his hand wrapped around my cock, slowly stroking it as our legs lay touching. I had my right hand on his thigh, and I could feel the heat coming off his cock as my arm brushed against it,

"Oh God, Jack, every time we see you two together it gets hotter and hotter," Mary said, her arms wrapped around her sister Victoria. The pair of princesses watched Edward and me as we played together on the big bed in his VIP suite. I could have had them upstairs to my apartments, but between my security and theirs, sex in his suite made far more sense, especially as it was connected to the princesses' room. I'd headed down to the 35th floor when they'd texted me earlier today knowing I was in for a fun afternoon.

Edward's pretty face was hovering close to mine, and I reached over and gave him a quick peck on the lips, and he playfully nipped my lips with his teeth. His hand began to grip my cock a little harder, moving it faster up and down, and forcing a small drop of precum from the tip, which slowly rolled down my shaft and slickened his hand.

I moved my hand from his thigh and took hold of his manhood, which was hard as nails, and began to tug on it gently. I was rewarded with a groan from Edward's lips, and a shriek of laughter from the girls.

"That's it, Jacky! Give our big bro a sweet handy!" Victoria said. The girls were both nude, just like Edward and I were, and Vickie had her hand between her sister's legs. Mary grinned and then turned her sister's head towards her and kissed her deeply. I smiled back at them and began to kiss their brother in imitation of the princesses.

"I wish Avery and Eva were here," Edward said to me softly, between kisses. "It feels like something's missing without the whole crew," he added.

I pulled back for a second and looked at him. "You've got your hand on my cock and you're kissing me, but you're thinking of Avery and Eva? I see where I stand in this whole business," I told him playfully.

"Oi, Eddie! If you don't want to play with Jacky, let us get a turn, eh?" Mary said, affecting a cockney accent that she often used in sex banter with her siblings.

"Yeah, Edward! I want his cock!" Victoria added, shoving another finger into Mary's sopping wet pussy and earning a squeal and giggle.

"Hey! I just said it would be nice if Avery and Eva were here! I didn't say I didn't want Jack, too!" Edward told them, flipping them off with the two fingered British version of the American middle-finger. "In fact, I want Jack as much as you do," he added, and then he mashed his face furiously against mine, redoubling his efforts on my cock.

I gasped as he did it, taken a bit by surprise by the force he was using. I responded in kind, and soon we were making out hot and heavy, our cocks pumping in time. After a few minutes of this, we broke apart, gasping. I did my best to catch my breath as the girls whooped and hollered at us in appreciation.

"Jack, I need you to fuck me," Edward said, looking directly into my eyes. I grinned at him.

"Here, Jacky!" Mary said, tossing me the lube from her nightstand.

Using those baseball honed reflexes, I caught it in mid-air, flipped the lid and squirted a large dollop onto the tip of my cock. I rubbed it in and then moved in behind Edward. He had assumed the position, flipping himself over onto all fours and presenting his asshole to me. His freshly shaved balls hung down, as did his fully erect cock, and I was looking forward to making it slap lewdly against his stomach as I fucked his asshole.

I thought for a moment that there was probably some stylist out there who had a royal warrant that read "By Appointment to HRH The Prince of Wales, Shaver of Testicles" on the window outside their establishment. Whoever it was did a pretty good job, because Edward was as clean as a whistle.

"Get in there Jacky!" Victoria said, cheering me on. She had her fingers in Mary now, who was returning the favor. The pair were warming themselves up for Edward and me, I could tell.

I put the tip of my cock right at the edge of Edward's ass, then reached around to give a pull on his cock. He laughed as I stroked him, and that loosened him up a bit. I took advantage of him being distracted by my hand to shove my cock deep into his ass, which he took with only a small grunt of pain, and then a longer moan of pleasure.

"Oh yes! Just like that!" he said, his deep voice and posh accent turning me on. His ass muscles began to milk my cock, and I began to thrust into him slowly while I continued jacking him off. I was bent over him partially, my stomach on his back, my hand on his cock, and my cock sliding in and out of his willing asshole.

"I don't ever want to stop watching this," Mary said to no one. Victoria mumbled something in agreement, and soon I saw them kissing again, before the pair fell over together onto the bed, their arms and legs tangled together as they kissed, both doing their best to play with each other, while keeping an eye on what Edward and I were doing.

I must have fucked his ass for a solid ten minutes before he told me he was ready for the next step. I wasn't sure what he meant, but he jerked his head over at his sisters, and I realized he wanted us to fuck them. I grinned and nodded in agreement, and gingerly withdrew my penis from his ass, as he jumped up and scooted towards the princesses.

"Where do you two want it?" I asked them, waving my still well lubed cock at them. Mary and Victoria came up for air, breaking off their fervent kisses to look at each other.

The pair then turned back towards Edward and I, and said together, "Ass!"

I laughed. Edward smiled at them, and I collected the tube of lube from the bed where I'd dropped it. I squirted a dollop onto my hand, and I used that to grease up the prince's pole. I squirted some more onto my cock directly, dropped the tube, and then used my other hand to coat my cock with a second layer of lube.

The girls laid flat on their backs, pulling their legs up close to their heads, presenting their shaved pussies and their pretty pink anuses. We lined our cocks up against their holes and together slowly began to push in.

The girls were ready for us, their long make out session relaxing them, and it wasn't long before I had buried my cock deeply inside Victoria's willing asshole. Next to me, Edward was fucking his sister Mary's ass like it was their first time. Mary was screaming with pleasure, while Victoria bit her lip and was nodding at me as if to reassure me that she wanted me to keep pounding her.

It felt like hours, but it could only have been for a few minutes that Edward and I fucked the princesses. But that was all it took. I felt my orgasm starting to rise and I began fucking Victoria more urgently. I couldn't wait to dump my load in her, especially after fucking both her and Edward, and I was hoping Mary wouldn't be upset if I did so without giving her a turn.

The phone rang.

I could hear the phone, still in the pocket of my shorts, which were over on the floor by cuck chair. The speaker blared out "Let It Go" from Frozen, which was my cheeky ringtone for Eva.

"Shit, guys, I'm sorry. That's Eva. I gotta take that," I said. I pulled my cock from Victoria's ass, earning me a boo and a hiss from Mary that was quickly cut off as Edward picked up his pace, fucking her ass harder and faster, while Victoria pouted. Her asshole gaped at me lewdly as I withdrew. I stepped lightly over to where my pants rested and grabbed my phone.

"Hey Eva, what's up?" I asked, taking the call. I sat down in the cuck chair to watch the siblings play with each other, casually stroking my cock to stay hard as I spoke on the phone.

"Jack, Avery has gone nuts," Eva said into the phone in a whisper. "I'm in the bathroom. She's been on the phone all morning setting up meetings and making plans. You've got to stop her."

"Wait, hold up. Setting up meetings and making plans about what?" I asked. "The new jobs don't start until next Monday, not today. She doesn't need to be doing anything until then. None of us do," I added.

"It's not about the new PR job, Jack! Did you see the news about the Congressional race?"

Mary gasped as Edward pulled his cock from her asshole, shifting over to Victoria, who was waiting patiently for someone to fuck her while I was on the phone. Mary didn't miss a trick, rolling over to open the nightstand, from which she withdrew a large, black rubber dildo. She found the tube of lube and used it to cover the fake dong. She got back on the bed and slid the big black cock substitute into her ass, filling herself up now that her brother had shifted his attention over to her sister.

She looked at me, licked her lips and mouthed "I'm waiting for you."

I swallowed, then answered Eva. "Uh, no. I've been a bit ... indisposed," I said. Victoria shrieked loudly that she was about to cum, and Edward grinned over at me.

"Is that the princesses I hear?" Eva asked me, and I could hear the smile in her voice. "Damn, I wish I was with you," she said. "Tell them they owe us a romp when we get back to the Elysium, okay?"

"Eva says you three owe her and Avery when they get back," I told the girls.

They both grinned at me, but Vickie was too busy cumming to do much more than that, and Mary had her hands too full, stuffing her ass with the dildo, to bother replying. They continued pleasuring themselves.

"Three?" Eva asked. "Is the prince there, too?"

"Yep," I said. "You girls are missing out. Next time don't leave me alone for two days. But don't change the subject and leave me hanging," I told her. "What is going on with Avery?"

"Apparently that woman that Avery got fired is running for Congress and Avery's flipping out. She's called Senator Bentley, the Vice President, and half a dozen other people, and she's already asked me to set up a meeting for her with my father, of all people!"

"Which woman she got fired? Avery's gotten a ton of people fired over the years with her writing," I asked. This was getting weirder and weirder. I had no idea who Eva could be talking about.

"That politician! The one who was fucking her dog! I can't remember her name. B-something, I think," Eva added, exasperation creeping into her voice.

"Best? I think that's her name," I said after a moment's hesitation.

"Yes! Best! The dog fucker!" Eva said, a slight giggle in her voice. I appreciated that she could find the humor in all this, but I was getting a little annoyed. Why did I need to know this now? Mary was right there, waiting for me...

"So ... Avery is trying to stop the dog fucker from getting elected? What's wrong with that?" I asked. If Avery wanted to torpedo the former Speaker's chances, I was fine with that. I couldn't have cared less about local politics. Especially when I was trying to get off.

"No, Jack! She says she's going to run against her!"

That changed everything. I was stunned. Avery wanted to run for Congress? I stopped jerking my cock, and I immediately felt my boner start to flag.

"Wait, what? She wants to run? For Congress? Seriously?"

"Yes, Jack! I tried to dissuade her, but she is adamant. You've got to do something!" Eva sounded desperate. Now I understood why Eva had to call and interrupt my playtime with the royals.

My mind raced. This wasn't anything I'd ever considered, not something we'd ever talked about. We were supposed to take over the Oasis together, get it rebuilt and redesigned, and run the place as a troika. That was what we'd agreed on months ago, when we first started dating. I didn't think there'd be room in there for a Congressional run, even if that was a good idea, which it sure as shit wasn't.

I stood up and started pacing, my back to the bed.

I knew from my time in DC that political races were expensive and nasty, especially if you've got skeletons in your closet, and Avery certainly had those. What happened between her and her brother, her brother's suicide -- all of that was a potential headline for somebody with an axe to grind. And one thing was for sure - Avery had made plenty of enemies during her time as a reporter. They would be lining up to take a giant dump on her if she put herself into the spotlight by running for office.

"Okay, Eva. Get her back here to the Elysium and we can talk about this tonight," I said.

"I will, Jack. Please, just get her to see reason, okay? I'm worried," Eva added.

"Don't worry, babe. We'll figure this all out together. I'll see you soon," I told her. "I love you."

"Love you, too, Jack," Eva said, and she hung up. I heard the three beeps signaling the end of the call, and I turned to find Edward, Victoria and Mary laying together on the bed, the girls flanking their brother, and all of them staring at me.

In my distraction, I hadn't noticed that after Victoria had cum, Edward pulled his dick from Victoria's ass and replaced the fake cock in Mary's with his real one. After Mary came so had he, dumping his load inside Mary. Now they were cuddling and waiting for me to finish my phone call.

"Is everything okay, Jack?" Edward asked. He had a friendly look of concern on his face, and it made my heart rise a bit. That the heir to the British throne gave a shit about the mundane aspects of my life was still something I was getting used to.

"I hope so, Ed," I told him. He smiled when I used the nickname. I was pretty sure I was the only one who called him that. "Avery's in a tizzy about some local political stuff, and apparently thinks she wants to run for Congress."

"That would be ace!" Victoria said. "We'd have to come back to DC all the time to see you guys!" Mary made similar noises.

Edward was no dummy and it seemed clear he could tell I was concerned. The look of concern on my face was mirrored by a similar one on his. "I take it you don't think that's a good idea?"

"I don't know what to think yet," I said, honestly. "This isn't anything I ever thought I would have to deal with." I was still processing the news. That Eva had told me rather than letting Avery broach the subject meant she was very, very worried. I knew Avery would be beyond pissed that Eva had come to me first, and so did she.

I needed to think about all this with a clear head. Not while I was sitting naked in front of the prince and the twins, and not while I was horny.

"Is there anything we can do to help?" Edward asked.

I thought for a moment, and then I grinned. "Be free tonight? Let me talk to the girls and if maybe I can distract Avery a bit with your cock. She loved our last group session," I told him.

"Anything we can do," he said.

I should have let them finish me off, but my brain was too taken up with the immediate problem of what to do about Avery, that all I wanted was to run upstairs and take a cold shower and think the whole thing through, alone. I explained that to the trio, who were completely understanding, which I appreciated very much.

I gathered up my clothes, gave the princesses a brief kiss each, which they accepted playfully, each making a grab at my crotch. I gave Edward a longer kiss, which started the girls both oohing, and then I turned, still naked, and left their suite. This was the Elysium, and I knew better than to try to get out of my walk of shame.

Outside, I passed the two British SO14 Royalty Protection Command officers who were in charge of the Prince and Princesses' protection detail. They were joined by one of the Elysium security staff. The two British cops' eyes bugged out of their heads when they saw me step out of the room naked, but the Elysium staffer just waved and nodded. I made my way down the hall to the elevator, and up to the Penthouse and straight into the shower. After a half an hour of cold water, my head was clear. Clear enough to realize I needed to talk to Avery and Eva before I did anything else.

I texted them to meet me at Ciel Bleu for drinks later, and then I tried to busy myself with work to fill time. I had a lot of phone calls to make.

As I pulled up the list of work Claire had left me, I sighed loudly.

Avery wanted to run for Congress.

This was going to get messy.

* * *

Monday afternoon, July 25, 1983

The Oasis, Las Vegas

Winston had to admit that hiring Belle Dix had been one of the smartest things he'd done in a while. It had been many, many months since he'd had a dedicated fuck toy in the office. The last one had almost soured him of the practice -- she'd gotten too clingy and had started lording her status over the rest of the staff. It had finally come to a head when she'd tried to order his secretary Jennifer around. Jennifer was his closest confidant and the only other person in Vegas who knew the full extent of his business interests and relationships. Nobody fucked with her if Winston had anything to say about it.

That mistake on his fling's part had let to her quick firing, and the woman's criminal history -- she'd been picked up twice for solicitation of prostitution -- had somehow managed to find its way over to the Las Vegas Tribune. It had been a slow news week, and the Trib had run a small story on her and her ignominious departure from the Oasis. The result of that article left her scurrying back to Detroit with her pretty black tail between her legs.

Winston missed her sometimes -- she had a great ass -- but Belle more than made up for it. And the best part was that while Belle was just as young and enthusiastic, she was also completely discreet. Well, as discreet as he let her be. She was ordered to dress provocatively while she was in the office, and Winston had already started calling her in at random times during the day for extended fuck sessions. He couldn't get enough of her.

This Monday afternoon was no different. Wearing a short, pleated skirt and loose blouse with no bra, it hadn't taken long for her to catch Winston's eye, and he called her into his office and told Jennifer to hold his calls just after lunch.

Even before the door to the office was closed, she sank to her knees, reaching up to unbuckle his belt and unzip his khakis. The door clicked shut as his cock emerged, half-erect, from his pants, which soon fell to the floor to bunch up around his ankles.

Winston looked down, the beard he had recently begun to grow itching slightly as he watched Belle's pretty, black mouth work him over, soon bringing him to complete hardness. Her tongue swirled around the tip of his cock, tickling him in just the right places. He threw his head back and closed his eyes, his mouth open and a small sigh of pleasure the only sound he made.

This went on for some time, until he couldn't take it anymore. He pulled Belle to her feet, laid her back on his large, teak desk and spread her legs. He'd forbidden her from wearing underwear to work, and as he flipped the edge of the skirt up to access her fresh pussy, he found it winking lewdly at him below a thick patch of curly black pubic hair. He'd been meaning to tell her she needed to trim the hedges a bit, but it always seemed to slip his mind after they were finished.

He spat on the end of his cock, getting it wet with moisture, as he softly probed the folds of her pussy with his fingers. She was wet and waiting for him, and it took him only a few heartbeats to line his cock up before he eased into her, the warmth of her pussy sending a shiver up his spine. He groaned in appreciation and soon began to pump his cock in and out of her willing pussy.

Winston had no idea if Belle was actually into him, or if she was just a good actress. For him, it didn't matter. As long as she was available to him when he wanted, that was good enough. The fact that she seemed both willing and excited to fuck him was just gravy. He needed to thank his daughter for recommending Belle come to him for a job.

Winston began thinking of his daughter, Sheba. She was attractive, funny and loved attention from her favorite "Uncle." He'd never felt any kind of sexual urge for a family member before -- until now. He knew if he wanted her, he could probably have her -- she had no idea he was actually her father after all, and she knew very well that he liked to fuck the staff. To be honest, she'd probably wondered why he'd never come on to her. It was something to think about. That being said, Winston wasn't sure if he'd ever cross that line. It was a hard one to contemplate stepping over.

The risk wasn't really worth it, even if the temptation was extremely enticing. He began to imagine what it would be like to fuck Sheba.

The phone rang.

The harsh ringing of the office phone cut through the illicit fantasy he'd been having and brought him back to reality. He saw the call was on his direct line. Only a handful of people had that number.

Winston didn't care. The thoughts of Sheba, combined with Belle's enthusiasm, had gotten him so turned on all he could think of was dumping his load in her sweet pussy, phone calls be damned.

The phone continued to ring, but Winston ignored it. Finally, Jennifer picked up the line in the outer office, after she realized Winston wasn't going to answer it.

Winston kept fucking Belle, and he could feel his climax was close. He pawed at her tits, enjoyed the moans coming from her as he watched her breasts jiggle below him, a small smile on her face.

The intercom on his desk squawked on. "Winston, it's Jimmy Catena. It sounds urgent."

That killed the mood faster than a bullet to the brain. The Chin was calling him? On the phone?

This was unprecedented. The Chin never used the phone, and in twenty two years of working with the Mob he'd never gotten a phone call from any member of the Family, for any reason. They did everything by couriers and handwritten notes that were destroyed as soon as they were received.

Winston felt his dick begin to flag, but he kept it inside her, pausing to push the respond button on the intercom. "Transfer the call back in here, Jennifer," he said, slightly breathless.

He began to rock his hips, trying to get his rhythm back, but it wasn't happening. He could feel the blood starting to leak from his cock. The phone rang again, and he picked it up instantly.

"Chesterfield," he said.

"Meet me at the Spot in fifteen minutes," the voice, unmistakably that of Jimmy 'The Chin' Catena. The Chin didn't listen for a response. Before Winston could even acknowledge what he'd heard, Jimmy hung up. The line went dead in Winston's hand.

Winston pulled his cock out of Belle's pussy, earning him a small whine from her pretty lips.

"Sorry, babe. I've got to go," Winston said, pushing his rapidly deflating cock back into his pants and zipping up. "I'll take a rain check. What are you doing this weekend?"

"You," Belle said, her breath still coming in shallow gasps. She had replaced his cock with her fingers and was busy playing with herself. "I'm going to stay in here and finish, if that's okay with you?" she asked him.

He paused for a moment. No one was allowed in his office when he wasn't present. But he did a quick review of his desk, the chairs, everything, and there wasn't anything incriminating in there right now. It had all been taken downstairs to the file room by Jennifer hours before Belle had arrived.

"Sure, babe. Knock yourself out. Just this one time, though, understand?" Winston told her as he threw on his sports coat. "Show yourself out and get back to work as soon as you're done," he ordered. He opened the door to the outer office, leaving his new 'assistant' splayed on his desk, her skirt around her midsection, her blouse wide open and displaying her dark brown breasts. His secretary had a brief glimpse of her as the door opened, which earned Winston a smirk.

Winston smiled at Jennifer and shrugged. "I've been summoned. I'll be back in a few hours. If I'm not back in a few hours, you know what to do," he told her.

That wiped the smirk off Jessica's face. This was their failsafe plan. In the event that anything happened to him that couldn't be explained easily -- unless he had a heart attack, was hit by an asteroid or some other completely obviously natural occurrence -- she was to go downstairs to the file room, collect three parcels, each prelabeled and covered in stamps, and drop them in the mail. One went to Sheldon Weissman at the Trib, another to the editor-in-chief of the Las Vegas Review, and the third went to Las Vegas U. S. Attorney B. Mahlon Brown. They each contained enough information to expose the Genovese operations in Las Vegas and the network of players from Winston through The Chin to the group back east.

It was Winston's insurance policy, and one he hoped he never would need to use. Because if it were used, that meant he was dead.

The Chin had said 'the Spot' and that could only mean one thing, and it wasn't Lorenzi Park. For The Chin, 'the Spot' had always been the Peppermill Restaurant, at the north end of the Strip by the old Key West casino run by the Hemingway family. Just down the street was Slim Wynnman's Starlight, and beyond that, nestled in the heart of the Strip, was the rapidly aging Imperial Hotel and Casino, run by the conglomerate that Frank Boyd and Vincent Romano represented.

Despite the fact that the North Strip was a bit off the beaten path, it was still part of the main drag of Las Vegas and the Peppermill had been one of the unofficial headquarters of the Genovese since it opened in '72. The Chin and a coterie of his hangers on, dubbed informally the 'Wild Bunch,' had been using it as a base of operations and for entertaining guests and themselves. The Peppermill was perfect for a mobster. It was famous, the portions were big enough to satisfy even The Chin's appetite, and almost everybody who was anybody in Vegas went there. It had even been a favorite haunt of former Sheriff Ralph Lamb, who had been working closely with the Feds to push the Mob out of Vegas. They'd arranged for his defeat in the last election, though, but he was still seen there from time to time.

It was on the opposite end of the Strip from the Oasis, so Winston headed for his Cadillac to make the drive up Las Vegas Boulevard. He could have had a driver take him, but this was one thing he preferred to do for himself, even with the inherent risk.

He knew the Mob's penchant for car bombs. It was a rare thing to get behind the wheel of his car without his hand shaking as he turned the ignition.

Today wasn't one of those times. The Chin had never invited him to the Peppermill before. Their relationship had always been strictly professional, at arm's length. That he was being summoned to the restaurant, even during the day, was probably a very bad thing. It could just be an excuse to get him into his car.

Winston took a deep breath, closed his eyes and shakily turned the key in the ignition. He heard the big V8 turn over, roaring to life, and breathed a sigh of relief. He put the car into drive and pulled out of the parking lot.

The Peppermill looked like a neon explosion, even in the middle of the afternoon. It was just after four on Monday, and Winston pulled into the parking lot. He entered the restaurant and made his way over to the lounge, where he found The Chin relaxing in his booth.

Winston sat down. The Chin was tucking into an early dinner -- a massive steak with a baked potato that looked to be the size of a loaf of bread, slathered in cheese, sour cream and at least two rashers of bacon.

"You want something to eat? I'll wave Peggy over if you're hungry," The Chin said by way of introduction.

"No, I'm fine, Jimmy. Thanks," Winston said. "I will take a drink, though," he added.

The Chin snapped his fingers and a cute, twenty-something waitress hurried over. "Peggy, get this man a scotch, neat," The Chin said.

"You got it, hon," the server told him, and rushed over to the bar.

It didn't surprise Winston at all that The Chin knew his preferred drink. He gave just the hint of a smile, his features taut as he waited for the reason behind this summons. He was determined not to say anything until Jimmy did.

Jimmy cut off a fatty hunk of steak, sopped up some of the blood on his plate -- The Chin liked his steaks very rare -- and shoved it into his mouth. He chewed with his mouth open, and it was all Winston could do to keep from puking, watching the man's yellowed teeth mash the chunk of barely dead cow to a reddish pulp before he swallowed loudly.

Peggy brought Winston his scotch, which he thanked her for, and took a small sip. Jimmy cut another piece of steak.

"There's been an accident," Jimmy said, stuffing more meat into his mouth. "Pretty bad one," he added, his mouth full.

Winston grimaced again and then looked down into his scotch to avoid having to watch The Chin eat. "What happened?" he asked, feeling the hard knot in his belly that had formed the moment he'd heard Jimmy's voice on the telephone.

Winston wasn't an idiot. He'd given up Romano last week. He knew the Mob moved quickly. He said a silent prayer that the accident hadn't been fatal. Jimmy had promised him they wouldn't kill Romano, and while Winston had accepted that, a good part of him hadn't really believed it.

"Apparently the idiots at Boyd's company gave Romano an old Pinto station wagon to drive while he got situated here in the city. Cops found it in the desert this morning, all burned up. You know how those Pintos are, gas tanks always failing. I'm surprised Ford hasn't been sued into oblivion by now."

Winston felt the blood drain from his face. He'd done it. The Chin had actually done it. He'd killed Romano. After expressly promising Winston he wouldn't do it, he'd done it anyway.

"You promised me," Winston growled, his hands clenching into fists. "You told me you wouldn't do this. He had a wife and daughter!"

"They were in the car," The Chin said, putting his knife and fork down on his plate and wiping his fat lips with a napkin. "It was his wife's birthday apparently, and they went to the Grand Canyon sightseeing. It happened on the way back. What a tragedy for the Romano clan," he added. There was no emotion in his voice, no emotion in his eyes, just the cold, matter-of-fact tone of a stone-cold sociopath.

"You piece of shit," Winston barked. "You promised me!"

"I did, and I'm sorry. If it's any consolation, we'd already identified Romano as the leak. Hemingway fingered him early, knew he had a photographic memory and was the only guy in the room you all didn't know," The Chin said. "You only confirmed what we already knew."

"If you knew, why threaten me?" Winston asked angrily. "Why put me through a week of hell?! I wrestled for a solid week on whether to tell you. I was almost willing to let you kill me to keep the kid safe! He didn't deserve this, his family didn't deserve this! He was a nobody! He didn't hurt you at all talking to Weissman!"

"Sorry, Winnie. It wasn't my idea. The guys back east thought you were getting soft. I mean, softer than you apparently are. Why you give a shit about this clown, I don't know. The bosses wanted to test you, see what you'd do. But hey, you passed the test, Winnie. Good for you. Don't blow it now by getting all sentimental."

Winston downed the rest of the scotch and slammed the glass onto the wooden table. The glass cracked, the sound echoing throughout the Peppermill like a gunshot. "I can't believe you, Jimmy. Twenty-two fucking years and you people are still questioning my loyalty! You can all go fuck yourselves. I'm done."

"What do you mean?" The Chin said, looking at Winston placidly, pushing his plate away and folding his fat sausage fingers in front of him.

"What I just said. I'm done. Fuck off. There's no more skim. I'm through. You guys fucked up royally this time, and I'm not going to cooperate anymore. And don't think you can fucking threaten me, either. You know I've got enough dirt to roll the entire family, so you better stay the fuck away from me, from my family and from the Oasis. Anything happens to me, and I will take this entire cesspit of a city with me, understand?"

Winston began to stand up. The Chin reached out and grabbed Winnie by the arm, stopping him from standing. Winston tried to shake him off.

"Sit down, Winnie. Let's talk this--"

"Fuck you, Jimmy! There's nothing to talk about. Stay the fuck away from me and my hotel!"

"Excuse me, Mr. Catena? There's a call for you, sir," the waitress said, coming up to the table. She looked abashed, like she knew she was breaking into a private conversation. Her eyes bounced from the cracked highball glass in front of Winston to the half-eaten steak congealing in front of The Chin, and up to their eyes.

"Winston, wait here for me. Try to calm down and let's discuss this like gentlemen, okay?" The Chin stood up and followed Peggy into the back of the restaurant.

Winston struggled to get his emotions in check. He should just get up right now and walk away. He probably would have if the whole situation hadn't been so shocking to him. Romano, dead. His wife and baby girl, dead. And Jimmy taking phone calls at the Peppermill like it was no big deal -- a man he'd heard denounce the telephone as the devil's plaything and the easiest way to get oneself a one-way ticket to prison. The whole world was going fucking insane, and Winston was right in the middle of it.

He took a deep breath, tried to relax. The blood that was pounding in his ears started to subside, and he managed to get a hold on his emotions, wrestling them back under control. He meant what he said -- he was finished with the Genovese, for good this time. But he knew he couldn't just say that to Jimmy and have it stick. He'd have to get rid of them himself.

How could he do that? He had his insurance policy, but that implicated him as much as it did them. It really only worked if he was dead. He'd have to figure something out. In the meantime, he'd have to eat what he'd said to Jimmy, paper it over with fake apologies, and then come up with a plan. And he'd have to get Sheba, her husband and his grandson out of Vegas and out of reach of the Genovese. That much was certain. His brain worked the problem over and over while he waited.

A few minutes later, a very agitated Jimmy Catena returned, sitting roughly in his chair, taking up his fork and knife and plunging them angrily into the baked potato.

"He's still alive. They got the wife and daughter, but Romano is still alive!" Jimmy told him, anger flowing off him in palpable waves. "That's bad luck for me, and bad luck for you if you even think about telling him we were behind this. Understand? And I don't know where the fuck you get off thinking you can walk away from us, Winnie. We own you. You don't decide we're out, only we can decide that. Get that through your thick skull before I have to crack it!"

Winston felt a slight bit of relief at that news. Romano being alive made his decision much easier. He'd have a natural ally in Romano, who would definitely want to get back at the Genovese for what they'd done to him. And through Romano, he'd have Weissman on his side, too. What had felt like a suicidal fight of Winston vs. the Mob was suddenly a much more realistic proposition.

Still, he'd be a monster not to feel anything at learning that Romano's wife and newborn daughter had been murdered. He felt a profound sense of grief settle over him, and it took him a few seconds to compose himself.

"I'm sorry I said that, Jimmy," Winston finally croaked out, his voice barely above a whisper. "I thought you'd broken your promise to me and then you told me it was all a fucking test all along. Can you understand why I'm upset?"

The Chin was still angry, but he'd begun to calm down. He left his knife and fork sticking in the baked potato and rubbed his face. "I get it, Winnie. But look at the bright side. I didn't break my promise after all," he said. "I promised we wouldn't kill Romano, and we didn't. So how about we forget all about this conversation, okay?"

He took the knife and fork back into his meaty hands and began to slice a chunk of potato, which he shoved into his mouth.

Winston sat there and watched as The Chin began to demolish the potato. It was as if nothing had happened -- no anger, no shouts, no threats. Jimmy just went back to eating his supper.

"Okay, Jimmy. I'll have the next pick up ready for you all by the usual day," he added. Winston stood up and took a step away from the booth.

"Thanks, Winnie. Keep up the good work," the Chin said, waving at Winston, who turned and stalked out of the restaurant.

Winston made it halfway back to the Oasis when he pulled over abruptly, earning him a bevy of angry curses and honking from the cars behind him. He'd stopped beside a phone booth. He hopped out of the car, leaving the engine running, and pulled a quarter from his pocket. He dialed Weissman's number from memory and listened to the phone ring.

"Weissman," the voice on the other end said, the unmistakable sound of a woman moaning in pleasure came through the phone.

Guess I'm not the only one getting some afternoon delight in the office, Winston thought. And having it interrupted by bad phone calls.

"It's Chesterfield," Winston said. "We need to meet. Now. I've got news."

* * *

Monday afternoon, June 7, 2032

Naked City Motel, Las Vegas

This was the last day. Eli was going to tell his brother this was the last day. It didn't matter if he got the job at the Elysium, it didn't matter if he couldn't pay for school, and it didn't matter what Curtis said or how he reacted when Eli told him. Elijah just couldn't take any more rejection.

Eli sat at the top of the bed, his cock in his hand as he stroked it slowly. Below him, his brother fucked the plump, white wife who was their first client of the day. They were going at it missionary as Elijah watched. His back was against the wall, his legs spread with the woman's head just below his crotch.

"Oh! Fuck me, baby! Give me that big black cock!" the wife purred. She'd been extremely vocal, this one. Every other word was about big black cock, and she had a real Queen of Spades tattoo on her left leg, not one of those temporary jobs. Over in the cuck chair sat a meek, absurdly skinny, dork of a guy with round, Harry Potter style glasses, his hands folded neatly in his lap, concealing the erection that was only slightly tenting his pants. "Breed me, baby! I want your black bastard in my belly!"

Red Dog grunted with the effort, as he stroked his dick in and out of the woman's pussy. The woman was probably in her mid-fifties, her face starting to show her age, and she carried much of her extra weight in her breasts and her thighs. Those breasts were a bit saggy, with large areolae that were as wide as saucers, ending in big, eraser thick pink nipples. She pulled and twisted them harshly as Red Dog fucked her. Her hair was cut in a short, brown Karen-style hairdo, which was completely incongruous to the things coming out of her mouth.

She should be asking for the manager, complaining about her Pumpkin Spice Latte, not begging to be bred by a virile Black youth.

Elijah sighed and continued to stroke his cock. He knew he and his brother were both were thankful for the Viagra they'd taken before today's session, because he didn't think either of them would have been able to keep it up without it. Fucking this woman was like fucking their high school math teacher.

Elijah's eyes narrowed, looking closely at the middle-aged white woman's face. He couldn't be sure, but it might, in fact, be their high school math teacher. Elijah tried to put the thought out of his head, instead letting his mind wander.

He wasn't going to finally get laid today. Despite the fact that this woman seemed to be a hardened black cock addict, she'd taken one look at Elijah's massive cock, laughed and shook her head no. She hadn't even touched him. It was as if she was afraid that he'd break her just by putting that cock anywhere near her pussy, so he'd been relegated to watching and jerking off, being ready to give the woman a faceful of jizz if and when she asked for it.

Elijah looked at the time on his Apple watch. It was just after four in the afternoon. This was one of their earliest sessions, and the only reason it was scheduled so early was because his brother had double booked them for today. Elijah was silently happy that there were two sessions today, if only because that would put a considerable amount of money in his brother's pockets and that might take the sting out of what he was going to tell him later.

"Give it to me! Make my worm of a husband watch as a real man plows my cunt!" the woman urged. Elijah looked over at the husband to see his reaction to what his wife was saying, but the man just sat there, politely, not moving, his eyes riveted to the scene in front of him. He didn't twitch, his face didn't change, his eyes were focused solely on the thick slab of black meat that was sawing in and out of his wife's pussy. Red Dog looked over at the cuck, smiled, then redoubled his efforts, slamming his cock into and out of her and earning a squeal of delight from their math teacher.

Elijah shook his head to get that image away, saying a silent prayer that this wasn't actually their teacher, although the longer the sex went on, the more certain he was becoming that it was.

The phone rang.

The Apple watch on Elijah's arm was new, purchased with some of the money Jack Fisher had given him a few days ago when he'd ventured over to the Elysium to find Bunny and get a job. Jack had told him to spend some of it, so he'd felt obligated to do so -- a few hands of blackjack, where he'd lost a hundred bucks, and this Apple watch. The rest of it was in his savings account at the Bank of Nevada. He was still getting used to the thing, but he knew the pulses on his wrist indicated a phone call was coming in.

He lifted his left arm and saw the number, which he didn't recognize, but the caller ID read "The Elysium Hotel." His stomach gave a leap.

"I've gotta take this call," he said to no one in particular, then hopped off the bed, grabbed his pants with his phone in the pocket, and locked himself in the bathroom. It's not like they needed him.

His brother didn't miss a beat, nor did the woman he was fucking. They were moaning and groaning together. The cuck in the chair didn't even notice he was gone, his eyes mesmerized by the cock pummeling his wife's pussy.

"Hello?" Elijah answered, as he sat on the toilet. His erection throbbed in front of him, the two Viagra he'd taken ensuring it stayed stiff no matter how distracted he became.

"Hello, is this Elijah?" the voice said. It sounded vaguely familiar.

"Yes, it's me. Who's this?"

"Elijah, it's Jack Fisher. We met the other day at the Elysium Hotel," Jack told him.

Elijah smiled. "Hey Jack! Thanks again for the money. You didn't have to do that, man," he told his benefactor. "You have no idea what it means to me."

"Happy to help, bro," Jack said. "So, I went over your application with Misaki and our HR folks. And, unfortunately, I don't think we have any positions at the Elysium that you'd be a good fit for," Jack told him.

Eli closed his eyes. This is what he'd been expecting. Of course they wouldn't hire him. He was just some random Black kid with no college degree. He was barely out of high school. He was a nobody from West Las Vegas. Why had he thought he'd even have a chance to get a job at a place like that? Disappointment crashed into him. He looked around the cramped seedy motel bathroom, noticed a roach crawling slowly under the sink, and sighed. He was never going to get out of this place.

"Thanks for letting me know, Jack. I knew it was too good to be true--"

"Hold up, dude. I wasn't finished. I said there were no positions available at the Elysium. But that's not our only property," Jack said, after cutting him off. "I'm taking over the old Oasis next week, and I'm going to need some people over there to help me out. I know you're just out of high school, but I could use a bodyman -- my assistant is becoming my Chief of Staff and she's going to be too busy to do a lot of the basic stuff that I'll need, like getting coffee and the like. I thought this might be a good way for you to break into the business, if you're interested," Jack added.

"Jack, I told you I'd even mop the floors if you wanted," Elijah said, his earlier despair being wiped away like chalk on a chalkboard, being replaced with a vibrant happiness that sent every nerve ending in his body tingling. "I'll do it!"

"Great! Let's meet tomorrow to get lunch, and we can go over all the details. How about noon at the Sports Book in the Elysium? They've got a great burger," Jack said.

"I'll be there. Thank you so much, Jack! I can't believe how generous you've been to me," Elijah gushed.

"You were in the right place at the right time, dude," Jack said, laughing. "Sometimes that's all it takes. See you tomorrow," he added, then hung up.

Elijah set the phone on the sink, jumped up and thrust his arms in the air in a victory pose. Through the thin particle board door he heard the woman Red Dog was fucking screaming out that she was cumming, and he heard his brother grunting in that way he did whenever he was busting a nut.

Elijah danced around the bathroom, exulting. He didn't care if he was fetching coffee and picking up laundry, he didn't care what he had to do. He almost didn't care what it paid -- almost. He had a job. A real, legitimate, non-sex related job that paid him and only him.

It was his first step out of this shithole.

After another few minutes, he threw open the door to the bathroom. His brother was closing the door behind the couple, who were leaving. Red Dog was still naked, his cock hanging low and glistening with wetness. The door closed with a click, and his brother turned to face him.

"What the fuck was that about, Boog?" Red Dog snarled at his brother. "Why you walkin' off in the middle of a session? Who the fuck be calling you at fo' on a Monday?"

"Nobody," Elijah lied. He would break the news to his brother when Curtis was in a better mood. For now, it was nobody's business. "It was spam. I just didn't want to sit there and watch you fuck our math teacher anymore. You didn't need me anyway," he added.

"Oh shit! Was that who that was? I thought she looked familiar, yo," Red Dog said, a big grin spreading across his face. "I don't think she recognized us," he laughed.

"She wasn't looking at our faces, that's for sure, and neither was her husband," Elijah agreed, a small smile creeping onto his face as the absurdity of the situation hit him fully. It was also hard not to smile with the news of his impending entrance into the workforce buoying his spirits.

"Ain't that right," Curtis said, walking over to the pile of clothes on the floor. He threw on his white t-shirt and shorts, affixed the red bandana from his back pocket that would signify his membership in the Bloods, and sat on the bed. "One more of these tonight, in two hours. I'm gonna go down to the Dry Cleaners for a bit to talk to Twitch. Order a pizza or something if you want, okay? I'm actually glad you didn't nut," Curtis went on, gesturing vaguely at his brother, who was still naked and whose massive cock was still stiff as a board. "Tonight's gonna be interesting. Booked a pair of lesbians looking to try their first cock," he told Elijah.

Elijah nodded and got dressed himself, sighing inwardly. Another session he would barely get to participate in. He didn't think there was any chance these two women would be interested in him -- if they'd never taken a cock before, they would surely balk at his enormous size, just like his math teacher had this afternoon.

Elijah shook his head, groaning to himself. One more night, he thought to himself. Then I don't ever have to do this again.

Monday night, June 7, 2032

The Elysium, Las Vegas

The view from our family table in Ciel Bleu was spectacular. The sun was setting behind the Elysium and the sky was full of brilliant pinks, purples and reds, all blending together over the desert. It had rained earlier in the day, but now we were just getting the benefit of a lovely and rare pink sunset.

As the sun dropped in the sky, I sat thinking over the day's events. In one week, I'd be moved into the Oasis, and it would be sink or swim time. I was slowly working my way through many, many phone calls, on the list that Claire, my assistant, had drawn up for me. She was technically on vacation, visiting my best friend (and her boyfriend) Ben's parents in Nigeria, but that hadn't stopped her from stepping immediately into her Chief of Staff role to give me a list of things to do while she was overseas. Finalizing our personnel for next week was top of the list.

I'd been making calls, trying to confirm the staffing choices Eva, Avery and I had made for the Oasis. Most of the work had been done, but I still had to reach out to the various people I'd made job offers to, including that kid Elijah I'd met Sunday, to confirm they'd accepted and were ready for next week. Of all the people I called, he'd been the most enthusiastic, and I was happy he was excited about the gig. Claire would certainly be happy not having the fetch parts of her old job anymore, and I hoped the two would get along.

I took a sip of my scotch and felt the burn as it traced a line down to my stomach. It shouldn't have done that -- when I could feel the booze going down all the way, that was my body's way of telling me I was stressed out -- and I made a mental note to get down to either the gym or the gun range to try to work off my worries.

Granted, I should have been completely relaxed. After all, I'd spent an hour fucking and sucking with Edward and his sisters. But despite that, I'd not managed to get off, thanks to Eva's frantic phone call. Each of them had left satisfied. I hadn't.

And I didn't expect much from dinner, either. I noticed that the restaurant was nearly full, which was surprising, it being a Monday, but Sol had told me things had been going swimmingly in the Elysium lately, with all the press from the various events and Nyla's porn studio prompting a significant uptick in bookings.

I noticed at least one couple making out in the main dining room, and I'm sure there were plenty of roaming hands and fingers under the tables that I couldn't see. I took another sip of scotch and tried to smile to myself, but the smile wouldn't come. I was worried.

Avery was rarely impulsive, unlike me. But I knew she could be stubborn, which was very like me. If she'd gotten it into her head that she wanted to run for Congress, dissuading her was going to be difficult. But I felt compelled to do it.

It's not that I didn't think she could win -- she could do anything. The woman was amazing, she was beautiful, and she was smart as a whip. I wasn't worried about that at all. What I was worried about was what was going to happen to her -- and to us -- the minute she stepped into the arena and started getting attacked from the dozen other people already in the race. Avery's past -- her relationship with her brother, her father's crimes and his death, which led to her brother's suicide -- would be ample fodder for any other campaign out there, and I was certain the whole tale would come out. You couldn't hide things like that.

Was she ready for that? Was her mother? What would Ainsley say if the press or the other campaigns started poking and prodding those old wounds? She was just as much a victim of her dead husband as Avery and her brother had been. It made me nauseous just thinking about it. I'd already had my personal life thrown on the front page -- partially by Avery -- and I hadn't much liked it. Was I ready for that again? And all this while I was trying to turn the Oasis around, which was a big enough job on its own, even without the complication of a crazy political race thrown in the mix.

Would our relationship survive it? What was going to happen when Avery had to explain she had a boyfriend and a girlfriend, and we were all in it together? Yes, Vegas was very open about sex, and yes, Vegas voters probably wouldn't care, but that kind of spotlight on any relationship, even a conventional one, can be rough. Were we ready for that?

I didn't know. And I didn't know if Avery had thought about any of this stuff yet.

But I was about to find out. Avery and Eva got off the elevator and marched over to our table, and I could tell they had been arguing. Avery's mouth, normally happy and playful, was uncharacteristically stern, and Eva's eyes were red, like she'd been crying. She was trailing behind Avery by a few steps, which was also not like her. If anything, she was usually the one out front.

Avery took one look at me and turned on Eva. "You told him, didn't you?" she demanded.

Eva shrank away, and I stood up and crossed over to them. "It's nice to see you, too, babe," I told Avery, giving her a quick peck on the cheek, while I pulled Eva into a hug. She held her arms at her side and let me just hold her for a few seconds, while Avery stood there glaring at us.

"Let's get something to drink, and you can walk me through this whole thing," I said, trying to play peacemaker.

"You shouldn't have told him, Eva. This is my news," Avery said, as we sat down.

That was apparently the straw that broke the camel's back. Eva bristled visibly, and where she'd been meek before, the Frost Queen suddenly appeared.

"He deserved to know. You shouldn't have done any of what you did today without talking it through with the both of us. That was bullshit, Avery, and you know it!" Eva said harshly, picking up her napkin and angrily folding it and throwing it into her lap.

"I don't have time for that, Eva! The election is in three months! The filing deadline is in two weeks! I've got to get moving and I'm already so far behind all the others!" Avery countered. In an almost comical move, she did exactly the same thing Eva had just done, folding her napkin with a few jerky, angry movements and throwing it onto her lap. Eva looked away, out the window, and Avery looked the opposite direction, towards the main dining room. I saw her eyes bouncing around the room, sizing it up, and I knew she'd noticed the few couples I'd seen getting busy. Her eyes softened a bit, and I thought that could give me an opening.

"Avery, look. Eva and I love you. We want to be there for you, to support you. All of this is pretty sudden, you have to admit, and it would be great if we could talk about it without it ending in an argument. Can we do that?" I was trying to be as conciliatory as I could be.

Avery sniffed, and turned to look at me, giving Eva a sidelong glance. Eva turned her head at the same time, staring straight at me, but also giving Avery the side eye.

"I'm willing to admit I should have probably waited to talk to other people about this until I had a chance to tell you, Jack," Avery said. This seemed to mollify Eva, who relaxed a little and put her hand on the table.

"And I know I shouldn't have called Jack. It was your news to tell, Avery, and I'm sorry. I'm also sorry I interrupted your fun time with the Prince and Princesses, Jack," Eva told me.

"What?!" Avery said. "You didn't tell me that!"

"You were too busy calling every politician we know!"

"Still!"

"Ladies, please!" I said, holding up my hand. "Avery's acknowledged she should have waited, and Eva's apologized. As for Edward and the girls, they're still here, so you guys didn't miss anything. I told them I was meeting you all for drinks, and they were interested in getting together with us later, if we were up for it."

"Good. I miss Edward's cock," Avery said. I smiled at her. I kind of missed it, too. I'd barely had a chance to play with it this afternoon.

"He misses you both," I told them. "And so do the princesses. Anyway, Avery can you explain to me just what the hell is going on?"

For the next twenty minutes, Avery laid out the whole situation. She explained about the Speaker running, why she felt compelled to run against her, and what she'd spent the afternoon doing -- which was essentially trying to get in touch with all of our political allies in the city to let them know she was considering getting into the race and asking for endorsements and money. And she'd put calls in to her old boss, Bob Butler at the Washington Chronicle, to see if he could recommend any political consultants or campaign people she could hire.

"All that's well and good," I told her after she finished. "I get it. But have you thought all of this through? You do know Speaker Best is going to come at you like a spider monkey, right?"

"Of course," Avery said. "I'm not afraid of her. I know exactly who and what she is."

"Does she know who you are?" I asked.

Eva frowned. She knew where I was going with this.

"I have no idea," Avery said. "What do you mean?"

"Avery, I tried to tell you this, but you wouldn't listen," Eva started.

"Well, I'm listening now," Avery said, crossing her arms, and looking away again. Her body language conveyed the exact opposite impression to what she'd just said. It was almost comical.

"Babe," I started, then stopped. I took a sip of scotch, then realized she needed it more than I did. I reached across and handed her the drink. She looked at me for a second, then took it and swallowed what was left in one gulp.

"Thanks, Jack. I think I needed that," she told me. I waved at our server to bring another round, including one for Eva, and then I turned back to face Avery.

"Listen, babe. Political campaigns are dirty. They're mean, they're mean spirited and they're petty. You are going to get dragged through the mud. Eva and I and your mother will probably get dragged through the mud, too. Are you ready for that? Are you ready to have Ethan thrown in your face on TV night after night for three months?" I said, hoping I hadn't crossed a line.

Avery visibly winced when I mentioned her brother's name.

"I hadn't... I hadn't thought..." Avery said, biting her lip. I could tell she was trying to hold back tears.

Eva took her hand and squeezed it. I reached across and placed my hand on top of theirs.

"Listen, babe. I'm not trying to scare you. And I am sorry for bringing this up, because I know it's still raw, even a decade later. But you can guarantee that it's going to come up in a campaign like this. You humiliated Speaker Best, ended her career. She's not going to let you hop into this campaign and kill her comeback without fighting back. So, we have to be prepared for that, okay?"

Avery looked up at me, her big, brown eyes still rimmed with wetness, but suddenly interested again.

"What are you saying, Jack?" Avery asked me, her voice quiet.

"Yes, Jack, what are you saying?" Eva said, staring daggers at me, her voice hard.

"Eva, look. I know Avery. And I know she doesn't go flying off half-cocked for no reason. If she feels this strongly about running, then we owe it to her to at least explore this and see if it makes sense. If we decide it's not worth doing, then we don't do it. But if we do, then we best make sure she fucking wins," I said, forcefully.

"We?"

"Avery, I love you. Eva, I love you, too. We are in this together. If this thing is going to work between us, we've got to all be on the same page. We've got a week until our new gigs at the Oasis begin. Let's take the rest of this week to figure out whether this campaign is the right move or not. Is that fair? Avery, are you good with that?"

She slowly nodded. "I never intended to do this by myself. I can't do this without you," she said. She turned to Eva, and added, "I can't do it without both of you."

"Goddamn right," Eva said. "And if you think for one minute I'm not going to speak my mind, or you're going to try to hide our relationship because it's hard to explain--"

"I would never!" Avery said, horror in her face.

"Damn right, you won't," I told them both. "We have nothing to be ashamed of. We love each other and that's all that matters."

The phone rang.

What the hell was it with the phone constantly ringing in the middle of things today? I thought, fishing my phone out of my pocket. I'd left my watch upstairs in our rooms.

It was Prince Edward.

I held the phone up, facing them. "Girls, as much as I've enjoyed out little chat, I think it would be best if we did our best to put this whole thing behind us. I have a much better idea for how we can spend the rest of tonight," I told them.

Avery grinned when she saw the name on the Caller ID, and Eva squealed in pleasure, clapping her hands.

The call was just about to go to voice mail, when I hit the green accept button.

"Ed? Get your sisters. I've got the girls, and they were just telling me how much they missed your cock," I told him. "You three owe me an orgasm, too, and I'm coming to collect it," I added.

The Prince laughed loudly and told us he and his sisters were waiting.

I hung up the phone, grabbed Eva and Avery by the hand and pulled them to the elevators.

I knew we had a lot of big decisions to make, and lots of plans that needed to be worked out.

But that could all wait until tomorrow.