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He grabbed my head and held it to his,kissing me.

“Just so you know,” he said,pulling me onto his lap, his monster cock an anxious, red-hot pokerseeking entry into my ass. I rode against him for a moment,enjoying the sensation of his cock head rubbing against my asscrack.

I forgot everything as I let thepleasure wash over me. Oh, he was a magnificent lover. I was putty,just molding clay in this man’s big, beautiful hands.

“Mingo, if he ever comesafter you, if he ever thinks he’s going to get near you, he’sgetting fed to the crocodiles, too.”

“Francois, baby…please shutup and fuck me.”

Chapter Three

Ferric declined to return his mother’scall the following morning. There mere suggestion over a fantasticpancake breakfast at Mo’s Midtown almost reduced him torubble.

“I’m not forcing you tospeak to her, sweetheart.” Francois waited until our wonderfulwaitress at the fantastic diner had finished putting our hot andstill-steaming buttermilk pancakes fresh off the griddle in frontof us all.

“So, I don’t have to talk toher?” Ferric asked.

“No. Not at all.”

Ferric cheered up a little.

“I need some bacon,” Momsaid. She knew the way to a man’s heart was through his stomach.“Ferric, don’t you need some bacon, too?”

He nodded. Francois signaledour waitress and we dropped the conversation about Ferric’s mom.Soon, our sunny kid came back into view, laughing and talking aboutthe bloopers in the movie Twilight.

“It was so distracting,” hesaid, pouring maple syrup onto his second stack ofpancakes.

“There’s one scene where theboom mike’s reflected in the truck window and—”

“How about that truck?” Momnudged him. “One minute it’s dirty, the next it’s sparklingclean.”

“Yeah!” Ferric reeled off afew more errors. “Her notebook rotates a full ninetydegrees.”

“You’re the only kid in theworld who would notice this stuff,” I said. “I think that’s socool. You ever think about a career as a moviedirector?”

“There are so many things Iwant to do, Dad. My mind is filled with a million ideas. I thinkI’d like to create and direct videogames. I have a feeling I’m abit like Dad.”

Francois cocked a brow. “Like me?How?”

“I’m a controlfreak.”

I laughed. Francois pretended to beaffronted, but it was true.

“You’re a securityperfectionist,” Ferric said. “I’m more a creative perfectionist. Tome, it has to look beautiful, but it also has to make sense.” Hepaused. “That’s what I want to do.” Light flooded his face. “I wantto make something that’s a combination of those twothings.”

Man, and to think when I wasthirteen, I was still moping about the Repco boys’bicycle.

The bacon arrived and he became alittle boy again.

“What are we going to do inSt. Martin?” Mom asked. “What’s the plan?”

“No plan.” Francois grinned,draining his coffee cup. “I think it’ll be fun to just hang out,eat some good food.”

“Cool,” Ferric said. “I’venever been to the Caribbean.”

“You haven’t?” Thissurprised me. I knew that both Francois and his mom came fromthere.

“But I thought your mom gotmarried and had her honeymoon there,” Francois said.

“She did.” Ferric made aface. “I wasn’t invited.”

My mom’s expression turned fierce. “I’dlike to stop by her house when we get to Miami and kick herbee-hind.”

Ferric grinned, licked his fingers andwrapped his arms around her.

“I love you, too,Grandma.”

Leilani had arranged to pickus up and drive us to the airport. She and Mele were leaving fortheir honeymoon in various towns in the state. They’d borrowed herMom’s Buick again and it was big enough for all of us to squeezeinto until we reached the airport. I was going to miss them, butthey assured us they’d be back in Hawaii a few days after us. Theyhugged us all, paying extra attention to Ferric, who lapped it allup.

“We’re crazy about thewedding gift you gave us,” Mele said to me. “I can’t believe youbought every single one of the La Chamba clay oven cook wear itemswe wanted.”

I grinned. “They’re waiting back homefor you.”

She shook her head. “That’s when I knewI loved my wife, you know. I’ve coveted that Colombian cook wearfor years and so has she.”

I was so pleased. I knew they reallywanted the cooking pots and baking dishes on their bridal registry,so Francois and I bought all the ones they’d listed. From ourhearts to theirs.

“Whose idea was it to wrapthe order confirmation sheets from Williams Sonoma in thatbeautiful box?”

“Ferric’s,” I said. “Itlooked so pretty, didn’t it?”

I remembered what he’d saidat the breakfast table. We could have given them the computerprintout. Of course, they could also just have checked their ownbridal registry, but Ferric made it look spectacular with ribbonsand lace and gorgeous tapa-print paper, in honor ofMele’s Hawaiian heritage. It was a gift, and presentation, that made sense,but it was also beautiful. I think I realized in that moment thatwe had a pretty amazing kid in our lives.

Her eyes moistened. “I love thatboy.”

“So do I, Mele.”

She put a perfect, manicured hand on myarm, then went over to hug him again. Mele was gorgeous. A trueisland goddess. I watched Ferric blush as she thanked him forgift-wrapping the box. Everybody had come up with creative ways ofletting the women know what their gifts would be without schleppingthe heavy items all the way to Hartford, but I knew they wouldnever forget Ferric’s handiwork.

Leilani took me aside.

“Benny wants to talk to you.He’s got some case he wants you to work on. I told him you’re onthe way to St. Martin, but just so I catch a break from his nonstopwhining, call him, will ya?”

I nodded.

“Good man. “Look after eachother,” Leilani said as they took off again.

I felt relief, I must say, that we wereon our way. I didn’t mind leaving Hartford. Especially with thosetwo gunmen on the prowl for tourists.

Our American Airlines flightto Miami was fun. Ferric and I played Scrabble, Francois worked onhis laptop and my mom knitted a sweater for her new grandson. Itwas avocado green, her favorite color in the world. Just ask herkitchen. Contrary to popular belief, it can get chilly inHawaii, especially inwinter. Our home on the North Shore is also very prone to severestorms that are a goldmine to surfers. Oh, come December, he wouldneed the sweater. But did anyone in the world need one the color ofavocadoes?

Apparently my mom