Chapter 11

By the time Grover got back to the office, he was still irked at Santori’s resistance. Realizing that the young man was more like himself at that age than he realized—resistant to criticism that didn’t agree with his ideas—he was confident he could shape the young pup into the kind of dutiful employee he’d been successful in achieving with all others to this point. Wondering how he would keep another alpha male at bay under his control he looked forward to the challenge yet was irritated by the effort it might take. Considering the opinions of Clay and Dotty, he understood that Pete had a soft side that should make his job easier. The company needed a man with Santori’s strength and vision to achieve Grover’s goals of expanding it into a world force. So, getting the young man on board was of the utmost importance. Every man has his price he thought. Shit, I’ll kick the salary up fifty-thousand dollars and add another fifty to the signing bonus. He chuckled as he considered, It’s nice to be able to afford anything I want. He got a belly laugh when he thought it’ll be interesting to see how his wife’s attitude about moving to Texas will have changed. That fucking Murdock is a miracle worker. I’ll kick him up twenty-five grand. He’s worth it.

Pete didn’t know where he was going. He just needed to get away. Holding himself in check as he drove through town he reasoned, no need to get a ticket or have an accident because I’m pissed. He had never been so angry, confused, or driven to revenge in his life. He knew he wasn’t being rational. I need to talk with Lydia ... that BITCH. But he knew if he talked with her now their marriage would be over, “That Bitch,” he said as he slammed the steering wheel with his fist.

When he got far enough out of town he stopped at an abandoned gas station, laid his head on his arms on the steering wheel, and began sobbing. “Jesus,” he said, “how could I have fucked up so badly?”

Though crushed at his wife’s infidelity he said, “But I’ve been fucking Dotty and Silk. What an ASSHOLE.” Even as remorse filled his mind it competed with his basic macho arrogance as he thought, But if every traveling man’s marriage ended in divorce because of “sport-fucking” marital bliss would be a complete joke. It’s just sex. Just a way to relieve a need. That’s why whorehouses will never disappear, ‘what goes on in Vegas stays in Vegas,’ everybody jokes about it. But a woman has sex for love, it’s not the same as for a man. “That Bitch. I’ve got to call her.” He knew he had to think long and hard.

After driving for over an hour he came to crossroads and stopped for gas. Pulling out his cell phone he entered Lydia’s number. But as he was about to press send, he stopped and said, “You’ve managed to fuck everything up so far. We can clear the air tomorrow.”

His ego had been so badly bruised by his wife’s infidelity that he couldn’t think straight. In the last hour, as he looked at everything from as many angles as he could imagine, he fully realized what a fantastic marriage he and Lydia had until not long ago. It was all good until I made the second trip to Rio Branca. I became obsessed with the fucking project.

He realized what Grover had done. All the grief Thornton Brockmeyer gave him was Grover’s way of testing the waters. Grover also knew that driving a wedge between Lydia and me would work on his behalf. “I’ve got to GET that son of a bitch. But first I need to work on fixing our marriage.” That BITCH he thought she fucked Grover’s cuckolder, “You ASSHOLE Pete Santori. You had the world by the balls and fucked it all up.”

He thought of the players in the drama at Dotty’s house: Marney Nixon had been an unfortunate young girl who had been forced into prostitution and then seduced into serving the powerful Grover. She became Madam of the most successful whorehouse in Texas, not the highest position in society. But in Rio Branca, she was incredibly powerful as long as Grover protected her. She had two bastard children by him.

Clay Burnett, who had originally wanted to be a respected teacher served as sexual caretaker for Grover’s highly libidinous daughters Dotty and Silk. Grover had sex with Clay’s sister Alice and impregnated her, but the baby never went to term. He married her off to another underling and then had them adopt Thornton. Clay, the second richest man in Rio Branca had nothing to show for it other than his subservience to Grover.

Dotty McCord never had a chance. Not only was she born a bastard she was used sexually abused by her daddy and parceled out for sexual favors to Grover’s powerful friends. And I am one of Grover’s minions too? All three had so much to lose yet had conspired to let Pete Santori, the wunderkind outsider, know what Grover had done to make him decide to become second in command at Texas Affiliates. Marney could retire comfortably. Pete knew that Grover wouldn’t take revenge on her. She was wealthy enough to move anywhere in the world and lavishly live out her years. Clay was dying. But Dotty would only be set free when her sex was no longer valuable to Daddy.

Pulling up his mobile phone menu Pete pressed the button for Dotty McCord. “Hello, buckaroo,” was her jovial answer. “I am so sorry you had to go through that. Where are you?”

“Cottonwood Junction Dotty. Can I come see you?”

“That’ll give you another hour to sort a few things out, Pete. I’ll be here if you want me to. But I don’t expect it to be for long.”

“You’re wrong about that Dotty. I don’t know if I will ever see you again so I want as much time as you can give me. I NEED you.” He heard a sniffle on the other end of the line. “Did I say something wrong? I am doing that a lot lately.”

“On the contrary you sweet thang,” her voice quavered. “That’s the first time in my life I’ve heard those words--’I need you.’ You can have as much time as you like ... all night if you want. What time is your plane?”

For the next hour, his thoughts wandered. Moved by Dotty’s need for him he remembered the first night at the Texas Two Step and how electrically sexual she was. Her body was the North Pole pulling at his dick to her mouth and pussy. But more than that she had an endearing quality that would make any man want more than sex from her. But her assignment had only been sex made necessary by the extra two weeks Dotty’s brother kept his thumb on any progress Pete could make while enforcing his real father’s command to delay Pete Santori.

As he thought of how he had seen Dotty and Silk in the mirror at the bar of the Two-Step that night he realized his dick was pressing against his pants as he drove. Struggling with his fly beneath his seatbelt he freed it and suffered a moment of self-loathing as he began masturbating.

“How can I be doing this,” he said as he remembered the first time Dotty went down on him in the car. His reverie switched to the first time Lydia had fellated him. It was in his car as well. He remembered how she had made goosebumps rise on his forearms, and how he shivered as if he was in subzero weather. He remembered the night at Dotty’s when before dinner, with Clay watching through the window while barbecuing steaks, Dotty was on her knees sucking him while Silk kissed him. Surrealistically, it wasn’t Silk, it was Lydia, who said, “My turn Dotty,” and they switched positions.

It took three miles before he was squirming in the seat, clutching the cheeks of his butt together to stave off the inevitable. Then his vision became more surreal. It was like a slomo recap of a porn episode, a threesome where long ropes of semen shot time after time: into Dotty’s mouth, Lydia’s mouth, spattering Lydia’s dark hair, splashing on Dotty’s forehead.

“JESUS.” The vision was interrupted by the tail end of a Lone Star tanker truck which made him stomp on the brakes and just shy of slamming into the rear of the truck that was now distancing itself from the near accident. Gulping for air he pulled off the road to let his mind synch to his beating heart. “Christ,” he murmured, “that’s all I need.”

One thing was for sure, Dotty’s reality seemed synchronized to Lydia’s. When the Rio Branca group made him aware of Grover’s ploy with Lydia and Clint this morning the shock of it overwhelmed him. Three people in the room besides himself had input. Marney’s seemed spiteful, Clay’s was resentful. Dotty’s was conciliatory as she said, “Don’t be mean Mama.” Sure, she had spent a lot of time in bed with him. But Dotty’s was more than the kissing, sucking, fucking, and cuddling. It was more than just sex. It was comfort ... affirmation for his ego. Marney was jaded. How could she not be? But Dotty was supportive—not just of him but to everybody in the room. They were all important to her. If Grover had granted him one boon, it was his time with Dotty. Pete had proffered it with no kindness, just seduction. That she did it all so graciously proved that she had the heart of a good woman.

Dotty had to be ten years older than he, not quite a mother but a big sister or an adoring aunt in an incestuous relationship. She was someone who opened her body for both pleasure and caring making the person inhabiting her intimate spaces part of her goodness. He needed a sounding board: Should I call Lydia now or wait until I get home? Should I go to work for Grover and get back at him within his own company? Or should I talk with Branson Hadley, tell him of the conniving and see what his remedy might be? Should I confess to Lydia my cheating with Dotty or just let sleeping dogs lie?”

By the time he stopped the car in the same place he had peeled out from two and a half hours earlier his mind was more settled. He had no answers but having chewed on his dilemma he was beginning to make sense of it. Dotty didn’t wait for him to come to the door. Barefooted, she raced down the steps and moved quickly to the side of the car before Pete had gotten out. Holding out her arms she said, “Come to Mama cowboy.”

Their hug was complete, their flesh needed the other’s warmth. It was one of those hugs that lasted minutes. When they both cocked their heads and captured each other’s eyes Pete said, “You don’t know how much I needed this hug, Dotty.”

“Yes, I do my fine Italian friend. I wasn’t aware of all the shenanigans ‘til they came out this mornin. But when you left in anger, I thought I would never see you again. I just didn’t know how I would deal with your going away with such bad feelings.”