Encino-M.J

Happiness Is a Warm Gun

Michael woke with a jolt, his chest rising and falling as he frantically sat up on his elbows.

His eyes scanned the bedroom in a panic, squinting slightly to adjust to the lazy Sunday morning sunlight that streamed through the chiffon canopy. He breathed a sigh of relief when he noticed his wife's bare back facing him as she soundly slept on her side, satin sheets draped lazily over her hips.

Without the vice of wine and his wife's tender curves, Michael was unsure he'd be able to sleep at all. They stayed up long after the guest had felt, making love until birds began chirping outside their window.

When he'd finally closed his eyes, however, all he could see were images of the woman he loved in danger.

The fact that his brother was a murderer was not something Michael could not easily accept -not because he liked Jermaine but because the realization left him feeling betrayed, confused, and terrified.

All this time he'd assumed Jermaine's disdain for Althea was just his prejudice against her working-class background when there was a much more sinister reason behind it. The idea that his wife had been unknowingly living in the same household with someone capable of harming her made him feel like a failure of a husband.

Had he known, he would have never taken Althea home to live at Hayvenhurst.

Michael felt horrible for Tito, and he was angry at his parents. He was just a small kid all those years ago, but now he was a man ready to build his own family. Why had they deceived him for so long?

With another heavy sigh, he rolled over and traced his finger along the curve of his wife's back. She looked so beautiful and peaceful lying beside him. Michael could hardly remember how dull his life had been before he met Althea. He couldn't even stomach the thought of living without her.

The tickling sensation caused Althea to stir in her sleep and she sleepily glanced over her shoulder, languidly smiling at her husband.

"Good morning, honey,"

She rolled on her back, exposing her pert yet voluptuous breasts as she stretched her arms above her head. Althea had slept but a mere few hours but her face still held a well-rested glow.

Michael grinned and leaned over to greet her with a kiss.

"How'd you sleep?" He asked, brushing her fringe from her eyes.

"Splendid," she grinned, grasping his broad shoulders. "I had so much fun last night,"

Her husband chuckled, leaning in for another kiss.

"Which part of last night?"

Althea stared up at the ceiling in faux thought.

" Oooh, the Baked Alaska was pretty great. It's hard to beat that,"

She let out a coquettish giggle, gasping slightly at the feeling of Michael's nimble fingers passing between her thighs, a cheeky reminder of why they stayed up so late.

"That's not the answer I was looking for," he replied sultrily.

His wife bit back a moan and squirmed under his touch. Michael had no doubt given her quite the performance during their lovemaking- he needed some way to cope with his chaotic thoughts. The idea of starting a family right away suddenly seemed so appealing. His birth family was dead to him as far as he was concerned.

It was time to make his own.

"That was pretty phenomenal," She grinned, wrapping her arms around his neck. "I don't know about you but I'm famished. I'm gonna get up and make us the best breakfast ever,"