Masterson

ROMAN

I AM TRYING TO SPEND AS little time at my father's house as humanly possible. This is the second week in a row that I've made sure to stay busy either working, drinking, or fucking random women. I'm not sure how much longer I can keep this going, not when I promised Joseph that I'd handle whatever trouble my little cousin was in. Of course I assured him of all of this way before I spotted her in the middle of the Club Lotus dance floor. Completely before I fantasized about claiming all of her orgasms for the next year. Totally before I propositioned her at my father's birthday party. Absolutely before I learned that she is my fucking cousin.

I've thought about running by the house a million times. Even though I don't live there anymore, I still have a room there. Juliette insisted on it and didn't care what Joseph had to say about it. And even though we have an office on South Broad, Joseph likes to handle a lot of his business out of their home. He's old school. He likes to fax versus email, the phone over texting, and he absolutely prefers talking in person above all of that. I think it's because he likes to look you in the eyes and see if you're lying or not. So he's always asking me to swing by the house to talk to me about this or pick up that. I should have been by the house a million times by now.

But I can't do it.

Why? Because when I'm near Elizabeth I have this unexplainable craving to touch her. Now that I've held her in my arms once, I can't help but want to hold her again. Preferably in a horizontal position. It's pretty pathetic how I regress into a horny thirteen-year-old boy when I think about Elizabeth. I haven't seen her since the night of Joseph's party, but my dick has been brick hard fantasizing about her every single fucking day since.

Totally wound up last night from all my pent up frustration, I couldn't sleep and found myself thinking about her. Imagining if I stayed over the house and pulled Elizabeth into my old bedroom. I'd sit her on the edge of my bed dressed in only a thong and a pair of heels by my special request. I don't even know if she wears thongs, but hey it's my fantasy. She'd spread her legs on my command, and then I'd get on my knees, slide her thong over slowly and lick her clit expertly and thoroughly until she cried for release.

Fuck.

I don't even want to say out loud to myself how fucked up this is, because blood or no blood, Elizabeth is family. She is Juliette's niece, and I respect Juliette. She's been nothing but good to me ever since I was a kid, which means I need to treat her niece like a cousin; not like my next piece of ass.

The old man is no fool either. If I keep avoiding the house for too much longer he's going to know something is up. He's paid well to know shit before other people do. To sense shit. If he really starts paying any serious attention to my behavior around Elizabeth or rather my inability to be around Elizabeth, he will immediately see right through me, and he won't like it. The only thing keeping the nosy bastard off my case is the fact that he's preoccupied with the Mendez job. A baseball steroids case. It pays a shit load of money if we can get to any potential witnesses, and pay them to say exactly what we want them to say during his hearing with Major League Baseball. Joseph hasn't asked for my help on it yet, which is fine by me. I've got my hands full with a million other things.

In my lame effort to avoid all things Elizabeth this week, I slept with a bank manager named Louise. What a head case. She's been full blown phone stalking me for the last twenty-four hours, and I have no one to blame but myself. I have always forgotten the last woman with the next, but this time the shit isn't working. Instead all I've created for myself is a huge headache. So rather than getting some meaningless head tonight from another possible crazy woman, I've decided to drink myself senseless with the fun snatcher-Camden. Getting trashed with someone more miserable than me is a lot simpler than trolling for pussy.