Read Online After Me by Joyce Scarbrough - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Joyce Scarbrough
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guaranteed to work because of McCarthy’s pathological fear of germs. Predictably, he’d insisted that Julian stay home for at least three days to make sure he didn’t return while contagious.
Tonight he would get the girl to accept the car and arrange the details of the drop off. Of course, the actual meeting wouldn’t take place until the following week when McCarthy went to Atlantic City, but Julian intended to require another naughty web cam interlude from her as payment for the Ferrari. That would tide him over until their date, and it made him eager to go home and get started.
After a quick stop at the drug store for some needed supplies, he sped home to his small apartment over his mother’s garage. To keep her from hearing the car and coming to see why he was home early, he turned off the engine at the end of the street and coasted down the driveway. If she started in on him again tonight, he swore he would indulge his lifelong fantasy and finally slit her throat.
Inside his apartment, he pulled down all the shades and closed the nauseatingly ugly duck curtains. God, he hated those mallards in flight that his mother had insisted on because she thought they were so “manly.” How old did he have to be before he could make his own damn decisions?
Once the apartment was soothingly dark, he undressed and booted up his laptop. As always, he smiled as he typed the password that unlocked the private world his mother couldn’t infiltrate: matricide. The graphic images on the desktop had ceased to titillate him the way they did when they were new, but that was okay. He’d be getting some new ones very soon.
Before sending the chat message to WETNWILD16, he logged in to FaceSpace and went to the page for the new Sugar Daddy group he’d joined. He wanted to check the member list to see if any new greedy sluts had joined. There were several fresh prospects, including one calling herself Cherry Licious. Julian licked his lips and started to click on the profile picture, but he was interrupted by insistent pounding on his door. He closed his eyes and could practically see his mother’s ham-like fist beating on it.
“Julian Francis Pugh, what are you doing in there? Why are you home from work so early? Let me in!”
He grimaced and hurried to the door, leaning against it with his eyes squeezed shut. “Mr. McCarthy let me come home early because I have a stomach bug, Mumsy. I just need to sleep for a while. I’ll be fine.”
More pounding. “Open this door right now, young man! You could be seriously ill. I’m the nurse, not you. I’ll decide if you’re fine or not.”
“No, Mumsy. Please.” He hated the pleading note in his voice, almost as much as he hated her. “I already took my temperature. It’s only ninety-nine. Just a little stomach flu that’s going around.”
“Did you use the rectal thermometer? You know I don’t trust any other method!”
“Yes, Mumsy. Don’t I always do what you tell me? Just let me take a little nap, then I’ll come down and you can check it for yourself.” One of his hands gripped his coarse black hair and yanked hard enough to make his eyes water. God, he disgusted himself.
“Well, I don’t know…”
“Will you make me some soup when I come down later?”
“You mean some of Mumsy’s special chicken soup?” He could hear the grin in her tone and knew he had her. “You love it so much, don’t you, Julie?”
“Yes, Mumsy.” He pinched the inside of his thigh, relishing the pain.
“Okay, go take your nap and then come down to eat your soup. And you’ll be sleeping downstairs where I can check on you tonight, so bring your pillow and jammies with you. We’ll watch ‘Operation Repo’ together.”
“Okay, Mumsy. I will.” When he heard her heavy footsteps descending the stairs, he added, “Yeah, I’ll bring my pillow with me. And after your fat ass is asleep in your chair, I’ll smother you with it.”
But he knew he wouldn’t. He’d wimp
Tonight he would get the girl to accept the car and arrange the details of the drop off. Of course, the actual meeting wouldn’t take place until the following week when McCarthy went to Atlantic City, but Julian intended to require another naughty web cam interlude from her as payment for the Ferrari. That would tide him over until their date, and it made him eager to go home and get started.
After a quick stop at the drug store for some needed supplies, he sped home to his small apartment over his mother’s garage. To keep her from hearing the car and coming to see why he was home early, he turned off the engine at the end of the street and coasted down the driveway. If she started in on him again tonight, he swore he would indulge his lifelong fantasy and finally slit her throat.
Inside his apartment, he pulled down all the shades and closed the nauseatingly ugly duck curtains. God, he hated those mallards in flight that his mother had insisted on because she thought they were so “manly.” How old did he have to be before he could make his own damn decisions?
Once the apartment was soothingly dark, he undressed and booted up his laptop. As always, he smiled as he typed the password that unlocked the private world his mother couldn’t infiltrate: matricide. The graphic images on the desktop had ceased to titillate him the way they did when they were new, but that was okay. He’d be getting some new ones very soon.
Before sending the chat message to WETNWILD16, he logged in to FaceSpace and went to the page for the new Sugar Daddy group he’d joined. He wanted to check the member list to see if any new greedy sluts had joined. There were several fresh prospects, including one calling herself Cherry Licious. Julian licked his lips and started to click on the profile picture, but he was interrupted by insistent pounding on his door. He closed his eyes and could practically see his mother’s ham-like fist beating on it.
“Julian Francis Pugh, what are you doing in there? Why are you home from work so early? Let me in!”
He grimaced and hurried to the door, leaning against it with his eyes squeezed shut. “Mr. McCarthy let me come home early because I have a stomach bug, Mumsy. I just need to sleep for a while. I’ll be fine.”
More pounding. “Open this door right now, young man! You could be seriously ill. I’m the nurse, not you. I’ll decide if you’re fine or not.”
“No, Mumsy. Please.” He hated the pleading note in his voice, almost as much as he hated her. “I already took my temperature. It’s only ninety-nine. Just a little stomach flu that’s going around.”
“Did you use the rectal thermometer? You know I don’t trust any other method!”
“Yes, Mumsy. Don’t I always do what you tell me? Just let me take a little nap, then I’ll come down and you can check it for yourself.” One of his hands gripped his coarse black hair and yanked hard enough to make his eyes water. God, he disgusted himself.
“Well, I don’t know…”
“Will you make me some soup when I come down later?”
“You mean some of Mumsy’s special chicken soup?” He could hear the grin in her tone and knew he had her. “You love it so much, don’t you, Julie?”
“Yes, Mumsy.” He pinched the inside of his thigh, relishing the pain.
“Okay, go take your nap and then come down to eat your soup. And you’ll be sleeping downstairs where I can check on you tonight, so bring your pillow and jammies with you. We’ll watch ‘Operation Repo’ together.”
“Okay, Mumsy. I will.” When he heard her heavy footsteps descending the stairs, he added, “Yeah, I’ll bring my pillow with me. And after your fat ass is asleep in your chair, I’ll smother you with it.”
But he knew he wouldn’t. He’d wimp
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