Arlene and JeffChapter 230
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Arlene And JeffChapter 136 free porn video
Dressed in jeans, polo shirt and sneakers, Jeff left the bedroom and his sleeping wife. He stopped by the living room to check in with his other wives, the other Alphas and their mates. Giving them a sketchy summary of what had happened, he promised to go into detail later. As he started to leave, Fred walked to the living room door with him before touching his shoulder. "We need to ask you something."
"Sure," Jeff replied. "Uh, again, I apologize for not eating breakfast with you folks."
"Nonsense," Fred responded. Then after a moment, "Uh, Jeff would you and Diana marry us, all of us to each other like you and your wives are?"
"Sure, I would be glad to, and I know Diana will feel the same way. So when do you want this to happen?"
"As soon as the women can get their dresses, I guess," Fred said, looking to Carla for verification.
"Maybe a week," she responded. "Diana has already given me the dress maker's number. We need to go over to Denver, choose our dresses and be measured. Di says the owner and her crew are very quick."
"They are, and as many wedding dresses as we have bought, I'll bet a call from Diana would make things flow smoothly when you go in to be fitted."
"I'll give Di a call later today," Carla said.
Jeff put his hand on Fred's shoulder. "I meant for us to have some time together. This thing last night was ... unexpected, to put it mildly. Now, I have to spend time with Art, Sandra and Bobby getting them convinced to accept the block and also bringing them up to date with what's going on around here. Well to some extent, anyway. I..."
"Don't sweat it, Jeff. We've known each other a long time. Hell, after they have been here awhile, bring them down to the farm. By what you've told us, none of the bad guys could ever figure out where Art is, anyway. We'll catch a pretty day and take them horseback riding. The horses don't mind the cold, and Carla and Jessica ride regardless of the weather, plus it's a hell of a lot warmer in the valley than it is up here."
"Thanks for understanding, Fred. I'll tell them you invited them. Uh, you and I need to get together and do some shooting. It's been too long."
"We'll do that, but we need to go check on the horses," Fred said, offering his hand to his friend.
Jeff shook Fred's hand and hugged the women. As Fred and his group left, Caitlin, dressed in her uniform, met Jeff in the hall.
"Sorry I ran you late for work," the Prime apologized.
Caitlin kissed him and hugged herself tightly to him. "I wasn't going anywhere until I knew what had happened, and you have to go into detail with us tonight. But the two of you are back safe. That's all that really matters. Oh, and Jeff, I still need to sit down with you and Sheriff Tate sometime in the next few days. I think I'm getting close to having enough information to get things started with the hospital, but I want to go over what I have with both of you. We've discussed some of it, but I think I have a clearer understanding of what's been happening."
"You're beginning to worry me with this. Be discreet, Wife. People will do anything for money. If these people are getting kickbacks as you think, you could very well be in danger if they suspect you might find out. Be careful."
"I will be," she assured her husband. "And, I've gotta run," she finished, standing on tiptoe to kiss him.
Jeff swatted her on the ass as she turned to leave. She laughed and hurried on.
A couple of minutes later, he stopped to talk briefly with the General, knowing that Whitworth had allowed him time to wind down with his team before learning the details of the rescue. Shortly, the Prime exited through the inside garage, and jogged toward the invisible ship.
As he entered the Ship, Diana got up to hug him, the nurses blushing as they sat smiling at him. "I was able to discuss Alphas with them, and other things, but I couldn't talk about the ship or Little One, or anything along those lines," his Queen whispered into his ear, apparently irritated at the block, "so we mainly talked about you," she finished with a grin, and in a normal voice.
Oh, shit. No wonder they're blushing. I hope she didn't lay it on too thick. Then aloud, "Uh, ladies, the Ship tells me that she is finished with your mate's healing."
Sandra looked at her sister then back at Jeff. "Diana said he would be completely healed when he comes out of that thing."
"He'll be one hundred percent. Maybe even a little better than that," Jeff chuckled.
"That's wonderful," they both said.
"Uh, then I guess he won't need nurses anymore," Bobby started, with Sandra nodding her agreement of the situation. "I guess we need to start looking for jobs in the area, huh?"
"Ladies, let's talk about jobs a little later; there's plenty of time. My Queen says she has discussed Alphas with you. Whether the FBI continues to keep you on as Art's nurses or not has little to do with your future. Since he is an Alpha and you two are his chosen mates, you may all live with us as long as you wish. To understate, we have plenty of room. The time for worrying is over. You're home. Now, let's get Art out of the chamber and feed him. He's going to be ravenous."
The chamber's shield disappeared and the mist gradually cleared. Art blinked and slowly sat up. An odd look passed over his face as he extended his left arm, moving it around, obviously testing the shoulder. Jeff stepped forward to offer him a hand up, but he needn't have bothered, for both nurses again beat him to it. Hanes stood with a look of incredulity on his face. "It doesn't hurt," he said, his voice quiet, then louder, "I don't hurt, anywhere."
He pulled his pajama shirt up a little and found only a faint pucker where the bullet had gone through him when it almost destroyed one of his kidneys.
"She left you that scar for bragging rights," Jeff chuckled as the nurses hugged Art, telling him how glad they were that he was healed.
Diana handed Art a bundle of folded clothes with a pair of shoes sitting on top. "These belong to Dave. You'll meet him shortly. I think you're close to his size. Hopefully, the clothing and shoes will fit well enough for the time being. The underclothes are all new. We'll get your sizes and have you a wardrobe delivered soon. Oh yeah, Dave said he had a pair of flip flops you could wear around the Retreat if the shoes don't fit."
Art looked at the shoes for a second. "They're a half size too big for me, but they'll fit fine for now. Thanks. Uh, the FBI has been holding my pay until I came out of undercover, so I'll have money shortly. I'll pay you back then. I appreciate all you people have done for me, Colonel, uh..."
"Matthews. But just call me Jeff. And you owe us nothing." Before Art could say anything more, Jeff pointed down the corridor. "First doorway on the left will do for you to change in. It's a bit brisk outside — a couple of degrees above zero — but one of the Escalades is right by the end of the ramp. As soon as you're dressed we'll go to the kitchen and feed you. Healing leaves you wanting to eat everything in sight. I know I certainly felt that way. We have some things to discuss with the three of you after you've eaten."
Tell Selina she has explored enough for now, Jeff mentally instructed the Ship.
A moment later, Selina, a smug look on her face, came walking briskly down the corridor.
When she reached the group, Jeff bent down so his mouth was close to her ear as he whispered, "Ask permission from me and from the Ship next time before you go exploring."
"Yes, my Prime," the little genius said, her eyes big and her face suddenly red.
For the first time, Jeff could feel the Ship chuckling as she sent mental images of Selina facing down the spider creature.
THE NURSES' HOME
Shortly after daylight, the agents made one more search of the battle area looking for evidence of the firefight. Another front had moved in, but the heavy-laden clouds produced only two inches of rain. There was little wind from these clouds to aggravate cleanup crews as they cut and moved felled trees from the streets and roads.
Whatley came in the back way. When he stepped out of his vehicle wearing full rain gear, there was muted grumbling from two of the soaked techs. Grigsby, just as wet himself, chuckled and strolled over to Whatley.
"I'm damn glad to see you alive," the older man said.
"And, I'm damn glad to be alive," Grigsby said as he wiped water out of his eyes. "How in the hell did you dig up those people — whoever they are?"
"I have a lot of things I need to tell you. After you get some rest, we'll get started on it."
"So what's in the sack?" Grigsby said as he nodded to the plastic grocery sack that Whatley had in his hand. It looked empty except for a small bulge in the very bottom.
"I stopped by our range and picked up five fired blank M4 casings."
"Oh, I like that," Grigsby said. "If there was a training exercise out here, there should have been a lot of blanks fired. With all that gunfire last night, anyone trying to investigate would expect to find a few fired casings that had been missed on cleanup. Finding blanks would also reinforce the rumor of a harmless exercise."
Whatley chuckled again. "Yep, whoever they were, they missed five blank casings when they cleaned up. I would suggest putting a couple of them in a fairly obvious place, then put the others where they're harder to find — but not impossible. Physical 'evidence' to go with our misinformation. I doubt if there will be many tracks that survive this rain, either vehicle or foot tracks, but if so, they will only tend to 'prove' our story."
Grigsby took the small sack and called over one of the agents. After giving the other agent instructions, the two supervisors turned back toward the house. Stepping onto the back porch out of the rain, they stood looking out as the water poured off the roof.
"They must have gotten a local cell tower working, because Courtney called again a few minutes ago. She's taking the day off from work. I'm supposed to meet her for breakfast when we're through here."
"Then what the fuck are you standing here for?"
Grigsby let out a weak chuckle. "We're just finishing up our last search sweep. All we have to do is lock the house up and leave. I need to get someone out here to fix one of the bedroom windows where a flying limb broke out the glass. We taped a trash bag across it to keep most of the rain out, but it needs to be fixed ASAP."
"I'll get someone to take care of it, and the downed trees. I can finish up here. Get!"
"You sure? You don't have to be out here."
"Positive. Now get going."
"Thanks. Thanks for everything. I don't know how you came up with those people ... those troopers, but we would have been dead without them. You know that. And thanks for looking up Courtney, and ... talking to her for me."
"So, she gave you her number?"
"Not the first time she called, but she gave it to me a few minutes ago. I'm to call her back after I go by my place and change clothes. We're to eat somewhere and talk. She said she had been seeing a therapist. Maybe we can work something out."
"I think she'll calm down after you're promoted..."
"You keep talking about a promotion. There are people ahead of me. There's no way..."
"You'll receive the notice today. By this afternoon, latest, your title will be SAC. It's a done deal, Matt. So let me be the first to congratulate you," Whatley said, putting out his hand.
As they shook, "Where?" Grigsby asked.
"Denver. But you will train with the current SAC before he turns the office over to you. Probably a month or more. I doubt if it will be longer than that. He's anxious to start his retirement, and I can't say that I blame him. So you can tell Courtney that you will be moving very shortly. I strongly suspect you're going to have a very excited wife later this morning."
A little later at his home, Matt Grigsby quickly showered and shaved. Dressed, he pulled out his personal cell phone and dialed Courtney's number.
"Hey, Matt," she answered.
"I'm ready," Grigsby stumbled out. "Where should..."
"You know where, Matt. Meet you there in thirty minutes."
Grigsby opened his mouth to say something, but she had hung up. She wants to meet at our place? I never expected that. I haven't been in there since she dumped me. Hey, wanting to eat there is bound to be significant — then again, maybe she chose that place because we both know it, and it's convenient. Should I get there first and be waiting at our table? Oh, shit. I'm as nervous as a teenager on his first date. And ... this isn't a date. She just wants to talk.
She said she was going to take the day off. It isn't late; she could make it to work on time. An hour at the restaurant and she still wouldn't be very late if she went on to work. Why did she take the day off? Is there something else going on? Whatley said she told him there wasn't another man. Is she going to tell me there is? Fuck! This is driving me crazy.
Standing, he looked around his living room. The room was neat; nothing was out of place. He always made his bed every morning before work. He ate out a lot, and when he did nuke a frozen meal and eat at home, he cleaned up afterward. He was naturally a neat person, so he didn't leave dirty clothes strewn about. He had vacuumed a couple of days ago, and hadn't been home much since then.
We shared housework — well mostly. I spent so many hours at work that she wound up with most of it, I guess. Still ... I picked up behind myself and didn't leave a mess. Most of my clothes went to the cleaners. I always made sure she enjoyed herself in bed. We made love a lot and she had tons of orgasms. I did everything a husband should do, except ... I was gone a lot. Well, maybe more than a lot. But that's not what she said made her leave. I know her mother loved her father — really loved him — and his death was more than her mom could stand. Courtney became fixated on my getting killed just like her dad had. Shit! Maybe the therapist can help her. Then again, I damn near died last night. I guess she has a point. Maybe my not telling her anything about my job made it worse, though. I guess I could have discussed some things with her.
Grigsby's agency phone rang. "Grigsby," he answered, recognizing the number as Whatley's.
Marisol
- 06.01.2021
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