Fook Read online

  Brian Drinkwater

  FOOK

  Twisted H2O Publishing

  FOOK

  All rights reserved

  Copyright 2014 by Brian Drinkwater

  Cover art and design by Brian Drinkwater

  Edited by Bonnie Otero

  In no way should any portion of this book be reproduced or transmitted by any means electronic or mechanical, such as but not limited to, photocopies, scans, photography or print without the written consent of the author or where permitted by law.

  For more information on this and other titles, please visit:

  http://www.AuthorBrianDrinkwater.com

  Twisted H2O Publishing

  Kindle Edition

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Preview – “Stranger than Fook”

  About the Author

  A VERY SPECIAL THANK YOU TO…

  …everyone in my life who’s shown me nothing but support while I continue to follow my dreams.

  …my devoted wife who has to suffer through my moments of distraction…even during important conversations, and for allowing me to bounce ideas off of her, even though it typically means spoiling the ending.

  …everyone who’s edited and proofread this book for me.

  …Darren Hayes, who’s 2007 song, “How to Build a Time Machine,” triggered the first idea for this story.

  AND

  …of course all of you who have purchased this book. Without you I’d simply be writing for my own sanity.

  DEDICATION

  This book is dedicated to my Grandfather. Though you may no longer be with us, you will never be forgotten.

  I love you Papa.

  "Within those veins, dark truths do dwell.

  ‘Neath a kindred shadow, blood will tell."

  William Grave, 1882

  ONE

  Only once before had a pair of eyes been so beautiful. It had been six years, three months and eleven days since he remembered first staring into a set of eyes as breathtaking and mesmerizing as the sleepy pair into which he currently stared. Now that original pair was probably tightly shut in the other bedroom, having given up on their husband’s timely return.

  As another flash of lightening illuminated the powder-blue nursery, followed by yet another newborn startling boom, Bill rechecked his math as his son began to once again express his fear of the unknown taking place beyond his bedroom windows.

  “Six years...three months...and...no...twelve days,” Bill quietly corrected his previous calculation, recalling the leap year that he’d previously overlooked.

  As if intrigued by the still new sound of his father’s voice, little Oliver Nesbit temporarily ceased his terrified rant to shoot his father a puzzled look.

  “You think Daddy’s strange?” Bill questioned his son with a grin.

  The perplexed look on Oliver’s face deepened.

  “Daddy’s a silly one isn’t he? Well, you just wait. You’ll see how silly Daddy can be, because Daddy has no clue what he’s doing. No, he doesn’t.”

  Welcomed silence filled the room as the two just stared at one another, silently agreeing that neither one of them had any clue about what the future held, but at the same time seeming to believe that, no matter what, everything was going to be okay.

  Another boom rattled the colorfully decorated room, replacing silence with the more familiar wails of the four day old in his arms.

  “Yeah, I know. I’ve never been a big fan of this either,” Bill continued to comfort his son. “I guess Florida’s the wrong place for us both.”

  *****

  “So where we going?”

  Bill jumped at the sound of his wife’s voice as he entered the dimly lit bedroom; the only source of illumination coming from the faint green glow of the indicator light on the baby monitor beside the bed.

  “Huh?” he question, his temporary fear apparently inhibiting his ability to hear the question.

  “Florida’s not the place for you two. So, where are we moving?”

  “I forgot about that thing,” Bill smiled as he glanced at the monitor.

  “What else did you hear?”

  “Besides a musical recital of the alphabet?…followed by a brief, yet informative synopsis of American history, capped off by our national anthem in what I can only describe as the worst Eddie Vedder impersonation I’ve ever heard...I didn’t hear anything.”

  “You heard all that?” Bill grinned sheepishly as he made his way across the room, removing his t-shirt.

  “You think he’ll stay down this time?”

  “If I can get even an hour of sleep before the next round, I can declare victory.”

  “I’ll take the next one.”

  “No, it’s my night. I’m gonna have to get used to this, so what good would it do to admit defeat on the very first night. Besides, I have no intention of showing such chivalry on your nights, so we don’t need to be setting a precedent now."

  “Fair enough,” Jennifer welcomed her husband to bed with a kiss as he slowly slid under the covers beside her. “Maybe I can do something else to make your night a bit more enjoyable,” she offered, her hand slowly tracing the faint outline of what used to be a solid six pack, now beginning to show signs of an eventual keg if diet and exercise continue to be omitted from their lives.

  She hadn’t married him for his looks but she couldn’t complain. Though it embarrassed him to admit it, Bill had been a pageant child from the age of three when his mother had entered him in a local county fair pageant in Ohio. Having easily taken the title of Little Mister Hamilton County, Bill and his mother had been invited to take part in the state pageant a month later in which he’d once again come out on top and claimed the title of Little Mister Ohio. The only thing that had ended his domination of cuteness and stopped him from claiming the national title, was what his mother frequently recalled as “a breathtakingly impeccable, red headed, blue eyed bundle of sugar that must have been created by none other than God himself.”

  “Jonathan Mitchell Walker was his name,” Mrs. Nesbit had often recalled whenever the conversation managed to wander down the path of her son’s breathtaking good looks, which had been quite often. “It wasn’t fair. That little thing was the most stunning creature I’ve ever laid eyes on,” she’d continue, seeming to forget that her son was often in the room during such conversations.

  Bill didn’t mind though. He’d seen photos. He’d seen the miniature tuxedo that he
’d worn when he’d claimed the state title, then once more when he’d suffered defeat at the hands of Little Mister Texas. He knew that his mother had been proud of him, even if he hadn’t brought home the national trophy. Or, maybe she’d been proud of herself for creating such a breathtaking, human specimen. Either way, the thought of his mother and her silly, yet touching admiration for beauty always brought a smile to his face. She’d have been thrilled to see her new grandson. Though adopted and of no blood relation to her, Mrs. Nesbit would have surely thought young Oliver the most beautiful creature to ever grace God’s earth.

  Sensing his distraction as he showed no response to her hand stealthily slipping inside the waistband of his pajama pants, Jennifer paused in her seductive massage. “Are you okay?”

  “What?” Bill reemerged from his memories to the realization of what was taking place just beneath the covers. “Yeah, yeah I’m fine.”

  “What were you thinking about?”

  “Nothing...I mean...it was just my mother.”

  Quickly, Jennifer let go of her toy, withdrawing her hand from beneath the covers to a less erotic position on the pillow beside her head.

  “No! Oh God no! That...that...well...that sounded horrible.”

  “No, this is good,” Jennifer reversed her previous decision as she returned her hand to her husband’s chest and once-again, began to caress her way south. “It’s always good to learn new things about one another…even when it’s disturbing. If thinking about your mother is what you need then who am I to judge,” she continued, trying as hard as she could to hold back the grin, fighting to break free at the corners of her lips.

  With each word Bill grew more at ease. Jennifer always did have a way of turning an awkward situation into a laughable moment.

  As her fingertips again broke the loose seal posed by her husband’s plaid pajama pants, she purred, “You know, I never told you this, but just as I’m about to finish I often think of my father and the sensual way he used to—”

  “—Okay…” Bill quickly interjected, putting an abrupt end to his wife’s sick sense of humor as he yanked her hand from his pants, his uncomfortable reaction finally drawing the laughter that had previously been dying to erupt from her quivering lips.

  Having accomplished her goal, Jennifer attempted to rebottle the humor as she slid even closer to her squeamish husband, who’s hand was now firmly planted over his eyes, a broad, tight lipped smile doing little to contain the uncomfortable chuckles pouring out of him. A sensual kiss quickly brought back the moment of passion and Bill’s hand slowly slid away, returning that original set of breathtaking eyes to his field of vision.

  Another loud boom seemed to throw itself at the roof as concern replaced love and drew both of their attention to the monitor. The speaker remained silent, the audible absence reaffirmed by the lack of flashing lights along the top of the tiny white receiver.

  Both remained silent for a moment, listening for the faint sounds of a shifting child and the telltale signs of an impending cry. The monitor echoed their silence.

  “That was a close one,” Jennifer whispered as she continued her lip’s migration to her husband’s neck.

  “I know. You almost had to get up.”

  “Me? What happened to getting used to this and not wanting to set a precedence?”

  “You and I both know that women are the more nurturing of the sexes. I think it would be best if you handled the nightly duties from now on. You know, so I can get more rest.”

  “Oh, you think so, huh? Well, I was trying to see to it that neither of us got any slee—”

  “What was that?” Bill again hit pause on the adult fun.

  “What?” Listening for a moment. “I don’t hear anything.”

  Bill continued to listen intently, sure that he’d heard something. Again the monitor confirmed silence in Oliver’s room.

  “Listen, I really want you right now, so you better quit delaying this and take care of business or I might just have to do it myself.”

  She knew how hollow that threat sounded. One of Bill’s favorite things was to watch as she explored her femininity, usually bringing herself right to the brink of climax before he’d jump in and claim responsibility for the eruption of pleasure exploding within.

  Bill showed little interest in the erotic threat, however; a look of concern and intense concentration dominated his serious face as he continued to listen to the faint patter of raindrops striking the skylight overhead. “Are you sure we’re doing the right thing?” he suddenly broke his long silence with a recently common question that confirmed she was on her own.

  “I’ve told you a hundred times, yes. Besides, it’s a little late now,” Jennifer responded, trying to be as comforting as she could, knowing how worried Bill had been about his new role as a father, but at the same time a bit annoyed at the thought of having the same conversation yet again.

  She loved children, she always had. The youngest in a family of eight kids, Jennifer thrived on family and the sounds of chaos and family interaction. Every job she’d had since the age of fifteen had involved some form of child care; from babysitting for the Johnsons back home in Jacksonville; to working in a daycare all through high school; right up to college where she obtained her masters in education at Florida State. There was no doubt in her mind that she was ready to be a mother. Bill on the other hand hadn’t been so sure.

  It wasn’t that he didn’t like children, but growing up an only child in a house where his father was often out of town on business and his mother a bit on the over protective side, he’d never really had what most would consider a typical childhood. He’d had very few friends since his mother had always thought the neighborhood youth far too corrupting for her little angel. The only interaction he’d ever really gotten as a child had come from relatives and family friends at least thirty years his senior; so it was understandable that he’d never really seen himself as a father, a fact which he’d been very forthcoming about as soon as they’d both realized the seriousness of their relationship. But, he loved his wife and knowing how much being a mother meant to her, the two had decided to try for a family almost as soon as they’d been married. Unfortunately, the Lord had formulated a different plan for them and after nearly a year of unsuccessful attempts, they’d sought out the help of Doctor Huller who’d informed them that children, at least in the traditional sense, would never be an option. For some reason, which they still struggled to understand, Jennifer’s ovaries were incapable of producing eggs and, therefore; would never be able to produce the genetic material needed to generate life.

  Understandably, they’d been devastated by the news; Jennifer from of the loss of her only real dream in life and Bill from having to watch the woman he loved suffer such devastating news. For the next year, either out of denial or just a stubborn refusal to accept what they both knew deep down to be the truth, they’d continued to try and a year later, they’d remained childless. That year of refusing to accept reality, however; hadn’t been a complete loss. It had allowed them to grow closer to one another. It had acted as a form of therapy and somehow had made the thought of not having children, though not ideal, somehow okay. It was at that point that they’d began to consider adoption and eighteen months and one unwanted teen pregnancy later, Oliver had entered their lives.

  “You’re going to be a wonderful father,” Jennifer continued to reassure her worried husband.

  “But how do you know? I hardly knew my dad. For all intents and purposes I didn’t have a father at all. What makes you think that I can take care of a child? How do you know that I won’t leave Oliver in the backseat of the car instead on dropping him off at daycare on my way to work? How do you know that I won’t back over him with the lawn mower one day?”

  “Really?” Jennifer responded, caught a bit off guard by his gruesome examples of bad parenting.

  “What if I—”

  “—Listen, you’re going to be a wonderful father. You know how I know? Becaus
e you’re a wonderful, loving husband who’s taken care of me every second of our relationship and Oliver is blessed to have someone like you to call his dad.”

  He was still terrified, but somehow hearing those words of loving encouragement was exactly what he needed. At that moment, convinced by Jennifer’s reassurance, Bill really did believe that everything was going to be alright.

  “Now, forget about being a father for a moment and think more about being my husband,” Jennifer renewed her attempts to bring pleasure to what had become a very heavy moment by gracefully sliding her right leg across Bill’s lower torso and coming to rest face to face in a straddled position on top of her husband’s excited partner.

  Forgetting all worries, at least for the moment, Bill reached up, grabbing the back of Jennifer’s head, and pulled her in for a passionate kiss. Like gasoline on an open flame, the touch of Bill’s lips caused an explosion in her loins as Jennifer began undulating against her desired playmate, undeterred by the pair of lace panties and thick pajama pants currently obstructing maximum pleasure. It was a barrier that stood little chance of keeping them apart and like second nature, within seconds Jennifer managed to free her partner from his cotton prison and slip him past the lacy guard standing watch outside the palace walls.

  “Boom!” another thunderous crash exploded from the night sky.

  “What was that?” Bill once again allowed himself to be removed from the moment of ecstasy.

  “It’s just thunder,” Jennifer continued her undulating dance as she attempted to keep her husband’s attention focused on the task at hand.

  “No, I know I heard something this time,” he insisted, removing Jennifer from his lap and sliding off the bed to his feet.