Jermaine was a short greasy man. The kind who was only slightly taller than he was wide and he'd never learned to buy clothing that disguised that fact. He insisted on t-shirts with logos warped across his cut and jeans that seemed unreal with their huge waist bands and narrow cuffs at the far end. His short hair was perpetually slicked back into a nasty duck tail. There was only one part of him that and sane woman could find even remotely sexy.
His eyes. Jermaine's eyes betrayed his intelligence. His eyes were dark brown to the point that his pupils were nearly invisible. He just seemed to have oil black eyes that bored straight through a person. There were very few people who could hold his gaze for long. There was a power in Jermaine's gaze that defied description but was very real.
It was those powerful eyes that Bruce found himself staring at when he opened the door to his apartment. Bruce wasn't the kind of man who was used to being looked down at but the last year and a half had been rough. He'd been dishonorably discharged from the Navy after eighteen years of service. It effectively black listed him from life. Bruce could barely get a job at McDonalds much less hold it down long enough to make payments. Six months after his discharge they had burned through his savings and had to sell their house. The money from the sale carried them through most of another year along with the occasional job that never seem more than a week and then that started to run dry. Now they were in the rundown shit apartment complex Shady Oaks. Bruce was a month and a half behind on his payments and again between jobs. "Look man if I had the money." This wasn't the first time he'd tried this shtick on the manager. In fact it was almost like a monthly dance between the two men. There was something though in Jermaine's gaze that made it apparent that this was the absolute last time they would try out that old two step. "Please don't throw us out."
"Can I come in?" Jermaine was always bold but there was something in his voice that just made Bruce shiver. He knew better than to bite the hand that fed him though. He stepped out of the way making a weak motion for the land lord to walk in. What the fuck does he want that he can't handle from out there? Is he trying to see how much damage I've done before he rents this piece of shit out? Bruce pondered as Jermaine walked past him.
Jermaine paused for a moment casually taking in his surrounding before he sat down on what served as a combination work station, wet bar, and kitchen table. "Are Rena and Fiona home?" Bruce nodded slightly walking up to his landlord. "Okay I know how hard things are for you and I'm going to make you and offer just once. If you want to even hear it you call them into the room."
In hindsight Bruce knew right then what Jermaine was going to do. What else could he have wanted to negotiate for? It wasn't like there was a reason to believe that Bruce was ever going got come into big money. There aren't that many things that men are willing to trade for goods and if Jermaine had wanted someone killed he wouldn't have asked for Bruce's wife and daughter to enter the room. "Honey! Fiona I need you to come in here real quick for a family discussion."
The first to arrive was his daughter. She was half dressed and half awake when she stumbled into the living room. She was wearing blue and white striped dress shirt that had belong to her father before it had become too faded to wear in public. Now it doubled as a nightie for his daughter. It was loose enough around her torso that it only gave a slight hint to her swell of her breasts. Jermaine had seen in her regular clothing before though and knew that she had an okay set. Nothing that made her really stand out but not bee stings either. The oversized shirt, though it ended mid thigh with the way it was slit along the sides the hem of her white panties were clearly visible. "What is it Daddy?" She grumbled rubbing the sleep out of her eyes and still not noticing their guest.
"Go get dressed we ha-"
"Stay as you are." The sound of Jermaine's voice pulled a surprised squeal from Fiona. Suddenly aware of how much skin she was showing her knees pulled together and her hands moved to the bottom of the shirt desperately trying to stretch the fabric an extra few inches. Her pale skin lit with a red blush that stretched from her forehead to her toe nails. She didn't stay where she was because he'd told her to. She stayed because she didn't have and choice. Fiona's slender legs were locked in place. "You look good Fiona." Jermaine leered. Flustered Fiona reached up and started tangling one of her hands through her shoulder length red hair.
"What do you want?" Bruce asked restraining a growl. Like any man he recognized the predatory glare in Jermaine's eyes. He knew they were sizing his precious nineteen year old daughter as if she was a piece of meat. Would you like fries with that shake? Juicy thighs and extra firm breast! Grade A meat no preservatives and natural raised! He had to restrain the urge to make the little man eat his teeth instead of the succulent meal dressed with all the trimmings before him.
Jermaine let his eyes remain on the young redhead for a moment longer but a sound from the master bedroom jerked his attention away from the daughter. Rena was living proof that not only wine improved with age. There were definitely women who followed the same trend. She was wearing her pajamas when she sauntered into the living room. She had the confidence that only a forty year old woman with a twenty year old body was capable of. She looked almost identical to her daughter body wise accept she had put on probably twenty pounds in all the right places. Motherhood had taken her average rack and pushed it to the extreme. She'd thought about getting reductions plenty of times but never had the money. She knew she had an ass; she purposely bought her pants, even her pajamas so they clung to her rump as she walked. "What is it honey?" She asked. When her eyes tracked far enough across the room to notice the landlord she just smiled.
Without her permission or even knowledge her body started to wake up. She didn't mean to cock one leg slightly further accentuating the length and tone of her legs nor did she mean to turn her body slightly to give him a better look at her profile. Her nipples hardened, not that they could be seen pushing through the thick flannel fabric. The two cues she was aware of she managed to stave off. Her hand had started on its own accord to move up and fix her blonde hair but she instead brushed some imaginary lint from her shoulder. At the same time she managed to keep herself from either whetting her lips with her tongue or biting down on her lip. Rena wasn't really sure which she'd been intending but she managed to stop either from happening. "What's going on honey?" She wasn't naïve though. She knew what was about to happen as well. There is a short list of things that a man is looking for when he wakes a woman at ten in the evening.
