Chapter 3

The Next Day

“Yes Mother, that’s right, I have um… I have a girlfriend now.” Michael giggled sitting on the side of his bed.
It has taken him the greater part of the morning to work up the nerve to call his parents about me.
“Her name is Brynn. Mother she’s amazing. Yeah, that’s right, she’s the girl working with me on my new song.” Michael grinned at me. I leaned my head on his shoulder and returned the grin.
“H-h-how old is she?” Michael glanced at me nervously.
I motioned for him to go ahead and tell her the truth. Lying would only complicate things.
“Mother…Brynn is nineteen.” Michael said quickly and winced.
I heard Mrs. Jackson shout something through the phone at Michael.
“Mother---Mother please! Mother! I know that’s very young, Yes Mother, I know I just got out of trouble! I understand that! She’s nice she really is.” Michael pleaded.
“Do you want me to talk to her?” I asked, wanting to stop this argument.
Michael shook his head violently.
“Mother. Tito and Jermaine and Randy all have wives and girlfriends younger than them. Why can’t I?” Michael whined and bit his bottom lip.
Michael fell silent and I watched him closely. I knew his mother must have been issuing one hell of a tongue lashing.
After a while, Michael said,
“That’s right Mother. I am my own man. But I swear to you, you’ll like her!” Michael nodded. “Mmmhmm…Mmmhmm…Mmmhmm, alright. I love you too. Good bye.” Michael lowered the receiver and put it back on the hook.
“Well, is she okay with us?” I wondered rubbing Michael’s shoulders.
“I’m not sure. She’s coming in for lunch to meet you.” Michael gave me a forced smile; I knew he was shaken up.
Even though the thought of meeting Michael Jackson’s mother was making me nearly tremble with trepidation, I put on a brave face for Michael.
“I’m sure she’ll love me. I’ll be super nice.” I assured him.
“Brynn, you remember a while back when I asked you to not wear make-up?” Michael asked and flopped onto his back in bed.
“Yeah.” I stared back at him.
“Will you put on some. Maybe you can at least look older to Mother.” Michael cracked a small smile.
I laughed loudly. “I don’t mind. I just want to make this go as smoothly as possible.”
“I hope it does,” Michael murmured.

* * *

That Afternoon

“So Michael, how do I look?” I asked walking to the eating area that Michael had had prepared outside by the Ferris Wheel.
Michael, dressed in a yellow button down shirt and blue jeans, twirled the large umbrella he was holding. (Michael had a skin condition, Vitiligo, that destroyed the pigmentation in his skin and made his skin sensitive to the sun.)
“Wow.” Michael giggled.
I wore a wine colored blouse that I had paired with grey and wine pinstriped trousers and matching high heels.
I wore my hair long and loose--the first time Michael had seen it like that.
And as he had requested, make-up. It had been so long since I had put it on it had taken me three tries before I got the look right.
“Brynn, you look beautiful--as usual.” Michael hugged me. “I think Mother is going to be happy with you.”
“Speaking of mothers, there’s yours.” I grinned and motioned to Mrs. Jackson who was coming through the open backdoors of Michael’s mansion.
“Mother hello!” Michael called and jogged over to her.
Michael’s mother, who was in her seventies, was just as pretty as she had appeared on television when she was with Michael during his trial. She was a somewhat petite woman with short, wavy brown hair. (I’m pretty sure it was dyed. Ha ha.)
“Mother,” Michael beamed as they approached me, “This is Brynn McAllister. Brynn, this is my mother.”
Giving her my grandest smile, I reached out and gave her the warmest hug I could muster.
“Hello Mrs. Jackson, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” I said happily.
“Hello Brynn, it’s nice meeting you too.” She smiled.
After we were seated and Michael had served everyone--it was a simple meal of green salad and broiled beef-- we chatted lightly.
I didn’t have to wait long for Mrs. Jackson to get on my case.
“Brynn, dear, you are nineteen right?” She looked up at me.
“Yes, ma’am.” I replied politely.
“Don’t you think that you’re a bit too young for my son? He is in his forties.” Mrs. Jackson asked and Michael whimpered.
“No ma’am I don’t believe I’m too young. I am an adult and he is too. I don’t mind that he is a little longer in the tooth than I am.
I like that he is older. He’s wiser.” I smiled and grabbed Michael’s free hand. “And I think he’s a beautiful person.”
Mrs. Jackson gave me a bit of a complacent look and quietly considered my answer.
“Do you want some more salad Mother?” Michael offered and cast me a happy expression.
“No thank you son.” Mrs. Jackson looked back at me. “Where are you from Brynn?”
“I’m from Texas ma’am.” I responded popping a cherry tomato in my mouth.
“That’s a long way from here. Do your parents approve of your being out here?”
I stared at her, and felt breathless. “My parents?” I repeated.
“Yes dear, your parents.” Mrs. Jackson eyed me.
I felt a chill though the weather had to be over a hundred in the shade.
I hadn’t thought about my parents much since I had arrived in California.
My mind drifted back to the night I left Texas, for good. My parents had never really supported my dream of becoming a performer and we had been on the out and out since I had left college after one semester to try to establish my career. All three of us had gotten into a large argument then telling me that I was ruining my future and me saying that it was my life. The usual argument most kids have with their parents in some point in their lifetimes. That very night, I had packed and left…
“Brynn! Brynn!” Michael’s voice broke my chain of thought.
He was squeezing my hand tightly.
“Oh…” I sighed and started to fan myself. “I’m sorry the heat was getting to me.” I focused on Michael’s mother.
“I’ve been working so hard lately, I haven’t had time to be in touch with them. But you know how it is--since you have an entire family in the biz.” I smiled at her, trying to mask my own pain.
Mrs. Jackson nodded in agreement.
She then changed the subject began asking about Michael’s new song and the rest of the afternoon went by without incident. And the best thing was, I had made a great first impression on Mrs. Jackson!

The Next Afternoon
* * *
That Night
nine inches if not more--into me.
It seemed almost impossible that he’d fit and I was scared that he would rip me to bits and send me to the hospital.
I could feel myself stretching to the limit to accommodate him.
I moaned loudly, more out of arousal than pain, and shut my eyes once more.
Gripping my shoulders, Michael began bouncing himself against me.
His thrusts were gentle and light at first and as he got more into it, so did his backbone.
Hardly any time passed before Michael had me raking my nails across his tender back.
It was then I noticed that Michael was eerily quiet.
It took a lot of effort, but I managed to open my eyes.
Michael’s face was serene. His eyes were closed and he was sucking on his bottom lip.
He hadn’t even broken a sweat!
It dawned on me that Michael must have had the stamina of a triple crown racehorse. He’d been performing all his life and I knew that his drive must have been astronomical!
I slid my hand up his back into his hair.
All hell broke loose.
“Ahh! Ahh! Ahh! God!!!” Michael’s eyes flew open. “That’s my spot! Oh!”
He gasped.
Michael began pumping his hips against me even harder--I didn’t think it was possible--and finally, sweat began to spring up on his body, in a thin sparkly sheen.
I continued to rub on his head, my fingers tangling in his hair and massaging his scalp.
My breasts were rubbing against his chest so hard I was afraid that sparks would fly.
“Michael please! Please! Oh! Michael!” I screamed and I felt tears springing from my eyes.
My screams seemed to turn Michael on; even more and sweat began poring from his body and wetting my body,
Our damp bodies flapped and skidded against each other.
“Oh…ahhh! Brynn! Damn! Whoa!!!” Michael grunted and continued to tear me up.
I was wholly sobbing from the beating I was getting, but I was loving it.
My entire body trembled as I felt myself beginning to reach my peak.
At the same time, Michael began to also tremble erratically
His tossed his head back and in an almost other worldly voice, he questioned,
“Do you love me?”
“Yes” I groaned, my body twitching.
“You love me?
“YES!”
“Say my name!” Michael dropped his head back down.
“MICHAEL….AAAAHHHHHHH!!!” I shrieked as I felt my body succumbing to the passion.
“OH GOD!” Michael screamed.
At the same time we both climaxed hotly and wetly.
Michael collapsed on me.
We both lay there panting, trying to catch our wind for a long while.
I stroked his perspiration soaked hair.
“That…was…amazing.” I mumbled, my body still on fire.
Michael raised his head, found my mouth and kissed me solidly.
I felt more connected to Michael than I had ever felt since I had met him.
“Did I hurt you?” His voice was cautious as he leaned up, placing his hand in the middle of my chest.
“No…I loved it.” I smiled at him.
Michael began to ease himself out of me. I gasped as the bulbous tip exited me.
“I’m glad that you’re happy.” Michael grinned. “I love you.”
“I love you too.” I nodded.
He wrapped one arm around me and pecked my damp forehead.
With his free hand, he covered our nude bodies with the blanket on his bed.
We drifted off to sleep in each others arms.
It should have been something written in a romance novel.
But it wasn’t.
It was real.
Michael Jackson loved me.

* * *

“…yeah, that’s right.”
I was awakened by the sound of Michael’s voice giggling.
Rolling over in bed, I opened my eyes.
It was morning, and shafts of sunlight were shining in through the open windows in Michael’s room, filling the room with a soft, yellow glow.
Michael was sitting with his back to me, chatting on the telephone, still nude.
As my eyes adjusted to the morning light, I saw that I had wreaked havoc on his back the night before.
About fifteen long scratches were scabbing over and leaving dark marks on his fair skin. I couldn’t believe I had done that much damage to him.
As Michael continued to talk, I reached out and let my fingertips brush the scabs.
“Oh!” Michael gasped sharply.
He turned and looked back at me.
He was even more beautiful with his long hair disheveled.
He gave me a sweet grin, then said into the receiver,
“Alright, I’ll see you in a while then, bye.”
He hung up the phone.
“Who was that? Rusty?” I asked, continuing to finger his back.
“No, that was Quincy.” Michael giggled. “He’s coming over in a little while to listen to the track and meet you.”
Michael reached and stroked my cheek.
“How are you this morning? Did I hurt you last night?”
I looked up at him.
Every muscle in my body was tied in knots and my nether regions were so raw I could barely move.
“I’m okay. Michael, I didn’t know you had it in you.” I whispered as events of the previous night flooded my mind. “You’re usually so shy.”
Michael ducked his head and rubbed his nose gently.
“Well, maybe I needed a special person to bring the beast in me out.” Michael leaned and pecked my mouth.
I laughed. “I hope I’m that special person.”
“That you are.” Michael smiled.
Michael got up and made his way across the room towards his bathroom.
His little bottom bounced with every step.
“Michael…?” I called. I had to know something important.
“Yes?” He looked at me.
“Did you mean what you said last night?” I wondered softly.
Michael simply looked at me.
“Yes.” He bit his bottom lip. “ I love you.”
With that he disappeared into his bathroom.
I fell back on the pillows hot with happiness.

I was sitting in front of the large dresser in my room, brushing my hair and thinking.
Even though I had enjoyed making an ass out Rusty again, I was a bit weary of him. He seemed to be just slimy enough to go around and spread the word that Michael was “involved” with a girl less than half his age.
And I knew that I would probably kill him if he was indeed behind the scenes if Michael and I ever got outed.
And I knew that I’d probably kill myself if I were the reason that Michael failed to make a comeback.
It was a thought that had haunted me ever since I had pretended to be Michael to extort that precocious tidbit of information from Rusty.
I had a deep appreciation for Michael and all that he had done for me and it went beyond him allowing me to sing with him on a record and being my beneficiary. I appreciated him as a person from the moment I met him and quickly grew to call him friend and then obviously, more than a friend--boyfriend. My boyfriend. No, my man.
But the buck didn’t just stop at being with Michael. Eventually I’d have to meet his children and I knew that Michael held his children to be dearer than life itself.
That let loose a new set of worries and I began to brush my hair with harder swipes. What if the children didn’t like me? What if I was too young for them to respect me? It was almost too much for me to think about. I didn’t know what to do. And I didn’t really want to express my feelings to Michael because I didn’t want to worry him with anything unnecessary. Maybe that was why Lisa Marie and Debbie had flown the coop; there was too much pressure. But I knew one thing for certain. I wasn’t going to up and leave Michael. I knew from what I’d heard and read and had even heard Michael say in passing, he’d been hurt too many times in his life. And I understood that because even though my life had been a million miles away from his, I had been hurt too. I still wasn’t quite strong enough to tell him, and I wasn’t sure if he was strong enough to hear it either…
Tap…tap…tap…
My train of thought was derailed by meek knocking on my door.
“Who is it?” I called and continued to brush (a little calmer though).
“Me.” The door cracked and Michael stuck his head into the room.
“May I come in?” He bit his bottom lip shyly.
“Of course.” I grinned at him, once again masking the worry I felt.
Michael quietly entered the room and made his way over behind me.
I stared up at him through the mirror. He looked heavenly in black silk pajamas. They made his pale skin appear even whiter. His hair, still damp from a shower, fell in deep waves around his face.
“Brynn…I wanted to apologize for the trouble Rusty caused earlier today.” Michael placed his long hands on my shoulders.
“It’s alright. I don’t let the Rust Bucket get to me.” I giggled and set my brush on the dresser. It had been tremendous fun for me to shove Rusty into the pool.
“Yeah I know, but I wish he’d stop pinning an eminent downfall on me and equating it to being associated with you. And it hurts my feelings a lot because I am very happy with you. You bring me joy.”
Michael bent and kissed the top of my head.
“You look very pretty tonight.” He whispered.
I wore an oversized white button-down night shirt.
I looked away from him, feeling my face starting to heat up.
For some reason, his compliments always made me a bit shy.
“Thank you. You look nice too.” I looked down at my hands.
“Come with me. I want to show you something.” Michael smiled grabbing my arms and helping me to my feet.
“What do you want to show me?” I questioned as I followed him out of the room and down the hall.
“It’s a surprise, but I know you’ll love it.” Michael led me to his room.
Everyday with Michael was a surprise, but for him to actually tell me that he had something arranged, made my already trembling heart beat harder.
“Oh, what is it, tell me!” I begged outside his closed doors.
“Go ahead on in and look around.” Michael pushed the doors open.
I jogged in and gave a whimper of confusion.
There was nothing amiss at all in the room.
I had been dreaming of lit candles and rose petals all over the place and to see nothing out of the ordinary, it left me feeling a bit deflated.
“I don’t see anything different.” I glanced back at Michael who was still hovering in the doorway.
“Look on the bed.” He giggled and I noticed that once again his voice had slipped into a shy falsetto.
I made my way over and saw that, upon closer inspection, there was a medium sized black box on the bed. It appeared to be made of a heavy, high grade cardboard.
“Is this for me?” I smiled at the thought of a present. Other than the major shopping spree that Michael had taken me on, he hadn’t really bought anything. Not to say he’s a cheapskate, because Michael is far from it, but he had been busy recording.
“Actually it’s for both of us to enjoy.” Michael moseyed over to the bed and handed the box to me.
Both of us? I wondered what it could be. I quickly opened the box.
There, arranged in five neat little rows , were fifty plump, white and dark chocolate covered strawberries. The chocolate had been arranged on the berries so that on alternating dark and white were Michael’s and my initials. They looked almost too pretty to eat.
“Oh, Michael, this is really sweet.” I smiled looking down at the treats.
“I knew you’d like it. I had those made at a special chocolate Shoppe--that’s with an ‘e’ on the end--with the finest chocolate in the country. Only the best for you.” Michael bragged and picked up a strawberry marked with an “M” and examined it.
I won’t lie, I was terribly flattered that Michael had gone to so much trouble to have something so fine made when most people would rum to the drugstore and buy a Whitman’s Sampler for their other half and leave it at that. But I already knew that Michael wasn’t “most people” and that everything he did had to be on a grandiose level.
“Here, try it and tell me what you think.” Michael held the strawberry out to me.
I knew he was expecting me to take it from his hand, but I had other tricks up my sleeve.
Grabbing his wrist, I directed the berry to my mouth and took a small, gentle bite.
I was almost floored by the flavor sensation going on in my mouth. This couldn’t have been your run of the mill chocolate. It was smoother, creamier, yummier--for lack of a better term. And the strawberry was perfectly ripe and sweet.
“It’s so good!” I mumbled taking the berry from Michael and directing it at his mouth.
Michael took a larger bite--leaving only the stem of the berry in my hand--and his lips brushed my fingertips.
“Oh, it is good! Delicious. Do you like it?” He wondered picking up and enjoying another strawberry.
“Loves it.” I wrapped my arms around his waist.
“Great.” Michael whispered and I saw that his ears were scarlet, a clear sign that he was getting aroused.
“So…what do we do now?” I asked lightly, a mixture of nervousness and my own arousal coursing through my veins.
“Oh, I dunno.” Michael bent and his lips crushed mine.
Once again I felt a weakness and held onto him for support.
As he continued to kiss me, I felt Michael running his hands all over my back and bottom.
I tossed the candy box on the side table as Michael backed me into his bed.
I fell on my back and gazed up at Michael.
“You’re so lovely, do you know that?” Michael murmured lightly and I saw that he was loosening the buttons on his pajama top.
My heart thumped so loudly that I was sure he was able to hear it.
A sudden thought struck me.
I was a virgin.
I had never experienced a man. And to be honest, I had never actually kissed anyone before him.
I watched as Michael finished undoing the buttons on his shirt. He let the shirt hang open and for the first time I got a peek of his chest.
It was a creamy milky white.
Michael moved closer to me and pulled the right side of the shirt halfway off his shoulder.
A light, rosy, pink nipple was exposed.
I stared at it and realized that Michael really meant business.
Michael extended his hand and gently brushed my cheek with his fingertips.
“You’re so sweet Brynn. Woo.” Michael giggled.
He pulled me against him.
His cologne trickled into my nose and for a spell, I forgot all my worries.
I kissed his sweet neck and sucked along his jaw line.
“Ooohhh! Brynn! That tickles!” Michael giggled again.
The sound made me almost faint.
I became aware that Michael was scooting me to the center of his bed.
And he was inching himself in next to me.
“Michael…” I gasped.
“What is it?” Michael pecked my mouth.
“I have to tell you…” I paused and for some reason, I felt a little embarrassed.
Michael stared at me lovingly, his dark eyes warmer than I had ever seen them.
“I…I…I’ve never done this before.” I looked away from him.
Michael was a quiet for a moment.
“Brynn, you’re a virgin?” He asked sweetly.
“Yes…is that bad?” I continued to avert my eyes from his.
“No, of course not. You’re a young girl. It’s okay. I like it.” Michael ran a hand through my hair.
I got shivers. “You like it?” I questioned.
Michael bent his head down and smiled.
“Yes. I think it’s sweet. Your first time. I get to be it. It’s nice. And it’s making me feel naughty.”
I stared at him. Michael was actually talking dirty! Michael was usually a mild mannered man and he was actually letting his hair down and getting a little kinky.
It was definitely making me HOT.
Feeling a bit more comfortable, I placed my hand in the middle of Michael’s smooth chest and rubbed gently.
“Oh.” Michael sighed.
I was regaining my courage and in an instant, I found myself tweaking his little nipple to full ripeness. Within seconds, his nipple was standing up hard.
I couldn’t help myself. I leaned in and kissed it. It bounced against my lips and it tasted a little salty.
“Oh my!” Michael got on his knees in bed, straddling my legs.
I saw that his legs were wide open and his groin was hanging over my knees.
“Michael…” I purred seductively.
He looked at me eagerly.
Reaching around I cupped Michael’s booty in both hands.
(And trust me, I needed a couple of more hands to be able to hold him all.)
“Oh gosh!” Michael covered his face with both of his hands.
Grasping his little bottom with all my might, I pressed his buttocks, sure I was leaving finger marks in his skin. I didn't care, just touching him was driving me almost mad.
“Ow! Hey!” Michael dropped his hands and stared at me.
For a moment, I thought I had hurt him. That flew out the window when Michael began to pull my nightshirt up and over my head.
When he got it off, he tossed it carelessly over his shoulder.
It landed on a small statue of Mickey Mouse.
I laid there, the only thing keeping me from complete and utter nudity was a small pair of blue underwear.
My chest was completely exposed to Michael.
“Oh Brynn…” Michael whispered. “You…oh.”
Michael reached out with both hands, the same hands that were covering his face, and grabbed onto my breasts.
His touch was absolutely electric.
Goose pimples popped up on every surface of my body.
“Damn.” I gasped as he began to caress them.
“You like that?” Michael’s voice had dropped at least three octaves, making me tremble with a new found horniness.
Oh I had been hot for Michael before, but just to hear him talking so deeply, so earthly, made me want to do him until I bled.
I wrapped my arms around his neck and placed my mouth near his ear.
“Michael” I begged, “…please fuck me.”
His warm body bounced with a laugh.
“Brynn, I’m not going to f-u-c-k you.” He said quietly.
It was so cute to me that he was spelling, rather than saying the word.
My entire body went limp, until he added,
“Michael Jackson doesn’t f-u-c-k…Michael Jackson makes love.”
The dirty talk was driving me up the freaking wall!
Michael ran his long hands down my sides and instantly my underwear was off in them.
He tossed them away too.
Somehow, Michael wiggled his way out of his pajama top, bottoms and black plaid briefs.
Michael Jackson was nude.
Michael Jackson was naked.
My eyes traveled over his body, greedily and happily taking in all it’s splendor.
Pale, precious skin met my every glance from his small, chest, over his tummy which was showing the gentle indentations of the beginnings of a six pack of abs and…
My breath caught in my throat.
I stared at Michael’s bare crotch.
Not a strand of hair marred it’s white surface.
His entire nether regions were like that of a marble statue.
He was gorgeous and his body was more chiseled than I had ever imagined.
The Statue of David had nothing on him!
“Brynn, I know this is your first time, and I’m going to make sue that you remember it.” Michael’s voice was hot in my face as leaned close to me.
He didn’t have to say it, the image of his glorious body was burned into my memory forever.
Michael leaned back and pushed my legs apart.
“Mike!” I exclaimed.
“I know.” Michael chortled and I felt his fingers slipping over my body and into places he hadn't seen on me before.
“Oh!” I whined and shut my eyes.
“You’re so sweet…” He chuckled and pecked at my face and chest.
“Please…” I begged in a high whine.
Michael had me so wrapped up that at the moment he could have told me anything and I would have done it.
Ski down Mount Everest on my face? Sure.
Shoot myself in the foot? What caliber of bullet do you want me to use?
Michael crawled up on top of me and for a second everything was calm.
Then I felt Michael slowly sliding himself--what must have been almost

“Would you like some more lemonade?” Michael offered quietly.
We were lounging under umbrellas in deck chairs next to Michael’s large, kidney shaped pool. Michael wore his usual long sleeved shirt and trousers while I wore a pink one-piece swimsuit. (I usually wore bikinis but when Michael went on his shopping rampage, all he got were one pieces.)
“No thank you. I have plenty.” I giggled shaking my half full glass at him.
It was such a great day. Michael had decided that we could take a break from recording and we had been spending most of the day together talking and resting.
“So what do you want to do now? We can do whatever you want.” Michael waved his arm indicating the pool and rides.
I smiled at him, “You know there is one thing I’d like for you to do with me.” I said slyly.
Michael stared me, a worried look to his face. I knew that he was thinking that I was referring to having intimate relations. Trust me, the idea hadn’t been far from my mind since I had met him, but it wasn’t what I had intended at that moment.
“I want you…” I paused dramatically and I could actually hear Michael draw in a deep and heavy breath. “To show me some of your dance moves.”
“W-what?” Michael shook his head.
“Show me some moves. I mean I’ve been here like two months and I have yet to learn how to do the moonwalk. Come on.” I jumped up and started to pull Michael to his feet.
“No…I’m shy. Please!” Michael tried to pull free of my grasp.
“No way man!” With a hard jerk, I got Michael to his feet.
“Now come on happy feet. Show me something.” I twirled my ponytail.
“Brynn, you’re putting me on the spot. Awww…I’m shy.” Michael rubbed his nose and looked away nervously.
“Okay fine.” I walked past Michael. “I just thought that since my boyfriend was only the best dancer in the known universe, he could teach me a thing or two.” I glanced back at him.
He was doing his best not to smile. “Alright Brynn. You drive a hard bargain. I’ll show you something.”
“Teach me to moonwalk. I’ve been trying to do it for years.” I laughed.
“Okay watch me.” Along the perimeter of the pool, Michael performed his trademark move, making it appear as easy as breathing.
As he came back to me, Michael called. “Now you try it.”
I made an honest feeble attempt and of course the result was anything but as smooth as Michael’s. But then again, he had been moonwalking for longer than I had been alive.
“I know that was pitiful.” I chuckled throwing my arm around Michael’s waist.
“I’ll show you.” Michael sat on the stones and bricks circling pool grabbed onto my ankles.
“Whoa! Just what are you trying to do?” I ran my fingers through Michael’s hair.
“Trying to get your feet in the right position…why?” Michael looked up at me with a smug smirk.
“Oh nothing.” I said innocently and looked off towards the guest house that was a few yards away.
I noticed that Michael was rubbing my left calf gently.
“So you’re a leg man.” I said more as a statement than a question.
“Huh?” Michael gave me a quizzical look. Then he chuckled lightly.
“Nah, not legs. I like the whole girl. I mean what am I going to do with two legs and nothing else?” Michael pulled me down so that I sat on his lap.
I looked over Michael’s face. He was so gorgeous.
“You know I don’t care what you prefer. Take your pick. It’s all here on me.” I wrapped my arms around Michael’s long neck and pulled him mouth down for a kiss.
Oh how I cherished his lips. I was in sheer bliss whenever we kissed. Michael was an extremely timid person and he was a bit held back in his kisses and it just made me treasure them even more.
I shook as he stroked my back lovingly and held me even tighter.
My body temperature skyrocketed. For the bare moment I forgot that Michael and I were out in the open. I was ready and raw for him.
And I could feel his heart beating three ways to Sunday against my chest.
Michael must have been getting hotter because I could feel him starting to push me on my back.
“Just what is this?” A voice demanded.
Michael and I looked up startled to see Rusty standing a few feet away.
He wore a look of mixed shock and apparent anger.
“Rusty, I believe this is called kissing.” I replied snidely.
As Rusty gave me an mean glare, Michael placed a finger to my lips.
“What is it Rusty?” He asked sweetly as if nothing had been going on.
“I got a call from Quincy Jones. He told me that he’d been calling you a lot and you wouldn’t pick up your cell phone.” Rusty proceeded over to us and sat on one of the lounge chairs.
“Oh, well I shut it off so Brynn and I could get a little rest. Besides most of the vocal work is done. All we have to do is get the mixing and stuff done. What did Q want?” Michael wondered helping me to my feet.
“He wanted to let you know that he was going to come sometime this week to come hear the new track and see if he wants to produce it.” Rusty nodded.
“That’s great. I want Q to meet Brynn and know that she’s helping me to make a comeback.” Michael pinched my cheek.
“Among other things.” I whispered.
We both snickered.
“Michael can I talk to you--privately” Rusty stood suddenly.
“Um, sure.” Michael tapped my nose. “I’ll be right back.”
I watched Michael and Rusty walk a few feet away.
And being the semi-nosy type of girl that I am, I followed, keeping a distance, but making sure that I stayed within earshot of the conversation.
“Mike man, what the hell are you doing?” Rusty inquired in a loud whisper.
“Rusty, don’t even start, I know what you’re going to say…” Michael began.
“Damn right you know what I’m going to say. Michael, that girl is nineteen! Nineteen! And she looks even younger in that little pink swimsuit with her hair in a ponytail!” Rusty’s blue eyes were blazing.
Oh, that statement upset me, but for Michael’s sake I kept my mouth shut.
“Oh yeah, how young does she look to you? Tell me.” Michael sneered though his teeth and I saw that the back of his neck was becoming scarlet.
“You want the truth? I think she looks about fourteen.” Rusty exclaimed.
“Well I like how Brynn looks. She’s a pretty girl. She doesn’t need to be all made up and stuff to make me happy.” Michael tossed his head defiantly.
“But Michael how many times do I have to keep reminding you that you just got out of trouble?” Rusty nearly shouted.
Michael abruptly turned and brushed past me, walking briskly around the pool.
Rusty and I jogged to keep up with him.
“Michael you can’t deny the truth man! People will talk!” Rusty called.
“There is such a thing is keeping quiet.” Michael replied and continued to walk and we soon passed where we had started.
“Oh yeah, am I the only one who thinks this is insane? I mean I…I…” Rusty stammered and I looked up at him. I could almost see the gears in his mind grinding with an effort to come up with something to make Michael see his point of view.
“I’ll tell your mother!” He threatened.
Michael stopped so quickly that we almost ran into him.
“You’re going to tell my mother?” Michael snorted.
“Brynn tell the man something new.” Michael grinned at me sheepishly.
I threw my arm around Rusty’s shoulder.
“Yeah, I had the pleasure of having lunch with Mrs. Jackson yesterday. Lovely woman.”
Rusty stared at me blankly.
“And Michael informed her of our current situation and she is actually alright with it.”
I could tell just by the way he was paling, Rusty knew that the rug had been pulled out from up under him.
Michael walked over and wrapped his arms around my shoulders.
“Rusty, this is important.” Michael said seriously. “You cannot mention what’s really going on between me and Brynn to anybody. As you keep preaching, my image is at stake. I know Mother isn’t going to tell. I mean my family knows but we definitely respect each other’s privacy. And the servants here know what’s going on but they to be quiet about it. It goes without saying.”
Rusty shifted from side to side uncomfortably. “Okay, Michael, but I’ll tell you one thing. The paparazzi always find out secrets.” Rusty looked at me coldly.
I pulled free from Michael and approached Rusty. I was so tired of him cramping Michael’s and my style.
“Just as long as you’re not Source Number One…” I warned. “You won’t be all--washed up!” With that I pushed Rusty off into the pool!
Rusty resurfaced a moment later, swearing to high heaven.
Michael and I didn’t care. We were curled up on the bricks laughing uproariously.