Hello everyone! As I promised a few weeks ago, here is the sequel to Hand in unlovable hand. I hope you enjoy it.
Please, do take the time to review. All constructive feedback as well as encouragement is welcome.
Now kick back and enjoy the show.
Love you all,
xoxoxo Clotgirl xoxoxo
The city lights glimmered and sparkled around him as he stood on his luxurious terrace and the freezing winter breeze glided across his chilled face. Eric Cartman took the glass of well cooled cognac to his lips and swallowed a generous gulp of the burning liquid as he glanced at the majestic view of the city, the place he had been calling home for many years before he let a sigh escape his breath.
Five and a half years prior, the plan he had devised with his former assistant had gone into action and the pact between him, Kyle Broflovski, Flavia Fornari and Trent Boyett was born. The objective was simple and clear: The Oval at all cost.
He glanced down at his wristwatch and saw it was almost time for his pregnant wife to go take her daily hour-long bath with God knows what special kind of exotic salts, while she listened to classical music for reasons unknown to him. All he was cared about was the fact that for an hour, she'd be as good as deaf and blind, confined in the master bathroom.
An hour a day was all the private, personal time he'd get with the true love of his life.
He quickly gulped down the last of his cognac before he opened the sliding door and let himself back inside. The heat of his luxurious triplex was welcomed as he shed his coat, disposed of his glass into the sink and made his way the room he had been sharing with his wife, Tiffany. The bump on her belly was beginning to be encumbering for her, and he had to help her get in and out of the bathtub.
"Ah, there you are sweetie! Always on time for my nightly ritual." She lovingly said as he entered the room.
"Nothing is too good for my little princess. Is the bath done running yet?" He asked as he feigned a smile and extended his hand towards her.
The pregnant woman nodded and took her husband's hand to be slowly led to the master bathroom where she undid the belt of her pink silk bathrobe and allowed it to slide off her onto the floor. Eric turned off the water faucets and took his wife's hand and helped her as she lifted her leg with much effort to get into the steamy water. Once her right leg was in, all her weight and that of the child she was caring was being upheld by the tycoon she had married and the struggle of bringing her left leg in the tub began. Finally, the billionaire would gently lower her into her bath until her back was comfortably rested and all but her head was submerged by the hot water and bubbles.
"Alright sweetie. I'll be back in an hour. If there's anything, just call for me and I'll be right there." The brunet told her as he handed her the headphones she used to listen to Tchaikovsky or Rimsky Korsakov.
She thanked him, put her headphones on and pressed play before she blew him a kiss and lowered her silk mask to cover her eyes. Then, and only then would Cartman close the door behind him while his heart wanted to jump out his chest. He set the timer on his phone for sixty minutes and ran to his private elevator. Like clockwork, the doors opened to reveal the most gorgeous redhead in the world.
"I missed you Jew." Eric Purred as the redhead jumped in his arms.
"I missed you too fat ass." Kyle rebuked before he planted his lips onto lover's.
They kept kissing, their tongues intertwining, as they clumsily made their way to Kyle's old bedroom, well his official old one, where he slept all these years ago when he moved to New York with his daughter after Rebecca divorced him. The lovers crashed on the bed and began to undress each other without wasting a minute.
Every second was precious – an hour a day, that's all they had.
The redhead's mouth was on his lover's stiffened member the moment it was exposed, and the brunet grabbed two handfuls of red locks as he grunted as quietly as possible in case his wife would take off her headphones for a reason or another. Once he felt he was too close to the point of no return, he pulled his dick out of his lover's mouth and laid him down face first onto the supple mattress.
The brunet then sucked his index and major fingers, covering them with as much saliva as he could and gently inserted them into the smaller man's entrance. He began to work, slowly and gently, so he could loosen him up as much as possible. It didn't require as much effort as it did when the two first had reconnected; they had been intimate so many times that Kyle was used to what was next to come.
"Take me now, Eric. I've been wanting you inside me all day." He beggingly moaned.
It didn't take much more to convince him and he promptly took his fingers out to make room for something much bigger and stiffer. He pressed his manhood against his lover's hole and gently penetrated him. Carefully, he began thrusting and the two of them moaned. Cartman picked up the pace and had to concentrate not to come there and then. The moans coming from Kyle were a delight to his ears.
"I love you." Kyle breathily murmured.
Upon hearing those words, words as sweet as candy, Eric filled his lover with his seed.
"I love you too." He panted while he rolled off Kyle and immediately pulled him tightly into his arms.
The two lovers, still in a haze, laid there for a few moments in order to regain their breaths as well as their spirits. At times like these, nothing mattered to them; it was as though the whole world disappeared. The two of them were happy, and sadly that's the only consolation that they had – To be blissfully happy everyday for an hour.
Soon, Eric would reach his phone – 10 minutes left. He informed his lover that it was almost time, so he and Kyle would get dressed again and then arranged their hair so they wouldn't look too disheveled. Finally, the two of them would wash their hands before Eric walked Kyle to the elevator, and the two of them would share one final kiss before the redhead disappeared behind the doors
A lump in his throat, he walked back unit 52A, the new home he shared with his second wife and his eldest child. The three of them had moved to a much smaller condominium at the One Madison shortly before Eric and Tiffany tied the knot - It was the easiest solution for everyone involved.
The new place, although smaller than the penthouse they previously lived in, was still quite spacious. It had a gorgeous kitchen where Flavia and Ayala would spend their Sunday afternoons baking at first – That was until the blonde became Governor for the State of New York. They had previously decided that if Flavia was to become Governor, she'd make the move to Albany alone so Ayala wouldn't have to go through another move far from the new friends she had made at Dwight. And so, they decided that one week, Kyle and Ayala would make the three hour drive to the New York State Executive Mansion on Friday and come back on Sunday, and the next week, it would be Flavia's turn to come back to the One Madison for the week end.
He unlocked the door to his condo very quietly; although his daughter's room was at the other end of the place, and that his thirteen year old child now had a tendency to listen to questionable music very loudly with headphones, he didn't dare take a chance to be caught and subsequently be interrogated. After briefly nodding at the security officer guarding his door, he let himself him; for a little over three years and due to his new wife's position, bodyguards had become part of his everyday life.
Luckily for him, she wasn't in any of the common spaces, which meant she was either at washing up before bed, or in her bedroom doing homework. After checking the three lavatories, he concluded she was in her room. He grabbed some iced tea from the kitchen and went straight to his office to finish a file before bedtime. He had been overworked since Tiffany slowed down at their firm after she became pregnant and he wanted the work to be up to date if their plan succeeded. He knew the presidential race was only a few months away from beginning and that should the plan succeed, his life and that of everyone close to him would be forever changed.
When he found out Tiffany was expecting, his heart had been broken. Having had children himself, he knew how babies were made, and he couldn't help but to feel betrayed by Cartman, but when he accepted the terms and conditions of that wretched plan, he knew damn well it was bound to happen. Upon hearing the news, he spent his spare time locked in his study and drowning himself in iced tea spiked with whiskey.
Everyone thought he had stopped drinking, except for the occasional glass of wine or the odd beer he'd order once in a while at a gala or when he went out for dinner with Cartman or Flavia, but since Eric knocked up Tiffany, he hid several bottles of whisky across his study and would spike his beverages. It was of course nothing compared to the quantity he used to ingest when he still lived in South Park with his ex-wife, and the fact that Flavia lived three hours away most of the time, and that his daughter would usually go to bed early, made it easy to get away with it.
As he flipped through pages upon pages of a transcript, scribbling notes that his assistant would later type up, a knock interrupted him.
"Come in." He answered before the door opened, revealing his daughter wearing a nightgown. He briefly looked up at her before drawing his attention back to his documents.
"Daddy, I wanted to let you know I'll be going to Vanessa's place tomorrow night and I'll sleep there." She coldly stated despite her father's furrowed brows clearly stating his disapproval.
"That is out of question young lady. Not on a school night, and besides, we're going to Albany the following day and you will need to pack your stuff." He severely replied, never taking his eyes from the papers he was studying.
"Come on, daddy! I can never spend time with my friends on weekends because we're either in Albany, of Flavia is over and wants to spend time with me, why can't I just-"
"Ayala-" Her father interrupted, quickly giving her a warning glance, before being himself cut off.
"I have a big History exam Friday morning and I wanted to study with Vanessa; she's top of the class and I need all the help I can get." She continued, ignoring her father sternness.
"If you're struggling, we'll get you a tutor." He flatly responded.
"But my test is on Friday! This Friday! Do you want me to fail? Please, daddy! If I can't maintain a B average in all my classes, I'll be kicked off the ballet troupe." She implored, her voice cracking.
"How about you ask her to come for a sleepover?" He suggested.
Ayala's eyes grew the size of saucers at his words and began to fill with tears.
"No! I am so sick and tired of being locked up in here, or in school, or at the studio all the time! This is just like when I got really sick a few years ago before you left mom. Please daddy, just this one time, can I please just go to Vanessa's and study in peace?" She implored.
He sighed. He couldn't resist his dear little girl when she spoke to him that way. He knew how much she loved to dance, and he had known that History was never her strength as she had a terrible memory for dates and events. On top of it, the memory of her mystery illness back when she was eight, and how miserable they both were during those difficult times had moved him. After pondering a few moments, he made up his mind and decided to concede, for once.
"Alright, you win this time." He began and his daughter's green eyes lit up. "But there will be conditions: First of all, you will pack your bag for Albany tonight and leave it by the front door." He paused again looking at her straight in the eyes as she nodded back at him. "Secondly, we will get you a tutor. If you are starting to have trouble, it is better to take care of it now than later." He kept his glance on her, but she had no reaction this time. "And finally, you are to go from your dance rehearsal directly to Vanessa's place and stay there for the night." He concluded.
"That's not fair! What if we wanna go pick up something to eat?" Ayala objected.
"Did I stutter? You will go from the dance studio straight to Vanessa's house, and if her parents won't feed you girls, just order something in. You are going there to study and sleep; that's it, that's all. Is that clear?" He snapped, slightly raising his voice.
"Yes daddy." She replied in a defeated tone.
"Good. I'll call Flavia so she can make the arrangements to get you a security officer that will drive you girls after your rehearsal and to give you a ride to school the following morning. Let Vanessa know that he will be stationed behind her door so she may inform her parents." Kyle then added.
"Is that really necessary?" She whined before her father gently chuckled.
"Of course, it's necessary! It's more than necessary! It's protocol; your stepmother is the Governor of New York State. Why do you think we are being escorted everywhere and that a bodyguard is standing outside our home as we speak?" He explained as calmly as he could.
"It would have been nice to be just an ordinary teenager for once…" She muttered as her saddened eyes looked down at the floor.
"I know sweetie, trust me, I know…"
Ayala's eyes met her father's once again. He faintly smiled at her; she could tell he was trying his hardest to make it look sincere, but she didn't buy it.
"I'll go pack my bags for tomorrow and for Friday. Good night daddy." She simply stated before she turned on her heel and closed the office door once she was out.
Kyle waited a few moments before he unlocked the cabinet door of his desk, pulled out the whiskey bottle and poured a fair amount in whatever little iced tea was left.
She let the smoke tickle her lungs for a few seconds before she exhaled it and promptly took another drag from her cigarette. Every day, she'd wait until it was pitch dark in the evening to have her daily cigarette. Then, she'd sneak out through the back with her favorite bodyguard and go hide amongst the trees to satisfy her secret vice. Sometimes, Flavia and Trent would exchange tender words that would otherwise be forbidden in front of other staff, other times they'd discuss everything or anything, from current events to sports, and occasionally, as it was the case now, they'd remain silent.
Before sneaking outside the New York State Executive Mansion, she had received a phone call from her current husband and was asked to have a security officer for her stepdaughter the following night. Since her husband accepted his daughter's request, the blonde was obliged to deliver; him having the final say in anything pertaining to Ayala was part of their arrangement.
She finished her cigarette, put it out against the bark of a tree and handed the butt to Trent who flung it over the fence. Trent knew she was preoccupied – he was right next to her when she got the call.
"Why are you so worried about Little Broflovski? It won't be the first time a kid has a sleepover during a weeknight." He almost mocked as they walked back.
"That's not why I am worried. I am worried about her safety because her friend lives in one of those lavish townhouses in Manhattan's Upper West Side." She nervously replied.
"You're worried because her friend comes from a loaded family?" Trent chuckled as he opened the door for Flavia to get in.
"Thanks, and no, I am worried because there are too many ways to get in and out of a townhouse as opposed to a condo. At the One Madison, people must go through the concierge and a security officer before they can get into my place. Over there, they have a front and a back door, and that's without counting easily reachable windows." She rebuked as she took her thick winter jacket off.
She headed upstairs, to her bedroom, as Trent followed her, and he shut the door once both were in.
"I don't know, Trent. Call me crazy but I'm so scared someone will try to snatch her again, or worse…" She continued as she thought of the incident in Hawaii and her final encounter with her ex-husband.
"Hey, it's OK. The Hawaii creep is long gone, and the other piece of human garbage has been MIA for five years. No one will ever hurt you or your family again." He said as he cupped her face in his hands.
"Exactly! God knows where Tom is! I keep picturing him lurking around my family and waiting for the perfect moment to strike. I know damn well he'll use any means necessary to hurt me." She cried.
Trent drew in a deep breath; he knew damn well were Tom was – his remains that it. Since the attack, Flavia lived in constant fear of meeting him face to face once more. Trent had been wanting to tell her the truth many times since he disposed of that monster, if only to give her peace of mind. If he did that though, he'd have a terrible price to pay; she would never trust him, or her former boss again.
"Do you want me to go to the city and be her security officer tomorrow night and Friday morning? You're not scheduled to go anywhere in the next few days and there are plenty of officers here that you know and trust beside me." He proposed, hoping it'd reassure her.
"I'd love that, but if I send you, she'll know that you'll be watching over her like a hawk. I don't want to smother her either; her childhood's been messed up enough already." She sighed.
"How about you designate someone from the city to be her official bodyguard, and I will just lurk from a distance, for safe measure? I could check the back of the townhouse to make sure no one tries to get in the back door, for instance." He suggested after a few moments of reflection.
Flavia's face lit up at Trent's words and she practically jumped in his arms.
"That's an excellent idea! Yes, please do. It would put my mind at ease. And then, on Friday afternoon, you can just show up at the condo to pick Kyle and Ayala up and give them a ride here." She thanked as she planted numerous pecks on his necks and cheeks.
He held her tightly and let himself bathe in self-satisfaction for a few moments before he let her back down.
"Alright then, I'll leave tomorrow right after lunch. I'm sure all will go well, but I will miss you the next few days." He confessed as he stroked her back.
"I know… it's gonna suck! I won't be able to really be with you again until Sunday night…" She whined before she kissed his neck.
"I guess I should give you a little something to tie you over until then…" He teased as he licked his upper lip.
"You mean that thing you do with your mouth?" She whispered as her lips spread into a wide smile.
He kissed her passionately and picked her up again before he laid her down on her bed.
She wiped a fallen tear while she was packing her second bag. The first bag was filled with the stuff she would bring to the Estate was already by the entrance door. She hated that place, just like she hated the new condo her father and stepmother bought. She missed the days when they all lived together happily in Eric's penthouse; the meals they all shared, the fun filled days Flavia would organize for the two of them and the early days of the foundation bearing her name had now become a distant memory.
Ayala had been so thrilled that one Saturday morning she barged in Flavia's room, back when they still lived in the penthouse, to find her father laying next to her. She had noticed sometime before that the two of them had been getting close; they'd sometimes go to dinner together or to the movies, and she was hoping that her father would find happiness with the blonde. She witnessed the hell he was living when he was still married to her mom, and she wanted her father to be happy – he, out of all people, deserved it.
The day they tied the know, she was ecstatic. She had been the flower girl for Eric's and Tiffany's wedding a few weeks prior and she also played that part at her dad's and Flavia's wedding. She was so happy when they exchanged their vows in a civil ceremony – Flavia didn't wish to convert to Judaism. She gave her grandmother dirty looks whenever she spoke badly of the blonde she had grown so attached to.
The redhead was grateful when Flavia decided to not run for Senate because she didn't want her new family to Washington, and instead ran for Governor. When she won, she was very happy for her stepmom, but then, when it was time to face the music and deal with all the changes that came with her new job, she was devastated to see her move all the way to Albany.
Granted, it was only three hours away, but that meant seeing her significantly less. During the summer, she'd spend the first month off from school in South Park to visit her mother, her little brother and her grandparents on both sides. The remainder of the break would be spent in Albany, in the home provided to her stepmom by the State; a creepy old mansion that she loathed with all her being.
She was looking forward to the next day; she couldn't remember the last time she had slept over at a friend's house. The fact that she'd have a security officer accompanying her blew the plans she had made with her friends, but she figured that they could just have a pyjama party instead and just kick back, eat a ton of popcorn and watch some chick flicks in Vanessa's room instead.
Vanessa was the very first friend she made at Dwight in the fourth grade. She had started the school year in South Park and began attending Dwight School shortly before her ninth birthday. On her first day there, the teacher had seated her next to Vanessa. She was a sweet girl with a lovely disposition and her long, thick chocolate mane was the envy of many girls in her class. The two of them clicked almost instantly and soon, Ayala would also be very close to Vanessa's good friend, the lovely raven-haired Ashley who happened to have an older brother, Evan, that was quite popular within the middle school crowd at Dwight. The three girls had been inseparable since. Their peers and their teachers often would refer to them as the three amigos, or the three musketeers, and even at times they were referred to as the Holy Trinity.
Just as she was about to close her bag, her phone rang; it was Vanessa requesting to facetime her.
"Hey Vanessa!" She greeted once she accepted the call.
"Hello my gorgeous. Did our plan work? Did your dad buy it?" Vanessa asked her mischievously.
"Yeah, he did but we won't be able to go to the party. My dad is making a bodyguard follow me around tomorrow night. He will need to be stationed behind your door all night." The redhead sighed.
"Are you fucking kidding me? That's bullshit!" her friend exclaimed.
"Yeah, I know but I don't have a choice. One of the many perks that come with being the stepdaughter of a Governor, I guess." She sarcastically replied.
"That's no biggie, we'll just sneak out of my room. It's really easy; I've been doing that shit since the third grade." Vanessa whispered.
"What if we get caught?" Ayala asked, shocked by Vanessa's audacity.
"Don't worry about that, we won't. I've done it several times, and my parents are completely oblivious. I can't believe we're gonna go to Evan's party! Ashley told me that his parties are legendary!" The brunette beamed, changing the subject to something more pleasant.
"Yeah, I heard all the popular seniors and sophomores will be going." The redhead squealed. "We'll be the only middle schoolers there!"
"I know, right? We must look perfect, so the older guys notice us. Any idea what you're gonna wear?" The brunet inquired.
"Well, all my stuff is super formal… like ballgowns or super conservative dresses. I don't really have anything casual to wear other than jeans and t-shirts." Ayala replied, pointing the camera to the jeans and t-shirt she was about to pack in her bag.
"That won't do; it's far too basic for a party of that caliber. Don't worry, I'll lend you an outfit and I'll even do your hair and makeup. We have to look fucking impeccable so that these boys will be all over us." Her friend giggled.
"Thank you so much. I really suck at doing my hair and makeup." The redhead chuckled, aware of her own limitations.
"Don't mention it; what are friends for?" The brunette started. "I have a gorgeous leopard print miniskirt and a lime tube top that I can totally picture you in. With your newly grown boobs, you'll look fantastic. I will also lend you my cropped leather jacket. All you have to bring would be a pair of black boots and I'll make you look like you're straight out of a magazine." She continued. "As for jewelry and accessories, you can just go through my stuff. You know I have eccentric, but exquisite taste after all." She concluded in her signature extravagant tone.
Whenever Vanessa would take that tone, she'd bring her left shoulder forward and purse her lips, which always managed to make Ayala laugh without fail.
The two friends said their goodbyes before they terminated the facetime call. Ayala owned very simple shoes and boots and sadly, her feet were a different size from her friends and therefore, she was never able to borrow shoes from them. Luckily, she was now the same size as Flavia and ever since she had become Governor, she had to retire her flashier and more extravagant shoes in order to stick to the much more modest and conservative look she was expected to adopt while serving her term.
The redhead snuck out of her room and tippy toed to her father's room and entered the walk-in closet he shared with Flavia. She immediately spotted the boots she had in mind for the party – a pair of black varnished leather Louboutin knee high stiletto boots. She immediately snatched them and quietly went back to her room to try them on. They fit her perfectly, but she knew she'd have to get used to the very thin three-inch heel.
She stuffed the prized boots at the bottom of her gym bag and went to bed. Sleep didn't come easily; she kept thinking about how exciting the following day was going to be. She was nervous about the part where she'd have to sneak out of her friend's bedroom. It was something she had never done in her life, and she was terrified of being caught.