I wish I had a camera. Their expressions are priceless. I can't blame them though. I'm laying on my stomach, my shirt half off. My jeans have slid down past my hips, and dear ol' Tim is lying on top of me. Did I mention my face is streaked with tears? I can only imagine how Tim's face is...fuckin' priceless.

Before Tim can even react, Jeff grabs him and throws him againt the sofa. Both he and Heath start kicking and punching him, screaming and taunting him. Unfortunately, Tim has lost consciousness. Too bad, I would have loved to see him weasel his way out of this one. This is what he deserves though: no fuckin' mercy. No one is going to try to bring Brian down...no one.

I pull my pants up and fix my shirt, watching the scene in front of me. I wish I had some popcorn. Heath pulls out his gun and tells me to shut my eyes. Why in the hell would I want to do that? He shoots the fucker in the head. I try not to sigh too loudly: the head is always so fuckin' bloody. "Where the fuck is Harry?" I hear Jeff ask, obviously pissed off that Harry brought this sicko into our family. Yeah, Harry was going to get his. But I was pretty sure that Brian would handle that one personally.

After calling the cleaners and making sure that innocent lil' me was alright, they head out and let me take a shower. Once the door closes, I glance at Tim's body. "Fuckin' asshole," I mutter. Now I know what you're thinking. You're thinking, why didn't I tell Jeff and Heath that he was a cop. Well the answer is obvious, really. If I announce that Tim was an undercover agent, then what will that do? It will cause distrust and instability within the family. We don't need that. By letting them believe that Tim had tried to fuck me against my will makes this whole tirade a domestic issue. A domestic issue regarding respect for the boss and his property (ie. me). Yes, property. I know, it's so fuckin' caveman like, but I'm showing you their perspective, alright? Deal with it.

Entering the shower, I smile to myself. I'm good. No, really, I am fuckin' good. Rinsing off, I imagine what Brian is going to do to Harry. I love it. I actually find myself getting a hard just thinking about it. I turn off the water and grab a towel. What would Brian do without me, I ask to myself, still smiling. Not that I expect anything from Brian. This was all in a day's work.

Returning to my easel, I glance to where Tim's body once lay. I have to admit, I am truly impressed at how quickly those cleaners work. Picking up my paintbrush, I begin my newest masterpiece.

************************************************

3:00 AM. I squint at the clock. "Brian?" I mumble, feeling him crawl into bed. "Yeah." His voice sounds tired. "I told you he was a cop." Brian lies down beside me, tracing his fingers down my naked back. "What did he say?" I close my eyes again, murmuring, "Don't worry about it, Brian. I took care of it." And I did. I contacted our connection at the police station and gave him Tim's description and possible connections. Within a few hours I found out Tim's real name, his department and the guy who was running the operation. Like I said, I took care of it. He presses his body against me and I am happy to feel that he's naked as well. "Did you see Harry?" Brian combs my hair with his fingers, "Taken care of." "Personally?" "Of course." I turn around to face him. I had forgotten about the bruise on my face, however Brian's shocked expression reminds me of the fact. "You okay?" He asks, touching my cheek. I nod, "Nothing I couldn't handle." He sighs, frustrated, "You shouldn't have to though." "Brian," I begin, "we've talked about this." I don't need him to start feeling guilty. He nods, tracing my lips with his fingertips. "I just fuckin' hate seeing you get hurt." "I can take care of myself." "I know. But it still pisses me off." "I suppose you took that aggression out on Harry." "Of course." I snicker, lying back down against the pillow. He kisses my shoulder before reaching for the drawer and pulling out a condom with lube. I close my eyes. Maybe one day we'll fuck without a condom. Brian's already stopped tricking. It's only a matter of time. I'm not going to push the issue though. I'm happy either way. Brian kisses the nape of my neck and I roll onto my side, my eyes still closed. His hands roam across my body, softly at first and then a bit harder. I bite my lip as he pushes his cock into my ass. Moaning softly, I relax, letting him enter me deeper. "Did he touch you?" He asks, his hands roughly running up and down my chest and arms, his mouth kissing my bruised cheek. "Mmmm," is all I can say. "Did he try to fuck you?" He pumps his dick into me at a quicker, yet still gentle pace. "You care?" I ask, provoking him. It's a habit, really. "Fuck you," he states, though there is no hint of anger in his voice. He asks again, "Did he try to fuck you?" "Would that bother you?" I'm trying really hard to be a brat, but his cock feels so good. I'm having a hard time focusing. "Mine," he whispers into my ear before licking my lobe. Shivers shoot down my spine. I love this man's tongue. "You didn't seem that concerned when Ethan was fucking me." Brian immediately pulls out, pushing me onto my back and lifting my hips up before slamming his dick into my ass once more. I cry out in surprise. He pulls out again, slamming even harder (though I hadn't thought that was possible) into me. "Mine," he says through clenched teeth. I know I struck a nerve. Well, good. Serves him right. Not that I complained that much about Ethan fucking me. He wasn't that bad. He wasn't as good as Brian, but no one is as good at Brian. Brian continues to plow my ass and I'm screaming into the pillow. "Oh God, oh fuckin' God...yes...yes..." No one can make me scream like Brian can. In fact, I don't think I've ever screamed out during sex with anyone but Brian. "Holy shit...Brian...Brian.... Brian...." I stop paying attention to what I'm saying, it doesn't matter. All I know is that Brian is a fuckin' god in the bedroom. "You're a fuckin' god!" Did I say that out loud? Yep, I did, and I'm pretty sure Brian heard me because he's fucking me even harder (can you believe it? I didn't think that was humanly possible, but I guess it is) There is no way I'll be able to walk tomorrow, and I am not complaining. I'm suddenly cumming and Brian is cumming right along with me. Falling against me, I drop back down onto the bed. He catches his breath, murmuring, "Mine..." I nod, my voice hoarse from having the shit fucked out of me, "Yours," I agree. Closing my eyes, I'm about to pass out completely when I hear Brian begin to chuckle, "Just to clarify...am I a fucking-god or a fuckin' god?" I smile, rolling over to kiss his lips, "Both," I answer. Snuggling against his chest, I let Brian absorb that information into his already inflated ego. "G'night, Bri," I mumble, falling asleep before Brian can wish the same to me.