Fearless Jones Read Online Free PDF Page A

secret
     of my success and salvation, but I couldn’t stop to search for it for fear I’d get caught and drown in the waters outside
     the Mussel Beach Inn.
    “Paris.” Her lips were touching my ear.
    I tried to jump, but her arms were around me. Her breasts were heavy against my back.
    “I thought you said —” I started to say.
    “Shhhh,” she whispered. “What you got down here?”
    I heard the zipper from under the blanket and then I felt the silken warmth of her hand.
    “Dang,” she said in what I knew was real surprise. “I could use three hands on you.”
    There are no two lovers alike. Every man and woman has different needs and pleasures in bed. I’ve always known this. It’s
     part of the reason that I have so much anticipation the first time with a new woman. But that night I realized that everybody
     is different with every new love they meet. Coming together with Elana made me into a new man. I was jumping through hoops
     I hadn’t known were there. Elana gave me pleasure in places I never associated with sex.
    Together we were like an overripe peach, just dripping with sweetness and sticky with love. My orgasms were so strong that
     I didn’t even feel the ejaculations. But they were in no way superior to the feel of her teeth at the back of my neck.
    From a worried sleep to passionate love to a deep slumber she took me. The ocean was crashing, and the cool air drove me deeper
     into the blankets. At the first moment of consciousness I was smiling and placated. But then I began to sense that I was alone.
    Morning light was coming through the wavy curtains. Elana was not in my bed and neither was she in hers. The bathroom was
     empty. My pants were strewn in the middle of the floor. My wallet was laid open, emptied of cash. The .38 was gone too.
    She hadn’t taken the five-dollar bill that I keep in my shoe. I always thought it would come in handy if I was mugged late
     one night and had to pay for a taxi ride home. I never imagined that a mugging would come in the form of sex. And, as much
     as Iwanted to be mad, as much as I was mad, I still appreciated the way she had robbed me. At least I did until I realized that
     she had also stolen my car.
    The blacktop lot to the motel was completely empty. It was ten A.M. and I was marooned in Venice for no reason other than I was a fool.
    I took a bus directly to the Bank of America branch on Normandie. I made a withdrawal, which took a while because I was closing
     out my account, and carried my money back home.
    THERE WAS no crowd, and so I figured the fire must have happened either the night before or early in the morning. Whenever it happened
     it must have raged, because there weren’t ten books out of over three thousand that survived the blaze. My storefront rental
     was razed to the ground. Only the metal fixtures and the extra thick wood of my desk and filing cabinet left any vestige of
     the life I had been trying to build.
    I wept like a child. The tears ran down my cheeks, and my hands hung down. I stood there in the middle of the blackened lot
     that had been my future, quivering from the diaphragm.
    “Mr. Minton.” It was Theodore Wally from the Superette. He was standing at my side ready to catch me in case I were to fall
     again.
    “What happened?” I asked.
    “It was a fire last night,” the old-faced youth told me. He seemed almost as upset as I was. He might have even shared a tear
     or two with me. “The fire inspector came and asked me questions about you. I told him what happent yesterday. I hope that
     wasn’t bad.”
    “What am I gonna do now?” I moaned. “That was everything I ever owned.”
    “Your insurance’ll pay for it, won’t it?” Theodore asked hopefully.
    “Insurance? Man, I didn’t have no insurance.” I laughed a little too loudly.
    “Can I do something for you?” Wally asked. “Anything you want.”
    “Did the inspector say anything about the fire?”
    “He said suspicious. Suspicious.”
    I