Only You (Greyson #1)

The Greene's

Chapter 59

Tristan

I put Claire down in front of me.  At least she was half way dressed...with my cum running down her legs. 

"HI!" Claire explored pulling down on my tee shirts hem,"Mom, dad what are you going here? What happen to Europe?"

"Nina call us..." Mrs. Greene said eyeing as she arched a slender brow on me and put her petite hands on her hips. She'd matured... nicely since I was in high-school. Mrs. Greene  black hair was woven into a braid, nothing fancy, just to keep the sweat out of her eyes. Her skin was soft and warm brown, flawless. Her eyes seemed to have gotten brighter, more brilliant. They sparkled in the sunlight like a pair of luminescent diamonds, radiant and beautiful. Her cheeks were slightly pink. Her perfectly-shaped lips were a beautiful rose bud pink just like Claire's. She wore a form fitting dress of lacey periwinkle. Claire looked exactly like a younger version her mother which was wonderful for Claire, she was going to a MILF,"And after what you said over the phone and the new reports. You got married?"

Someone smelled like.... moth balls?

I slowly started to back away not wanting to leave Claire but I definitely needed pants,"Uuumm I..Well...Its kind of a funny...story..."

"Jesus! Claire we leave for a second and  you... you..." Mr. Greene yelled. His cowboyish gait was at odds with the Savile Row suit. There was a casualness to it that wasn't quite right in cloth so crisp. All that was missing was the gun and ten gallon hat. When he opened his mouth it was with a thick Texan accent. His beard clung to his face in clumps like moss on a dry rock. Fires of fury and hatred were smoldering in his narrowed eyes as Mr. Greene looked pasted his daughter to me. Like me he stood at least six feet tall. Years of working concoction gave him muscles and buck, but the years had not been kind to him. Form his dry mouth and sand paper skin I could tell he was sick.

But, how sick?

I could smell Claire's lavender shampoo as she stood in front of me, Mrs. Greene's Chanel number 5---  including rose, ylang-ylang, jasmine, lily of the valley and iris - layered over a warm, woody base of vetiver, sandalwood, vanilla, amber and patchouli--- and Mr. Green didn't just smell like smoke but... something familiar to me.

Death.

Like a body left out in the sun for a couple days. But, Mr. Greene hind the smell with bad men's cologne it was overpowering the musty, sharp odor.

He's dying.

"....let me get pants", Claire shout running back to the bedroom.

I now stood butt ass naked in front of Claire's parents again. I cupped my privates not knowing if I could just shut the door or leave. 

"Are you proud of yourself?" Mr. Green coughed. "Preying on Claire when you know she is in a dark place".

"You should leave", Mrs. Greene pledged. That wasn't going to happen. "Give her time to heal---"

"You have cancer", I said finally putting the pieces together. I saw both of Claire's parents faces fall,"I can smell it on your breathe. The rot. Lung cancer? Smoking dose that. But by the smell alone I would guess you have three or fours years left to live? That would explain the sudden move to Florida and the vacation". Them "giving" Claire the house and their excitement at Jordan wanting to marry Claire.

"TRISTAN! Can you not stand naked in front of parents?" Claire called out to me. I didn't break my eye contract with Mr. Greene.

"She doesn't know", Staring had become our only form of communication. Glare and spit, it was all Mr. Greene could do. The only thing that moved was his masticating jaw, working the tobacco around his yellowed teeth. His eyes were hard-rimmed and fixed, so much so that it was as if he was no longer able to move his eyeballs, like they'd rusted into place.