Undercover

by Avery Aster

  Warner’s mouth curved into a smile and his hazel eyes opened. “My Red.” He pulled her onto his lap.

  “What happened to staying in Cannes this week?” She ran her hands along the vertical white buttons on his shirt.

  “I missed you,” he replied without hesitation, massaging her hand with his.

  “Really?” She bit the inside of her cheek, stifling a grin as she wrapped her fingers around his.

  “Smile. Your cheek-biting thing is getting old.” He laughed. Rubbing his hand along her jawline, he kissed her. “I packed my things and boarded the jet. We taxied halfway down the runway and experienced a mechanical issue, so I flew commercial to London only hours after I dropped you off. I thought about calling you from Heathrow airport, but wanted to surprise you. I couldn’t get a flight to New York. I had to layover in London first. No direct flights. Everything was booked up.”

  “I’ll bet.” She kissed his hands, listening, happy that he sat here. Taddy felt as if her heart might explode. The beats of her heart boomed faster than a Waris Sugar tempo.

  “I discovered then that I didn’t have my charger with me. I’d left it at Hôtel de France. So, my phone died. Once in London, I took a flight to Toronto and here I am, home in New York—with you.”

  “You flew twenty-four hours…to see me?”

  “I did.” Warner’s facial stubble told her he spoke the truth.

  “A day in the air is the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done.” Stunned, she didn’t know what to say.

  “Nah. The sweetest thing is dreaming about you after trying to get Brigitte at Secrète de St. Barth spa to track down Mademoiselle Red, who on December thirtieth received a vajazzling appointment.” He gave her a sidelong glance, tapping his hand on the card she held in her hand.

  “That explains this ticket.” She stood, surprised and more certain than ever that Warner Truman was hers to have.

  He nodded.

  “Come with me, please…”

  “A shower would be really good about now.” He stood taller than she’d remembered, more exquisite than she’d imagined.

  She took his hand in hers and led him into her bedroom.

  He showered.

  Taddy leaned against the bed, waiting for him to return. Warner came from the bathroom, his wet hair tousled into a thick spike. The sincerity in his eyes made her feel warm inside. His intentions shone clear. It was obvious to her that he was hers.

  His hands rested on his hips. “Afraid I wouldn’t come to New York to see you?”

  “Terrified,” she admitted. “Though you do live here, too, ya know.”

  Stepping forward, he tilted her chin, studying her face. “I love you, Taddy.” He placed his lips over hers, allowing nothing between them. Sinking his tongue into her mouth, he claimed her as she’d always dreamt.

  Face tingling, palms itching, heart jumping, she confessed, “I love you, too.” A happy cry broke from her lips.

  He undressed her. “I want this to work.”

  She closed her eyes and lifted her hands in the air, turning around as he removed her blouse and skirt. She realized no one had ever said they’d loved her—at least not out loud. Not her parents, friends or her employees. She’d verbalized love to them all but never heard it in return. Love sounded better than music. It felt better than words. Warner was love.

  He kissed her again, placing her in the center of the bed. “This isn’t going to be easy with our schedules, but we’ll manage.”

  “Thank you, Mr. Pragmatic.” She mocked his reservations.

  “I’ve blocked out the whole week to be here in New York with you.” His adorable eyebrows rose in expectation of a thank-you.

  “You have?” She couldn’t imagine. “You’ll be able to come to my Candy Land Ball. I’ll have to get you a costume in the morning.”

  He lifted her back further onto the pillows. “I can’t wait to meet your friends. But I’m not wearing a costume.”

  “It’s a requirement. No costume, no admission,” she teased.

  “Hmm.” Cupping her breasts in his hands, he circled each nipple with his tongue. “My mouth missed your girls.” He hummed to himself. His tongue lashed clockwise then counterclockwise over her sensitive flesh before flicking back and forth over the tips of her nipples.

  His fingers found what he wanted between her legs. “You’re wet already.”

  “My floodgates burst the second you told me you loved me.”

  “Woo-hoo!” he shouted. “I L-O-V-E you, and I love it when you’re soaked.” His hands embraced her as he patted and tapped her thin crevice into frenzy. Warner’s tongue traced around the areola then bit down.

  “Warner!”

  He sucked on her nipples and patted the hard nub of her clit before he dropped his head. Lifting her legs, he buried his face between them. “Yeah, baby?” Her thighs spread wide. All of a sudden, he pressed down on her slit and exhaled, filling her with air.

  “Oooh.” Her eyes closed as she dug her nails into her palms. His lips came down over her folds. “Warner.” She heard him inhale through his mouth. “Fuuuck.” There was a deep suction over her vulva, one she’d never felt. An urge to kick her legs from the orgasm trembled through her as she came.

  He held her legs down and repeated his vagina-clitoris-centric kiss over and over again.

  Grabbing onto the pillow’s edges, she pulled herself up in ecstasy. “I can’t take any more. You’re driving me crazy.”

  “Get used to it.” He yanked her by the ankles closer to him and buried his face over her clit, rotating his fingers inside her. “Tonight, I want you to come again and again for me.”

  Her fingers knotted at his scalp, body trembling, she moaned, “Warner, not again, not this soon. I’ve never…”

  Warner fingered her with his entire hand, almost fisting her.

  Body shuddering, she couldn’t hold out any longer. “Big Daddy.” Fuck, fuck, fuck. She held on to his shoulders while her core shook. Shuddering in ecstasy, she creamed.

  He buried his face between her legs, lapping her up, and muttered, “You on the pill?”

  “I’ve taken birth control for years. Not sure why, though. It’s not like—”

  “Shush.” He kissed her feet and toes. “I was tested a few months ago. I’m clean. And you?”

  “My physical was last month. I’m negative, too.”

  “Tonight, I won’t come on your tongue. I’ll come inside you.” He held her legs and arched above her.

  “What?”

  “Gonna fill you good, baby girl.” His dick rested at her folds, asking permission to come in and unite.

  “I’ve never—” She pressed her palms against his torso. Taddy wanted to talk about this.

  “Then we’ll use condoms. I’ll do whatever makes you comfortable.” He reached down to his slacks on the floor and pulled out a foil packet.

  “No condom means we’re exclusive.” She sat up, looking at him, not sure if he understood what it meant for her. This was New York City, for crying out loud.

  “I want monogamy, Taddy.” He confirmed huskily. “We’re right together. I’ve never felt more certain about anything in my entire life.” Warner rolled the condom over his erection and pressed down on the tip.

  She fell back on the pillows. I love him. I love him. I love him. “I feel the same way about you. You’re the person I’ve always dreamt of.”

  He smiled and held her legs over his shoulders as he slid in. “My love for you is going to grow more and more over time.”

  Panting, she reached under her and pulled his cock out.

  Confusion etched lines across his face.

  She ripped the condom off and laid back down. “I want you.” On her back, she tucked her hips, allowing his raw dick to rest against her slit.

  “Taddy…” Warner didn’t pull away, but he didn’t push himself in farther, either.

  She felt his dick where she’d left it. It was her call. He seemed to be fighting the urge to ram her
. Taddy could tell. “Quite a gentleman you are, Warner Truman.” Her body moved closer as she shimmied.

  Warner stayed arched on his knees, holding her legs up. “I always knew you’d be the aggressive one.” He swung her ankles out to the right, leaned over her, and kissed her. “You sure you want to go bare?”

  Legs pressed to the left, she gazed at her lover. His arms were flexed, holding her tight. He was ready. Warner cared. “More than anything, Big Daddy,” she replied as he swung her legs back over his shoulders.

  His eyes closed as he descended inside all the way. So full. She wasn’t able to control the tremors building inside. Every follicle on her skin felt alive, and her body spasmed.

  Her Big Daddy smiled and opened his eyes again.

  She belonged to him.

  “Red.” He leaned over and pumped into her. “No crying tonight, promise?”

  “Swear.” She smiled, getting into it, hoisting herself by his shoulders and kissing him. Taddy thought for a brief second about Irma and elected to put off telling him about her family until morning.

  “So beautiful.” Warner lay next to her. “This is better. I can kiss you and talk to you.” He lifted her left leg over his right shoulder and slid his cock in. “I forgot you don’t like to talk during sex.”

  “I do now. You can say whatever you want to me,” Taddy admitted. “Last time, I shoved my tits in your mouth. This time, I’ll suck on my own.” She tugged slightly at her right nipple.

  Warner pumped under her, his face close to a howl. Extending her tongue, she licked her breasts. “I’ve never…”

  “My centerfold pictures don’t do me justice.” She licked at her other nipple.

  “Such a tease.” He pounded her at rapid speed, stimulating her for a second time.

  “You’re tearing me apart.” Taddy held on to his shoulders and kept her eyes focused on him, like he wanted.

  “Go with it, honey. Go with it.” He slowly pulled out then back in again.

  “I am.” Her body burned again. “I’m coming again.” Not easing up, he drove in deeper.

  “Me, too. I’m coming. Aaah!” His neck muscles knotted and his eyes dilated. “Love coming the same time as you.”

  She massaged his chest while he filled her with his hot seed.

  He kissed her as he released inside her. A pillow caught him as he fell back and stretched out. Warner was asleep within a few minutes. The lights from Park Avenue danced over his muscles as his body’s heat kept her warm.

  Taddy lay on his chest, feeling loved. She’d waited her whole life to have him. He was hers. Hot tears poured from her eyes. It was what Kiki referred to as crying because one was happy.

  In the morning, she woke to him staring at her. But that joy of having him with her only lasted for a brief second. She remembered as much as she felt her stomach twist that she’d be seeing Irma soon.

  “What is it?”

  “I have to visit my mother in a little bit.”

  “I thought you two didn’t speak.”

  “We don’t.”

  “When’s the last time you saw her?” Warner’s forehead creased.

  “Ages ago.”

  “Man.” Warner’s face sank.

  “I haven’t heard a peep in years.”

  Speechless, Warner’s mouth hung open. He licked his lips and blinked. “I’m going with you.”

  “No. I’m tempted to cancel, but I’ll go. I can’t imagine what she wants. Maybe an epiphany came over her and she desires redemption.” Taddy wasn’t sure if she’d take her parents back in her life. Her mind played various scenarios in her head, one being illness. Another, salvation. Then, the true identity of her real birth father. Nothing stood out as to why Irma would initiate this meeting otherwise. “Let’s meet up afterward. This is a lot to dump on a guy I just met.”

  “I’m not ‘some guy’. I’m your Big Daddy. I can handle it.” Warner remained supportive.

  “Thank you. To be honest, I’d feel better if you came, too.” Taddy admitted her needs for the first time to a man. To her surprise, she didn’t feel as weak as she thought she would. She actually felt stronger.

  “What time are you meeting her?”

  “Ten.” Two hours until show time.

  “Where does she live?”

  “Central Park West.”

  Warner nuzzled her nose and kissed her. “Let me make you breakfast and then we’ll head over. You need to eat. I’m afraid you’ll pass out if you don’t.”

  “You can cook?”

  He got out of bed, bragging, “I make delicious eggs Benedict.”

  Thank you, Jesus.

  A Daughter’s Good-bye

  José had driven alongside 79th Street through Central Park to her parents’ building while anxiety cooled Taddy’s thoughts. The Brillfords resided in the San Remo, a twenty-seven-story luxury high-rise, home to Manhattan’s elite. Staffed with servants and guards, the building was primed for celebrities who sought privacy in the Big Apple.

  The summer Taddy’s bastard child rumors had circulated, she’d overheard San Remo’s doorman discussing Irma’s past affair. They’d mentioned she’d fallen in love with another man in the building. Notable residents at the time included Steven Spielberg, Bruce Willis, and music band U2’s lead singer Bono. She’d created a birthfather list in her head, but conceded that no one could replace her dad, Joseph Graf. Maybe he couldn’t love her as his own, but she’d always loved him.

  Taddy glanced out the Cadillac’s window, feeling Warner resting his face against the back of her neck.

  “You okay?”

  “I hope to be.” She turned to look at him and kissed his cheek. Then she sat forward to talk to her driver. “José, this is it.”

  José pulled up front, parked the SUV, and opened the door for her and Warner. “Good luck, Miss Brill.”

  “Thank you. I’ll call when we’re leaving for you to come back around.” Drawing her sunglasses up into her hair, she noticed Warner staring at her. He was worried.

  “Come here.” He hugged her and whispered in her ear, “I’ll help you through this, as much as you want me to.”

  “I can lean on you?” she asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Any final advice before we go in?”

  “Listen to what your mother has to say. Focus on what she says.”

  “I intend to.”

  “We can leave whenever you’re ready.” His arms cinched around her waist, pulling her tight.

  Having a guy with her for emotional support was new for her. It felt pretty damn good. Taddy hoped to get used to having Warner at her side. He gave the doorman their names, and he buzzed them up.

  When the elevator doors opened, Taddy smelled a familiar cleansing agent the maids wiped the walls with. Built in the 1930s with mediocre ventilation, tea tree oil was used to keep the building fresh. She stared at the double doors for a minute. The sign read, “26EFG.” The cooperative occupied three units. Half in eagerness, half in terror, she rang the bell. Her pulse throbbed as childhood memories came back to her.

  Taddy did her best to drop the self-preserving defenses she’d used in the past so she could remain open to whatever her mother wanted to talk to her about. Standing in that building felt awkward but she had missed her home. How could they have let so much time elapse? Why had they done this? Maybe soon she’d have the answers she finally longed for. And maybe then the hole she’d felt in her heart would finally be filled.

  When she rang the doorbell a second time, she could hear the chimes on the other side echoing through the penthouse. The door opened and, to her surprise, Mr. Constance wasn’t the one to greet them.

  Countess Irma stood before her.

  Irma must’ve been about five-foot-two. Her mother’s fingers fluttered around her collarbone as if she was uncertain whether she should offer a hug or a handshake. “Tabitha Adelaide…” She put her arms out for an embrace, as much as she could. Taddy felt it was cold and lacking, but it was a start.


  Her mother wasn’t as she’d imagined. Irma barely resembled the woman Taddy remembered. Somehow, she’d shrunk. Irma was flat-chested, her body frail and her face sunken. Her black eyes had hollowed, reflecting her emptiness.

  Obviously, Irma didn’t subscribe to the cosmetic surgical maintenance procedures Birdie used to keep up. Sure, Irma wore designer clothes, certainly that season’s Escada. Her makeup was caked into a mask, a perfect illusion. But underneath her overpriced clothes and titanium dioxide face were many imperfections. Nothing a beauty day could fix or cover. Her pain felt palpable to Taddy.

  Unsure what to call her, Taddy said, “Mom, this is Warner.”

  A soft gasp escaped from Irma’s lips.

  Taddy deflected any attention from herself. She wasn’t comfortable with her mother looking her up and down. Everything suddenly felt even more awkward.

  Warner and her mother shook hands.

  Irma escorted them into the front living room.

  She wasn’t surprised to see the home was decorated much like a showroom. It was cold and sterile and didn’t reflect any warmth. Everything was just to impress those looking in from the outside. There were no pictures from her childhood. Nothing in the home spoke of family, not the kind she once knew. She wondered if they’d been happy before Irma’s affair began.

  “Where’s Dad?”

  “Germany. Joseph’s speaking at a conference for work in Heidelberg.”

  “Did you tell him you invited me here?”

  “No.”

  They sat in silence. Irma pushed a teapot forward, a china pattern that reflected a delicate gold tree branch. Taddy couldn’t take her eyes off it. She remembered the service set from her childhood. The bone china had yellowed in places it shouldn’t. Taddy hugged her Birkin bag, putting distance between them.

  “You okay?” Warner whispered in her ear, wrapping a protective arm around her shoulders. She nodded.

  Irma poured them each a cup. “I caught you on the news. You’ve grown into such a beauty, Tabitha Adelaide.”

  “I’ll be thirty before I know it.”

  “Where does Taddy’s middle name come from?” Warner asked.

  “Her middle name came from a friend in the building. A Texas natural gas heiress named Adelaide de Menil.”