"Right." Even though this isn't a video chat, I can see the smirk painted on her face. I just want to strangle her.
"Is your sister able to walk?" I abruptly change subjects.
"Oh, err...” I caught her off guard. Good. “After several hours of physiotherapy, she can walk on her own now. It's been quite difficult on her husband."
"I can imagine," I sympathize. I may not like Abigail or respect her, but I'm not a monster. I do have empathy. From Abigail's recounts, Maude went through hell and back.
"I can't tell you how grateful I am that God prevailed.”
Abigail’s sister, Maude moved to Munich with her second husband, Milo Wallis, a couple of years ago. Maude is a prenatal nurse and to this day it’s still unclear what her husband does. Abigail has been in Germany helping her sister recover from her injuries. Four weeks ago during the evening rush hour, Maude was smack in the middle of a swarm of people all waiting patiently for the green light to change to cross. She was texting feverishly back and forth with Abigail. Out of the blue, a car smashes straight into the crowd. A drunk driver ran a red light and his car was hit on its side by an oncoming truck. The impact sent the car plowing into the crowd. Maude was one of the lucky ones. Sadly, twenty people were treated for severe injuries.
"That's good," I say.
"Things were frightful after the accident. Even two weeks ago, things were fairly uncertain. The tide has turned for Maude. She's independent again and I can finally come home to my loving husband.”
Interesting comment since Daddy and Abigail haven’t seen each other in a month. Daddy hasn't visited her once in Germany.
"Right."
“Thank God I wasn't alone during this emotional ordeal. Reverend Nesmith has been of immense help,” she says.
“Who?”
"Reverend Rowan Nesmith,” she stresses. As if that’s supposed to help. When I don't respond, she says, "Didn't you read the email?"
"What email?"
"I know you don't go to church much anymore, but I thought you kept in touch with what was happening in your place of worship. Reverend Rowan Nesmith is the new Reverend at Ludlow Abbey. He's completely transformed our congregation. He's revitalized it like never before. He’s only been in this new position for the last five months and he’s doing a stellar job of it. Service is packed now. Standing room even. Many of us arrive an hour in advance to get a seat. Can you imagine? Young people in our congregation are rediscovering their faith thanks to Reverend Nesmith. The man is a miracle worker."
"I see," I say absentmindedly.
"Honestly, Amelia, you really should come to church with your father and I on Sundays. It would do your soul so much good.”
"I'll keep that in mind," I say, stifling a yawn.
"In any case, my daily hour-long consultations with Reverend Nesmith have been a lifesaver. He's so wise. And so smart. And so caring.” Go Rev., go. She could be his publicist. “He's done an incredible job at uplifting my spirits and instilling hope in me. I don't hold nearly as much anger towards that drunk driver. The Reverend has helped me channel that negative energy into something much more significant.”
“I see,” I repeat.
“Reverend Nesmith is quite tech savvy. He showed me how to do video. Now we have daily video sessions. They’re my lifeline.”
“Ah,” I say in a monotone voice.
"I gravitated immediately towards the Reverend since his first service at Ludlow Abbey. After visiting my sister in the hospital, I really needed someone to talk to. Your father is such a busy man—and of course, his children and the nation come first." Cue the resentment. Abigail loves to drop those digs behind Daddy’s back. Bitch.
"Mmm,” I hum.
"Reverend Nesmith touches my soul. He's truly my spiritual leader," she coos. “Well, let's go back to the reason why I called you in the first place—my big charity event." Let's put an end to this as soon as humanly possible. "Thank God I was able to still keep working on the event while I was here in Munich," she chippers. “Will you still be attending?”
“You had your assistant confirm that four times already with my assistant.” She’s exhausting.
I pace the room, hoping that each step calms me down.
“Brilliant. I have a few young men lined up—” Oh, no, not that again. “Abi—”
My personal mobile rings and Bruno Mars’ latest smash hit blasts from the speakers, filling the room.
"I have another call coming through," I say.
"Oh, but it’s—” I press my officer’s phone against my chest essentially cutting off the pestering woman on the other end.
I can’t help but bob my head to the catchy song as I stride across the room to Officer Roderick’s amusement. I don’t know who’s trying to reach me, but I thank God for them.
I pick up my phone from the coffee table and when I notice the name flashing back at me, I grin wide.
“I’m just ending another call,” I say once I accept the call. “Can I call you right back?” I drop my phone back on the table and focus on the other one I’m still holding onto. “Abigail, I have to go. This is a very important call.”
“You’re too ambitious.” Fuck off. I can see her shaking her head with a smirking smile stretched across her collagen-injected lips.
“Right. I’ll see you at the charity event.”
“Oh, we haven’t talked about those young men—”
She's like a dog on a bone. “I really have to go,” I say, before hanging up.
Cheerio and good riddance.
CHAPTER 34
Holden
“You’re working on a Sunday morning?” I ask, striding into the kitchen. Brandon is hunched over his laptop, brow furrowed in concentration.
He looks up and I have to bite off a smile not to laugh at his pillow hair. "Well, good morning to you too," he says. "Where the hell are your manners? Did you leave them in New York?”
I shake my head. "Morning. Happy now?"
"That's better. I think I deserve at least that after living with you for so many years," he says.
"Idiot," I laugh. So does he. “What are you up to?" I ask pointing to his MacBook Pro. "Whatever it is, it looks intense.”
“Just doing a little research,” he says.
“I thought we agreed not to read anything online about Amelia," I remind him.
"That's not what I was doing," he retorts.
"What's so urgent?"
"Not that it's our style, but I don't think the act of throwing our money around would impress Amelia. She was born to it. I'm sure she's rubbed elbows with the most powerful people on this planet. Jewelry? Check. She's got that covered—”
"Where are you going with this, Royal?"
"Hear me out, Viking," he says sternly.
"Fair enough."
"Sharing a woman is complicated when we step out in public." I nod in agreement. "It’s compounded because of who Amelia is. Although, I really like it when the three of us are up here, I think it would be fun to do something different. Since she seems to be a movie buff and she keeps talking about how much she enjoys milking every second of the nice weather, I found a clever way of combining both."
Brandon's comment surprises me. "How long have you been at this?" I ask.
"About an hour. I wasn't sure what I was looking for, so it took me a few searches before I landed on the perfect activity."
"Are you telling me that Brandon Matthew Buckingham is making plans with a woman he hasn't even fucked yet? Hell must’ve frozen over and instead of going for a run, I might end up skating through the streets of London," I chuckle.
My words hit him across the face. "Well..." he pauses. "You have it all wrong."
"Really? Enlighten me, Royal." I throw the ball back in his corner.
It takes him a few seconds before answering. I can see the wheels churning in his head. "We’ll just have to fuck her before we take her out," he says matter-of-factly.
I lose it. "You kill me." He sm
iles wide. "So what's your big idea? And I hope you remembered that her security team will most likely have to tag along."
"I've already accounted for that," he grins proudly. “It's too early for me to get in touch with the organizers so I'm not quite ready to divulge any details yet," he informs me.
"When you are, you know where to find me," I chuckle.
"Fucker,” he throws at me.
“On that note... coffee?”
“Yeah. I was waiting for you.”
"You're a good friend," I joke, patting him on the shoulder.
"Ain’t that the truth," he volleys back.
“I’m impressed, Royal. I'm surprised that not only were you able to make it out of bed, but your brain functions well enough to think this stuff up. I like your idea—whatever it is—of us taking our little princess out."
“Was that a backhanded compliment?” he asks.
I don't answer him immediately. Instead, I take care of coffee first. Once I press the start button of our Nespresso machine, the mental countdown begins in my head. There's nothing quite like that first hit of caffeine in the morning. A few minutes later, I stride back with two piping hot cups of coffee in hand towards the marble kitchen island that witnessed last night's salacious interlude. Brandon waits for me to sit across from him and finally, we both take our first sip in unison.
"Damn, I love waking up like this. Coffee in hand while talking to you," I observe.
"Same here," he smiles. For the next few minutes, we sit unrushed enjoying our coffee until Brandon speaks again.
"You still haven't answered my question," he points out.
“What question?”
“The back-handed compliment. You being impressed.”
"Ah, yeah. I’m surprised you’re even up. When I got back at three o'clock, you were jerking off like an animal."
His blue eyes widen. "How do you even know that?"
"Royal, you were locked up in your bedroom grunting like a caveman and calling out God’s name," I chuckle.
"Was I that loud?"
"I wouldn't be surprised if the concierge downstairs heard you," I laugh.
He shoots me a dubious side-glance. "Seriously?" I nod. "Viking, this is a huge place, I can't believe you were able to hear me.”
"I kind of expected it after what the three of us shared. Had you refrained yourself, then I would’ve been worried. Let's not forget you’re still holding her panties hostage. I’m sure you shot your load all over them unless you were using them to jerk off,” I mock.
“I’m a gentleman. I didn't come all over her precious panties, I simply held them to my nose while my other hand worked my cock. After all, she's coming back tonight to fetch them. I didn't want to soil them. I'd much rather soil her," he offers a devilish grin.
"Thanks for setting me straight."
"Between us, I think I had my jeans unzipped and I was already stroking my cock before you even hit the elevator button."
"You're such a horny bastard," I tease.
"I just couldn't handle it anymore. I was desperate for relief."
“When I got back and heard you growling, it sent me over the edge. I ran into my bedroom and rubbed one out until I thought I was going to pass out. Even though I’d already jerked off while watching you eat her out—twice—I was at it again before going to bed."
"We didn't want to get our hopes up about last night, and I was ready to be perfectly fine with the idea that it would be nothing more than a repeat of Friday night. Nothing could prepare me for what came out of her mouth."
"You and me both," I sympathize.
"I'm going out of my fucking mind. I need to be inside her. I need to fuck her pussy.”
“Jesus, Royal, you look demented,” I laugh.
“That’s because I am.”
I shake my head, flashing back to Brandon's display of carnal gluttony. When Brandon was ravishing Amelia’s pussy, I really didn’t plan on pulling my cock out. I mean, we were barely starting to get to know her. But those goddamn hedonistic mewls of hers made it impossible for me to resist. Once it was my turn to feast on Amelia’s pussy for the second time, Brandon didn’t need any convincing to follow my lead. The main difference was that he was stroking his cock so fast and so hard, he shot a huge load halfway across the deck screaming, ‘Fucking shit’ at least fifty times. It was like a damn projectile. Watching him come like that edged me to the brink of my orgasm, but I had to delay my own gratification because Amelia was my main concern. A few minutes later, Brandon was hard again. Un-fucking-believable.
“After we’d given her four orgasms, I thought I was going to have to restrain you. I swear, I was certain you were going to go for a fifth time."
"I was," he confesses.
“I’ve never seen you this hungry. I'm sure her clit must be numb this morning."
Brandon casts dark eyes on me. “I can’t get enough of her taste," he explains. "I need her in my mouth every night. Heck, I need her in my mouth right now."
“Don't worry. Your wish just might come true. The way we had her screaming her head off, she’ll be banging down our door for more.”
We both laugh.
“Either that or I’ll show up at her door begging her to sit on my face—regardless of the fact she has an officer posted at her door. I’m consumed by the thought of her coming on my face every night." Brandon is starting to worry me. “I never understood how people could go weeks on end without sex, now that I’ve experienced celibacy firsthand, I really don't get it. I'm going stir crazy. I can't think about anything else. I've been walking around with a permanent hard on since she walked into this penthouse last night. By the time I kissed her, I was done for. Everything that happened after that contributed to me feeling like my balls were hurting so bad they were going to fall off." I chuckle. "How do you do it?" he asks. I guess he takes my snicker as a sign of wisdom. Nothing could be further from the truth. "You seem to be so much more levelheaded than I am. Maybe I'm the only one who can't help behave like a horny teenager." Brandon looks almost panicked.
"Don't let the cool exterior fool you." I dispel his erroneous conclusion. "I'm in no better shape than you are. I woke up with my hand fisting my rock-hard boner and dreaming of all three of us together. When I looked down at my cock, large veins were popping and my big shiny red knob was already wet with moisture. After coming all over my hand, I made my way to the bathroom to wash off. It was supposed to be a quick shower. I thought I’d gotten it out of my system. Boy, was I ever wrong.” I pause, raking my hand through my messy hair. “As the water trickled down my body, I could only think of her slender hips, and her perky tits in my hands. I saw myself pumping her tight little pussy until she lost it. Her screams of mercy muffled by your big cock stuffed inside her mouth. I jerked off so hard my legs were shaking after I came. I had to hold on to the wall to avoid collapsing on my knees. It took me forever to catch my breath."
"Fuck," Brandon hisses.
“I really think it's a combination of things. I’m desperate for pussy and she's the sweetest I've had."
"Same here," Brandon commiserates.
“My demise came when I realized she wasn't nearly as innocent as I had pegged her to be," I reveal.
“Exactly," Brandon concedes. "All that talk about porn, a chest filled with sex toys and the vision of her pleasuring herself while thinking of us was more than I could bear."
“Fuck, she must be so gorgeous with her hands between her legs, stroking her needy clit with our names on her lips," I fuel his fantasy. And mine. “I wonder if she licks her fingers after she comes all over them.”
"Damn you, Viking. That’s fucking hot,” Brandon exclaims. When I notice his hands traveling under the counter, I shake my head.
“I still can't believe how wet she was," I say.
"It was ridiculous. When I was eating her out from behind, strings of slickness were dripping from her pussy onto that lounge chair. When she came, I was struggling to lap it all up.”
“I hear you,” I nod.
“I'd give anything to watch her play with herself." The feral lust that veils Brandon's gaze is dangerous. And just like that the ache in my balls returns with a vengeance.
“We should ask her,” I suggest. My strangled voice does little to hide how turned on I am.
“What?”
“Don’t look so surprised, Royal."
“Are you serious?"
"It wouldn't be the first time we ask a woman to do that."
"That may be the case, but Amelia..." Brandon doesn't finish his sentence.
"Amelia what? She isn’t as pure as driven snow. I'm convinced there’s a very naughty vixen hiding inside her. It's our job to seduce it out of her.”
“Hmph.” Brandon hums.
"You don't agree?"
"It's not that. I'm just wondering how I’m going to survive witnessing her in all her glory like that. Maybe we should call 999 and have them on standby downstairs."
"You won't need paramedics. I'm sure you'll do just fine," I chuckle. I pause for a beat as another scene flashes in front of my eyes. "I love how disappointed she was when I told her she couldn't have my cock. The way she was staring up at me with her hungry eyes silently begging me was sinful. You should've seen her face when I came."
“Yeah, those greedy eyes were on me as I tipped over the edge."
"I say we push her," I declare.
Brandon reflects on my suggestion for a few brief seconds. "Let’s do it." He slaps his hand against the marble counter.
CHAPTER 35
Amelia
Thank God Daddy called and interrupted that dreadful conversation with Abigail. I swear that woman gets under my skin.
By the time I got back to him he was on another call with his best friend Grayson and he promised to call me back. Half an hour later, his name flashes across my personal phone.
“Daddy,” I say when I pick up.
“Ladybug!" he matches my tone.
"I can't tell you how happy I am to hear your voice."
“Same here, darling."
"Your timing from earlier couldn't have been more perfect. I owe you big time. One more minute of that rubbish with your wife and I was going to throw myself from the roof of this building."
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