by Xavier Neal
We're not ever going to admit that last line.
“Separation anxiety?” I tease, leaning back in the patio chair.
Kristopher rolls his eyes. “If by separation anxiety you mean the need to share the spotlight with my very rowdy, usually very abrasive younger brother than yes. You have barely made more than a light splash in these past few weeks. Your sudden lack of needing attention has shifted the focus to scrutinizing every, single, detail of my marriage. Are you aware that Soph has been accused of being pregnant three times in the past month? It's stressing her out to the point she won't eat in public.”
The sun lands on the pool water across from me, relocating my attention with it.
Having a balcony connected to your bedroom is one thing, but having a balcony with a private heated pool attached and an outside breakfast nook area directly beside it is another. Do you know how incredible it is to have a morning workout in the pool and then enjoy breakfast naked immediately after? Do you know how amazing it is this is even possible? Another one of the beautiful benefits of playing coy where the media is concerned. They haven't the faintest idea where I really am.
“Kellan,” he states loudly in hopes of regaining my focus. “In our entire lives, you have never been this silent about....anything.”
“I'm not silent. I'm just not shouting it from the rooftops.”
“Like I said. Silent...”
“Has it ever occurred to you that perhaps I'm not quite ready to have my relationship potentially ruined by the media?”
“No.”
His quick answer forces me to scowl.
“You love the attention!” Kris throws a hand in the air. “You love the praise. You love the negative reinforcement of your wild behavior. You've been steadily on a war path to let no one forget the Kenningston name since mum died.” He readjusts himself in his seat and leans forward. “You don't just stop being who you've always been because some woman let you see her naked for an extended period of time.”
My eyes suddenly catch a glimpse of the topic of our discussion moving my direction. Unable to resist watching her movements, I let my head fall to the side as I admire the curves I would give up the Kenningston name for without question. The smoothness of her coffee colored complexion. The lightness in her steps because burdens seem non-existent when we're together.
“None of that has changed,” I mutter, attention still plastered on the minx that is approaching the doorway. “Just because the world has a harder time documenting my fun doesn't mean I'm not having any.”
Brie leans her naked frame against the wall right on the other side of the sliding door.
By the way, fun fact, anyone who owns a penthouse walks around naked knowing no one else can catch a glimpse. Well, probably can't catch a glimpse.
Desperate to have her in my lap rather than continue to hear my brother complain, I prepare to end the conversation when she shakes her head slowly and makes a hand motion to continue talking.
Without hesitation, I glance back his direction, and state. “Change the subject.”
“But-”
“Now.”
His eyebrows lift in question only to receive a stern expression in return. Sensing the reasoning why, he says, “Brunch was rather uneventful.”
The choice in topic hardens my face. Before I have a chance to inform him how I don't care who is potentially sleeping with who to keep the so-called peace between worlds, Brie’s movements begin again except this time in an unexpected fashion. She slowly drags one finger down her chest taking my eyes helplessly with it.
“There was one particular moment you might find hysterical...”
Her finger slips between her thighs and sinks into the depths that I claimed as only my own. I prepare to command her to stop when she winks, drops her bottom jaw, and releases a silent moan.
She's purposely fucking with me...while I'm on a call with my brother.
“Are you even listening?” Kristopher huffs when he notices I'm not.
Brie's movements cease and her eyes encourage me to continue the conversation.
“Yes,” I lie readjusting the computer screen to make it less obvious he's become a prop in a sexual rouse. “You were rambling on about Sir Conan Ledger and deviled eggs and his poorly glued on toupee.”
Both people now pleased, they each return to their very different tasks. Kristopher begins the story again while I pretend to stare on with complete focus. The fact he is unaware what is happening on the other side of the screen stiffens my already hard cock to the point of painful. I fold my hands in front of me to block any possible proof my attention is elsewhere. Brie moves her hand slightly faster than she was before and lets her head hit the wall. My eyes, which are struggling to keep their attention split, pendulate aimlessly between the expression on her face and actions of her hand.
“Hysterical, right?”
I offer him a forced chuckle with my nod.
Brie winks, bites her bottom lip, and rocks her hand faster, an orgasm clearly in her sights.
This conversation has to end soon because the moment she comes, and I mean the moment she comes, I'm going to take her and show her why orgasms from me are always better.
“Speaking of unhappy royalty, father has a request of you.”
Of all the things possible of killing the hard on I'm sporting he offers the one with the highest possibility. My brother is a world class cock block. From an early age, I swear! He's the reason I had to start masturbating only at night time when we were home. Intrusive bastard.
Brie's legs lightly buckle. The sight grabs a growl from me. “Not interested.”
“Please,” Kristopher begins to beg. “You're already in the states.”
“No.”
Her jaw begins to shake stealing my sanity in the process.
“It's just a one night event.”
“No.”
“Kellan,” his voice rises commanding my full attention.
Rather than look completely at him, I gesture my hand to assure him I'm listening.
Which I'm not. Not to him...Not to the bird or cars honking faintly down below. No. The only thing I'm listening to are the muted moans escaping my girlfriend's parted lips.
“Look, it's a few weeks away in New Palsquire. Plenty of time to mentally prepare having to do the family a bloody favor.”
Her free hand suddenly combs through her hair, yanking it as she teeters on the edge of ecstasy.
Fuck, I want to be the one to push her over.
“It's a fundraiser to help feed those starving in third world nations. It's being hosted by Victoria Chasizer, the Marlesqueer born actress who has the huge hard on for hosting Doctenn friendly events in the states. You know the one who is always trying to fuse our countries together. Anyway, it'll mainly be filled with celebrities and other money hungry bastards desperate to show they care about something other than themselves...”
“Father can't be bothered to help fight the increasing homeless child population in his own country, but has no problem throwing cash at a fundraiser that's nothing more than a publicity stunt.” My irritation begins to out rank my arousal. “Bloody hypocrite.”
“Please consider going. It would do well for one of us to be seen there. Plus, if you attend that, he'll probably let you out of the Spring banquet this year for having fulfilled a different social obligation. Besides, they have a silent auction and you'll be allowed to bid on expensive things in his name for a good cause.”
I prepare to snap in complete refusal when the moment I've been waiting for arrives. Brie's beautiful chest starts to heave profusely while she recites my name in restrained repetition. Her cries claw their way through me convincing the hard on that was beginning to waver to stay for the long haul.
With all my attention now on my bleary-eyed love, I mumble, “I'll consider it. I have to go.” My brother's voice starts some sort of retort but it's cut off by the closing of my lap top. A sly smile covers my expression. “Did you enjoy to
rturing me?”
Brie gives me a wide grin. “Did you enjoy being tortured?”
“Not as much as I would've enjoyed you letting me be the one to get you off,” I sigh before adding, “but perhaps we can rearrange that now.”
She shakes her head as she slowly saunters over to me.
I instantly frown. “What do you mean no?”
“I mean,” her voices fills with heat, “let's even the score a bit.”
With a sultry smirk, she lowers herself to her knees in front of me, and glides her hand over my gym shorts.
A blow job on the balcony? What bloke could ever say no to that?
After rearranging my chair to allow her better access, Brie tugs my shorts off and discards them carelessly over her shoulder. The moment my cock is free, her tongue snakes out to lick away the weeping drops her sexy show created. A sharp hiss is proceeded by a long deep sigh while I watch my dick disappear into her eager mouth. Thoughtlessly, my head falls backwards and I gently wind my fingers through her hair for leverage. Brie immediately hums her approval of the action, which only makes my dick swell more. Her tongue relentlessly shifts between bathing my cock like it's a goddamn royal gem and heedlessly sucking like it's the only thing she intends to have for breakfast. The moment she changes tactics to guide my dick deeper down her throat, my fingers twitch to hold her head in place, the new action making me delectably dizzy. My hips continuously roll to feed her sexual starvation until there's a tightening at the base of my balls. At that moment, Brie's fingers dig into my thighs while I anchor her mouth in place, unsure of who's more desperate for a drop to not be spilt. I lazily roll my head back around just in the time to see her swallow the last bit of her reward for a flawless execution.
Trust me when I say absolutely flawless. I've had...Well...It's best not to ask a gentleman just how many blow jobs he's had in his life, but regardless of the number she is by far the best. Head of the class...Oh...Don't be a poor sport. That was clever this time since it was being delivered as a compliment as opposed to a way to ruffle her feathers.
Brie leans back onto her heels. “Scores tied. Now the real fun begins...”
I release a small chortle and wet my lips in anticipation.
The fun began six weeks ago when I was dragged to a terrible art showing only to meet a larger than life struggling art student. The impressive part is it hasn't let up once. It's mind boggling to me that I can have so much endless fun with one person. And not just doing the things I personally enjoy like catching The Robbery, a classic play, at the Mulane Theater downtown, but the things I never saw myself involved in like dart competitions on Tequila Tuesday. Or how I've come to love watching Brie attempt to walk far distances in her heels with Dana, while Brie nearly wets herself from my hatred of listening to her friend’s strange Van Gogh obsession. Then there's the simple things like how she studies in my office while I go over reports or conference calls for the company. I love how even when we're apart, we're still together. There's more fun in 'ordinary' and compromising than anyone let's on. Use this morning’s evening of the scores as another example. Now if you'll excuse me, I have to put more points on the headboard.
Brie
I anxiously rock on my feet as I try to see around the people in line in front of us.
Kellan lightly chuckles. “You can't possibly be that excited.”
Frustrated with my fruitless efforts, I finally give up, and return to waiting. “I can. And I am.”
His hand slides around my waist and he smugly says in my ear, “How about instead of this we do something else that makes you this excited?”
Temptation instantly runs rampant.
I have never had this much sex in my entire life. I've also never been this insatiable before. In two months I went from basically ready to devote my body to a convent to barely being able to walk across campus some days. Complaining? Absolutely not! What woman in her right mind would ever bitch about having a guy exhaust every effort he has every time in bed? Kellan's reputation is iron clad and cockiness well deserved, but let's not mention that to him. I mean never mention that to him.
Wiggling out of his grasp, I shake my head. “No. We can do that after.”
He groans and lets his head fall backwards like a brat beginning a tantrum.
“Hey, I squeezed myself into that backless cocktail dress you bought me to eat a bug and part of Bambi's mother for you earlier this week. The least you can do is indulge my love of art for half an hour.”
Kellan laughs as his head lowers for our eyes to meet. “It was a snail. Not a bug.”
“Snails are bugs.”
“Snails are not bugs. They're in a completely different species class.”
“In America they're bugs.”
They are too!
“They're not bugs in America or any other country for that matter.”
“Whatever,” I mumble and fold my arms across my chest. “Regardless if they're a bug-”
“Which they are not-”
“I ate one for you with snot sauce drizzled on top of it-”
“Pesto-”
“And didn't puke all over your 10,000-dollar suit.”
“Seven.”
His correction receives a glower. “Enduring your food warfare comes at a cost.”
“I thought that was already paid in the back of the limo,” he begins with a smirk. “And then again in the elevator and once more in the doorway of the penthouse.”
He insisted! We were celebrating our two-month anniversary, which should've been done during the weekend but he had to fly back to Fayweather for a family gathering in remembrance of his mother's birthday. According to him, instead of thinking about the day she died every year, they made a habit of celebrating the day the world was blessed with her presence. Kellan explained how it's the one time of year no other obligations matter. After eating her favorite pasta dinner with their father, him and his brother load up with a shit ton of alcohol and disappear to the private cabin in the woods. It's just the two of them and they spend the time getting drunk while reminiscing about her, growing up, and her untimely death. He wouldn't tell me much more about what goes on, but it wasn't hard to gather it was intended to be a secret. A brotherly bond never to be broken.
“Nice try,” I brush off his attempt to bail. “But we're doing this.”
He rolls his eyes at the same time we approach the counter.
A thin, bearded man greets us. “Hello. Welcome to Balloon Bust. Do you have reservations?”
“You don't think it's odd you have to have reservations to throw paint filled balloons at someone?” Kellan quips under his breath.
I give the man behind the desk my name before quietly snapping back, “You don't think it's odd to wear the price of a new car to the movies?”
My reference to his wardrobe gets a humph. “I enjoy expensive clothing.”
Looking up sweetly as the man swipes my card, I coo, “And I enjoy ruining it.”
“Here you are,” the man states loudly to grab our attention. I slip the card in the back pocket of my jeans. “You're going to go to the left where you'll find Wendy, you're guide and referee waiting for you.”
After we politely thank him, Kellan questions, “Referee? Is this a competition?”
“Against each other,” I hum. “One you're going to lose.”
“Lose? Love, you get winded during a popcorn catching session. There's no way you're going to beat me regardless of the sport.”
My body halts halfway to the bubbly blonde waiting at the double doors. “Care to bet on that?”
He cocks an eyebrow of intrigue. “A wager? That might make this more fun....”
“Winner picks dinner.”
“That's it?”
“And loser has to serve the winner dessert...naked.”
Kellan grins wide. “You know I can't resist you naked.”
“Don't worry...” I give his chest a condescending pat. “You won't have to.”
Okay s
o he may be a little...er...fine, a lot more athletic than me, thanks to the 90 minutes he puts into the gym almost every day, but he has no idea what he's getting himself into and more importantly I have an advantage. I don't mind being covered in paint. He will. He'll go out of his way to stay protected, trapping him like an animal. I've got a plan. Believe in me! Go Team America!
“You're rallying American war cries in your head, aren't you?”
I thought these conversations were private.
The two of us finish our path to our guide. Immediately, she bounces with joy in place. “Hello! My name is Wendy! I'll be your guide and ref today. Have you ever been to Balloon Bust before?”