Damn –she thinks I need a hospital? I must have really overdone it this time if I look that bad. “No, babe,” I hear Lillian say, “He’ll be fine. Just help me watch him, would you? I need a shower. He threw up on my shoes in the car.”
Oops. I threw up on her shoes? Babe? Is this Lillian’s wife? I knew she was a lesbian, and she had shown me a picture in her office once… but I can’t remember what the woman in the photograph had looked like. “Who are you?” I ask, and I can hear how stupid I sound.
“Call me Daisy, cutie.” She says.
“Knock it off,” Lillian warns, “Just watch him so I can go shower, damn!”
“Don’t take it out on me, all right?” Daisy says and plops down next to me on the couch. Lillian disappears, and I’m alone with my lawyer’s wife.
I try to start a conversation with her, but I am not making any sense. She laughs like she thinks I am an absolute idiot. I think I must be to have gotten this drunk –and why the hell did I call my lawyer of all people to come pick me up? Why not Éclair? Why not Eddie… oh, yeah, fuck I’m so drunk! Daisy gently nudges me, and I swat at her like she’s a fly. “Fuck off!” I warn.
Daisy suddenly starts playing with my hair. Is she flirting with me? Maybe she’s bisexual? Surely she is not flirting with me and it’s that I’m just too drunk to tell what’s going on? “What’s wrong? Rough day?” She teases.
I hate drunk me. Drunk me is a little bitch. I have various levels of drunk. First stage is happy. Second stage is still happy but is past the hugging stage and more of the happy so long as no one fucks with me stage. Third stage is really goofy and stupid and thinks that getting on eBay to order random shit for sober me to figure out would be hilarious; this is also the stage where I can either be your best friend or beat the shit out of you if you piss me off. Then there is stage four –so drunk that I become an emotional sack of a man. I rarely get to stage four. I start blubbering like an idiot in front of this complete stranger. I know she can’t even understand what I’m saying, hell, I can’t even understand what I’m saying. I know I’m talking about Eddie. She looks at me with these big puppy-dog eyes, “You poor thing,” she says, “You must be James. Lillian told me about you and your situation. Damn, you’ve got it rough all right, don’t you, big guy?”
Well isn’t she just sweet? This is my rock bottom –crying my ass off on a couch at my lawyer’s house to her lesbian wife while I throw up in a small trash can. I definitely have never sunk this low before. I suddenly smell coffee, and Daisy is taking the trash can away from me and handing me a cup of black coffee. “Thanks,” I say, and she smiles at me.
“Well, well, well,” she says, “that actually sounded like English. Feeling a little better, are we?”
The room is still spinning, but I can at least focus enough to look at her now. I hear Lillian’s voice again. “Thank God,” she says, “I thought I would never get that smell off me. Freaking dumbass.” I turn and see Lillian coming out of a bedroom with a towel in her hair wearing a robe. I must have blacked out at some point because I feel as though she had just walked back to the bathroom to shower. You don’t do a quick rinse when someone throws up on you. You scrub.
“Leave him alone, Lilly, the poor guy is depressed.”
I suddenly start laughing. Like hard. Really hard. Oh my God, make it stop… I can’t stop. Lillian crosses her arms and shoots me this really pissed off face, “What’s so funny all of a sudden, you little bitch? I could hear you crying over my shower head.”
“Your names are fucking Lilly and Daisy!” I laugh. Oh my God, James, stop talking. I can’t. “You’re both named after flowers. That’s the gayest most lesbian thing I’ve ever heard!” Oh for the love of God, why am I still talking?
Lillian does not look amused, but Daisy is laughing right along with me. “Lilly, he’s funny drunk.” She says playfully and puts her hands on my shoulders. I think she’s rubbing my shoulders. Is she rubbing my shoulders? Yes, she is definitely doing that.
I hear Lillian say, “Don’t even fucking think about it.”
Think about what? God, I’m so drunk. “Come on, Lillian, you know I’ve always wanted to-” Daisy sings her response.
“He’s a client, Daisy.” Lillian snaps. “And he smells like puke.”
Suddenly Daisy is not beside me anymore. I think I keep missing chunks of the evening because I don’t remember her ever getting up to leave my side. I can hear the two of them arguing about me in the kitchen. Lillian pours herself a glass of wine, and suddenly I’m in the bathtub with Daisy hosing me off. I don’t remember getting in here. Damn it, how drunk am I? I blame it on the margaritas… and the scotch… and the beer… and myself…
Is she washing my hair? Yup.
Daisy is a little flirt. It’s hard to believe she is with someone as professional as Lillian. They probably balance each other out. “Feeling better?” she asks as she lathers my back and arms with soap. This is really embarrassing. Did I really throw up on myself enough to where she felt that I need a bubble bath?
The next thing I know she’s helping me stand. I have to hold onto her shoulders to get out of the tub without falling over. She wraps a towel around my waist and slowly leads me out of the bathroom saying, “We got your clothes in the wash. Unfortunately, we don’t exactly have any men’s clothes lying around, so I hope the towel is okay.” She giggles.
We enter into the bedroom, and there is Lillian in nothing but this silky robe. She has a glass of wine in her hand. I notice Daisy give her these pleading eyes. Lillian looks at us from across the room, sighs, and puts down her wine. “James… just how drunk are you right now?”
I just shrug my shoulders and say, “Notso drunkthatI can’t f—figure outwhat your w-wife wantssss to do.” My words slur together, but I can tell Lillian knew what I said.
She crosses her arms and looks directly at me, ignoring Daisy who is biting her bottom lip with excitement. Lillian lets loose a long sigh, “And what is it you want to do, James?”
“Fuck it,” I say, “I’mmmm drunk as hell, b-but I’m fuckin game.”
44
Daisy helps me over to the bed, and I practically fall into Lillian. Lillian grabs me under the chin with her sharply manicured nails, “You’re not going to fire me tomorrow for this, are you, playboy?” I do one of those awkward drunk laughs and then lean in for a kiss. She holds me back for a second, “Damn it, Daisy, whose toothbrush did you use to brush his teeth?”
“Relax,” I hear Daisy say from behind me, “I just gave him some mouthwash.” I hear Daisy’s clothes dropping around her, but I’m still focused on Lillian. When did I gargle mouthwash? I lick my teeth, and I can taste the minty freshness. Well, at least I don’t have to worry about my alcohol and vomit breath if we’re going to do this.
“Fine,” Lillian says and then gives in. She lets me kiss her. I’m having to hold onto her to keep myself upright, and I can tell she is annoyed by that. I make a grab at her robe, and I cause it to droop down off her shoulders. She and her wife are both very attractive women. I can tell right off the bat that Lillian is not even remotely excited about this and is just doing this because Daisy wants to. My hope is that I can change her attitude. I pull on her robe until it falls down to reveal her breasts. I lean forward and put my mouth on one of her tits.
“Lilly, that’s so hot.” I hear Daisy say as she grabs my towel and yanks it off of me.
Lillian mumbles something under her breath and suddenly hops up. “I need more wine if we’re going to do this.” She grabs the glass by her bedside and downs the rest of it.
While she is doing that, Daisy pulls me down onto my back in the center of bed. I get an eyeful. She has completely stripped down –and holy hell. I forget all about Lillian as Daisy crawls around on me, kissing me and teasing me with her lips and breasts. I wish I was just a little soberer than I am, but then again if I was I wonder if Daisy could have talked Lillian into doing this at all. She is probably hoping that I am going to blac
k out and forget all of this come morning. There is a good chance of that happening.
“I can’t believe this shit is turning you on,” I hear Lillian say as she pours herself another glass.
“Stop ruining it.” Daisy snaps, “Come on, this is supposed to be fun.”
I’m not going to get in the middle of their marital dispute, so I just pretend I don’t hear it and reach my hands up to touch Daisy’s breasts. I hear a jealous grunt erupt from Lillian, and she decides to crawl into bed with us after swigging straight from the bottle.
This is like one of those fantasies you have in college but you drop it after realizing it’s never going to happen, yet here I am. Lillian lazily curls up next to me and starts to nibble at my ear and wrap her arms around my neck while Daisy acts a lot more venturous, licking me and stroking just about every part of my body. Suddenly I hear Lillian let loose a loud cackle, “He’s too drunk to get it up!”
Fuck no!
There is no way I am not letting this happen. “Give me a minute; I’m really drunk,” I snap at her.
“Quit being so mean, Lilly!” Daisy snaps, “He’s had a hard time lately.”
“Not being hard is the problem,” Lillian jokes.
Fuck her. As soon as I am ready to go, I’m plowing her brains out. “Hold on,” Daisy says and disappears beneath the blankets. She plops my less than ready dick in her mouth, and I go hard as soon as she strokes me with that tongue of hers.
I groan loudly. I go to reach down to touch Daisy, but Lillian suddenly stops me. She grabs my hands and puts them to her breasts. “I’m here too, remember?” Lillian says, clearly the alcohol is finally getting to her. She kisses my face and lets me touch her breasts while Daisy stays below the belt. I reach around Lillian’s waist and feel for her pussy, surprised to find that she is actually wet.
Daisy releases me and suddenly pops her head up. I am distracted with Lillian now, so I roll over on top of her and pen her to her back before pressing my now incredibly hard cock into her. Suddenly it becomes about Lillian as Daisy rolls beside us to give her kisses and play with her breasts. “Oh God….” I hear Lillian say, her voice slightly muffled by Daisy’s hard kisses. I lock eyes with Lillian while Daisy is down licking her wife’s breasts, and she does this awkward nod towards Daisy, silently telling me she wants me on Daisy. It’s pretty obvious this is supposed to be about Daisy.
I pull out of Lillian and bounce on Daisy, and the younger woman squeals excitedly. Somehow we wound up scooting down several feet, so there is a bit of room at the headboard, which is where Lillian makes her way to. She grabs Daisy by her wrists and pens her arms above her head, and the slight restraint makes Daisy all the more excited as Lillian kisses her and I go in and out of her as fast and as hard I am able. I put one hand on one of Daisy’s breasts to keep myself balanced, and then Lillian reaches down and helps to spread Daisy’s legs apart; Lillian even takes time to kiss on me some while her head is down towards me.
Between the two of us, we really get Daisy going. She starts screaming, and my drunk self can’t hold out much longer.
I blackout at some point, and I wake up the next morning with the worst hangover I have ever had with Daisy hanging all over me and Lillian wearing a look that is as full of as much disgust and shame as mine.
45
Lillian and I wind up seated on her couch, both of us with ice packs on our heads as Daisy quietly makes us breakfast and some coffee. We try not to look at each other. After a few minutes alone on the couch, Lillian says, “I will literally pay to never repeat what happened last night to anyone.”
I groan painfully, squinting and wishing that their apartment was just a little bit dimmer, “I will pay you if you can tell me exactly what happened. I can only remember bits and pieces.”
“I can’t believe I chugged half a bottle of wine.” Lillian grumbles, “I can’t believe I had sex with you.”
Daisy is walking on air. She prances out of the kitchen on her tiptoes, trying to be as quiet as possible for us, and places a plate of homemade pancakes in front of us. “Thanks,” I grumble.
“Maybe next time you two will try it sober,” Daisy giggles and Lillian and I simultaneously flick her off with the hands not holding onto ice packs.
“There is so not going to be a next time.” Lillian says, “I’m through with your stupid fantasy games.”
Daisy just giggles; she is clearly walking on a sexual satisfaction high right now. Suddenly I hear a phone going off, and both Lillian and I moan loudly. “Find it.” I say sternly, “Dear God, shut it off!”
Daisy scrambles to find a cell phone. I’m wearing a fucking pink robe because they failed to put my clothes in the dryer last night, so I’m waiting around for my pants. “It’s James’s. We put a pile of his stuff over on the counter in the kitchen,” Lillian says weakly.
Daisy answers my phone for me. “Hello? I’m sorry, no, this is not Eddie… this is his brother’s phone…. You don’t have his brother’s number? Are you sure, because-”
Shit. I wave Daisy over, “I forgot I had Eddie’s phone with me. Bring it here.”
Daisy hurries over. She has a concerned look on her face, “He sounds messed up.” She hands me the phone.
“Hello?” I question.
“I’mma at the, uh, the summer house…” it sounds like a young man, and he sounds high or stoned or something. “I c-can’t go back to jail, man.”
I sit upright, “Who the hell is this?”
“Eddie, it’s me. It’s Nick. Please, Eddie, I need you.” The guy sounds like he is on a bad trip or something.
“Listen,” I say firmly, “This is Eddie’s brother James. Who are you? Are you okay?”
There is a long pause. “I’mma at the, uh, the summer house…”
Shit. This is the drug addict. Eddie has actually told me a little about this one. He is homeless, so he stays in Eddie’s summer house all the time. I know what Eddie would want me to do. I’m so hungover that I might still be drunk, but I can’t just pretend I didn’t get this phone call. “Listen to me.” I say firmly, “Do you need me to call an ambulance?”
“No!” the guy practically screams, “I need Eddie!”
I am definitely not telling him that Eddie is hurt; he’s obviously not in a condition to hear about him, and the summer house is a good distance away. “Okay, okay,” I say, “Listen, I’m on my way. Do me a favor and go sit on the couch in the den, okay? I’ll be there as soon as I can get there, okay?”
“Thank you, Eddie, thank you.” He says and hangs up the phone.
He is so messed up. “I got to go.” I tell the two women, and Lillian just groans a response.
“You shouldn’t drive.” Daisy says.
“I’m going to call my driver,” I say as I go fetch my partially dried clothes out of the dryer, “But I have to go.”
I’m sure I’m going to regret going to see what this guy is freaking out about, but I go anyways. He’s probably having a bad trip or something. I have my driver pick me up, and we head out of state lines. It’s a long drive to Eddie’s summer house. It takes hours, and I can tell my driver is annoyed. Lucky for him, though, I did manage to get paychecks sent out to my employees finally.
By the time we finally arrive at the summer home it’s almost three in the afternoon, and thankfully my borderline demonic hangover is finally letting up. I tell the driver to circle around; a part of me doubt the guy is even still here. The front door is unlocked, so I don’t have to search for the little fake rock in the cobblestone next to the porch that Eddie keeps a key hidden in. A terrible idea, really. Even though this place floods all the time, it’s still full of valuables that Eddie practically just leaves out in the open for people to steal. And having a crack head for a brother stay there all the time just adds to the chances of something getting stolen.
I enter inside, and I immediately spot someone lying on the couch. As I come closer, my stomach drops in horror. It’s a kid.
I should hav
e called an ambulance. I dart over next to him and try to wake him up, but he’s not moving. “Nick, hey! Nick, can you hear me?” I shake him, but he is unresponsive. I take a second to dart out into the yard and wave down my driver; I tell him to call 911 to tell them that there is a kid who’s overdosed at the cabin. While Leo is on the phone, I dart back inside to where the kid is still lying passed out on the couch. From the heavy bags under his eyes and the bright red streaks on his arms, I can tell he is a heavy user.
My heart is racing. I wind up pulling the kid down onto the floor after realizing he does not have a pulse. Eddie made me take a CPR class in preparation for our gym opening as a sort of PR stunt, so I’m thanking him now. By what could only be divine intervention, I somehow manage to get a pulse out of the kid. He’s still unconscious, and he’s just barely breathing by the time paramedics arrive. I can’t believe I didn’t call an ambulance the moment I talked to this kid on the phone. It takes some convincing, but the paramedics let me ride with Nick to the hospital. Seeing as how every single guy in that ambulance knows this kids name, I am guessing he’s lived through something like this before. I’m hoping he can do it again.
46
I am pacing in the hallway of this borderline boondock hospital out in the middle of nowhere, and it’s not really helping to calm my nerves. Eddie never told me any of his siblings were just kids; I never really showed an interest in knowing anything about them, though. I had not expected to see this young teen passed out in the summer house. After a few hours, a doctor comes out into the waiting room and approaches me. “So you are Nicks…what exactly?” the doctor asks me.
I’m honest with the guy. He apparently knows Eddie, so the situation is easy to explain. I tell him what’s going on with Eddie, and the man shakes his head. “Eddie is Nick’s legal guardian,” he begins, and my head starts swimming. Eddie never told me. It’s apparently a fairly new arrangement. Nick was supposed to be moving to LA this summer to stay with Eddie, but he was currently still staying with some foster family who in recent days, according to what Nick told the doctor, had had enough of him.
Filthy Desires: A Romantic Suspense Collection Page 66