by Vivian Wood
“So now what?”
“He, uh, well he met someone right after. Sam. They’re engaged now, and Sam’s already pregnant. Surprisingly, the whole shotgun wedding thing isn’t nearly as taboo as I thought it would be. I think our dad’s just happy Connor’s settling down.”
“What’s Sam like?”
“I don’t really know her, but she seems nice. Gorgeous,” he said.
Harper didn’t say anything, but he felt a shift in the mood.
“Connor’s thinking of moving here with her, that’s why he’s coming to visit. Talking about opening a security business and Sam would do the marketing.”
“Really?” Harper asked. He heard her steps halt behind him.
“Yeah, why?” he asked as he turned around. A pair of hikers, the first they’d seen, came down the switchback and squeezed by them with awkward “good mornings.”
“I just … it seemed like your family was kind of off-limits for you.”
“My mom and dad are, but my brother’s a good egg,” he said. Sean looked at her closely. “Do you want to meet him.”
She blinked. “Sure,” she said. He suspected the air of confidence was forced.
Sean took her in. “Okay … but if that happens, I think you should know a little bit more. About my childhood. Water?”
She shook her head.
“Let’s keep going. So, I guess you could probably surmise that neglect was a big part of my childhood. My dad was always working. There were weeks where I didn’t see him at all. My mom was busy keeping up the socialite lifestyle—and was drunk most of the time anyway. Some mornings, I’d get up and find her sloppy drunk before ten, screaming at the morning news hosts.”
“God,” Harper said. “And I thought my mom was tough to handle.”
“I remember one time. I must have been six or seven. Mom was hospitalized for something … I’m not sure what. It might have been a tummy tuck, an overdose, I really don’t know. But when she came back, she was more distant than ever.”
“That must have been hard,” she said.
“It fucking pissed me off,” he said. “I can still remember it. And I—stupid—went to my dad, looking for some kind of guidance. But he hired a series of nannies and disappeared. I remember he came back for Christmas though.”
“They divorced?”
Sean gave a short bark of a laugh. “No. Divorce isn’t an option. But they may as well be. But after that, I don’t know. There was some kind of blackness that spread in me. I tried all kinds of things to fill in that void, but nothing worked until I discovered alcohol. I was about eleven.”
“You started drinking at eleven?”
“It’s not like there was anyone around to stop me. Drinking, it made me feel golden … most of the time. Until it almost killed my best friend.”
Suddenly, they were at the top of the canyon. The Hollywood sign shone bright and white in the distance. “Oh, my God,” Harper said.
“Yeah. It’s amazing the beauty you can find, even in a town as vapid as this.” He took her hand and squeezed it as they gazed at the Capitol Records building and the manicured perfection of WeHo’s grid.
“I’m glad to be here. With you,” she said.
He smiled at her and held her closer. “Me, too, sweetheart.”
19
Harper
Sean dropped her off at home, and Molly was languidly sprawled across the front porch with a cigarette. “Meet you there at six?” he said.
“That’s quite early for you.”
“My brother’s an early bird, what can I say?”
“What, uh … what should I wear?” she asked.
He smiled. “Surprise me.”
Molly watched her approach the house. “Nice car,” she said. “So that’s the mysterious bad boy? And what were you up to today?”
“Hiking at Runyon Canyon,” Harper said as she breezed past. She only had a few hours to prepare to “meet the family”—or what little remained of it.
“Sounds … sweaty,” Molly said.
Harper took a quick shower, amazed at how much red dust and grime poured off of her. However, as she stood in front of her closet, nothing seemed right. She tried on everything, from the designer distressed jeans she’d spent an entire paycheck on to the little cocktail dresses she’d promised herself went with everything. Nothing was right.
She groaned and flipped the vanity mirror around to the magnified side. Harper bared her teeth and examined them closely. Were they more yellow than normal? Fuck. She pulled out a Crest whitestrip and pressed the sticky film to her teeth. The more the acid in the vomit chewed away the enamel, the more yellow they got. Pretty soon, I’ll have to get veneers. At least for the front teeth. That would be a whopper of a bill.
As Harper went through her closet a second time, her phone vibrated on the nightstand. “Hey, ladies!” P had messaged on Facebook. An unfamiliar name, Sophia Miller, was included in the chat. “Just introducing you two. Harper’s my bestie and one of the most fab models in the area. Sophia owns a modeling company in New York and she’s looking for someone similar to Helena to take over operations in Manhattan. Just connecting you two.” P ended it with a string of hearts followed by a high heel and lipstick emoji.
Harper accepted Sophie’s pending friend request and sat on the edge of her bed. “Hi Sophie,” she wrote. “I don’t know anyone like Helena, but I’ll definitely keep my ear to the ground for you if anything pops up.”
She stood up to hold the black leather pants against her once more. Maybe these would work. Harper hated the pants because when they worked, they really worked. But there was no give, so it was always a crapshoot if they’d fit right. And if they don’t, you’re going to feel like shit.
Her phone buzzed again. “Hi Harper! Thanks for the quick response. Actually, you’re who I had in mind. Interested in chatting?”
She nearly dropped the phone in shock. Me? Managing models? Harper didn’t think she had nearly the experience. She quickly Googled Sophie Miller and found endless hits. The woman owned one of the most prestigious agencies in Manhattan, specializing in both traditional models and “unique figures and faces.”
“Sure,” she replied. “Just tell me when and where.”
“Providence, Monday at noon okay, sweetheart?”
“I’ll be there,” Harper replied, and plugged it into her calendar. Sophie would change her mind as soon as she saw her, she was sure of it. But networking couldn’t hurt. Hell, nothing could hurt your career any more at this point.
She toyed with the idea of trying on the pants, but chickened out at the last minute. The last thing she needed was a blow to her self-esteem. Instead, she grabbed the staple black halter dress with its low back and plunging neckline. It was safe, sophisticated but sexy.
Harper pulled on her strappy black sandals, grabbed the keys to her trusty Camry, and raced down the hall. “Turning up on a Thursday, huh?” Molly asked.
“Something like that,” she called over her shoulder.
She sprung for valet parking at the Omni, not wanting to test her luck with street parking. Sean was immediately visible in the lobby, a head above everyone else. He looked incredible in the crisp black suit with his hair slicked back.
Harper bit her lip. “Hi,” she said.
“Hi, yourself,” he replied as he eyed her up and down. His gaze lingered at her cleavage.
“Where’s your brother?”
He looked around briefly and pulled her to him, hard and fast. “I can’t wait to get you home, tie you up, and fuck you ‘til you come,” he said in a low growl.
“Sean?” Even if she hadn’t been planning to meet his brother, she could see the resemblance. Although Connor moved faster than Sean, more clipped. The military training was evident. At his side was a stunning brunette with a basketball of a baby bump. The kind of adorable pregnant that most women didn’t manage.
Harper was simultaneously embarrassed and turned on. Sean squeezed her waist as he direc
ted her towards his family. “Harper, this is my brother Connor and his fiancée, Sam,” he said.
“Oh, wow, you’re gorgeous!” Sam said. “Sean said you were a model, but … well, you know it seems like everyone’s a model here. But you’re the real deal.”
“Thanks,” she said, blushing deeper. The only advantage she could see that she had over Sam was height.
“Good to meet the woman, the first woman, who’s been able to handle my brother,” Connor said. He winked at Sean.
“Yeah, well, that’s up for debate,” Harper said.
They laughed as they sat down, and two waiters rushed to pull out the seats for her and Sam.
“So, you’re from here?” Sam asked as she scooted the chair farther back to make room for her belly.
“Kind of. Pasadena.”
Sam smiled. “It’s all the same to me. I’m from the east coast, so as long as it’s southern California, I consider it L.A.”
Harper laughed. “Pretty much. Unless you look at the real estate prices, then that’s where you realize every neighborhood is different. So … when are you due?”
“Three more months,” Sam said. “I’m tired of being pregnant already.”
“Do you know the gender?”
“We could, but decided we’ll keep it a surprise. Old school,” she said.
She noticed both Sean and Connor sat back and let them do most of the talking. That was another similarity, the strong and silent type. Still, they joined in from time to time. Harper was grateful no mention of family drama was brought up. After Sean’s rundown of his family, she’d halfway expected a shit show of a dinner.
Connor ordered lamb arancini for the table, and Sean added on the Hamachi crudo. Decadent entrees came soon after, and the table was covered with braised black cod, cured pork Bolognese, Kurobuta pork chops and seafood bouillabaisse—though Harper pushed aside the bread and nibbled on the low-calorie mussels, clams, crab and shrimp instead.
“Dessert?” the smartly dressed waiter asked. “The Noe specialty is butterscotch pudding with brown sugar brittle and a salted crème fraiche. Although the carrot cake with dulcey ganache, chocolate praline bar and hand-churned ice cream is also fantastic.”
“I can’t eat another bite,” Harper said.
“I’m good,” Sean agree.
“Sam?” Connor asked.
She looked at the table, flushed. “Would anyone share the butterscotch with me?” she asked, embarrassed. “I can’t help it! The baby has a sweet tooth.”
Connor agreed quickly, and Harper made appeasing sounds. Fortunately, when the waiter arrived with four small spoons, she got away with just the tiniest of bites.
After goodbye hugs and a cheek kiss from Sam that didn’t feel remotely phony, Harper and Sean lingered against his car. “They’re nice,” she said.
“You sound surprised.”
“Well, you didn’t exactly set up your family as the stablest of people,” she said.
“True.”
“I know you didn’t ask my opinion, but they seem really solid. If you, you know, have a chance to work with them once they get their business started here? You should consider it.”
He just smiled at her.
“What?” she asked, self-conscious.
He leaned forward and she felt his breath on her neck. “I’m going to fuck the hell out of you when we get to my place. That’s all.”
Harper felt her face flush.
“Get your car,” he said. “I’ll text you the address.”
20
Sean
He had a twinge of doubt as Harper pulled up behind him. What was she going to think, especially after that night in the penthouse? He’d never felt self-conscious about his home before. But then again, he’d never brought anyone to his little apartment before.
“I didn’t realize you lived above the shop!” she said. “And a pizza place. God, I couldn’t handle the incredible aroma all the time.”
“You get used to it,” he said as he led her up the staircase. As usual, the elevators were out of order.
He cleared his throat as he jiggled the key into the lock. Sean opened the door with faux grandiosity. “Here it is. Let me know if you want the grand tour.”
Sean searched her eyes for some sign of disappointment, but there was nothing. “Did you … did you do all this?” she asked, and gestured to the murals that covered every inch of the wall.
“Oh. Yeah. When inspiration strikes, you know …”
“It’s amazing,” she said. “And the books! I didn’t know you were such a bookworm.” He worried that she’d start picking up volumes to flip through them, but Harper kept a respectful distance. She leaned down to read some of the titles, but didn’t touch.
He admired her while she admired his work, going from wall mural to the series of little canvasses he’d propped up near the window. Seeing her there, amidst his modest but most personal possessions, made him want her more than ever before. And in a way unlike ever before.
“Take off your clothes,” he instructed as he locked the deadbolt with a click.
She looked over her shoulder, but didn’t hesitate. With one pull, she untied the halter neck and let the dress fall to the floor. Below, she wore nothing but black satin underwear so miniscule he could see the deep dimples on the crest of her ass from across the room.
“You know the neighbors might see,” he said, and nodded towards the curtain-less windows. The streetlights were on, and surely turned her into a beacon.
“I know,” she said.
He smiled. “You’re being quite obedient, sweetheart.” He released his buckle with a snap as he walked towards her. “Open the window.”
Harper leaned forward and struggled for a moment with the thickly painted frame. He stepped beside her to watch her tits bounce with the effort. As soon as the cool evening breeze sailed through the window, goose bumps riddled her flesh and her nipples hardened. Her stomach seemed gaunter than usual, even after dinner. Was she always this slight?
“Put your hands on the window sill,” he said. She pressed her palms against the sill, and the breeze picked up her long, fiery hair.
Sean moved behind her and spanked her through the satin material, testing her. She let out a small yelp, but held back.
“Do you want me to fuck you?” he asked.
“Yes,” she said.
“Yes, what?”
“Yes, sir,” she said. From where she stood, all anyone passing by had to do was look up and they’d see her in all her naked beauty.
“Then say it,” he said.
“I want you to fuck me.”
“No, say my name. Who do you want inside you.”
“I want Sean to fuck me,” she said lowly.
“My full name. Louder.”
She hesitated. He saw her look up the street. Just half a block away, a group of young men walked briskly down the street, likely to the bar at the end of the block.
He spanked her again, hard. She cried out, but obeyed. “I want Sean Cavanaugh to fuck me,” she said loudly. From over her shoulder, he saw the men look up.
Sean gripped her hair and yanked her head back. “You see those men down there?” he asked. “Tell them you’re for me. You’re my play thing.”
As soon as he released her hair, she repeated his words into the night air—loud and clear. He couldn’t read the men’s expressions, and didn’t care. “You like how badly I treat you, don’t you?” he asked, and pulled her panties down to her knees. Even with the dark fabric, he could see that her wetness had started to pool.
“Yes,” she panted.
“Say you’re my dirty slut,” he said, as he slapped her other cheek with a sharp swat.
“I’m your dirty slut,” she cried out.
“Say you’re here to make me come.”
She repeated his words, yelled them into the night.
“That’s good,” he said. Sean smoothed his palm over her stinging skin. “Don’t hesitate again
when I give you an order. Come here.”
He directed her to the low-slung Japanese-style bed. The headboard featured a row of slats, perfect binding posts. At the foot were two small circular rungs he’d just installed himself.
It took just a few loops and pulls to secure her arms behind her back in a hobble tie. “On your knees,” he directed, and she dropped immediately onto the low mattress.
The hardness inside his jeans was almost unbearable. As soon as he released his cock, he cupped her jaw and she opened her mouth hungrily. “How badly do you want it? How much do you want to suck my cock, you fucking slut?”
“More than anything,” she said. Harper looked up at him, beautifully bound, through those thick lashes.
“You may,” he said. Her tongue circled his tip, and he dropped his head back. This time, when she took him to the back of her throat, it was smooth and easy. She didn’t pause or choke, and he missed those sounds. “I’m going to fuck your mouth,” he told her, and gripped the back of her head.
He was on the edge, but eased her into it. As he got closer, the sounds of her saliva and wild sucking and swallowing got him even harder. He released her head, just for a moment, and Harper gasped for breath. Saliva dripped from the corners of her mouth. “Do you want my come?” he asked. Sean grapsed his length and traced his tip along the edges of her lips.
“Yes, sir,” she said.
“Ask for it. Politely.”
“Please, I want to drink your come,” she said. “I need it.”
“Good girl,” he said. He dove into her mouth and emptied into her with just a few more thrusts. He heard himself give a small cry, the warmth and wetness of her mouth the perfect receptacle for him. As he withdrew, he watched her alabaster throat swallow greedily.
Sean leaned down and untied her wrists. “Lie down,” he said. “Spread eagle.”