I pull out of her and slap her ass for good measure before pulling her red satin dress back down.
The thought of her walking around the party with my essence inside of her is such a turn on. It’s not like I’m going to see her again, but for this night, it’s enough to know that my cum is sliding out of her cunt.
“That was good. You’re very good, Evan. Maybe we could hook up sometime?” she says with a hopeful tone.
“Yeah, maybe,” I say, zipping up.
I fully intend on blowing her off. This is not the kind of woman I want to be seen with. In fact, I kind of like being alone.
I’ve come to realize that no woman out there can fit my high standards, so why try?
Just then, I’m saved by one of my brothers. He couldn’t have shown up at a better time. Ian rounds the corner and sees us pulling ourselves together.
Tiffany looks freshly fucked with bed head and my hot semen dripping down her leg.
“Tiffany, this is my brother, Ian,” I say, making the awkward introduction.
She eyes him up and down, and I can tell that she’s thinking there may be a better brother for her. If I won’t marry or date her, then maybe he will.
Like I said, any Belcourt brother is considered a win.
What she doesn’t know is that Ian is as much of a playboy as I am. We kind of run in the same pack.
Ian takes her hand and kisses it in a show of gallantry. He’s always showing off, and he likes the limelight. Even if he doesn’t mean the gesture, the pure fact that Tiffany is getting off on it makes Ian happy.
“It’s nice to meet you, Tiffany,” he says, and she flushes hot pink.
You see what I mean? She’s still got my seed inside of her, and yet she’s already making it known that she wants my brother.
She’s already angling for a way into his life. That’s not true love. That’s barely even lust.
That is a woman who is more concerned with superficial things and the size of my cock than anything else. And it doesn’t interest me. Since this seems to be the only type of woman I find in NYC, then I guess you can say I’m content with being single.
“Well,” I say, “we should probably be getting back to the party.”
I lead Tiffany around the corner toward the glitz and glamour.
She walks ahead of us, and I have a chance to speak with Ian.
It’s another one of our usual parties, only they seem to get more glamorous every time. Party planners compete against each other as they try to vie for the business of the newly inherited Belcourt brothers.
It’s only been a month since my father has been cremated, and yet the vultures are circling. And here we are, standing in his place, trying to do right by him.
People have come to expect a certain kind of opulence when they visit the Belcourt Estate. My father was known for throwing the best parties within and outside of New York City. And I guess you could say my brothers and I are trying to keep up with the family name.
When I’m not in the city doing business, I’m out here, enjoying certain comforts of the country life. It’s great to escape from it all.
Sometimes, my job as a financial planner can get a little stressful. Working on Wall Street is exciting, but sometimes it’s not all it’s cracked up to be.
That’s why I like to get away from the stress and strain of the city and be here at my father’s estate where things seem to take on a slower pace.
None of that is evident tonight, of course. We have the crème de la crème of New York society here.
The air is buzzing with celebrity sightings and the pure eagerness of having been invited to one of the most exclusive parties this mansion has ever seen.
Everyone who’s anyone is here. The social set: models, businessmen, and women—the usual crowd.
The party planners have brought the glittering life of New York City to the mansion. They’ve transformed the place into a glamorous and over-the-top event.
It feels like a fantasy come true. People are dressed up in their finest as if they’re going to the Met. Ball gowns and tuxedos litter the party, and limousines line the driveway for a full two miles down.
It’s a celebration, for sure. And I’m especially in the mood to celebrate today.
Our father passed away a month ago today, and we’re doing this to commemorate him. There was nothing he loved more than a good party.
I miss him dearly. My brothers and I have also had the surprise fortune of inheriting his entire billion-dollar estate, but I’d rather have more days with him than any of that.
I can make my own money, and I always have. I’m a multimillionaire in my own right. The extra cash doesn’t hurt, but he definitely didn’t owe us anything.
I loved my father—we all did. Though we’re not his children by blood, and even though he married each of our mothers in a grand total of four failed marriages, he was good to us, my brothers and I.
George Belcourt taught me everything I needed to know in life. We had a wonderful father-son relationship.
He taught me how to fish and hunt. He taught me how to take care of myself in the wilderness. He bought me my first tuxedo for prom, my first car, and my college education.
He helped me through the one and only time I’ve fallen in love and had my heart trampled on. And he’s always been the one guy, the one person I can count on in life—and now he’s just…gone.
He’s sorely missed. And this party is kind of in recognition of him and his life. He would’ve wanted us to go on, to continue throwing the glamorous parties that make the Belcourt name known around town.
He would’ve wanted us to enjoy his new fortune and to not get hung up on the details.
I turn toward Ian, and we’re just watching all the people dance and mingle. It’s like every party our father ever hosted out here…except he’s gone.
I know Ian’s thinking this, too. But we’re both also determined to have a little fun.
Chapter 3
Ian
I watch it all go down throughout the day. There’s so much chaos in the house, and I get off on the action.
The party planners pull together everything perfectly. This party better go off without a hitch. We’re paying enough for it.
Money is not an object now, not that it ever was. We’ve inherited our father’s fortune. It does nothing to cover the pain of losing him, but money never hurt a thing.
We have an obligation to keep my father’s memory alive, and there’s no better way to do that than to throw the most elegant party that New York society has ever seen. Even on the outskirts of the city, in this beautiful country estate, we’re the talk of the town.
As dusk settles around us, I follow up on the caterers and make sure everything’s arranged. I want drinks flowing and the champagne fountain to be in perfect accord.
Likely, everything will run smoothly, according to plan, just as it always does.
I go to my rich, overstated room and change into my tux, imagining how the night will go. Probably it will be the same old crowd, and I can only hope to meet a nice model or someone to fuck later.
I let the rain shower fall over me. I like it hot, and the water slides down my rippling abs and perfectly sculpted muscles. I work hard on this body, and it shows.
I slap on some aftershave, run a comb through my hair, and put on the outfit the butler has laid out for me.
As I walk through the foyer in my tux, all eyes are on me. The household staff look at me with a certain amount of awe, and it’s the usual.
My blonde hair and rugged, tall stature give me a certain amount of presence. I know how to command a room. I always have.
The party’s in full swing. The band’s in place, and people start filing in.
It’s a beautiful party—glamorous and everything. But it’s also nothing I haven’t seen before. Ever since my mother met George Belcourt, I’ve been going to these parties.
Have I become jaded? Maybe a little.
I’ve b
een given so much, having gone to Yale and everything. And it’s not that I’m ungrateful—it’s that I haven’t found my passion, or something or someone that will keep me interested for any length of time.
I have my brothers, though. All four of us have remained a united band ever since we met. Thank god for George Belcourt. My father might’ve married four separate women, but that didn’t make us any less of a family.
Though the guys—Evan, Paul, and Matt—are not technically my blood brothers, we’ve been through everything together. And what’s more enduring than that?
I love socializing, though, and so this is more of my scene than anything else. I like to make the incoming socialites feel especially comfortable. A lot of them I know, a lot of them I don’t, but I always enjoy the sight of a beautiful woman.
“Hi, Ava.” I kiss her cheek. “I haven’t seen you in a while. Where have you been hiding?”
“Oh, Ian, you know me, I’ve been traveling around the world. Mostly Europe, but we went to Greece also. And let me tell you, those Grecians know how to party. It was the wildest time. You should’ve been there.”
“I’ll have to catch you in the next round,” I say.
This girl, Ava, I’ve known since college. She’s a trust fund baby, and she’s never had to work a day in her life.
Technically, I’m a trust fund kid, too, but the difference between me and her is that I actually go to work. I enjoy the feeling of making my own money.
I’m one of the most successful lawyers in New York City. And having that much power makes every second of law school worth it.
So while she and a lot of my friends are trouncing around the world on their parent’s dimes, I’m usually away at the office, struggling to fight for people’s rights.
Don’t get me wrong, it’s not like I’m locked up in a hole somewhere. I have a penthouse office that overlooks the entire city. I’m living my dream—and the dream, to me, involves having a strong work ethic and a purpose in life.
It was George Belcourt who taught me this.
Yes, I could’ve lived off my parent’s money. Yes, I now have a huge inheritance. But none of that means anything if you don’t have strength of character.
My father showed me how money can lead to a hollowed existence if you don’t have the substance to back up your life. And that was perhaps his greatest lesson. And it’s why I’m standing here today, why I don’t envy Ava or her social circle for flying around the world and just trying to party.
“Ian, this is my friend, Elena. She’s from Spain. We just got back. Let me tell you, Barcelona was amazing. Have you been there?” she asks.
I’m too busy sizing up her friend, Elena. She’s tall and has a striking face and a gorgeously thin body.
“Um, no, never been to Barcelona. I’ve been to Madrid, though, on business, and it was incredible.”
Elena says in her sultry Spanish accent, “Madrid? That’s fabulous. I grew up there.”
“Look,” Ava says, inserting herself into my moment with Elena, “you guys have something in common. Ian, you really must travel with us next time. You’re missing out on so much. I don’t see how you can stay locked away in the city, forever on the island of Manhattan.”
“Oh, Ava,” I say, “you know me. If I’m not working, I don’t feel fulfilled. I’m a bit of a workaholic.”
“What do you do?” Elena asks.
“I’m a lawyer,” I say, just as a new influx of beauties come walking in the door.
“Excuse me, Ava, Elena. I’ll have to see you beautiful ladies later. Don’t forget to stay for the fireworks show.”
They look at me wistfully as I walk away, and I know I just shattered both of their hearts, especially Ava’s. She knows how much money I’m suddenly worth. And that makes me husband material.
The thing is, I’m not interested in that. I don’t want to be loved for my money. Who does?
But I might find one or both of them later for a midnight romp. For now, though, I have to greet my guests.
People file in from all walks of life, but mostly from the upper echelons of New York society.
“Hi, Ian,” a man says to me.
“Bill, it’s been too long.”
“Listen, I’m really sorry about your father. Maybe we can grab lunch in the city sometime?”
“That’d be great. Call me.”
I walk around the outer edges of the pool where I notice there are a few mermaids inside. The women are beautiful, and their shimmering tails add to the allure.
The party planners have really gone out of their way to do a good job tonight. There’re mermaids in the pool, fire dancers, and beautiful women dancing on newly erected platforms.
This is a party my father would’ve been proud of. It’s exotic, and there are beautiful women everywhere.
There must be at least two hundred people here, and the party’s only just begun. I grab a bottle of scotch and search out my brothers so that we can make a proper toast to the one-month anniversary of my dad’s death.
I roam the premises, but I don’t see any of them.
“Ian, honey! You look so handsome.”
“Hi, Priscilla.” I kiss her cheek. She was a friend of my dad’s, and likely a mistress too. “How are you?”
“I’m doing much better, thank you. I miss your dad so much. We all do.”
“Well, honey, it’s nice to see you. Have fun, alright?”
“Okay, Ian. You’re always so sweet. I’ll see you,” she says and kisses my cheek. And I’m reminded of just how far my father’s reach extended.
I can only hope to have such a legacy.
I circle the party and finally go off to the side of the house where I see my brother, Evan, pulling the skirt down on some woman.
“Hey, man. Been busy?” I interrupt him.
“Tiffany, this is my brother Ian,” he says, looking not at all surprised to see me.
She eyes me like I’m a piece of meat when she’s only just fucked my brother. I look at the pretty blonde, take her hand, and let my lips brush against her skin.
“It’s nice to meet you, Tiffany.”
We lead off toward the party, and both Evan and I watch Tiffany’s ass as she goes. She’s wearing a tight red dress, and the outline of her figure is obvious.
“Was she good?” I ask my brother.
“Yeah, she was great. But you know me, I’m always looking for more.”
And just then, we both look up and see a radiant woman in a slinky black dress on the outskirts of the party.
We stop in our tracks.
We look at each other at the same time.
And then we look back at her.
The most gorgeous thing I’ve ever seen.
Chapter 4
Meg
I’ve been doing my best to stay near the edge of the party.
I don’t exactly belong here.
It may not be obvious from the exterior. I am wearing my lucky dress, after all, but internally I’m thinking that I don’t belong with these people.
It’s blue-blooded, highbrow people with money everywhere.
At least I’m not working here as the maid. Not for tonight. That’d make me really stand out.
I thank my lucky stars that I got the night off. The prospect of being a maid and having to serve these people suddenly feels unbearable. I’m going to have to talk to Simon about this and see once again if I can get out of this humiliating position.
I’ve got my back pressed against the wall, and I’m just trying to go unnoticed as a wallflower and sip my champagne.
I look up and see at the edge of the party, over toward the lake, two unbelievably hot men staring at me. They’re tall, chiseled, and making me wet between the thighs. One look is all it takes to have my heart start to pound in my chest.
I’m not sure who these men are, and though I want to know, the fact is I need to remain unapproachable.
I’m here to do a job. I’m here to spy. And while I wish that my jo
b was socializing and doing possibly more with these guys, it’s simply out of the question.
I break from their gaze and duck within a crowd of people to try to go unnoticed. I walk through the party, through scores of people, and listen to their very bland conversations.
Everybody’s talking about Mr. Belcourt and how he left a fortune to his sons. It’s enough that I have to hear about this all day from Simon, but now I see that it’s the hot gossip on everybody’s lips.
I make my way toward the opposite side of the pool and sit on a lounge chair so that I can watch the mermaids as they play in the water. It’s actually the most hilarious thing I’ve ever seen.
I’m trying not to laugh when a sultry voice says behind me, “Are you finding them funny?”
I spin around to see one of the guys that made me so wet. He catches me off guard, but I try to keep my cool composure.
“Um, hi. No. I mean, I just think...you know...mermaids…” I stumble over my words, not knowing how to explain the joke which he’s obviously not getting.
“You know, I paid for those mermaids. You don’t think they have a nice touch?”
Oh my god, I’m starting to realize that I might be speaking to one of my bosses—one of the Belcourt brothers. How can I have missed this?
“Oh, I’m sorry. I just have never seen, you know, real mermaids before, that’s all,” I say.
He takes a seat on the lounge chair beside me, and I turn to face him. His chiseled face looks even more handsome by candlelight. I feel so weak in the knees that I lose myself.
And this guy is to be my new boss. How can he ever take me seriously now? He’s just caught me gawking over his mermaids.
But come on, the man has mermaids.
I’m still trying to suppress my laughter as I say, “Whatever made you decide to plant mermaids in your pool?”
This makes him smile. And I’m pleased that at least I’ve lightened the moment.
I never dreamed I would have to be spying on someone so handsome. I kind of figured the Belcourt brothers would be four nerds or something, balding and unattractive. I couldn’t have been more mistaken.
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