by Lucy Eden
His answering laugh told me he understood. “Please be careful. Try crawling.”
That advice made sense so I dropped to my hands and knees and slowly moved in the direction of the tiny splashes I heard coming from the tub. I felt around and discovered Adam’s hands were reaching out for me before he helped me back into the tub. “I can’t believe I missed seeing you crawl naked across the floor.”
I laughed and leaned back against his chest.
“If you’re good, maybe I’ll do it again.” I said it in a low sexy growl and I felt Adam stiffen against my back.
“You’re killing me, Princess.” He leaned forward and kissed the spot on my body that always made me shiver. He drew in a deep breath and blew it out. “So, Richard and Vivian Price. What do you want to know?”
“Anything you want to tell me.” He tightened his arms around my waist and drew in another breath.
“My father always wanted a son. He got one. Then two years later, I came along. Nate was an obsession for him, which left no room me and he made no effort to hide it. But I had my mom and we were really close. She was the first person to tell me that I had a talent for art and fed my obsession for architecture. We went to The Guggenheim almost every week or to the park where we would sit on the grass and sketch for hours.
Whenever Nate wasn’t under my father’s thumb we were like The Three Musketeers. She’d take us to movies, restaurants, amusement parks or just for long walks. We would be showered with hugs and kisses whenever she was in reach. I remember seeing her face light up whenever she saw us. She was always so happy.”
He went quiet. After a few breaths he moved one of his hands from my waist, sniffled, then replaced it. He must have wiped his nose. Was he crying?
“Adam, why are you referring to your mom in the past tense? Is she…”
He sniffed loudly again and cleared his throat. “No, but things changed when I was eight.”
“What happened when you were eight?”
“Nate and I went to boarding school in Germany.”
I sat up abruptly and turned to him in the dark. “You went to boarding school in Germany when you were eight?”
“Ja, mein Liebling,” he said in a low growl.
I chuckled softly and resettled myself against his chest.
“I didn’t know you could send an eight year old to boarding school. My cousin went to boarding school in Switzerland, but she was fourteen. My god, that must have been awful for you.”
“It was. It was terrible for everyone except my father. I cried myself to sleep every night for months. I told Nate I’d stopped after a few weeks because I didn’t want to disappoint him. My father made it clear that if I didn’t change my attitude he would separate us. Going home to my mother wasn’t an option.”
His father sounded terrifying. I rested my cheek against his chest and wrapped my arms around him, hoping if I squeezed hard enough that eight-year-old Adam would feel it.
“When Nate and I came home for the break, I was so excited to see my mother. I’d written her letters and sent her drawings for months and she never responded. She never called. I missed her like crazy but when we saw her she was just…different. She lost weight. She barely spoke to us, barely spent any time with us. Nate had our father. As fucked up as he was, it was better than nothing.
“Nate tried to make up for our mother’s emotional absence but he was just a kid and he lost her, too. I stopped eating for a while. I stopped talking. No one but Nate and our nannies noticed. I tried constantly to get my mother’s attention but she was gone. She was like a zombie. Eventually, we went back to school. She didn’t even say goodbye. We’d come home for short breaks, but my father had filled them with camps and activities. Over the years I got over it.”
I didn’t believe that.
“I realized Nate was the only family I could count on and no one else cared, so neither did I. After I while I stopped trying. I was hardly around anyway. My friends at school became my family.”
Adam rubbed my back and it was quiet for a while, just the sound of our breathing and small splashes. I wondered if I should say something but I had no words. I just squeezed him again and he answered my hug with a kiss on the top of my head.
“Usually, if I was a good little boy and stayed out of trouble my father ignored me. It wasn’t as bad as it sounded. I never envied the pressure my father put on Nate. He always had to be perfect. My father planned his entire life for him, even down to choosing his wife. All I had to do was not get arrested, not get anyone pregnant, go to Harvard and work for Price/Covington.”
“But you didn’t go to Harvard.”
“Nope. At first my father thought it was a joke. I applied to Harvard. I did all of the shit I was supposed to do just in case I didn’t get into Pratt.”
“Harvard was your safety school?” I couldn’t believe it. My father was a Harvard grad. He fought like hell to get accepted, had to work two part-time jobs and was in debt for years after he graduated.
“All Prices go to Harvard.”
“What if you weren’t accepted?”
“Princess, all Prices go to Harvard.”
“So, what happened when you didn’t go?”
“He disowned me.” He said it so matter-of-fact, like I’d just asked him what time it was.
“He disowned you?”
“Once he realized I was serious he cut off all communication. My parents didn’t attend my graduation from boarding school and when I got back to New York, security was instructed not to let me into my own house. I haven’t been back since. ”
“You’re kidding! How old were you?”
“Seventeen.”
“Oh my god, Adam.”
His arms squeezed around me and now he was comforting me.
“What did you do?”
“My brother managed to grab some of my stuff from the house and I sold as much as I could. He gave me enough cash for a couple of semesters and let me crash at his apartment while he was away at school. I got a bartending job to help pay my bills and worked my ass off at Pratt.” I felt him shrug as if he was sharing a completely normal everyday occurrence.
“Your mother…” I stopped myself. It was pretty obvious what was going on with Adam’s mother but I couldn’t understand how she could’ve let her own son be completely turned away with nothing.
“My father controlled everyone and everything in that house. My mother most of all. After we were sent to school she started drinking to cope, then came the pills. She pretty much checked out.”
This explained a lot. I couldn’t imagine what having a father like Adam’s must have been like. He sounded like a textbook sociopath.
“Is that why you’re so good at taking care of people? You took care of your mom?”
He heaved a deep sigh and tightened his arms around my waist. I felt him nod and finally, he said, “You would be the second beautiful woman I’ve carried out of a bathroom, but for very different reasons.”
“I’m so sorry you had to go through that.” He kissed the top of my head and sighed again.
“Yeah, I am too. But I graduated and got a great job despite my father’s best efforts. I love where I live. I met a beautiful woman on an airplane who drools in her sleep, is smarter than I am and tricks me into working for free.”
I smiled against his chest.
“So, I turned out okay.”
“I think you turned out better than okay.” In the dark, I slid my hands up his chest and neck until I found his cheeks so I could draw him in for a kiss. I didn’t have any words to express everything what I was feeling at that moment, but I hoped my kiss would. Adam’s large hands slid up my back and gripped my shoulders pulling me closer. It would appear his kiss was also trying to convey a message he couldn’t express with words.
“Kimberly,” he said between breaths.
“Yeah?”
“We really need to get out of this tub.”
I grinned and kissed him again. I slipped o
ne hand under the water and gripped his shaft, slowly stroking up and down.
“Kimberly, what are you—”
“Shhhhh.” I silenced him with a kiss. I reached over, felt around in the dark, pulled the knob under the spout and the water began to drain from the tub with a slurping sound. I started kissing my way down Adam’s neck, across his shoulder and down his chest chasing the water level as it fell. Once the water was completely gone, the only sounds in the dark bathroom were Adam’s shaky breaths.
With one hand on his thigh to steady myself, I leaned forward in the darkness using the hand the stroking Adam’s thickness to guide me. I planted a kiss on the head of his cock. It jerked in my fist and he gasped. I followed up the kiss with a lick, gently pressing the tip of my tongue into his opening lapping up the salty and sticky fluid I found. He groaned. I wet my lips and covered the head of Adam’s cock with my mouth and took in as much of him as I could, swirling my tongue while Adam groaned, swore, and called my name. His crown leaked more salty, sticky pre-cum and I lapped it up before taking him in my mouth again.
“Goddammit, Kimberly.”
Adam was growling and his large hands massaged my back. I was rocking back and forth on my knees, bobbing my head up and down on his thick throbbing cock taking more of him with each return. I’d never be able to get all of him in my mouth so I stroked the base which had now become slick with my saliva and caressed his balls with my other hand.
“Fuck. Kimberly. Fuck.”
I could tell he was gritting his teeth. “I’m gonna come. I’m gonna— ugh!”
Adam filled my mouth with his release and it was hot, salty and sticky. I didn’t know what to do with it in the dark so I swallowed as much as I could and used my finger to catch the fluid that leaked onto my chin before licking it clean.
“Kimberly Simmons, what the fuck are you doing to me?” he said in a deep sigh.
“So Mr. Price is pleased?” I asked in a deep whisper as he wrapped his arms around my waist and squeezed.
“Mr. Price is very pleased and Miss Simmons is next,” he growled.
“Can we get out of this tub first? It’s cold and my fingers are all pruny.”
twenty
Adam
Bright sunlight and an empty bed greeted me when I woke up. I grabbed Kimberly’s pillow and inhaled the delicious scent she always left behind.
After climbing out of bed, I threw on a pair of pajama pants and headed for the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth. After following the sound of the music wafting under the bedroom door, I found Kimberly in the kitchen dancing to “Grazing in the Grass” by The Friends of Distinction in a tank top and yoga pants. She sang, swayed her hips and swung her head to the beat like no one was watching. To complete the image, Kimberly wore a big pair of yellow rubber gloves as she cleaned the countertop with a sponge.
I enjoyed the show for a minute before I sidled up behind her dancing and snapping my fingers until our hips met. She shot me a glance over her shoulder, grinned and backed into me, grinding her perfect ass into my crotch. Encircling her hips with my arms, I pulled her into me before grabbing her wrist and spinning her. I tucked one of my legs between her thighs and wrapped an arm around her waist, holding her close as we swayed together. She grinned at me, still singing along as she asked me if I can dig it. It was so damned adorable that I couldn’t help but kiss her.
“Mmmm, minty,” she whispered.
“Just the way you like it,” I replied. “You know they have people we can call to clean the apartment.”
“Thank you, Captain Obvious.”
I saluted her and she chuckled, rolling her eyes.
“But growing up, listening to music and cleaning the house was something we did every Saturday morning. I hated it when I was a kid but when I went away to college, I missed it. So, it’s something I always do wherever I am. It feels normal.”
“We always had staff to do all that stuff. I didn’t even learn to do my own laundry until I moved out.”
“Oh, we had household staff, too.”
I furrowed my brow and Kimberly sensed my confusion.
“My parents didn’t have much growing up and were afraid my brothers and I would grow up spoiled if we didn’t learn the value of hard work. We tried to explain to them that we would grow up to be perfectly well adjusted adults, especially if it meant not missing Saturday morning cartoons, but they didn’t agree. So, every Saturday morning, for as long as I could remember, we would wake up to the sounds of forty years of R&B, Classic Rock and old school Hip-Hop — Gospel music if our grandparents were visiting— and spend hours cleaning the house. We were also expected to keep our rooms clean, earn an allowance and do volunteer work. Saturday mornings my brothers and I still hang out at my parent’s house and clean.”
“So, your family does this every Saturday morning?” I grabbed the sponge from her hand and tossed it in the sink before pulling off her gloves and wrapping her arms around my neck as Bobby Caldwell’s “Open Your Eyes” filled the kitchen. Her taste in music was added to the top ten of the many reasons that I was so crazy about her.
“Pretty much, but we’re all adults so it’s more of an excuse to hang out, dance, eat food and of course, there’s Michael Jackson power hour.”
“What is Michael Jackson power hour?”
“It’s exactly what it sounds like. An hour of MJ’s best, a lot of high-pitched off-key singing, my dad moonwalking…poorly, my brothers grabbing their crotches…” Her face glowed when she talked about her family and it somehow made her even more beautiful.
“That sounds awesome.” I smiled down at her.
“It is. You should join us sometime.”
“I might take you up on that.” I planted a kiss on her nose before I twirled her away from me and pulled her back where we resumed swaying.
“Does your family have any weekend rituals?” she asked.
“Actually, we do. We have Sunday brunch at Norma’s.”
She stopped swaying for a moment and made her adorable Kimberly Simmons is thinking face. “Norma’s. Is that the place with the million dollar omelet?”
“It’s a thousand dollar frittata.”
“What? That’s crazy. Have you ever had it?”
“I’ve had it. It’s not my favorite. I’m more of a Nutella pancake guy, but my brother always orders it.”
“Mmmm,” she moaned and my dick rejoined the land of the living, “Nutella pancakes. I want to go to there.” I laughed and kissed her.
“You should join us sometime.” I smirked.
She tilted her head and shook it, narrowing her eyes. “I might take you up on that, Mr. Price,” she whispered.
She backed into the kitchen island pulling me with her by the waistband of my pants. She hopped onto the countertop, pulled me between her thighs folding her legs around my waist closing the distance between us before tangling her fingers in my hair and kissing me. Spending an entire day sucking on those soft lips would be amazing, but I had other plans. I steeled myself and pulled away from her.
“Kimberly.”
Her eyes fluttered open and she gave me a puzzled look.
“How long do you need to finish cleaning or whatever?”
“I’m done. I was just waiting for you to wake up. There are people we can call for this, you know.” She flashed me a mischievous grin biting her bottom lip.
“Get dressed, smart ass. I’m taking you out,” I said giving that smart ass a little smack.
“We’re not ordering room service?”
“No, this is our last full day in Barbados. So, we’re going out for breakfast, then we’re going to the beach where we are going to plan the rest of our day.”
An excited grin split her face and I wondered what she was looking forward to the most; breakfast, the beach, or getting to plan something. I promised myself I’d be damned if I didn’t keep that smile there all day.
“Apparently, I owe you a real date and I want to make sure this isn’t li
ke a crazy vacation sex fueled pheromone thing.”
“Is that why we didn’t have sex after our bath?” She was perceptive as usual. Kimberly’s words last night stuck with me. Fucking her felt so good that I wanted to live and die inside her, but I knew my feelings went far beyond physical attraction. I always thought it was corny when people said dumb shit like my better half or you complete me but that’s what Kimberly felt like. She needed know that this was real for me. I would be happy doing anything as long as she was with me.
“You said you were sore. Are you complaining about what I did to you after our bath?” I raised an eyebrow. She bit her lip and shook her head. I cupped her ass in my hands and slid her off of the counter and started walking towards our bedroom with her legs still wrapped around my waist where I liked them. “Maybe I didn’t stay down there long enough.”
“Come on, Adam,” she said between sips from her coconut. “A freaking submarine? Have you met me?” She snatched the brochure out of my hand and tossed it in the growing pile of rejected activities along with zip-lining: “what if the lines snap or we get stuck up there?,” Snorkeling with turtles: “how do we know the turtles don’t bite?,” and Harrison’s Cave: “I’m not going into a tunnel hundreds of feet underground.”
After we recovered from not having sex all morning— the most exhausted I’d ever been after not fucking someone, we showered, got dressed and had breakfast in the same restaurant where we had our second date. We were sitting on the beach with Kimberly’s feet in my lap, sorting through the activity brochures I grabbed from the concierge.
“Okay.” I nodded. “No submarines. Glass bottom boat?” I held up the brochure. She took it from my hand, studied it for a minute before dropping it her lap and sighing. “Hey you, what’s up?” I caressed her cheek with my thumb.
“I’m sorry. I’m sure all of these are fun but I’m just… I know you wanted to have this ‘awesome’ day and I feel like I’m blowing it.”