I smiled sweetly at him. “No.”
He let out an agonized, humorless laugh, which quickly turned into a gulp and a dry, cracking, “I’m too close.”
“Then come,” El-Mudad taunted him. “Or try not to think about how hot and wet her pussy is. How tight it is with my cock in her ass. How you can feel me through her, feel every inch of me along your—“
“Oh, fuck!” Neil clutched at my back and lifted me up between them, spearing El-Mudad’s shaft deeper into me. I shouted in pained alarm and joy at watching him, my usually calm and in control Dom, losing himself completely. He planted his feet on the mattress, straining up to stuff as much of his long, thick shaft into me as he could. He roared his release, gushing hot inside of me with every last, hard thrust.
“You have to keep going,” I reminded him as his body relaxed.
“Not for long,” El-Mudad said through gritted teeth, and he, too, went over the edge, gripping my ass in both hands to hold me tight against him while he poured into me.
I gave them just a few seconds so they could hear above their pulses again and said, “You know...I haven’t come yet. I think it’s rude to stop until everyone has.”
“You said the two of us!” El-Mudad’s forehead was bathed in sweat when he leaned it against my upper back.
“I said everyone.” I wriggled my hips and tried to get my hand between Neil and me so I could reach my clit.
“You already had three!” Neil protested, his voice strangled as I slowly rode his semi-hard cock. I didn’t want him to slip out of my body before I could fully torment him, so I concentrated on circling my nearly numb clit faster and faster.
“Fuck you, Sophie,” El-Mudad laughed, out of breath as he forced himself to keep moving. He whimpered in discomfort, and that really only made me hotter. I’d thought I would just end up bestowing mercy upon them, but the exciting new texture of their cum lubricating my holes and the way they still pulsed and jerked inside of me, on top of the knowledge that I was enacting some mild revenge for all the times they’d tortured me the same way, took me to an unexpected but happy little orgasm. I sighed in contentment, as though I hadn’t absolutely ravaged them, and wriggled off their softening cocks.
“I wish,” Neil said, pausing to swallow against audible dryness in his throat, “that I had never shown you those post-handjob torture videos.”
El-Mudad wiped sweat from his face and grinned at me. “On the contrary, I am so, so glad that he did.”
Chapter Five
Despite us not really doing anything or even leaving the bedroom all that much, the days flew by. Christmas-Eve-Eve was upon us before we knew it, and the arrival of family and friends meant retreating, once again, into secrecy.
“I hate this,” I complained as I fastened my Cartier pink chalcedony orchid earrings. “You know, if we were Mormons, this would be totally legit.”
“Let’s not deal in stereotypes, Sophie. It would not be. And even in the circles where it might be, you’d have to be a man, and we would have to be women,” Neil said patiently, checking his hair in the mirror. We were in his dressing room, the bridge between the Gray Apartment and El-Mudad’s bedroom. It was a weird combination between a closet and some kind of lounge, with charcoal colored walls and sleek mahogany shelving, as well as a gilded trifold mirror and a pedestal on which a person could stand while getting tailored. But there was also a set of dark brown leather armchairs with high backs, grouped around a small fireplace. I supposed it would be convenient if one got tired and needed to take a tea break while selecting shoes. Neil was picky enough, that might be a real possibility.
The door stood open, and through it, I spied El-Mudad emerging from his shower, a towel wrapped around his narrow waist.
I glanced over at Neil and caught him staring, too.
“I can feel your perverted eyes,” El-Mudad called.
“I suppose that’s something we need to work on,” Neil said grimly. “Can’t be eye-fucking our ‘good friend’ during family Christmas.”
“Or during brunch with his daughters.” My stomach turned at the thought of that. I had no idea what role we would play in their lives. I couldn’t be a stepmom, owing to my utter lack of mom-ness and the secrecy of our relationship to their father. Would I be the cool aunt? The distant family friend who sent birthday gifts clearly picked out by an assistant?
I would have to hire an assistant.
Taking a deep breath, I adjusted the hem of my Dolce & Gabbana bow-neck crêpe de chine blouse where it tucked into my high-waisted black lace culottes and hoped I didn’t look too dowdy. Whatever happened, I trusted El-Mudad to set the parameters and boundaries. I would just follow his lead and hope I didn’t cross any of them.
I was so absorbed in my fears, I didn’t notice that El-Mudad had stepped up behind me until he put his arms around my waist. He met my eyes over my shoulder in the mirror and leaned down to kiss my neck. “Relax, my love. This isn’t an audition.”
“It feels like one,” Neil said, surprising me. I always thought of him as being far calmer than me in any situation. I don’t know why; I’d seen him fall completely apart more times than I could count. But he could still somehow fool me into thinking he had his shit together.
“It does. But remember, they’re teenagers. If they get any sense at all that I want them to like you, they won’t. The pressure is on me, not you,” El-Mudad promised. “I’ve waited too long to be with you to let one brunch tear us apart forever.”
A bell chimed from the bedroom. Neil frowned and fixed the collar of his cranberry-colored button down. “Back in a moment.”
El-Mudad tightened his arms around me and leaned in to press his freshly-shaven cheek to mine. “You look so beautiful this morning.”
“You tell me that every morning,” I reminded him.
“I could stop if you want me to.” He kissed my neck
Neil poked his head through the doorway. “Your mother and Tony have arrived, darling.”
I wiggled away from El-Mudad and stepped into my beige, round-toed pumps. “We’ll see you in a few hours then?”
“Don’t be nervous,” he reiterated.
When Neil and I reached the hallway, I said, “I’m still going to be nervous. I don’t care what he says.”
“Oh, I am in total agreement.” Neil’s mouth pulled into a grim line. “I’m actually looking forward to breakfast with Rebecca.”
“Watch it,” I warned.
Mom and Tony waited for us in the drawing room, where my mother already sat on one of the red velvet settees, a drink in her hand. I lifted my eyebrows and tilted my head.
“What?” Mom asked, sipping from her glass of champagne. “They offered it.”
I glanced over at the servant who stood beside the bucket of ice on its silver stand.
Mom’s eyes widened. “Oh, I am so sorry, Neil. I didn’t even think—”
He held up a hand. “No, no, it’s perfectly all right.”
Was it? Because the holidays were agony for Neil. “What happened to dry Christmas?”
“I thought that was going a bit overboard,” he said evenly. “My brothers are coming. Your family will be here. There’s no sense in ruining their good time.”
And there it was. His brothers would be here. My family would be here. If there were no alcohol in a social setting, it would have to be explained. Admitting that he had a problem, even to people who already knew he had a problem, was more frightening to him than a relapse.
That terrified me.
“You’re right,” I said with a shrug. If I forced myself to be okay with it, maybe I would be okay with it.
Because blithely ignoring his problem worked out so well in the past.
“Your mom sure took to this lifestyle quick, huh?” Tony asked, sounding almost embarrassed. I didn’t know what had gone down while they’d been waiting for us, but he had the nervous energy of someone who hadn’t sat since arriving.
Neil laughed. A genuine one, not th
e uncomfortable politeness with which he usually navigated his weird former-employer relationship with Tony. “Get used to it. This is going to be a part of your lifestyle, too, now.”
“This is a little rich for my tastes.” Tony’s gaze drifted up to the ceiling, and he swallowed.
“Stop pacing a hole in the floor,” Mom told him, and patted the cushion beside her. Neil motioned to the servant standing by.
“Tony, would you like anything to drink?” Neil asked.
“Just coffee.”
“Could you be sure to have a carafe of coffee ready with breakfast?” Neil asked the young man, who nodded and left immediately to do as he’d been told.
“I could get used to this,” Mom said, keeping her voice low so as not to be overheard by the guy who already knew he was employed as a domestic. “Why don’t you have staff on Long Island?”
“We do. Just not staff who wait on us all the time.” Thank God. “I wouldn’t be able to handle this level of helpfulness twenty-four-seven. It’s kind of creepy.”
Neil shook his head. “I’ve never found it so. Then again, I grew up with it. When Elizabeth and I moved into the penthouse, my mother acted like I’d moved into a cave.”
I pressed my hand to my chest as though I’d been scandalized into a heart attack. “Just one housekeeper?”
“And the place is so tiny,” Mom added with a snort of laughter
“Yes, yes, all right. Mock me for having too much money and breeding,” Neil said, feigning resignation. “If you’re finished, we can go to breakfast? That is, if Rebecca isn’t too drunk, yet?”
“One glass!” she protested with a laugh.
Neil gave Mom and Tony the casual tour as we trekked across the house. Mom took all the pointing out of architectural details and oil portraits in stride, but Tony was as overwhelmed as I had been the first time I’d been to the house.
“Doing okay?” I asked under my breath, leaning toward him so he could hear me.
“No,” he said with a wink. “But I’ll survive.”
“I was completely out of my depth when I came here the first time, too. I hate it. I feel like the ghost of the queen is going to pop out at me.” I half-covered my mouth as I whispered it, hoping to direct the comment to his ears only. Since Mom and Neil walked farther and farther ahead of us, mutually rapturous over the sunlight in the west gallery, I doubted they would be interested in our conversation, anyway.
“Becky seems to pick it up quick.” Tony cleared his throat. “Not that that’s a bad thing.”
“But how are you gonna keep ‘em on the farm when they’ve been waited on by liveried servants twenty-four hours a day?” I suggested with a wry smile. Tony wasn’t going to be able to keep my mom living at the level she’d been living at with us. I would absolutely give them money if they wanted it, but they had their pride. Mom was going to go back to a daily life of laundry and bills, with the added aggravations of finding parking spaces and trying to navigate a city with more people in it than in the entire upper peninsula of Michigan.
“You know she wants to get back to a more normal life,” I went on. “Don’t be threatened by her enjoying my money by proxy.”
“What was that?” Neil called back.
“I said this wallpaper is tacky.” I smiled sweetly at him.
“Well, get an Ouija board and tell Baroness Rothschild. I’m sure she’d love to discuss it with you,” he said with a roll of his eyes before moving on to explain to my mother the significance of the plaster medallions in the ceiling.
Right. Like I’d ever touch an Ouija board, let alone bring one into Deathbyshire Manor.
Since we would have guests coming in all morning, brunch had been laid out buffet-style in the blue dining room. We filled our plates and waited for the servants to pour our coffee and juice, which we could have easily done by ourselves in half the time.
“So, is your whole family going to be here for Christmas?” Mom asked Neil, folding her napkin across her lap. She quickly followed it up with, “Siblings, I mean?”
I saw the nanosecond of grief I’d grown so familiar with flicker a crease across his brow. It was so fast, but I never missed it. He forced a smile. “My brothers. My sister is on a yacht somewhere.”
“I haven’t seen them since the wedding,” Mom said, seeming pleased at the prospect. “I really like the one’s wife...Kristine?”
“I just love her,” I agreed.
“Yes, she and Runólf will be here,” Neil said. Then, without missing a beat or sounding suspicious in any way, he smoothly added, “Oh, and our friend El-Mudad will be here with his daughters.”
My mom’s eyebrows shot up. I knew she thought I’d cheated on Neil with El-Mudad while Neil had been in the hospital. No, not thought. Feared.
Either way, it was insulting.
Even worse, Tony knew all about El-Mudad. There was no way he’d driven us around on dates and not noticed me stumbling, sex-dazed, from the back of the Maybach. And he knew about our secret sexy playhouse and that El-Mudad had gone out there with us plenty of times. But an NDA prevented him from telling my mom. More importantly, he was just a good guy who minded his business.
“I didn’t realize he celebrated Christmas,” Mom verbally tiptoed around El-Mudad’s religion.
“I don’t celebrate Christmas, either, in the strictest sense of the word. But spending time with the people you love is as much the spirit of the season as the hymns and decorations.” Neil’s glance briefly flicked to Tony.
And I realized what Neil had said. He knew just as well as I that Tony was fully aware of the relationship we had with El-Mudad. So, it was a relief when Tony said, “I totally agree.”
I reached for Neil’s hand under the table and squeezed it. We might not have been able to be open to everyone about our boyfriend, but we had an accomplice in our corner, and that felt like enough for the moment.
Once everyone started eating and talking, it felt a lot more like a meal at home. My home, at least. Though Neil was perfectly comfortable and happy at his “country house,” it would never feel like more than a museum to me. But we chatted about Mom and Tony’s flight and when we could expect our other family members to arrive, as well as how much we were missing Olivia. For the first time in my entire life with Neil, I felt like Mom and I fit in.
And then the rest of my family arrived.
When Mom and Tony and Neil and I learned of their arrival, we met in the main foyer. My grandmother and an assortment of aunts, uncles, and cousins stood in various degrees of discomfort and awe as they took everything in. My grandmother stared straight up, her mouth agape as she viewed the ridiculous mural on the ceiling of the second story. “My land.”
“Half-naked babies, am I right?” I said, startling her. She recovered in a snap and pulled me into her arms for a big hug.
“They’re cherubs,” Neil corrected me. He braced himself as Grandma hugged him, too, and stammered out, “H-hello, uh, grandmother.”
I hid my laugh behind my hand. She insisted Neil call her that, even though she was younger than his mother had been.
“This is some place,” Aunt Marie said, coming in for a hug.
“You can buy me one like this for my birthday, Neil,” Grandma told him.
He scoffed. “You throw a tantrum any time I try to replace your appliances.”
“But I always let you,” she reminded him, as though us buying her a new refrigerator was a favor she did for us.
“I’m so glad so many people could come.” I looked around the room and saw most of my cousins, some of them with their spouses and children, which really blew my mind. Time was moving so fast. One minute, we’d all been kids playing in the broken down truck behind Grandma and Grandpa’s house, and the next, I was thirty.
“Ah, here she is,” Neil said, turning suddenly. The housekeeper, followed by several staff members, hurried in. Neil addressed my family. “This is Joan. She and the household staff are going to see to your every need. She and
Sophie have drawn up a rooming list, and Joan has provided you with maps, so you don’t get lost—”
“Maps? Of your house?” my cousin, Leanne, asked, juggling her son’s diaper bag on her shoulder.
“It’ll save you a lot of extra walking around,” I explained.
Grandma hoisted a small Coleman cooler. “Where’s the kitchen? I brought potato salad, and the ice in here is melting.”
“I’ll take that,” one of the staffers said, flinching in distaste when she touched the time-stained plastic handle.
Oh, think again, my good lady. I shot the woman the most passive-aggressive fake smile in the history of obviousness, and said, “If you’re sure it’s no trouble.”
Her expression completely froze. She got the hint. “None at all, ma’am.”
“If you’ll leave your bags and follow me, please?” Joan said. She was used to giving tours to television programs, Neil had once told me, and I’d almost passed out at that startling information.
Neil’s text alert chimed, and he pulled his phone from his pocket. “Darling, they’re here.”
“They’re early,” I said, my stomach twitching all over in fear.
“We should go,” Neil said, equally jumpy.
“Go?” Mom asked. “Everybody just got here.”
“Some of our other guests have arrived,” Neil said apologetically. “But everyone, please make yourselves at home. There is a brunch buffet set up in the East Gallery. I’m sure Joan can show you where to go, and she’ll give you a brief tour of the house while your luggage is delivered to your rooms.”
Jesus, we were treating my family like a tour group.
“I promise we’ll be more normal tonight,” I called after everybody.
“I doubt it,” Marie snarked back.
“Where are we meeting them?” I couldn’t handle our very first meeting with Amal and Rashida if it were part of a group family breakfast.
“We’re supposed to have lunch in the conservatory.” He paused. “In hindsight, that was a bit of a poor choice, wasn’t it?”
“God, there aren’t a bunch of dead butterflies in there, are there?” I pressed a hand to my temple. “It’s going to be okay. We’re all gonna be okay.”
The Boyfriend Page 10
