by Haley Pierce
Is it possible my father could have lost more weight in the few days since I’ve seen him last? He was always round in the face, but now he’s positively skeletal, his face a pale green. There’s an IV with his morphine drip and a whirring machine next to him, noting his heart rate. That’s the only sound in the room. He studies me with watery blue eyes as I step inside. He has the covers pulled up tight to his chest, and his eyes follow me, but no other part of his body moves.
“Where have you been?” he croaks. Not angrily, but with no energy left. It pains me to hear my father sound so weak.
I stare at him. “What do you mean? Last time you told me that if you wanted to see me, you’d invite me over.”
“That’s not a reason not to visit your father!” he shouts at me.
“Well, I’m still working, father,” I tell him. “Trying to keep the business afloat.”
He doesn’t answer. Instead, his pupils trail over to Lily, who is still standing beside me, holding my hand.
“Father, this is Lily. My fiancé.”
“Right. The fiancé.” He strains to look at her. Then he says, without looking at me, “Give me my glasses, boy.”
I find them on the night table and hand them to him. He’s struggling to sit up, so I rush to help him arrange his pillow. Before I can get it fully up, he swats me away. I take a step back.
He has his glasses on now, and is raking his eyes over Lily, now. “It’s nice to finally meet you,” she says, smiling. “I’ve heard so much about you.”
“It couldn’t have been good. Knowing this one,” he says in a gravelly voice as he points a thumb at me. “What does a pretty young girl like you see in him?”
She raises his eyebrow. She must think he’s joking, but I know the truth of it. “He has his charms,” she says with a twinkle in her eyes.
“Does he, now?” he mutters thoughtfully. “What is your family like?”
Of course he’s fishing to find out if she has any money of her own. He thinks my only charm, and the only reason any woman would be interested in me, is because of my family money. Lily recites the prepared answer, without once looking at me for confirmation. She spent the earliest part of her life living in New York, where she too attended the Trinity school. But when she was a teenager, she lived out in the Hamptons, only returning to the city once she received her law degree. Both of her parents still practice law out in Long Island.
For some reason, my father loves bloodsucking lawyers, so his eyes light up. “How long have you been together?”
“Two years,” we answer in unison. I look at her. Did that sound too prepared? Too staged?
“We met while running in Central Park,” she says, coming over to the side of the bed and taking my hand. The enormous ring scrapes my fingers. She’s right, it is too big. It can’t be comfortable to wear. “He was a gentleman. Took care of me after I twisted my ankle.”
He lets out a snort. “This boy? Please. You’ve got the wrong man. The only reason he wanted to help was because he wanted to get in your tight running shorts.”
I scowl at him. It’s not like I’m a total ogre who pushes old ladies into traffic, but my father has known my less-than-gentlemanly ways. He used to mail me newspaper clippings from the society pages with my latest conquests. He used to tell me it would get me in trouble. I thought he meant that I’d have to deal with catty women, fighting over me. I had no idea that he meant I’d lose my chance at the helm of my business.
Not that my father was much better. Maybe he’d made amends later, but when he was my age, he had quite the roving eye. He chuckles slowly, and so long, that it dissolves into a hacking, wet cough.
I look at Lily; whose eyes are wide in concern.
My father motions me forward.
I lean toward him, feeling like this is it. He has something important to say. He keeps motioning forward until I can feel his stale breath on my face. When I’m close, he says, “I know what you’re doing. And this time, boy, it’s not going to work.”
I blink. “Excuse me?”
“You remind me of a fucking snake, boy. Always trying to see which way you can spin things, so that it’ll be best for you, never mind who you have hurt.”
I shake my head. “Dad—“
“All this time, you’ve been trying to buy your way into favor with me. And I let you, because it helped the company succeed. But here’s the thing.”
He pauses, and a sick smile spreads over his face. I want to leave. I know this isn’t good.
“You will never be the Winchester that your brother is. No matter what you say or do. It will never – do you hear me?” His spittle hits my face as his voice rises. “Never be good enough.”
I stare at him, feeling myself shrinking into the floorboards.
“That is what I wanted to tell you.” Then he looks at Lily and says, “Don’t bring this innocent woman down with you. I don’t care how you found each other, but you’ll want to unfind him as quickly as possible. He’s a snake who will only hurt you.”
I open my mouth to say something else, but is there anything?
He doesn’t allow me the privilege. “Get out!” he says, new strength in his voice. “And I don’t care if I never see you again!”
I nod. Lily takes my hand and we somehow find out way outside.
Lily keeps her head down as we quickly descend the staircases to the first floor. When we’re out in the foyer, Dan is there, leaning against a paneled wall, hands in his pockets. He’s smiling a sly kind of smile, like he knows exactly what went on in there. “Dad wasn’t fooled by your latest attempt to be a family man, was he?” he asks.
I stop only to collect Lily’s things from the servants. “Fuck you,” I say, as I storm out the door, with Lily close behind.
Lily
I don’t even know what to say about what I just witnessed.
My mother and father were the epitome of loving parents. They loved having kids. They were keenly interested in each one of our individual interests, and in our happiness. My father was always going to my softball games, or making sure I was doing all right. Maybe we didn’t have a lot of money, but we’d have long talks, each night, about how life was. They gave each one of us unlimited time. And as I grew, I felt like we only grew closer.
That man, dying in there? He treated Max like a virtual stranger. No, worse than that. He acted like he hated him.
How can anyone hate their own blood?
I find myself completely flummoxed, replaying Mr. Winchester’s warning in my head as we walk silently to the limo. Max is a snake? He’s going to bring me down? He only thinks for himself?
That is far from the Max I know.
He and his father might not think that caring for others is in his destiny. He called himself a heartless, too. But I think he has a huge heart, capable or love. The Max I know is giving, and kind, and . . .wonderful.
“Well, that was fucking miserable,” Max says once we’ve slid into the back of the limo.
“I’m sorry,” I say, horrified by the whole thing. His father was a complete . . . jerk to him. I can’t imagine having grown up in a house that stiff, that much like a mausoleum. No wonder he hates going back there. “Do you think it was me?”
He shakes his head and says, his voice bitter, “No. It’s not your fault. It’s probably my fault for thinking I could ever change his mind.”
He pours himself a scotch, downs it in one large gulp, as the limo takes off through mid-town, headed for the George Washington Bridge. Then he pours himself another. At this hour of night, the traffic is fairly light, so I know we’ll make good time on the way home. He’s on his third before the signs for the bridge even come in sight. Even if we do make good time, he’ll be smashed by the time I leave the limo.
I don’t want to leave him. Not like this. Not with that wild look in his eyes, hell bent on destruction.
“Why does he treat you like that?” I say softly. “It was like he wanted to punish you.”
&nbs
p; He lets out a huff of laughter. “He does,” he says pensively, staring into the glass of scotch between his legs.
“But for what?”
He looks at me, and a small, mournful smile comes on his face. “For being someone else’s son.”
I stare at him. “I don’t understand. You said . . . I didn’t. . .”
He lets out a small, bitter laugh. “You didn’t know? Well, no one knows, really. It’s a carefully guarded secret of the Winchester family,” he says. He takes a deep breath. “I told you my father was never around. The business was his life. My mother couldn’t take it. She had affairs with a string of men, most of them married. Who, I don’t know. When she became pregnant with me, the affairs came out, and my father vowed to change his ways. They pretended I was his own. But then Dan came along, and it became very clear that he was playing favorites.”
“You and Dan are . . . half brothers?”
He nods. “Yep. He didn’t tell me until I was much older that I wasn’t his son. But by then it was glaringly obvious. I was sent away to boarding school, Dan was kept at home. Dan had huge birthday parties, I got a small dinner with just the family. My father would bounce Dan on his knee, and he never did that to me. That kind of thing.”
I clasp my hand over my mouth. So all of this, running the business, making it into a massive dynasty . . . it wasn’t for any other reason than to impress his father. And him not wanting a wife? It was because the women he’d been closest to had been unfaithful. “I’m sorry,” I say.
He shrugs. “Oh, well. And that’s my life.” Then he shakes his head and looks out the window. “It was a shit thing to do, to think that me having a wife would make any difference. I can’t. No matter what I do.”
“So, that’s it, then?”
He looks at me, his brows knit. “No, that’s fucking not it. I’m not giving up.”
I can only imagine what other schemes he has in store. Maybe those schemes are why his father thinks he’s such a snake. Maybe, rather than stooping low, he should just cut his losses now. “Would it be so bad, to be second in command at Winchester?” I ask him gently.
He looks out the window, pondering that. I can tell he’s not one to often swallow his pride, and working under his little brother would probably be difficult. “Of course. It would be hell.”
“But you’re not completely out. Dan will obviously need you, since he doesn’t know the business at all.”
“I’d fuck the business over before I told him anything,” he growls. “I’m not going to let it happen. Even if it doesn’t make a difference with him, I’m going to fight for it. Fuck!”
He grips his glass so hard that I think it might crack in his palm.
I put a hand on his knee. “Please, Max.”
He nods. “I’m sorry. I’m just not at my best right now.”
I slip the ring off her finger, and hand it to him. “But it is it for me, right? You don’t need me, anymore. It doesn’t make sense to continue.”
He takes the ring, holding it in his hand, staring at the many brilliant diamonds glowing in the streetlights above. Shaking his head slowly, he looks at me. I’ve never seen him look so wounded before. He pockets the ring and murmurs, “Sometimes I think you’re the only thing that does make sense in my life, Lily.”
And just like that, I see the real him, the one who isn’t all ego and bluster. He isn’t the man that his father has built him to be, the one who doesn’t care about anything but making money. Maybe he can’t make a difference with his father, but I know there is something I can do, at least. It might be small, and it might only help him for a bit, but I am desperate to try it. To help him.
I lean scramble up, onto my knees, and lean over to give him a soft kiss, just brushing my lips lightly over his.
It catches him by surprise. He puts down the scotch, straightens, sitting up more, tensing, and I can sense his hesitancy. I place a hand on his chest. I lean over and put my mouth on his lips again. He exhales. “Lily, what are you doing . . . ?”
I kiss him again, this time, my tongue probing its way into his mouth. He kisses me back, his hand tangling in my hair. I push his jacket off, unknotting his tie, working each button to the caramel skin beneath. I breathe in that heady sweet smell of his cologne, as he pushes against the backrest, allowing me to roll on top of him, straddling his lap on my knees. His hands find my ass.
His body, so strong against mine, is like a wall of heat. I can’t believe I’m so close to him, that everything I’ve wanted is just here, waiting for me, close enough to touch and taste and experience. And like a kid in a candy store, I want it all. I run a finger down a sculpted muscle, to the rise of his nipple, and the tendons twitch in response. Oh. That’s amazing.
When I look in his eyes, that tortured, miserable look is gone. He’s gazing at me with something like awe. Like he can’t believe innocent Lily can be here, touching him this way. “Is this okay?” I ask him nervously.
He nods. “Better than that.”
“I mean, I’ve been wanting to do this. I can’t help it.”
He nods, playing with a lock of my hair. “Perfect. Now you know how I feel.”
I let out an uneasy laugh. “You wanted this?”
“Well, let’s put it this way. Those texts? The ones where I told you what I wanted to do to you? It wasn’t fiction.”
Oh my goodness. Heart beating out of control, I focus on his skin, now golden in the streetlights passing by overhead in a blur. “Tell me if I’m doing something wrong.”
His lips part, and he sucks in a breath. The awe-filled expression has morphed once again, and now there is a stark, white-hot hunger in his eyes. “Not possible.”
I sit back on his knees, grab the hem of my dress, and pull it over my head, so that I’m in just my bra and thong. I cast the dress aside and shake out my hair, not feeling ashamed at all. I want him to see me. I want him to know me, the way no one else ever has.
His eyes trail lazily down my body. He takes a finger and touches the heart necklace that’s in the hollow of my throat. His fingertip is hot, pulsating, making me shiver as he draws it low, down to my breastbone. “Gorgeous, Lily. You’re beautiful.”
His finger slowly traces a path down to my belly, where I have a small gold ring. He touches is. “This is very unexpected for a sweet little untouched virgin,” he says, his voice teasing.
“I got it during freshman Spring Break from college,” I explain to him. “When I was young and had not a care in the world. A lifetime ago, I guess.”
“I like it.” He’s still fingering it slowly, his every touch sending electric sparks into my core. “I like it very much.”
I’m hit with the first pangs of nervousness as I feel his erection grow ever harder between my legs. “What do I do now?”
“Anything you like,” he says to me, his eyes raking hungrily over my curves.
“I’m . . .” I suck in a breath and let it out. “Would you touch me?”
“Take-off your bra,” he instructs me.
Powerless to do anything but what is commanded of me, I reach behind my back, unhook the bra, and let it fall from my body.
His eyes widen slightly, and he licks his lips. He reaches out and touches my breast, very gently, as if he’s sure I’ll disappear the second he makes contact. He cups it, gazing at it with deep passion, the weight of his eyes heavy on my body. I feel like I might break apart from the need of him.
“Goddamn, Lily. These are the most exquisite tits I’ve ever seen.”
He dips his head down and licks at my nipple. The flick of his tongue sends a dagger of pure delight spasming deep inside me. I’ve never felt anything so intense.
Then he opens his mouth and sucks on it as I arch my back, responding to the desire welling inside me. He cups my other breast and starts to move his mouth on my skin, and God, that tongue. It’s enough to make me lose all sense. “Your skin is so sweet,” he mumbles. “Like candy, Lily.”
His warm breath rip
ples on my skin. I thread my fingers through his thick hair and hold him there as his mouth gets hungrier and wilder. “Keep going,” I urge him. “Max. I don’t want to stop.”
He stops and looks up into my eyes. “Lily, are you sure? Here?”
I nod.
He fumbles with the control panel at his right and manages to get the intercom button. “Earl,” he says, his voice breathless. “Change of plans. Take us to my place.”
Then he lifts me easily and places me down upon the bench seat, rolling atop me. And now it’s his skin, hot and slick against mine, his full weight, pressing into me. He’s still kissing my breasts, molding and squeezing them, making me squirm with anticipation. His tongue flicks its way down my breastbone, to my navel. And then he runs his tongue over my belly ring, licking and sucking on it. I let out a shaky breath as I watch him.
His fingers find the band of my panties. He slowly tugs them down, and I lift my ass to allow him to pull them down my legs and to my ankles.
“Spread yourself for me, Lily. Don’t be afraid,” he murmurs, tossing the thong aside as he gazes lustily at my cunt. His hands delve between my legs, spreading me wide, and I’m open to him. I love it. I love the feel of his breath on me. It’s a million times more intense than I thought it would be. I find myself trembling, thinking of how his tongue will feel when it’s on me. “You’re beautiful. I need to taste you there. Okay?”
I nod shyly. “Well, I’ve never—“
“I know. It’s all right,” he says. And I know it is. For some reason, I feel bold, comfortable, because I initiated this. I’m doing this on my terms. And though he’s used to being in control, I feel like he is powerless to do anything but work to please me.
Nibbling on my inner thigh, he gradually works his way upward, his breath raising each and every goosebump along the way. When he reaches the place where my legs meet, he kisses the trimmed hair of my pubis. I feel his hands slide under my ass, lifting me to him, and before I can back out, he begins to kiss my folds.
I know this isn’t all, but it feels like the pinnacle. I can’t imagine a better feeling. This, alone, is enough to make my heart beat nearly out of my chest. If there’s more, I’m sure to explode. And yet every second that passes unfurls a new level of ecstasy. My hand tenses and he must see it because he grabs it at the same time he flicks his tongue over my clit.
