by Kylie Parker
I just got busted banging my brother’s girl, but it’s not like I knew! Damn; this is bad. I had never met his girlfriend. I should really pay attention to Eddie when he talks; did he tell me she was a writer? I don’t remember. He always called her Tiffany –how the hell did I not make the connection between Tiff and Tiffany? Stupid! “Eddie, it’s not what you think-” I hear Tiffany say, and it is the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard. What the hell is it then? He saw it! There is no taking that crap back. He saw it, and she’s trying to convince him it didn’t happen.
Eddie won’t look at her. He stares past her at me, and I am just trying to hide the fact I’m still hard. He suddenly breaks his stare to look at her and say, “Get your stupid ass off my property before I have security drag you out, you stupid slut!”
“Eddie!” She pleads and tries to touch him, and he yanks his arm back.
“Get lost!” He snaps, “Or I swear I’ll beat the shit out of you.”
From the look in her eye, she knows she’s messed up big time. As far as she probably knows, Eddie is just as rich as me –I’m sure she thought she had found herself a true sugar daddy. Well, she screwed up this time. “Fine!” she snaps and then points a finger in his face, “He’s way better than you, by the way –at least he can find my g-spot!”
Shit. Well, thanks for that –as if he’s not already going to be pissed at me. She leaves, and Eddie just shoots me this eat shit look. “Man, I didn’t know-” I start to say, but he just turns around and heads out of the office.
There is no way I’m going to let him just walk off like that. He’s got so much going on with him right now. He’s broke, he’s got family problems, and now he’s suddenly single thanks to me. I hurry down the thankfully deserted hallways after him. “Eddie,” I catch up with him and put my hand on his shoulder.
He spins around suddenly and throws a fist into my face. He about knocks me off my feet, but I thankfully manage to stay on my feet. “Stay the hell away from me!”
My temper swells, and I grab him by his shirt collar, “What the hell, man? You punched me in my face!” He swings at me around, but I manage to block his swing with my shoulder. Eddie may be my older brother, but he’s nowhere near as strong as I am. I grab his arms and ram him into the wall, pinning him there, “Knock it off!” I shout.
“Get your hands off me!” He shouts, “Let go!”
“You need to chill!” I snap, “Listen, Eddie, I didn’t know that-” He head-butts me. He actually head-butts me right in the nose. I swear I see red. I grab him by his hair and grip one of his arms before throwing him to the ground and giving him a kick in the side.
I think I knocked the air out of him. He coughs, and he stays on the ground and holds up a hand to let me know he’s done. I would call this an over-reaction on my part, and I feel like shit. I go to help him stand, but he slaps my hand away, “Just leave me alone, James.” He stands up on his own and straightens his suit. He stretches his back and exhales loudly. “You’re not as sexy as you think you are.” He grumbles.
I know this is not going to help, but I can’t help myself. I laugh. “Oh really?”
“You know what? Forget you, man.” Eddie says, “It’s like you exist purely to screw with me. Every shitty thing that has ever happened to me has been because of you!”
“I’ve never done a thing to you-”
“You slept with my girlfriend!” He shouts.
“That’s on her.” I say, “I didn’t know she was your girlfriend.”
“I didn’t say you knew,” Eddie says, “And I don’t really care whether you did or not. You’re a horny son of a bitch who does things without thinking. You never stop and think that what you do affects people around you. You were late this morning. You gamble with our stocks. You’re fucking our competition on the side. You’re an irresponsible asshole!”
“This business is doing great. I’m not irresponsible. I’m just not a stiff.” I say, “You got to lighten up. You’ve always been like this. You always act like you have something you got to prove.”
“Why the hell do you think I’m like that?” Eddie questions, “Dad always treated you like the favorite. I always thought it was because you were better than me, but now I know he just didn’t give a shit about me because I wasn’t his kid. You’re not better than me. You’re just a lucky shit with a billion dollar inheritance.”
“Dad didn’t treat you any different from me. And where is this coming from all of a sudden anyways?” I ask. “You’re acting like a real tool.”
“You slept with my girlfriend!” he shouts, “I’m done with this shit! I’m going back to the factory. You can run today’s events on your own, hot shot. I got the paperwork back at the office anyways.” He storms off.
I try to talk him into staying, but he won’t have it. He’s done with me for today. I can’t really blame him. I really messed up this time.
Chapter Seven
I am lying on my back, staring up at the ceiling of a nice home in Beverly Hills. I am in Éclair’s bedroom, staring up at the silver colored ceiling. Everything in her home is basically silver and pink in keeping with her company’s logo. Éclair is under the sheets, her mouth wrapped around my cock. She does not normally hand out blow jobs to me, but she is particularly feisty today. I’m not that into it, and I think she is starting to notice.
My suspicion is confirmed when she suddenly unlatches from me and comes out from under the blankets. She looks really annoyed, “All right, what’s going on with you?” she hisses. I’m momentarily distracted by her breasts; they’re so damn perfect. Her stomach is nice and toned. She crosses her arms. “Well?” she asks.
“I’m sorry,” I say and sit up, coming face to face with her as she is seated on her knees between me.
“What’s going on?” she asks.
“None of your business,” I say, and she grabs me by me testicles. “Damn it, Éclair, don’t you fucking dare-”
She gives me a slight squeeze. “James-” she says my name firmly.
“All right! Geeze, let go, you stupid skank!” I shout, and she lets go. Fuck this woman. “I got into it with Eddie yesterday.”
She touches me under my right eye, and I flinch slightly as she pokes my bruise, “Does that have anything to do with it?”
“Yeah.” I slap her hand away.
“So when you say you two got into it, you really mean that you got into it, huh?” she questions, and I just grumbled under my breath. “What was it about this time?” she asks.
“It’s your fault,” I say, and she laughs.
“Oh, I’m confident of that.” She says, “He does not like our… complicated friendship.”
“No, I mean, it’s really your fault. You made me late for the opening of that gym.” I say.
“Did I?” she asks in a blatantly sarcastic tone that tells me that, yes, she had done it intentionally. She shakes her head, “That does not warrant a punch in the face. Especially not from Eddie. He is a lot more even tempered than you. So, tell me, what did you do, James?”
I exhale loudly and lean back onto some pink, fluffy pillows. “There was this reporter there that was nagging at me. She writes for some blog. We went back to my new on-scene office, and we slept together-” I pause. Is it okay for me to have this conversation with Éclair? Our relationship has never been romantic. We have always just been friends with benefits, but it’s sort of strange talking about this sort of thing with a woman I bed with on a regular basis.
“Would you relax?” she notices my discomfort, “I’m a big girl, James; I can handle you talking about your little flings.”
Well, I suppose it is okay then. I continue, “We were… in the act… then Eddie walked in on us. Turns out the woman was Eddie’s new girlfriend he has been trying to introduce me to.”
“Damn.” She laughs. “Way to go, James. You are the horniest bastard I’ve ever met. We had just slept together the night before your gym opened. Now you’re back in here with me after that? W
hat’s wrong with you?”
“It’s not funny, Éclair,” I say.
“So what happened next?” Éclair asks, “Did he just start whaling on you after catching you both?”
“Ugh… it escalated really quickly.” I say, “He dumped her, so she got mad and told him I was… more impressive.”
Éclair starts laughing. She really hates Eddie. “That’s golden.”
“Why am I even talking to you about this?” I snap, “If you’re going to be like that-”
“No, no. You’re right. I’m sorry.” She says and places a hand on my shoulder. She slumps down on top of some fluffy pillows next to me and tells me to continue.
I tell her the whole story. I tell her how I ran after Eddie, how he punched me in the face when I wouldn’t leave him alone, me still being an idiot and not leaving him alone –resulting in him head butting me in the nose, and then me beating the shit out of him in the hallway. Then I get serious, talking about mine and Eddie’s conversation about our old man that had followed. She listens to the entire tale with a serious look on her face. When I am finished talking, she is just staring blankly at me. “Well?” I ask after we spend a considerable amount of time in absolute silence, “What should I do?”
“Seems to me like you need to make some sort of grand gesture.” Éclair says, “He’s insecure because of what happened after your dad died. He is obviously having some sort of identity crisis. I mean, how couldn’t he? He suddenly finds out he is the result of infidelity, that the man he thought was his father didn’t really give a shit about him, and that he has this whole other family out there who are nothing but a bunch of money-hungry losers who are trying to suck him dry like damn leeches. And here you are, the only family member who ever treats him half decently, and you slept with his girl. You’re his younger brother, and you practically own him. He’s insecure, and he has a serious inferiority complex all because your father decided to give Eddie a big middle finger from beyond the grave. Do something to show him you don’t think little of him. To show him that he’s worth something to you. That you respect him as your older sibling.”
Well, that was certainly a mouth full. “I guess so.” Is the only response I am able to come up with? A grand gesture? What should I do? I think she is right, though. Eddie has had a real hard time in the past couple of years. His obnoxious little brother swiped pretty much the entire inheritance. Honestly, I’m kind of pissed at my dad for treating Eddie that way. Neither of us had any idea that shit was coming. Dad had always given Eddie a harder time, but I had just always assumed it was because Eddie was the older brother –that Eddie was not the goofy screw-up, so he expected more from Eddie than he did me. Turns out, Dad just didn’t know how to handle the fact that Eddie wasn’t his kid. He couldn’t treat us the same because we weren’t. I was his son, not Eddie. Eddie was probably a constant reminder that his wife had slept around. But he had raised him nonetheless. I can’t imagine what Eddie is going through right now.
“Well, since we are clearly not going to be having sex tonight, how about we talk business instead?” Éclair says, more than happy to ruin the moment. “I thought I would have my lawyers draw up a contract –just for you to look at, nothing you need to commit to or anything like that-”
“Shut the hell up.” I say, “I’m not selling the company. And I’m done talking about this to you.” I jump up on my knees and grab her by her waist, throwing her down onto her back and slamming into her with a sudden and abrupt force.
“Tu m'excites!” She cries. I’m annoyed as hell at her, and I think it's showing through my violent movements, but she is eating it up. “Damn it, James!” she groans as I shake her bed. I don’t respond; I just go faster and harder. I’m so pissed off at her –making me late for my gym opening intentionally and always trying to convince me to sell my company. I’m not too interested in making this pleasurable for her so much for me this time around. She is still into it nonetheless. Éclair is an amazing woman –too bad she annoys the hell out of me.
Chapter Eight
Office work. I could stab my eyes out with a pen as I sit behind my desk aimlessly responding to emails and filling out paperwork. Sometimes I wonder if Eddie would have been better suited for this crap. I lean back in my chair and rub my temples. I am so bored. I pull out my cell phone after hearing it go off. Much to my pleasure, Éclair is up for some dirty sexting. Thank God. She knows me really well. I had told her I had a long day at the office coming up, so I know she is doing this for my benefit. We text back and forth as I work, and I can feel a tingling sensation in my pants. I have to avoid texting her back for several minutes to keep from getting a serious hard on while I’m working. That’s the last thing I need, although I’ll probably be alone in my office for most of the day.
Suddenly the phone goes off again, and I receive really filthy pictures of Éclair in her office without her panties on –showing off her hips, but that’s it. Is she serious? That’s so not cool. A new text arrives: Send me one, and I’ll send you something steamier. Damn, woman! What am I supposed to send her? Chest picture? A cock shot? I decide to go for a chest picture. I hurry out of button up and stand to take a picture. I take two and then choose my favorite. As I am sitting back down, still without my shirt on, Eddie comes barging into my office. He looks angry, but the look disappears for a second as a look of confusion replaces it. “Um?” he says.
“Uh, I was cutting a tag off my shirt. Forgot to lock the door. Sorry.” I say, and I am a little proud of the excuse as I hurried to get my shirt back on and buttoned up.
Eddie rolls his eyes, marches up to my desk, and slams his paycheck down on my desk, his anger returning to him, “What the hell is this, James?”
“What?” I question once I finish buttoning myself back into my shirt.
“You gave me a raise?” he asks.
Why the hell is he angry about that? “Well, yeah,” I say. “You’ve earned it.”
“I’ve earned it?” he asks. He looks so pissed. What the hell did I do? Eddie bangs a fist down on my desk, “Listen, you think that giving me a fucking raise is going to make you sleeping with my girlfriend go away? I’m not her damn pimp.”
“What?” I stand up, “Eddie; that’s not it at all!”
“What, then?” He asks, “Is it because you found out I am in debt? Is this some sort of charity?”
“Charity?” I say, “Man, you got it all wrong. I was just trying to-”
“To what?” he snarls.
“To show you you’re worth something to me,” I say.
“That’s cute.” He rolls his eyes, “This is just you flaunting your money again. This is bullshit.”
“That’s not it!” I shout.
“Yes, it fucking is.” He says, “You always do shit like this. Meanwhile, I’m stuck running your stupid factory.”
I stare at him. He’s wearing a factory worker's uniform, and he’s covered in filth from working the bottom end of the business. Sure, he does half my job too, but looking at him you would probably assume he’s just some damn factory guy. I shouldn’t have given him a raise. I should have given him a damn promotion. He doesn’t want more money. He wants more responsibility with our father’s business. Our father –not my father. He feels like he got shorted, and he did. I can’t deny that. Eddie seriously got screwed. Sure, I gave him a job, but I gave him a pretty shitty one. Assistant to the PR department –he’s not even the head guy. And the head factory manager. That sucks. It really sucks. He thought he would be co-inheriting a billion dollar company, and he got stuck doing the grunge work. He works the mail room some days, for crying out loud. When Éclair told me to make a grand gesture, that was what she meant. She did not mean for me to give him a stupid raise.
“Look, you’re right.” I say, “I should give you a lot more credit-”
“Awe, shut the hell up, James.” He says, “I spent my summers here in the office with Dad while you spent your time chasing bimbo girls around. I worked here. I s
at with Dad in this same office every weekend learning the business. I know more about this company than you could ever hope to learn. I understand the stocks. I understand what goes into every trivial piece of keeping this place together. And all of that time was wasted. I was always trying to impress him. I was always the good one!”
“The good one?” I question, “So what did that make me?”
“The fucking screw up!” he shouts, “That’s what you have always been. You were the lazy asshole who spent his money. I was the responsible one. I was the one learning the business. And what did I get after wasting my entire fucking childhood with my nose up his ass? A measly check, a summer house that floods when it rains, and a damn letter telling me he was just playing pretend with me my whole life –that I should consider myself lucky to be included in his will at all and to treat my legitimate brother with some respect. He didn’t even tell me he was sorry or that he loved me or anything in that stupid letter. It was cold. And what do you do? You give me a job where I watch over a bunch of high school dropouts while they sort vitamin pills and where I get bitched out by your PR rep every other day. Do you have any idea how fucking demeaning my life is?”
“Look, I was just trying to-”
“Save it.” He snarls, “I am taking the day off.” He storms out of my office and slams the door behind him.
I slump down into my seat; he left his paycheck sitting on my desk. I feel like an idiot. I look at the picture sitting on my desk. It was one of me and my dad when I was a kid. It was my dad’s old office, and I had found the picture when I had come to clear out his stuff after learning that I would be taking over the company. It did not occur to me at the time, but I realize now that there had been no pictures of Eddie in that box of supplies I had carted off on my first day. Just a wedding photo of Dad with Mom, and this stupid picture of the two of us in fishing hats from when I was ten. Had Dad treated Eddie like shit his whole life? Looking back, it seems kind of obvious. I had not noticed back then. Honestly, I just always noted that Mom treated Eddie really well. Now I realize she only did that to make up for how crappy our old man was towards him. I slam the frame facing downward so that I don’t have to look at it.
