Three years ago . . .
Trevor suckled her pink buds, teasing her, making her writhe until she panted. Mistress B was rolling around with Bruce, her arch nemesis who she can’t seem to get out of her head. They pulled each other’s hair as they cursed each other to hell and back.
“What?” Christopher said an octave above his usual tone with amusement.
Mistress B wasn’t going to take his shit any longer. She grabbed the half empty champagne bottle from the table and whacked it over Bruce’s head.
Christopher laughed boisterously. “I know how she feels. I wish I can do that.”
Bruce grabbed his head. The mistress took advantage by shoving him in the floor. Then she quickly pulled his sweats down to his knees and grabbed the dildo from the row of sex toys on the long table. Mistress B rammed half of the ten inch purple wand in his rectum.
“Holy fucking shit,” Christopher shouted with astonishment. Then, he laughed at the scene. “The last thing Bruce needs is anything else up his ass, but to each his own.”
Bruce yelled out.
“You like it, don’t you?” Mistress B asked sternly as she moved the dildo in and out of him. “Admit it!”
He kept quiet, but he wasn’t fighting it.
“Admit it or I’ll stop, asshole!”
“Bitch,” Bruce sneered.
“Shit,” Christopher chuckled as tears weld in his eyes. He reached over to the phone and pressed the button.
After a few moments, William, the butler came over the intercom. “Yes, sir?”
“William,” Christopher said as he suppressed his laughter. “Ask my brothers to meet me in the study. Tell them I have come across some files that might be of interest to them.”
“Yes, sir.”
Christopher let his laughter go as he leaned back in the chair. It took a few minutes for his younger brothers to join him in the study.
“What is it, Christopher?” Bruce asked as they approached the desk.
“Selena, accidently left me her . . . personal flash drive instead of the one I had asked for.” Christopher informed them smugly. “There are . . . stories on it . . . about us.”
“Oh, yeah?” Trevor inquired. “What kind of stories?” He rounded the desk and stood next to Christopher. Trevor’s curly brown hair was neatly styled.
“I’ll let you two be the judge of that.” Christopher re-read the passage he had just read to them out loud.
When Christopher was finished, he and Trevor laughed their heads off from behind the desk as Bruce stood next to them with a sour expression.
“This isn’t the only story either,” Christopher said between chuckles.
“That one is more than enough,” Bruce stated sternly.
“Oh, come on,” Trevor said with a grin. “Where’s your sense of humor?”
“Here’s one you might like, Bruce,” Christopher began. “The Brut and the Bitch.”
“Oh, good grief!” Bruce exclaimed with disgust and walked to the bar.
“Ah, here’s a good paragraph,” Christopher said with a smirk. “Bruce smacked the mistress’s ass as he pressed his erection against her thigh. She reached up and grabbed the front of his brown hair –”
“Stop it!” Bruce snapped. He dropped ice into a glass.
Christopher and Trevor laughed.
“All right, play the audio that says, Story Time with Mistress B,” Trevor said as he leaned over the laptop.
Christopher clicked on the audio file and turned up the speakers.
“I sashayed into my bedroom after my shower. I pulled the black satin sheets down on the bed,” the sultry voice began. “Then my brown hair got grabbed from behind. Bruce, the bastard, pulled my head back and nicked my cheek. I could feel he was naked. Before I could protest, he shoved me face first onto the bed.”
“There isn’t anything on there about your two?” Bruce snarled over the sultry woman.
Christopher cut the audio. He’d listen to the rest of it later. “Absolutely. Most of the files appear to be about me. I got a chance to skim a few of them before you two came in.”
“Did you recognize the voice, Bruce?” Trevor asked amusement.
“No,” he spat out as he walked around the bar. The ice clinked against the glass of clear liquid.
“Are you sure? I mean you are a bastard. How would Mistress B know that if you’ve never met her?” Trevor asked with a grin as he stood up straight.
Christopher chuckled.
“Go to hell, Trevor,” Bruce sneered and stopped at the side of the desk.
The present . . . Beverly Balsom had called her friend and the building’s maintenance man, Chuck, to look at her kitchen sink faucet. When Chuck started taking the long handle faucet apart, water spurted in his face and on his white tank top. “Argh!” he yelled and dipped down in the floor. He whipped the cabinet door open. Beverly watched him with a smirk on her face as he turned off the water. “I thought you said you turned off the water!” He stood up with a frown. “I thought I
Sunday Mass was enjoyable at St. Joseph’s as usual. In truth, Selena was the only confirmed Catholic among them. When she had joined the family, she had wanted to attend Christmas mass. In an attempt to make her feel welcomed and give her the feeling of having a real family, they had gone with her. It had turned into a weekly family event. They rode in the back of the limo as little Chris Jr. looked around at them in his car seat. His brother’s only son was over a year old now. He was the spitting image of Christopher - hair and all. Hudson men has had brown hair for at least a hundred years. Different varieties of brown, yes, but brown nonetheless. They pulled up to the Van Dyke mansion. Just like the Hudsons, the Van Dykes were blue bloods – from an ol
One week later . . . Beverly and Isaiah Green walked into the ballroom arm in arm fifteen minutes after six. There had to be over a hundred people in the room. Isaiah’s fade was on point and the black tux fitted his five-foot nine frame well for a rental. Beverly wore a red dress that hugged her thighs and legs all the way to her knees. The straps of the dress went behind her neck. Her cleavage was smashed together and showed through the wide cut. Her shoulder length hair was loosely curled and brushed out. At one time, her hair was short, above her ears. When Selena had gotten engaged to her now husband, she had asked Beverly to let her hair grow out a little for the wedding. Beverly was her matron of honor. Beverly had agreed thinking she would cut it after the wedding. But, she had discovered during her growing out phase that
Beverly had gone to the bathroom. There was no one around – not even William. She took the liberty to look around. She had only been to the Hudson Estate a few times and most of those times she had been confined to the ballroom. She quietly and carefully walked down the hall. She found the den, but she didn’t linger there. It didn’t look very interesting. Beverly walked to a room she knew. The study. She had been in there twice. The first time was a few months ago when Trevor and Joanna had given her an exclusive interview on their nuptials. Beverly hadn’t had a chance to really look around. That room looked like it held some secrets. The second time had been when Beverly and Selena broke into it three years ago to retrieve the flash drive that held their fantasy erotic fiction about the Hudson brothers. They had been ca
One week later . . . Beverly walked out of the coffee shop. She had to get a jolt of writer’s juice and a bagel before she passed out. She had skipped breakfast. Now she was on her way to Manhattan to interview NFL football player, Nate Fellows of the Philadelphia Eagles. They were going to meet at a restaurant. Her SUV was in the shop. It had started making a weird sound. She left it with the mechanic for a few hours for him to sort out what it was.She saw a yellow cab parked across the street. She quickly jaywalked to the waiting vehicle that had its sign on. Opening the back door, she started telling the driver where she wanted to go the same time some guy was getting in on the other side talking over her.“Hey,”
Beverly had just finished giving her statement to the cop in uniform. Her black tights were ruined, but it kept her legs and knees from getting scraped up. Half her palm was red from where she had caught herself falling all the way on the ground when that jerk mugger slung her to the ground. All in all she was fine – physically. Bruce was talking to a sergeant in uniform. Beverly began walking up the sidewalk to them. As she was, two EMTs wheeled the mugger on a gurney pass Bruce and the cop. “God damn,” the sergeant eased out. “You said you roughed him up a little.” The mugger’s eyes were crossed. Cotton was up his nose and his upper lip looked
Bruce whipped the Jaguar around the Floyd Bennett hangers. It had been an airport years ago. Then he slowed up as they were heading straight to a hanger that had the doors open and light was coming from it. Bruce drove in the hanger and he turned the wheel, sliding the car to a screeching halt. Beverly’s body whipped side to side as the car stopped. She whirled her neck to look at him. “Well?” he inquired with an eyebrow up. She be damned if she admit he could drive his ass off. “You’re a cocky bastard,” she stated flatly.&n
A few days later . . . Bruce stopped by Coco Blanchet’s fashion design offices to see Joanna. She was surprised, yet happy to see him. “You’ve never been here before. What do you think of my office?” Bruce looked around at the beige walls and easel like desk on the side of the room, the regular brown desk at the back of the room, the large window looking out at the city, the thick rose colored carpet, rows of fabric on a shelf, and three partial mannequins. “It looks like you do a lot of work here as well as at home.” Joanna had a sewing room at the mansion in the west
The next day . . . Bruce and Beverly were on the Hudson jet heading back to New York. Beverly had disappeared to use the restroom. Bruce checked his messages as he waited for her. Jim, Katie, and Eddie wanted to stay in Las Vegas for another few days. Bruce had told them sure and kept the rooms on his credit card. He had told them to put anything they wanted at The Palms on the rooms account. He would take care of the bill.It looked like cell reception had been restored in New York early that morning. His brothers had sent him several texts around eight a.m., asking where he was and was he all right.“Oh, Mr. Hudson,” Beverly sang. “I have some champagne here.”“In a second, Mrs. Hudson,” Bruce said as he
Chapel of Flowers Las Vegas, NevadaIt had all been relatively easy to arrange. Bruce and Beverly got a marriage license, which only took twenty minutes. Beverly had seen a wedding chapel online and loved the pictures on the website. She had called the Chapel of Flowers and asked if they could do a wedding that afternoon. The woman had said yes. Beverly had gone to a boutique at the mall and bought a white dress. Bruce had suits in his suitcase. Eddie had gotten a suit at a men’s store at the same mall Beverly had purchased her dress.The chapel had marble mosaic floors, oversized crystal chandeliers, and light gray shimmering wallpaper. The crystal beaded curtains with dual glass mirrored silver pillars created a romantic ambience.When the wedding march played, Jim and Katie stood fro
The night was warm, but not humid – perfect night for a swim. The above ground pool was slightly illuminated with soft white light. Rich had lit two tiki torches to keep the bugs away.Beverly’s red bikini had thick straps and V-shaped cut cleavage. The bottoms showed the slight curve of her butt cheeks. The color looked good on her. Rich wore black swim trunks that were a little loose on him. His sandy-blondish hair looked good wet. Actually, his entire body looked good – and sexy wet. They swam around for a few minutes and met back at the edge of the pool to sip their beers. Rich had carried the cooler to the pool and sat it on the deck. “This is nice,” Beverly
Tonight, Rich had invited Beverly to his place for dinner. He had fried crocodile meat and grilled corn on the cob on the gas grill on his back deck. There was a cooler full of beer and the radio played rock tunes. Rich like rock music. Beverly liked it, too, but she mostly preferred R&B and Hip Hop. She listened to country music once in a while. “Mmm,” Beverly groaned as she chewed the last piece of meat. “I don’t know if crocodile taste better than I thought it would or you’re just a good cook.” Rich chuckled. “The latter.” Beverly smiled. “Such a modest man.” R
The day of the wedding . . . Croc Land was full of tourists by ten o’clock. Eddie was helping Jim give tours of the farm. Melanie was running the shop and collecting people’s money for the tour. Joey had opened the mini café in the back of the shop. Their cousin, Mark, was helping him. Beverly walked out to the pin next to the swamp. She stood with the tourists who were watching Rich bait a crocodile out of the water. He quickly turned to Beverly like he had sensed her there. He winked at her and quickly turned his attention back to the approaching crocodile. She grinned. Rich was a pretty cool guy. He had made her laugh most of the day yesterday
Most of the traffic had cleared up, to Bruce’s relief. He made it to Beverly’s apartment in reasonable time. He carried his gift for her in a medium size shopping bag with wood paper handles. It was after midnight when he approached her door. He could hear the muffled sounds of music through the door. He rang the doorbell and then banged on it several times. “Beverly!” he called desperately. Bruce beat on the door again. The door swung open. It was a guy with blond hair and blue eyes. He was wearing tight jeans and a red shirt with a collar. “Who the hell are you?” he asked with a frown. “The man who owns the fucking building,” Bruce sneered at t
Over a hundred and thirty people had been invited to the party. Bruce had estimated that there were forty-seven left. The clock just struck eleven and he wasn’t waiting any longer. It was best for him and Catherine to get this over with – no matter how she took the news. Besides, all of his personal friends had left thirty minutes ago, so they wouldn’t get caught in the crossfire. Trevor had said in the study that he would explain what was going on to Christopher and the girls discretely. The Hudson family had played their part and acted like nothing was amiss after Trevor had clued them in. Bruce and Trevor had thought it best to not to tell them about his relationship with Beverly until Bruce had convinced Beverly to take him back. Plus, Bruce suspected the family wouldn’t be able to contain their shock when they learn
Mr. and Mrs. Carlton T. Van Dyke invite you to the guests’ welcome cocktail party on the eve of the wedding betweenCatherine Alexis Van Dyke and Bruce Belford Hudson.Join us for the semi-formal social event at the Van Dyke Mansion on June 10th at eight o’clock. Bruce was cussing like a sailor by the time he brought his Bentley to a complete halt half an inch in front of the parking valet in front of the Van Dyke Mansion. The valet’s eyes widened like his life had flashed before his eyes. Bruce had driven the car long enough to know what it could do and what it couldn’t do. The valet was in no danger of getting hit. Bruce had gotten caught in traffic. A city bus’s break
Bruce was sitting in the barber’s chair in the small barbershop room in the south wing of the Hudson mansion. William was giving him an Italian shave before the welcome party tonight. The normally had a barber come out to the mansion to cut their hair. His father had asked their mother to create one because going to the barbershop had started to annoy him. William glided the blade down Bruce’s jaw. “I . . . have some news, sir.” “I hope it’s good news. I could use good news right now,” Bruce mumbled. He didn’t want to move his face too much with a sharp blade on it. “Hopefully, you’ll see it as good news,” William said and took the bl