Chapter 2

            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 had,” she said in a light tone, feigning innocence. She walked over to him. “Let me put that shirt in the dryer downstairs. You’ll catch a cold walking around with a damp shirt.”

            Chuck’s blond eyebrow cocked up. Then he smirked. He raised his arms up in the air. He knew the drill.

            Beverly pulled his top out of his denim jeans and over his head. She held it in her hand as she smiled at him.

            Chuck had a muscular physique, six pack included. He wasn’t tanned, but he would look strange with a tan considering his blond hair. “Why do you make me go through this song and dance? When you want to fuck, all you have to do is tell me.”

            “What would be the fun in that?” Beverly said with a smile.

            Chuck laughed as he took her in his arms. Beverly dropped the shirt as they came together in a searing kiss. Chuck’s kiss was rough, yet hot. He turned her around as he was kissing her and backed her against the counter. Then he raised his head.

            They stared into each other’s eyes as Chuck pulled the sash of her burgundy robe. He took two steps back.

            Beverly opened the robe to reveal her naked body. She shrugged out the robe and let it drop to her bare feet. Chuck attacked her D cups with vigor, smashing them together and burying his face between them. He started laying wet smooches on them before he took a brown nipple in his mouth. His tongue lapped across it until it was semi-hard. Chuck let his hands glide down her waist as he dragged his face down her body, getting on one knee before her.

            Beverly widened her stance an inch, giving him access to her hairless pussy. Chuck’s mouth grazed her plump lips, working them open to her clit. He rapidly licked it as his middle finger opened her folds below. Beverly leaned her head back, breathing heavily. He gently fingered her as he ate. Chuck was breathing hard. His hot breath grazed her skin. She gripped the edge of the counter as she moaned.

            She was on the edge of cumming when he stopped. She moaned in protest.

            “Don’t worry, I’m not done yet,” Chuck said huskily as he rose. He grabbed her by the waist and lifted her up to sit on the edge of the counter. “Open the package downstairs to see what I got for you.”

            Beverly knew what it was all too well. She unbuttoned his jeans and quickly unzipped them. Then she shoved them down his hips along with his white Haynes. His pale five-inch erection bobbed about. Chuck grabbed the wayward rod. Beverly spread her legs wide. Chuck began to dock, easing in.

             “Oh,” Beverly moaned with relief once he was all the way in. She was hornier than a whore at a Chippendale show.

            Chuck groaned with approval. He started to slowly pump in her.

            Beverly leaned back on the counter. Chuck grabbed one breast and started squeezing it on and off. There was one benefit in living in a shithole studio apartment in the Bronx and that was having a sexy maintenance man who was ready, willing, and able at all times.

            “Ah,” he sighed with pleasure. “Nothing like a friend with benefits.”

            “I’ll say,” Beverly moaned. “Now give me that dick the way I know you can.”

Chuck he picked up the pace.

****

            Bruce Hudson and Catherine Van Dyke had just finished dinner on a rental yacht. Bruce had rented it for the night because he wanted the evening to be memorable for Catherine and he wanted the utmost privacy. He had been dating the lawyer who was born from a prominent and rich New York City family for a little over a year.

            It was the end of February, so it was too cold to eat on the deck. They were dining in the yacht’s living room - a table set for two with candlelight. The waiter had opened a fresh bottle of Dom Perignon and refilled their champagne classes. He placed the bottle back in the sliver ice bucket and left them.

            Chef Alex came in carrying a platter with a silver cover like Bruce had ordered. Chef Alex was head chef at the Hudson Estate outside of the city. Bruce didn’t want to take a chance on a chef he didn’t know. Tonight had to be perfect. The sous chefs were handling dinner tonight for his family back at the mansion.

            Bruce thought the night and the food were going to be spoiled when Catherine had called and said she was running late – two hours late. She had gotten caught up with a client.

            “I know you usually skip dessert unless it’s a special occasion,” Bruce said as Alex sat the serving tray down in front of Catherine. “But, this is a special occasion.”

            Alex quickly left them.

            “Is it? Your birthday was in November and mine won’t be for another seven months,” Catherine said with a little smile. She had short, thick blonde hair and bluish-hazel like eyes. Catherine looked like a proper sophisticated woman in her silk dark blue blouse and black floor length skirt.

            “That’s true. Your question will be answered if you take the top off the plate,” Bruce said with a small smile.

            She gave him a curious look and then looked down at the cover. She lifted it up and away to reveal it was filled with red rose pedals with a small white box in the middle. Her mouth dropped open as she slowly sat the cover down on the round table. A big smile spread across her lips. She had perfect straight teeth.

            Bruce stood. “Aren’t you going to open it?” he asked as he made his way to her.

            “I . . . I . . . don’t think I can,” she stammered. She was definitely shocked. She never stuttered. “You might have to do it for me.”

            Bruce grinned as he picked up the box. He got down on one knee in front of her. “Catherine, this past year has been wonderful. I can’t imagine a better companion by my side.” He opened the white box to reveal a square two carat diamond with a white gold band. He didn’t dare get anything bigger than that. Catherine had commented many times that jewels larger than three carats were obnoxious and braggadocios.

            “Oh my,” she whispered. She placed her hand on her chest.

            “Catherine Alexis Van Dyke, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

            “Oh my god,” she heaved out. “Yes. Yes, I will.”

            Bruce took her hand and placed the ring on her finger. “Do you like the ring? If not, we can exchange it for something different.”

            “I love it. It’s perfect,” Catherine said with joy. “You knew I would love it when you bought it. You know me so well.”

            That’s because you’re not complicated like a lot of other women.

            Catherine scooted her chair back and leaned down to give him a big hug.

            Bruce was slightly surprised by the gesture. Catherine wasn’t the most affectionate woman. But then again, he wasn’t overly affectionate outside of the bedroom himself.

            “I love you very much,” Catherine said over his shoulder.

            His brown eyes widened. She had never said she loved him before - not that he didn’t feel the same way. He just never had the urge to say it before – out loud. “I love you, too.”

            Catherine pulled back a little and gave him a smooch on the lips. “I can’t believe it,” she said breathlessly. “We’re getting married.”

            “Well, of course. You didn’t think I would propose eventually? We’ve been together for over a year, now.”

            “I know, but you’re so careful and measured in regards to the things you do. I thought I would have to wait at least another six months,” she admitted.

            “What you said is true, but I also move in when I know something for sure. And I know for sure you and I belong together,” Bruce said. He kissed her. His arms wrapped around her waist. He had to be careful not to be too rough where her lips got pouty. She didn’t like the pouty lip feeling. He cupped her face as he tasted mouth. She was so soft and warm inside. He groaned.

            Catherine broke the kiss. “We better stop before we go too far.”

            “Let’s go too far. It is our engagement night,” Bruce suggested and moved in for another kiss but she rocked her head back swiftly.

            “What about the staff? They could come in at any minute,” Catherine whispered.

            “Not a problem. I’ll just get on the phone and tell them not to disturb us for the next hour . . . or two,” he said with a little grin.

            One of her arms left his shoulder. She looked at her watch. “It’s after nine. We should use what time we have left to talk about the wedding.”

            “What time we have left? Do you have another date at ten?” he quipped.

            She chuckled. “I have to be at the office at six to brief with my co-chair and paralegals. Then I have to be in court at eight.”

            “No problem. I have the yacht all night. So . . . you can sleep here after –”

            “Bruce, you know I have a hard time sleeping in a strange place on a strange mattress,” Catherine said in a low tone. Then she quickly let go of him and stood up.

Bruce took that as his cue to get up as well.

“I need all the rest I can get for tomorrow,” she stated as she walked away from the table. She walked to the couch and grabbed her purse. “Now, when do you want to get married?” She pulled out her blackberry.

Bruce exhaled as his cock demanded satisfaction. But, he knew her. When she wasn’t in the mood or her mind was occupied with other things there was no changing it. He pulled his blackberry out of his pocket.

“My mother is going to want us to have an engagement party. How is the second week of March for that? The twelfth?” She asked as she looked at the blackberry.

“That’s a Saturday. Should be fine,” Bruce said as he looked at his calendar.

“It’s a date,” she announced. “But, can we have it at the Hudson Estate? My parents’ mansion is big, but we don’t have our own ballroom.”

“It should be fine,” Bruce said.

“Wonderful. I’ll let my mother and sister, Constance, take care of the details for that.”

“They really should consult with Selena – because of the guests’ list. We can’t just have your friends and family there,” he joked.

She chirped out a laugh. “Of course. I’ll make a note to remind me to tell Mother to call Selena. How about we get married in the early fall? Like in October?”

Bruce mumbled under his breath. “That’s eight months away. I rather get married a little sooner than that.”

“Oh, can’t wait, huh?” she said with a smile in her voice.

Bruce looked up. She was smiling “Not really. I think we’ve waited long enough. No reason to dally.”

“I agree,” she said and looked back down at her blackberry.

Bruce did the same.

“April on the weekends is clear, but that’s way too soon. I wouldn’t be able to book a church or a venue that soon.”

“I have a stockholders’ meeting in May and the Chinese partners will be in the country that month, too,” Bruce said. The Hudson Group was a real estate and development company who had international partners. The Chinese came to New York every few months to touch base. It was Bruce’s job to keep them happy and rolling in money as the VP of International Relations and Projects.

“And there are quite a few social events we should appear at in May, too. What about the second weekend of June?” Catherine suggested.

“Hmm,” Bruce looked at his calendar for June. “Looks good.”

“Excellent,” she said with victory in her tone. “It will still be early in the summer – it won’t be too hot. I’ll tell my parents after I get out of court tomorrow, which should be around eleven o’clock. Since we’re here we better schedule a day and time for your family to come over to my parents’ house to iron out all the wedding details, the engagement party and the amount of guests.”

            “Right. What about this Sunday afternoon at noon? We’ll all be in the city since mass ends at eleven-thirty.”

            “That sounds good. We can all have lunch and discuss it,” Catherine said as she hit the buttons on her blackberry.

            Bruce scheduled the lunch day and time.

            “Okay, I better get going,” Catherine said as she put her phone back in her purse.

            “I’ll walk you out,” Bruce said.

            Bruce and Catherine exchange a cute kiss before she zoomed off in her white Beamer. He started climbing the steps back onto the yacht. He wanted to make sure he didn’t forget anything before he left. If he knew Catherine had to rush off in advance, he wouldn’t have spent the extra ten grand to reserve the yacht for the whole night.

            The Hudsons - as a family didn’t own a yacht. The upkeep of a yacht cost a fortune every year and it was an asset that depreciated in value. However, his second brother, Trevor, owned a small yacht for his own pleasure.

            Bruce walked back into the living room.

            Chef Alex was collecting what was left of the dishes on the table. “Ah, Master Bruce. May I ask how it went?”

            Bruce cocked his head at the thirty-something chef with the big nose. “You may, I suppose.”

            “How did it go?” he asked with anticipation.

            “Quite well. She said yes.”

            “That’s marvelous, sir.”

            “I have to say I’m surprised you actually care,” He knew the mansion staff hated him because he held them accountable for their mistakes and he never held back when he did.

            “Well, sir, I’m a sucker for romance. I think it is from the years I lived in France studying culinary.”

            Bruce nodded. Alex had cultivated his culinary talents in the south, France, and Spain.

            “Will that be all for the night, sir?”

            “Yes, once you and the waiter finish cleaning up, go home. I’ll see you in the morning,” Bruce said.

            “Yes, sir.”

            Ten minutes later, Bruce drove around the city. It was something he did sometimes. If he didn’t drive around, he would park the car for an hour or two and walk a few blocks. He didn’t feel like letting the cold surround him tonight. His private time in his car and walking the streets helped clear his head and relax him a little.

            Two hours later, he arrived home. Everyone was in bed already except William, the butler who was starting to get past middle- aged.

            “Good evening, sir,” William greeted as he opened the front door.

            “Good evening,” Bruce mumbled. Sometimes Bruce wondered if William ever slept. Eight years ago, for the hell of it, Bruce rang William at three o’clock in the morning to see if he would answer. And he be damned if he did on the third ring. He hadn’t even sounded groggy.

            William helped Bruce take his black overcoat off. “Will you be needing anything before I retire for the evening, sir?”

            “No,” Bruce answered plainly.

            “Have a good night, sir,” William said.

            Bruce walked away from him. He was going to bed.

            A quickie would have been nice tonight. Oh, well. All’s well that ends well in the end - I guess.

****

            Bruce’s alarm buzzed at five a.m. like it did every weekday morning. And he got up without hitting the snooze button as usual. He yawned as he stretched his arms out wide. Then he walked into the bathroom. After he deposited the night’s build up in the commode, he ran a cold wash cloth over his face. Then he changed out of his red cotton pajamas into a pair of blue loose fitting shorts and a long yellow tank top.

            He quietly walked down the hall and downstairs to the gym. Sometimes Bruce went out to a gym and bought a day pass, but his normal weekday regimen was to work out at home. Bruce stretched for ten minutes in the state of the art gym. Then he got on the treadmill, slowly building up to a run. He had the gym to himself between the hours of five-thirty to six-thirty. At six-thirty Christopher came down and worked out for thirty to forty-five minutes. Trevor worked out in the evenings or before he went to bed on various days.

            Bruce’s medium thick brown hair was wet with sweat. If he didn’t gel it back, his straight hair would fall in his face, like it was now. After a twenty minute run, he grabbed a bottled water from the gym refrigerator and guzzled half of it. Then he poured the rest over his head. There was a black wet mat in the refreshment area so the water didn’t get all over the floor. Then he began his favorite part of his workout. Weights. After pumping some serious iron for thirty minutes he checked out his bulky, muscled physique in the wall length mirror.

            “Not bad for a guy who turned thirty several months ago,” he mumbled as he looked in the mirror. He was the shortest Hudson brother, but he definitely had more muscle mass – and he was the strongest.

            Bruce left the gym and went back to his room to shower and change. He put on a black suit with a gray and white striped shirt and a black tie. His black Italian suede shoes didn’t have a spot or a piece of lent on them. William was good at keeping his shoes up to par. He went downstairs to the dining room. Bruce didn’t expect breakfast to be ready and on the table. It was seven-twenty. Breakfast was put out at precisely seven-forty-five on the weekdays. The crystal clear place settings were out – for the exception of his spot. He had silverware, but no juice glass or plate. Bruce thought it was rather odd. But, the silver tea set was out with coffee cups and saucers on it. Bruce poured himself a cup of coffee and grabbed the New York Times off the table. He sat in his spot furthest from the door facing out and second chair away from the head of the table.

            He enjoyed a quiet read with his coffee. At seven-forty-four William came through the swinging door pushing a metal food cart. Two square silver dish burners on the top of it.

            “Good morning, Master Bruce,” William greeted.

            “Morning,” he mumbled as he watched William put the square dishes on the table. Then he quickly lit the burners under them. He placed a tray of cut fruit on the table, a pitcher of ice water, and a silver tray with a round cover. And last, but not least, a crystal pitcher of freshly squeezed orange juice. Bruce despised carton orange juice or any liquid that came in a carton. It tasted like chemicals and worse – it was common.

William removed the tops from the dishes to reveal scrambled eggs, bacon, biscuits that were probably already buttered, and sausage links. “William, I don’t have a plate and a juice glass. Why is that?”

            “Oh . . . forgive me, sir,” Williams said apologetically. “I’ll get you those things right away.”

            “Please do,” he nearly sneered.

            That’s not like him to forget a place setting. I wonder if he’s all right.

            “Yes, sir,” William said and walked out of the dining room through the swinging door to the kitchen.

            Bruce looked at his watch. Seven-forty-five on the dot.

            Selena, his sister-in-law, and Christopher, his eldest brother, entered the dining room.

            They exchanged good morning greetings.

            Selena poured a cup of coffee for herself and her husband. Selena’s long dark hair was up and she had on a purple skirt suit with rhinestone buttons - very becoming against her Snow White like complexion.

            “You look good, Selena,” Bruce complimented. “Going to the gallery this morning?”

            “I am,” she said happily.  Selena worked part-time as an art buyer at Early’s Art Gallery. She sat down next him – between him and Christopher.

            Giggling could be heard several feet outside of the room as Bruce handed Selena the paper. They didn’t have to wonder who it was. They knew.

            Joanna and Trevor glided into the dining room arm in arm as they gazed at each other. “Did I mention you look brighter than the sun this morning?” Trevor oozed.

            “No,” Joanna answered softly.

            “Well, you do,” Trevor said and they kissed like two horny teenagers.

            “Ugh,” Bruce said and looked away.

            Christopher chuckled as Selena handed him the paper.  She had taken out the society section for herself.  It was rare that Bruce read the society section. Unless he thought the family was going to be in it for some reason, he didn’t bother with it. It was a lot of womanly nonsense to him.

            The newlyweds finally stopped kissing.

Trevor pulled out a chair for Joanna, who was over six months pregnant. Her luscious blonde hair laid on her shoulders.  She wore a long blue dress that was made out of material that would be used in making a sweater.

            “I swear you two are sweeter than honey,” Bruce commented with disgust. He didn’t want to be nauseous before breakfast.

            “Don’t be mad because I have a loving and hot marriage,” Trevor bragged as he sat down next to his wife and on the right side of Christopher.

            Everyone started helping their plates. Bruce was about to yell for William when he slowly came through the door pushing the food cart again. It had a champagne glass with a strawberry on the rim and a dish covered with a silver top.  There was a tall thin pitcher filled with what looked like orange juice. There was also a miniature pitcher of maple syrup.

            “William –” Bruce began.

            “Your plate is right here, sir,” William said as he wheeled the cart close to Bruce. He started unloading the items in front of him. “I hope you don’t mind, sir, but Alex had shared your happy news with the rest of the household staff this morning. Because of that, we thought one of your favorite breakfast dishes was in order. Please accept this as the household staff’s congratulatory gift, sir.” William removed the cover from the plate to reveal a large pecan waffle.

            It smelled delicious, but it was shaped like a big fucking heart. There was a small plop of whip cream and a small strawberry on top as garnish.

            “And your favorite breakfast drink, mimosa,” William said as he poured the liquid into the champagne glass.

            “The hell?” Trevor blurted out with furrowed brows.

            “Thank you, William.  And thank the staff for me.  This is very . . .  thoughtful,” Bruce said evenly.

            “You’re welcome, sir,” William said. “And again, congratulations.”

            “What the hell are you congratulating him for that warrants mimosa?” Trevor asked with envy.

            “Thank you, William, that will be all for now,” Bruce said as he put a white cloth napkin in his lap.

            “I just asked him a question,” Trevor said with his eyebrow cocked.

            “I’ll answer it for him,” Bruce said calmly. “You’re dismissed, William.”

            William turned on his heels and walked out the dining room.

            “What’s going on, Bruce?” Christopher asked as he put homemade jam on his biscuit.

            Bruce picked up the strawberry on the waffle. “I proposed to Catherine last night. She happily accepted.” He ate the strawberry whole. As he chewed, he looked at them.

            He had figured they would be surprised and they were. So much so they were speechless. He was glad they weren’t talking because he had more to say. “Keep the second weekend of June free. That’s our wedding weekend. Also, Catherine wants us – all of us to have lunch at her parents’ house after mass this Sunday to iron out the details of the wedding.” He looked over at his sister-in-law, whose lips were parted. “Selena, I told Catherine that her mother and sister should consult with you about the guests’ list for the engagement party - which will be on Saturday, March the tenth, here at the estate in the ballroom. Catherine had asked if we could have it here since we have a real ballroom. Will that be a problem?”

            Selena blinked a few times.  “No. I’ll be happy to . . . help them make . . . arrangements.”

            “Thank you,” Bruce said. He glanced around at the rest of them.

            They had unreadable expressions and remained quiet.

            “Um, that’s it,” Bruce said, thinking they were waiting for him to finish.

            A slow smile spread across Joanna’s lips. “That’s wonderful,” she said sweetly.

            Trevor cleared his throat.

            “Yes,” Christopher agreed. “Wonderful news. I had no idea you were planning to propose to Catherine.”

            “None of us did,” Trevor mumbled.

            “How long have you been thinking about this?” Christopher asked.

            “For the past two months,” Bruce answered.

            “And you didn’t mention it to any of us,” Selena stated.

            “Well, I wasn’t sure until recently,” Bruce said.

            Christopher picked up the silver bell on the table and shook it more than needed.

            William was back in the dining room in a flash.

            “William, bring us all champagne glasses and more mimosa. I want to toast my brother on his engagement,” Christopher said.

            “Yes, sir,” William said and disappeared as quickly as he appeared.

            “So tell us . . . how did you propose?” Joanna asked with interest.  “Did you get down on one knee? Was there candlelight? Did you have dinner?”

            Bruce chuckled at his blue doe eyed sister-in-law. “I rented a yacht. We had dinner cooked by Alex. That’s why the staff knew about it before you guys. Yes, there was candlelight. I had Alex put the ring on a silver tray with red rose pedals – his idea really. Catherine happily accepted and we are on the road to matrimony.”

            “A fast road,” Trevor mumbled.

            “Trevor,” Christopher hissed.

            “What Trevor means is that June isn’t as far away as it may seem,” Joanna said. “It’s in . . . four and a half months.”

            “I know it’s quick. Catherine had suggested October, but there was no reason to put it off that long.  I know what I want and need and it is her.”

            “Aw,” Joanna swooned.

            “Yes, it’s very sweet,” Selena added with a million dollar smile.

            Trevor shoved a piece of biscuit into his mouth.

            They nibbled on their breakfast as William returned with a bigger pitcher of mimosa and four more champagne glasses.

            The Hudsons got into a huddle with their mimosas in hand. Joanna had a champagne glass full of regular orange juice.

            “To you, Bruce, and your bride-to-be,” Christopher began as he raised his glass up. “May you have many happy years together and lots of children.”

            Trevor’s entire body jerked.

            “Are you alright?” Selena asked Trevor.

            “Yes. It was just a muscle spasm,” Trevor answered evenly.

            “Cheers,” Christopher said with a small smile.

            Everyone drank.