Jon
Christmas had come and gone in a flurry of wrapping paper, watery-eyes, and more affection than I could remember feeling in a long time. We’d all mutually agreed to keep the gifts to a minimum, given that we were about to buy a house, Patrick was footing the bill for the wedding, and because Lydia was extremely uncomfortable having us spend a large amount of money on her.
We still spoiled her, and each other for that matter, but we didn’t expect that from her. She didn’t know she was being spoiled yet, she thought that the few pieces of jewellery, a new laptop, and a vintage fur coat courtesy of Lucy were it, she was completely unaware of the Cadillac Escalade that would be waiting for her when we got back.
She’d secretly done it for us as well though, going out of her way to find me a white gold Audemars Piguet self-winding watch with a royal blue face surrounded by thirty-two diamonds. She gave Patrick a navy-blue Hermès suitcase with silver hardware paired with a much simpler, more modern platinum smart watch that he had been thinking about getting for some time. Both of our presents were more extravagant than I expected, my watch alone was at least fifteen thousand, and Patrick’s bag wouldn’t have been much cheaper.
None of us held back for Christmas like we had planned, especially once you added in the charitable donations, but I was glad that we were able to indulge ourselves. It was a far cry from my holidays growing up. Despite my parents owning a townhouse and sending four kids to private school, we never exchanged gifts, clothing was bought once and then handed down, and we had very strict rules about what money could be spent on. I couldn’t imagine my parents being around to see the way I spent my money now, they didn’t like it ten years ago but now I had more than just Maritza to pamper. Mom would be horrified, I thought with a smirk, truly horrified.
I missed them often, but I couldn’t deny that it was less stressful without them around to question every decision I made.
My mind wandered to my siblings while I sipped my coffee, just enjoying the silence, save for the crackling of the fire in the living room. Quiet mornings with a cup of coffee and various new sites open on my iPad were hard to come by lately. The calmness of sitting on my sunporch while one of the housekeepers made breakfast was a distant memory at this point. Now mornings were filled with the sounds of Lydia talking on the phone to Allie while they got ready for the day, Patrick arguing with his mother about whether or not he should run for congress – a near daily argument and a futile one since he swore to never become a politician – and all the while I would be sitting there wondering how my apartment had become so loud.
Lydia’s book deal and Pat’s desperate attempt to find himself a new career that he could define himself with commanded our every waking moment, it had taken the peace out of my life and threw me back into the days of there always being something I needed to do.
And I loved it.
I liked that rush, that push of deadlines approaching and the hectic scrambling to get things done. I’d missed that more than anything in the time since we had left working for the office. The death of Patrick’s father and my divorce becoming finalized had slowed us down to a point where I was incredibly bored. Now there was something to do every day, something different. I loved that. But I was also incredibly thankful for this much needed vacation.
The past month had been the longest, most stressful time yet and I was happy to have a short reprieve from it. When we had to go back, I would be well-rested and ready to take on the world again. I could be talked into this again. Hell, if Lydia really wanted, I would gladly give her my support for writing a dozen more books – it kept us all busy.
But for now, it was just the one, and I got to enjoy my double-shot espresso from the comfort of kitchen, watching as a fresh layer of snow fell and knowing without a shadow of a doubt that both of my brothers would have some choice names for me looking like a pretentious asshole right now.
The joke was on them, I’d looked like a bigger douche when I was smoking with my feet up in my office, this was nothing compared to that.
Behind me, I heard the bedroom door creak open, followed by the sound of heavy footsteps coming down the hall. I stayed there waiting for him, until I felt Pat’s arms around my waist and his hot breath at my ear.
“Morning,” he mumbled. “How long you been up?”
I checked my watch. “Just about an hour now,” I answered. “Coffee?”
I knew the answer was already a no before I felt him slid his hand down my abdomen to my waistband, groping my still soft cock through my flannel pajama bottoms. “No,” he said finally. “Dia didn’t want me.”
“Oh, so I’m your second choice?” I asked, feigning irritation.
He chuckled and ground his hard-on against my ass. “Whoever is closest is the first pick.” His voice wasn’t as thick now, he sounded marginally more awake. “She won’t be up for a while.”
Chills washed over me. It wasn’t that we didn’t like involving Lydia in our sex life, it was just that sometimes we just wanted each other, in the same way that we didn’t always want to share her. It was just easier not to feel guilty about when the other person was away, asleep, or not interested.
Patrick didn’t wait for my go ahead, he went straight to work on my neck and shoulders, massaging my already relaxed muscle. He knew exactly what I liked – the neck area, not my actual shoulders or back. I moaned and lolled my head forward, giving him as much room as possible to work his magic.
He kneaded my muscle expertly, it made me close my eyes and lean into his touch. The warmth from his hands spread through my chest and prickle my skin, causing me to shiver unintentionally. Pat chuckled and leaned in drag his tongue up the back of my neck. I let my eyes drift shut and any tension I was holding dissolved instantly.
I could remember taking him to Plaisir for the first time, watching him do this exact thing to countless women that he had tied up. I’d always laughed about it, thinking that he was trying too hard, but I realized now that it shot ice down my spine and made my toes curl.
“I thought Christmas was yesterday,” I mumbled as he sunk to the floor behind me, dragging his nails down my back.
“It was,” Patrick agreed. He reached in front of me and untied the drawstring of my pants. “But don’t get used to this.”
He jerked my pants down and pushed me forward roughly until I was leaning across the counter. His tongue met my skin at the same time as his hand closed around my cock, not leaving any inch of me untouched.
It was easy to relax against him, to fuck his hand when he suddenly found a spot that made me moan loudly, and to forget that I was standing in front of rather large window. I’d fucked Lydia like this a number of times, but I couldn’t say I’d ever been in this position myself. But in the back of my mind, through the haze of pleasure that clouded all rational thought, I had a nagging feeling that there was something wrong.
I couldn’t hold onto that train of thought before suddenly his other hand joined his mouth and I felt his fingers pushing into me. My cock throbbed in desperation while he jerked me off, he just continued lazily, swirling his tongue over my ass until I thought I was going to have to beg him to fuck me. I pushed back on him, trying to make him go faster or harder and he refused, giving my cock a tight enough squeeze that I winced.
“Be gentle,” I snapped. “I only have one of those.”
Suddenly he pulled his fingers out and slapped my ass hard, the sound of skin on skin rang around the room. “Lydia has a whole closet full of them if I break yours,” he replied chipperly. “Now stay like that for a minute.”
He stood up and I groaned pathetically, letting my head hang down while I waited for him to get his act together. I could feel by heartbeat in my cock and every part of me was screaming out for him to touch me again, to not leave me hanging here.
It was barely thirty seconds before I felt his fingers on me again, this time smearing lube over my ass and running his cock over the excess, teasing me. I couldn’t stop myself from pushing back just a little bit, trying to get him to just cave and fuck me already. We both knew this wasn’t a long session in the playroom, this was just a fast one to work off his morning wood.
He shoved into me completely, sheathing himself to the hilt without a second of a hesitation. I almost cried out but quickly clamped a hand over my mouth to muffle it while my eyes watered in surprise.
Patrick’s breath tickled my ear suddenly as he leaned down. “Sorry, you said gentle, didn’t you?”
Dick. I grit my teeth and shook my head adamantly. I wasn’t scared of him being rough, it wasn’t anything I hadn’t done to him, but a little warning might be fucking nice.
Patrick shoved me down with his fist twisted into my hair and the other digging into my hip, pulling me back on him with each thrust. The ache of being stretched by him made my eyes roll back and cock throb painfully once more, reminding me of how close I was. I didn’t need to touch it, I would come any minute now if he kept it up at this angle.
I felt the tension in him while he fucked me, the unusual amount of force behind it, the roughness that was uncommon for him. When he bit jerked my head back by my hair, I gasped unintentionally and felt the briefest twinge of pain. He didn’t seem to notice.
The head of my cock was leaking precum badly by then, it dripped down onto the tile floor and made me fuck him back finally. Patrick swore under his breath and started fucking me faster, eventually letting go of my hair to take hold of both hips. He didn’t slow down when the door down the hall shut loudly and Lydia came padding into the kitchen.
We must have looked interesting at the very least. Patrick behind me, fucking my ass like a madman, me bent over the kitchen counter with my cock bobbing in time to his thrusts.
Whatever she might have thought, it didn’t stop her from coming over and giving me a kiss on the cheek.
“Good morning, Daddy,” she purred, running her hand through my now extremely messy hair.
I wanted to say good morning to her as well but that wasn’t going to happen, largely because her soft hand wrapped around my cock like silk and it sent me over the edge. For a fraction of a second, every muscle in my groin tensed and then released, setting off sparks behind my closed eyes and making me shiver. Her hand kept pumping up and down my cock, working it until I became too sensitive and had to push her away. Lydia giggled and I caught her playfully licking off her finger with a sly wink just as Patrick pushed me right down onto the counter, holding me there while he finished.
He let out a loud moan and slowed his motions as he came. I felt the warmth of his cum and closed my eyes again, letting myself enjoy the submissive feeling.
When he pulled out he gave my ass another slap followed by a kiss on the cheek, the same way Lydia had.
“That’s how you start the day off right,” he teased, eyes glittering.
I snorted and pulled my pants back up, giving him a shove before turning to the fridge where Lydia was picking through for something to eat. Patrick gave her a longer kiss, something we rarely did in front of her, and told us he was off to have a shower. I watched him go while held open the fridge door and took various items from her to set on the counter. His body was still carrying a lot of stress, I could see it in his walk and the way his shoulders were set. I’ll have to corner him at some point, I thought tiredly.
Patrick was more intently focused on sex than I’d seen him before. I already knew that Lydia pushing him away was because she was too sore – we both fucked her last night, Pat at least twice, if not again once I got to sleep. He was also rougher with me than usual – not that I was complaining, but it was just concerning.
“Jon?”
I blinked, startled, and turned back to Lydia. “Yes, dove, sorry.”
She shook her head with a gentle sigh and held up a carton of eggs. “Do you want French toast and bacon?”
“Do I want French toast and bacon?” I scoffed. “Do you need to ask?”
She rolled her eyes and shut the fridge forcefully. “Alright smartass, get the mixing bowl before you have to make your own breakfast.”
I was not the most proficient cook. Not by a long shot. But Lydia made it easier and I appreciated that she didn’t get impatient when I had to ask questions.
I tried not to get distracted by her belly while we cooked, but I couldn’t stop glancing downward, where it pulled her white camisole taut and instantly drew my gaze. It wasn’t big yet, despite me praying every single night for that to be the case in the morning, but Dr. Auyeung assured both of us that the growth was right on schedule. Lydia was pleased with it because for the meantime she could still wear a fair amount of her old clothes and she wasn’t going to be showing too obviously for the engagement party this weekend.
“How’s my baby doing?” I asked as I reached out to touch her stomach.
She flipped the bacon before reaching down and pulling up her shirt enough for me to get a better feel.
“He’s the size of a mango now,” she answered excitedly, glancing down. “Almost a banana, actually.”
“I forgot you were doing the fruit thing,” I replied. “Should I start calling him a fruitcake?”
She smacked my arm and I just laughed before wrapping my arms around her waist while we finished up together.
Her referring to the baby as our boy had started rubbing off on me and I was becoming attached to the idea that she was carrying our son. I would be happy just to have a healthy baby, but I had the image of her holding our son in my head and I couldn’t let it go. She didn’t want to find out the sex, she’d made that clear from the beginning that there would be no gender reveals, no confirmations, just the excitement of a baby on the way.
Even once we had breakfast on the table, there was no sign of Patrick. I could hear the water running in the distance but it was weird for him to take this long. Lydia had picked up on it as well and caught her shooting nervous glances down the hall while we ate. I watched her pick nervously at her plate, willing her to eat it all instead of just some of it again.
“Is he mad at me?” she asked suddenly, turning to me with wide gray eyes that made my heart hurt.
Oh, dove… I took her hand in mine, squeezing it gently. “Of course not, why would you think that?”
She shook her head and brought her thumb to her mouth, running it back and forth along her lower lip. “I turned him down this morning and then he just runs off…”
“That’s just the post-Christmas funk,” I said, waving off her worry. “I promise he’s not mad at you, he never is.”
She nodded reluctantly and went back to her plate without another word.
Lydia had expressed concern to me before that she didn’t think Patrick was happy, that he might just be putting on airs to make us happy instead. I didn’t know how to tell her that wasn’t the case and that I was sure this had more to do with Aleksy being gone than anything else. Pat worked hard to make us all happy, he strived to be the best person he could and I knew he wasn’t going to let go of Lydia without a fight. And this wasn’t a fight, this was him trying to hold what was left of his life together.
Things had moved so fast after the Bahamas trip, we barely had room to breathe with everything that was suddenly shoved our way. Pat had flown home barely two days after they buried his father, and he hadn’t spoke of it to anyone since. Instead, he searched for contacts that would actually speak to him and attempted to rebuild the pieces of his career. With Edward McNamara of all people, a man that was known for being a bit sleazy and terrible lawyer.
Lydia and I were the only constant forces in Patrick’s life right now, and I was moving into a completely different field while Lydia was starting to find her footing in publishing. But Patrick was fighting against the current and getting nowhere.
I would try and talk to him again when Lydia was busy, that way I had I better chance of him opening up. He didn’t like worrying her with that stuff, but he didn’t realize that bottling it in this way was what made her worry in the first place.
“You know, he could be nervous about the engagement party,” I offered after I finished chewing. “All those people he hasn’t seen in forever, the publicity and whatnot.”
She perked up instantly, her smile radiating excitement. “Ohmigod, I can’t wait,” she gushed. “Lucy took care of everything and it’s going to be such a nice end to the year. I still can’t believe so many people agreed to spend their New Year’s Eve at an engagement party.”
Two hundred and twenty guests. Eighty less than the wedding. I could believe it though, Lucille Rosing liked to host parties, and she never let anyone down. When found out that the guest list included people like Princess Maria-Olympia of Greece, actual royalty even if the monarchy was gone, she screamed. Loudly. Right in my ear. I think she was just a little bit excited to enter into this world officially, to have the status of a name like Rosing and the power it carried in this city, and around the world thanks to Lucy.
Lydia launched into her plans for the night, detailing just how ready she was to finally be open about their relationship. In the back of my mind, I promised myself to make it the best night I could by talking to Patrick as soon as possible, to draw him out of this mood for both their benefits.
Someone had to guide us through the rocky patches, and I was happy to take on that role.