Prologue
Jericho
You'd think that with this many glistening pussies dancing around in front of me, I'd feel something other than immense boredom. Nothing against these girls. I'm sure they have a range of noteworthy qualities. Although those qualities aren’t what they want me to pay attention to as they dip and weave, kissing and licking each other’s naked flesh, while their eyes never leave mine.
The chunky platinum ring my father gave me when our debut album went triple platinum taps on the edge of my crystal tumbler with each swirl of whiskey. My eyes drift away from the harem dancing in front of me, toward the orgy mid-thrust on my mom's antique sofa.
I feel bad for the woman getting railed into the brocade cushions. That couch was definitely not made with comfort in mind.
I sigh, bringing the cool crystal to my lips and sipping on the fifty-five-year-old single malt. I didn't have high hopes for my thirtieth birthday; with both Lennon and Othelia now busy with the kids and Trace off on a spiritual retreat in Thailand. But part of me thought I would get more than this . The Lodge—my parent's home—filled with random strangers only interested in sucking my dick for the chance at a front page spread.
At least everyone will have cleared out by the time my parents arrive home from their trip to the Maldives. I should've gone with them, but what self-respecting thirty-year-old spends the eve of his birthday in a beachside villa, one bedroom away from his parents.
One who has nobody to spend their birthday with; that's who , my brain whispers, reminding me of who I am. But I down the rest of my drink, hoping the amber liquid distracts from the ever-present loneliness.
“What's wrong, Thorn?” Liam, one of the few childhood friends I still keep in contact with, jests from the other side of the room as one girl takes long pulls on his cock and another uses a rolled-up hundred to snort the white powder lined up across his chest. “By now, you're usually two girls deep and on your way to blowing through a third.”
He’s right, but the video Tilly sent me of her two-year-old, Jasper, singing me happy birthday from the other side of the country fucked with my brain, making these endless orgies just feel pointless.
I don't respond. I just grip the brunette attempting to climb into my lap, her eyes burning with desire as she flashes a smug smirk over her shoulder to her friend. The smile soon drops when my grip doesn't lead anywhere except to push her ass sideways onto the couch as I stand. Ignoring her whines, I stalk to the bar, pouring myself a double and knocking it back. I probably shouldn’t be slamming shots of this whiskey. My father will be pissed when he finds out I’m using his hundred-and-fifty- thousand-dollar bottle—a gift from the Prince of England—like cheap tequila, but right now I couldn’t give any less of a fuck.
“Thorn.” The blond lapping on the pulsing head of Liam's cock hits a sweet spot, making my name ground out of his mouth like a moan. “ Fffuck, baby. Thorn, you've got to get in on this. This girl has the mouth of a fucking hoover.”
“I'll take your word for it,” I mutter as I refill my glass, picking up the bottle, noting that it's now looking significantly more empty than when I arrived this afternoon.
Fuck. I need to slow down. My folks will arrive early tomorrow and I'll already be in shit for the main parlor smelling like liquor and sex. Facing a pissed-off mom with a mountain of a hangover will make it ten times worse.
I won't admit it to anyone, but I'm looking forward to spending the week up here with my parents. I can’t remember the last time our schedules matched up enough to give us an entire week together.
“Here, baby, try some of this.” The brunette from before sashays up to me, her full breasts bouncing in time with the sway of her hips. She hands me a little clear bag with crushed white powder gleaming under the light.
"Nah, I'm good.” Judging by the girls who have now passed out on the uncomfortable couch, that shit is going to fuck me up far more than this drink ever could.
“I'll let you lick it off my nipples, then I'll suck it off your cock,” she says. Her offer is tempting, but the oak grandfather clock in the foyer chimes seven times. Fuck, how is it only seven pm? This party is never-ending.
“Thanks, doll, but you'll have to find someone else tonight.” I'm not a total ass. I actually fucking hate disappointing people, but I promised my parents I'd keep myself straight for this week so we could make the most of it.
As her shoulders deflate, my phone chimes in my pocket. I don't bother unlocking it when I see the notification on the screen.
Mom
Sorry, Hon. Last minute shoot with Vanity Fair in Milan. Won't be able to make it to The Lodge this week. Have a wonderful birthday, my son. Xx
My jaw ticks as disappointment floods me. I inhale deeply, stretching my neck from side to side before my eyes glide up, drinking in the naked brunette that stands in front of me. Her lips tip up, a sly grin crossing her face as she senses my change in mood.
She wiggles the little baggy in the air in offering, and I grab it with two fingers. My smile grows as I tip the powder onto her naked chest.
Who needs family, anyway? is the last thought I allow to seep past my walls as I lean forward, pressing my nose into her soft flesh. Licking her nipple, I relish her soft moans as I push my nose into her rose-scented skin, enjoying her fragrance mixing with the white powder as I inhale, drifting into oblivion.
“Look at me… You stupid fucking asshole. Don't you dare fucking do this to me.”
So much fucking yelling.
My head pounds as I try to pry my eyes open. When blackness crowds my vision, I decide it’s best to just close them again.
“Come on, bud, stay with us. How far are the paramedics?” a gruff male voice asks, and I feel my brows pinch in recognition.
“Keep him on his side, Tilly,” another male voice barks from the other side of the room before continuing a muffled conversation. I can't make out much of what he’s saying but overdose and found unconscious stand out. Somehow, they feel important, but I can't grasp why.
“Jer, please.”
“Tilly?” My voice is hoarse and even though it hurts, I force my eyes open. Tilly is on her knees next to me, stroking my hair back as her partner, Rook, crouches behind her. “You came?”
“Of course we came, you big dope. It was meant to be a surprise. Did you really think we would miss your birthday?” Hurt flashes in her eyes, and I try to come up with something to say to make her feel better, but nausea crashes like a wave over my head, ripping me under its current.
My vision begins to darken again and the world slips away. The last thing I hear is the sound of sirens and Tilly screaming my name.