33. Julian
JULIAN
“H ow much longer do I give them before I go busting in there to save her?” I ask rhetorically.
“She’s fine, dude,” Brooks says behind me, flipping through the channels on the television in the rec room. “Let her get her pamper on.”
I sigh, rubbing my temples as I fall into the couch.
I stare out over the garden, wishing like hell I could sneak off with her and get lost.
“You know Dad is super suspicious, right?” Brooks goes on, never taking his eyes off the TV.
“No shit,” I say.
“I’m sure he thinks she’s after?—”
“I don’t give a damn, Brooks,” I say. “He’d be one to talk if he was concerned a woman was after my money while planning a million-dollar party for his third wife.”
Brooks smiles and shrugs.
“Not saying you’re wrong, Big Brother,” he says, “but he’s the king.”
Like he heard us, Cato enters the room, dressed to the nines in a suit that makes him look as suave as ever.
“Are we ready, boys?” he asks. Brooks whistles, popping up.
“Damn, Pops,” he says, “looking sharp as always.”
“I try,” he says with a modest shoulder pop. “No sign of the ladies yet, eh?”
I shake my head as we make our way toward him.
“Not yet,” I say.
“Ah, let her have her fun,” he says. “I trust you’ve taken care of?—”
“Dad, the reason it took this long for me to tell you about her was because she didn’t know if she wanted it out. You don’t need to worry. But I just want to confirm again that there is not supposed to be any press here. I promised her.”
My father nods slowly.
“No press,” he says, his eyebrows knit together like he’s not quite sure what to think about someone who doesn’t want press.
Trust me, Pops. Been there.
“Come,” he says, leading us out the door of the family wing and into the main living area. Just as we’re walking out, so are the stylists from Angelina’s suite. Her assistant, Diana, scurries out with a headset in.
“Yep. Great. Open doors in five,” she says into it then turns to us with a smile. “Evening, sir. Miss Angelina is all ready. Now, her intro will be at eight on the dot. Gives guests about thirty minutes to arrive. We will do hors d’oeuvres in the foyer hall, bars will be open, and then we will call everyone into the main hall for her introduction.”
As she’s giving her instructions, though, the door to the suite opens again, and my beautiful girl steps out. She’s wearing the gown I bought her, a deep navy that hugs her body in all the right places, with heels that I want to take off and chuck across the room.
She looks like a fucking goddess, and it’s all I can do not to rip it off her right now.
“Jesus,” I cough out as I walk toward her. She bites her lip, and I bend down to kiss her, careful not to smudge anything. “You look…unreal.”
“Yes, breathtaking, Sawyer,” my father chimes in as he walks past us toward the main house.
“Fuckin’ smoke show is what you are, girl,” Brooks says, and I whip my head to him.
“I’ll kill you where you stand,” I warn him. “Go.”
They both laugh as he walks by us, and then I hold her at arm’s length.
“Let me get a good look,” I say. “My god, woman. You’re liable to kill me.” She laughs, then I see her hand reach for her neck, and my heart stops for a moment. She’s got on the diamond-and-sapphire necklace that my grandfather gave my grandmother when they moved back to Bedell House. The story was that the Duchess of Edinburgh gave it as a gift herself, although we never confirmed it. When he bought it for her, she wore it every single day until she died. My grandfather wanted to bury her with it, but my father convinced him not to. And I know for a fact that he has it appraised every year, despite the fact that it’s willed to me when he dies.
It’s the only material thing that has ever meant anything to me, because it reminds me of the two people who showed me what a real love looked like.
And now it’s on her neck.
“Angelina told me I should wear it,” she says. “She said it matched the dress so well. But I don’t know, I…I feel…I think I should put it back. It’s not?—”
I stop her, reaching for her hands and bringing them down from her neck.
“Wear it,” I whisper as I step closer to her. “Please. Please keep it on.”
Her eyes scan mine for more of an explanation, but I don’t give one, and bless her soul, she doesn’t ask. I kiss her one more time before I take her hand, just as Connie rushes us out the wing and toward the main house.
For the most part, the night goes off without a hitch. A few of my relatives are here, but it’s mostly filled with Angelina’s “friends,” my father’s many, many business associates, and a few celebrities. While most people would gawk, Sawyer just takes it all in stride, not stumbling once on any introduction. I catch the eyes on us all night, but no one asks, and luckily enough, there is a strict agenda, complete with a video montage, a live band playing a song for Angelina and my father to dance to, and a call-in video chat with the Prince of Norway, wishing her a happy birthday.
Just as the cake is being cut, I pull Sawyer to the back of the banquet hall at a cocktail table. She’s sipping on the same glass of wine I got her an hour ago, and I’m finishing off my last beer of the evening.
I’m about to suggest that we sneak away when I hear his booming voice.
Fuck.
“And how are we faring tonight, Sawyer?” my father asks as he approaches us, flanked by four or five men who have been working for our family since my grandfather took over. Men who my family has made richer than Midas over the years. Men who have sold their souls to the devil.
“Faring just fine, Cato, thank you,” she says, holding her glass up. “This has been an amazing party.”
He laughs heartily as he puts his glass down on our table.
“This here is Sawyer, boys,” he says with a head nod in her direction. “Julian surprised us with her just today. They’ve apparently been dating.”
There are some “hmms” and “ahhs” coming from the men around us, and I instinctively move closer to her. I keep my eye on him, trying to figure out what angle he’s going for.
“She’s a student,” Cato goes on, and I see his eyes narrow in on her, locked in an accusatory gaze. “Like father, like son, eh, boys?” He looks around at them, and they all bust into a fit of fake laughter. “So what does that make you, Sawyer? Twenty-one, twenty-two?”
“Twenty-two,” she says, her eyes narrowed back on him.
“So much life yet still to live,” he says, his voice growing a little more serious. “And to think, your boyfriend here…he’s lived quite a life. We all have. And you’re just starting out. Probably not even sure what you really want out of life. Julian here, though…I’m sure he could help with that. When you’re a struggling college student, a billionaire boyfriend is probably nice to have, eh?”
God dammit, Cato.
The men chuckle behind him, but he doesn’t laugh. He just stays locked on her as I start to see red.
“Cato—” I start, but she puts her hand to my chest, stopping me. She keeps the same smile on her face as she sets her glass down.
“It’s so interesting, though, when you really think about it. Here I am, what, forty, fifty years younger than you, Cato? I have no ‘wealth.’ I own nothing. No property, no assets. And yet, I have still lived so many experiences in my simple, short little life that you never have, nor ever will.”
I look at her, fighting a smile. Then my eyes find my father’s. I want to tackle him to the ground in front of all his friends. But my girl doesn’t need me to.
“Oh?” he says, his voice getting a bit more stiff as he sets his glass down. “And what, pray tell, experience do you have that you think I so desperately need, my dear?” he asks, condescension dripping from his lips. But that perfect little smile just stays on her lips.
“Well, for starters, have you ever worked for someone other than your father, Cato? Or yourself? Has a company that wasn’t owned by your family’s estate ever employed you? Have you ever relied on grants, scholarships, multiple jobs to pay the bills? Have you ever paid a bill, or do you have someone who does that for you?” She pauses for a moment, and an awkward but beautiful silence shrouds us. She chuckles to herself. “Imagine that. Poor, simple, broke college student from Seattle…more worldly than the richest man on the planet. Excuse me.”
She turns on her heel and rushes past us, and I turn to my father.
“You tried, just like we all knew you would. But you won’t mess this up for me, Dad. And you can’t beat her with your little mind games. Careful, your insecurity is showing.”
And then I follow her out of the room. I see the train of her gown dragging around the corridor, and I jog to catch up. She’s running toward the side door, but I catch her just in time. I spin her around, but she won’t look up at me. I cup her face and tilt her eyes up to mine.
“I’m sorry,” she says. “I shouldn’t have?—”
“I love you,” I say. Her eyes widen, tears still pricking the corners. Her lips part as she stares up at me. “Can I take you somewhere?”
She nods slowly.
“Shouldn’t we…shouldn’t I probably leave?”
I laugh.
“Oh, we’re leaving the party. Just not leaving the property.”
I lead her down the south hallway to the old servants’ door that leads to the side of the garden. When we get outside, she pauses to take off her shoes. I bend down in front of her, and she stares at me.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m not having you walk a half-mile barefoot. Get on,” I say. She laughs.
“There is no way I’m?—”
I don’t give her another minute to argue. I throw her over my shoulder instead, walking through the garden as she giggles behind me.
“Julian! What if someone sees? You’re supposed to be all important and serious,” she says. I laugh.
“I know. Imagine my father’s surprise when he has to explain this,” I say, laughing as I make it around through the other end of the garden. We get to the eastern side of the house, and I set her down. I take off the gold watch that I wear every single day and flip it over. I press the small button to the compartment in the back, and it clicks open, spitting out a foldable key that my grandfather had specially designed eighty years ago. I walk toward the door in front of us, and I look up at her.
“This is the only entrance to the house that doesn’t open by retina or fingerprints anymore,” I tell her. “This was my grandfather’s favorite part of the house. It was off limits to everyone except for him, me, and my brothers. Not even my cousins had access. When he was dying, he made us promise to keep it to ourselves. So we never updated the entry. My brothers and I each have the same watch with the key.”
She smiles as I unlock it. Inside, I scoop her back up, carrying her up the swirling staircase that leads to the tower, which was really just a glorified study that my grandfather spent any free time he had in. His desk still sits in one corner, a huge sofa in another, and then in the adjoining room is a huge four-post bed.
“This is so cool,” she whispers, looking around.
“Tyler is going to get our things from my suite and bring them up here. We’ll hide up here tonight and be out first thing in the morning.”
She nods, walking toward the large square window that faces the ocean, my grandfather’s telescope still pointed at the sky.
“I’m sorry for what I said tonight,” she says as she stares out over the water. I untie my tie, tugging it off, and walk over to her. I slink my arms around her and kiss her temple, then her jaw, then underneath her ear.
“You have nothing to be sorry for, Sawyer. I’m the one who should be apologizing to you. He tried to make you feel small, but the only thing he did was humiliate himself. I’m so…I’m so grateful that I get to even know you, let alone love you.”
I spin her around to face me.
“He deserved every word you said. And if you hadn't given him a verbal beating, I’d have done it for you,” I chuckle, and a little smile shows on her lips. I bend down to kiss them. “It’s kinda hot, actually. The way you can bring a grown man to his knees.” She smiles against my mouth.
“Oh, yeah?” she asks. I bite her lip gently, and her tongue dances across mine as we kiss softly, slowly.
“Yes,” I say. I gently nudge her toward the French doors at the back of the room that open to a small balcony. It faces the water, away from the rest of the property. The perfect spot to feast. I open the doors and lead her outside, and she shivers when the cool breeze hits her skin. I know she’s cold, but she won’t be for long.
I slink down on my knees in front of her, reaching for the hem of her dress as it drags along the balcony floor.
“I have wanted to tear this off of you all night,” I tell her.
“Don’t you dare,” she moans as she leans back against the railing. “This cost more than I make in a year at the mini-mart.”
I smile as I look up at her, then I slide my hands up her legs slowly, raising the fabric up her creamy skin that’s glowing in the moonlight.
“Do you know how sexy that was tonight, Sawyer?” I tell her as I trace soft kisses up from her knees to her upper thighs. “Do you know how badly I wanted to take you right there in that hall? How badly I wanted to show everyone what you do to me?”
“What do I do to you, Julian?” she breathes. I smile as I slide my hands up to her ass, my eyes widening when I realize she’s got no panties on.
“You make me ravenous,” I say, and then I dip my head under the fabric, hoisting her up by her thighs. She leans back on the railing, clutching onto it as I dive in, tongue first. I lick her slit up and down, tasting every drop she has ready for me, urging more. I suction my mouth against her clit, massaging it with my tongue while it swirls in my mouth, and she writhes against the stone behind her. I feel her hand clutch my hair, and I plunge two fingers inside her pussy while I eat her.
“Christ Almighty,” she pants. “Julian, I?—”
She can’t finish her sentence, and I take that as my cue to continue driving her out of her fucking mind. I fuck her with my tongue, in and out, while my fingers massage her, her legs draped over my shoulders.
“That’s a good girl,” I say between licks. “Take these fingers, baby. Fuck my hand.”
“Oh, fuck,” she moans.
“Mm-hmm,” I say then dive in for another taste. “That’s such a good girl. Come for me now, baby. Let go and come.”
She grips my hair tighter as I plunge back into her pussy, sucking at the fastest rhythm I can until I feel her thighs clench around me. Then she drops back, her body going limp, and I slowly re-emerge from out of the dress.
She shudders as the aftershock rolls through her, and I smile as I lick her juices off my lips. God, she’s my favorite fucking flavor.
“Dear God,” she pants, and I chuckle as I scoop her up, carrying her back into the room. I stand her in front of me, unzipping the back of the dress and letting it pool at her feet.
“I need more,” she says, her chest still heaving.
“Oh, baby,” I tell her, “we’re not even close to being done.”
I urge her toward the bed, pushing her down onto the mattress. I press her head gently toward it, and I pull her hips toward me so her perfect little ass is up in the air.
I spit on my hand and rub it on my cock, pumping myself twice before I grip her hips again. I slide into her, pounding in and out while she moans, her hands outstretched and gripping the sheets.
“Good girl,” I tell her. “You’re doing so good, baby. You’re taking it so good, aren’t you?”
“Mm-hmm,” she says. I move faster, fucking her like I’m afraid she’s going to slip away, and then when I’m close, I lean forward, pulling her up to me. I rub my fingers over her clit slowly while I pound into her, and she wraps her arm around me, tugging on my hair as little cries escape from her lips.
“Come all over this dick,” I tell her. “Come for me, sweet girl. Come for Daddy.”
I feel her start to tremble in my arm, and then I let myself go, exploding inside of her as she lets out a scream and falls forward. I catch her, laying her down gently as I slide out of her and collapse next to her on the bed. We catch our breath for a moment, and I rub her head and kiss her cheek. I slide off the bed and grab a towel from the bathroom, cleaning her up and dabbing at the wet spot on the bed.
“Was that me or you?” she asks sheepishly.
“I think that’s a beautiful combo of both of us, honey,” I tell her as I tuck her into me and pull the covers up around us.