Sully

I can’t explain it, but two seconds before she emerges from the elevators, I know she is going to be there. With absolute certainty, I know it will be this moment.

The elevator doors open and she glances around uncertainly, brushing a wisp of her bangs back from her eyebrows. When she sees me, she breaks into a wide, dimpled smile.

She must have studied dance or something, because the way she crosses the lobby is lighter than air, almost like a ballerina. Too quick for those little feet, which are currently strapped into scarlet sandals.

“Hi, good morning!” she grins, staring up at me excitedly.

She’s wearing a fluttery blue dress with a V-neck top, tied with a ribbon on one side of her waist. I love it that she wears these feminine but practical dresses. She has the perfect figure for them too. The top highlights her unblemished skin and breasts, and the skirt length accentuates those strong, lithe legs. Though she is quite petite, her legs are proportionally quite long, and her hips wide and sturdy. I bet she would…

“You look beautiful this morning,” I force myself to say, banishing all other thoughts from my mind. I want to stay focused, to see if I can ascertain what my brothers have been alluding to.

“Thank you very much,” she chirps, executing a quick curtsy. “And you look very handsome.”

Her smile is dazzling in the morning light. She seems very direct. Assertive. From what my brothers say, she’s quite good at describing her wants and needs.

Anyway.

“I take it you’ve never been on Lake Michigan before?”

Her eyes go wide, her cheeks pinken.

“We’re going on the lake?” she says in an awestruck whisper. “Should I change clothes? What do I need to wear?”

“You’re perfect the way you are,” I smile, unable to resist her infectious grin. “We’ll go sailing another time, but I thought breakfast at the harbor would be a fun experience for you. Does that sound all right?”

“That sounds like… I don’t even know! But I’m hungry…”

“Wonderful,” I find myself saying, offering her my arm.

The doorman opens the doors for us, carefully keeping his eyes elevated over my head. But I know what he’s thinking. Everyone here remembers Nina. Everybody remembers how wonderful she was. How enchanting, like a fairy tale sprite occupying the hotel. She charmed the staff, winning them over.

When she left, she didn’t say anything she shouldn’t have. She didn’t malign us to the staff or anything. No vicious attacks of gossip.

It was us. Me and my brothers. We couldn’t hide our pain from the staff. Everyone here knew intimately what we were going through, even sort of went through it with us. They sympathized with us. Many here had grown fond of Sophia already and ached for her loss of her mother while they ached for us losing our partner.

Yes, it’s a strange arrangement, but no one here would ever be judgmental. Hotel personnel are always selected for their sense of loyalty and discretion. They’re entrusted with people’s belongings every day. People’s secrets. People’s habits and purchases. In a way, they are almost like family also.

And no one has said an unkind word about Bunny so far. Everyone has been enthusiastic and charming and doing exactly what they should. Some are excited at the possibility that we haven’t given up. Others are perhaps a bit more guarded.

The driver slows the Rolls-Royce in front of the door, then pops out to open a back door for Bunny. She claps her hands under her chin and gasps in delight.

“Oh, really? For me… okay! Thank you!” she chatters as she climbs inside.

I climb in after her, trying to dampen my enthusiasm. It really is difficult to be around her and remain in the foul mood that greeted me this morning. She’s bright. Sunshiny.

I don’t want to be bright and sunshiny right now. I want to be analytical and cautious.

But she sits on the edge of her seat, staring out the window as we make the drive to Burnham Harbor. I can see her fingers gripping the leather as she leans forward, drinking everything in.

“I take it you’re not from a big city?” I ask her.

“Oh, I like to go all over,” she sighs. “I’ve been to New York and DC… Annapolis… It’s just I’ve never been here. I love to go new places. Trey says you have hotels in fifty countries?”

“Well… just thirty,” I explain. “Maybe fifty. Eventually.”

“Have you been to all of them?”

I nod. When I do the math in my head, it’s kind of a lot. “Yeah, they usually send me to do the negotiations. Spencer is our attorney so he gets to stay here and do everything by email. Trey and Brock like to use the jets to go snowboarding and check out whatever concert strikes their fancy. And Royce likes to stay here. This location is the one our father built, the one that’s dearest to his heart.”

She smiles broadly. I notice how straight her teeth are.

“Oh, that all makes sense. It’s cool that you guys all have different roles. You work together and all that.”

“Do you have a big family too?”

“I’d like to have a big family,” she answers shyly. “We don’t really have all the advantages you guys have. Everybody’s always stressed out. Working more than one job. Trying to make ends meet. I guess you probably never had to think about that, did you?”

Her little hand is on the seat, and I want to hold it. I want her hand in my hand. Such a strange feeling. I can’t explain it.

We swing into Burnham Harbor, stopping just before the slips. A light breeze comes up the lake and swirls her skirt around her thighs as we walk down the pier to our boat. The captain and chef wave from the upper deck. I wave back.

“Wait a second… is that where we are going? That looks like that cruise ship!”

“Oh, don’t exaggerate,” I smile, feeling quite proud of myself anyway. “It’s just a yacht. It’s a nice place to have breakfast.”

Bunny practically skips ahead of me, walking up the ramp and onto the boat. The captain takes her hand to steady her and smiles at her like a grandpa.

As I climb on board, he gives me a wink of approval. Great. Looks like everybody is on Team Bunny.

The chef appears to lead the way, looking quite smart in his whites and cloche.

“Miss Bunny? Would you like to have a seat on the deck?”

“Oh, thank you!” she singsongs. “This is so amazing!”

He pulls out her chair for her, tucking it neatly under her bottom as she settles in, then opening her napkin and draping it across her lap. She holds her hands up as though surprised how close he is. He doesn’t have to go all the way to maître d’ service, but I suppose he’s enjoying himself.

“Coffee here, espresso here,” he instructs her, tapping the different vessels. “Cream and sugar, of course. Then we have blood-orange juice and I’ve made some English-style biscuits. Clotted cream and strawberry preserves. Crêpes will be available in just a moment!”

I settle across from her, watching her delight as she surveys the table. It’s laden with a little bit of everything, all in crystal and silver. Chef did a marvelous job putting this together on the fly. When Spencer called him, I heard he was not pleased about the emergency appointment.

But you really couldn’t tell now. He’s absolutely bubbling, bouncing between the crêpe iron and relish table. He prepares a cheese plate and sets it on the edge of our table, then returns to his batter.

“Okay, this is bananas,” she says through a mouth half full of biscuit.

“Bananas?” Chef calls out. “Right there, love. Next to the pomegranate seeds.”

“Oh, he’s just showing off now,” I sigh. “Breakfast isn’t usually quite like this. Close… but not quite.”

“What’s it usually like?” she asks. Her eyes wander out over the harbor, toward the other boats and then Lake Michigan itself. I see her smiling, drinking it all in.

“On a day-to-day basis? I’m lucky to get a cappuccino. When we really make an effort… it’s a little more diner food. Eggs, bacon, that kind of thing. Denver omelets.”

“Hash browns?” she asks me delightedly.

“Basically my favorite saying,” I admit. “I don’t love all the carbs, but… potatoes are basically the most perfect food in the world, right?”

“Right!” she exclaims. “I mean, as long as you can keep up enough exercise to work them off. I could eat potatoes fifteen different ways every day. That plus a nice ham and cheddar omelet, some rye toast?”

“Oh my God, yes,” I groan. “When I was wrestling, I could eat an entire loaf of rye bread. The whole thing. Butter and everything.”

Chef comes over to deliver the crêpes, scowling at me like I am betraying him by talking about something as humble as rye toast and hash browns. But he doesn’t even realize, that shit is delicious.

“You used to wrestle?” she asks me, intrigued, as she chews. “Yeah… I can see that. You’re a pretty big fellow. You must be pretty intimidating in business meetings, huh?”

I hold up my hands, showing her just how big they are. “I usually get my way,” I joke.

She rolls her eyes and purses her lips coquettishly. “My, Sully, what big paws you have!”

Chef swoops back toward the table, delivering me a petite slab of grilled ham. Before he walks away, he makes sure that I see his expression. There’s not a word for what he is trying to convey. The closest I can explain it is that he is saying something like, Damn, brother, are you okay?

We finish our breakfast with a little conversation, some laughter, and a lot of smiling. The longer we are together, the easier it is. I find myself trying to make her laugh, trying to impress her. If we were in high school, I probably would’ve done several flips across the front deck by now. Good thing I am a grown adult male and not prone to such demonstrations.

“Oh, that was so good!” she groans, leaning back in her chair with a satisfied smirk on her face. “So, are we going to go anywhere? On the lake I mean?”

“I couldn’t scramble a crew this fast,” I explain. “But we will certainly go another time.”

She pouts a little bit. “Oh, of course… you told me that already, didn’t you.”

“But… would you like a tour? It is a pretty big boat.”

“Oh, yes! Totally!” she agrees, standing up and clapping her hands lightly.

The chef and captain make themselves scarce as I guide Bunny into the interior cabin. She rushes immediately to the curved wall of windows to look out over the harbor, dragging her hands along the glossy walnut paneling.

“I can’t believe this room is on a boat!” she exclaims. “I mean, it’s the size of my third-grade classroom!”

“We have smaller boats,” I shrug. “I could take you on a smaller boat next time.”

Her smile widens and she winks.

“What? What did I say?”

She points a finger at me. “You said next time,” she answers triumphantly. “You weren’t sure you liked me… but you did say next time.”

I scrub my hand over my jaw, wanting to laugh. “Yeah, I guess you got me there. That is what I said.”

She saunters over, swinging her hips dangerously from side to side. Her lips are pursed and she licks the lower one, wetting it. Her fingers drift out and glide across the front of my trousers, tracing the outlines of my hard cock.

“Oh… actually it seems like you really like me,” she murmurs.

I can’t say anything. She is enchanting, it’s true. My body responds to her like… like I want to pick her up by the waist and plant her on my cock. I want to screw her until she screams. I want to open her ass cheeks and…

“Is this okay?” she asks me quickly, dropping to her knees in front of me. Her fingers deftly work the buckle of my belt and then the button, dropping my trousers around my knees before I have a chance to answer. Then she pauses, looking up at me. She’s waiting for me to nod. She’s waiting for me to say yes.

I nod.

At that, she plucks my dick from my boxer briefs, widening her eyes in delight. It’s true, I’m hung like a twenty-ounce Coke bottle, from the fat end. She uses both hands and smacks her lips before opening that beautiful mouth and letting that little tongue come out.

Her tongue swirls around the head of my cock, dousing it in thick spit that mixes with my pre-cum. I’m glossy, laminated.

Hanging onto the ledge behind me, I force myself not to start fucking her sweet little mouth. I want to knock her down and jackhammer that hole. I want it so bad that I…

“Fuck, yesssss. Unnnhn,” I groan, transported when her mouth closes around me. That sweet, hot mouth, sucking at the head, working the shaft. She arches her back so my balls dangle over her tits. After just a few seconds, I’m overwhelmed, unable to figure out how she’s doing what she’s doing. Her lips flutter and suck, her tongue slides along my sensitive slit.

“Come for me, Sully!” she says, her voice muffled by my big dick.

Jesus, I can’t help it. I unload into her sweet face, unleashing months of pent-up seed. She gags and chokes, but forces herself to suck it all down, swallow it, and then suck me dry the rest of the way. Even though I’m done coming, she is still sucking me, making sure that she’s gotten every last drop.

Knees weak, I crumple to the floor in front of her and finally get my arms around her. She folds up on my lap, nestling against my chest and crossing her arms behind my neck. Fighting to stay conscious, I just hold her for a long time, aware that she fits into a void I have that I was trying to ignore.