Hudson

Chapter Eleven

Before

Christina swept her tongue along my crown, sending a shiver down my spine.

“Stop fucking teasing,” I hissed. A blowjob in a hidden alcove at Cipriani 42nd Street hadn’t been in my plans for the evening. But when my one-night fling from the summer arrived at The Pierce Industry Annual Thanksgiving Eve Charity Gala with her lips painted in Fuck Me Red, my agenda had been altered.

“Tell me what you want then, Mr. Pierce?” She was playing at some hot fantasy where she was my employee and I was her boss. It wasn’t necessary as far as I was concerned, but it got her mouth on my dick without much work, so I went along.

“I want you to fucking suck it. Like a good girl.” I flicked my finger at her cheek. “Open up.” She complied, shaping her lips into an “O” before wrapping them around my hard cock. “Yeah, like that.”

I closed my eyes, relishing the feel of her warm, moist mouth cocooned around my dick. There were few things that I enjoyed in this world as much as getting head. It was the only situation where I could sit back and think completely of myself. I didn’t care if the girl was turned on or enjoying it. Examinations of human nature were put on hold. Fellatio was about simple pleasure—my pleasure.

With one hand pumping the base, Christina drew her mouth up and down over my swollen cock. Her other hand reached below to fondle my balls. She wasn’t very original with her play, but she had spirit. And honestly, even mediocre blowjobs are fucking fantastic.

As for her tempo…it was on the slow side. That could be remedied. I tangled my hands into her hair, messing up her carefully coifed bun. It took her a moment, but soon she relinquished control and that’s when things got good. I drove into her at an aggressive speed. With each thrust I hit the back of her throat, the tickling on my crown sending me closer to the brink. I glanced down at the erotic sight—her eyes watered as my cock fucked her mouth. Even as I pounded harder, faster, she allowed me to control the experience.

“Keep up, Christina. Fuck me with your greedy little mouth.”

Her lips tightened around me. She was so willing, so submissive. How strange that she didn’t find it completely debasing. She struggled to catch a breath and the hard floor had to be a bitch on her knees. The demeaning nature of the situation only added to the eroticism. My climax came rushing toward me. I had time to warn her, but I didn’t want to give her a chance to pull away. I spurted into her, holding her head in place so that she had no choice but to swallow.

“That’s a good bitch. Swallow it all.”

Like a champ, she even licked me clean.

I took a deep breath and exhaled. Jesus, that had felt good. A perfect distraction from my parents’ dismal casino night.

After I’d tucked myself back into my tuxedo pants, I helped Christina to her feet. “Very good, Ms. Brooke. I suppose I’ll have to approve your vacation request after all.”

She wiped at her lips before giving me a seductive smile. “Thank you, Mr. Pierce. Is there anything else I can do for you this evening?”

“I think that’s all, Ms. Brooke.” If she wanted me to return the favor, it wasn’t happening. I’d been there and done that, and there were plenty of fresh cunts at the event to choose from if I decided I wanted to get off again before the night was over.

However, it was never good to burn bridges, so I tugged her close and whispered at her ear. “I have to get back to this boring party. But if I find another chance to get away…” I bit at her lobe.

“Right. Got it.” She was smiling when I released her.

Mission accomplished.

She pulled at the few pins that I hadn’t already dislodged from her hair, gathering them into a pile in her hand. “You need to get out there and practice for when you’re hosting this event. It won’t be long now, I’m sure.”

I did have plans to work for my father over Christmas Break. He’d already given me preliminaries on some of his accounts. “When I’m in charge, I’ll own the nightclubs we party at.” Made much more sense than spending a fortune to rent out another venue. Especially when the evening was for charity. I’d seen the event expenses. It was hard to imagine there was anything left to donate after all the bills were paid.

“Smart thinking, boss.”

I cringed. Now that we weren’t immersed in the fantasy, the remnants of it left a bad taste. It was time to excuse myself from my date of the moment.

“Have you heard anything from Celia?”

That question, however, kept me interested in Christina for a bit longer. “Not since summer.” Not since that night she’d fucked my father. I’d made sure to avoid her until she’d gone back to school in California a few days later. Having been at school myself, I’d heard little of her and had often wondered how my experiment had affected her semester. This was a chance to find out. “Have you?”

“I went to see her a couple months ago,” Christina said, picking up her handbag from the floor. She tucked the pins into a side pocket. “She was a fucking mess.”

Now that was interesting. “What do you mean by mess?”

“Partying. Drugs. She was doing a shit-ton of cocaine when I saw her. And talk about slut—she spread her legs for any guy who gave her the time of day.”

I wiped at my mouth, trying to decide how to evaluate the information. It was probably a coincidence. Her behavior couldn’t have been because of me. Could it?

“That’s too bad.” I actually meant it.

“Rumor has it,” Christina narrowed her eyes at me, “that she was nursing a broken heart.”

“Are you blaming her self-destruction on me?” The idea didn’t sit well. While I’d never cared what happened to my subjects after I’d concluded my experiments, Celia was different. She was family, in a way. Again I resolved myself not to scheme anymore with people I knew.

Christina chuckled. “She’s a big girl. She’s responsible for her own destruction. I just thought you’d want to know.”

I shrugged. I did want to know, but I didn’t need Christina knowing that.

“She’s in town for the holiday.”

I shrugged again.

“You know, Hudson? You’re kind of an asshole.”

It was my turn to laugh. “And you’re just figuring this out now?”

“No. I knew.” She pulled her fingers through her tangled hair. “And I still let you fuck me. So obviously I don’t really care.”

Too bad I didn’t give a shit about people. Christina and I might have made a good team.

As it was, I was done with her. I paused, devising a way to escape. In the end, I simply nodded toward the restrooms. “You should clean yourself up. Have a good Thanksgiving if I don’t see you again.” I left her before she had a chance to respond.

Back in the main room, I found myself scanning the casino tables for Celia. It was silly to think she’d be at the event. Her parents weren’t even there, and Celia wouldn’t have come without them, but I wanted to see her. Wanted to know if she was really a mess. Something in me needed to know that she wasn’t.

I wasn’t expecting to find the answer I was seeking. My survey of the place, though, led me to another sight I hadn’t been expecting—my mother, climbing onto a blackjack table.

Goddammit.

She’d been a drinker most of my life, so I was used to all her modes of intoxication. Usually, she kept her shit together in public. Whatever made her go overboard tonight, I wasn’t sure I wanted to know. But someone had to rescue her, or at least keep her from embarrassing herself or the family.

My father was already helping her down when I arrived at the scene. He smiled, like it was all in fun. “Sophia, now how many times have I told you that isn’t the way you play twenty-one?”

The handful of spectators laughed. Jack Pierce, shithead that he was, always did have a way with a crowd.

My mother blinked a couple of times, as if trying to clear her vision. “There you are. I was climbing up there to get a better view of the room so I could figure out where you’d wandered off to.”

She could still speak without slurring her words. So she wasn’t as intoxicated as I’d imagined.

My mother pinned her stare on the blonde standing next to my father. “Is this the latest? I should have known. When you disappear, it’s usually with a tram—”

I stepped in before she could finish her sentence. “Mother, walk with me, will you?”

“And leave him alone with his bi—”

My father cut her off this time. “It’s okay, Hudson. Of course you won’t be leaving me, sweetheart. I’m going with you.” He wrapped an arm around her waist and began escorting her toward the exit.

While my mother has been known for false accusations, the glance he threw back at the blonde gave him away. Not to my mother—she already knew. But now I knew too that the woman at his side was not just an acquaintance. The look he gave her said he’d be back later for her. In other words, he was just putting my mother in a car before returning.

No wonder Sophia Pierce felt the need to get a little too drunk at her husband’s company party. Fucking asshole.

I rubbed my hand across my jaw and considered whether I wanted to stay any longer myself. Though there was plenty of room for me at the penthouse where my parents lived, I’d been staying at the Plaza, so if I left, I wouldn’t have to deal with my mother. But maybe I should go to the penthouse anyway. It wasn’t the newest nanny’s job to take care of a drunken employer. And Sophia might get to keep a shred of dignity if I were the one to attend to her.

I was already at the coatroom when I’d made my decision to leave. The clerk had just handed me my coat when I found a reason to stay. Celia Werner had just walked in, hands thrust in her jacket pockets, her attire nowhere near formal.

She walked toward me. My surprise at seeing her kept me glued to my spot, my mouth slack as I looked her over. Though she wasn’t dressed for the event, she didn’t like the mess that Christina had suggested. Either Celia had cleaned up in the last couple of months or the rumors about her had been exaggerated.

I couldn’t decide if that made me happy or disappointed.

“Do you want to check your coat?” the clerk asked when Celia reached us.

She shook her head and fixed her gaze on me.

I’d had enough time now to gather my wits. “You’re too late, Celia. My father just left. But if you want to wait, I think he’s coming back. He already has a leggy blonde picked out for the evening, though. Do you mind threesomes?”

“I’m not here for Jack, asshole.”

I tensed at the familiar use of my father’s name. “That’s too bad. No one else is going to look at you dressed like that.”

“You want to stand around and throw insults at me all night? Or can you zip it a minute so I can talk to you?”

“I have nothing to say to you.”

“Awesome. Then you can shut the fuck up and listen while I talk.”

I hesitated, wondering what her angle was. Then I decided I didn’t care enough to find out. “While that sounds like a whole hell of a lot of fun, Celia, I think I’ll pass.” I tipped the clerk and started out.

“Hudson.” Her tone was more commanding than was typical for her. Still, I kept walking. “Fine,” she said, running to catch up to me. “I’ll find your father then.”

That stopped me. Though they’d already been together, I detested the idea of a repeat performance. I’d rather imagine my father fucking anyone else—the blonde waiting for him in the event room, even. Just not Celia.

I’d never let on how much it bothered me, but I would try to prevent it any way I could. “What is it you want, Celia?”

Her eyes darted toward the clerk. “Not here. We need to be in private.”

“I’m not—” A noise at the door down the hall stole my attention. It was my father returning from “taking care” of my mother. He hadn’t seen us yet, so I grabbed Celia’s arm and tugged her toward the men’s room. At the door, I said, “Stay.” I went in and checked to make sure the room was empty then I pulled Celia inside.

As I locked the door behind us, there was a brief moment where I considered how different our lives could have been if it hadn’t been for my experiment that summer. How I could have been sneaking away with Celia for a bang in a stall instead of hiding her from my slut of a father. Or maybe not that. I hadn’t ever wanted that, had I?

Something different, though. Not this.

But as Thoreau said, “Never look back unless you’re planning to go that way.” And I was not going that way. Come to think of it, Celia was the one who’d told me that.

I turned back to face her. “You have three minutes. Then I’m taking you out to the curb and putting you in a cab. I’ll even give you some cash, if that’s how you’re used to getting paid.”

Her eyes blazed with the heat of my insult. “Did I mention fuck you, Hudson?”

“I don’t get off on my father’s sloppy seconds. Sorry.” I looked at my watch for effect. “And now you’re at two minutes forty-five.”

She crossed her arms and leaned back against the counter, her eyes narrow with challenge. “I’m willing to bet that I’ll have your attention for longer than that.”

Again, a glance at my watch. “Two minutes forty.”

“I knew I should have talked to Jack instead.”

She’d realized that mentioning my father was her power card. She’d laid it down several times now. Each time it worked.

But I was losing patience. This was the last time I’d ask and my tone let her know that. “What the fuck is it, Celia?”

She brushed the hair off her face and swallowed. “I’m pregnant.”

I opened my mouth to make some smartass remark—it wasn’t my kid after all—and then I realized whose kid it was. I did the math as I glanced at her belly. It had been three months. Would she be showing? Did she look rounder than she had before or was I making it up?

Or was she making it up? All of it could be a lie.

“Are you trying to figure out if I’m lying? Oh, my God. I can prove it if you need me to. Trust me, pregnancy is not something I’d be able to lie about for long.”

While my trust in people was limited, I knew Celia well enough to believe she told the truth. I didn’t like what she had to say, but I believed her.

I ran a hand through my hair. “You’re sure it’s his?”

She shot me an ice-cold glare. “I didn’t sleep around, Hudson.”

“That’s not what I heard.” I tilted my head, recalling Christina’s earlier tales of a Celia gone wild. “Actually heard you were quite the slut these days.”

“From who? From Christina? And you believed that fucking whore cunt?” She closed her eyes, cursing more under her breath. “Whatever. Fine. Yes, I was a little wild this semester. Before I found out I was pregnant. After you.” It was a slip—what she meant, but not what she meant to say. She quickly corrected. “After Jack, rather. But the timing is… It’s your father’s, Hudson. There’s no one else that fits the time frame. And the condom broke.”

“I don’t want to hear that.” I covered my eyes with my hand. As if that could hide me from what she was saying. Not just the condom talk, but the whole conversation—I would have preferred to not have it continue.

“I’m sure you don’t.” A trace of regret laced her words. “But you get to hear it because I blame you.”

Now I was incensed. “For faulty birth control? Or for your bad decision?”

“Oh, don’t even play like you have no comprehension of your culpability. You drove me to him. You gave me no choice.”

“Pathetic, Celia. Take responsibility for your own actions.”

“I am. That’s why I’m here. Now it’s your turn to take responsibility for your actions.” She pointed a finger at me. “And tell me what we’re going to do.”

“What we’re going to do? This is not my problem.” But I already knew it was. Not just because of the reason she’d given, but because this affected my family. Affected my life. It didn’t mean I knew what should be done about it.

Celia straightened. “Then I’ll take it to your father. I’m sure he’ll step up. He’ll have no choice when I get a DNA test.” Again laying her power card. She straightened and started toward the door.

I could have let her go. It would serve Jack right.

But Jack wasn’t the only person who would suffer from this. And Celia knew it.

I pounded the wall behind me with a fist. “Fuck.” Forget Christina as a good partner. Celia had manipulation down to a science. “What do you want from me?”

She flung her arms out to the side in exasperation. “I want you to tell me what to do!”

It was almost funny. As if we were a real couple discussing their unplanned pregnancy. The situation had much that would intrigue me under normal circumstances.

I banged my head against the wall behind me. “What are our options?” I scolded myself for using the word our. It gave her too much power, thinking of us as a partnership.

“Well.” She returned to lean against the counter again. She needed the support, I realized. The conversation was tough. I’d give her that. “I’m not having an abortion. I might have been able to, but I saw the ultrasound. I saw its heartbeat. I can’t do that.”

“So no abortion.” I was glad for that, actually. It didn’t feel right sentencing my unborn sibling to death.

My sibling. Jesus, was this really happening?

“I’m not opposed to adoption.” She talked as if she’d already been through all of this on her own—and she probably had. For me, though, it was new and there was a lot to take in. A lot of different aspects of the situation to absorb.

“My mom will want to keep it.” She let out a single chortle. “Can you just see my mother as a doting grandmother? Either way, my parents will want to know who the father is. My father would kill me if he knew.”

“More like he’d kill my father if he knew.” My father was Warren’s friend. And he’d knocked up his daughter.

Celia sighed. “Let’s just say it wouldn’t be good for either one of us.”

“It would destroy my mother.” Not just my mother. “And my brother and sister.”

She nodded, biting her lip. “I can’t tell him it’s Jack.”

She was right. That much was clear.

And there was only one thing I could think of to make sure that information never came out. “You’ll tell him it’s me.” I set my jaw. “Tell him I’m the father.”

“What?” She lifted her head as if in surprise, but something about her tone was false. “Are you really…would you really do that?” It was more gleeful than hopeful. More triumphant than incredulous.

“Now you’re the one pretending.” I could read her like a book. “You came to me because you knew I’d offer. Don’t even fucking try to convince me you didn’t plan this.”

“I hoped,” she whispered. “Not that I’d get pregnant. But after I did, I hoped you’d offer.”

“Finally we’re getting somewhere.” I leaned back, bracing myself on the wall as I rocked back on my heels. “Then that’s what we’ll do. We’ll say it’s mine.” I worked it out as I spoke. “You can finish this semester. Come back at Christmas and I’ll go with you to the parenting classes or whatever. I’ll play the supportive sperm donor. If you choose to keep it, I’ll set up a trust fund or something. Dad’s money will be my money anyway when I take over the company.”

“Okay.” She took a deep breath. “What about fathering?”

“You want me to have a relationship with it?”

“Don’t talk like it’s a stranger. It will be your brother or sister.”

“Right.” I’d already realized that, but my stomach dropped at the reminder. And since it really was my sibling, could I just abandon any contact with it? If it were Chandler or Mirabelle, I would want to be involved. Even in my own cold, stoic way. “Sure. Fine. Minimal relationship though. I don’t want custody. But that also means I get to help make parenting decisions. Are you going to be okay with that?”

She shrugged as she shook her head. Then said, “I’ll be okay with whatever.” Her eyes glazed like she was overwhelmed. “I don’t even know if I’m keeping it yet.”

Another thought crossed my mind. “I’m not marrying you, Celia.” I straightened to show my seriousness. “This in no way makes us a couple.”

She looked at me with stark unbelief. “I never thought for a moment it did.” But her tone was layered with the subtext of our past. Of a time when she would have wanted exactly that from me. “Nor would I ever expect it. You, I’ve discovered, are incapable of anything remotely like a relationship.”

Perhaps she’d meant to hurt me with her statement. She didn’t. She’d made our new situation easier. I looked her straight in the eye. “I’m glad you know.”

She held my gaze for several seconds. Then her eyes fell to the floor. She shook her head again, as if she were bewildered. As if she were at a loss for words. Finally, she looked up again. “Hudson, why are you doing this?”

I studied the light smudge on the tip of my right shoe as I tried to figure out the answer to that. It wasn’t for my father. I was disappointed that he didn’t have to face up to his actions. As for my mother...I’d begun to understand that the biggest contribution to her drinking was my father’s infidelity. My relationship with her was strained, at best. Yet I did feel an urge to protect her. Was she the reason?

Then my mind flew again to my siblings. Chandler. Mirabelle.

Ah, Mirabelle.

She was a girl who believed in love and rainbows and happily-ever-after—all the things I detested. The breakdown of my parents’ marriage would strip her of those convictions. And that thought felt like a kick in the stomach. I realized I would do anything to prevent that from happening to her. So the why was for Mirabelle then.

There was another reason, and that reason was standing in front of me—her face thin and ashen. Her eyes heavier than I’d remembered them, her smile not as easy as it had once been. I’d chided her for blaming anyone but herself for her predicament, but wasn’t I also culpable? If I hadn’t set the dominos in motion, she’d never have gone to Mabel Shores that night. She’d never have climbed into my father’s bed. She wouldn’t be pregnant now.

Did I care that I held responsibility? Maybe. Maybe I couldn’t care for people in the way that others could, but I did have some sense of duty. I couldn’t explain it, even to myself.

I’d never try to explain it to anyone else.

“Hudson?” Celia prodded me for an answer since I’d been quiet so long.

“I heard you.” I swallowed and raised my eyes to hers. “The family name.” And because I was uncomfortable with the course of my self-examination, I turned spiteful. “Pierce is my legacy. I wouldn’t want it poisoned by my father’s mistakes.”

She sneered and opened her mouth to likely deliver an equally caustic jab.

But I jumped in before her. “Let’s give our families Thanksgiving. We can tell them on Friday. I’ll call you tomorrow to arrange the details of our announcement.” I turned and straightened my bow tie in the mirror. There would be no going back to the event for me, and I wasn’t going to leave Celia behind. “I’ll walk you out.”

We didn’t say another word to each other until she was seated in the backseat of a cab and I was about to shut the door.

“Hudson?”

I bent toward her. “What?”

“Thank you.” Her lip quivered and her eyes glossed, and I remembered that Celia wasn’t like me. She had emotions, she had feelings. This situation was probably more to her than the inconvenience it was for me. A rush of…something…swept through me. Something not quite comfortable. Like I was listening to Schubert’s Adagio for Strings while battling the flu.

More and more lately, the depth of my own ability to feel surprised me. I didn’t like it.

I nodded once and looked for the thing she needed me to say. “Congratulations, Ceeley,” I managed. “Everything’s going to be just fine.”

I didn’t have to try to sound sincere. I was.