two : family reunions
P H I L L I P
♥ ♥ ♥
I HAVE NEVER loved family dinners.
There is just something about them which makes me want to run far, far away from this place and towards my penthouse in the Upper East Side of the city. I think that it has something to do with my mother, who would host her family dinners for no apparent reasons. Today it is the same thing . . . well, that’s what I think.
Pulling up to the iron gates, I push my head out of the window and the blonde locks fall on my face and quickly, I push them back to where they were before. I send a nod towards the man at the gate who gulps—rather harshly in my opinion but I make no movement to acknowledge that I saw it and instead say, “You might want to open the gate soon, Snow. I know that Mother would not be happy that I am late for a family dinner.”
Snow’s eyes widen before he rushes into the guardhouse before pressing a few buttons and then the gate swings open.
“Of co—course, Sir.”
I grin at Snow, give him a nod before I drive the white Rolls Royce into Whittaker Manor’s property.
Whittaker Manor is one of the oldest buildings in New York. It was made during the eighteenth century and has been in the hands of our family for more than a hundred years. Something about the fact that we did some grand deed back then and this house was a gift . . . as well as the money which was given along and the power which the Whittaker name gives to us.
But that’s all I know.
My sister is more of a history major than me.
I’m much better at business, building empires, destroying empires and being a damn good entrepreneur at the time. I say this because of how much of a success Whittaker Industries has become over the last decade that I’ve had the company in my hands. Dad thinks that I have become obsessed with the company. He thinks that it has been a bad thing since I have hardly come home, that I’m always locked up in the office doing a deal, talking with fellow employees about the health of the company. Well, more like shouting. I always shout at my employees and I know that whenever I show up in the office—which is all the time—they shrink back, become scared of me and that just makes me smile and feel more powerful.
Having power over people has always been my right hook and I love it.
I look at the rolling grass hills right beside me while I drive onto the property and could see the light shining from the manor and towards me. I had to narrow my eyes when the lights became too bright to see.
Looks like that Mum did go too out for today.
I drive the car around the fountain driveway and towards the stairs, which right above lays the double door to the entrance. I turned off the car before stepping out and right there, the footman stood.
“Don’t crash it in the walls again, Mal.” I remind him.
I looked Mal in the eyes before I could see the life drain from his face and could see that fear had replaced it. I know that he remembers what happened last time I came to the manor and like him, I don’t want a repeat of that day at all.
“Don’t worry. Sir Phillip, nothing like that will happen today,” he shakes his head, hops into the place where I was before turning the car on and driving it in the direction of the garage, where the other cars of our family lie dormant.
I stand there for a little bit, making sure that nothing bad happens to my car and when I see that it has made the small, safe journey towards the place, I sigh before pushing my hands in my pant’s pocket and taking the stairs two at a time.
Once I climbed the remainder of the stairs and made it to the front door, I didn’t even need to ring the doorbell when the door was thrown open, showing our butler on the other side.
“Sir Phillip,” Winston, our family’s butler, says while gesturing me to come inside.
“Good to see you too, Winston,” I replied right back, taking a step inside the mansion before turning to face him. “Tell me, Winston, where is my darling sister?”
“Brooklyn went to the premiere of Black Marks today but she said that she would . . .” he trails off, glancing at the watch dangling at his neck before looking at me, “be right back at around nine but then she said that she would see your father at the airport and the two of them would make their way here.”
“Really?” I thought that Dad would’ve been here now. This was mandatory dinner—that was at least what Mum said when she called me today—just a few hours ago matter a factly—informing me about this dinner and that not showing up would make a bad impression on her and the rest of my family.
Besides, I think grimly, it would be a bad idea to get on Mother’s bad side today.
“Yes.” Not that surprised by Winston’s one-worded reply, I sent him a nod back before turning around, heading in the direction of the dining room where I know Mum would be at.
And when I opened the doors and saw her, I knew that I was right.
“Phillip!” Mum squeals, jumping up from her place at the table and dashing in my direction. I couldn’t even dodge her open arms before she pulled me into a deep hug. “I missed you, my sweet boy!”
“I missed you too, Mother,” I whispered in her ear before pulling back, keeping her in arm’s length, “but you know that I don’t like hugs.”
She waves off my words while making the choice to pull me into another hug before grabbing ahold of my hand and dragging me towards the table. “No matter that,” she speaks out, “tell me about how the company has been going?”
“The company? Since when have you been interested in anything which has to do with the company?”
“Since I know that it would be the only thing you find interesting nowadays,” she shakes her head at me before pushing me into one of the seats. “It’s not my fault that your father has got you so invested in the company which has made you a part of it so . . . heavily.”
I frown at her words. Heavily? What does heavily even mean?
“What do you mean by that?”
She frowned for a second and when she was right about to answer my question, the sound of the main door being thrown open broke our conversation. The two of us snap our gaze towards the dining hall doors, waiting.
But we didn’t have to wait that long when the doors were heaved open by Winston and he steps aside to reveal the two figures of my father and Brooklyn.
Brooklyn laughs at something which Dad says, flinging her low ponytail over her shoulders while those lime green eyes of hers glow in the soft glow given by the chandlers. But that glow intensified when she set her eyes on me. “Phillip!” she squeals—just like my mother did not too long ago―and flings her body onto mine.
“I missed you as well, Lyn.”
“Well, of course, you would,” she snaps back, bringing her body from mine while looking me deep in the eyes, “you have been so deep in your work that you hardly come home,” then she snorts. “That must have been the reason for this sudden dinner.”
“I would have guessed that too, Phillip.”
I look past Lyn and in the direction of my father. He gives me a nod and I give him one back.
I know that what the two of us have done might have been harsh; something that might have not happened between a normal family.
But we’re not a normal family.
We are a family holding power; a family who have their name plastered against everything across the world; a family who control the top one per cent of the world and a family which have the whole world looking upon us. And that is something which has been taught to Brooklyn and me from a rather young age.
Me mostly since I am the firstborn, meaning that I’ll take over Whittaker Industries on my twenty-third birthday. And I did. Brooklyn had tough teenage years because, during those years, she made the bold choice to become a Victoria’s Secret model and show off her body in designer lingerie.
Mother didn’t approve of her choice of career. Those two bickered back and forth repeatedly, Mum saying that Lyn should choose a different pathway and Lynn saying right back that she has a choice and can do whatever she damn well wants.
That lasted a total of five years before Mum finally accepted her decision of being a model.
But that doesn’t mean that Mum is too happy that she lost the argument.
However, my father loved the fact that his daughter is trying to form her own path instead of following in the family’s footsteps and being a part of the company.
Which means that for me, a much higher pressure was placed.
Nevertheless, I did well with the company.
“Hello, Father,” I say politely, my face turning emotionless like a flip of a switch.
Dad looks right back at me. “You too, Phillip,” and then he nudges his chin towards the table, “shall we start with dinner?”
“Yes,” Mum mummers, “we should now.” She glances towards my sister and sends her a small smile, “It’s nice to see you too, Honey.”
The four of us head towards the dining table and my father takes the head of the table, his blonde locks swept in a messy arrangement after his long flight from Texas, his green eyes glance over the food on the table and when I see his mouth water, I know that he is hungry.
Mother takes the right seat towards father and I take the one opposite her with Lyn right beside me. She should have been beside Mum but I know that she will feel much more comfortable near me. I push my hand down towards her knee—where her hand’s fiddle with one another and give one of her hands a light squeeze, letting her know that I’m here for her.
She snaps her eyes towards me and smiles, a small smile to me.
Then we turn to see people coming through the other door—the one which leans from here and towards the kitchen and in their hands lays food over food for us to dig in.
“Is this really the least that you could do, Mum?” Lyn questions, gazing at the food.
Mother frowns at her questions. “Why? Did you expect less coming from me, Honey?”
“No!” she rushes out to speak.
Then there was an awkward tension between the two of them.
“So tell me,” a voice speaks from the head of the table, “how was the movie premiere today? I heard a lot of great things about the film while on the flight back home.”
Lime green eyes alight with a flame, Brooklyn starts talking about the movie. “Oh, Daddy! It was amazing. I loved the movie and the red carpet and Colin did such a good job in there.”
“Colin? Colin was in this movie?” I speak up, questioning the fact which she just spoke. ” I didn’t know that he acted in Black Marks."
“You didn’t know,” her eyebrows scrunch, “how is that possible?”
Mother peaks up at that last comment before saying, “Maybe it’s because he cares so much more about his job as CEO than the people around him.” she finishes off with a snort of her words.
“Not surprised there at all, Mummy—”
She made a mistake.
We all knew that she made a mistake with her wide eyes and her lips turning themselves into an ‘O.’
I glance over towards Mum, watching her reaction with her daughter’s words. Her eyes widened, her mouth opens wide enough and I could have sworn that there are tears starting to build up in her silver eyes.
Mum closes her mouth and then opens it a second later. “Brook—”
“Excuse me, everyone.” Lyn stands up from her chair and sprints out of the room, with the sound of the door shutting behind her the only sound echoing around. Everyone was staring at her retreating figure until the door closed and all that was left was Dad, Mum, I and the staff who were too busy serving us to notice the tension happening between the two Whittaker women in the room.
I turned from facing the door to face Mum—who had her face down, playing with the fork in the pasta sauce, her face showing the despair in her body right now.
I know what she is feeling. She is feeling that she has let Lyn down and that now . . . the two of them are growing distant and that they could never get that amount of time back before the distance between the two of them becomes so great, that there is no way to fix it.
“Let’s start with the main course.”
Nice save, Dad. Real’ nice save
♥ ♥ ♥
I EXIT FROM my car in the Upper East Side before passing my keys to the valet and making my way inside the building. My hands are stuffed in my pocket and from the sounds of shouting happening from the entrance, I can tell that my face has been recognised by the people of New York.
Being the CEO of a major company which goes international, it is expected for this much publicity to happen and I can be sure that my publicist is having a night of red wine and chocolates—something which one of her favourite things to do.
“Mr. Whittaker!” I stop and face the receptionist to see her holding a phone to the crook of her neck while a red blush coats her checks.
I could tell that I was making her nervous with my silver eyes darkening, the way which I just topple over most people around me. And most importantly, the way in which I hold myself in the presence of other people. At Whittaker Manor, I’m . . . free. From the public eye given by my last name and sometimes freedom is the one thing which you need most in the world.
“This was given by a Miss . . .” she trails off, looking at the name on top of the envelope, ”Sneddon, I think?” She passes me the envelope before she looks at me, “and she is waiting for you upstairs in the penthouse too.”
I frown. What would Gemma be doing up there? I remember telling her that I would be going to the family dinner today and that it would last the whole night. But then it finished earlier than expected because of the Mother-daughter drama happening between the two of them but that is entirely irrelevant.
And she was supposed to be out of town for the whole week
The big question is what is she doing here?
I look down at the envelope in hand while I make my way in the direction of the elevator and when I step in, alone, I open it before looking at the contents.
Inside was just a single photo and behind it just one sentence.
I’m ready for you, Sir.
I turn to the photo to see a picture of Gemma, her long dark black hair swept around her shoulders and those chocolate brown eyes staring at a figure of herself. It is a photo, taken in my penthouse but someone else and what she is wearing is . . . well, it has a popular effect on my member that’s for sure. Her little body was wrapped in a sheer dark blue babydoll and it is taking everything in me from exiting the lift and running all the way upstairs just to rip the material off her flawless skin.
Looking up, I see that I’m almost up there. Almost up to the top of the building. I quickly push the photo back into the envelope, just taking one look before sealing it up tightly and throwing it in my pocket. My hands start fiddling with my tie, trying to get it off because I know that it would be a bitch to get off as soon as I touch her skin. I just start loosening it and at the same time undoing some of the buttons before a ‘ding’ resonates in the space and the door opens wide open.
Since I live in the penthouse, the lift which I came in is a private one and it goes all the way up to my front door, thankfully.
I rush into the foyer, taking two steps at a time and when I make it to the living room—which has a full view of the New York skyline but that is not what draws my attention.
No, it’s a black-haired, brown-eyed woman whose sipping on a bottle of wine. I push past her and stare at the kitchen, and there sits a bottle of Dom. One of my more expensive bottles but that is a price I’m willing to pay to have Gemma Sneddon over at my place.
“I knew that this would’ve been a good idea, Phillip,” Gemma speaks, gazing into the glass of wine, swirls it around and takes a sip of it.
She doesn’t even look at me. That clever little minx.
I start pulling the blazer of my shoulders. “Well . . . you should have told me that you’re gonna come,” I throw the blazer to the side, “or otherwise I would have missed Mum’s dinner and instead, would come over to your once your flight landed.”
“You could have done that,” she places the glass down the nearest surface before standing up, tightening the white robe around her body and making her way over to me. “But I thought that surprising you might be the best thing.”
She stops right in front of me, lifts her eyes to mine and I could see them have a wicked sparkle in them.
And then she grins a wicked grin before placing her hand on my arm. “And . . . I think that I was right.”
She moves her hand, down to my own hand before pulling it from my side and towards the tight knot at the base of her stomach. Gemma places my hand on the knot and I tighten my hold on it. I know what she is trying to do. She is trying to seduce me and it’s not like that I won’t get more harder than what I am right now.
I start to untie the knot, allowing it to be as slow as I can and it lasts all but a few seconds before I hear Gemma groan. “If you were gone to take a long time I would have done it myself.”
And she did exactly that.
The black-haired woman pulled my hand from the knot, opened it before throwing it over her shoulders and towards the nearest couch.
“See? Much easier. I should have done it instead.”
But I didn’t listen to her words. No, my eyes were stuck on her figure. The tan skin which is shown by the dark blue babydoll before they make their way down her legs to her thighs. I don’t even make a noise before I thrust my hands around her waist and pull her body into mine. Her mouth opened, eyes wide but right before she was going to say anything, I silenced her with a kiss.
It was anything but gentle. It was hot, fast, rough, nasty, fierce and all in all, unholy thoughts came into my mind.
“Shall we take this to the bedroom, Sir?” Gemma’s whispers near my lips.
I say nothing in return before she jumps up, allowing her legs to wrap around my waist and she moans from the feeling of me hard against her soft skin.
The both of us travelled towards my room, all the while kissing, moaning and me biting other areas of her skin. More her neck than anywhere else. ”Please . . . Phillip, just fuck me.”
I nod to her words before pushing open my bedroom door and quickly pressing her against my now closed door. I kissed Gemma deep, before asking for entrance into her mouth—which she happily gives to me. Our tongues fight with each other, both of us fighting to see who would win but obviously, I won in the end. I pulled my lips from hers and started trailing little butterflies kisses down her chin, then the line of her throat and towards her collarbone. I start sucking on the skin of her neck, which elects moans from Gemma and that just hardens my member more than it could get.
Making the choice to pull her from the door and I start carrying her towards my bed. I took only three steps before I threw her onto her back, on the dark silk bed sheets. I climb over her body before straddling her. I start to do the rest of my buttons and that’s when Gemma raises her body, helping me before pulling the shirt off my shoulders and throws the material to the side. Those brown eyes of hers look into mine before smirking, gazing down at my chest and starting to kiss the hard pecs which I get from going to the gym every day, early in the morning before I get to the office.
“I missed this you know,” she whispers, kissing my nipple before looking at me, “I’m sorry for going away for so long but they needed me back home.”
“That’s fine.” My answer was short and to the point. It needs to be those things when I just want to take my pants off and push my hardness into her. And I know that she wants the same thing. I know that she is wet, really wet. She understood that from the way that my eyes darkened from their normal silver colour and she stopped, lying back down.
I had to stand up from the bed, unfortunately, where I pulled down my pants, my shoes and my socks. If I ever have to fuck a girl, I always take my socks off before doing the deed. I rapidly did those tasks before returning back to my place above Gemma and kissing her, a quick kiss to leave her wanting more. I move down her body, taking the babydoll off as well until I reach her centre. Along the way, I kissed and sucked down her skin and I am doing it here, right on the edge of her inner thighs.
“Oh, Philip!” she moans, throwing her head back while her hands fisting the bedsheets around her. I lift my head slightly, looking at her face full of passion and ecstasy before I too, grin and return back to a job well done.
I push my head back towards her inner through, continuing to the kisses before I reach her centre. I kiss her folds and she starts to squirm under me but then I raise, towards her face and kiss her. I would have done more but I could feel my cock getting harder and harder by going up and down her body.
“I would have done more, Gemma, my love, but I need to be inside of you. Right. Now.”
I smile at her closed eyes before turning to face the drawers, where I had to (again) lean over her body and open it. Peering inside, I grab one of the silver covered foisl, bring it to my teeth and tear it open with my teeth. Watching her closed eyes, I slip the condom on my cock before I push into her.
Her once closed eyes opened wide and her mouth formed an ‘O’ while I started to thrust into her body. It was a surprise, I could see it on her face with the way she reacted. She would have expected for me to do more foreplay, to bring out more of my . . . my toys but I am way too lazy to be able to do those things for I just have to deal with this, plain vanilla sex.
I keep thrusting in and out of her, kissing her mouth, her cheeks, her neck, her nipples. Anywhere I could reach.
I push harder, faster into her until what fills the room are our throws of passion, screaming at each other, the slamming of skin on skin. I thrust into her and when I could feel her clench around me, I grit my teeth. “You do not come, Gemma. Do you hear me? Do not come."
“I’m—I’m trying,” she manages those only words between her moans.
The only response was a nod of her head.
I suck on her neck, leaving hickeys everywhere as I continue to drive my cock into her.
And this goes on until my thrusts get fast as they can. I could feel my climax coming. I make one final thrust into her before I release, allowing my seed to come out.
Leaning forward, I whisper, “You may come now, my love.”
Gemma releases a breath before she allows her own release to come, a groan escaping from her lips before she falls harshly onto the bed, those black locks of hers a mess after our sex, her eyes closed and a small smile covering her lips.
I roll over her body, off the bed and walk towards the bathroom and throw the now filled condom in the bin before walking out, a towel in hand. Making my way towards Gemma, I start to clean her release using the wet towel. I tried to touch her opening but she just squirmed away squealing “I’m sore, Philip!” before moving to the other side of the bed.
I allow a small smile to come onto my face before I cover Gemma with a blanket. Gazing at her face, I turn to grab my boxers, pushing them up my thighs before they rest on my hips and leave the room.
Leaving her alone.
♥ ♥ ♥
so . . . what do you think of the chap?
i know that there is a lot of spice in this chapter but i felt like that it was needed for phillip’s story and how hera and he meets.
and more importantly, what do you think of the roguishly, handsome phillip whittaker? in my opinion, i find him hot . . . but i think that’s because i created him.