F Paul Wilson - Secret History 02

BOOK: F Paul Wilson - Secret History 02
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Sibs

 

by F. Paul
Wilson

 

 
 

Contents

 

February 4 12:45 A.M.

February 5 9:52 A.M.

11:22 A.M.

February 7 5:32 P.M.

February 8 10:20 A.M.

February 9 9:47 A.M.

5:45 P.M.

February 10 11:45 A.M.

2:00 P.M.

6:02 P.M.

February 11 10:09 A.M.

1:51 P.M.

February 12 6:45

4:42 P.M.

7:20 P.M.

February 13 5:36 P.M.

February 14 5:42 A.M.

4:20 P.M.

February 15 5:33 A.M.

February 16 5:45 A.M.

6:50 A.M.

10:29 A.M.

5:06 P.M.

6:26 P.M.

9:30 P.M.

February 17 8:06 A.M.

10:00 A.M.

1:37 P.M.

11:02 P.M.

February 18 2:32 A.M.

7:52 A.M.

12:48 P.M.

9:30 P.M.

11:44 P.M.

February 19 11:40 A.M.

1:57 P.M.

10:32 P.M.

February 20 12:30 A.M.

2:45 A.M.

3:30 A.M.

9:32 A.M.

10:07 A.M.

2:33 P.M.

11:35 P.M.

February 21 12:05 A.M.

February 23 8:22 A.M.

1:30 P.M.

2:55 P.M.

February 24 12:10 A.M.

12:25 A.M.

1:08 A.M.

February 25 11:30 A.M.

12:30 P.M.

1:24 P.M.

February 26 12:17 A.M.

1:35 A.M.

6:05 A.M.

10:22 A.M.

9:35 P.M.

February 27 8:22 A.M.

February 28 6:48 P.M.

 

 

 
February
4
12:45 A.M.
 

           
It was an uneventful evening until
it got crazy. Craziness had been the farthest thing from Ed Bannion's mind when
he invited his younger brother into the city.

 

           
Phil came in through the Lincoln
Tunnel from
Tinton
Falls
,
New Jersey
, and Ed met him at a midtown parking lot.
No special occasion, just keeping in touch. They went downtown and then began a
steady march back up: Before-dinner drinks at The Airplane in
SoHo
, and off-off-Broadway play in
Kips
Bay
, shrimp in green sauce at El Quijote in
Chelsea
, and finally a nitecap in the Oak Bar at
the Plaza. And it was there in the Oak Bar, there in the heart of the jewel in
Ivana Trump's tiara, while they were standing side by side, each with a foot on
the brass rail, staring at the misty painting of the Plaza fountain behind the
cash register, that the young blonde squeezed between them and ordered a double
JD on the rocks.

 

           
"Hi, guys!" she said,
bright and cheery with a smile that made Ed wince in its glare.

 

           
A real piece. She looked around
twenty-five but she could have been thirty. Either way, she was younger than
Ed. Her wavy blond hair was like a pale cloud around her head, and her face had
a fresh, All-American look that contrasted sharply with the high-slit leather
mini-skirt and the low-cut sweater that exposed smooth, bouncy crescents of her
breasts. She had what they call a bod that wouldn't quit. Sexy as all hell, and
not the least bit shy.

 

           
"So, what's happening here with
you Plaza-type dudes?"

 

           
"We're not—" Ed began but
Phil cut him off.

 

           
"Just hanging out," Phil
said. "Waiting for something to happen."

 

           
"Yeah?" she said. "My
name's Ingrid, and I'm waiting for the same thing. Isn't that something?"

 

           
"That's something, all
right," Phil purred.

 

           
Ed stared at his brother who had
suddenly become cool, smooth, and seductive. He hardly recognized him. Ed was a
bachelor, but good lord, Phil had a wife and child back home in
Jersey
!

 

           
"You guys look alike. You
related?"

 

           
"We're brothers," Ed said,
feeling he should add his two cents. The clash of her bold and brassy attitude
with her angel-soft good looks excited him. "I'm the older one—but not by
much."

 

           
"Yeah?" she said with a
seductive smile. "You never could tell. You guys come here often?"

 

           
"This is our headquarters
whenever we're in the Apple," Phil said.

 

           
Ed struggled to keep from laughing
out loud.

 

           
"Me, too," Ingrid said.
"I've got an appointment with Mike Nichols this week. He's shooting his
next feature right here in
Manhattan
, you know, and my agent's got me an audition with him. So I'm just
killing some time while I wait for Solly to firm up the exact time and place.
What're you guys in town for?"

 

           
"We're in textiles," Phil
said with this oily grin.

 

           
"Y' know… rugs and stuff? We
sell textiles by the mile."

 

           
Ed was shocked by his brother's
facile way with a lie. Phil was a Wa-Wa manager. He wouldn't know a broadloom
from a flying carpet.

 

           
"Really?" Ingrid said.
"That sounds boring as shit. Can you guys fuck?"

 

           
Ed saw his brother's eyes bulge as
he felt his own jaw drop. That sweet face, those innocent eyes. And talking
like that!

 

           
Phil glanced quickly at Ed, then
back at Ingrid.

 

           
"Sure we do. What do you think
we are, queer?"

 

           
"I don't know," she said.
"I've been crammed in between the two of you and neither one of you has
even tried to feel me up. Something's wrong here."

 

           
"My brother and I were raised
to be gentlemen," Phil said.

 

           
"I kinda like that," she
said, slipping a finger inside Phil's shirt, "but you can carry that
polite shit too far. Want to come up to my room? It's got a great view of the
park."

 

           
"I don't know about that,"
Phil said. "What's it gonna cost me?"

 

           
Her smile was sweet. "Cost?
Nothing. My treat. But there's a condition."

 

           
Ed didn't like the sound of this.

 

           
"Phil, uh, maybe you should—"

 

           
"The both of you have to
come," Ingrid said.

 

           
Ed swallowed and wet his dry lips.

 

           
"You want both of us?"

 

           
She looked at him and laughed. His
expression must have reflected the excited turmoil within him.

 

           
"Yeah! Guys always run out of
steam before I do. One ain't enough, know what I mean? So I like to have a
back-up along. That too kinky for you fellows?"

 

           
Thoughts of herpes, syphilis, the
clap, and AIDS ran through Ed's mind. Then she ran a hand over his crotch. From
the startled look on Phil's face, Ed guessed that she was doing the same to his
brother. Phil's voice was strained. "What floor?"

 

           
Before long they were twelve stories
above Central Park South. Ingrid wasted no time once they were in the room. She
offered them each a toot from the small vial of coke she produced, took a good
snort herself, then knelt down between them and unzipped their flies.

 

           
And as the interlude progressed, it
got crazier and crazier. This was one
hungry
lady.

 

           
Eventually it came to a point where
Phil was sprawled back on the hotel bed, naked, moaning as Ingrid worked on
him. She knelt on the carpet with her thighs spread wide as her head bobbed up
and down over Phil's pelvis. And Ed… he knelt behind her, gripping her black
garter belt like a rodeo rider hanging onto the reins of a bucking bronco, his
pelvis slapping against her smooth buttocks as he slid in and out of her.

 

           
She paused and lifted her head from
Phil.

 

           
"Baby, don't stop now,"
Phil said. His voice was thick, hoarse.

 

           
She turned her head and looked over
her shoulder at Ed. In the dim light filtering across the bed from the open
bathroom door, he could see her face. Her eyes glistened and her cheeks were
flushed. Beautiful, and as insatiable as she was uninhibited.

 

           
"Do it faster," she said.
"And harder! I want to
come
,
damn it!"

 

           
Ed said nothing. He'd already come
once himself, and was climbing the upslope toward number two. He picked up the
pace, ramming deeper into her.

 

           
"Oh, yessss!" she said
through a groan, and then went back to doing Ed.

 

           
I
just don't believe this
! Ed told himself for the hundredth time in the last
hour.

 

           
This was the kind of thing that
happened only in porno movies, in fantasies, not in real life. At least not in
Ed Bannion's life. Fifteen years in this town— sixteen in August—and never
anything even close to an encounter like this. When he'd got the job with
Paramount
he'd been a sex-starved law school grad
dreaming of starlet sandwiches and orgies. Even if he was in legal and based in
New York
,
Paramount
was
Paramount
, right? Wrong.
Nothing
! He'd never even
seen
a starlet, let alone a star. Paramount—hah! He might as well have been working
for Exxon for all the poontang he'd got through the company.

 

           
But tonight! Tonight made up for the
long wait. He'd carry the memory of this to his grave. Maybe even beyond.

 

           
He felt the pressure growing within
the basement of his pelvis, surging outward, building…

 

           
He leaned forward and reached around
her, grabbing her breasts.

 

           
… building…

 

           
He buried his face in her fragrant,
wavy hair, and nuzzling the nape of her neck.

 

           
… building…

 

           
Suddenly he knew he was past the
point of no return. He stiffened, cried out, then bit down hard as he exploded
within her.

 

           
Ingrid screamed in pain. She
straightened up and twisted, pulling free of Ed as she rose to her feet. She
stood there, naked but for her garter belt and black stockings, staring at Ed
and his brother, her hands to her mouth, her eyes wide with what looked to Ed
like shock and horror.

 

           
"What's the matter, babe?"
Phil said.

 

           
"Oh, no!" she moaned.
There was no passion in the sound, only revulsion and unplumbed misery.
"Oh, God, no!"

 

           
Ed turned cold inside. Something was
terribly wrong here. What—?

 

           
She turned to run and immediately
slammed into the wall. She bounced off it and blindly dashed toward Ed,
accelerating as she passed him.

 

           
"Christ, no! The window!"
Ed said and tried to grab her leg.

 

           
But she was moving too fast. He
missed her and could only watch helplessly as she rammed into the lower pane of
the big double-hung window. For an instant it looked as if she might bounce off
that, too, but then came a sharp crash like a shot, like an explosion, and
suddenly the glass was coming apart all around her and she was still moving
outward, taking a million bright dagger shards with her. And then she was gone,
a keening wail trailing behind her.

BOOK: F Paul Wilson - Secret History 02
13.64Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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