“Ayden, look at me.” I tip up his chin and hold his face in place with my hands, caressing his cheek bones with my thumbs. “I’m the happiest I’ve ever been in my life and it’s all down to you. You know that, don’t you?”
He answers with a slanted smile and a nod.
“I can’t keep my hands off you and that’s why I’m sore, it’s nothing to do with you being rough or too demanding. You’ve done nothing wrong.” I take hold of his fists and try to lift him again. This time he obliges and sits down next to me on my right. “Talk to me.” I wrap my left arm around him and rest my head under the crook of his neck.
After a lengthy silence he clears his throat to speak. “I’m going to fly out to Hong Kong this afternoon.”
I don’t believe my ears...
“I’ll be able to sleep on the flight and get the meeting brought forward so I only have to be away two days instead of three.” He plants a kiss on my head. “When I get back, you can come and stay over at Stone Heath and, if you want, you can move in. I’ll arrange to have your things collected and you can either hold onto your apartment or rent it out, whatever you think’s best. How does that sound?” He stops to take a breath.
“Like a plan.” I state, gazing up at him adoringly. “My Mr. P. is back.”
“Baby, I was never away,” he assures me, although I suspect he’s just being cute.
As we pull up outside my apartment, I notice the wrought iron window dressing and the alarm box flashing on the wall, next to the front door. He has kept his promise to keep me safe. Whilst we were in Rome he’d arranged for an alarm company to install, what will probably be a state of the art sensor system.
I edge over and settle myself across his lap; my favourite place in all the world. “Will you be alright?” I ask tentatively, tracing the outline of his jaw with my right hand.
“Why wouldn’t I?” He snaps a little too abrasively.
“You know what I mean, after everything. You have no reason to feel vulnerable or unsure, right?”
“Are you trying to tell me how to run my business Miss Parker?” He rubs his nose against mine. “I only felt vulnerable because I couldn’t come to terms with how I felt about you. I know now.”
I hold his gaze for as long as he will let me. “And do you still need the lock of my hair?”
He considers the question and twists the forefinger of his left hand round and round in my hair, creating an unruly ringlet. “I’ll always need it Beth, you know that.”
I pull on his firm shoulders, trying to break his reflective mood. “So now you have my hair, the visual memory of my noisy orgasm and all my love, you have the best of me.” I forge a playful smile when really, with every passing second, I’m dying inside with a single gut-wrenching thought: I’ve lied to him.
“I do and I can’t ask for more than that. All I need now is a kiss and I’ll be on my way.”
Why am I doing this?
I adopt a serious expression and hold him with fierce blue stare, changing my position so I can straddle him. I don’t care if it’s daytime, if the neighbours are watching or if Lester is pretending to read his newspaper. This is what I want to do, this is what he needs. A goodbye kiss he won’t forget.
Resisting the need to rub up against him, I grip his outer thighs with my knees and squeeze tight, pinning him beneath me. I might think I’m taking the lead, but he’s seducing me with his passivity: darkening eyes and his dextrous hands, that’s all it takes.
I’m kissing his neck on the left side, allowing my tongue to taste the warm flesh shifting beneath it, making my way to his chin, taking my time, savouring his delectable face, smothering him with love. His fragrant hair folds and separates around my fingers like strands of liquorish and I feel my breath quickening as he erection presses into me. He raises his hips off the seat in search of a point of contact.
When my lips find his, it’s like striking gold: nothing compares to the way this man can kiss. He could make me come with no more than soft words and a wet, ravishing kiss. He doesn’t use his tongue to taste and explore, he uses it to make love.
“Ayden,” I whisper, fighting for breath. “You’re doing it on purpose, you’re making me come with a kiss.” I begin to moan. This was supposed to be my farewell and here he is fucking me in broad day light with his tongue. I can’t help myself, I begin to rub up against him, grinding against his erection.
Sensing my impending orgasm, Ayden presses the button in the door for the privacy glass. Now we are soundproofed and shielded on all four sides in our private world, I need not hold back. My hands are fumbling, unbuttoning his jeans. I need to feel him inside me.
“No.” Ayden takes hold of my hands and prevents me from unzipping him. I try to shake off his hands. “No Beth.”
“Yes Ayden, let go of my hands. I want you.” I can hear myself shouting so acute is my craving for him.
“I don’t want to hurt you.” The look on his tormented face cuts me to the quick, but I cannot help myself, he’s just too damn hot.
“You won’t Ayden I’m so wet.” I kiss him over and over. “Please, please.”
He releases my hands and holds his own high in submission, allowing me to take out his pulsating cock. I gasp and begin clinching involuntarily, wrapping my arms around his neck and leaning backwards, urging him to come with me, to lay me out on the seat.
In a split second he has me beneath him and he’s tearing at my jeans and my panties, dragging them to my knees and feeling me with his right hand, testing for moisture, making sure I’m ready for him.
“Don’t worry Ayden, I’m ready,” I pant, so wanton I hardly recognise myself, I’ve never felt quite so reckless. What’s got into me? Has the prospect us being parted for three days reignited my sexual appetite? Whatever the reason, my pants are down, his cock is out. If ever I needed to be fucked, it’s now.
I watch as he reaches into his pocket and tears off the top of the condom packet with his teeth. I’m writhing, my hands are gripping the edge of the seat and my heart is racing. I’m forgetting my lie.
Looking me in the eye, he rolls the condom down the length of his erect penis. “Beth, I don’t want to do this,” he mutters in a voice coated in anguish.
His words still me. I realise, he’s doing this for me, not for himself. In fact the thought of inflicting actual bodily harm is causing him pain. I sit up, affronted. “Then don’t.” I pull up my underwear and my jeans.
He can’t believe his eyes. “What?” He takes hold of himself with a motionless hand.
“I’m not going to force you to do something you don’t want to do, for the sake of my own pleasure. We both have to want this.”
He’s shaking his head from left to right, screwing up his face and pursing his lips as if he’s experiencing actual physical pain.
Dear God what have I done?
“Don’t do this Beth. I’m about to fly half way round the world and you’re mind fucking me.” Impulsively, he takes hold of my upper arms and drags me down onto the leather seat. “I’m not going to get on that fucking plane feeling bad about not pleasing you, it’s the only thing I want to do, so let’s just do it.”
Now it’s my turn to feel slighted. “How dare you talk to me like that. You’re the one who just fucked me with your tongue. I was about to give you a good bye kiss and leave.” I’m so enraged, I could spit.
“We both know that’s not true. You take great delight in unravelling me and here, in the back seat of my car is your favourite playground. But that’s ok because you get off on it.”
With that, I slap him hard across the face with my right hand. “That’s not true.” Tears are filling my eyes, my lower lip is starting to quiver.
He takes hold of my offending hand and pulls it to his lips, angling his face to kiss my palm before raising my arms above my head, gripping my wrists in his powerful left hand. As hard as I try I cannot break free.
“You drive me fucking crazy,” he calls out for the whole world to h
ear and presses a button on the door behind my head. “Just drive.”
I feel the engine starting and the car moving away from my apartment. What the hell is he doing? With his left hand pins me down, he yanks down my jeans and panties, spreads my legs with his right hand, keeping them parted with his knees. I can’t help but be aroused. Just one look into his wild, indigo eyes tells me that he intends to fuck me senseless, and that’s exactly what I want.
I feel his fingers stroking and caressing me, feeling every fold and inch of my drenched skin. He slides a warm finger inside and I moan and push into him, urging him to make me come.
His hand stills and I lower my chin and focus on him, gasping at what I see. He’s enraged, glaring at me and about to explode.
“You’re not sore and you’re not swollen, and you look perfect. Why did you lie to me Beth?”
He inserts a second finger and pushes deeper into me. I’m so turned-on I can barely speak, let alone confess.
My body responds, I move involuntarily against his hand, pinioned beneath him with no hope of freeing myself. “Ayden,” I call out. “Listen to my body, what’s it saying to you?”
He turns away, he isn’t listening to me or my body, he’s not motivated by a need to please me into submission, he’s being driven on by one mindless objective. To get me to the point where I’m so aroused I will say and do anything.
With the swiftness of an athlete, he lifts me from my horizontal position and flips me over so I am lying across his lap: my head on the seat to the left of him and my stomach resting on his knees. I try to push up with my elbows but he snatches at my hands, and holds them together against my lower back. I know what’s about to happen next and the thought of it has me in a sexual frenzy.
He slides his hand over my bottom and slips two wet fingers inside me, I clench onto him, moaning and panting away the feeling of total submission.
“Tell me why you lied to me, is there someone else? Is that why you’re in such a hurry to get me out of the way?”
What!
“No, no-one, but I can’t say,” I moan helplessly, so close to an orgasm that I think I will crush his fingers.
“I need to know why you lied to me. I can take the bullshit off everyone else, but not off you Beth.” He slaps my backside hard. I cry out, feeling the stinging sensation a single second before he sinks his fingers into me again. My body is contorting and I’m fighting for breath, over stimulated and climaxing onto him.
“I’m waiting.”
What’s he doing to me?
“Ayden, stop.” He slaps me again and this time so forceful is his thrusting that I come onto his hand again, screaming out his name.
As he massages my tingling cheeks, he continues with his interrogation. “You’ve been a very bad girl. Why did you lie to me Beth?”
When his hand slaps my tender flesh this time, he pushes his hand beneath me and focuses his attention on my clitoris, making me wince and convulse onto his knees. I’m fast approaching my limit, I can’t take any more. It’s too much. Where’s the love in this? What started out as an erotic encounter has become terrifying. I don’t think he’s going to stop until I tell him the truth.
“Romeo,” I whimper, sobbing into the seat. He pulls his hand from beneath me and slackens his grip on my bruised wrists. I’m shaking uncontrollably and struggling to catch my breath between sobs. When he reaches over to me I flinch and pull away until I’m just a small, tightly wound body, lying in the foetal position on the back seat of his silver Rolls Royce.
Minutes pass, they feel like hours.
“Please take me home.” I can’t even look at him. I pull up my panties and jeans and try to flatten my hair. With little thought, I pull it back and clip it off my face. My T-shirt serves as a cloth to pat my cheeks and to wipe my nose. I look a mess. I feel a wreck.
Ayden issues and instruction; “Back to Miss Parker’s apartment.” He then turns to me.
He attempts to speak, but is dumbstruck when I raise my eyes and he sees my terror. Both his hands cover his face, more out of shame than despair. There is a metre of space between us, but it might as well be an ocean. I cannot touch him and he doesn’t know how to reach out to me.
***
The car pulls up outside my apartment once again. I make a move to leave and then turn back. He deserves to hear the truth, it won’t make him feel any better about what he’s done, but it will make my disloyalty a little more bearable. Fighting back sobs I confess.
“Jake texted me today while we were in the air and asked me to get you on an earlier flight to Hong Kong because, quote, ‘the shit’s hitting the fan’ and you need to be there. So I lied to you so you’d leave me, because I knew you wouldn’t go unless I had to be on my own for some reason. It was a stupid lie. That’s the truth.” I brush away my tears, wipe my nose with the back of my hand and take a fortifying breath.
His horror is palpable.
“Bye Ayden. Have a safe flight.”
Just as I’m stepping out of the car he calls out, “Beth! … I told you I’d fuck up didn’t I?”
I turn to see his tear stained face.
“I don’t deserve you. I never have.” He squeezes his eyes shut, barely able to speak. “Tell me truthfully, what we had in Rome was good, wasn’t it?”
I lower my head, trying to hold back my tears long enough to get the words out. “No, it wasn’t good Ayden ... it was perfect.”
I take the long walk to my security door and then my front door, just about managing to place one foot in front of the other. I knew the next three days were going to be difficult, now they will be unbearable.
Every time Dan relives his conversation with Elise, he cannot help but smile. Here they were less than a week ago, total strangers. Here they are now comrades in arms.
He gets back to his look-out post just in time to spot the return of the ‘happy’ couple. He checks his watch: 1540hrs. Anxiously, he waits for her to step out of the silver Rolls, crossing his fingers that Stone will leave her to her fate: to him.
He waits.
Thirty minutes later, he’s still waiting. With every passing second he’s becoming more agitated; his fingers are twitching, his back is aching from standing. The wait is excruciating, but he cannot tear his eyes away.
Without a word of warning, the car pulls away. He’s glancing left and right, listening for the security door to slam shut: Nothing. “What the fuck?”
All he can do is pull up a chair and watch darkness fall, he daren’t move. He stands. A Peugeot appears and turns around in the cul-de-sac then drives away and, for the next thirty minutes that’s all that happens until …
Like a glowing metal object moving across the night sky, the silver Rolls Royce glides into view. No-one emerges, and then he sees her. She steps tentatively out of the car, stops and turns to face him, says something.
Through his zoom lens, he focuses on her tear stained face; she’s the ghost he has lived with all these years, pale, lifeless. Her clothes are creased and her hair …
“What the fuck has he done to you princess?” Dan’s left hand grapples with the curtain, screwing it up into a tight ball, rage sweeps through his veins like an avalanche. “I’ll make him pay for this.”
All his senses are on high alert. He’s listening for the security door to slam. There is goes. He’s watching the Rolls weave its way around the cul-de-sac and disappear down the road. There it goes. The coast is clear.
Carrying his rucksack, he slips the straps over his gloved hands, pulls his front door to but does not lock it, knowing he may need to return sharpish. With due care and attention, he deploys his best covert skills and descends the stairs, one step at a time …
The emotional torment that comes after a break-up far exceeds any physical suffering. I feel as if my spirit has been broken. I’ve been violated, all because of a foolish and unnecessary lie. I can’t forgive him and he can’t forgive himself for subjecting me to sexual torture.
Once insi
de, I realise all my luggage is in the boot of his car, but it doesn’t matter. I won’t be dressing-up any time soon. I click down the button on my Yale lock, resting my hand against the door, trying to hold back the pain; it’s impossible it’s inside me, ripping me apart like an exploding firework. All I want to do is climb into bed and sleep. When I wake, all this will have been a terrible nightmare. I’ll get up and wander onto our terrace and feast on croissants and fruit while Ayden reads out the headlines.
Please God …
The car is stationary outside. From behind my curtain, I watch dark clouds forming like a suffocating shroud over my home, over my heart. The elements converge, creating a bleak and sombre backdrop to a make-believe world. But, I’m home now, it’s back to reality, and what a fucking miserable reality it is.
My laptop sits on the kitchen table. While I’ve been collecting memories that will live with me forever, it’s been collecting dust. I lift open the lid and return to a world I know; a world where music comforts me, offers me catharsis and peace of mind. Right now I’ll do whatever it takes to stop this agonising heartache.
But, I’m not prepared for what I see. The desktop picture appears: it’s that picture. I can take anything but not that. My legs give way and I hold onto the back of the chair for support. Barely able to focus, I scroll down my iTunes library, knowing the exact song I’m looking for. Rihanna asks the question for me:
What now …?
She puts my thoughts to music and I collapse onto the chair, crumpled and misshapen. I look down at my hands, resting my gaze on my engagement ring; a perfect sapphire in the shape of a heart encased in a constellation of diamonds. Focusing on the irony and not its beauty, I pull at it until my finger wriggles free and hold it up to the light between my finger and thumb. It must have cost the earth.
Reluctantly, I place it on the table where it glistens and winks at me with every step I take away from it. I look back, fighting off a magnetic pull, but it has no hold on me now.
Story of Us trilogy 01: TouchStone for Play Page 45
