“Did he marry you for your money?”
“No. He couldn’t handle that I was the breadwinner in the relationship. He was happy to spend it, but not happy with the sacrifice I needed to make in order to earn it.”
“Is that how you see yourself, the breadwinner?”
“Yes. I’ve always been driven to succeed in my career and I have. I’ve had to make difficult choices. Judging from the divorce, Jim didn’t appreciate that. He wanted the good, not the bad.” The burn of the brandy makes me wince as I swig back a larger gulp, tapping down hurt that still lingers. “What about you? Divorced?”
“No, I’ve not met the right woman.”
“It doesn’t appear that you meet many women here in Oxwich.”
“I choose to spend the majority of my time here, but I do travel to London regularly.”
“So you haven’t met the right woman in London then?”
“Not yet.” His greys hold amusement and a smile lifts the corner of his mouth. More slow sips signal the passing of time but I don’t feel pressed to fill the silence with words. For the first time today, my heart is lighter.
“I would like to spend the day with you. What are your plans for tomorrow? Have you got much to finish up?”
And there it is, the invitation that has me yo-yoing between yes and no. My heart is excited but my head is telling me to turn it down. My heart is winning.
“I have to meet the estate agent again first thing but then I’m free.” Hope ignites at the thought of spending the day with Aeron. I scold myself. My plan to leave on Saturday remains unchanged. Even if Aeron was in London regularly, a long distance relationship isn’t something I can do. I can already see myself relinquishing the focus I need to do my job and I can’t do that. I won’t do that. More time with him will further erode my determination to keep this week a light-hearted fling. It has to be that. Nothing more.
His hand strokes through my damp hair while he pins me with a gaze filled with lust and temptation. “Do you want to say no?” His challenge, delivered with a hint of humour, has me thankful I’m already sitting down.
“No.” I want him to put his brandy down, lean across the inches that divide us and kiss me. I want him to take me away from my rational thoughts. I want him to make me forget about why I came back to Oxwich. But he doesn’t.
“I’ll see you tomorrow.” He moves off the bed and I fight the urge to ask him to stay. “Come to the house when you’re finished with the estate agent.” He walks around to my side of the bed and bends to give me a chaste kiss. “You okay?”
The palm of his hand cushions my cheek as he looks for confirmation that I am all right. If I want to ask him to stay, now is my opportunity but the words refuse to pass my lips. He plants another kiss on the top of my head before moving to the door.
“Aeron?”
“Yes, baby?”
“Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome. I’ll see you tomorrow. No more brandy for you tonight.” He takes the bottle with him as he leaves.
Chapter Seven
I change after my brief meeting with the estate agent. Everything is in order to get the house on the market. I need to tackle the job I’ve been avoiding all week: clearing the house. I still have tomorrow. I head down to the reception and the girl behind the desk hands me a stack of papers.
“Good morning, Ms. Abbott. You’ve had several messages over the past day and each one has been marked urgent.”
“I’m sure they have. Thank you. I’ll pick them up later.” I hand them back and make my way to the beach and Aeron. Work can wait. Since my first stroll when I accepted that I didn’t have to do anything other than enjoy my time, I’ve revelled in the solitude the beach offers. The sun on my skin and the constant sound of the waves crashing, even the grit of the sand between my toes wraps around my senses like a healing balm. I’d never have this opportunity in the insane bustle of London with its constant barrage of noise and pollution.
The clear day causes the white house to shine brightly and it draws me in like a beacon. But now, more than the house, it’s the man that I long to see. He exerts more magnetism and captures more of my interest than the house has ever done. Lost in my thoughts, a wave catches me off guard and splashes up my legs, soaking my capri trousers. After the ice-cold shock to my system, I laugh out loud. The cathartic release shifts something inside me and I feel lighter. I skip along in the waves, unconcerned about getting wet from the sea, kicking my feet in the splash.
In the shifting sand of the bottom, I stumble further into the shallow surf. I’m up to my waist before I know it. I can’t make myself care. Once again, I’m that six year-old child that played in the surf with her mum and joy bubbles up into glorious laughter. I gaze up to the cliff and make out the windows of Aeron’s study. He’ll be watching for me. The thought alone has my body heating despite the cold water. I scan the beach and find it empty. My playful mood turns naughty.
Alone on the beach and armed with the knowledge that Aeron watches, I challenge myself. How brave can I be, teasing my voyeuristic lover? My first attempt at teasing Aeron worked to my advantage earlier in the week, and I find I want to please him. In stripping me of my clothes, Aeron peels off layers of reserve to find Tori, the sexual woman. I am no longer solely the financial director of Leigh and Taggart. I forget about that part of Tori when I’m with Aeron. There is no room to feel anything but raw passion. I never anticipated how fulfilled those emotions could make me. I want more.
I wade out further through the surf, dip to my shoulders and jump back up with a gasp. The cold water bites. My nipples pebble through my blouse. I run my hand up my stomach to my breast and circle the palm over my erect nipple and moan at the resulting sensation. I stare at the window where I know he watches. “I wish this was your hand, Aeron.”
My cold fingers fumble with the wet buttons and push them through the tiny holes to reveal my black lace bra. The material of my blouse separates and clings to the sides of my body. Aeron has a clear view of my skin. I freely caress my breasts, squeezing and pressing them together before pushing the lace cups of my bra down. Fully displayed for him, I tweak and pull my nipples. Lust and desire block out the cold and I focus on the thought of how my actions must inflame him. My head falls back, my loose hair lapping around my back in the waves. The fantasy of Aeron joining me in the sea plays out behind my eyes as I continue my own stimulation until I want to push my fingers into my needy pussy.
I’m caught off-guard by a large breaking wave. My fantasy vanishes and I’m back in the sea on display for any casual observer. I look around and exhale in relief. I’m still alone. Pulling the sides of my top together, I stride out of the sea, eager to reach the safety of Aeron.
* * *
Aeron
“Fuck,” I groan as I watch Tori splash out of the sea. I watched her play and frolic in the surf and couldn’t help feeling delight at her enjoyment. She knew I watched. She gauged her actions to deliberately provoke. My heart pounds in my chest. My dick was stiff the second I saw her nipples harden. She played to all of my desires, confident enough to do it out in the open. I wish this was your hand, Aeron. My balls ache at the thought of her hot, wet body under mine as I give her the release she clearly wants.
This woman is different from anyone I’ve met before. She accepts and submits to my sexual proclivity. She plays to my voyeurism. Gorgeous, without flaunting herself and not in awe of my wealth, she seems perfect, except for her fierce control over her own feelings and reluctance to see how good we are together. Living on the other side of the country is a bigger issue. She’s made it clear... London is her home. And Oxwich is mine. I hate the city. I resent the time that I must spend in London. Visiting the club is the sole benefit of London for me.
“Aeron?” her soft voice drifts up the stairs and I know she’ll come looking for me. With my eyes on the door, I watch as she peeks around the corner, timid in her approach. Seeing me, she creeps in on bare feet. Her wet c
lothes are a second skin silhouetting her curves and I force myself to remain still. I want her to come to me. We lock eyes. The connection is electric. My cock throbs with the need to sink into her tight pussy. I try and tame the voracious look I’m giving her. I want to fucking eat her up. I beckon with my forefinger, and finally, she moves to within striking distance.
“You seem a little... wet.” She blushes at my innuendo. I want all of her skin flush with desire at my hand. “Take off those wet trousers.” She obliges, peeling them down her slender legs. Pushing and pulling, she finally frees her feet and I waste no more time before I spin her behind me and push her up against the window overlooking the beach.
“Spread your legs ... wider... and brace your arms on the glass. Do you want to say no?” I bite her earlobe as I press her body between me and the window. Her breath catches. A sense of triumph fills me. She wants this as much as I do.
“No. Don’t stop.”
I kiss her neck, and the pulse of her vein throbs against my lips. I feel each beat in my cock. I pull her back into my body. My hand snakes around and slides underneath the lace of her knickers. Hot, slippery juice envelopes my fingers.
“This is what you wanted, isn’t it, baby? To put your finger inside your wet little pussy, out there in the sea while I watched?” My cock strains against my jeans at her moan. She rests her head back on my shoulder and closes her eyes. “No, no, baby. I want you to watch. Lift your head and look out. I’m going to sink my dick into your hot pussy and fuck you in front of anyone who wants to watch.” Her pussy tightens around my finger. Her body wants this as much as mine. There’s no gentle or slow. I want her. I tear the lace from her skin with my finger still inside and move to free my cock. Her rapid pants cloud the glass on her every exhale. I can feel the slight tremble of her body under my fingers as I caress her thigh with my free hand.
“Do you want to say no?” I draw the head of my cock through her swollen lower lips as I wait for her final submission.
“God, no. Please, Aeron. Please. Fuck me.”
I withdraw my finger and pull the condom from my jeans. After the longest twenty seconds of my life, I hilt my cock with one thrust. She arches and presses against the glass and I need a moment to adjust to her slick heat. Her throaty moan echoes in my ears as her internal contractions milk my cock. My balls contract, the rush of orgasm climbing my spine. I grasp her and tilt her forward. My thrusts lift her to her toes, my rhythm urgent and desperate. I drive toward the release we both crave. Tori props her arms on the window and slams her bottom back.
“More, baby? Harder?”
“Yes, yes... Aeron, I’m so close.”
“Fuck!” I grab her hips and abandon control. I smash into her over and over. She tightens around me. Her pussy starts to spasm as she comes undone. I watch her and the view beyond through lust-glazed eyes. Clenching my jaw, I fight my own release. Her pleas and whimpers fill my ears and my heart as her muscles relax under my hand. I slide my hand down to touch her clit. My finger slides through her soaked lips and at my touch, her pussy flutters again. Growling, I finally let my orgasm take me.
* * *
Tori
My arms quiver from the strain of holding myself against the window. My wet blouse, still clinging to me, cools my body. I still don’t want to move. Aeron’s head rests on mine and the steady pull of his breath is my comfort and satisfaction. I’m learning not to second guess Aeron’s reaction or mood when it comes to sex. He’s a force all of his own and I’m exceedingly happy to be on the receiving end. God, this man! A shiver runs through me. As hot as Aeron is, I need to get out of my wet clothes.
“Aeron, can I move now?” I turn, trying to find his eyes.
“You’re cold, baby. Come on, let’s get you warmed up.” He gently pulls out of me and gives me some space to move. I look around and take in the scene that I starred in. With each meeting, our connection grows stronger. I’ve explored a side to myself I wasn’t aware of in order to please Aeron and found something that lights up my world. I’ve tried for so long to protect myself against emotion, against my unsupportive husband and the fallout from a demanding job. Aeron shreds all of my layers. Effortlessly cutting down to the core of me. A hazy, unformed vision crosses my mind of what a relationship with Aeron could be. Both of us work in London. We each have successful careers and we explore the connection we’ve developed without the time limit. I covet this vision, but I’m afraid. I feel different here in Oxwich. The woman I am with Aeron is unrecognisable from the woman I am in London. She won’t survive. I can’t take the risk of being hurt again, not like I was before. One week of fantasy. That’s all this can be. My mind squashes the vision back down before it materialises fully. Without a word, he strips his clothes and leans into the impressive sized shower. Warm rain floods the enclosure, filling it with steam. Aeron turns to me and divests me of my blouse and bra. He pulls me into the shower with him and the heat instantly warms my cold skin.
“Ahh,” I sigh. It’s pure bliss.
Aeron soaps and washes the salt from my hair and skin before rinsing himself. I watch the suds follow the contours of his broad chest and honed abs. He’s watched me. Now it is my turn.
He catches me staring and we both smile. He pulls me into him and we stand letting the shower pour over us. I’ve been given a personal tour through the dictionary of emotions today. Joy, happiness, desire, lust, excitement, nerves, passion, relief. But something wells up inside of me as Aeron’s arms encircle me. Content isn’t adequate. This feeling is gathering pace and size. It’s more intense and I’m frightened that if I let it, I’ll drown in its depths.
* * *
I’m swaddled in Aeron’s bathrobe, relaxing on one of his loungers. The sun is shining into the outside courtyard but the rays are weak and I need the robe to keep me snug.
“Tea.” Aeron brings a tray with cups and saucers out into the courtyard. He pours and joins me on a lounger, stretching out next to me.
“Don’t you have computing to do?”
“Yes”
“I don’t mind if you have to get back to work. I understand work pressure. I’m happy here.”
“I want to spend time with you today. You weren’t complaining an hour ago.” He cocks his eyebrow at me, stifling my protest.
The woman inside of me absorbs each word. He wants more than a week-long fling with me. It’s getting harder to shut myself off from the emotions. The possibility this could lead somewhere is temptation personified. But how can I trust it? I couldn’t trust my husband to understand me. How can I trust an almost stranger? I am in turmoil. Never have I doubted myself or felt as open and vulnerable as I do at this moment. My newly found emotions leave me feeling defenceless. It’s unlike me to question my judgment. I never question my ability. Yet as I sit here under Aeron’s ever-present eye, I question all manner of things. Why am I so driven at work? Why do I distance myself from home? Why do I see what I’m doing with Aeron as merely a fling of a week’s duration?
Tomorrow, I must tackle packing up the house, the job I’ve put off. Perhaps a day on my own will allow me to get a handle on everything that I’m feeling.
“I’ll make a start on lunch soon. Do you fancy anything in particular?” Aeron breaks my introspection.
“No, thank you. Whatever you are having.”
“What about dinner? Any requests?”
“Dinner as well? I can’t stay here all day.”
“Why not?”
“I have to check a few things for tomorrow and I’m sure you have work to do.” It’s another feeble excuse and I feel a prize bitch for brushing him off. How can I spend more time with Aeron without more emotions getting involved? More of me being exposed?
“Okay then. How about I join you for dinner at The Apartments tomorrow night?”
Our last night together. Tears prick my eyes as I think about never seeing him again and I regret being so hasty with our remaining time. I’ve never felt so confused. Nothing has ever come
close to pulling my attention away from my job. What am I supposed to do? Perhaps if I go for a walk on the beach I can clear my head. “That would be lovely. And perhaps, if I popped back for a change of clothes and gave you some time, we could postpone lunch to dinner?”
Today has been wonderful. Although what I’m feeling is terrifying, I don’t want to stop spending time with Aeron. It’s a double edge sword- one I know will split me in two.
“Very well. Are you going to walk back in my robe?”
“If you don’t mind.” I laugh as I realise how obvious it would be walking back in a bathrobe but I just don’t care.
Chapter Eight
Friday has arrived far too quickly and I’ve left this to the last minute. Everything else that I needed to tie up has been done. I was here to empty the house and agree what would be left to the charity and what I would take. I rifled my way through what I could. A few pieces of jewellery, all the photos and a few other items of sentimental value are in my save pile.
By lunchtime, I’ve finished in the house and have the attic and garden shed left. Starting outdoors, I find the key hanging on the back door to the shed. The smell of varnish and paint is still as strong now as when I was a girl. Dad’s old tools are hanging on one side. A small box of toys is stacked in the corner. I pick out the bucket and spade that we used to shape our speedboat at the beach and can’t hold back the tears. She kept them all this time. The plastic is weathered and dirty but it seems to hold the key to a well of feelings that I’ve buried since leaving home. Leaving the rest, I take my bucket and spade back into the house.
Last night Aeron offered to help me with this and I refused. I have a damn good reason for keeping him at arm’s length. He’s seen me crying my heart out. Even Jim didn’t get to see my vulnerable side often. Tomorrow I am heading back to London, closing this part of my life. But the feeling that I’m not finished here is playing havoc with my mind. All the emotions that Aeron has brought to the surface are stronger now. He’s brought me to life. I was a woman who entirely focused on work, and now... Aeron has shown me how to feel again. Passion, joy, love. I haven’t felt those in years. Tonight is our final night together. My memories of this week are happy, not sad, light and love and the ability to let go and enjoy my feelings. To trust in what I feel. He isn’t the source of my pain. I’ve pushed everyone aside in order to climb to the top and now I’m there, and it has not brought happiness. I have no one to share my money or success with. I’ve sought closure this week to say goodbye to my mum. Maybe that wasn’t all I was supposed to find.
Undertow: A compilation of short beach stories Page 13
