by Jade White
Sunday, he hardly let Macy out of bed at all except to go to the shower and the bath. He brought their meals right to bed. Between eating and napping, all was sex—glorious, fantastic sex that Macy and Aaron both felt in the marrow of their bones. They lost count of the number of times he took her, all through Sunday and into the early hours of Monday morning.
When at last Monday morning came, the usual melancholy at the start of another work week was doubled for Macy, for it meant that Aaron, who had so gloriously worn little or nothing since late Friday night, would once again don one of his expensively tailored suits and cover up the body that she had enjoyed more than she had enjoyed anything else in longer than she cared to remember. It meant that he would have to seal away the dragon’s dragon between his thighs, which had shown her a pleasure beyond anything that she ever thought she would know. He was the handsomest creature she had ever seen fully dressed, but that paled in comparison with the naked Aaron, naked and erect and ready to plunder and thrill and delight her to the point of delirious bliss.
Macy had nothing to wear home Monday morning but the party dress and coat in which she had arrived Friday night. She could not remember the last time she had gone home in the morning dressed that way. Had it really been that long ago? What had she been doing with herself? What had she been making of her life? She had built a successful business that was getting attention and recognition in one of the richest and most competitive markets in the world. Occasionally, she had dated and gone to bed with an attractive man. There had been brief relationships. There had been pleasure and fun. She had made a great living and a life that she could enjoy when business permitted. But again, Macy had never had anything in her life like Aaron. Which was why their conversation of Saturday afternoon was now coming back to haunt her. She had made every bit of the point that she was the sophisticated New York City lady whose heart was not easily broken by a passing fling. But standing with Aaron now in his living room after breakfast, clad in that black dress that he had hiked up in the wine room to begin the rapture of their weekend, she felt every bit the fraud.
Aaron sensed the subtle melancholy about her. He had sensed it since right after their morning sex. He had done everything to lift her mood with shower sex before breakfast, but here it was again. She was not looking at him, and he enjoyed the look in her eyes when she looked at him. He wanted that look back. He gently put his arms around her face, holding her close. “Macy, is there something wrong?” Aaron asked. “Tell me.”
“Oh, Aaron,” she said. “It’s nothing. I’m just…looking to the week ahead.”
“Why? What’s going on this week?”
“I’m going into a busy time. Meetings with clients, meetings with copywriters, going over scripts. Casting sessions, looking at locations, booking directors, scheduling tapings…”
“That’s routine stuff,” he said knowingly. “That shouldn’t bother you. Tell me what it really is. I want to know.”
Macy looked up into his face. He had shaved now. He had not shaved all weekend. That face, so blindingly handsome, had kissed her and nuzzled her bosom and sucked her nipples and descended between her legs with a roughly sexy dusting of stubble all weekend. He was as sexy with his face smooth as he was unshaven. She almost couldn’t speak. All she could do was reach up and touch that face, as she wanted to touch the rest of him again.
“Oh, Aaron…” she simply repeated.
Something inside Aaron melted. He could feel it coming into his expression. Suddenly, it was hitting him that this would be a more difficult goodbye than he expected. How was it that after so many nights and weekends in bed with so many women, and so many goodbyes afterward, this of all partings felt so difficult? He answered her with a kiss. Just a kiss, into which so many feelings flowed. She put her arms around him and gave herself into this most bittersweet kiss she’d ever had.
At the end of it, he kept her close and said, “Damn, Macy. All I want to do right now is carry you over to the sofa and give you such a f..king, you’d feel it all week long.”
“I didn’t want to do the When Will We See Each Other talk, Aaron,” she said. “I wanted to live up to what I told you Saturday, that I’m okay with this being goodbye, and I’ll just take these three days and remember them and be glad we had them. That’s what I wanted. But Aaron…”
“I still want you too,” he finished for her. “Look, we both meant everything we said, right? When sex is as good as what we’ve been doing to each other for the last couple of days—and it has been incredible—you don’t just walk away not wanting more. When I say I want to go to bed with a woman and screw her again, you can believe I mean it. It’s going to happen. I’m going to be in you again. As soon as I can, as much as I can. I’m only sorry we can’t peel all these f…ing clothes off and I can’t get in you one more time right now. I want you, and I’m going to have you. Believe that, okay?”
Macy listened, and she believed. “Okay,” she said.
He kissed her one more time, a kiss that she could feel was meant to last until the next time, whenever that might be. It was only with the greatest reluctance that he parted the kiss and let her out of his arms.
“I’ll get your coat,” said Aaron.
He stepped out of the living room to the closet in the entrance hall, and Macy watched him go, winding back the hours and the days once again to that surprising but oh, so exciting first time in the wine room, and that moment when he took down his trousers and his briefs to show her what the birthday boy had to offer his favorite guest. And she still wanted it so much. She still wanted all of him—face, body, and dragon’s dragon—so very much. Macy let the roads of his promise of a moment ago echo in her mind. He would have her again, all right. And she would have him, no matter what.
_______________
Aaron was in his office and had just finished his coffee when the intercom from Debra’s desk sounded. He hit the button: “Yes, Debra?”
The receptionist’s voice came back: “Video call from Eamon Larch, Mr. Bedford.”
Aaron rolled his eyes at the name. He might have known he would be hearing from this man, now of all times. He thought they had concluded their business. He should have known better. “All right,” he replied to Debra, “I’ll take it.”
He logged onto his computer and called up his video conferencing app, and the face of the caller at once appeared. Eamon Larch, who ran a conglomerate of his own, was a man only a little older than Aaron and not quite as handsome. His hair was a little more salt-and-pepper, his face a little gaunter. His manner was something to which Aaron had always responded with a careful civility. Aaron expected he would be needing all the civility he could muster in the next few minutes.
"Good morning, Eamon," he said.
"Good morning, Aaron,” answered Larch. “And may I take this opportunity to extend good wishes, belatedly, for your birthday."
"Thank you. How can I help you today, Eamon?" As if I couldn’t guess, Aaron added in the privacy of his thoughts.
Larch began, "You know the reason for my call. I'm on my way to New York now. I'll be there by this afternoon. I'm anxious to get the relocation bid started, and I wanted to speak again about the matter we've discussed previously: the proposal that I had delivered to you."
"We went over that in depth, Eamon,” said Aaron. “And I gave you my answer. I didn't think there was anything left to discuss. As far as I know, everyone attending will be putting in their separate bids with the Dragon Watch. Separate. I haven't heard of any joint ventures."
Larch was as insistent as ever. "There's still time to reconsider the joint venture that I proposed. As the presentations haven't started, neither has the bidding. There's still time to come together on this. Our joint bid, your company and mine together, will be stronger. Success will be better assured if we work together. It could make all the difference in the world. It could make all the difference for the world."
Aaron answered firmly, "Eamon, a single venture—my own b
id—is the way I want to go. Everything will be simpler that way. This needs to be simple for the good of everyone."
"'The good of everyone' will not be served if both sides are not involved," Larch argued.
Aaron did his best to hide his frustration at this latest variation on a conversation he was tired of having. "We've talked about this plenty of times already, Eamon. What's good for us all is to keep our focus on what we know is true, what's been proven. The Vonsahlans left the Beacon here in accordance with their laws, which ours agreed to uphold. The power in the Beacon is for us to use only to help the Vonsahlans if and when they come back. Otherwise, it's to be kept hidden and held under guard. The bidding is to keep the responsibility for the Beacon between the Dragon Watch and one Nathairfear company with the resources to keep it completely safe. Having different companies involved at the same time will bring needless complications. As I said, this way is simpler."
Larch was unmoved. "'As you said...' You're an expert at saying exactly as much of what you mean as serves your own convenience. Your own qualification—'if and when they come back'—speaks volumes."
"I don't want this to get into the same conversation again, Eamon. We've been doing this for years. I know what you believe."
Larch pressed his argument. "It's not me alone, Aaron. They are coming back. They will return. We know this is true."
Aaron was unimpressed. "'We' know this... Some of us aren't so mystical about it."
Larch fixed him with a steely look through their respective computer screens. "You've never answered one question directly, Aaron. Do you accept the Prophecy of the Dragons Three? Do you accept the fact that the Vonsahlans will return one day, or don't you?"
Wearily, Aaron replied, "I accept that they can. I even accept that someday they probably will. But it's a big universe out there—an endless number of universes. The Vonsahlans are exploring more universes than we can guess. There's no way to know when they'll ever get back around to us. They left the Beacon to find their way back, but they didn't give our people permission to activate it—and use the power in it—whenever we like. If and when they come back, it's better for them to come back in their own time, not because we did something we were on our honor not to do. It'll be breaking our people's word to them. Is that what you want?"
"What I want,” answered Larch, not doing as well as Aaron at hiding his irritation, “is to see them return to a world that is safe and whole. The power of the Beacon can ensure that. They'll find that we've used it to protect and preserve the world against what the humans are doing to it, and themselves—which affects us. If the humans destroy everything, as you know they can, what will the Vonsahlans return to? What will they find when they come again? Will there even be any Nathairfear to greet them?"
Since Larch was laying his cards on the table now, Aaron saw no reason not to do likewise. "You accused me of talking around the issue, Eamon, but you're putting it plainly enough for me or anyone. I don't want a joint venture because I don't want to be entangled with any centuries-old prophecies, which is what your group has always done. I didn't want to be blunt, because then it'll get into accusations of disrespect for your beliefs, and I don't want to go there. But you're paranoid about the humans, and paranoia makes you grasp for power. You're doing exactly what they do. Think like a dragon, not a human. Let this happen the way it needs to happen."
Larch made a bitter look at him. "Is it better to be what you call paranoid—or be a fool? Or just as bad, to be naive? You know as well as I do what humans are capable of doing. That's why we kept ourselves a secret for so long. We've come out in the open, learned to live openly among them. But they haven't grown any wiser."
"Even if we did enter into a joint venture and your people had access to the Beacon,” Aaron pointed out, “you know what's required to activate the thing. You don't even have what you'd need to do it."
Larch replied, "That's all the more reason to be in control now rather than later. If we are in control now, everything will be in readiness when the prophecy is fulfilled. My associates are already searching for the ones who'll be needed someday. When we find them, everything must be in place."
Aaron scoffed, "You don't even know how long it'll take to find them, Eamon. I know you're doing all kinds of tests and searches, but this three-dragon prophecy of yours... Look at the humans. They've had all kinds of prophecies of their own about all kinds of things. You could practically set your clock by their predictions of the end of the world. Guess what? It never comes."
There was an edge in Larch’s voice now. Aaron could feel it right through the screen. Larch answered, "Their prophecies concern myths. The Vonsahlans are as real as you or me. They are coming back, and when they return, three properly trained minds must open the Beacon for them."
"We will have trained people to interact with the technology in the way they need to,” said Aaron. “The whole thing about them needing to have special gifts is just a myth that… some of us…” he was careful to keep that in general terms, “…have laid on top of the story. There's no need for this."
Larch was adamant. "The activators of the Beacon must be superior minds—minds of superior power."
Aaron was ready for that. "And it won't hurt if they're also three Nathairfear taught to believe the right things, believe in the superiority of our people just for being what we are..."
"...what the Vonsahlans created us to be!"
"They created us to help them and protect their technology—not lord it over the humans. When the Vonsahlans themselves were here, they didn't lord it over humans. Why should we be any different?"
"Because we are more than they are!"
Aaron made no attempt to hide his disdain for that thought. "Part of what we are is them. We're not ‘better.’ Just different. This is exactly why I've never wanted any kind of venture with you, including this one. This is why I left the orthodox Nathairfear church and never looked back. I don't believe in mixing religion with business—or anything else. Especially a religion about thinking you're better than others. Why don't you try joining forces with someone else, someone who’s still in the faith? Why waste your time with me? I have nothing to do with any of that anymore."
"I have always tried to encourage you to come back into the fold because I honor the relationship that our families still have. We are of the same scales, wings, and horns. Our families are both of the first breed. We’re both descended from the original weredragons of Kinross Green, directly, without crossing with humans. If I do join forces with someone else, it will be our combined strength against you. I'm giving you the chance to succeed, Aaron."
Aaron was ever wearier. Eamon’s talk of having descended from the original weredragons and his professions of faith in prophecies made at a time centuries past when it was easy to take travelers from other dimensions as gods, were as bad as the talk of humans at their worst. And just like the worst of humanity, Eamon was too blind to see his own dogmas, or see past them. With a calm resolve, he answered, "I think the Dragon Watch will be more impressed with a simple, streamlined plan than a plan with too many parties involved. I'll take my chances."
Larch said bitterly, "Then you'll stay a fool, and you'll stay naive. I began by wishing you well for your birthday. I look forward to your congratulating me on my victory in the bidding, Aaron."
With a sarcastic half-smile, Aaron said, "To paraphrase an old human saying, Eamon: Don't count your dragons before they hatch."
"As you like it,” said Larch. “I'll see you at the bidding."
"See you then, Eamon."
Aaron was never so relieved to sign out of a video chat as he was at that moment. He leaned back in his seat, shaking his head at the now-blank screen and the memory of who had just been on it. He would have to deal with Eamon Larch in person soon enough, and Aaron was thankful that they would both have plenty to keep them occupied over the next few days. His week was just beginning.
———————-
The da
ys that followed were, otherwise, mostly uneventful for both Macy and Aaron—at least not eventful in the way they both wanted most. Before leaving Aaron’s penthouse, they had swapped phone numbers and E-mail addresses, for want of other things they would like to swap. The week after Aaron’s party was almost as sexy as that weekend had been. While both immersed in business with little time to spare, they had made time to connect via phone and computer. It began with the texts. They sent messages back and forth about the things they had done, reliving the hours they had spent together, speaking only in general terms, no details, no specifics. They were both careful about that. Aaron wanted to send her more, and engage with her much more intimately, but there were issues of security and ethical conduct involved. So first, they texted, which led to phone calls and then to video chats. Macy enjoyed the video chats the best; she appreciated being able to see him, not just have him as words on a screen or a voice in her ear. It was during one of the video chats late in the week, as Macy sat on her bed with her MacBook on her lap, that they had a most intriguing conversation. It began when Aaron mentioned that he would not be able to see her for a while and would be out of touch for a while, because in the next week, he was due to leave town on business that he couldn’t discuss.
