Dead Men (Marie and Lotte Book 1)
Page 15
Each village also has a common citizen’s house, where the residents can gather regularly and play Balinese music. I love so many things about Bali, but the music sounds like a horde of blind bats flying into metal plates. It is simply a cacophony to me and I wonder how the Balinese can enjoy such a seemingly tuneless assortment of sounds. Although I’m sure the Balinese take delight in their music and may, of course, wonder how I can enjoy the things that I do.
From time to time Lars checked his phone, hoping for a signal. I knew Lotte was all he had in his life and it was grandstanding on his part that there he was so worried about receiving calls. He starred in his own plays, and he thirsted for an audience. Lotte was divided. On the one hand, she was sensitive to his needs and produced small compassionate sounds and words that would indicate that she understood his frustration, and recognize his need to feel important. But truth to tell, she looked as if she wanted to indulge in the enjoyment of all the strange and wonderful sights before us.
Her eyes twinkled and I imagined she wanted to point at everything and shout, “Look at that,” as though she were a small child unaware that the adults around her had already experienced the world and their excitement would only be feigned. But just as Lotte pretended to commiserate with Lars frustration, I, too, pretended to understand Lotte’s wonder.
We drove into the area around Sanur. The area was almost completely wrecked by tourism now, but I had chosen it for two reasons. There was a very good Danish diving school where I planned to have our first diving lessons coupled with a fantastic beach. We could relax for a few days and get used to the heat and the pulse of the atmosphere.
The small but exclusive hotel was right on the beach and I had rented two suites overlooking the sea where we could watch the sunrise over the shore. They were not adjacent but close since I still desired my privacy. I had already contacted my usual gigolo and looked forward to my body receiving his ministrations.
“Is this really where we’re staying, Marie?”
Lotte almost had tears in her eyes when she saw that she could see the sea while lying in bed. On the beach between the hotel and the sea, there was a wooden pagoda, known as Bale Bengong, with simple white and airy curtains on the sides. One could shut the world out, in whole or in part, and let the breeze flow through the sheer curtains. Inside was a mattress and bedding and you could stay there at night as well as rest during the day.
“Oh I love it! Are we allowed to sleep there?” She looked at me with the most pleading expression in her eyes, as if it were the most important thing she had ever wanted.
“You can easily sleep there and since there is a guard who keeps an eye on things all night you can sleep soundly. During the day there are staff who will check in with you regularly to make sure you have anything you need - food, something to drink, suntan lotion. They take good care of their guests in Bali; here we are guests, not just tourists.”
Lotte was enthusiastic to Lars saltiness. He had been humming brightly but he stopped abruptly.
“I’m not going to sleep on the beach. There’s noise, mosquitos, other bugs. You’re alone if you plan on sleeping there.”
He clearly wanted to dissuade her from entertaining the thought of sleeping outdoors, but Lotte was in love with the idea and unwilling to give it up. Had Bali given her courage or was it because she was with me? I couldn’t be sure, but either way I was encouraged to see her sticking to what she wanted.
“That’s fine. I can sleep on the beach alone if it makes you uncomfortable.”
24
I’d spent a quiet afternoon dozing in my room and then, as agreed, went to meet Lotte and Lars in the indoor restaurant at six thirty. By seven they hadn’t shown up yet so I imagined that they had fallen asleep from the jet lag or were having sex. I waited another thirty minutes and then decided to go and check on Lotte.
I knocked on the door, and it took an eternity before it was opened. Eventually Lars stood there with an angry expression, his body language clearly indicating that I was not welcome, that life had not treated him as he deserved, and that women were a nuisance. I could hear some faint sobs behind him and then Lotte came to the door with sunglasses on.
Lars started to explain though I immediately knew what was happening. I could smell the predator seething from him when he opened the door. It was a very familiar situation.
“We had an argument. We’re going to stay here and fix it. We’ll get room service a little later. You can just go ahead and eat alone.”
Lotte lowered her head and said sorry and then turned as she began to sob again. Lars was just about to close the door, but I was quick and twisted my way past him. He was too slow and I was out of his grasp in a flash. The door slammed shut as he tried grabbing me and shoving me outside the room. For a second he looked like a clown trying to tie his body into a balloon animal. I went to Lotte and grabbed the sunglasses off her face. Their absence revealed a swollen and bruised eye, but she quickly grabbed them back and put them on again.
“Are you crazy? Only a sick shit would use violence against a woman!”
I looked him straight in the eye and he glared back at me. The air was thick with tension. I left Lotte’s side, and she fell on the bed where she hid her face in her hands and wept. I was over by Lars in a second, put my mouth up to his ear and whispered:
“What kind of so-called man are you that you can violate such a weak woman? Why her? Why not pick a fight with someone who can defend themselves? Afraid of meeting your equal are you? You pathetic asshole!”
Lars’ expression changed to amazement and confusion. I could see in his eyes that he could not believe what he had just heard. He let it soak in, while he tried to decide whether he should reply or remain silent. Lotte was oblivious of our exchange and her sobs quieted to nothing as the suite went quiet and became a lifeless cubicle in the warm Balinese night. Then I could see that Lars was still struggling to believe what I’d said to him, what was not surprising for a man like him. He was about to say something when I interrupted.
“Lotte, go and wash up and get ready for dinner. I’m hungry. Lars and I will wait for you outside. Take whatever the time you need.”
I said this without taking my eyes off Lars. I wanted him to feel my strength, to focus his attention on me, and lose interest in Lotte. The hope was that he would leave her alone until we went to Menjangan to dive. Maybe I had to change the schedule so we’d got a little earlier than planned, but right now I just had to make sure I had control of another predator.
When I saw that Lotte was following my instructions, I went to the door, opened it and went out; Lars followed me with an annoying happy humming, and closed the door behind him. There was a terrace bathed in light and just beyond that was a garden with a large wooden sculpture of Saraswati, the goddess of writers and poets. The garden was dark since the sun goes down early in Bali.
I walked into the darkness and reached into my pocket for the sheathed lancet I always carried with me; I was ready. I approached the statue but had not gone far when Lars put a firm grip on my arm. Instead of grasping his arm and flipping him to the ground, I allowed him to spin me towards him. I stared at him in the half-light of the garden’s lamps and studied his unattractive features. He had awoken the hunter’s call in my blood. He was now my prey, and as such he was destined to die.
I could have killed him right there to punish him for abusing my friend. I took a deep breath and as I opened my mouth he leaned in, quickly put his lips to mine and jammed his tongue in between. I was forced backwards into the statue and the pressure pushed the air out of my lungs and was released in a small gasp. Lars took it as an expression of desire and permission, and he kissed me as though he would swallow me whole. One hand was on my chest, and he fumbled like an insecure idiot, totally lacking any understanding of what it took to beguile a female.
I grunted with discomfort and tried to push him away; it c
aused him to lose composure completely. My bag fell to the ground as he rapidly stuck his hand up under my silk dress and discovered that I did not have any panties on; I do so rarely in Bali since it’s so hot. He moaned and I could feel his stiff knees soften for a moment, while something else as hard as stone was pressed against me. Lars’ touch aroused no desire in me. I was a valuable piece of meat being devoured by a glutton with both of his greasy hands; a glutton who had no respect for the quality of the meat.
I fantasized about sticking a knife in his neck, just below the edge of his skull, and watching the look of horror flood his face before he fell to his knees. He would try to speak, and plead but would be unable to because of the blade that pierced his neck. One can either stab upwards and into the brain, so that the person will die immediately; or you can stick the knife down through the neck so the person slowly bleeds out and there is nothing that can prevent the inevitable death.
The head of the knife would stick out next to his Adam’s apple and I would kneel down beside him. With exquisite kindness I would lick up some of the hot blood that ran down from the exit wound. I would kiss him lightly and then stick my tongue into his mouth to share the taste of him, and he would grab me with panic and fight for his life. I would feel his body tremble in agony and I would feel the intense, strong and beautiful mechanisms in him trying to in vain to fight for his breath and remain in this world.
While I let my fingers caress his lips and his mouth opened in easy arousal, I unsheathed the lancet with my other hand pricked my flesh. I stuck my bloody finger into his mouth and sighed in a way that suggested I was being turned on. Perhaps he noticed there was blood on my finger, but maybe he was too excited. He certainly didn’t seem to detect it, but I was happy. Now he was mine.
He wanted more, and began to fumble at his pants but I pushed him back and took his hands in mine.
“We can’t. It would be too obvious. Lotte is my friend, and I care about her. But I have a plan. Just follow my lead, and everything will work out perfectly. I will make sure that Lotte gets her own room so you do not have to sleep with her and look at her. When we get home, we can meet each other, and let it happen.”
“You can come to me at night. She will not find out.”
“Yes, she will. Lotte is sensitive and will feel that something is going on between us. Believe me!”
“I don’t care. I just want to fuck you right here and now. Who cares what Lotte knows. Let her see that we belong together, so she leaves us in peace!”
“Don’t force me to choose between you and her so soon. You and I do not know each other well enough that you can be sure to walk away with the victory. You will have to wait!”
He sighed. He knew I was not lying.
“It will be a long week.” Lars said, sounding like a sulky boy who had been denied his share of the goodies.
“No, we’ll shorten it. I’ll make up a story about urgent work so we can go home. But I want to go diving in Menjangan with you two first. It is important for me to share that experience with Lotte. So you have to control yourself!”
I did not think Lars was a man who usually followed the orders of others, but I don’t think he realized I was the stronger predator. His untamed aggression had maneuvered him into a subservient relationship with me.
After dinner and getting Lotte moved I had to deal with Lars’ hard core attempts to persuade me to let him come to me at night. Eventually, I went exhausted to my room. It had been a long journey, almost twenty hours including fifteen on the plane. I was so tired and was just ready to go to sleep when there was a discreet knock on the door. I eased it open a little and then stood back to let the person enter - my favorite gigolo.
He seemed to flow into the room, eyes fastened to the floor. He knelt down in front of me, softly put his hands together and greeted me.
“My queen.”
“Shower.” I said. There was no need to instruct him beyond that.
I was nearly too tired for this, but to be in the care of someone who voiced no opinions on my business matters and only addressed relaxing me was exactly what I needed right then.
I went into the bathroom and stood there while he slowly undressed me with a touch as gentle as butterfly wings. He gave small appreciative and loving sounds while he occasionally kissed my skin. He was the only man in the world who made me feel beautiful, who had seen my beauty seriously, who knew who I was and who appreciated me and my body exactly as it was.
He led me into the shower, turned on the water, made sure that it had a comfortable temperature, and began to wash me, gently and slowly. It almost felt as though his hands and my skin were melted together.
“My beautiful queen.”
He said it slowly, again and again, with great love and affection in his voice. I felt any residual turmoil and struggle leave my body and drip onto the marble floor along with the soap when he touched me, and gently stroked his hands and lips over my skin.
He washed my breasts and touched my nipples so slowly and easily that they were instantly erect. Then he kissed them with lips so soft that electrical currents vibrated through my body.
With eyes closed I felt his touch. There was a thought that popped into my head which I found disturbing. An image burned into my brain - Philippe. I was annoyed. What was he doing in my head now? There was a softness in me that almost hurt at the thought of his face; the impish smile and the brown, laughing eyes. It was as if he had something I yearned for, something masculine to my feminine. Something that aroused a gentleness in me, which I kept tucked away so that the side of me that needed it could exercise justice. That part of me, the one the dealt out justice in a world that only seemed to protect monsters, was so large that there was no room or welcome for other emotions. But I wanted it and I imagined that it was Philippe who touched me and not the small Balinese gigolo. A little voice in my head insisted that Philippe and all he represented should be explored … and soon.
I took a deep breath and tried to focus my attentions on my sweet Balinese’s caress. He washed my thighs and approached my flower, touched it slowly and withdrew, another small touch, and ran his fingers along my crack which sent trembling shakes up through my body.
After having washed me all over, he toweled me dry and led me to the bed where he gave me a light massage with frangipani-scented oil. Again he aroused, embraced and caressed me until I could not hold myself back anymore. I pulled him to me and he moved his cock back and forth on the edge of my opening, until the world vanished. I whispered his name and heard him answer in the distance Yes, my queen, while he kissed and embraced me like the precious creature I am.
Afterwards, while I was finally getting ready for sleep there was another light knock on the door. My body flooded with a light dose of adrenaline, instantly on alert. I knew that if it was Lars we would never make it to the diving session. I sent the gigolo out of the glass door facing the beach and put on a silk wrap before I went to the main entrance to my room.
“Who is it?”
“It’s me.”
Lotte’s voice sounded very small and apologetic. I opened the door and there she stood, looking so sad and scared.
“I can’t sleep. I’m so afraid he’ll kill me. Can you help me?”
She began to cry, and I took her arm and pulled her to me. She was too upset to notice the disheveled state of my bed. I sat her down on the edge and waited, but she was unable to look me in the eye.
“You were right,” she sniveled. “I can see it now. He’s just like Verner.” So she let herself fall onto the bed and began to cry. “I’ve always fallen for the wrong kind of guy! I just can’t figure it out. I just don’t understand it. I am completely stupid!”
She sobbed into her hands and I recognized the situation from books and movies. The body language, the tears, the words; it was same and it expressed a feeling of being totally useless and helpless.
25
Lotte awoke as she felt someone gently touch her arm. She opened her eyes and looked straight into Marie’s. They held a worried expression as she handed her a glass of water; Lotte thanked her and gulped it in thirsty, greedy gulps.
“How are you?” Marie asked.
Lotte was depressed. She had been so sure that Lars would be in a better mood when he got away from it all. But instead, she and Lars behaved like idiots and destroyed the beautiful gift Marie had given them. She was also ashamed that Marie had seen her with a black eye and seen how she allowed Lars to mishandle her. But mostly she was confused and scared. She had no clue about how she should handle a situation like this; and she was afraid of what Lars would do. As usual, Marie guessed her thoughts.
“It’ll be a while before he bothers us. I snuck a sleeping pill in his dessert while he was on the toilet.”
Lotte was speechless for a moment. “Oh you didn’t?”
“Yes. I don’t want him to bother us. We need to talk now.”
“What do we need to talk about?” Lotte sat up in bed while Marie picked up the phone, pressed a number and spoke in a foreign language.