by J. A. Kerr
“Happy birthday, Max. This is your surprise, I hope you like it.”
Max smiled hesitantly before ripping the paper off, and then looked confused. “What is it?” He stared at the blank card in his hand and ran his fingers over the raised dots. Gabriella indicated he give it to the girl, who took it from him, swiping it through her computer.
“Welcome to The Braille Club and happy birthday.”
She handed both Max and Gabriella a key each before returning both their membership cards. Gabriella put hers safely in the locket that hung around her neck, while Max popped his into his jacket pocket. Leaving the reception, she slipped her arm through her husband’s, trembling as the lift doors reopened and they travelled down to Caligo.
Max stopped. “Mmmm, that smell.” He took a deep breath. “It’s the same one I’m wearing.”
It seemed to be everywhere and was both powerful and intoxicating. Gabriella led him to a small intimate restaurant where a maître d’ welcomed them. As Gabriella looked around, she realized there were many faces Max would recognize, and worried it would bother him. He normally preferred anonymity as a rule and shunned eating in popular pretentious places where people ate to be seen and photographed. As he turned towards her, she tried to remain calm, as she recognized her husband’s look of dismay.
“Give it a chance, please,” she whispered, squeezing his hand.
He gave Gabriella a tight smile, but gradually she saw him begin to relax and enjoy his birthday. Although the diner was full, their table was private, and she felt he was enjoying the intimacy of being with her in beautiful surroundings. Some two hours later he was a convert. The food had been superb, and Max was now pleasantly full and a little drunk. He got up from the table with genuine regret.
“Where to now?” He smiled.
Gabriella took a deep breath and reached for her husband’s hand. She led him towards a small lounge where a bottle of champagne awaited them, and they made themselves comfortable. They were again enveloped in the incredible scent as soon as they walked into the room; it seemed more intense than before. The chairs were large, plush, and relaxing, and she saw Max’s gaze sweep the room. Gabriella held her breath; again there were many faces she recognized. Max sat down and a waiter poured their champagne but no one approached them. She toasted his birthday and they soon forgot about the other people. Gabriella had booked Elysian for eleven o’clock; unlike the zones in Caligo, it started an hour earlier. She had struggled with the timings, wanting Max to be relaxed but also aware he was no night owl.
“This has been a wonderful birthday, Gabriella, what is this place?”
“It’s a private members club with a difference,” replied Gabriella. She had rehearsed this speech so many times but suddenly found her mouth go dry. “Max, I’m going to ask that you trust in me again,” said Gabriella, handing him the small printed card with the club rules.
Max turned his slightly dazed eyes towards his wife. Gabriella could tell he was fighting several emotions. She saw incredulity, distaste, and finally curiosity cross his face. She felt her eyes fill with tears as her hopes for the evening came crashing down. Max’s gaze left the card he was holding and stared directly into Gabriella’s eyes. “I’m in your hands,” he said, sighing.
“Thank you, Max,” she responded, both surprised and relieved by his change of heart.
Gabriella looked at her watch, shocked to see how quickly the night had gone, and again her stomach twisted in fear. This was such a risk; she could end her marriage through her actions, but she had to do something. The thought of spending the rest of her life in a sexless relationship was unthinkable, but a very real possibility. She gulped her champagne, feeling tense and anxious. The piano player started playing one of Max and hers favourite tunes, and it lifted her mood, so she started to hum along. When she gazed at Max, she saw with relief he was humming along too. Just as she was starting to relax she felt her key vibrate, and she almost dropped her champagne flute in panic.
“What is it?” said Max, leaning forward.
“It’s time,” said Gabriella, taking a deep breath. “I’ll show you where we’re going.”
They both stood, and Gabriella linked her arm through Max’s as they slipped out of the room. Walking towards an elevator, they stepped inside and she slid her card into the slot, letting the lift take them to the correct floor. Max was strangely quiet and tense as they stepped out. The same double doors and keypad greeted them. Gabriella had looked at her phone in the lift and memorized the number that she punched in with trembling fingers. The door clicked open, and she led Max along a passageway which led into a decagon shaped room and walked towards the door with a light above it. She clicked the key as it vibrated, the door popped open, and she walked into the booth with Max by her side.
The opaque glass was optional, offering them complete privacy if desired, and Gabriella was glad of it, although it still allowed glimpses of movement on either side. Others left the glass clear, preferring an audience. It made them feel at home; after all, it was what they knew.
Max was compliant as she removed his jacket and shirt and pulled the sensory top over his still trim torso. She hadn’t dared suggest the entire suit in case he refused point blank. He would lose some of the intense sensations of the chair and suit working together, but she knew she had been right, as tension seemed to emit from every pore in his body. This was not going as well as she had hoped.
“Max, this is a game, and the object is not to ring the bell.” Her voice was shaking. She held up the cuffs for Max to see and almost lost her nerve as she saw the disbelief and revulsion in his eyes.
“Please…” her voice faltered, but she pressed on. “Do not speak, Max. I’m going to put a blindfold on you now.”
She pulled it gently over Max’s head and heard him grunt as he plunged into darkness. Sweat was beading on her forehead as she found the music remote and pressed play. She had agonized over what music Max would like best and hoped she’d got it right. Moving quickly, she slipped The Lapel over his head and felt him flinch at her touch before laying The Belt across his lap. The heart-breaking sting of rejection threatened to engulf her. Steadying herself, she drew Max’s arms behind his back. They were stiff and unyielding as she clipped on the velvet cuffs. Lastly, she buckled him into the chair and lifted the control tablet. She pressed play on the audio system and tried to lose herself in the music as she pushed the button on both the chair and the vest. The haunting music of Clannad’s “Harry’s Game” flooded through the room as she started to speak.
“Max, imagine I am standing in front of you. You can see me, but you cannot touch me.” Well, that wouldn’t be a problem, she thought sadly. “I am reaching up, and my breath is hot in your face as I unzip my dress and let it fall to the floor. I step out of it, revealing a low balcony lace bra and knickers.”
Gabriella sighed; this song was so beautiful it always made her cry, and the tears ran freely down her face as she tilted her husband’s chair slowly backwards. She had no illusions of Max ringing the bells, but if he could even stand her touch…well, that would be progress. Her fingers reached for the controls to increase the intensity of The Lapel.
“I want to place my lips against your lips Max; to feel their softness. To trace my tongue around and around your mouth. I know your mouth, Max; I know it like no one else. It’s so nice; I’d almost forgotten how sweet it is.” Gabriella stood as close to Max as she dared and experienced a little thrill as he sighed. “I am standing over you, Max, my mouth just above yours. My fingertips are grazing along your mouth. Can you feel them against your skin as I move them around and around?”
She thought she could sense Max responding; or was he resisting? She gently increased the vibrations in the lapels and chair.
“My face is reaching down, and my lips touch yours and it’s electric. I’m kissing you, Max—my tongue is in your mouth, and it feels incredible. I am lost in this kiss, in its intensity, it is everything to me, and my body is s
tarting to tingle. You own my lips, and you own my body. You are in control, and I am gasping for breath, my body alight with desire. Desire for you, Max, and still you want more! I am slipping down the straps of my bra and unclipping it as I move closer to you.”
Gabriella pressed the button to activate the sensory top. Programmed on a quick oscillating cycle, her reward was a second gasp from Max. Hope surged through her; she desperately wanted to touch him but was frightened it would break the spell. She decided to talk him through it, she didn’t know if that would make a difference or not but it was worth a try. Leaning in close, she enjoyed the wonderful scent of Braille as she did so.
“Can you feel my breath on your neck, Max?”
Blowing along his neck, face, and lips, she was almost touching him. Feeling the heat of his body, the longing for him, for what they’d had, was almost unbearable. Any advance she had initiated had caused Max to freeze, the moment filled with pain and resentment, so now they didn’t even touch. Desperate to find a way back, she knew this was their last chance; make or break. She could see Max react, his lips slightly parted as she pressed the button of the belt, her last weapon. With a trembling fingertip, she grazed her husband’s top lip and felt him shudder but his arms remained stiff and still. Something in her let go as she slowly continued to move her fingertips around her husband’s lips. She increased the intensity on all the devices as her pulse quickened to match her husband’s. Max’s breathing was becoming ragged, and Gabriella couldn’t have been happier, changing the location of the pulse in the chair as Max groaned, his sensitized lips and body responding.
Gabriella continued, “Max, your lips are so soft and sensual. I’ve missed those lips, and I missed those lips kissing me, kissing my mouth, my neck, my body.” Her fingertips stopped and slipped into his mouth. “I’ve missed your tongue, Max…licking me, your mouth sucking me.”
She bent down, suddenly unable to stop herself; she kissed him. The feeling was fantastic as she felt him respond instantly. Their lips locked together for what seemed like an eternity, neither noticed the bells ringing nor the sensory equipment slowing. Gabriella ignored the vibrating key until reluctantly she pulled away from Max. She quickly set the chair upright before gently unbuckling the straps. The lights automatically dimmed.
“Max, I’m going to remove the blindfold. Please remain in the chair for a few minutes as your eyes adjust to the light.”
As she pulled the blindfold off she could feel the heat from his face, which was sweating. She unclipped the straps and lifted off The Lapel. She was standing behind Max and as yet he hadn’t spoken a word. The last thing was The Belt, and she moved around to face him. Max’s eyes were hooded.
“Gabriella,” his voice was hoarse and rasping.
He fingered the belt gingerly before handing it to her, his touch electric as their fingers brushed and their eyes locked.
She put it away and went back to where Max was still sitting, his head bowed. Her stomach was in knots, and she felt slightly dizzy. Why didn’t he say anything? She was sure he had experienced something, but the silence stretched out between them before he got shakily to his feet.
Chapter 33
THE BRAILLE CLUB
Braille Club, London, Present Day: Most Braille members choose the Braille locket as their preferred mode of concealment. Like the scent, a unisex design is supplied with their membership pack. These lockets, available in numerous designs to suit all tastes, are available to everyone. Members wear them like a designer label both inside and out of Harrison’s, snapping up expensive limited editions encrusted with crystals or pearls on their release date. It sparked a craze, women wearing several lockets at once on different chain lengths. Copies would soon spring up around London, making Harrison’s more desirable and sought after than ever…
Abbey
Abbey wrung her hands around and around as she stared at Steve lying motionless on the bed, surrounded by bleeping machinery, her emotions in turmoil as she fought to keep calm. Exhausted at having not slept in nearly twenty-four hours, she couldn’t bring herself to leave. Steve had undergone emergency surgery after a haemorrhage on the brain. Abbey stared wide-eyed with horror as Doctor Lewis explained why they would need to do more tests. Steve’s condition was very serious, but they were doing everything possible. He even went on to say it was because of his level of physical fitness that he was alive at all. Still unconscious, this would give his brain a chance to recover. Abbey nodded, but she couldn’t take in what he was saying. He gently asked her if she wanted to contact their families.
Oh my God, even the idea made Abbey recoil. She had hated Steve’s parents from the first time she met them, thinking them loud, money grabbing losers. They had gladly taken Steve’s offer of a life in Spain, complete with villa and a generous allowance, happy to spend their days boasting to their ex-pat cronies about their wonderful, talented son.
They hardly ever came home, but when they did, Liz constantly complained about the cold and Kenny about the exorbitant price of cigarettes. Abbey spent as little time as she could with them during their short stays. Steve always ended up paying for their hotel, although even he had stopped joining them for dinner, where they would both get drunk and end up causing a scene. Liz, of course, thought Steve was an angel, and Abbey couldn’t stand the way she fawned over him while Kenny stood outside most of the time, smoking. He cheerfully told her he was back up to forty a day now he lived in Spain. It was the ultimate smoker’s paradise.
She would have to call them; picturing Liz’s hysterical reaction made her want to be sick. Would she be crying for her son or crying about his future loss of income? Steve was an only child, Liz saying she couldn’t have any more and how she doted on her boy; Steve, however, said his gran was more of a mother to him than Liz. He had stayed with her a lot and had been heartbroken when she died, leaving Liz and Kenny no other choice but to care for Steve themselves. Football was the only thing that kept Steve going, he could have easily followed a path of drugs and alcohol. Most of his friends were doing it, but he wanted more. He’d wanted to make his gran proud, and he had.
Steve and Abbey had kept their wedding a secret, choosing to marry abroad with just two witnesses. Liz had been furious. Abbey knew she would have contacted the papers or Ello magazine, as she called it; she didn’t do discretion. Steve had agreed with Abbey, and their wedding had been magical. That seemed so long ago, and Abbey felt tears well up and spill over. She was a late baby for her parents. Her older brother Mark had made the Army his life. Abbey never understood the attraction, but Mark loved it. Her mum and dad were getting on now, both in their seventies. They were kind and quiet, and she protected them from the life she was involved in. It had crushed her when her dad had called, outraged at Steve’s behaviour, with her mum crying in the background. She thought she couldn’t get much lower. She had gone home into their arms and their unconditional love. Seeing her mum and dad so upset was terrible, and she vowed Steve would never hurt her or them again…but of course he had.
She told them the newspapers had sensationalized the story and she and Steve would work it out, but neither of them appeared convinced. She dithered now, loathe to upset her parents but needing their support and strength. Exhausted, she rested her head on the bed and closed her eyes. Starting awake disoriented some two hours later when a nurse came into the room, it took her several seconds to remember where she was before it hit her. It was like the affairs; she would wake in the morning without the knowledge until her memory came to life, and it was like an assault on her heart. The wounds that had healed overnight would be ripped open, with the media ever ready to rub the salt in. Abbey let out a huge sigh.
“You should go home and get some proper rest,” said the nurse.
Abbey looked up to see a girl about the same age as her with the kindest face Abbey had seen in a long time. Not fake sympathies like she was used to, but genuine concern.
“I can’t,” Abbey whispered.
The n
urse took Abbey’s hand. “I know he’s very sick, but he’s stable, and you must be exhausted.”
Abbey shook her head, not trusting herself to speak as tears filled her eyes.
“Let me get you a cup of tea and some toast, you’ll feel better after that,” the nurse said kindly.
Abbey gave her a weak but grateful smile. “Thank you; I know how busy you are—”
Claire interrupted her. “It’s my pleasure, you’re as white as a sheet; give me a couple of minutes.”
She carefully charted Steve’s vitals before smiling again at Abbey and leaving the room. True to her word, some ten minutes later Abbey couldn’t believe how good a cup of tea and toast could taste. Claire was right, she did feel better, and her mind was clearer too. Thoughts of Liz and Kenny made her want to scream, but she knew she had to call them. She realized she didn’t have their number; that she’d have to get it from Steve’s mobile, wherever that was.
Her brain was so tired. What had she done with his clothes? She looked in the drawer beside the bed, but it was empty. She checked the cupboard below and found Steve’s clothes. As she rummaged in his jacket, to her relief, she found his mobile. Shit, it was completely flat, and of course she didn’t have a charger with her. She picked up her bag and started searching for her mobile, coming across Lucy’s card and shuddering. Without any hesitation, she ripped it up and put it in the bin.
She felt such a fool, drunk and needy; Lucy had been there, when of course it should have been Steve. In fact, where had he been? Why had he been so late? Abbey felt the old suspicions surface with a vengeance and it took all her control to push them aside and deal with the matter at hand. She retrieved her phone and was dismayed to find it too was almost flat. With shaking fingers, she began to text her agent Olivia, the only other person she could really trust.
