Story of Us trilogy 01: TouchStone for Play (34 page)

“Oh Ayden, you didn’t have to buy me this,”
I gush. “It’s beautiful.”

I reach up to him and caress his face with
my hand, he leans into it and a warm glow finds its way to my heart, radiates
out and envelopes him like a cloak. “Will you put it on for me?” He fastens it
around my wrist and I hold it up to the light and shake my hand. “I’ll treasure
it.”

He moves towards the single chairs and
strokes my hair on the way. “I have to check a couple of things, can you amuse
yourself for a while.”

“Of course. I’ve got my kindle.” I reach
into my bag and lift it out.

“You can put music on if you want,
something off our iPods.” He winks, knowing we have exactly the same music
stored on them.

“I’ll see what I can find.” I run through
my albums and put Colbie Collait on shuffle. I make a conscious decision to
make myself useful and venture over to the galley area. There’s a coffee
percolator and a stocked fridge. Surely the pilot and co-pilot would appreciate
a coffee and a snack? I knock on the cockpit door and pop my head inside.

My God, it’s like mission control in here:
nobs, dials, levers, button and, best of all, clear blue sky. They’re surprised
to see me. It would appear neither Ayden, or any of his passengers have ever
ventured into their private space.

“I’m making coffee, can I get you
anything?” They look at each other with puzzled expressions.

The pilot speaks for them both. “That
would be very nice Miss Parker. Thank you. No sugars please.”

“Yes captain.” I smile, glad to be of
service.

The coffee is brewing nicely, giving me
time to organise some biscuits. I glance over to Ayden; he’s out of his seat
and pacing. I can’t quite catch what he’s saying but the volume and the
inflections tell me he’s not offering words of praise. I decide against asking
and prepare his coffee just the way he likes it: strong and black. I pour the
steaming brew into two more cups, and deliver it to our deserving pilots.

“Thank you Miss Parker. You might want to
buckle up, we’re going to try and fly above it, but it’s likely we’ll run into
some turbulence.”

“Ok. I’ll let Mr. Stone know.” I force a
grateful smile.

The door clicks shut behind me and I rest
my back against it. I may need to throw back another travel sickness tablet. I
take one look at Ayden and I’m disinclined to break the news, he’s so
preoccupied with something. So much so his hand is resting on his neck for far
too long. I want to help but I’m afraid to intervene. I’ll wait. If he needs my
help, he’ll ask for it.

I place down his coffee cup but he doesn’t
notice. This trip is turning out to be a real eye-opener. I’m being given an
insight into his working practice and, seeing him in action reminds me there’s
more than meets the eye when it comes to this wonderful man. I think I’ve been
blinded by physical perfection: the come-to-bed eyes, coming to get you smile
and what he can do with those hands …  Maybe this is a voyage of discovery
after all?

I listen to him putting the world to
rights, he’s authoritative and in total command. I can’t take my eyes off him.
He throws his phone down onto the chair and picks up the coffee cup, still deep
in thought. I’ve become invisible, I’m not even acknowledged as the waitress.

“Did you make this?” I believe he is
addressing me.

“Yes, there’s more if you want another cup
but be quick because the Captain says we’re about to fly into some turbulence.”
I smile and return to my edition of
Gabriel’s Inferno
, things are
hotting up …

“Did he tell you that?”

I nod.

“When?”

“When I took in their coffee and you were
on the phone.”

“You served them coffee?” He’s astonished
and shaking his head in disbelief.

“Yes, so drink yours and buckle up.” To
stress the point I click my own into place, watching him seat himself opposite
me. “Have you sorted out your problem?”

He turns his head clockwise in a wide
circle in an attempt to ease the tension settling in his neck. “More or less.
But it’s nothing for you to worry about.”

I take that as a thanks but no thanks to
any offer of help. “Great. I’m sure you have everything under control.”

Before I can continue, the sudden loss of
altitude hits my stomach and every rational thought evaporates. The engines
struggle to maintain altitude and the clear air turbulence has us bobbing and
swaying like we’re on an out of control rollercoaster: it’s terrifying.

I scream, “Shit!”

When I look at Ayden, he isn’t exactly
scared but he isn’t smiling either. He’s a seasoned flyer and has experienced
this before, but
not
with me.

“Is this normal?” I ask, holding onto the
arms of my chair with knuckles the colour of melted snow.

“We’re ok Beth. It’ll take a minute or two
but we’ll get through it. This is one of the safest aircrafts there is.”

He holds out his hand to me but I can’t
release my grip on the chair. “Maybe I should have mentioned it before, but
it’s not just the take-offs and landings I hate. I’m not too fond of the middle
bit either, especially when it’s like this.”

I feel the colour draining from my face.
With every abnormal fall I scream.

“Look at me Beth.”

I lift my eyes from the floor.

“Just look at me and tell me about Rome.
What are we going to do when we get there? I know you must have something
planned.”

Nice distraction Ayden…

“I’ve found us a little ...  Ah!  ...
restaurant that has great ... Ah! ... reviews ... it’s in the centre so we can
stroll ...  Ah!” I give up trying to speak. I can’t think straight. I’m dizzy.
I’m going to be sick.

“Beth!  Beth!”

I hear him calling my name but I feel too
out of it to answer. His expression turns suddenly very solemn. In a flash he’s
out of his seat, cursing, swaying, struggling to keep his balance. He’s
unbuckling my seatbelt. What is he doing? He’s lifting, carrying me to the rear
of the plane.

We land heavily on the couch and he wedges
his feet against the opposite seat and holds me on his lap, rocking me like an
injured child. I close my eyes, wrap my arms around his neck and whimper. His
reassuring words and soft kisses make the ordeal bearable and, for the first
time in the longest 30 minutes in my life, I feel safe.

The plane levels out, I release my grip
and frame his face with my sweating palms; it’s warm to the touch, an angelic
visage. I find his mouth with mine and deliver a grateful kiss. His protective
arms release me and adopt a very different role. No longer is he my saviour,
he’s my lover.

There’s nothing like a near death
experience to get the adrenalin pumping and pumping it is, making every muscle
tighten and contract with an all-consuming need for sexual contact. I lift my
leg over so I can straggle him, I’m so turned-on I’m losing control, forgetting
where we are, willing him take me.

“Beth stop, we can’t,” he states in a less
than convincing voice. “We can’t.”

“I need this, I need you Ayden.” I barely
recognise myself.

“Not here. We can’t. Not here.”

Breathless with need, I hear myself
pleading. “Stop saying that. Please, Ayden. You must have done it before?”

“No. Never.” His startled look tells me he’s
totally truthful.

Knowing that drives me on. His kisses
intensify and find my throat, he brushes his lips beneath my ear and I make that
sound he loves so much. “Ah.”

It’s enough to stimulate him to the point
from which there is no return. He stands me upright and snatches my hand. “Come
with me.”

He escorts me to the rear of the plain
like I’m under arrest for a crime of passion, and pushes me into the washroom.
It’s hardly spacious but there’s room enough to do what he intends to do. He
switches places and sits on the toilet seat, locking the door behind me. I
reach down, fondle his erection through his jeans and revel at the sight of him
leaning back, defenceless. The thought of doing this has been rattling around
in my head all morning.

I take his tongue in my mouth and suck,
deepening our kiss. Our moans echo around the small compartment.

“Jesus Beth, you’re killing me,” he purrs.

I will here none of it. “I’m not killing
you Ayden. I’m loving you.” Unable to hold back, I start rubbing myself against
him. “Can’t you tell?”

I want to feel his skin on mine, flesh on
flesh. In a dramatic pull, I lift off his sweater, arms up, hair all over the
place and then proceed to pin him down with my craving for forbidden sex. My
hands are resting on pectoral muscles wrapped in scented hair and the fusion of
the two is driving me wild.

I begin unbuttoning his black jeans, all
fingers and thumbs. When I take hold of him in both hands, he utters a deep groan
and tilts his head back. His noises ignite my steaming passion, my breathing
hitches and my insides start to quiver. The aircraft is beginning to fight its
way through clear air again but I don’t care, I’m too focused on Ayden’s
impressive hard on as it stands to attention unsupported by my hands.

His hands are everywhere, gripping my
thighs, devilish thumbs heading north, testing the durability of the seams as
they progress towards my saturated crutch. He pulls down my trousers and lacy
black panties in a most ungentlemanly fashion, but that’s ok, we don’t have
time for lengthy foreplay. The sensation of his right hand sliding beneath me
is unspeakably good. When the fingers of that hand make their way through wet
flesh and insert me, my God I have to call out his name. “Ayden.”

He’s coming undone. “Forty six thousand
feet and I’m here fucking you in the toilet. What the hell am I doing?”

With his free hand he grabs the back of my
head and pulls my mouth forcefully onto his so he can wrap his tongue around
mine to the same rhythm as his invasive fingers. I keep time with my two handed
grip on his pulsating cock whilst rocking into him and clenching forcefully
around his fingers. I’m so close.

“Make me come.” I plead into his mouth,
yielding to my appetite for an orgasm. His left hand fists my hair while his
thumb curves into position, massaging my clitoris in slow rhythmic circles. He
has me right where he wants me, on the edge of an abyss.

Gasping for air I tighten and rock into
him, scorching spears of fire burning me from the inside out. I come, screaming
with ecstatic joy and ease back down to earth trembling.

Ayden has watched me up close and the
beads of sweat forming on his nose and the darkness of his pupils confess his
arousal. I lean into him and wipe his nose with my fingers.

“Do you have a condom?” I ask impetuously.

He gives me a reproving look and shakes
his head.

“What do you want?”

His breath quickens at the prospect of …
something. In fractured breaths he makes his request. “I want you to get on
your knees and blow me.”

Well that’s unequivocal. I respond with an
indignant stare, he mirrors my indignation. The man who was so masterful
earlier, clearly has not left the ‘building’, he’s very much alive and kicking
right here in this confined space.

He senses my hesitation. “What’s the
problem?”

“Nothing.” I try to ease my way onto the
floor, but there’s just something about kneeling on a toilet floor that
troubles my sensibilities. No matter which way I move, I can’t seem to position
myself comfortably.

“You’ll have to stand,” I state,
clambering up over his thighs, “There isn’t enough room.”

He rises and lifts me up briskly into a
standing position, turning us around so we are facing in the opposite
direction: now
his
back is against the door.

“Are you sure you’ve not done this
before?” I ask bright eyed. “You seem to have come up with a solution pretty
quickly?”

He rolls his eyes and starts to button up
his jeans.

“Hey, not so fast, now we’ve sorted out
the choreography, I want to dance.” I unbutton my blouse and open it up. “See?
You have me undoing
all
the buttons.”

We share the memory and his mouth forms
into a sexy smile. “You’re very disarming Miss Parker and very naughty.”

“I’m also good at BJ’s, apparently.” I tip
my head to the side and move in to him, allowing my mouth the caress his lips
very, very gently. I make my way south whilst being manoeuvred backwards onto
the toilet seat.

Once seated, I find myself perfectly
positioned to carry out his request. I pull down both his jeans and his boxers
and take a lecherous look; he stands before me, a glistening example of male,
physical perfection. Taught skin stretched over sculptured abs and hips. How
lucky am I?

His semi-erect penis falls into my right
hand and I begin moving up and down, up and down, rubbing my thumb around the
tip, coaxing him to harden. My new platinum bracelet tinkles and rattles as I
move, as a reminded of his love for me.