Story of Us trilogy 01: TouchStone for Play (54 page)

“You drive me fucking crazy,” he calls out
for the whole world to hear and presses a button on the door behind my head.
“Just drive.”

I feel the engine starting and the car
moving away from my apartment. What the hell is he doing? With his left hand
pins me down, he yanks down my jeans and panties, spreads my legs with his
right hand, keeping them parted with his knees. I can’t help but be aroused.
Just one look into his wild, indigo eyes tells me that he intends to fuck me
senseless, and that’s exactly what I want.

I feel his fingers stroking and caressing
me, feeling every fold and inch of my drenched skin. He slides a warm finger
inside and I moan and push into him, urging him to make me come.

His hand stills and I lower my chin and
focus on him, gasping at what I see. He’s enraged, glaring at me and about to
explode.

“You’re not sore and you’re not swollen,
and you look perfect. Why did you lie to me Beth?”

He inserts a second finger and pushes
deeper into me. I’m so turned-on I can barely speak, let alone confess.

My body responds, I move involuntarily
against his hand, pinioned beneath him with no hope of freeing myself. “Ayden,”
I call out. “Listen to my body, what’s it saying to you?”

He turns away, he isn’t listening to me or
my body, he’s not motivated by a need to please me into submission, he’s being
driven on by one mindless objective. To get me to the point where I’m so
aroused I will say and do anything.

With the swiftness of an athlete, he lifts
me from my horizontal position and flips me over so I am lying across his lap:
my head on the seat to the left of him and my stomach resting on his knees. I
try to push up with my elbows but he snatches at my hands, and holds them
together against my lower back. I know what’s about to happen next and the
thought of it has me in a sexual frenzy.

He slides his hand over my bottom and
slips two wet fingers inside me, I clench onto him, moaning and panting away
the feeling of total submission.

“Tell me why you lied to me, is there
someone else? Is that why you’re in such a hurry to get me out of the way?”

What!

“No, no-one, but I can’t say,” I moan
helplessly, so close to an orgasm that I think I will crush his fingers.

“I need to know why you lied to me. I can
take the bullshit off everyone else, but not off you Beth.” He slaps my
backside hard. I cry out, feeling the stinging sensation a single second before
he sinks his fingers into me again. My body is contorting and I’m fighting for
breath, over stimulated and climaxing onto him.

“I’m waiting.”

What’s he doing to me?

“Ayden, stop.” He slaps me again and this
time so forceful is his thrusting that I come onto his hand again, screaming
out his name.

As he massages my tingling cheeks, he
continues with his interrogation. “You’ve been a very bad girl. Why did you lie
to me Beth?”

When his hand slaps my tender flesh this
time, he pushes his hand beneath me and focuses his attention on my clitoris,
making me wince and convulse onto his knees. I’m fast approaching my limit, I
can’t take any more. It’s too much. Where’s the love in this? What started out
as an erotic encounter has become terrifying. I don’t think he’s going to stop
until I tell him the truth.

“Romeo,” I whimper, sobbing into the seat.
He pulls his hand from beneath me and slackens his grip on my bruised wrists.
I’m shaking uncontrollably and struggling to catch my breath between sobs. When
he reaches over to me I flinch and pull away until I’m just a small, tightly
wound body, lying in the foetal position on the back seat of his silver Rolls
Royce.

Minutes pass, they feel like hours.

“Please take me home.” I can’t even look
at him. I pull up my panties and jeans and try to flatten my hair. With little
thought, I pull it back and clip it off my face. My T-shirt serves as a cloth
to pat my cheeks and to wipe my nose. I look a mess. I feel a wreck.

Ayden issues and instruction; “Back to
Miss Parker’s apartment.” He then turns to me.

He attempts to speak, but is dumbstruck
when I raise my eyes and he sees my terror. Both his hands cover his face, more
out of shame than despair. There is a metre of space between us, but it might
as well be an ocean. I cannot touch him and he doesn’t know how to reach out to
me.

***

The car pulls up outside my apartment once
again. I make a move to leave and then turn back. He deserves to hear the
truth, it won’t make him feel any better about what he’s done, but it will make
my disloyalty a little more bearable. Fighting back sobs I confess.

“Jake texted me today while we were in the
air and asked me to get you on an earlier flight to Hong Kong because, quote,
‘the shit’s hitting the fan’ and you need to be there. So I lied to you so
you’d leave me, because I knew you wouldn’t go unless I had to be on my own for
some reason. It was a stupid lie. That’s the truth.” I brush away my tears,
wipe my nose with the back of my hand and take a fortifying breath.

His horror is palpable.

“Bye Ayden. Have a safe flight.”

Just as I’m stepping out of the car he
calls out, “Beth! … I told you I’d fuck up didn’t I?”

I turn to see his tear stained face.

“I don’t deserve you. I never have.” He
squeezes his eyes shut, barely able to speak. “Tell me truthfully, what we had
in Rome was good, wasn’t it?”

I lower my head, trying to hold back my
tears long enough to get the words out. “No, it wasn’t good Ayden ... it was
perfect.”

I take the long walk to my security door
and then my front door, just about managing to place one foot in front of the
other. I knew the next three days were going to be difficult, now they will be
unbearable.

Every time Dan relives his conversation
with Elise, he cannot help but smile. Here they were less than a week ago,
total strangers. Here they are now comrades in arms.

He gets back to his look-out post just in
time to spot the return of the ‘happy’ couple. He checks his watch: 1540hrs.
Anxiously, he waits for her to step out of the silver Rolls, crossing his
fingers that Stone will leave her to her fate: to him.

He waits.

Thirty minutes later, he’s still waiting.
With every passing second he’s becoming more agitated; his fingers are
twitching, his back is aching from standing. The wait is excruciating, but he
cannot tear his eyes away.

Without a word of warning, the car pulls
away. He’s glancing left and right, listening for the security door to slam
shut: Nothing. “What the fuck?”

All he can do is pull up a chair and watch
darkness fall, he daren’t move. He stands. A Peugeot appears and turns around
in the cul-de-sac then drives away and, for the next thirty minutes that’s all
that happens until …

Like a glowing metal object moving across
the night sky, the silver Rolls Royce glides into view. No-one emerges, and
then he sees her. She steps tentatively out of the car, stops and turns to face
him
, says something.

Through his zoom lens, he focuses on her
tear stained face; she’s the ghost he has lived with all these years, pale,
lifeless. Her clothes are creased and her hair …

“What the fuck has he done to you
princess?” Dan’s left hand grapples with the curtain, screwing it up into a
tight ball, rage sweeps through his veins like an avalanche. “I’ll make him pay
for this.”

All his senses are on high alert. He’s
listening for the security door to slam. There is goes. He’s watching the Rolls
weave its way around the cul-de-sac and disappear down the road. There it goes.
The coast is clear.

Carrying his rucksack, he slips the straps
over his gloved hands, pulls his front door to but does not lock it, knowing he
may need to return sharpish. With due care and attention, he deploys his best
covert skills and descends the stairs, one step at a time …

The emotional torment that comes after a
break-up far exceeds any physical suffering. I feel as if my spirit has been
broken. I’ve been violated, all because of a foolish and unnecessary lie. I
can’t forgive him and he can’t forgive himself for subjecting me to sexual torture.

Once inside, I realise all my luggage is
in the boot of his car, but it doesn’t matter. I won’t be dressing-up any time
soon. I click down the button on my Yale lock, resting my hand against the
door, trying to hold back the pain; it’s impossible it’s inside me, ripping me
apart like an exploding firework. All I want to do is climb into bed and sleep.
When I wake, all this will have been a terrible nightmare. I’ll get up and
wander onto our terrace and feast on croissants and fruit while Ayden reads out
the headlines.

Please God …

The car is stationary outside. From behind
my curtain, I watch dark clouds forming like a suffocating shroud over my home,
over my heart. The elements converge, creating a bleak and sombre backdrop to a
make-believe world. But, I’m home now, it’s back to reality, and what a fucking
miserable reality it is.

My laptop sits on the kitchen table. While
I’ve been collecting memories that will live with me forever, it’s been
collecting dust. I lift open the lid and return to a world I know; a world
where music comforts me, offers me catharsis and peace of mind. Right now I’ll
do whatever it takes to stop this agonising heartache.

But, I’m not prepared for what I see. The
desktop picture appears: it’s
that
picture. I can take anything but not
that. My legs give way and I hold onto the back of the chair for support.
Barely able to focus, I scroll down my iTunes library, knowing the exact song
I’m looking for. Rihanna asks the question for me:

What now …?

She puts my thoughts to music and I
collapse onto the chair, crumpled and misshapen. I look down at my hands,
resting my gaze on my engagement ring; a perfect sapphire in the shape of a
heart encased in a constellation of diamonds. Focusing on the irony and not its
beauty, I pull at it until my finger wriggles free and hold it up to the light
between my finger and thumb. It must have cost the earth.

Reluctantly, I place it on the table where
it glistens and winks at me with every step I take away from it. I look back,
fighting off a magnetic pull, but it has no hold on me now.

The walk into my bedroom is a gruelling
exercise in self-control, putting one foot in front of the other is unbearable
when you know you’re walking away from your destiny.

Somewhere out there in a faraway place beyond
the planets, two bright stars crossed paths; they came within touching distance
of each other and, for a brief instance, they basked in the glow of
interplanetary union: two celestial bodies fusing, becoming one. But now, their
trajectories have shifted, they have moved on and the space between is infinite.
We are those star crossed lovers.

I fall from the sky, come crashing down to
earth and descend into a black hole of despair, a solitary figure: I’m alone.

The song ends.

I lift my face from the sodden pillow ...
was that my doorbell …

The Story of Us continues
… 

The
Story of Us continues …

TouchStone

for giving©

TouchStone

forever©

Songs
featured in this book will soon be available as a cd. They are the perfect
accompaniment to

The
Story of Us ….

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it:

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