by Becky Cairns
‘Alex,’ he murmurs against my breast. ‘I can’t…take much…more…of this…torture,’ and following that statement I am lifted into the air as he goes to impale me. I throw my head back as the sensation of him stretching my insides takes my breath away, quite literally.
Taking a moment to gather oxygen and adjust, my mind is overloaded with the awareness of my budding emotions. It shouldn’t be there, none of this should be happening, but it is, it’s real and I can’t stop it spreading. All that exists is the here and now, this enigma of a man nestled comfortably, too comfortably, between my thighs. Everything else takes a back seat. Deep down though I know it will not last but come crashing down around me. It’s a disaster in the making. However, for the time being I’m latching on to this moment and soaking it up with every fibre of my being.
Gareth begins to rock back and forth creating a sensual rhythm, like a stream flowing gently along with the breeze. I cling to his shoulders, bringing our bodies closer still, if that is possible. His calloused hands take control of my hips while his lips part and drop sweet, moisten kisses on my shoulder, then the base of my neck and back again, alternating between the two. Every touch he rains down on me is familiar, yet foreign at the same time. It is bizarre.
I close my eyes and let him sweep me away in a current of fascinating sensations. Every jolt of his hips is like a magical spell being cast with an instant reaction, taking me to another level of dizzying desire. Our skin is slick with perspiration causing each intimate touch to slap or stick as we slide against one another. The combination of pheromones, his spicy cologne and the remnants of cigarette smoke linger in the electric air around us, creating the most intoxicating aroma.
The musty scent lulls me into a false sense of security, as if this is the most natural thing in the world and part of my day-to-day life. Against my belief, even against my conscience, but the stubborn part of me, the Id as they say, instinctively believes it to be the right course of action. How can something so wrong feel so right?
Gareth’s husky voice breaks through my clouded mind. ‘Alex, I…you…I can’t believe…’ he breaks off in an incoherent manner. ‘You do things to me that are unexplainable. I can’t…I can’t do it. I can’t…’ but whatever he is about to say is drowned out as the beginnings of an orgasm ripples through my core and I cry out in want.
Oh God, he quickens the pace and I am right there alongside him, matching him. My nails dig harder into his shoulders, scraping at his skin as I feel my walls begin to tighten, the blissful pressure building up for the eruption.
Gareth growls out in painful pleasure and aids the lifting and descending of myself, controlling the pace for maximum effect, pulling me down forcefully, hips crashing against hips. Grunts and heavy breathing take place of words as we near the end. I feel his hands grip my waist, hard enough to leave finger-like bruise marks and just as unexpected as a slap in the face, I throw my head back and cry out his name in total ecstasy.
Seconds later Gareth follows. He bites down hard on my right shoulder and pins me against him, while using the remaining energy to thrust right up inside, deep into the heart of my body, tipping him over the edge. As we ride the calming waves together, Gareth jerks a few times, releasing the last throes of his arousal.
Eventually he slowly sinks his back into the mattress, bringing me down with him cocooned in the security of his arms and I relax against his chest, resting my head against his shoulder. He momentarily releases an arm to pull the covers over us, warming our perspired bodies, before settling back into the comfortable embrace. I close my eyes and breathe in his calming scent as he strokes my head; fingers glide back and forth hypnotically.
I could get used to this. Oh Christ! What am I saying? I can’t get used to this, I shouldn’t! I’ve got a fiancé back at home probably frantic at my disappearance. Goodness knows how Maggie is coping and poor little Bethany. Our family is not having a good year! And Zoe! I left her with nothing but a hurried note and in the state she was in that was inexcusable. I’m a bad friend. I just wanted to get back to William, that’s all I could think about.
Now look at me! I’m lying in another’s embrace soaking up the aftermath of our rather intense coupling and there is nowhere else I’d rather be. Those that I love and left behind don’t even feature. What’s happening to me? What have I become? This is not good, not good at all.
Growing uncomfortable with my disturbing thoughts I raise myself up into a sitting position pulling away from Gareth’s comfortable embrace, one hand clutches the sheet to my chest.
Turning down to gaze at him my attention is drawn to the ring lying innocently on his chest. I pick it up between my fingers and continue to work out what the inscription says.
‘Forever united,’ his rough gravel breaks my concentration and I look down to see him staring up at me with those bedroom eyes.
‘Sorry?’
‘Forever united, that’s what it says. If you tilt it like so in the light,’ he takes hold of my hand holding the ring. ‘You are able to make it out.’ I smile as I am able to identify each letter forming the words.
My eyes never leaving the ring I ask, ‘What’s the story behind it?’
‘What makes you think there’s a story?’
‘With a historic looking ring engraved with meaningful words there is bound to be a story.’
‘Smart as well as sexy. Dangerous combination.’
My eyes shift to his face.
‘So?’
Looking down at the object of discussion, his face transforms from playfulness to one of sorrow and if I’m not mistaken, there’s a spark of anger glistening in his pupils.
Gareth sighs.
‘My dad gave it to me on my eighteenth birthday. He took me to the side, pattered me on the shoulder then in the authoritative tone he liked to use a lot, said, “You’re a man now. It’s about time you proved it and know your place. You’re a part of this family and families stick together, no matter what.” The rest escapes me. Something about loyalty and watching each other’s back. Mark had one, as did my dad. It’s a family ring. You see the lion.’ He uses his index finger to run along the shape. ‘It represents “pride”. A pride of lions - fearless and ruthless, especially joined as one. Symbolic.’ Gareth exhales. ‘That’s what my dad thought anyhow. It’s come to mean something different to me, something more worthy of the symbolic meaning. To my father it was about control, him being in control, with Mark and I as the loyal cubs, always to do what he says and follow in his footsteps. But to me…to me…’ he frowns and his hands shake ever so slightly.
‘What? You can tell me,’ and I reach out to wrap his hand in mine. They are surprisingly cold.
‘To me it’s about looking out for each other because of love, not control or power. To me, the lion is still symbolic of “pride”, but it has more to do with pride in those you love. When you love unconditionally, only then I think you are worthy of this ring and what comes with it. My father never deserved it, he just abused it. Mark sure as hell didn’t. He betrayed every meaning behind the ring. I just hope I have come to deserve it.’
There it goes again, that little tug to my heart as I gaze at his forlorn face. The sorrow trapped behind his eyes.
‘So, the “Forever united” bit…’
‘Simply that. To be united with those you love no matter what, whether it is child, wife, husband, family or friend. It doesn’t matter if they’ve died, moved away, disappeared, or whatever. Every time you wear this ring they are a little bit closer. It’s a band of trust and affection. When someone sees that ring on display they will know you still harbour feelings for whoever gave it to you. It’s special. To me it’s something to be treasured not owned and is given out of compassion not as a form of statement. I wear it to remind me of the love my family used to have. The way we used to be. While my memories remain plagued, this ring casts a light through the gloom.’
My throat constricts with emotion and I desperately try and hold back the
tears, but it is futile as Gareth brings his hand up to my cheek and using his thumb, wipes away the watery substance that is slowly trickling down my skin unnoticed.
I close my eyes as his palm spreads to cup my cheek, soaking everything in, hoping and wishing that this feeling would stay in my memory forever. No matter what happens, or where our paths will take us, I want to treasure the closeness I’m sharing with this man. To look back on it with fondness and…
Bring, bring! Bring, bring! Bring, bring! And a bloody phone breaks the moment. A frustrated groan escapes Gareth as he twists away from me, leans over the bed and retrieves the irritating noise from his trouser pocket.
‘What?’ he barks down the line.
I take a moment in his inattention to admire his back. The strong muscles of his shoulders ripple under the thin layer of skin and bare the evidence of my heated passion as red welts mar his flesh. His long, lean waist is crying out to be held in my arms. Heat spreads to my core as I recollect those hips crashing into mine with such determined power.
‘You bastard!’ Christ! I almost fall out of bed at the fierce anger projected. ‘You come anywhere near her, I swear to God, your life won’t be worth living!’
This does not sound good.
Chapter Twenty-Three
He leaps from the bed and starts to strut angrily around his bedroom, heedless of his nakedness.
‘What do you want?’ Gareth growls while peering through the slit in the curtains and down to the street below, eyes alert. ‘I bet you do,’ he sneers down the phone. ‘Do you truly think a little plea will make me want to roll over and submit? You must be more of a fool than I thought.’
Gazing about for something to wear, I spot a dark blue dressing gown flung over a chair in the corner. Sliding out of Gareth’s side of the bed, I reach for it and wrap it around my rapidly cooling body. The material engulfs me, making me feel like a little girl again, but instantly heat begins to sweep its way throughout my aching muscles. The polyester tickles my skin and a fresh aroma drifts up towards my nose and into my sinuses. Pure Gareth smell.
After clearing my head I make my way back towards the bed and settle down in the centre. Now cosy, comfortable and calm I turn my attention towards Gareth.
‘Like hell I will!’ Okay, forget calm. ‘It’s your fault you’re in this mess in the first place and you drag me in with you! I never wanted this! Anyway, you were the one who came to me and now I get the pleasure in telling her the truth about you and your scummy doings,’ he says menacingly.
I wonder who he’s talking to.
‘You think that is a threat? My life is so full of crap another pile won’t make much difference. My existence consists of nothing but being miserable…you do that if it makes you feel better, but let me tell you something, one way or another she will find out the truth. That’s a promise.’ A deathly silence settles as the other person replies. ‘Then you will just have to silence me another way.’
The rosy hue of his cheeks suddenly loses all colouration and his face turns a chalky white. Gareth stumbles against the windowsill, almost dropping his phone. If it weren’t for his stricken expression the moment would have been comical, what with his naked attire. The chilling look in his eyes brings me up sharp. I hear a faint, deep cackle on the other end of the line.
‘No, no, this can’t be happening, it can’t be true. You’re nothing but a rat that gets in the way…who are you, really? ....Stop talking a load of bollocks and just fucking tell me will you, don’t you think you’ve messed around with people’s lives too much already!’ Gareth slams his palm flat against the wall, the sound echoes about the room. ‘You sick bastard!’ He abruptly turns from the window to pace, back and forth back and forth against the wooden floor, throwing his spare arm in the air as he goes.
‘Now you listen to me…just shut it will you…this is what I’m going to do. I’m going to show her the evidence of what you truly are and that you are nothing more than a lowlife criminal. You are no better than…’ his eyes widen and jaw slackens. ‘How can you possibly know that? No one else was there, unless…You know! You bloody well know, don’t you? You were part of it! Weren’t you? Weren’t you? ...How many more lives have you ruined? How many more people are you going to hurt before you realise you’re only destroying yourself in the long run…What do I know? You got to be kidding right?’ Gareth chuckles humourlessly. ‘Because that’s what I am, that’s what I’ve become, but at least I have the conscience to recognise this, you simply carry on, blissfully unaware of your own downfall.’
Then it takes a turn for the worse and I can do nothing but watch Gareth crumble before my very eyes.
‘Wh-what did you just say? Wh-wha-wh…’ and the phone slips from his hand and careens to the floor, fear starting to seep into his pupils turning them from a vibrant blue to an almost steel grey. It’s like the fight has suddenly deserted him and an empty shell is all that remains.
Without a second thought, I rush over to the abandoned mobile phone on trembling legs and scream down the line, ‘I don’t care who you are, what you’ve done or why you called, but never call again! Leave us alone!’ A gasp reaches my ear before the line goes dead.
Why did I do that? What did it accomplish? Oh God, this is too much! I’m even trembling!
‘Gareth…’ I quiver, turning to return his phone but is stopped midsentence to see him scuttling about in a fresh pair of blue boxer shorts, half buttoned up black shirt and in the process of scrambling around for his jeans.
‘What are you doing?’
‘I have had enough of this crap,’ he says more to himself than in reply. ‘It’s about time it came to end so we all can get back to our miserable fucking lives. That bastard thought he could get away with it, he better think again. He’s going to get what he deserves; I’ll make sure of that.’
‘Gareth, you’re starting to scare me now.’
He looks up from buttoning his jeans, pure hatred burning his eyes, but with concern lingering on the edge. How can so much be contained in one look?
Gareth holds eye contact for a few seconds before turning his focus back onto his jeans, fingers occasionally slipping out of agitation.
‘Get changed. It’s about time you knew the truth,’ and with that, he grabs his jacket and breezes out of the bedroom, slamming the door as he goes.
Oh God.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Tall blocks of glass, brick and metal tower high into the sky blocking out the sun and only allowing little filters of light to weave its way through the gaps in the buildings. Shadows suffocate the street, hordes of people of all shapes and sizes, ages and ethnicity bustle up and down, always on the move and cars varying in make and design continuously honking their horn, stopping for no one. All this is everywhere I look, there is no escape, but I neither see nor hear any of it.
My mind is overrun with these mixed up emotions. Now left to my own devices of sorts, I can’t help but dwell on these past few days, especially last night and this morning. Something has shifted; deep down I can feel it in my bones. I can’t describe it, Christ; I don’t even know where to begin, but my perception has changed.
Where once I thought Gareth to be nothing more than a cold hearted killer looking for revenge, most likely through raping or killing me, I see that is not the case. In telling his stories, his background, I have come to understand him. Well, as much as anyone can get to understand Gareth. There is more to him than meets the eye and I’ve become engrossed in his life. I feel ashamed to admit this but there it is.
The more he leaked about his past, about himself, the more compassion I felt towards him. Bit by bit that compassion has grown into something deeper. I have no control in its development.
I twist my head to the silent man behind my predicament. Eyes locked in place gazing ahead; jaw clenches and unclenches like he is trying to keep anger at bay and eyebrows furrowed with lips pressed together. His face is taut. The softness has disappeared along with the warmth. This man
means business.
Gareth is the embodiment of everything I hate in a man. Okay, hate may be a bit strong. Dislike is a better word.
He can’t go an hour, unless he’s sleeping, without lighting up one of his fragrant cigarettes. He drinks whiskey as if there were an endless supply of the liquor. He keeps his cards so close to his chest it’s virtually impossible to get a glimpse of his hand and when he does decide to lay bare, it’s on his terms and he is soon gathering them back up again. It is like he is afraid to show his vulnerability and if he does it leaves him open for attack. Maybe that is the case, but I find it all endearing and there lies my problem.
I may have despised these things in the past, but gradually they have grown on me and I can’t envision life without these subtle qualities.
Under normal circumstances I would find myself driven away by such complicity in a guy, but this is no normal circumstance, far from it. It’s not every day you are kidnapped by a complete stranger, told that your fiancé, who you love and trust with your life, isn’t who you thought they were, and unwanted feelings blossom for a man you should fear. There’s nothing normal about my situation at all. I like stability in my life. Gareth is far from it.
For the first time I now understand what it feels like to be out of your depth.
A sharp jolt of the van brings me back to the here and now and I finally take note of what’s zooming past outside.
The ugly grey and brown building blocks have morphed into huge expanses of luxurious green fields, hedgerows and clumps of forests on the horizon. Blue sky is spread as far as the eye can see, not a single cloud mars the pureness of it all. And in the distance are black dots on top of a hill, most likely deer grazing.
We have left the hectic London life behind and entered peaceful tranquillity where you can embrace nature and wash away all impurities from your mind. Unfortunately I am incapable of taking in the beauty that’s on offer as there are too many disturbing thoughts clogging up my brain.