TouchStone for ever (The Story of Us Trilogy)

by Sydney Jamesson

  “Is this your way of telling me I’m forgiven?” he asks, covering my mouth with his.

  Breathless, I answer, “Yes, forgiven - and that I love you.” I pull his mouth onto mine, taking hold of his hair in both hands and holding him in place. “I’ve missed you, Ayden.”

  “And I you, Beth.”

  With silent music we waltz over to the doorway. The bedroom is only ten yards away but I grab hold of the doorframe before we can pass through it. “Here. I want you here.”

  He looks around, gaining his bearings, sizing up the wall. He lowers me until my feet touch the floor and begins to remove his jacket.

  “No. Leave it on. I can picture what you look like underneath.” I begin unfastening his belt, then the buttons on his trousers, eager to feel him in my hands.

  He’s fiddling with my jeans, pulling out my blouse in handfuls and letting it drift over my derriere like foam on ocean waves. An involuntary moan leaves my throat when he pushes down my jeans and my panties in a single, forceful movement.

  I wrestle with a stubborn zip and wriggle his impressive cock out of his trousers; his boxers catch over it, making it necessary for me to gently free it from the folds.

  He sanctifies our union with passionate kisses so deep and urgent I can barely catch my breath. My face is encased in his hands. I feel desired and loved. When I open my eyes he is staring ahead, a boyish smile manifests, and I am once again reunited with the man I adore.

  I want to say so much but only one word leaves my lips in breathy exhalation. “Ayden.”

  Without a word of warning I’m being lifted. The interior wall hits my back with a thud. A hard, unyielding cock seeks me out as I balance on taut forearms. I’m clawing at his hair and sucking on his tongue as our breaths dissolve into rapturous moans of delight.

  Words hiss from his mouth in a garbled cry. “I have always wanted you like this. To take you is the sweetest thing, Beth. I may be elemental but you give me life.”

  In a single thrust he enters me, swallowing up my moans as the sweet agony of his penetration has me convulsing. Slowly he rocks, back and forth, widening the gap, making the outward movement infinitesimally longer each time until he is ready, once again, to slide into me in one stomach-clenching thrust.

  He growls with contentment. “Look at me, Beth.”

  I open my eyes and see my husband’s features. All my senses combined serve only to seduce me into total submission. Through heated breath he whispers, “I love you. You belong to me.”

  I grip him internally. His mouth twitches and his hips jerk forward in response. I smile and reply, ”I love you more, and you belong to me.” I crush him once again and seal my mouth against his, swallowing up the garbled sounds of pleasure emanating from his throat as he thrusts deeply, grinding his hips against mine, grappling with my buttocks. He’s unbridled and I’m his for the taking.

  I close my eyes and allow my head to fall backward. Our orgasms converge and build until they become a searing bonfire of ecstatic flames so intense I fear we will melt like altar candles.

  The flames subside. He has me in his powerful embrace and I can do no more than revel in his magnificence. It hits me like a bolt of lightning: he will always catch me, I will never fall; he will always love me and keep me safe forever. What more can I ask for?

  I wished for a prince and have been blessed with an angel.

  ***

  The highlight of Mack’s day was when he made the discovery that Elise Richards was the last person to speak to Dan Rizler. His understudy, D.C. Sheridan emailed him the list of calls just after lunchtime, at that moment when he was beginning to feel his four-part premise was a figment of his imagination. He just can’t fathom why a man plotting to rape and kidnap an innocent young woman would bother ringing an estate agent.

  After he kicks his shoes off; relieves the after-dinner glass of its golden liquid and sits himself down in his favourite chair, he is ready to face what amounts to another square peg to slot into a round hole. In the time it takes him to read through the list of calls, he’s convinced he’s made a discovery: Elise Richards and Dan Rizler became friends after the rental agreement was signed for the Elm Gardens apartment. But why?

  It’s as if a light bulb goes on behind his eyes! He grins and shakes his head. “You both had a vested interest. Well I never!”

  Of course, he knows it’s purely hypothetical, but that doesn’t stop him from digging out a roll of wallpaper from under the stairs and stretching it out ready for pasting over his dining table. Instead of paste he uses felt pens, and, instead of broad strokes, he scratches away, decorating the sheet with circles, arrows and lines that lead onto other lines and circles. After an hour spent scribbling, he has what looks like a complex network of connections. On the page there are four names and they are all linked to one another directly or by association.

  All he needs now is proof.

  ***

  In a room starved of light, I’m being roused from my sleep. “What time is it?”

  “It’s time to get up, darling. Get dressed. Wrap up warm and wear comfortable shoes.”

  I’m rubbing my eyes, still half asleep. “Where’s the fire?”

  Ayden laughs, switches on the bedside lamp and hands me a cup of tea. “There’s no fire. There’s something I want to show you.”

  “It’s 6.15 a.m. Can’t it wait until the sun comes up?” I ask mid-yawn.

  “No.” He folds his arms and taps his foot impatiently.

  “Do I have time to shower?”

  “No need. We won’t be gone long.” He hands me my bathrobe. “Now be a good girl and get some clothes on, or else.”

  “Or else what?” I call out.

  “Or else you’ll miss it.”

  I do as I’m told; slipping on clean underwear, my jeans and a sweater. In less than ten minutes I’m dressed.

  He hands me my jacket. “You might want to tie back your hair.”

  I grab a clip from my bag and scrape it back into a rough ponytail. “Are you sure I don’t have to look my best?”

  He reaches out for my hand and pulls me to him until out noses are touching. “You always look your best, because you are the best. Now take a deep breath and close your eyes. Don’t open them until I say so. Alright?”

  I haven’t the slightest idea what his surprise is, but he’s so insistent I’m happy to go along with it.

  “Are your eyes closed?”

  I nod.

  “Good. Hold tight.” He wraps his arms around me until I am no more than a small bundle of flesh and bones encased in something much more durable.

  I feel kind of woozy and respond with a shudder to a gust of air crossing my face. From somewhere there is the sound of nature, of birds and of wind brushing against leaves.

  He releases his grip, encouraging me to stand upright, his hands on my forearms. “Open your eyes,” he urges.

  What I’m confronted by causes me to lean back and gasp. “What the hell!”

  He laughs softly. “Don’t worry. You’re perfectly safe. We’re here to see the sunrise over the Tianmen Mountain Range.”

  I reach out to hold onto his arm. “How did we get here?”

  He smiles softly. “I brought us here so we could see the sunrise together. It will rise in four minutes.”

  “And you’re sure about that are you? Not five or ten …”

  He shakes his head and pulls me to him. We are standing side by side. Instinctively I enfold him in my arms and feel an unimaginable intimacy brewing between us.

  “All I can see are shadows but I sense we’re high up.” He nods and rests his chin on my hair. To my left a luminescent glow appears; dawn approaches from the east and peeps over one distant peak, then another and another, flooding the sky with light. “Oh my God!” I declare, tears forming and overflowing until they’re drizzling down my cheeks. My mouth falls open with the marvel of it all. Before us is the world in all its splendour; rivers, peaks, clouds and the sun-drenched sky; every
element assembled to create this monumental canvas of natural wonders. And here we stand, on a walkway clinging to a mountain. I tear my eyes away from the view and look down and scream out loud.

  “Argh!” I bury my face in his chest, but that familiar rumble of laugher reassures me I am in the safest of hands.

  “Don’t be scared. Look.” He eases me away from his body and we look down together at the glass, metre-wide walkway. “It’s the best way I could think of to show you my world, Beth. This is Heaven’s Gate Mountain. Aptly named, I think.” He takes hold of my hand and presses it against his lips. With his right arm he presents a wide arc. “You see?”

  “There are more things in heaven and earth, Beth,

  Than are dreamt of in your philosophy.”

  I snigger at his quote from Hamlet. “I see that now.” I reach up and kiss his cheek. “Thank you for sharing this with me. It’s an experience that will stay with me forever. I just wish I’d brought my camera, although I doubt any picture I take will do it justice.”

  He slides his hand into the pocket of his jeans. “I thought you might need this.” He hands me my camera.

  I smile appreciatively. “Thank you. You think of everything.”

  He senses his cue. “Not everything. I didn’t think that our arrangement would be so hard on you. I assumed too much and yet you have given me your time and your love.” He lifts up my chin and I’m held spellbound; the early morning sunlight has exposed the flashes of cerulean in his eyes and I can’t help but be bewitched by their luminosity.

  “I intend to make this adventure of ours truly memorable for us both, Beth. Beginning today.” I feel his lips against mine in a soft kiss that communicates sincerity and love.

  How could I not fall in love with this unique individual who personifies all that is most heavenly and handsome in this world?

  He takes my hand and we begin our Skywalk. He points out peaks and follows the line of the S shaped road with his forefinger; he disperses clouds below us that threaten to ruin the view and points me in the direction of the rising sun so I might feel its heat on my face. I’m overwhelmed by his knowledge and his powers and his willingness to forsake all else for me.

  Before we leave I edge him forward in front of me. From behind I lift up his arms into flying position. “This is our Titanic moment, Ayden. The best so far.”

  He takes hold of my hands and wraps them around his body. “Yes it is, Beth and just the start of many. You’ll see. Close your eyes, baby.”

  With his words ringing in my ears I do as he asks. In that split second I feel a little woozy, as before, and the wind brushing against my face.

  “Open your eyes.”

  I should be surprised, but I’m not. He turns around and faces me, looking even more handsome than I had imagined him to be. “That’s one hell of a trick.”

  He grins broadly. “I like to think it’s one of my better ones.”

  Impulsively, I slide my hands around his neck, jump up and wrap my legs around his waist. “Let’s go back to bed and dream of more adventures.”

  He hoists me up into a comfortable position. “Let’s not.”

  I’m being carried to my bed and all I can do is giggle. “You’re insatiable, Mr. Stone.”

  “This is true, Mrs. Stone,” he declares, throwing me over his shoulder and smacking me softly on my right cheek, making me squeal. “Now let’s see if we can turn those giggles into moans.”

  Oh my …

  20

  Breakfast is served on the dining table; I delve into an array of nicely prepared hot and cold dishes with a heavy helping of contentment. Sharing the memories of last night’s wall sex and this morning’s playful romp, we’re glancing furtively at each other, smiling when we catch each other’s eye.

  I’m able to face each day with a profound sense of weightlessness; it’s as if a burden has been lifted from my shoulders. I’m free to take life as it comes and approach each new adventure with a greater sense of purpose and dedication.

  I catch Ayden discretely checking his watch. “Do you need to be somewhere?”

  “Unfortunately yes, but only for an hour. I gave our three guilty offenders 24 hours to repay what they had embezzled before taking it to a higher authority,” he states, pushing back his chair and throwing down his napkin.

  “A higher authority you say? And who would that be, God Almighty?” I smirk, finding my comment amusing.

  He places one hand in his trouser pocket and the other on my hair. His lips brush against my forehead. “Are you ridiculing my choice of phrasing, dear wife?”

  “I wouldn’t dare,” I mutter, raising my eyes to catch the humour sparkling in his eyes.

  ”I will be one hour and then we’ll decide what to do. We can go sight-seeing or take the jet to our honeymoon destination. Let me know what you’d prefer so I can have them prepare for the flight.” He takes one step towards the door.

  Before he leaves, I say what needs to be said. “Remember to include Jake in your business transactions. He has something to give you that may prove useful.”

  He glances back. “And what might that be?”

  “It’s a pen drive with the actual and reported figures from your three dishonest employees,” I announce, surprising him with my declaration.

  “Is it indeed? In that case I’ll give him a call.”

  “That’s why he wasn’t at the meeting,” I call out. “He was gathering evidence together for you.”

  He leaves without replying and I’m left alone in this palatial suite to muse over recent events. But this is not the time to ponder. In the limited time I have I must take care of a number of things.

  My iPhone indicates I have a couple of texts to reply to.

  Charlie’s comments about Belgian men and cheese make me chuckle and her late night selfies remind me of just how much of a firecracker she is. What a lifeline she has been all these years.

  Once my laptop has booted up I go straight to email and give thanks when I see Patrick’s response. He has attached a copy of Ayden’s Birth Certificate and it opens straight away. Naturally it’s slightly out of focus, but the names that matter can be easily read.

  Saffir Ayden Pierre

  Isabel Françoise Pierre

  I can’t believe I haven’t asked Ayden when his birthday is. Now September 7th will be forever etched in my brain. I jot down all the details on letterhead stationery conveniently laid out on the bureau; I hope these dates and names will be all the information I need to move forward with my plan.

  I finish of my glass of orange juice and wait for my digital scrapbook to load. I’m scrolling through, barely able to recognise the entries. They’re light-hearted and playful, exuding love - and yet, if you read between the lines, it’s possible to detect my inner sadness. Regardless, I have to press on. Ayden must remember these days if and when he returns to me and this record of time spent in foreign lands will serve as a memory aid. I listen to Katy Perry and I’m Thinking of You …

  NOVEMBER #5

  “I would not wish any companion in the world but you.”

  William Shakespeare: The Tempest.

  Aren’t you the clever one! You solved the crime and saved the day! The embezzlers have been exposed, but you paid the price with your time and volunteered Jake to be my minder. It was a selfless act. I made him endure a session of clothes shopping and bag carrying and we were soaked in the rain so … quite an eventful day for us both.

  When I got back you were waiting for me. We haven’t been apart for days and I needed to hear your voice and feel your hands on my body, the way I always do. We didn’t make it to the bedroom. There’s a lot to be said for wall sex! (Blushing)

  Today you arranged a sightseeing trip to The Tianmen National Park where we watched the sun rise over mountain tops from a glass walkway perched precariously on the side of Heaven’s Gate Mountain. I loved every minute of it, Ayden. Thank you. These things we share are so precious to me…

  I stop. My fingers
are frozen and my hands begin to shake so violently I think I may hurt myself. I slam them down on my thighs and inhale - deeply, slowly and hold each breath until I feel able to release it. Before I can stop myself, words spew out like blood from a severed artery;

  … every day I think of what we had and what I may never experience again with you. I know I promised to always take care of you and I’m trying so hard to do that, Ayden, but you just don’t know…

  He has me cornered. He seduces me with your words and your smile and yesterday he brought the heavens down upon me because I laughed when he wasn’t there. Now he knows my body; he touches me with your hands, and it’s the familiar heat from your body that makes me burn.

  I must be everything he wants me to be; to do everything he wants me to do if I’m to have any hope of seeing you again.

  You know I would do anything to save you. My betrayal is guiltless. If I must sell my soul to the devil to save you, I will. We will be reunited, baby; if not in this world then in the next - because I can’t live this lie indefinitely. I have to know we’ll meet again for my life to have any meaning.

  So be strong, Ayden. I’ll look for you in those heated moments when our two worlds collide; when we are locked together, inseparable, for ever. Please forgive me …

  Yours, Beth …

  I come to my senses and snap out of my moment of defeatism. Confounded by the sincerity of my confession I read it through as if stumbling across it for the first time. I’m reminded of the person I have become; I am the archetypal princess, imprisoned in a tower; surrounded by wealth and luxury beyond her wildest dreams and yet finding little joy in this gilded cage. But I have to wonder: is this where I belong? I am guilty of many crimes, some too shameful to name.

  Remorse thrums through my body like the remnants of a thunderstorm. Yesterday’s storm has dispersed and I must see to it my internal tempest does the same. I have thirty minutes to rediscover my game face or everything I have done will have been for nothing. I let the music play while placing the cursor on the last letter of my confession, and hit delete until every single word has been removed. Only I know what secrets were revealed on that blank page and it has to stay that way.