by Alyson Belle
A light touch on her shoulder startled her from her thoughts, and she turned around, ready with a cross word for her maidservant since Helena had asked not to be interrupted this evening. But it was not her maidservant who stood before her.
“Gaius!” she cried.
She could hardly believe it, but there he stood: her handsome husband, weary from his travels and smelling of salt and sea, but with a smile as wide and bright as she’d ever seen. Helena threw herself into his arms with a cry of delight and held him tightly. He was warm and solid and real, and most importantly, home safe from his journeys.
His rich laughter burbled up as he spun her in a circle while she shrieked with delight, and they fell onto their four-post bed together in a tangled flurry of kisses that were every bit as passionate as when they’d met. Helena couldn’t stop smiling, but as he began to push her dress up her legs and shower her with kisses in places other than her mouth, she pulled away and swatted him in mock irritation.
“You told me it would be months before you were back!”
He chuckled and slid closer, moving his hands beneath her to squeeze her behind. “The talks went well. We finished early and headed for home. I came straight from the harbor.”
“You should have sent a messenger. I’ve been sick with worry.”
“You worry too much, darling. Isn’t it better to be surprised like this?”
Helena would have objected, play-arguing with Gaius as they both liked to do, if she hadn’t been so distracted by what his expert hands were doing to her ass, working slowly down to the backs of her thighs and sliding up to caress the silky inner area just below her sex. Her breath caught and her head fell back against the pillow as a thrill of excitement shivered through her, and she moaned lightly. A smile played across Gaius’s lips.
My gods, but he knows how to work my body, she thought. It’s not even fair for a man to be this distracting!
But two could play at this game. She could feel the passion stirring in her body, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of attending to her first. Gaius was the warrior, but he’d taught her a thing or two about going on the offensive. She sat up abruptly and pulled her cotton dress away from her body, leaving herself only in the silver necklace she always wore and a few rings and bracelets of the finest gold. She smiled to herself as his eyes nearly popped out of his head and guttural growl came from his throat. If there was one thing you could count on about men being away at sea, it was that they’d be starved for a woman on their return.
Helena took advantage of her husband’s momentary disarmament by roughly drawing his own clothing off of his body, and she sighed appreciatively as she surveyed his smooth, hard muscles, and allowed herself the pleasure of tracing the curve of his warm bicep with her hand. It was such a pleasure to have him here, solid, before her once again. She’d dreamed of this moment every night she’d been apart from him.
He allowed her to silently draw him to the edge of the bed, and Helena slid smoothly to the floor between his legs, grateful for the soft weave of the thick Persian carpet that laid across the cool marble of the room and protected her sensitive knees as she rubbed her breasts against his thighs, both of them enjoying the sensations. She kissed his torso and worked her way toward his pleasantly stiffening cock with a wicked grin, enjoying the way Gaius’s eyes shined eagerly.
Cupping his manhood with a soft hand, she whispered, “Did you miss me?”
“Oh gods yes,” he moaned while she squeezed him lightly. “You have no idea.”
She had some idea, if it was anything like the ache she’d felt night after night alone in their bed, while she touched the secret wetness between her legs and yearned for his return, but all her friends said it was even worse for men. Considering how bad the ache was for her, she couldn’t imagine what Gaius must have been feeling—but she did know how to relieve him. That was one area where she’d always had a special talent.
Helena took him in her mouth, rolling her wet tongue along the velvet-smooth underside of his stiff, wide cock, humming in tune with the rising moan that escaped his lips. His hands twined her through her hair, a familiar grip, as he writhed and bucked against her. If she hadn’t been so excited to see him, she might have choked, but she suppressed the urge and worked him until his fingers tightened painfully in her hair. After a few moments he came, spilling his hot, salty seed into her mouth alongside his loudest moan yet. She had no choice but to swallow it, trapped as she was, but she didn’t mind in the least.
Gaius fell back onto the bed, releasing her, and she crawled up to cradle his naked body, tracing her fingertips along the battle-hardened muscles of his stomach as she cuddled against him. Serving her man in this way, her man, home at last, brought more joy to her than she could explain.
“I missed you so much,” she whispered, playing idly with his hair.
“I missed you too,” he replied. “But there’s just one thing…”
“What?”
“You didn’t think I was going to let you do that without returning the favor, did you?”
She shrieked with delight as he flipped her over, kissing her body aggressively and swirling his tongue across her breasts and stomach, working his way down eagerly until he was moving his mouth against her own, wet, hot sex. Heat began to grow across her body, in her cheeks and her nether regions both. Gaius was a master with his tongue, and just as his fingers had tightened in her hair, hers now tightened against the rumpled cotton sheets, gathering them up in the futile gesture of a desperate woman clinging to whatever was nearby in the face of a rushing, fearsome river of ecstasy. It finally broke across her like a waterfall that shook her legs powerfully and drenched her in the full-body pleasure that only her Gaius, her sweet eternal lover, could bring to her…
Jamie sighed happily as his eyes fluttered open, still radiating with the joy of the powerful orgasms that had rocked Helena’s body, and for a long moment he had trouble identifying where he was. This drab, dark room couldn’t possibly be the sun-drenched isle of Santorini, and the faded beige carpeting on his floor was not the marble palace he’d shared with Gaius.
Then he remembered where he really was, and more importantly, who he was. He was Jamie, not Helena, but the dream had felt every bit as real as the life he was living now. He’d never had dreams that vivid until the night he’d met Liam on the bridge, over a week ago now, and now he’d had a dream like this almost every night, always the same. The passion, the sex, that damned necklace… the fact that he remembered genuinely inhabiting those bodies, having breasts and a female sex, remembered what it felt like to have his partner swirl his tongue around his clit or fuck him from behind until he came over and over again in their marriage bed. They were sensations he’d never had before in his life, couldn’t have had before because of his male body, and yet he still knew exactly what those things felt like thanks to the bizarre dreams that wouldn’t stop haunting him.
“What’s happening to me?” he whispered to no one in particular. The conclusion was obvious, it was staring him right in the face, but there’s no way it could be true. Could it? Was it possible that he was Liam’s soulmate? That in past lives, he’d actually been Helena and Katherine and all the other women whose lives and faces were coming back to him in fragments of dreams, night after night?
“But why?” he murmured, drawing his knees tight against his chest. “Why would I come back as a man this time, if that’s who I really am?”
It certainly explained a lot of the complicated and conflicted feelings he’d had in his life. Again he thought of his ex-girlfriend, Jeanette, and the awkward conversation he’d had with Marisa in the restaurant the other day. He’d felt genuine affection for Jeanette—he had!—and maybe even love in a way, but every time she’d try to coax him into bed he’d balk. It wasn’t her. He’d always wanted her, physically. But he couldn’t stop thinking about his body and how… how ugly it was. How masculine. He’d never say it to anyone, but he hated being a man. He hated a
ll the impositions and uncomfortable male bonding rituals and the fact that he wasn’t allowed to express his emotions. He hated how he felt like he couldn’t be truly genuine and just part of the group with his female friends. Always an outsider, even when they were close. Always held back by an invisible line he wasn’t permitted to cross. His life had always felt wrong to him and he’d never understood why, and worse, he felt deeply, deeply ashamed about it. It was that feeling that eventually led him to the bridge on those dark, grim nights when he’d stood at the precipice and stared down into the black swirling waters. He would stand there and think about how the twisting currents could make all of it go away and pull him down into the soothing cool blackness of nonexistence with just one, single step. The only thing that had stopped him was hope that he might somehow eventually stop feeling that way.
Jeanette had known. She’d known how he felt without him ever saying anything. She’d sensed it, and even though she’d felt sorry for him, even though she never said so, that was why she left him. She hadn’t been right for him, but god how it had hurt.
And now, this thing he was feeling with Liam… for Liam… about Liam… about himself…
It was too much.
He needed time to think and clear his head. A long walk might be just the thing. It’s not like he had any chance of sleeping now. It was late, after midnight, but that had never stopped him from taking one of his long, winding walks before. He knew it was dangerous to wander around by himself so late, even in the relatively safe small town where he lived, but he hardly cared. It would almost be a dare to the world. Do you worst, world! What more can you do to make me more miserable than I already am?
But if these recurring dreams were any indication, these new revelations of who he might be, it turned out there was a lot that could make it worse. Being conflicted and confused, not knowing his place in the world—that was one thing. But if he was the reincarnation of all those women, if Liam and he really were destined to be together, and simple biology held them back… how awful. He’d returned, just as he’d promised to always return, but somehow this time he’d come back wrong. Twisted. Broken. He knew it was ridiculous, but somehow it all felt like it was his fault. The thought pressed in on him, making it hard to breathe, and suddenly he knew he couldn’t spend a moment longer in his apartment.
Almost before he knew what he was doing Jamie was tugging up his jeans, pulling on his cracked leather jacket, and heading out his front door. He walked through the deserted streets of his neighborhood, hands shoved deep into his pockets and shoulders pulled tight against the chill as his head buzzed with a thousand uncomfortable thoughts, turning over the miserable implications of the situation he was dealing with. The streets were quiet tonight, the houses dark, and he padded down pavement lit intermittently by pools of cool, white light from the streetlamps above.
Everyone wants to know what their purpose in the world is, he reflected. And so many people spend their lives searching for it.
It seemed the worst kind of bitter irony that he was one of the lucky few that might discover not only a purpose, but a soulmate to go along with it, and to be blocked from his destiny in such a grotesque way.
As he drew further away from the residential area and walked down the road leading out to the backroad freeway, streetlights became more intermittent, darkening along with his mood, and soon his path was lit only by starlight. He wasn’t even paying attention to where he was going, allowing his feet to take him where they might while he mulled on his predicament, and when he realized that he was standing at the familiar, well-worn footpath through the trees that led up to his bridge, he couldn’t help but chuckle at himself.
“You really are a creature of habit, you poor sap,” he muttered. “Forget across lifetimes… you can’t even get away from the familiar in this one.”
He’d come all the way here. He may as well go up.
Before long he was at his usual place on the bridge, staring down at the chilly water once again, black as ever, black as his mood.
Revelations like the one he was discovering about himself always made things better in stories, but this slowly growing knowledge of who he was supposed to be just made everything worse. The wind tousled his hair, and he felt a little crazy, a little self-destructive. He climbed up on the precipice once again. Tonight he wasn’t so depressed that he wanted to throw himself off—it was more of a vague, sad, confusion—but he wanted to capture that feeling of danger. The feeling of standing on the edge. Knowing he could end it all, here and now, start over again in another life with another Liam, if he wanted to, gave him a small sense of control.
But what if this is the last time? It was a small, irritating voice in the back of his head. If you’ve always found each other, always had each other in every life before, what happens if you break the cycle? What if you can’t find a way to come together, and this is it? Your last shot.
That thought was almost depressing enough he did want to drop down below and sink into the current just to lift the uncomfortable, heavy weight off his chest. Even if he knew who he was, how was he supposed to know what to do?
“Jamie!”
His name, barked out in alarm and concern, breaking the stillness of the night, startled him enough that he almost did fall off. Jamie caught himself just in time and whirled to see Liam, rushing toward him with a look of horror and concern on his face, as handsome and put-together as the last time they’d met. In an instant he was at Jamie’s side, just below him, gripping his arm with an iron hand that was somehow still warm and reassuring. Liam pulled him down roughly, jerking him off the precipice, and Jamie landed on his feet with only a slight stumble and stared in surprise at the man who had appeared before him like a phantom.
“Are you fucking crazy?” Liam demanded. “Why would you do that?”
Jamie crossed his hands over his chest and looked away, sadness giving way to irritation at this rude interruption. He wasn’t sure that he was ready to face Liam. How could he possibly tell him what he suspected? What he knew?
“Why do you care? And besides, you don’t know me. I wasn’t going to do anything. I just like to climb up there and do that sometimes. It’s normal for me.”
“Yeah, real normal. Out here at 1AM, standing on the edge of a bridge, looking like you’re about to jump off? Jesus.”
“Well, what are you doing out here?”
“You know what I’m doing. Looking for…” He trailed off uncomfortably, and Jamie gave him a sharp look. Liam sank down onto the stone bench behind them. “Looking for her. My soulmate. Look, I just had a feeling, okay? A feeling like she’d be here.”
Jamie searched his face for a long moment, studying the awkward way that Liam fidgeted with his hands. A sneaking suspicion began to grow.
“And?”
“And what?”
“Was she? Is she?”
Another long silence stretched between them before Jamie spoke again, and this time his tone was accusing.
“I can’t believe it. You knew, didn’t you? As soon as you met me, you knew. All this nonsense about helping you find your soulmate, your open invitation to coffee… telling me all this personal stuff about you and your beliefs. God, I thought it was weird. Guys don’t do that. People don’t just open up that easily. You knew right away, even if I didn’t know it yet.”
Liam made no reply, but looked even more miserable. Jamie sat beside him and put a hand on his knee. Liam didn’t shrink away.
“Would you even have believed me, then? Before the dreams started?” The words were laced with pain and longing when they finally came out of Liam’s lips. “I hoped that I was wrong. I wanted to be wrong about you. But of course I knew. As soon as we started talking, as soon as our hands touched. You felt that spark of familiarity too. I saw it. I saw it and knew right away, just as I knew when we met in a thousand other lives. But I wanted so badly to be mistaken. That’s why I asked you to coffee. I needed time to talk to you more. Time to feel you out. T
ime to think.”
“And?” Jamie demanded crossly.
Liam sighed. “And every word out of your mouth, every gesture confirmed it. You’re her. I can see her in you even now.”
White hot fury rolled across Jamie. “You lied to me. Why would you enlist my help? Why give me your phone number? Why draw me into any of this if you didn’t know how to deal with me?”
“Because you asked me for it!” Liam exploded with such emotion that Jamie drew his hand back and flinched away. “Do you know what it was like to spend so long searching for the woman of my dreams and then to finally find her, only to realize she’s a man? I didn’t do this to you, Jamie. The dreams would have started with or without me. Wait awhile, and you’ll see. You’ll remember more, just like I did. They get more and more detailed as you get older, and more of your previous lives will come back to you. The dreams and memories come no matter when we find each other, no matter what we do. I couldn’t help you, I couldn’t stop them, and I didn’t know what to do! I never expected you to be a man this time. It’s never happened like that before. So my head was a jumble. It’s still a jumble. I’m a mess. I don’t know what to do. But… you are you. It’s plain as day to me. And I can’t help but love you. You’re absolutely you.”