Knowing His Secret (5 page)

The rehearsal concluded and everyone seemed in a hurry to get out of the theater. There was a
melancholy pall in the air. Act 3 was the dark conclusion to a dark drama, but the cast's mood was not usually so. As I cleared the mess in the green room I tried to sort out the mystery of the night. Clearly, Roger had something to do with Tristan's mood. I had been expecting flirtation culminating in seduction. Instead, I was feeling frustrated and confused.

Tristan was lounging on a 'bed' that was stuck in front of some scenery flats when I came out. The house lights were still on, but Tom had killed the stage lights so the low backstage lighting was the only illumination. It would have been easy to miss him in the shadows,
but again I felt him before I saw him.

"Come join me in bed." He patted the wooden platform beside him. His torso was against the headboard and the foreshortened bed wasn't long enough for his legs to stretch out. His knees stuck up at an angle.

I went over and sat on the edge of the bed, facing him. He looked tired. There were dark circles under his eyes and they seemed to sparkle a little less than usual. He surprised me by pulling me toward him and holding me against his chest. I could feel him breathing against my hair. He stroked my bare back gently. I sighed a small sigh as my flesh yielded to his touch.

His heart beat under my cheek and the smell of his skin seeped through his shirt. There was so much I wanted to ask him, but I couldn't bring myself to break the spell of that moment. When he lifted my face to his the kiss was all I wanted. Questions could wait.

It was as if he wanted to kiss the world away. His mouth was eager against me, searching mine with his tongue. He took my lower lip between his teeth and nibbled in quick, hot bites. When my tongue sought his, he sucked it into his mouth hungrily.

He trailed warm wet kisses down my neck as his hands went around to my bare back. He had no trouble releasing the bottom of my halter top and slipping it off over my head.
My nipples were screaming for his touch. It seemed to me that the purpose of their puckered reach was to let him find them quicker.

"So perfectly beautiful," he murmured at the sight of my bare breasts. Taking them both into his hands he leaned down to suck at my straining nipples. The touch of his mouth on them sent wave after wave of electric arousal to my
pussy. He twisted them both between his fingers as his mouth returned to conquer my lips yet again.

I wanted to feel the hard shape of his cock again. I had only
had the briefest contact and now I wanted more. So. Much. More. He was rigid under his khakis. I stroked the thick shaft that strained under the fabric and the sound he made at my touch was the growl of pursuit. He pushed against my hand welcoming me to free him and bare his skin to mine.

Tristan's fingers were inside me again. He pushed aside the tiny triangle
of silk that covered my sex and my body drenched his hand with the liquid of my lust. I rocked against his fingers as he sought the spot that would free me to abandon. His thumb worked magic on my clit, soft and hard, slow and fast, directed by the turn of my hips against his seeking touch.

I unbuckled his belt and wrestled t
he taut zipper of his fly down. As I reached under the elastic of his boxers, I felt him hit the elusive place inside me that I thought only I knew existed. Even as my hand reached to release him, I could feel myself edging closer to a climax. I could only hold onto him as my pleasure built and I felt the quickening rhythm of orgasm begin to lap at my edges.

"You're so wet, so supple. God, what a woman you are."

I began to grind harder against him as a climax started to draw around me. His fingers were having an effect on me that I had never experienced through a man's touch.

"It's so good. Oh, so good."

"That's right. That's the way…" he encouraged me to abandon myself to him.

I spread my legs farther apart, propping the outer one against a crate beside the wooden bed.

I whimpered and tried to give some attention to the hot cock I was holding in my hand."Later, sweet Raina. I'll still be here. Just let go."

I was crying out little grunts of pleasure every time he stroked inside me. My clit began to demand more. Tristan could feel me rolling against him, helping him touch me in exactly the right way.

"Beautiful. So intense, so fine.
Give to me
, Raina, give me
everything
in you."

Gasps, growls
and groans were the only sounds I could offer. Words were lost to me.

"Let me have it, Raina.
Lose yourself." Tristan coaxed me, cheered me, urged me to cross the line to utter and selfish need.

I felt a sudden gush of fluid between my legs. I knew what it was, but
it took me by surprise anyway. This was the first time for us. I had a moment of doubt and embarrassment that Tristan crushed with his hand and his words.

"
Do it for me. Oh yeah, oh just come hard for me, baby."

The rare and pure sensation demanded that I give myself over to it
. The last niggling bit of inhibition vanished when I closed my eyes tight and let my body react in a way it had only done once or twice in the privacy of masturbation. The orgasm rolled over me like surf and washed away all doubt. My intense contractions coupled with great bursts of warm fluid and spasms that went all the way to my womb. I curled over myself in coiled rapture and sobbed out a cry of sheer of utter ecstasy. I collapsed against his chest and gulped for air as the final aftershocks subsided.

I still held his erection in my hand. I pushed the band of his shorts further down to expose him fully. The gods of physical blessings had not over
looked this part of his anatomy either. He was long and thick and his shaft sprouted from a neat nest of golden brown curls. I arranged myself closer to his groin and nuzzled my face there. The man-scent of his arousal filled my nostrils when I pressed my nose deep into his hair. He moaned my name and grasped my hair in one of his hands.

I worked the swollen head
of his cock with my tongue while I held the base of his shaft with one hand. My lips felt his erection swell even further as I wrapped them around his glans. Although it seemed impossible, he pulsed to an even harder state. I swirled around the crown and explored the slit on the head with the tip of my tongue. With the head just inside my mouth I sucked, moving it in and out of my mouth with an audible pop.

Tristan
growled with pleasure. He laced his hands through my hair and pulled it away from my face so he could see me work on him. I lubricated the length of him, licking up and down until I had saturated it entirely. Then I looked up at him and let him watch me lick my palm.

"Good God,
Raina, you're going to make me come hard."

"
Just as you did to me…"

I went back to work on him, my hand slick against his hard, hot flesh. I couldn't possibly fit his considerable length inside my mouth. I had never learned the art of 'deep throating'. This was the first time I'd ever wished I had.

I worked my hand in tandem with my mouth, trying to give him the maximum sensation I could. My fingers curled around his shaft and I moved it with a twisting motion. As I drew back on him I twirled my tongue around the ridge of the head and pursed my lips tightly as I moved toward the end.

My own body was responding to the lust in the guttural sounds of pleasure that he made in rhythm with my strokes. I put my other hand between his legs and rolled his balls inside the furry sack that was drawn tight against his body waiting for its role in the drama of his passion.

He watched me. He watched with eyes that burned. For me. I felt my pussy tighten and my nipples stiffen. I began to add my noises to his. I tasted the first salty sweet drop at his opening and quickened my pace.

"Harder…squeeze harder,"
Tristan rasped roughly.

It was a command I gladly obeyed. I tightened my grip on him. He put his hands on both sides of my face and began to thrust into my mouth, his fingers splayed through my hair and gripping tight. I let him take control even as he was losing it.

He was fucking my face at his pace now, furiously moving my mouth against him with his hips raised and his head thrown against the hard board of the make believe bed.

He warned me he was about to come and made a move to take himself out of my mouth. I took him as deeply as I could and gave him permission with the same kind of noises he had made when his own mouth was on me. It was unmistakable. I wanted to taste him. I wanted that intimacy and he knew it.

That knowledge pushed him over the edge. He stilled a moment and then, with a huge grunt of ecstasy he thrust once, twice, three times into the back of my throat. I felt the semen spurt into me and swallowed as he emptied himself. Each time he pulsed a jet out, he made the same noise. It was the unmistakable sound of rapture.

It gave me great joy
to know that I had pleased him as completely as he had pleased me. The response of his body to my touch-- my worship of his most intimate part-- was pure and real. Every move and every sound he made was an echo of his desire.

My
head rested against his abdomen as his breathing returned to something close to normal. I petted his wet cock and watched it slowly, very slowly, begin to relax and looked up at him. He lifted my chin with one finger, drew me up to his mouth and gave me a deep and grateful kiss.

I tucked my body into the side of his, cramped on the little platform. My head was on his shoulder and his chin half rested on the top of my head. We stayed that way for a while. I felt him twitch, first in his leg and then the arm he had around me. I knew he had fallen asleep. Looking at him on that
silly pretend bed made him seem vulnerable. The bed was all painted up in garish colors from some long ago children's play and he was scrunched up in it like some gangly boy.

I was amazed he could sleep like that until I realized that he had been in Hong Kong less than 48 hours ago. He was running on almost no sleep and his body clock had to be completely confused.
Plus, I'd just drained him dry.

"Tristan, you should wake up." I gently moved my hand against his chest.
"We need to get you home, and into a real bed."

Tristan tucked his now
utterly relaxed cock back into his shorts and zipped his fly. "Sorry to fall asleep on you." He kissed my lightly before he swung his legs over the other side of the bed and stretched out with a couple of groans. "You pulled the last of my energy out of me, I'm afraid."

"You've had a long couple of days."

"You can't even imagine. I do need a solid night's sleep, though--it's been a while."

"Let me drive you home." I was concerned about him falling asleep at the wheel. "You can fetch your car tomorrow."

"No, I'll be fine, really."

When we got to the parking lot, I offered once again to take him home, but he firmly refused.

"Can you give me a ring when you get home…just so I know you're home safe?"

Tristan gave me a very strange look when I asked him that. "Raina, I
said
I'll be fine. Can we just leave it at that?"

"Uh…sure. Well, good night then." I turned to go to my car, but he stopped me.

"Thank you for tonight. It was wonderful." He kissed me gently on the forehead like a child, which seemed yet another odd thing considering what we had just been up to in the wings. Still, it was far better than the last parting and I decided to accept it for what it was--a spent man with nothing on his mind but a good night's rest.

Five

Sleep didn't come easily for me that night. It took a while for the glow of what our bodies had done to one another to wear off. When it did, I was left with quite a bit of confusion.

I kept running the week through my head and not much of it made sense. Okay, I could accept that a crisis of epic proportions halfway around the world could cause a temporary lapse in manners
--what Tristan called "not being good at some things". And I could chalk up the gruffness on stage to an ego that hated to be corrected.

And, I suppose there could be legitimate reasons for a man with a great deal of mon
ey to have a personal bodyguard to travel with.

There were still two things I couldn't reconcile. First, why did that Roger character have such a chilling effect on
not just Tristan, but the entire cast? Second, what the hell did Tristan King see in me?

Only Tristan could answer the last question, but I was sure that any one of the other cast members could shed some light on the first.

When I woke up Saturday morning, I was surprised to see that it was nearly ten a.m. I had slept poorly, waking several times from various disturbing dreams featuring painted stage beds, Chinese bodyguards and pretty men with sad faces.

The apartment was empty because Jenn had to man the virtual Tanglewood box office and the phones on Saturdays. Sunday was the only off day we shared and as the summer drew closer to its conclusion, she and I tried to make the most of each day we had left together.