TouchStone for giving (The Story of Us Trilogy) (16 page)

BOOK: TouchStone for giving (The Story of Us Trilogy)
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I’ve missed touching you like this. I’m sliding my fingers into you, can you feel me?”

I lick my lips and pull him deeper inside, feeling the warmth of his fingers.

“Breathe into it. That’s it. You know what to wait for …”

I’m swept away by the music and by his feather-light kisses on my neck. “The spark …” I gasp

breathlessly.

“Yes. I can feel you.” His thumb finds my clitoris and starts to move in small circles over the tiny

sensitive bud, but there’s something different in the way it feels.

I stare at him wide eyed, panicking. “I can’t …” I start to splash around in the water, losing focus,

confidence; losing myself. “What’s wrong with me?”

He leans over and wraps his arms around my neck, pulling me to him. “Nothing’s wrong with you

baby, you’re still getting over a terrible ordeal. You were sedated, remember?”

“But I want us to get back to how we were. I want this.” Why do I feel so emotional? Why am I

sobbing?

He’s brushing back my hair. “I know, but these things take time. We’ll get through it.”

Forgetting my injuries, I hold on to him tightly, pulling away only to kiss him passionately,

smothering him. My wet hands are turning his hair into single strands of black liquorice.

“Be careful Beth, don’t hurt yourself.”

I kiss away his words. “Don’t you want me? Now I’ve been marked and soiled? You don’t want to

make love to me, do you?” Even though tears are blurring my vision, I can still see his horror.

“Christ! No, it’s not that. You’re perfect; before, now, always.”

“Then make love to me … please.” I can barely get the words out; my lips are trembling and I feel

as if my heart is breaking. Only now the impact of what has happened hits me head on, bringing with

it the realisation I might have had my life with this wonderful man snatched away. It’s too much for

me to bear.

Without a second thought, he opens a drawer beneath the mirror and grabs a condom. Whilst I

watch on unable to prevent my body from rippling beneath the water, he hurriedly slides it down the

length of his semi-erect cock with both hands, fixing it tightly at the base. In a single splash he’s

standing knee high in the bubbles, lifting me; he has his hands around my waist and I’m resting my

hands on the sides of the bath. He sits down with me kneeling around him.

Frantically, I’m searching for his mouth with mine, fisting his hair. “That bastard stole almost

seven years of my life, don’t let him take this from us.” My back aches and my feet are tingling with

the pressure I’m exerting on my toes but I pay them no regard. All my attention is focused on this

immaculate man beneath me and his hard erection pressing into my moist flesh.

“Get onto me Beth, don’t ride me. I’ll do all the work.”

I offer an appreciative smile and wait for the fire to build and burn me from the inside, incinerating

all my fears. I feel his strong hands on my hips; he’s lifting me and manoeuvring me into position

slowly, gently. I feel the prod of his rigid cock against me.

“Beth.” I look into his eyes. “You remember the safe word, right?”

“Yes.”

“If it gets too much …”

I strain against his hands and begin to lower myself. His grip eases and he watches as I descend into

the bubbles, causing a clear swell of water to circle around us.

“Don’t rush it. I know what I’m doing.”

He does. I tip back my head and hold onto the sides of the bath for support, but really it’s him I

need to touch. I rest my hands on his shoulders and focus on his face as he picks up speed, clenching

his thighs, thrusting into me. He rolls his hips to fill me, creating a tidal wave, drenching the floor and

… there it is, that ecstatic burn.

I call out, “Yes!”

“Come on baby. Come back to me.”

“Yes.”

“That’s it …” Still thrusting and stretching me, he slips a hand around the back of my neck and

takes hold of me forcefully, fixing me in place. He draws me to his mouth and nuzzles my right breast

and then my left, licking, sucking hungrily until my nipples are hard and swollen. With each pull, I

call out as my flesh burns and a blazing current radiates through my body. With my back arched and

my head tipped back, he moves his hand from my hip to below the waterline; beneath the waves his

thumb finds my clitoris. I’m so stimulated the slightest amount of pressure causes me to spasm and

tighten around him. He fixes his eyes on mine and I see a galaxy of emotion in those saintly, indigo

spheres. It’s my undoing. I fall apart; crash and burn around him. I hear myself calling out and it’s

more of a thankful cry than a moan.

Two more hard, penetrating thrusts and he detonates inside me with a rasping, primitive groan that

echoes around the bathroom, resonating off the marble surfaces.

“Fuck yeah!”

Panting, we descend into the bubbles. Instinctively, I fall onto him and fling my arms around his

neck. Forgetting my injury, he wraps his arms around my back only to pull away quickly when I call

out. Instead he takes hold of my upper arms and pushes me backwards to face him. Was there ever a

more self-satisfied looking man?

“My little genie has come back to me.”

I feel shy and look away.

“Welcome back.” He kisses me hard, fisting my hair, savouring the satisfying consummation of our

separation before easing out of me. “I’ll never let him take anything from us again. You know that,

right?”

“Yes,” I whimper, needing to believe his declaration.

His grasp slackens. “Let’s get you towelled and into bed. I think we’ve both had enough excitement

for today.”

He steps out of the bath, which by now is barely half full as most of the water is lapping around the

bathroom floor. I lean over the side of the bath, inspecting the damage.

“You’ve made a terrible mess.” I look up to him, only to be met with a bemused expression.

“Someone will have to clear that up.”

“And I wonder who that’ll be?” he asks, knowing perfectly well who. “Here, be careful not to slip.”

He reaches over to lift me out of the bath. The enormous bath robe feels soft and fluffy against my

skin and I tip-toe cautiously into the bedroom.

“Sit on the bed.” I look up to him with loving eyes. “If I’d known you were going to be this much

trouble I’d have hired a nurse,” he teases, towelling my hair.

I reach up and play with the tie on his bathrobe, content to listen to his light-hearted banter while he

fluffs up my hair.

“Wait there while I get the hair dryer and your nightdress.”

I wait patiently, listening to him, “What a fucking mess … where the hell’s all this water come

from?”

When he returns I dare not look up, instead I keep my eyes on the floor while he finger dries my

hair. He’s lavishing so much attention on me.

“There. That’s you done. Stand up carefully.” Still averting my eyes, I stand while he removes my

bathrobe and slips my nightgown over my head and arms. Noticing my avoidance, he tips up my chin.

“I was only teasing about the nurse.”

I smile broadly. “I know.” I take his face in my palms and kiss him softly. “Dry your hair, or you’ll

catch a chill.”

I climb into bed, checking the time: it’s 10.30 p.m.

Where did the day go?

I begin to doze, listening to him curse and swear his way through his bathroom chores. It’s a

strange and unusual lullaby but enough to send me into a deep, restorative sleep with a smile on my

face.

For some reason, when Dan’s car pulls up outside Taylor and Main Estate Agents, Elise looks left

and right down the street before opening the passenger door and climbing in. Her preoccupation with

not being seen, with him, does not go unnoticed.

“You’re very prompt,” she announces. “Are you always this reliable?”

Dan recognises a loaded question when he hears it. “Yeah. Army training, you know. Be on time;

never leave a man behind and all that shit.”

“I hadn’t pictured you as an army man.” She is nonchalantly clicking in her seat belt and

straightening her blouse.

Why the fuck not?

“Did you see any active service?”

What is this? Is she taking fucking notes?

“Some. I was over in Iraq for three years.” He glances over at her but is too busy watching the flow

of rush hour traffic to clock her expression.

“Did you shoot anyone?”

He feels her eyes tunnelling into his cheek. “What do you think?”

“I think you did.” She smiles roguishly.

“Then you’d be right.” He changes gear and accelerates away from the city centre onto a dual

carriageway, heading towards Pinner. At the roundabout he takes the first turn-off and then a left onto

the bridge, ending up in Wealdstone five minutes later.

“Where are we going?” she asks, appearing concerned about the possibility of eating something

she may not like.

“I’ll know it when we get there,” he mumbles, scanning the row of shops for something that looks

vaguely decent. “Do you like spicy food?”

“I can take it or leave it.”

“This place looks okay. I’ll park up.” He pulls into the layby a hundred yards past The Meeting

Palace on the High Street and turns to face her. “We can have a drink or get something to eat, it’s up

to you.”

“Fine.”

They leave the comfort of the car and make their way to the restaurant, neither of them wanting to

say what and who is on their mind. Thinking about Ayden Stone and Elizabeth Parker has become an

exhausting element of every hour of every day; plotting their demise is only the start of what promises

to be the first wave of a far-reaching and prolonged attack.

The restaurant is surprisingly spacious and the ambience is friendly and decidedly Asian; there are

elephants carved out of dark wood and coconut matting has been fixed across the ceiling and walls.

Dan scans the bar area, feeling a little uncomfortable. It’s not the kind of place he would visit as a rule

and certainly not on a Monday night.

They’re sat at a table across from each other separate from the restaurant, waiting for a table to

become available. Elise leaves to visit the ladies and Dan orders her usual. He takes a newspaper off

the bar and flicks through; it’s something he hasn’t done for a while and it feels good to be doing it for

pleasure and not as part of the night shift. To his surprise, on page four there’s a photo of Stone and

his fiancée. The headline reads, ‘
Teacher Wins Heart of Stone,’
and it makes him smile at the prospect

of showing it to Elise. He holds onto the thought. ‘She’ll burst a blood vessel when she sees this.’

Purposely, he leaves the page open on the table, folds his arms and waits for the colour to drain from

her face the minute she sits down.

She settles herself onto the cushioned chair. “Thanks for the drink. I need it. I’ve had a shitty day.”

She throws her blonde hair over her shoulders and takes a long, refreshing slug of lager.

“Well, I hate to say it but your day just got a whole lot shittier. Take a look.” Feeling a twinge of

sadistic pleasure, he turns the newspaper round so she can see the article clearly. To his

disappointment, she doesn’t react.

“I’ve already seen the happy couple. I glanced at the newspaper during my lunch hour and just

seeing them together put me off my sandwich.” She folds the newspaper over and discards it. “Don’t

look so disappointed Dan. I’m over the initial shock now. I’m ready to move onto plan B.”

Dan smiles, surprised by her frankness. “Plan B. What happened to A?”

“A’s still on-going but now it’s time to up the ante.”

He nods, unsure of exactly what she’s saying but prepared to take the time to find out. “What have

you in mind?”

She turns to face him square-on. “Depends …”

“On what?”

“You. What you’re prepared to do to get Queen Elizabeth back.”

He chuckles, knowing she is closer to the mark than she could possibly know.

“How long have you been looking for her?” She gives him a knowing look.

“I’ve not been looking for her. What we had was a long time ago …” He’s finding it difficult to lie.

It’s as if she is reading is thoughts.

“Yeah! Right! Six years of thinking about your little bitch.”

He’s offended by her tone. “Hey, less of the bitch. You were spot on with the Queen thing, although

she’s more like a Princess.” It feels good to say the word out loud to someone other than himself.

“That precious, is she?”

“She is to me.” He stops dead, realising Elise has him on the ropes; she’s been sizing him up since

day one and now she has him boxed into a corner.

“I thought so, and that’s okay by me, but you know what my Mr. Stone will be doing to her don’t

you?”

“I think it’s best I don’t think about that Elise.”

“I think it’s about time you did. It might get you in the mood for another tousle.” She stops only to

draw breath and to throw back a couple of gulps of the golden liquid which, much to Dan’s

discomfort, appears to be giving her an alarming amount of gumption. “He has quite a reputation with

the ladies …”

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