I am working with a wonderful editor Amy Scott and the book is now in development mode. I will continue to blog Eventide as ‘short stories’ to give you a flavor of what’s to come. Eventide was originally published on Storytweetblog.com.
I remember the first moment we caught each other’s eye. It was about two o’clock in the afternoon, end of August. The sun was streaming into the elegant but shabby Georgian drawing room bouncing off the glossy pine floor one story high from the main hallway. I was wearing a simple sheer body hugging silk Rick Owens dress under which I only wore my knickers. My legs bare bronzed from the Ibiza sun absorbed during the summer holidays. I glanced out the tall window onto the street as we waited for the last person to arrive for the meeting, the public relations advisor. I watched life pass by below, as the sun cast its amber haze across the buildings. Then suddenly he came into my vision, and he caught my stare. He was tall, broad, elegantly dressed in a grey pinstripe suit and bright pink tie, distinguished by a receding line of silver hair. He was approaching the house. He stopped and looked up, caught my eye. He paused for a moment and then he smiled at me. Not a big haughty smile but a gentle boyish smile that would wrap the most discerning around his little finger. Slightly disconcerted that he caught my gaze I did no react. I moved back into the room over to the antique chest of drawers placed against the wall on which tea, coffee, refreshments were laid out for the meeting. My back was to him as he entered the room. I could hear his stride. He advanced towards the Candidate patting him on the shoulder, attracting his attention. I turned to the candidate as he greeted him.
“This my dear is Chris Kennedy. My PR guru,” the candidate boomed, then gave him a hug.
We were at this Victorian house at the behest of the Candidate, who was putting a presidential campaign team together. It included a lawyer, strategist, election agent, personal assistant, road manager, administrator and Chris the troubleshooter. I was there in my capacity as a fundraiser.
“So you are the infamous PR guy who has kept us waiting today?” I mused
I reached out my hand to him but instead of taking it he leaned in and kissed me on the cheek whispering in my ear,
“You are wearing no bra.”
For that moment, he intensely held me in his eyes a beautiful soft hazel blue.
“Ah, but I am wearing underpants. Sorry about that.” I retorted bemused.
He placed his firm, but delicate hand behind my neck drawing me into him,
“When I looked up, I caught your silhouette in the window I could see through your dress, wow your sexy.”
My skin tingled as the strength of his grip capturing my gaze.
Slowly his hand uncurled from around my neck,
“So you are the fundraiser. We will need to work closely together if we are to have a successful campaign. I need the money to run the campaign, and you need the good PR to raise it.”
The background chattering grabbed our attention to the rest of the group now taking their seats on two large cozy brown leather sofas facing each other. Chris poured me a cup of coffee and handed it to me. I took a sip of the lukewarm coffee and cupping the china mug in my hands I went over and sunk into the soft leather next to the election agent. In those short few minutes that we engaged, Chris had got my attention. He had flair and panache mixed with a brashness that caught my imagination. He pulled over a big chair positioned against the wall and placed at the top to the meeting. He was taking control affirming his place in the campaign ranking.
I watched him warily as he powered the meeting, dismissing with absolute confidence any interaction he did not wish to entertain. A high forehead and a slightly aquiline nose gave him a strong look, softened by his frequent and gentle smile. I reckoned he was late forties.
The Candidate allowed the environment to grow in which Chris could intimidate and insist on control of the strategy, and the means of building that plan. He allowed Chris to become progressively more outrageous in his comments.
“You can Fuck off and keep your mouth shut.”
He bellowed at the election agent when he gave an alternative view on a subject point. I was intrigued by his obstinate attitude and behavior. The election agent was a courteous, if a little cocky, gentle natured man who was a close confidant of the Candidate. He appeared ill at ease with Chris’s control of the meeting. I noticed that Chris watched me every time I took a sip of coffee. Amused and in devilment I intermittently held the mug to my lips taking long sips, then deliberately slowly lick my lips, subtly teasing him, gazing back at him. Chris and I were from the moment we set sight of each other in a different zone from the others in that room. It happened to us both at the same time, in the same room. We were witnesses together to a virulent attraction, about to ride the rollercoaster of our crusade.
The election agent dropped me home at about five pm after the meeting. He was very disturbed by Chris’s behavior.
“I think you need to talk to the Candidate about it, not me.” I suggested when he broached the subject. I was reluctant to enter into any discussion about Chris’s manner at the meeting.
I had just thrown off my shoes poured myself a glass of Chablis when the mobile rang. One of my hangovers from my involvement with the fashion business was the oversized tote into which I had a habit of throwing everything I thought I needed. I searched around for the mobile but could not locate it. Whoever was calling was very persistent. Frustrated I turned the bag over and dumped everything on the couch. My mobile came tumbling out. I grabbed it and answered. It was Chris.
“Would you like to meet me for a drink?” he asked
“Thanks but no I am tired and settled in now.”
“Are you sure. You might enjoy it.”
“I am sure.” I chuckled.
Before the conversation ended Chris advised me that he was planning the first team meeting for the next day, and he would let me know the details.
As I put my mobile away, I wondered how he had my number. Alone in the large three story Georgian house except with my dog, I wandered around absorbing the magnitude of the place and once again questioning the logic as to why I was living here. The dog Jasper barked drawing me away from my thoughts; I immediately understood he wanted to go out. I quickly put on his collar, slipped on my shoes and took him for a run in the little park next to the house.
It was chilly, so we did not stay out long. I arrived back, made my way up to the bed with the bottle of Chablis to cozy up and watch tv in bed with Jasper.
The next day………..
I woke to a ringing mobile. It rang a number of times before I groggily realized it was mine. I reached out picked it up just as it went silent. My hand continued dangling the phone as I lay in bed staring at the ceiling. Suddenly it rang and I checked caller id it was Chris. It quit ringing. Within a minute it rang again, and I finally answered, my voice unsteady,
“Hello,” his voice boomed
“Yes of course. Now get up lazy bones. We are meeting in an hour.”
“We are? What time is it?” I replied tiredly.
“It’s seven am and yes. We are having breakfast at eight and then following up with a meeting I arranged which will be helpful to your fundraising.”
“Do you always plan stuff without asking?”
“Just with you babe. See you in Wallace’s Taverna in the Italian quarter at eight clock. I look forward to it.”
It had been a long day of acrimonious campaign meetings culminating with Chris’s animosity for the election agent reaching a crescendo with,
“I will fuck you out the window if you don’t shut up.”
As the day grew more and more tense so did the sexual tension between Chris and me, it was palpable it bounced off us both.
“You have been driving me crazy all day long.” he exclaimed putting his arm through mine.
“Oh, so it’s my fault you were like a bull all day?” I replied laughingly.
“ You are incredibly sexy. I can’t wait to kiss you.”
“You are presumptuous.” I retorted jovially.
The meetings over, the day’s butchering completed, time was now ours. We moved towards the back of the long car park where Paul had parked in one of the three darkened alcoves, so the jeep was not visible to the rest of the car park.
We hesitated at his car.
“My car is just over there.” I pointed to it just on the other side of his in a line of parked cars.
“Yes. I love it. The engine is under the driver’s seat so that I can feel the roar of the engine on my bum. Love that roar.” I giggled.
Chris’s eyes darkened, his lids lowering slightly as his gaze dipped to my mouth.
“You are amazing.”
I bent my head, bringing my lips close to his. “What now?”
I said tantalizingly.
He stared at me for a few moments. I watched his jaw as it tensed then without warning like a maverick, he pushed me up against the car, pulling my bag out of my hand, dropping it at my feet. He locked my arms over my head. I was his prisoner. I closed my eyes and felt his breath on mine as his lips devoured mine. He moved his hips forward, I felt his hard cock against my groin, and I gyrated into him, moaning longing to feel him inside me.
Our tongues locked together as his hand moved along my body. I that instant I wanted him so badly. I craved his touch. I groaned as he unlocked his grip and his hands moved under my blouse under the lacy fabric of my bra and caressed my breasts. I writhed under his fingers as they skillfully worked my nipple, pulling and twisting. Suddenly we could hear activity, so we stood very still, our bodies tight against each other the eroticism of the moment heightened.
Frozen in that spot Chris in silence inched his hand along my thigh and brushed against my underwear grabbing the g string pulling it tight into my clit. I jolted upright as he rubbed me harder and harder applying pressure on my clit. My head fell back. I dug my nails into his body. Slowly his finger entered me then he started slipping it inside at an agonizing pace. I let out a muffled groan. Chris grabbed my hand placing it over my mouth suffocating any sound. I ground my hips into his palm, imploring for more as he pulled his finger out and pulled back.
“Don’t stop.” I breathed I reached down in a frenzy unbuttoning his pants, shoved my hand down and grabbed his huge hard-on. I ran my hand up and down his rigid shaft. His breathing quickened. He had a huge cock, I angled my clit into him rubbing myself up against this cock.
“Oh yes.” he moaned
He thrust two fingers back in hard and deep. I grabbed his hair in rapture. His strong palm stroked my clit as he worked his fingers in and out, pulling on the g string burning into my clit. Stifled moans fell from my lips, my body systematically shuddered and twitched as organisms blasted my body. I bit into my hand to stop from screaming as the ripples of pleasure cascaded through me. I gulped for air, trying to catch my breath as the aftershocks of my clit squeezed his finger.
“Oh God Chris” I breathed
“Shhh.” He put his finger up to my mouth. I sucked and ran my tongue around his finger mumbling,
“I have never felt this intensity before.”
“This is just the beginning.” he whispered planting gentle kisses on my face,
“Let me show you how beautiful you are Aliki to make love to you as you deserve.”
I nodded helplessly, wild for his touch, my clit aching for him, held within the aroma of the musk and heat of his body.
“You are going nowhere. I am going to book a suite in the hotel, and I am going to love you till it hurts till you can’t breath anymore. I want to come inside you.”
My legs buckled with the surge of desire.
“Yes oh, yes,” I begged.
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Eventide a factual fiction thriller; a dark psychological, erotic thriller, profoundly unveiling the serrated edges of the mind.