| Subject: The Ubiquitous Mr. Lovegrove Part Seven |
Author:
Schnee
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Date Posted: 14:40:24 03/03/01 Sat
In reply to:
Schnee
's message, "The Ubiquitous Mr. Lovegrove" on 14:10:08 03/03/01 Sat
I feel secure, wrapped in his warmth, his body hugging my curves. I hear his steady breathing as I lay awake, while he sleeps. Carefully, I slide from his arms. I pause as I hear his breathing shift. He reaches for me, finding my pillow instead. But his eyes remain shut.
I watch him anxiously for what seems like an eternity. I can’t help but admire the beauty of his muscled arms and shoulders that held me with fervor earlier in the night. Just remembering it has me craving his touch again. With my shivering, I realize the coolness of the room against my warm skin. Trying not to make much noise, I slip on my clothes. After looking back one more time, I resign myself to leave, satisfied that Michael has not awaken.
I creep past the closed door of the next bedroom, hearing only silence. Barefoot, I tiptoe up the steps. The sky is coolly lit, with the sun just starting to peak over the horizon. Sea gulls fly above, squawking loudly. I stop to look behind me. Seeing not another soul, I put my paranoia aside.
Moving to the pilothouse, I peer inside the windows, finding it empty as I had hoped. The crew had retired for the night. But I need to be quick, for they could be rising at any time. Grasping the door handle, I make my entry. I crouch down in order to stay out of sight. Lifting the CB receiver, I move to disassemble it. Turning each of the screws, I finally open the receiver. Placing the tiny screwdriver between my lips, I use my both my hands to carefully insert the listening device. This will provide audio surveillance of the pilothouse as well as any radio communication. Jones had not specifically instructed this, but I’m just trying to think ahead for possible scenarios. As long as it is undetected, it can’t hurt.
My heart flutters as I hear a noise. Uncertain whether I’m about to be detected, I hurriedly reassemble the receiver. Satisfied that the receiver shows no signs of tampering, I slip the screwdriver back into my pocket before exiting the pilothouse. I try to seem casual as I return on deck, peering out toward the coastline. At first, I hear nothing more, lulling me into a sense of security.
But then I hear footsteps behind me. I turn to see a pair eyes staring intently at me.
~~~~~
“Good Morning. I’m surprised to see you awake so early. And alone.” Richard remarks. Dressed simply in an old shirt loose-fitting shorts and loafers, his hair is mussed and his face shows stubble. I sense he’s not been awake long. But I’m unsure if he’s aware of my morning activities.
“Well, I woke up and couldn’t fall back to sleep. Since Michael was sleeping soundly, I figured there was no sense in waking him. So I thought I’d take in the sunrise. It does look like we’re going to have another splendid day.” I reply, hoping that my explanation sounds natural, but fearing it sounds as stupid as it felt saying it.
“Yes, there’s rarely a rainy day in this part of the world. That’s why I come here so often. “
“It is so beautiful here. One can easily escape the everyday problems of the real world.” I muse leaning my hands against the handrail as the he wind blows my hair back
“And what part of the real world are you trying to escape? Your husband perhaps?” Richard moves in closer beside me, looking directly at me.
“I dunno. Perhaps the constraints of everyday life. The ever-present responsibilities.” I mutter as I feel Richard’s thigh rubbing against mine.
“Is that what Michael does? Helps you to forget those constraints? Reminds you of the deeper pleasures in life.” Richard pries, putting emphasis on the words ‘deeper pleasures.’
My cheeks flush as I think of Michael’s suspicion that we were being watched. I really need to check that mirror. The thought of this man taking pleasure in watching our intimacy has me feeling violated.
My body tenses as I feel Richard’s cool hand touching the small of my back. Sensing Richard’s gaze, I feel naked with only a thin shirt covering my erect nipples. I would have dressed more thoroughly had I known. Instead, his smile only increases my discomfort.
“Desiree is still sleeping, too. She’ll probably be nursing a good hangover this morning. So I guess that just leaves the two of us.” His hand slides down to fondle my buttocks. I suppress the urge to teach him how to treat a lady, and instead I move from his touch.
“I don’t think that would be a good idea.” I reply inferring to his intentions.
“I guess Michael could take it the wrong way. Get jealous. I understand. But what if he weren’t here?” Richard responds, not easily put off. His hand strokes my face mimicking Michael. Yet, the feeling is all wrong. His hands feel cold, almost clammy. Instead of leaning into his touch I feel repulsion. I’m still stuck on what Richard means by his ‘what if’.
“But he is here.”
“He doesn’t have to know. We could be discreet. Or maybe he’s like me. Enjoys watching. Though I must admit watching isn’t as satisfying as performing,” he replies eyeing me like a sumptuous dessert.
I shake my head mouthing the word ‘no’. Despite my movement away from him, he’s managed to corner me against the bench.
“Unfortunately, if I bring you back to my room Desiree will want me to share you with her. I’m not in a sharing mood this morning.” Richard paws my chest as I grasp his shoulders to push him away.
“We could go up to the pilothouse. Lock the doors.” Richard murmurs as he grasps my hand guiding it to the firm bulge in his shorts. “See what you do to me, “ he whispers huskily. Sensing that he has a problem understanding the word no, I change my tactics. I begin to stroke him, noting his shortcomings in comparison to Michael. Richard moans, as I release the button of his fly, touching his hot flesh.
“Please,” he whimpers begging me not to stop. Sensing the opportunity, I tighten my grasp, seeing the pain translate on his face.
“I said ‘no.’ And I mean no. Not now. Not ever. Understand!” I hiss as maintain my grasp for a moment longer to make my point.
As I release him, Richard crumbles, clinging to the bench in great pain. With disdain, I wipe my hand on my shorts and walk away. I’m aghast as to the boldness Richard has shown. I truly would have liked to ‘teach’ him a little more, but I realize Jones would not be pleased if I soured the deal.
Reaching the steps I’m surprised to find Michael waiting, almost smiling. No, he actually is smiling, seeming pleased.
“I was going to come assist you, but then I saw you had the situation in hand.”
~~~~~
Docking by late-morning, our departure from the Knowles was with little fan-fare. Richard, still hurting from his encounter with Nikita, kept a low profile for the remainder of the morning and was not present as we were leaving. Only a hung-over Desiree groggily bid us farewell. I believe all parties involved were relieved that this trip had ended.
Where Nikita looks anxious to return to the hotel, I have other plans. Instead, I steer us toward the beach. I sense Nikita’s curiosity is piqued by the route I have chosen, but says nothing. I decide to cut to the chase, since we are now away from surveillance and are anonymous amongst the beachgoers. Walking along the water I casually ask,
“Why did you sneak from our bed this morning?”
“What do you mean? I couldn’t sleep so I went for a walk.” Nikita brushes my question aside.
Conscious of her careful movements this morning, I know her answer is a lie. I try a different approach.
“What happens when the Knowles profile plays itself out? Where do we go from there?”
“We? Michael…” Nikita shakes her head. With a sad seriousness, she stops and faces me. “We don’t go anywhere. I do appreciate the favor—accompanying me on Knowles’ yacht. But your participation ends there. After the profile plays out, I will return to Centre to provide my services and you…. You have to go on with your life. I’m sorry, but I can’t be a part of that life.”
“I see. So this is where you tell me you don’t love me.” I reply searching her face for the truth.
“No.” Nikita answers, casting her eyes toward the sand. Looking up again with an awkward smile, she continues, “I tried that once, but you didn’t believe me.”
I nod softly but feel a knot forming in my throat. I sense what is coming.
“You told me once that you couldn’t allow me to become your weakness. I understand now that you can’t become mine either. If the circumstances were different….” Her voice trails off. Her eyes appear glassy just before she blinks away the tears.
“The circumstances could be different if you want them to be.” I challenge.
Swallowing hard she simply shakes her head as the anguish shows in her eyes. I grasp her hand as she tries to walk away from me. Holding her wrist, I gently rub the soft skin of the back of her hand with my thumb.
“Think about it.”
“Please.” I breathe, choking the word out as a whisper as I tighten my grasp. Regaining my voice, I add, “I’ll be at the brasserie tomorrow at noon, should you reconsider.”
Releasing her wrist, I walk away, filled with unwanted emotion. I’m unsure of Nikita’s reaction for I choose not to look back. Blindly, I trudge up the sandy beach away from her. I can only wait until tomorrow to know her answer.
~~~~~
I swallow hard as I watch him walk away. From his tone I know this is the final chance he’s giving me. My heart wants me to run after him and beg him to forgive me. But my feet remain planted firmly in the sand.
A small child begins to stare at me with her innocent blue eyes as she toddles past me to retrieve her ball. I realize that I must look out of place, standing there with tears streaming down my face. Feeling emotionally drained, I lift my bag with a sigh, as I start walking along the water again. I turn my head to see Michael’s blurry image appearing smaller and smaller as he moves from my sight. Brushing the tears from my eyes with the back of my hand, I wander down the beach in the opposite direction.
What if I were to go to the brasserie tomorrow?
I long for it to be that simple. I long to walk away from my current situation with no consequences.
But there would be consequences. For both me and Michael. I made my bed and now I’ll have to lay in it. Alone.
It’s not myself I fear for. It’s Michael. I had hoped his inner strength would propel him forward. I want him to find the will to survive without me. Yet, I feel a strange satisfaction knowing he lacks that will. Knowing that he feels as bound to me as I feel bound to him.
My thoughts are interrupted as I hear the muffled sound of a cell phone ringing. Rooting through my bag, I retrieve the cell phone. Equipping it with the scrambler, I answer the call.
“Josephine?”
“Here.”
“What is Jones’ status?”
“I’m not sure.” I swallow.
“Why is that?” the voice asks with irritation.
“I haven’t returned to the hotel yet. I’m on my way now.”
“The longer this takes the greater the possibility of detection.”
“I know.” I breathe into the phone, feeling like the scolded child.
“Focus on the end game. We wouldn’t want Michael to become a distraction.”
“He’s not.” I reply too hastily. Realizing I just confirmed it, I bite my lip with self-contempt.
The line clicks dead. I snap the phone shut with resignation. I’m reminded that I sold my soul to the devil, while my heart bleeds for Michael.
Closing my eyes, I envision Michael sitting alone in the brasserie. Waiting for the woman who can’t be with him. Unhappy with that image, I reshape it. Instead, the door opens and I enter the brasserie meeting his smile as I join him.
~~~~
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