Tristan
Trilogy- Story 3
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CHAPTER 24
The flight to Sweden
seemed interminable. The plane wasn’t due to land until after
five AM, Orlando time and she guessed it would be nearly noon
in Sweden - maybe later - before she got to the villa. The pilot
had announced that severe thunderstorms plagued the eastern
coast of Sweden and the Baltic Sea and they may have to hover
until there was a break in the cloud cover. The storms weren’t
moving and forecasters expected them to last for many more hours.
Tristan had tried to sleep on the plane
but it was useless. The older gentleman who sat next to her
was a classical music fan and loved the piano so he was thrilled
when he realized whom he would be sharing a seat with. He badgered
her with her opinions on Horowitz and the politics of the classical
music world. She tried to be polite and was fairly successful
but what she really craved was quiet. Her companion, who could
have been her grandfather if she’d had one, studied her for
a moment and then asked why she was so dressed up for a transatlantic
flight. He bent forward and examined her legs, not in a lewd
way, but seemingly out of concern.
“You know,” he said seriously, “I saw a
show on airline safety and it said that you should never wear
stockings on a flight because if the plane crashed and burned,
the stockings will melt to your legs causing severe injury.”
They stared at each other for a moment
while Tristan’s brain cells absorbed this ironic piece of information.
Then she burst out laughing. She was getting very punchy.
“Well, if we start to go down while we’re
thirty-five thousand feet over the Atlantic, remind me of that.
I should have time to peel them off… I wouldn’t want to get
injured…”
The man kept staring for another moment
and then finally laughed along with her as the ridiculousness
of his concern set in. Then things became quiet for a little
while. She supposed that she did look a little ridiculous flying
to Europe in the middle of the night wearing an off-the-shoulder,
practically backless designer dress, high heels and Kevin’s
diamond earrings. She had no luggage - no other clothes with
her - not even a jacket. Her decision to fly to Sweden had been
one of the most spontaneous things she had ever done. All she
had with her was a small clutch bag that contained a pocket
sized hairbrush, a lipstick, a handkerchief, one credit card,
her driver’s license and $63.45 in cash.
The plane had flown into the sunrise many
hours ago even though according to Tristan’s watch, it should
be pitch black. Soon they were flying above black thunderheads
that occasionally glowed with electricity. Kevin would be having
a fit if he knew she was flying in this mess. She stared out
of the window wondering how he was now, if he had calmed down.
She hoped he was staying away from the liquor. Kevin could be
comical if he’d had only a little to drink but if he went overboard,
he became quite intense. She was just beginning to doze when
the flight attendant started passing out magazines. Seeing her
closed eyes, he bypassed her and went to the passengers who
sat in the seat behind. Soon Tristan heard their murmurs.
“I’m telling you, that’s her! She’s sitting
right in front of us! Look at this picture!”
“Shit… I think you’re right! We’re flying
to Sweden - he’s in Sweden - it makes sense.”
“God, do you believe these pictures? Wonder
how she feels about him going to these strip clubs… Things must
not be that great at home… Guess the honeymoon is over.”
“How great can things be when your wife
is screwing your brother?”
The first voice giggled. “Looks like she’s
developed a taste for Richardson dick!”
“Do you mean that literally?” the second
voice whispered and then broke into stifled laughter.
Tristan pressed her eyelids together tightly
and a tiny tear spilled down her cheek. She reached into her
bag for her handkerchief realizing that this overheard assumption
was probably a common one. She thought bitterly that the term
‘first class cabin’ obviously had nothing to do with manners
or taste - just money. Her thoughts began to grow dark and hopeless.
She didn’t know if she had the strength to fight another media
battle. Maybe flying to Kevin was a mistake. Maybe it would
look phony or contrived. Maybe he wanted to cool off alone.
He hadn’t asked her to come. They wouldn’t be alone. Would she
have to defend herself to him? She couldn’t help but think back
to the fall tour last year. The circumstances were similar,
though the causes were different. She felt a fear grip her as
she remembered the results of that surprise reunion. Tristan
was beginning to think she had made a huge mistake and then
she got a sign that she felt sure was heaven sent. Her first
realization of quickening. The babies moved! I felt them!
She pressed her hand against her belly. Nothing. She sighed,
disappointed. Maybe I’m just hungry. Stomach rumbles…
Then, instead of the fluttering she had felt a moment before,
came a distinct thump against the palm of her hand.
Tristan’s priorities suddenly reshuffled
themselves and she recaptured the warm glow of hope. Despite
the often-difficult circumstances of their lives, she was certain
that she and Kevin must have a thousand angels dancing around
them. If Kevin was hurting, she would do everything she could
to make his pain stop.
The plane’s arrival was delayed by almost
an hour. When Tristan finally made her way to the line of cabs
waiting in front of the terminal, it was 12:20, Swedish time.
Although she had seldom felt more conspicuous than she did right
now, flagging a cab in Dolce and Gabbana, she was relieved that
she hadn’t had to wait for luggage. Rain was pouring in great
sheets and it was dark as night outside.
As the cab made it’s way to the outskirts
of Stockholm, Tristan’s anxiety grew. It would be almost one
PM when she reached the villa. Maybe Kevin wouldn’t even be
there. She noticed, though, as she rode through the city, that
several electrical wires had been downed by strong winds. Lights
were out everywhere. She doubted they would be recording today.
She was unaware of the cab following them - the one that carried
Charlie Mancuso. He had caught the same flight back to Sweden
and would be arriving at the villa soon after Tristan.
********************
Leighanne was grumbling in the kitchen,
wishing that the housekeeper, Martina, were the cook as well.
She had been assigned kitchen duty and was trying to fix some
lunch for the crowd. She was at a loss. There was no Kraft Macaroni
and Cheese; no Campbell’s Soup and no frozen pizza. Not that
it would have mattered. There was no electricity, either.
“Hey, we’re starving in here!” Amanda screamed
from the living room. Then she whispered. “God, Brian, I feel
sorry for you….”
“Yeah, Brian. I got a regular Julia
Child here…” AJ piped up, rolling his eyes.
Leighanne stomped in from the kitchen and
stood legs apart with her hands on her hips.
“Okay, Amanda… Why don’t you get your smart
and very wide ass in here and give me a hand? It wouldn’t exactly
kill you to miss a meal anyway…”
Tempers were beginning to flare among the
group. They were tired from the hours they’d been keeping, hot
because there was no air-conditioning, hungry because there
was no food and bored because there was nothing to do. Howie
was the only one in the room unaware of the tension because
he was asleep on the sofa. Kevin hadn’t left his room. No one
had seen him since they left the studio. Jack was tired of the
complaints and problems and had been snapping at Mason. The
fact of the matter was that they were all on each other’s nerves.
They had all tried to avoid any anger over
the magazine spread. There was as much damaging material between
the covers about the girls as there was about the guys. Most
of it could be explained away fairly easily but there had been
a little trouble about the strip club business. It was easier
to focus on the Kevin, Tristan, and Jerald triangle and divert
attention to the people who weren’t present. But that had created
problems, too, most notably from Brian who didn’t fail to point
out how much simpler things were the last time they had been
in Sweden. He had gone on to identify this time as the ‘pre-Tristan
era’. That had pissed AJ off. Leighanne had come to Brian’s
defense and that had pissed Amanda, Holly and Nick off. Jack
recommended that they abandon the subject and they had agreed.
No one could win that battle and no one really wanted to.
Mason decided to come to Leighanne’s rescue
and pulled himself away from a dull book to join her in the
kitchen. He and Leighanne were searching the pantry once again
for suitable fare when Mason saw headlights approaching through
the driving rain.
“Someone’s here..” he said to no one as
he wiped his hands on a towel.
The headlights drove around to kitchen
door, which at least offered some protection from the torrent.
It was someone who knew the house.
Tristan leaned forward and paid her cab
fare, which amounted to $48.75, American. After she included
a $10.00 tip, she was left with $4.70 to her name. I guess
I’m lucky I have a rich husband…. Mason peered through the
window, trying to figure out who would come here in a cab. He
couldn’t see into the car window.
When the cab door finally opened, Mason’s
eyes grew wide and his mouth hung open. Leighanne was watching
him, wondering if it was the Second Coming. It was close enough,
as far as Mason was concerned.
“My God..” he whispered. “It’s Precious…”
Then he shrieked in delight.
Six pairs of eyes in the living room shot
up in alarm. Even Howie woke up as Jack leaped from his chair,
spilling the contents of his briefcase all over the floor.
“Shit! He’s hurt himself!” he shouted,
stumbling over AJ’s ashtray and Nick’s long legs.
Before he could make it across the room,
Mason had started through the kitchen doorway. He was effervescent.
“Looky, looky, looky!” he cried, reaching
back through the doorway and pulling out a very tired, very
anxious and slightly wet Tristan Grace Mallory Richardson.
“Damn, girl!” AJ grinned flying towards
her. “You get all dressed up just to see me?” He hugged her
tightly and cackled in her ear.
“Get outta my way, AJ!” Nick snarled and
grabbed Tristan away. He leaned close to her ear and whispered.
“God, I’m glad to see you, Tris. He needs you real bad.”
Amanda and Holly were exchanging their
own thoughts out of earshot of the others.
“I thought you couldn’t reach her..” Amanda
said to Holly.
“I didn’t.” Holly whispered. “I haven’t
talked to her.”
Amanda raised her brows. “You sending telepathic
messages now, Hol?”
Holly just shrugged and gave credit to
divine intervention.
“My God!” Mason clucked, turning Tristan
in a circle. “Your D & G is ruined! Where is your bag! You need
to get out of that wet dress!”
“I don’t have any luggage…” Tristan answered
softly. “I left in kind of a hurry right after a performance.
I don’t have anything with me.” She smiled, looking a little
embarrassed. “I don’t even have $5.00…”
Leighanne’s eyes took on a glazed appearance.
“Ooooh…shopping…”
As much as Tristan was happy to see her
friends, she had more urgent things on her mind. Everyone was
now standing beside or in front of her except for the one who
brought her here.
The room grew silent as she surveyed the
group. She knew that they were aware of why she must be here,
especially considering her doctor’s instructions. They knew
far more about Kevin’s state of mind than she did at this moment.
Finally she spoke.
“Where is he?”
When several pairs of eyes glanced towards
the staircase, she turned quietly and walked towards the steps.
She wouldn’t ask them how he was doing. She already knew from
what they didn’t say.
“He’s in your old room, Tris…” Nick called.
Tristan nodded, took a breath and walked
up to the second floor.
***************************
It took Tristan a moment for her eyes to
adjust to the lack of light in the room. Although it was after
one in the afternoon, the booming thunderstorms had made the
room almost dark. Still, she could see Kevin’s body sprawled
out on the bed, uncovered by a sheet or blanket but damp with
perspiration. He hadn’t yet cut his hair and it was combed back
from his face. He mumbled and shifted in the bed and seemed
unable to get comfortable.
Tristan stepped into the bathroom, peeled
off her clothes and blotted the rain from her skin with a towel.
Her body had undergone a few changes in the last three weeks
and she wondered what Kevin would think. The pregnancy was almost
half over now even though it seemed like Kevin had just told
her about the babies. She took a bathrobe from the hook on the
door and slipped it on before going back into the bedroom. She
placed her earrings on the dresser next to some papers covered
in Kevin’s handwriting. They were lyrics to a new song titled
‘It’s True’. Tristan glanced up from the papers when she heard
him move again, this time to his side, and walked over to the
window to crack the curtains, allowing a little more light to
enter the room. The rain looked as if it were pouring away from
the house, so she cranked open the window a few inches, delighting
in the rain cooled breeze that swept through the opening.
When she turned back to Kevin, he had shifted
yet again. He seemed agitated now and Tristan suspected he was
dreaming. From the looks of it, he wasn't having a pleasant
dream. She knelt down beside the bed and stroked his cheek with
her fingers and whispered his name. He looked so tired. Her
plan was to lull him into a peaceful sleep and then crawl into
bed with him. When he woke, she would be there, he would be
calm and everything would be all right. Things did not go according
to Tristan’s plan.
Kevin thought he smelled honeysuckle. The
familiar touch on his cheek was soothing but confusing. Tristan
was not here. Maddening visions clouded his brain - irrational
images that only made sense to the dreamer. He heard her speak
his name and watched himself from a distance, moving on top
of her, rocking towards indefinable pleasure, moaning in his
sleep. Fresh beads of perspiration trickled down the side of
his face, mixing with fresh tears when he realized that it wasn’t
him on top of Tristan at all. It was….
“Kevin? Wake up sweetheart…” Tristan coaxed
softly, wiping the wetness from his face with her fingers. ‘You’re
having a bad dream…”
Kevin’s eyes opened slowly. He felt disoriented
as if his brain couldn’t connect with his senses. He stared
straight ahead, trying to focus. He was in the same room he
remembered coming to. He was at the villa. He was alone in his
bed, but something was off kilter. I’m finally going crazy…..
Then he felt soft fingertips brush against the sprinkling of
fine black hairs below his collarbone. He cut his eyes sharply
to the side of the bed and realized that he must still be asleep
when he saw Tristan her kneeling there. A dream within a
dream….. His heart was pounding inside his chest but it
seemed to stop when he heard his apparition speak.
“Kevin? Are you alright?” Tristan murmured,
stroking his damp hair.
Kevin froze. He didn’t understand. “Tris?”
His voice seemed strangled and his eyes had narrowed skeptically.
“Am I awake? Is that you?”
Kevin’s apparition smiled gently and leaned
forward, brushing her lips against his mouth and, once more,
moving her fingers to his face.
“It’s me, darling… I just got here…”
“Jesus….” Kevin groaned and in one swift
movement, swept Tristan across his body and onto her back beside
him.
She was too surprised by this sudden move
to speak and before she had a chance to recover, his mouth had
covered hers completely, the pressure of his kiss pinning her
head against the mattress and the strength of his hands holding
her arms above her head, rendering her helpless.
She could feel his beard rubbing against
her jaw as he turned his head, repositioning his mouth in an
effort to gain better access. She could feel his wide tongue
covering hers, probing, eliciting moans from deep within her
throat. Then he pulled back and studied her face, looking for
answers. Why did you travel after the doctor said no? Why
now? Why without telling anyone? What made you run to Sweden?
Kevin thought he saw a flicker of worry move across her face.
He continued to hold her gaze. The windows to the soul...
What did he see there? Fear? Regret? Guilt?
“What happened with Jerald, Tris?”
He felt compelled to ask but tried desperately
not to sound accusatory. He was pressing himself against her,
moving gently to a sexual pulse. Their intimacy was building.
He needed her badly but he needed answers, too.
“Nothing happened...”
“Did he put his hands on you? Ever?”
“No.” she lied
Kevin’s eyes narrowed a bit. He didn’t
want to know any more. He didn’t want to know what ‘almost’
happened or what could have happened. He wanted to believe that
Jerald hadn’t crossed any lines. He’d sooner believe himself
to be cruel and paranoid than to think that his oldest sibling
had breached his trust. He wasn’t sorry for what he had said
to Tristan on the phone. He had meant and felt every single
word. He was only sorry for the way he had said it. The expression
on his face implored Tristan - begged her to understand his
fear.
“He’s my brother, Tristan...” Kevin’s voice
trembled. “I know him. I know what he wants.. who he wants…”
“Do you know who I want, Kevin?”
she asked gently.
Kevin sighed and closed his eyes “God,
baby... I hope I do..”
“You do,” she assured him, softly. “And
do you know what else I want?”
“What, Tris? Tell me...” He began to plant
light kisses in the crook of her neck and suck on the skin there.
“Anything...”
“I want you to put Jerald out of our bed.
He doesn’t belong with us when we lay together. There’s only
us - just Kevin and Tristan. There isn’t any room for him here.”
Then she pressed her cheek against the top of his head. “Let
go of my arms, Kevin. Let me make love to you…”
Kevin pressed his length against her and
made a guttural sound deep in his throat almost as if he were
trying to mark her in some way. His body tensed as he continued
to rub himself against her hip and she could feel his hot breaths
coming in gentle puffs against her neck. After several seconds,
he acquiesced and she felt his hands loosen on her arms and
move down her body until he reached the tie on the terrycloth
robe. It was not knotted and slipped open easily, giving Kevin
free access to her body. His hand lingered on her significantly
enlarged belly and he pressed his palm hesitantly against her
flesh.
“Jesus, Tris… Look at you! You’ve gotten
so…so…”
“Healthy…” she smiled, rolling herself
to her side so that she and Kevin faced each other.
They lay looking into each other’s eyes
for only a moment before Kevin pressed himself against her once
more and moaned softly as his eyes closed. His desperation for
release was growing. It excited Tristan for him to need her
this way.
“What do you want me to do, Kevin?”
She moved her face close to his as she
asked her question so that her breath vibrated across his lips
with each word. She ended her query by running the tip of her
tongue lightly over his bottom lip - her touch so delicate and
faint that he was barely aware of the moistness and heat of
her advance. Kevin’s eyes opened slightly as he considered her
words.
“You know what I like, Tris…”
“Tell me,” she whispered. “Tell me what…tell
me how…”
He pressed his hardness against her once
again. Tristan’s directive was simple but somewhat titillating.
She would control his pleasure; he would control her method.
Kevin appreciated her flexibility. He preferred controlling
both.
“Touch me…” he murmured as they continued
to lock eyes.
His breathing shallowed in anticipation
of her hands on him - stroking, cradling, squeezing. Her hand,
which had been resting on his shoulder, began a slow and agonizing
descent as she shifted slightly to free the arm which lay against
the mattress. Kevin’s body jerked a little when her fingers
made contact with his pulsating stiffness and began to stroke
him lightly. He fought to keep his eyes on hers as his lips
parted allowing a low moan to escape from the back of his throat.
“Tighter, Tris…. Faster….”
She complied and Kevin groaned with pleasure.
Her thumb began to circle his glans and then moved upward, gliding
across the slit on the tip of his manhood. Pre-cum seeped from
the opening, lubricating his shaft.
“God, baby… Don’t stop…,” Kevin grunted
between breaths, pressing his face against her cheek.
Perspiration rolled down his face to his
neck as he gripped her shoulder, moving his hips to meet her
strokes. Soon she got another command. His mouth moved against
her neck and she felt herself grow wet.
“Cradle them, Tristan… Squeeze them…”
One of her hands lifted his sac as the
other kept sliding up and down his engorged member. She squeezed
his scrotum and felt him tighten.
“Easy, baby…” he whimpered against her
skin.
Another trickle of fluid eased out of him
and Tristan wondered how much more he could take. His bucking
became more forceful - his body was covered in sweat. She felt
the whisper of his words before she heard them.
“I want your mouth on me, Tristan. You
know what to do… You know what I like…”
Kevin rolled to his back with a sigh as
Tristan’s hands left him so that she could reposition himself.
His own hands continued the ministrations on his sex that hers
had begun until he felt her lips engulf him. Then they moved
unconsciously to her head and he raised his hips to hasten penetration.
Soon Tristan’s rhythmic movements no longer needed his guidance.
She cast a glance at him. His was grasping at the headboard
behind him but still watching her and encouraging her with his
strangled praises.
“Good girl, Tris… Come on, baby…”
After a minute, she again felt his seepage
and he froze, trying desperately to hold himself back.
“You gotta stop now, Tris… Please…”
Tristan raised her head and looked at him
expectantly as he fought to catch his breath. Kevin wished he
had a picture of her as she looked at this moment. She sat on
her knees, her belly swollen with his children, her mussed hair
falling over her face and covering her breasts. One pink nipple
peeked out from between the long blond strands. Her lips were
parted and her eyes had widened, revealing a rim of amethyst
surrounding dilated pupils. Kevin sat up and pulled her to him.
“God damn, you are so fucking beautiful..”
“Don’t you want me to finish you?”
A touch of plaintivness edged her voice
and Kevin felt himself smile. She looked positively child-like.
My woman-child….
“I want us to cum together…” he whispered
as he pushed a few stray strands of hair from her eyes. “Ride
me…”
Tristan gave him a small smile and rose
up on her knees, leaning forward to kiss him as his hands moved
over the swell her belly. Her arms went around his neck as her
tongue entered his mouth and at that moment, Kevin’s hands went
to her hips and pushed her down, penetrating her in one single,
swift motion. Tristan immediately began to rock gently. He was
ready. So was she and their rocking motion soon escalated to
a state of mild frenzy. Tristan could feel her own sense of
urgency begin to take over. Her head fell back and Kevin heard
and felt what he had missed so desperately for the last few
weeks. She was approaching her point of no return. When Kevin
felt her begin to contract around him, he raised his head to
watch. Come on, Tris… I’m waiting for you… Let me hear you,
baby… As if on cue, he heard his name on Tristan’s lips.
Her calling began as a soft murmur and as it’s intensity mounted,
Kevin issued one last command -
“Grind into me, Tris!” he panted. “Now,
baby… It’s time….”
**********************
Kevin lay quietly in Tristan’s arms, his
head against her breasts, his chest pressed against her belly.
They both lay still, listening to the distant rumbling of passing
thunderheads. Kevin was the first to speak.
“When did you eat last, Tris?” His voiced
was laced with concern.
Tristan chuckled softly at Kevin’s question.
It seemed to come out of left field.
“I don’t know. I had a snack on the plane.
Why?”
“I can feel your stomach rumbling. Maybe
you’d better eat something…” He looked up at her with a wry
smile and added - “Else…”
Tristan slapped his shoulder, feigning
indignation and then rubbed the spot gently.
“That’s not growling, Kevin. That’s babies..”
Kevin stared at her tummy as if he were
trying to summon up his powers of x-ray vision and then slid
himself down her body. An exhausted Tristan fell asleep with
Kevin’s cheek lying against her abdomen as he sang softly to
his children.
Tristan
Trilogy - Story III
"Circling"
is a work of fiction.
The characters and events portrayed are fictitious.
Any resemblance to real people or events is purely coincidental.
Copyright
©2000
All Rights Reserved
No part of this text may be copied or reprinted
without the author's permission.
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Fiction
by Grace
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