Tristan Trilogy- Story 3

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.
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