The Meeting Point (9 page)

He tapped Deborah gently on the head and she stopped sucking quite so hard.

Seemingly calm, he continued. “She is so hot, I can smell her aroma as I place my hand on the small of her back and walk around behind her. Her cheeks are spread and the sight is glorious, from the rosebud of her ass leading to the glistening dark hole to the pink pearl nestled between her deep red pussy lips. ‘Beautiful,' I say and strike the flat of my hand across the space I've just been admiring.”

He stopped again and Deborah released him fully. “What is it?” She held her hair, protecting it from being pulled as he scuffled out from under her.

“I'm sorry,” he said, climbing out of the bed, grabbing the handful of sheeting they'd torn as he stood. “I can't take it. I need to do it to you, not just read it.”

Deborah grinned from ear to ear. “I thought you never would!”

“Watch out, miss, that could earn you a punishment.”

Deborah's insides liquefied and she jumped out of bed and joined him on the floor.

He quickly stripped her. “Pass me your wrists.”

She did as she was bid and he tied her exactly as the notebook instructed, bending her at the waist and running his hand up her chest before securing her hands to her ankles.

“I love the way your pretty tits fall upward when I have you like this.” He cupped one in his palm, toying with the nipple, and she squirmed.

Her pussy was trembling in anticipation of what might happen next. There was a lot of makeshift rope left and he wound it up her legs a little before bringing it up to her face and wrapping it around her head to blindfold and gag her with the same length.

She was beyond thrilled and fought against her bindings to make the knotting feel even tighter and more restrictive. Her body was light, threatening to slip away on a breath, and yet she was grounded. Rooted to the spot in readiness for the invasion.

He slapped her behind and the sound ricocheted around the flat walls of the room. So different to the noises of a thrashing in the forest. There it had carried and echoed then stopped, holding its breath for the next. Here it rang and rang, drawing her headspace into the sound of her flesh stinging. Again, again, again, increasing in brutality. Deborah groaned and swayed and pushed her pelvis back into the blows, aching for more. She felt like a river of desire was flowing from her wanton cunt and he must see how raw she was for him. She gritted her teeth, awaiting another slap. When none came, she was amazed to feel relief. He'd stopped just in time. Her molten buttocks melted into the heat of her pussy and she didn't know where one area stopped and the next began. She felt open and huge like an immense cavern of lust, desperate to be plugged up and filled.

Both of his hands rested on her hips and she knew for sure this was the moment. Her cunt was pulsing and clutching, feral and shameless. His cock sat for what felt like an eternity at her entrance, stretching her and teasing her mercilessly. Anger and rage swelled in her belly and she pushed back onto him, impaling herself on his rod. He grabbed her tight and began fucking her hard, slamming his pelvis into hers over and over again as she writhed in ecstasy around him.

She felt like she was climbing the heights of a mountain, her body was flying high with sensation. His thumb suddenly pushed into her ass, roughly and without warning. It was sexy and her clit jumped, desperate for attention of its own. Marcus never missed a beat and reached under to the swollen nub, rubbing violently until Deborah roared into her bindings, coming in a blinding flash of light, bent over like a rag doll. She sagged and quivered and felt tossed around on the end of his bouncing cock as he started the ascent, racking and building until at last with one bucking fuck, he came hard inside her, wrapping his forearm around her waist to keep both their balance.

When at last they were steady enough, he pulled her back onto the bed, still inside her, and they flopped, she tied and gagged, he panting and sweating. It had been fast and furious. Deborah noted how she'd stayed in the physical this time and she was pleased. Almost as if her subconscious was finally realizing it could stop searching, or slow down at least.

Sliding out of her, he tenderly unwrapped her from the sheets and rubbed all the places that had been constricted to bring back the flow of blood. Her face was numb where the sheeting had bit in and she moved her jaw around.

“Well,” she said, feeling like she'd won a prize. “That was something else.”

She fell into his arms and they began to doze off, still tangled up in the ripped sheets.

Stirring a little and pulling her deeper into the crook of his arm, Marcus spoke softly as if the words would change their meaning in some way. “You will have to go and find them. You know that, don't you?”

Deborah sighed. The delicious sexual distraction had worked for a little while, but he was right. For now, though, she wanted this one last day just to languish in his arms, his bed, and think about all that later.

“Let me do it tomorrow, Marcus. I just want one more guaranteed night with you.”

 

 

Lena sat up and twisted the knots from her body, her spine cracking from her neck to her waist. Her head was thumping and her nose was cold. The morning dew seemed to have condensed on the end of it. Well, that's what she told herself when she wiped the dripping tip on her sleeve.
Ugh.

Everything was damp and cold, and she was beginning to regret their decision to wait it out another night in the woods. Her stomach rumbled and she picked at the charred bones of last night's rabbit. Mae really was one of the most capable people she'd ever met. She looked over at her sleeping lovers intertwined in furs and each other, their chests rising softly, breath misting in the morning air.

Hoping for heat to dry their damp belongings, Lena looked out to the hazy moors. The sun was just rising and Lena wasn't overly convinced its rays would break through the heavy fog. She couldn't bear the thought of having to light the fire again. Smoke hung to every fiber of her and she felt grimy with it. At first, she had reveled in the role of forest nymph, but now she was too tired, too cold, and too hungry to see the romance. Picking up a bone, she nibbled on it, cautiously waiting for it to splinter in her teeth. She'd been hoping they would have woken up to the sight of the butterfly all ready to safely show them the way to The Wasp.

Grinding her teeth through the end of what she thought might be the ball socket of a hip, Lena pondered her reasoning for finding The Wasp. It was a pure instinct. Like this woman would bring them to safety. It was all she had to go on—and something Cheryl had let slip about The Wasp being some sort of scientist looking into curing the toxic effect of the clouds. Maybe it was true, maybe not, but she was following her gut on this one.

Looking over at her lovers, she had a pang of jealousy over their carefree slumber. She felt like she needed to sleep for another week. Rising and shaking down her clothing, Lena walked to the edge of the tree line to wait for the day to break properly. The farm, or what they hoped was the farm, was only about an hour's walk away, so they'd have plenty of time to dry out—if the bloody sun would make an appearance. At last, as she felt her head dip into her shoulder, a few rays made it onto her cheek. She fell asleep resting against the decrepit fence where she'd found the harness.

“Come on, lazy face.” Mae's chirpy voice was accompanied by a ruffle of fingers in Lena's hair.

Flinching away from them, Lena realized she must have been sleeping for a while under the glare of the morning sunshine which had indeed chased the fog away. Her cheeks felt burnt and she cursed herself at being so stupid. Thirst raged through her and she was more irritable than ever, especially when Mae slung her another comment.

“It's all right for some getting to lie about doing nothing all day.”

Lena held her tongue and stumbled to standing, dreading the thought of having to pack away all the damp things which no doubt still lay in a steaming heap by the fire place. Stomping grumpily with her head down, following the crunching path Mae made, Lena was close to tears at the thought of missing yet another opportunity to find The Wasp. They would just have to carry everything the way it was. Wet and heavy. She should have woke the others hours ago.

Still grumbling to herself, Lena almost bashed right into the standing figure of Angelo.

“Hey, come on, what's up?” he asked gently and pulled her chin up to look at him.

“Someone rolled out the wrong side of the ditch,” Mae said brightly from just behind Angelo.

Lena fought the urge to shriek at her and just stared at a point on Angelo's chest, wondering if it was the exact place where his solar plexus might be.

“Come on.” Angelo tugged a little harder and Lena was forced to refocus on his glorious smile. How could he be so full of joy when they were behind schedule again? “Oh darling, you've caught the sun,” he said, his brow knitting in concern.

No shit
, thought Lena, but then her heart softened when Angelo stooped, lowering a big bundle from his shoulders to the ground and reached for her face. As his fingers traced along the tender flesh, she smiled in relief as she caught a glimpse of Mae also carrying a bundle.

“You packed?” Lena said in gratitude.

“Of course,” Angelo said, looking puzzled. “That was the plan, wasn't it? To leave this morning?”

“Yes, but…I thought… Oh, never mind.” She kissed him lightly on his full lips, breathing in the soft aroma of sweat and Mae on his mouth. “This is great. Thanks. I thought it would take ages to dry everything.”

“It did. We had fun waiting though.” He winked and Lena winced back a pang of jealousy before smiling back.

In truth, she'd needed that sleep so badly. Though she could have done without being half-cooked. He pulled her into him and kissed her seared cheek and temple. It throbbed in that strange, pleasant, yet sickly way, and she nuzzled closer.

“I'm sorry we didn't look after you properly though. We should have paid more attention,” he said.

Lena was grateful for his guilt somehow. But she also knew he thought they had been doing something nice for her, letting her rest while they did all the work.

“We should get moving.” Mae's voice and footsteps crunching the brittle heather broke the spell and they pulled apart. “Oh God, Lena, you've totally burnt your face.” She shook her head and swatted Lena's behind as she passed.

Lena rolled her eyes and smiled. She loved these two, so different from each other. Almost like the two extremes of herself—or two extremes of who she wished she was.

The trio walked down toward the farm building, loosely following a derelict stone wall and keeping hidden in the sparse gorse bushes as much as they could. They were utterly silent. Lena's mind was whirring with all sorts of things, but one question kept recurring—why hadn't they talked about any sort of plan? It was like nobody wanted to bring it up. If they talked about what they were going to do and how they were going to do it, they would have to also talk through eventualities, and it appeared that none of them wanted to do that. Was it complete stupidity or self-preservation? Lena didn't know, but her vocal chords felt paralyzed. She just kept walking to the swish and crack of four other footsteps and let the thoughts thunder on.

At last, the farm was only a field away and the threesome crouched behind a moderately intact section of wall.

Mae was the first to open the pressure cooker. “What the fuck are we doing? What if we get caught? Oh my God, Lena, this woman better be our fucking savior!”

Lena was suddenly wracked with guilt and self-doubt. She peered through cracks in the lichen-clad wall, hoping for something to ease her burden. A huge austere building with a walled garden lay so close. Women were milling around inside the garden area, and as far as Lena could see, they looked like they were all doing chores. It must be too early for actual customers.

“Maybe we should wait until a bit later, when clients come along.”

“How do you know that's what even happens?”

“I don't. I don't know anything.” Lena turned to Mae, suddenly furious with her. “I don't fucking know anything apart from the fact that I'm fucking scared, confused, thirsty, and sunburnt. Okay, Mae? Why don't you take charge? It's what you're best at.”

And with that, she turned away from Angelo and Mae, trying to keep in the shade as much as possible. Her face really was burning now alongside her anger. If only she had the confidence to just make a decision and go for it whether other people agreed or not. Trembling, she tried to hold back the tears which welled inside her. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. They were meant to be happy altogether like this.

“Stop this.” Angelo's rich voice broke the silence. “Yes, we are all concerned, but we did all decide on this. I obviously can't go in there, so one of you has to. Mae, how about you?”

“It has to be me,” whispered Lena, trying to stop her voice from cracking. “Mae doesn't know The Wasp. She might not recognize her.”

“I'm sure it can't be that hard.” Lena could hear the pouting lip from the way Mae spoke and it irritated her further.

“Oh yes? What color is her hair then?”

“Oh, come on, Lena, I'm sure I would recognize her. Angelo and I did bust in on you fucking her.”

Lena twisted abruptly, ready to pounce on the woman. Why was she bringing that up?

“Stop it.” Angelo managed to cut through the animosity and held both women's hands tightly. “Stop. We're all tense. Let's not let this spoil things between us. We are lucky to be where we are in the world right now.”

Mae looked down, her long black lashes casting shadows on her cheeks where a tear now ran. “Sorry. I'm sorry.”

Lena crawled over to her and hugged her close.

“I'm just so scared of losing you both. It's making me crazy.”

“I'm scared too,” Lena whispered. “Really scared. I don't know if anything I say or do is right. I can't stand it.”

Lena closed her eyes, breathing in Mae and tracing the path of the tear with her fingertips. She'd never been so grateful for a tear. Evidence of similar feelings from all of them. That tear gave her the strength she needed.

“I will go. As soon as we see people other than those we've been watching—people that look like they might be visiting—I'll go. But for now. We'll keep watch.

* * * *

Deborah sat on the toilet trying to stop her trembling heels from clattering into the stone floor. The nerves were completely unfounded now. She'd made it out into the main client area, but as the adrenalin from picking her way through corridors and trying not to be noticed subsided, she was exhausted with it. She fingered the beads on her access bracelet, hoping they didn't change the color or something on different days.
Focus. Focus.
The woozy feeling of her blood pressure lowering reminded Deborah to try and pull herself together. It was too easy to slip out of herself and disappear in moments of stress like this. Dropping her head between her knees, she tried breathing deep and slow to counteract the symptoms. Eventually, she had calmed down enough to leave the cubicle.

The water was gloriously cold and she splashed it freely over her face, relishing the feeling of being in control returning.

“Nice bracelet.” The voice stunned her and she glanced around the echoey room looking for who might be addressing her.

“Oh, yes, thanks,” she said to a woman who was now sorting her hair and putting on a fresh layer of lipstick.

“Any chance you would let me in on how you managed to get hold of one of those?”

Deborah felt sick. How should she respond without giving herself away? If the woman asked how much it cost... Well, since Deborah hadn't even realized the change in currency, she might as well hand herself over now.

“Oh, yeah,” she said absently, studying the beads for effect. “Great, isn't it? I'm just lucky I guess.” She winked at the woman and dried her hands. “See you later,” she finished, quickly squeezing out the door before the woman could corner her further.

It was just starting to get busy and there was a queue forming at the reception desk. Thank God, Katja was there, and by the quick side look she cast her way, she knew Deborah was too. Deborah pulled her sleeve down to hide the bracelet and joined the line of excited women chattering about the men they were going to see. When it was her turn, Deborah approached a smiling Katja and leaned in.

“What are you still doing here?” Katja hissed. “I thought you'd be long gone.” The smile was firmly plastered on, but Deborah could tell she was disappointed.
Not another one
, she thought, sighing inwardly.

“I'm working on it, believe me.” Deborah was relieved to see the woman relax a little. “Listen, do you have any more of these passes? I need to smuggle someone in.”

Katja made a show of searching in her drawer and filling out a form with the wrong end of the pen—getting Deborah to sign her name in blank.

“Here,” she said, pressing it into Deborah's hot palm. “But you must bring it back by dawn. I'm already under suspicion. They keep a close tally of these things and one has been missing...if you know what I mean.”

“Sorry, I didn't know.” Deborah was genuinely shocked. This woman had put herself in danger to help her and she wasn't quite sure why. “Why are you helping me?”

A sadness flickered across the woman's face. “Please, don't ask, just accept it as a gift.”

“Don't you want to try and come too?”

The queue behind Deborah began to get restless with the conversation taking so long and several voices were now telling her to hurry up.

“Marcus will explain. Just go.” She dismissed Deborah by leaning and looking around to the next customer before firmly whispering, “And remember, dawn.”

* * * *

Deborah's heart was thundering as she clasped the treasure and went through to the bar area. She would have to stay for a little while to avoid arousing suspicion by leaving so early.

The only plan she could think of was to search the grounds outside as best she could for evidence of the others, and perhaps try to find the butterfly if she could get her bearings.

The licorice drink was as bad as it was the first time, so she drank it quickly, grimacing before asking for something else.

“Nettle tea?” the bartender held up a jar of the stingers and Deborah shrugged assent. She'd been hoping for something a little stronger, but it probably wasn't a good idea anyway. When the brew came her way, she slipped the bracelet neatly under her bum and cupped the hot glass in both hands, breathing in the fresh green aroma.

So much pinned on what she was about to do. She hiccupped a tear with the first sip of tea as the sudden image of Marcus falling to the ground in agony, clutching his chest as he left the perimeter, flashed in her mind. What if it didn't work? The only way they would ever find out was to be willing to take the risk that it might not. That Marcus could bleed into his chest until he died right in front of her. Her throat was suddenly thick with imagined grief and she was shaking.