Читать книгу Indigo Bloome Collection: The Avalon Trilogy: Destined to Play, Destined to Feel, Destined to Fly - Indigo Bloome - Страница 14

‘It’s exciting, isn’t it? When was the last time we had an opportunity like this, to catch up, play, explore and talk into the early hours of the morning? It will be great fun. I have it all planned.’ His energy on the lounge next to me is almost infectious as I attempt to maintain a nonchalant demeanour with him.

‘I’m not sure whether that makes me feel better or worse.’ Although my comment is said lightly, there is a heavy truth underlying my words. He notices my fingers trembling again and my glass balancing precariously in my hand. He takes it from me, presumably as a precautionary measure.

‘Honestly, Alex, all will be well. I know this is a big decision for you but you know I would never hurt you and that deep down, we have both wanted this to happen for ages. We just haven’t had the opportunity. Let’s just seize the moment we’re in right now, as per Eckhart Tolle.’ He pauses as his grin steadily pries his lips open. ‘Thanks for the books by the way, there was a lot of truth in them.’

I roll my eyes in utter disbelief but can’t prevent the smile curving at the edge of my mouth.

I had sent him The Power of Now and A New Earth for Christmas a few years back. I remember talking to him on the phone, overflowing with praise for the books and their life-changing messages. Serves me right, I suppose; maybe it is karma coming right back at me, to challenge me. Here I am, thanks to Jeremy, well and truly living in ‘the now’ for the next forty-eight hours.

‘Okay. You win.’ I concede. ‘Let’s have another drink so I can at least take the edge off my decision.’

‘Your wish is my command.’

‘Hmm, I’m not too sure about that,’ I say, accepting yet another refill. The champagne is definitely going down far too easily.

‘Come here; let me show you around the rest of the penthouse so you feel more comfortable.’ I accept the offer of his hand as he lifts me from the lounge.

The penthouse is certainly impressive. It looks as though it has been recently refurbished in some funky, retro ’80s style, nothing like my place but it certainly works in this environment. The master suite is decorated in an ultra urban-modern style and is a masterpiece in its own right. The king-size bed is encased with industrialised steel, the bed head is incredibly masculine, but its intricate detail gives it the sense of delicate feminine undertones — of thickened, metallic lace, almost. I can’t say whether I am relieved or disappointed at the existence of a similarly decorated second bedroom. I’ll worry about that later. The entire space is larger in size than the average house. After our tour, we finally relax into our friendly banter about old times and share a lot of laughs. This was the catch-up I was hoping for and my mind finally relieves me from worrying about the implications of my decision to stay.

Jeremy tells me about his research and the work he has been doing with certain global movers and shakers, which really inspires him. He says he’s had the opportunity to meet some wonderful people although others are just after glory, fame or money, sometimes all three. He looks a little agitated as he considers this.

‘But that’s the life I have chosen and I won’t let anything stand in the way of what I’m trying to achieve. It’s just too important.’ The determination in his voice is almost frightening. I sense there is more to it but the tension in his face prevents me from exploring further and he quickly reverts the topic back towards me.

He asks me about my work and study and seems exceptionally interested in the topic of the lectures I am giving. I try not to bore him with the details but he seems genuinely fascinated in our perceptions being directly influenced by each of our senses. He even wants to explore further the impact of visual, auditory, olfactory, kinaesthetic and gustatory senses on shaping our perceptions and experiences. He adds considerable medical insight to our discussion, which I value immensely. I had forgotten what a gracious conversationalist he can be, putting people at ease, encouraging them to open up and never making them feel inferior, even though his knowledge is so immense. It is the sort of discussion you can only have with a few people in life, those who know you well enough to question and challenge and who have enough intellectual and emotional maturity to be truly authentic.

With an active listener like Jeremy, coupled with my passion for the subject matter, our dialogue continues for some time. I figure I have had more than my share of air time so I stop to give him a chance to change topics. I notice again the mischievous twinkle in his eyes and his lips trying to hide a smile.

‘What is it? I’m sorry, I’ve been talking way too much. You should have stopped me.’

‘Not at all, you know I love to see you like this. Hearing you speak so passionately about your work is just wonderful. Not everyone feels that way, so it’s special when it happens.’ He smiles a bashful grin at me. ‘I just need to come clean about something and I haven’t yet.’

‘Oh, what’s that?’

‘I was actually there today.’

‘Where?’ I ask, not fully understanding.

‘At your lecture, this afternoon.’

I stare at him, eyes and mouth wide open.

‘You were there, today, at my lecture?’ I am completely astonished.

‘Yes, yes and yes. I know I should have told you earlier, but I just wanted to see you in your world.’ He turns to me gently. ‘You were fabulous, Alexandra, you really engaged the audience and stimulated such thoughtful discussion. Both the students and faculty were mesmerised by you and your work. As was I.’ His voice oozes sexiness.

This time I am truly speechless. The great Jeremy Quinn attended my lecture. Unbelievable! I subconsciously pick up my glass and take a gulp that finishes the rest of my drink. Jeremy tilts his glass toward mine, gesturing a silent cheers and does exactly the same. I suddenly feel the full impact of the champagne in my head, which is quite pleasant actually, and more immediately, my bladder — not so pleasant. I excuse myself and go into the bathroom. After relieving myself rather urgently, I notice the bathroom is bigger than my bedroom at home, with grey, white and blue marble in an attractive pattern. It is stocked with all the luxuries you would expect from the penthouse suite of a five-star hotel — mini bottles of body lotion, shampoo, conditioner, shower gel, as well as soap, grooming kits and shower caps in little pastel boxes that look so gorgeous it would be a shame to open them. I look longingly at the sparkling-clean oval bath when I hear Jeremy tap on the door suggesting that he run a bath for me.

‘Have you become a clairvoyant as well in our time apart? Is there anything else I should know?’

He laughs. ‘I know you’ve had a big day and if I remember correctly, one of your favourite pastimes is having a bath. Also, I have a vested interest in making you feel as relaxed as possible, so I’d be more than happy to run one for you. Just like old times.’ Strange that his words sound so familiar given so much time has passed since this last occurred.

‘That sounds delightful. Are you sure? I’m more than happy to do it.’

‘Alex, please just do me a favour and go with the flow this weekend.’ He enters the bathroom.

‘I don’t want any resistance and I plan on maximising every hour I have with you. Now, it will be my pleasure to run you a bath, so why don’t you go and get your things together and settle in.’

Once again, I look at him, completely astounded. Am I dreaming? Is this really happening? I walk out and head toward the exceptionally large walk-in robe where my wheelie bag has been placed. I hear his voice over the running bath water as I take a moment to absorb the sheer opulence of the master suite.

‘Please unpack your belongings. I need to know you’re not going to run out on me this weekend.’

As I start doing exactly as he requests, I wonder whether he was always this directive. I suppose he was. Not in a bad way, just in a way that makes it awkward to go against. Surprisingly obedient, I unpack my clothes, shoes, take out my toiletries bag, and leave my work papers in my briefcase.

I’m about to walk out of the room when I notice the phone on the bedside table. Given the noise of the bath running, I quickly go over to the phone and pick up the receiver. It won’t hurt to leave a quick message for Robert and the kids, just in case they haven’t quite lost reception.

A female voice answers. ‘Good evening, Dr Quinn. How may I help you?’

‘Oh!’ I say into the phone, taken aback by the voice at the end of the line.

I didn’t expect an operator and I’m obviously not Dr Quinn. At that precise moment Jeremy comes up behind me, wraps one arm around my waist and removes the receiver from my hand.

‘Sorry to disturb you, we don’t need any assistance at the moment and please don’t connect any calls from the penthouse suite unless I speak to you personally.’

I hear the lady say, ‘Yes, of course, Dr Quinn. Enjoy your evening.’

‘Thank you. I intend to.’ He gently replaces the phone.

I feel like an errant child who has been caught in the closet by a grown up eating someone else’s candy and immediately turn a deep shade of red. I have never been able to hide my embarrassment or shame from anyone, let alone Jeremy. I can’t believe I’m feeling so culpable about trying to make a phone call. I don’t utter a word.

He wraps both arms around my waist so I am entrapped in his strong arms, snuggles his face into the side of my neck and inhales deeply before saying in a low, quiet voice, ‘Try anything like that again and that cute arse of yours will be the same colour your face is right now.’

My heartbeats faster at his words and the blood pumps through my body, and to my surprise and horror, even my nipples can’t ignore the intent of his words through my blouse. How does he do this to me? He lightly kisses my neck and then leads me silently out of the bedroom.

As we walk back into the lounge area, I notice he has music softly playing in the background and there is a plate of voluptuous dark chocolate-coated strawberries on the round table. I decide it is probably wise not to acknowledge his previous comment.

‘May I?’ Indicating the strawberries.

‘Of course,’ he nods, ‘they are there to be eaten.’ How does he make his words sound so enticing?

‘They look delicious.’ I realise I have only had champagne since lunchtime. They taste as scrumptious as they look and the thick dark chocolate coating is delectable. I close my eyes, enjoying the sensation. Jeremy places a serviette to the corner of my lip, gently dabbing some strawberry juice that had obviously escaped. This simple movement feels so seductive that my legs quiver as my own juices begin to form between my thighs, even though I vehemently deny their existence in my mind. He smiles deliciously at me while offering the plate as if he is fully aware of the intentions of my body.

It is as if I have morphed on to the big screen and I’m playing the lead role in a sophisticated Hollywood romance. I let out a nervous giggle at the unlikelihood of the whole situation. It’s not as if this sort of thing happens every day when you are doing the washing up, the laundry and picking up the kids from school. He looks at me quizzically as if unable to decipher my thoughts.

‘Don’t worry, just reflecting on life for a moment.’

I’m relieved he hasn’t mentioned the phone call as I don’t want to spoil the mood.

‘Well, unless you would like more strawberries right now, your bath awaits.’ As he opens the door, the scene surrounding me is becoming more Hollywood by the second. Is this my once-in-a-lifetime version of Pretty Woman? Would it be fair to stop now because of the nagging guilt I feel continuously tugging at the bottom of my heart? I literally have to pinch myself as I walk into the bathroom.

‘Wow, this looks truly … is completely … perfect … amazing.’ I am so taken aback by the romance of the vision before my eyes, I can barely articulate the words.

‘Stunning Jeremy, absolutely stunning.’ I glance around the bathroom, which has been transformed into a fairyland by sparkling tea lights. The smell is intoxicating but not overwhelming, with scents of lavender and jasmine, perhaps a hint of freesia — all my favourites. How could he remember such intimate details about me after so long? I feel delightfully light-headed with the whole experience he is creating for me.

‘Enjoy, it has been a big day for you. Now it is your time to relax.’

He gently raises my hands to his lips, places a light kiss on each and removes himself from the bathroom. Leaving me to stare in wonder at my surroundings. I carefully undress, slipping off my high heels, stockings, and skirt, finally unbuttoning my shirt. I slowly unclip my bra, remove it from my breasts and allow my underwear to fall to the floor. I don’t want to disturb the scene with any rushed movements. I can’t wait to soak my body in that gorgeous, steaming, aromatic bath. As I lower my body into it, my tension automatically starts to ease. There is nothing I love more than a bath at the end of a big day, and this day has certainly been full of unexpected surprises. As I melt further into the deep milky water, I notice it isn’t just my body that is tired, but I have been in an emotional whirlwind most of the day as well. I am very grateful to have some time alone to just relax and attempt to quieten my mind. I release a long sigh. As my body stretches out in the depths of the bath, tranquillity surrounds me. Exactly what I need, I close my eyes and let all thoughts dissipate from my mind … Pure bliss …

I’m not sure whether I drift off to sleep but I barely notice a soft ripple in the water, which is not enough to disturb my relaxing sensation and I keep my eyes closed until I feel a hand raise my foot from the bottom of the bath to commence a slow and steady massage. I open my eyes and I am stunned by the sheer audacity of the vision in front of me.

‘How did you? When did you?’ I stammer.

‘Shhh, just relax. You look so peaceful. I don’t want to disturb you, I want to add to the experience, not detract from it,’ Jeremy says gently, quietly.

‘But, but, you’re actually in the bath!’ I am astonished.

Or am I? Is it such a shock that Jeremy would smoothly glide into a bath with me? Many years ago it was a very common occurrence and would not have been a shock at all. And if I am truly honest with myself, what was I expecting this weekend to bring? The memories floating around in my head are very different from the reality I am now experiencing. The present has far greater repercussions than the past we once shared. I am completely confused.

My surprise eases into a dreamlike haze with the aroma infiltrating my nostrils and brain, mystical steam entwining our bodies. Jeremy’s foot massages were to die for and their intensity hasn’t diminished over the years. Indeed, quite the opposite. His magic fingers work deeper into the soles of my feet at the other end of the bath. I relax my head back on the inbuilt cushion and let out a long sigh, succumbing to the experience. Who was I kidding?

‘That’s right, sweetheart, just let go … Stop fighting so hard. I will take care of everything.’

Although Jeremy is a massive physical presence, there is still plenty of room in the bath for both of us. It could perhaps fit three or four people, but I don’t want to think about that. As my other foot completely dissolves as well, releasing all pressure points under his meticulous touch, I barely notice that I am sliding effortlessly toward him. I am cradled between his legs in this exotic bath where the water between us is now a perfect temperature for two.

I’m in a complete state of lethargy given the heady combination of champagne, the heat of the bath, the candles, the aroma, now the foot massage. I can barely raise my voice in protest, let alone a limb.

Jeremy gently washes the length of my arms with a small velvet cloth, then my chest, slowly and carefully. I notice we are breathing in unison, and the water leisurely rises and falls as we inhale and exhale together. That is, until his hand begins to caress my breast. I tense as his fingers lightly flutter over my nipples, teasing them to attention. They instantly oblige. Once he achieves this desired result, he continues to massage my breasts in the fullness of his hands. My breath becomes short and my pulse quickens. I can no longer deny the impact his touch has on my body. I hear a sigh being released before I recognise it as mine; it is a strange sensation, as it seems to escape from my body without notice or warning. Was I already this out of control?

‘That’s better,’ I hear him say. ‘Not so scary after all, is it?’

‘Is this how you want to make me feel?’ I reply breathlessly, as his hands continue on their quest.

‘How are you feeling?’

If I had been in a more stable mental state, I should have known that question was coming. I knew he would expect an answer.

I think about it and answer him honestly. ‘On edge, intense, relaxed, incoherent, pleasured … all of these words come to mind … and my body seems to be relieving my mind of its duties.’

‘Hmm, yes, that is almost exactly how I want you to feel. Do you like it, this feeling?’

‘I think so, but I may have to get back to you on that one.’

His lips caress the nape of my neck as his fingers weave and explore further down my body, past my belly and linger between my thighs. The dull ache between my legs is now swelling with the anticipation of more.

The room becomes hazy as I melt into his touch, his body still firm, smooth with a comforting sprinkling of hair. My body responds fervently to every caress. Just as he is about to arrive at the desired destination, his fingers pause, linger.

‘Doctor Blake, can I ask you something? I’d really appreciate your professional opinion.’

‘Sure,’ I try to say as calmly as my shortened breath allows. I can’t quite believe he has chosen this precise moment to have a ‘professional’ conversation. My heart pounds in unison with the throbbing ache between my legs.

‘Great, thanks.’ He sounds pleased with himself.

‘You see, I have a beautiful woman staying with me for the next forty-eight hours.’

I moan in disbelief as he continues. ‘We are staying in the penthouse suite of the best hotel in Sydney. She’s as sexy as hell and I don’t want to waste a moment of the time we have together.’

‘I’m sure you wouldn’t waste a second, Jeremy! What’s the problem specifically?’ I roll my eyes as I try to make my voice sound as even as possible, which is essentially impossible given his carefully orchestrated strokes. I try to respond as if I’m going along with his game, but hope he will also move the conversation along a little faster.

‘Well, you see, she finds it difficult to switch off. I don’t think she will fully immerse herself in the experience I want to give her this weekend. A once-in-a-lifetime experience, mind you.’

I try to manoeuvre to put some space between us so I can see his face. However, he has me in a position where I am firmly anchored between his legs. One of his arms is around my chest and the other underneath my arse, between my legs, all the while his fingers, playing, teasing, caressing … God, I had forgotten just how good he is at this. He tightens his grip when he senses my attempt.

‘She says she will,’ he continues rhythmically, ‘but you see, I know her well. I know that what I am proposing goes against her nature, potentially even her values, and that’s why it is so difficult for her to let go, even though I know she deeply wants to experience what I can offer her.’

As he continues his controlled, even monologue, his finger work intensifies below.

The strength of his grip remains unrelenting.

His smell, his touch, his words, I’m delirious.

I must be dreaming; this can’t be happening in real life, can it?

‘And then I attend a lecture this afternoon given by some professional psychologist, Doctor something or other, in the hope that she would give me some ideas, you know, to help solve my problem. By the way, you should meet her, I think you’d like her,’ he adds offhandedly.

Oh, he is enjoying this! I am in no position other than to play along.

‘And did she?’ I almost squeak out as I groan inwardly, unsure of whether the sound derives from frustration or pleasure. Either way, I am utterly lost in his hands, his words.

‘Yes, in fact she did, so I’m going to follow her advice.’

Additional fingers join down below and now the other hand is pinching and pulling at my nipples as if commanding my body to attention rather than my mind. His touch intensifies as my nipples and loins throb in unison. The motion of his movement makes me weightless against him in the bath. As the water is cooling, I am heating up like a steaming kettle hanging over an open fire.

‘So, I have decided I should remove one of her senses this weekend. The doctor’s empirical research assures me that this would achieve two things. Firstly, significantly heighten all her other senses, which can only be a good thing given what I’m talking about, don’t you think?’

He pauses.

I can’t respond. I am unable to focus on his words any longer.

‘And secondly, that her experience would therefore exponentially increase beyond all preconceived boundaries and perceptions. I couldn’t believe it, all my problems had been solved by this incredibly insightful woman.’

I gulp, gasp, perhaps even choke, at his words. He tweaks and teases my nipples as if testing their elasticity, causing my back to arch in synchrony.

He continues, almost lost in his own words. ‘I have considered the five senses and finally decided on the one that was the basis of her research, which will definitely have the greatest impact.’ With his other hand, he probes the inner depths of my vaginal passage, gently and carefully massaging, purposefully avoiding the area in greatest need of his touch. Precision fingers.

I am way beyond a deer caught in headlights; I am now loaded and strapped to the roof of the car. Damn him for doing this to me. Damn my body for responding! My breathing becomes uncontrollable, while I am held captive by the intoxicating spell of his knowledge and experience.

‘You see, she is a highly visual person and I honestly believe if she lost this sense …’

I can’t hear his words any more. My breath is shallow and swift as I desperately attempt to secure more oxygen into my lungs, into my brain. His fingers come to a standstill.

I am going to hyperventilate.

‘God, Alex, you have become even more acutely attuned to physical touch, if that’s even possible. Sensations are rippling through your body. It is really distracting me from my conclusion.’

I am distracting him? Insane!

The pause is long enough for me to breathe again. Not long enough to prevent his words, nor his intentions.

‘Therefore, all she needs to promise is two things. To relinquish her vision for the weekend and not ask any questions for the next forty-eight hours. A weekend that will exceed all expectations; break through her preconceived boundaries. A truly sensational experience that I have no doubt she will love … so obvious in hindsight, I’m disappointed I didn’t think of it myself …’

His voice wanders off and his breath is hot in my ear as his tongue tickles and his teeth nibble my lobe. His fingers are relentless in their mission, penetrating, but falling short of securing the relief I urgently desire. My body prepares to explode. Then his voice registers in my ear with profound clarity.

‘Alexandra, promise me this, right now.’ His words are strong, deliberate. My body is quivering in anticipation. ‘It’s simple. No sight. No questions. Forty-eight hours.’

I have too many feelings and emotions to fully comprehend my circumstances. My brain, my body, my heart are all focused on one thing and one thing only — release! I’m not sure whether I love or hate that he can do this to me, has always been able to do this as no one else has. I always feel so helpless, so dependent on his next move. It’s as if my body renders my mind irrelevant.

‘Promise me.’ The deep low voice penetrates my haze, my stupor.

Oh god, my throbbing lust becomes agonising as the room starts spinning. It is too hot for me to handle, heat erupting from within, steam billowing around me. I try to thrust my hips forward to create friction where I so urgently need it to relieve the intensity he has so cleverly masterminded. I am physically prevented from doing so. My jolting movement hardens his resolve, his body strengthening its grip around mine.

‘Promise me, right now.’ The strong voice sends its final command.

‘Whatever. I, I, prom—’ I can’t manage to complete the words as they stutter out in a tangle. ‘Ohhh god,’ I sigh. He is relentless!

‘LOUDER.’ His voice booms into my ear like a tribal drum quickening its pounding beat …

‘I promise,’ I pant. ‘I promise.’ I sigh. ‘I’ll do whatever you want … this weekend. Whatever, just …’

At these words, his fingers plunge deeply into my vagina sending me into the orgasm my body so frantically, so desperately, so completely desires. A primal scream escapes me …

‘Thank you, sweetheart, problem solved.’ I hear a seductive, distant whisper in my ear.

He finds the sweet spot of my clitoris, which sets alight a new series of convulsions that milk my juices for all they are worth, while pinioning me through relentless spasms of mindless release. Without considering for a second the implications or consequences of the words that have just escaped me, I greedily allow myself to pass through the gates of pleasure he has so carefully constructed, then guarded, then ultimately controlled.

***

I’m not sure how long I have been in my own faraway world when I drift back to reality. I notice my skin is starting to wrinkle prune-like, so some time must have passed. I slowly float back to consciousness.

‘Are you okay? You were amazing.’ I hear the wonder in his voice. Ah, yes, in Jeremy’s arms, in the bath. That’s where I am, becoming fully aware. I am soft and full and voluptuous, still floating in a decadent haze of delirium.

‘Mmm … I’m wonderful, how are you?’

‘Let’s get you out of the bath before you catch a chill.’ He steadily lifts me up and out of the bath and wraps a towel around my shoulders. It is thick and soft and I embrace its warmth.

As he stands behind me with his arms wrapped around me, we face each other in the reflection in the mirror. Seeing him like this, our height difference appears exacerbated and for some reason, I wish I were wearing high heels to compensate for the disparity between us. I am acutely aware of his nakedness behind me, which makes me literally weak at the knees.

He slowly unravels the towel as our eyes maintain contact in the mirror and lets it drop leisurely but deliberately to the floor. I am left staring at our naked forms in the mirror. His eyes are rapturous. We say not a word but regard one another with a deep sense of lust and history that has become more astonishing and complex over the years than we ever could have imagined.

‘You are even more breathtaking than I remember.’ Jeremy finally breaks the silence.

‘You have always been and continue to be too beautiful, Jeremy,’ I say, not wanting to acknowledge his comment.

‘Alexa, open your eyes, and really look at yourself.’ He notices I am trying to look anywhere but at my own reflection. He steps us closer toward the full-length mirror so I have no option but to be face-to-face with myself. Sometimes it is a wonderful thing that others see differently to what we see of ourselves. Interestingly, I find myself looking for any obvious signs of childbirth. It’s strange that I have never had that thought before this moment. Thankfully, the light is good to me. As these thoughts flitter through my mind, Jeremy clasps my hands together and lifts them from my side to high above my head, lifting me slightly off my heels. Bending my arms backwards so my elbows are the highest point in the mirror, there is nothing obstructing my face as my body rests against his. Jeremy is utterly irresistible in this erect, virile form. The sight of both of us standing naked before the mirror, embraced by candlelight, becomes more sensually heightened and more emotional than I could have ever imagined.

The electricity between us is palpable. It fascinates me, this closeness, this intimacy and I allow myself to linger at the image before my eyes. What a remarkable exercise, staring at each other like this, I think, taking a professional perspective. Instead of it being something to avoid at all costs, the intensely erotic nature of our steaming bodies in the mirror emanates sexual energy, even more so as I am still reeling from a delectable orgasm.

‘I want you to capture this moment in your memory. Take a moment to understand and absorb how much beauty is within you. Your flushed cheeks. Your buoyant, full breasts. Your glistening thighs. Your eyes, wild with lust and desire. Remember this is who you are, an infinitely sexual and sensual creature. I have never desired anyone as much as I have you.’

I can feel the intensity of the truth in his words as much as I feel his manhood swelling thickly behind me.

I barely recognise my reflection in the mirror.

Who am I?

Time stands still.

The moment is utterly intoxicating, breathtaking.

I can’t say how much time has elapsed between these moments and when he eventually releases me to wrap the towel around my shoulders.

‘I need to organise a few things and it is probably best if you have some space. Take your time; you’ll notice the cupboards are well stocked. I have a surprise waiting for you out here, when you are ready.’ Jeremy kisses the inside of my wrist and closes the bathroom door behind him. My stomach once again makes its presence felt in my body, as does the heat between my legs and my swollen breasts. How does he do this to me?

I steady myself, placing both hands on the cold marble of the basin bench. I stare at the mirror, looking directly at my face, into my eyes. My body feels energetic, euphoric. I can’t remember a time I felt this physical and alive. My mind is desperately trying to maintain balance and perspective. What am I doing? Unfortunately, my body appears to be the weightier component as I let out a surrendering sigh and embrace the fullness of the moment.

Jeremy was right about the bathroom being well stocked; once again his memory for detail is astounding. Little handwritten notes scattered here and there, Jo Malone perfume — one beautifully designed large bottle of my favourite fragrance blend, with enough room to add any finishing touches from the collection of smaller bottles. Body lotion that my skin devours so quickly, I indulgently allow myself a second helping. Yves Saint Laurent make-up bag with foundations, concealer, eyeliner, lipsticks, lip liners, mascaras, all in hues complementary to my skin tone — everything I could need for the weekend and more. Wow. I decide to let myself go a little crazy and enjoy all of them, thinking how much fun it is, like being in cosmetic boutique heaven and helping myself to anything from the skin care and cosmetic range. I let out enthusiastic little yelps as I open boxes, experiment and test an array of gorgeous products featured regularly in high end glossy magazines but never before seen on my bathroom shelf.

I must have been lost in my own cosmetic wonderland for quite some time when I hear a light knock on the door.

‘Alex, you are still alive in there, aren’t you?’ Jeremy’s voice softly permeates my hedonistic atmosphere.

‘Oh, yes, ah, sorry, I can’t believe all of this. When did you have time? How did you know? I mean, well, it has been so long … This is absolutely amazing, I feel like a child opening all of my favourite presents …’ My words tumble over the top of each other.

‘Questions, questions,’ he says with a chuckle, although I detect an undertone of threat in his voice, which stops me dead.

My thoughts immediately drift back to his words in the bath, the promise I made in a moment of weak, lustful desire. The hair on my skin automatically stands on end; my posture straightens like a cat tensing to sense imminent danger. What was it he was talking about in the bath? He wasn’t really serious, was he? Wanting me to be blind for the weekend and something about questions? Surely we’re too old for such silly games. Aren’t we? My intuition doesn’t help my apprehension as my mind instantly conjures up the memory of the first and only time I tried to get out of a promise with Jeremy back in our university days. Strangely, in hindsight, I am vague on the details of the promise itself; however, the consequences were embarrassingly clear.

‘So, you are absolutely positive you are going to renege on our agreement?’ Jeremy asks incredulously as he towers above me. We are in the quad at uni, just outside the Great Hall. I nod. The next second, he hauls me over his shoulders, grabs my ankles and slides me down his back. I am left dangling upside down, looking out toward everyone behind me.

‘Put me down, you embarrassing bastard!’ I scream, flapping around, trying to haul myself up. ‘You can’t do this, it’s pure brutality. Put me down!’ I scream louder.

‘I can and I will, until you follow through on your promise.’

People are looking at me, laughing. Everyone knows we are best friends and are just mucking around. My T-shirt is down around my shoulders thanks to gravity and I quickly hold it up so I’m not giving everyone a free bra show. I try to bash him with one hand and hold my T-shirt with the other. Thank god I have jeans on. Jeremy starts walking off.

‘What are you doing? This is insane!’

It is difficult to project my voice as loudly as I’d hoped given I am bouncing along behind his legs, upside down. I am completely incensed. He casually chats to others as we proceed along the corridor as if there is nothing unusual about me being slung over his body. His friends have a little chuckle as he informs them he is just giving me a lift to my next lecture. If I could, I would really hurt him very badly right now. Blood is rushing to my head by the second, making me look like a ripe tomato.

We arrive at the lecture hall and he carefully lowers me down on to a seat in the front row. He acknowledges the Professor behind his lectern, as if everything is in perfect order. He bends down to where he has placed me, holding my hands together and says with a smile, ‘I’ll pick you up after the lecture.’

‘You can’t be serious.’ I almost spit the words at him.

‘Oh, indeed I am, Miss Alexandra.’

I give him my best death stare as I hear the Professor say, ‘Right, well, let’s get started, we have a lot to cover today.’

With that Jeremy plants a kiss on my cheek, releases my hands and waves goodbye. I am so deeply embarrassed that I sink as low as I can into the seat, not willing to make eye contact with anyone. As I move my feet, I notice my bag resting underneath the same seat I had been delivered to. Nothing like advance planning.

I can’t concentrate one bit on the lecture. Instead I am fully preoccupied, focusing on firstly, avoiding Jeremy and secondly, revenge. How dare he do that to me? I scribble a note to a friend asking if I could have her notes for the rest of the lecture. I decide making an early escape would be the safest option, just in case he was serious about ‘picking me up’ afterwards. Fifteen minutes before the end, I slide out of my seat as discreetly as possible. I move silently toward the back door, which I think is my safest option. As I walk out and glance around the empty hallway, I secretly congratulate myself for out-manoeuvring Jeremy. I start walking determinedly down the corridor, furious with him, absolutely steaming. As I gather speed and lengthen my stride, my legs suddenly fall from underneath me so fast it temporarily winds me.

‘What the—’ I exclaim.

‘Hey, gorgeous, you didn’t really think I’d fall for that, did you?’

Jeremy scoops me up into exactly the same position as before. Where the hell did he come from? He carries me by the ankles, over his shoulders all the way to the cafeteria. Blokes are clapping and cheering all the way, congratulating him for being a real man. I am seething, to say the least. He deposits me on a chair and holds me with a firm grip around my shoulders and wrists. He knows too well I will run the second he lets go of me. I stare scathingly at his mates positioned around the table, all with smirks on their faces though their eyes pretend to look elsewhere around the room. Patrick and Neil arrive and place a tray in front of me — presumably my lunch has been pre-ordered so Jeremy has no reason to take his hands off me. Their giggles leave me with no doubt they think this situation is highly amusing. He senses me waiting for any opportunity.

‘Don’t try it, AB, it will only get worse for you very quickly.’

‘And exactly how long do you think you can keep this up, Jeremy?’ My voice is icy.

‘Exactly the same amount of time it takes for you to keep your word, my friend,’ he states. And damn it, he is true to his word.

This ‘carry on’ continues for the rest of the day. Eventually the thought of being hauled like a sack of potatoes and deposited into my last tutorial for the day and favourite subject, ‘The psychology of sensation and perception’, is too much for me, given it is a small class of twelve.

‘Okay, enough, Jeremy. No more. I have learnt my lesson. You win.’ He places me gently on the ground, the right way up.

‘I’m so pleased you have come to your senses, AB. I’m sure you didn’t want to experience what I had planned for you tonight.’

‘God, you are a relentless force!’

‘Not to be reckoned with I agree, although I’d rather define it as “persistent when required”.’

‘Whatever, I just need to get to class.’ I try to fob him off.

‘You’re sure you don’t need a lift? My legs move faster than yours.’ The smile on his face is so cheeky I can’t help but laugh at his cuteness even though I’m trying hard to appear disgruntled.

‘Very funny indeed. Goodbye!’

The memory is so clear, so strong, it’s as if it had only happened yesterday. Where did that come from? I haven’t thought about anything like that in years, decades even. I shake my head in an attempt to dislodge the past from my thoughts and remove any potential significance it may hold.

***

‘Do you think you might be ready any time soon?’

‘Yes, absolutely.’ Relief rushes over me. He didn’t mention anything about my promise, thank goodness. I quickly scoop all the packaging together into one of the bags and carefully place the lids back on the jars. I’m particularly careful with the perfume as the scent is truly gorgeous and I’d love to take it home with me.

‘I’ll just dry my hair and be out in a minute.’ I locate the hair dryer, flip my hair over my head and quickly blow-dry the damper parts underneath. It is wavier than usual, but I decide to leave it out anyway, hanging just below my shoulder blades. My face and body are glowing and I can’t help but smile back at the person grinning at me in the mirror. Nothing like a five-star hotel, French champagne, an orgasm sent from heaven in a luxurious bath and every beauty product under the sun to make a woman feel utterly pampered, at least for a while. I grab a giant, thick bathrobe (they never seem to be made for the average size woman), wrap it all around me and then some, before stepping out from my confined euphoria of the bathroom into the cool elegance of the hotel suite, and Jeremy’s arms.

‘You look excited,’ he says as he squeezes me tight.

‘I feel as guilty as sin in a wonderfully decadent way.’ I return his embrace and the passion in his eyes leaves me momentarily breathless.

‘Come here, you, time to feel a little more decadent. I want to show you something.’

His arm drapes over my shoulders and he steers me quickly through the master suite and into the walk-in robe. We are like young puppies finding a basket of new toys to play with. I gasp when we come to a sudden stop. A grin explodes on his face.

‘I have always wanted to do this, Alex, but wasn’t brave enough at uni. Would you wear this dress for me tonight?’

I walk over to an exquisite dress, simple, elegant, sophisticated and the most beautiful colour — deep red, blue-red. It is cut on the diagonal and across the shoulder, leaving one shoulder bare.

‘Jeremy, it is simply gorgeous, I’m … I’m speechless. Why are you doing all of this? I feel like I’m missing something. I don’t understand.’

‘There’s no need to understand. I want to do this, I’ve wanted to for a long time and now I can. Everything you need should be there to get dressed. I can’t wait to see you in it and I’m so pleased you like it. Try not to take as long as you did in the bathroom, or I’ll have to help you speed up the process,’ he says with a grin. I stand motionless, staring at him, then the dress. He slaps me lightly on my bottom to reinforce his words.

‘Okay, okay,’ I reply as I move into action.

I walk over to the dress and run my fingers along the satin; it feels silky smooth and soft. I quickly remove my robe and slip the dress over my head. It slides easily over my body and I’m grateful to find it has a built-in bra that just happens to fit my bustline beautifully. It slithers along my waist with the left side of the dress cascading exquisitely down my legs before coming to a stop; just long enough to tickle my ankle. I find an accompanying box of stunning stiletto-heel shoes that I’m almost not game to try on. I haven’t worn shoes like this since my twenties and I silently wonder whether I will be able to maintain a stylish sense of balance in them.

I have never worn such a bold colour and I stare at myself in shock. The creation is tantalising. The person in the mirror is sexy, confident, alluring. I notice an intricate, antique-style clasp on the bench so I pull my hair up into a loose chignon on the same side as my bare shoulder and clip it into place. Now the reflection in the mirror has an added dimension of unanticipated sophistication. No question about it now, I am well and truly living my version of Pretty Woman, and so far, for me at least, it is better than the original.

I can’t remember the last time I was this dressed up — I could be walking the red carpet at the Oscars perhaps, with a little more make-up, possibly, and a professionally-coiffed hairstyle. After allowing myself one last look at my reflection, so glamorous I hardly recognise myself, I steady myself to walk out into the lounge room.

Jeremy stops and turns toward me. His mouth opens as I enter the lounge room. I desperately try to be the sophisticated, confident woman in the mirror, rather than the causal, clumsy uni student he had once known, as his eyes rake in my appearance. His sharp intake of breath and the open admiration in his eyes tell me that he likes what he sees.

‘Oh my … oh,’ he says slowly. ‘Oh, Alexandra, now I’m speechless, you look … absolutely breathtaking.’

‘The dress is beautiful, Jeremy. I don’t know what to say either.’

‘No, sweetheart, you are beautiful. The dress merely complements your best assets.’ I laugh a little apprehensively at his words as his eyes linger appreciatively on my breasts.

‘It does a little more than that, Jeremy, it hides all the worst … Oh, by the way, there was only one thing you forgot.’

‘Really?’ he asks, sounding surprised. ‘And what was that?’

‘Knickers.’

He remains expressionless.

‘Undies?’ I continue.

No response.

‘Panties, if that is what you prefer to call them?’

I had looked everywhere for them in the walk-in robe but they had all mysteriously vanished.

‘Oh, right.’ He finally seems to comprehend. ‘No, I didn’t forget them, you are wearing everything you need.’

He turns his head, his stare penetrating my eyes.

‘You know I appreciate access, Alexa, at all times. Just the thought of it makes me hot.’

He winks at me and I blush again so hard that the dress and I become indistinguishable.

At that moment I notice several dozen roses in a vase on the table. I have never seen so many together. They are unopened and deep, blood red, exactly the same colour as the dress I am wearing. They are magnificent, each and every one of them perfect. I walk over to study them in detail and inhale their heady scent. I sense Jeremy move as he positions behind me, his breath light against my neck. I am a little taller in high heels so he conveniently doesn’t have to bend so low.

‘Each one of these roses represents the experiences I want to give you this weekend. Imagine what they will look like when they have all fully blossomed, every layer opened up. They are beautiful now, just as you are, Alexandra, but just imagine what they will be, as one by one they explode into their full potential.’

His lips lightly caress the exposed nape of my neck as he speaks. Oh my goodness, his lips and his words ensure my knees almost buckle beneath me.

My voice is slow, breathless. ‘You are certainly well on your way … I can honestly say I have never experienced anything like this before, Jeremy, ever.’

‘You ain’t seen nothin’ yet, babe.’ He instantly lightens the mood with his newly acquired, light American twang.

‘We need another cheers,’ he states ceremoniously and turns his back to me as he starts to concoct something set up on the buffet with some elaborate glasses and lots of ice.

‘Oh no, not vodka shots?’

‘Not quite, but good memory though. Something different this time, you’ll see.’

The tone of Jeremy’s voice and the look in his eyes takes me directly back to one of the most playful, surprising and tantalising sexual encounters I have ever participated in and probably ever will in my lifetime …

Jeremy and I have finally finished our mid-semester exams and we can’t wait for a night off; it feels like we have been hitting the books non-stop for the past few months. Just as we are heading out to the pub a few blocks away to meet some friends for a few ales, a cracking electrical storm hits, resulting in a thunderous downpour. Jeremy and I take one look outside before deciding against going out and settle in for a few quiet drinks and a movie at his place instead. It suits us, as we are both pretty knackered from burning the midnight oil. Although relieved that the stress of exams has passed, we haven’t built up enough sleep surplus to be in full party mode. As we settle ourselves on the lounge with cider and popcorn, Jeremy’s friend and fellow med student, Patrick, bursts through the door, dripping wet.

‘Mate, how’s the storm out there?’ He shouts the words over a crack of thunder that almost shakes the walls. ‘Oh, hi, Lexi, didn’t see you there. How’s things?’

I’ve always thought Patrick is cute. He has a boyish charm, is just under six foot tall with quite a muscular build from playing rugby on the university team. And he calls me Lexi.

‘Hi, Pat. I’m well, thanks.’

‘Come in, mate. Looks like you copped it pretty bad out there, you’re saturated!’

‘Thanks. I was just heading to the pub to meet everyone and got caught in this. Hope you don’t mind.’

‘Not at all. We just decided to watch a movie, couldn’t be arsed going out in this weather so just slothing about instead.’

After we put his stuff in the clothes dryer, he sits on the lounge with us, a white bath towel tied firmly around his hips. His tanned body looks good, tight with muscle from the many sit-ups and chin-ups and whatever else footballers do for training. Oh yes, you can call me Lexi, I muse … He opens his beer and we settle in for the movie.

I sit at one end of the lounge with my legs draped over Jeremy’s lap and Patrick at the other. After our second round of drinks, Pat rolls up a joint. He goes to light up outside when Jeremy stops him.

‘No worries mate, it’s still pouring outside. Have it in here and we won’t have to stop the movie.’

After he has a long drag, he hands it to Jeremy who also wastes no time in sending the essence of the joint directly to his lungs. He allows the impact to settle, takes a smaller drag and offers it to me. When I hesitate, Jeremy encourages me.

‘Go on, you’ve finished your exams, loosen up; we’re not going anywhere tonight and we have the next week off.’

All true, so I take the joint from him and concentrate on doing it properly. It is always so embarrassing if I stuff it up; it seems everyone is willing to offer their expertise on the correct methodology for smoking a spliff. I exhale all air and slowly inhale the smoke deeply into my lungs, resisting the urge to cough and splutter it out. The sensation instantly goes to my brain as I continue to talk myself through the process — hold, hold, hold and very gently exhale. Jeremy removes the joint from my fingertips just before it falls, as my body goes momentarily limp and flops further into the corner of the lounge, feeling comfortably numb.

I have one more drag and that’s enough for me. I’m content in my own little space for a while and I have no idea how much more the boys smoke or what they’ve been doing. My consciousness returns toward the end of the movie to see the boys lost in laughter at something. Not sure what, but it only takes me a minute before I find it hysterical as well. After the movie finishes, some music videos come on and Pat starts dancing around the room in his towel and Jeremy joins in. It is very funny to watch with the strobing lights of the TV and the sound of pelting rain in the background. At least no one would complain about the volume. Jeremy tries to get me off the lounge to dance with them but I have barricaded myself in the cushions instead.

‘No, you two look great up there by yourselves, let me enjoy being a voyeur.’

This sends them into an array of ever more complicated dance manoeuvres that look completely ludicrous given the state they are in. They eventually disappear into the kitchen to return with a tray full of vodka shots. I shake my head.

‘Oh no, not after a spliff!’

‘Definitely after a spliff, Lexi, it’s the only way. After all, this is a post-exam downpour party,’ Pat declares to his own laughter and Jeremy endorses his sentiments with his own hysteria. They attempt to high five each other, but miss. This really does just keep getting funnier to watch and my stomach hurts from laughing.

‘Okay, Alex, down two shots now and we’ll let you stay on the lounge behind your barricade,’ Jeremy offers.

‘Absolutely. You can sit there like the gorgeous princess you are, in your comfy castle,’ Patrick adds.

Pure genius — what a perfect solution. All I want at this moment is the soft comfort of the lounge and all the cushions I have collected over the course of the evening.

‘One?’ I should never have posed it as a question.

‘Two. One for Pat and one for me, then you’re safe on the lounge, for a while anyway.’

‘Done!’ I exclaim as if their logic makes perfect sense.

‘Cheers.’

‘To new experiences,’ Jeremy adds, as we all connect our glasses making eye contact, as was the custom between us.

One shot, down. Second shot, down.

‘Jeez, vodka is strong when you have a double shot like that.’

Patrick hands me some lemonade to help take the burn away. ‘Very considerate of you. Thanks, Pat.’

‘We’re here to serve, m’lady,’ he says with a cheeky, mischievous smile as he attempts a courteous bow.

‘And that pleases me no end,’ I agree with a wink.

I’m thankful they leave me to wallow in my soft, smoky, vodka haze while they continue their dancing and parading around.

When I look around the room again, I notice Jeremy, like Patrick, is only wearing a towel low on his waist.

‘Do you think you belong to a male harem? Look at you both. You look hilarious.’

They do look absurd, but as I watch them I find myself noticing more and more how their muscles move and how firm their bodies are. I flush at the thought of having them in my own personal harem.

Then suddenly, they are either side of me on the lounge stealing all of the pillows.

‘What are you doing?’ I holler at them. ‘Give them back, they’re mine, you can’t, it’s not fair.’

They think this is hysterically funny as they strip me of my pillows and I try to retrieve them.

‘Come on, AB, you’ve been there for ages. The pillows can’t be more important to you than us, can they? Let them go …’

And Jeremy then plants a kiss on my lips, his tongue penetrating my mouth.

I am a bit stunned that he would do such a thing in front of Patrick. I look toward Patrick and notice the same lust in his eyes as there is in Jeremy’s.

I notice too late that they give each other a quick nod and before I know it, Patrick has my legs and Jeremy my upper body and they carry me towards Jeremy’s bed.

‘Boys!’ I’m laughing and squirming as the heavy rain continues belting down. ‘What are you doing?’

‘It’s only fair that you be in a towel, too. We just want to play a little.’ They toss me lightly on the bed. Jeremy unbuttons my jeans and slides down the zip. ‘Lift her up a little, Pat.’

He arches my back so Jeremy can slip off my jeans.

‘That’s it, sit her up.’ Jeremy lifts the shirt over my shoulders and arms.

I look straight into his eyes, questioning, unsure of what to do or how I should be feeling. Or exactly what is going on for that matter. He then pauses and asks me quietly ‘Do you want us to stop?’

‘No.’ I slowly shift my head from side to side. I don’t want them to stop. Who in their right mind would say no to being pleasured by two buff, virile men on a dark and stormy night? Certainly not me! The heat in my belly immediately spreads to more sensual areas.

He unleashes a massive grin. ‘It’s okay, GG. I know you want to play as much as we do. We promise to give you our undivided attention. Just relax and enjoy the ride!’

‘GG?’ This is new.

‘Gorgeous Girl, of course!’

Great, my list of nicknames is growing exponentially tonight.

He then turns to Patrick. ‘You undo her bra and take her knickers off while I hold her in position.’

I can’t quite believe this is happening and am utterly mesmerised by the hot naked maleness surrounding me — completely tantalised by the thought of what might happen next. Is this really happening to me? Apparently so, it seems to be my lucky night! So I let them lay me back on the bed, fully naked, eagerly anticipating their next move, and allow them to play with me, caress my breasts, nibble my earlobes, kiss my stomach, share me, suck me, probe me. I close my eyes, open them, and see Jeremy sucking my nipples. Moaning, I close my eyes again and then open them to see Patrick languidly drawing a line with his tongue along my inner thigh. They explore parts of my body together, then separately and then together again, each finding their own unique ways to take me to uncontainable heights.

For many hours.

And it is spectacular.

My head is resting in Patrick’s lap, still wrapped in the towel as they engage in some anatomy-type conversation that I am not even pretending to follow. He is stroking my hair and fanning it out over his crossed legs as Jeremy lies sideways next to us. Patrick lowers a spliff to my lips and I inhale lightly, looking up at him. Quite relaxing as I’m already lying down, and happy to have a break from the intricate attention their hands and mouths have been giving to my body. I’m floating in both body and mind.

Pat feels my forehead. ‘Lexi, you’re burning up. Are you feeling alright?’

‘Yeah, great, I think, although it does feel quite hot and stuffy in here.’

‘Not surprising.’ They laugh.

‘Let me get the thermometer,’ offers Jeremy.

‘Not necessary, J,’ I say, laughing with them. Patrick’s fingers continue to caress my hair and it feels serene. I take a deep breath and let myself float off into a cloudy haze. I am brought back to stark reality as Jeremy throws my legs over his shoulders, spreads my butt cheeks and inserts the thermometer up my arse, presumably lubricated as it has no problem sliding in. I attempt to hoist myself upwards only to be kept calmly in place on Patrick’s lap as he pins my shoulders toward the bed.

‘Jeremy!’ I exclaim. ‘What are you doing?’

‘Taking your temperature, AB. We wouldn’t want to let anything serious happen to you when we can take necessary precautions. We’re both nearly doctors, you know.’

‘I’m absolutely fine. Get that fucking thing out of my arse.’

‘Just hold still another minute or so. It wouldn’t be good to have mercury leak into your sweet spot now, would it?’

His words, believable or not, ensure I don’t move a muscle until he removes the invading object.

‘Oh yes, esteemed colleague, you are correct. Thirty-eight point five. Well diagnosed. Lucky I have just the remedy.’

‘I do not have a temperature, Jeremy, you idiot.’ I recommence my squirming.

‘Please calm the patient, Doctor McCluskey.’

Patrick swiftly clamps my mouth shut with his thick fingers. Jeremy shifts my arms above my shoulders, which Patrick obligingly pins to the bed with his solid football legs. I groan without much success of creating any real noise.

What now? I think. They must be exhausted. I am.

Apparently not.

Jeremy reveals an ice bucket overflowing with ice cubes that he sits up on the bed. He then ever so slowly works the ice over the skin on the inside of my arms, round and round my underarm, across my chest and then repeats the sequence on the other side. My body begins to react to the sensation of the freezing ice sliding and dripping over my overheated body. As he reaches my breast, he circles and circles, needing new ice cubes as they disintegrate into droplets over my burning skin. At the same time as Jeremy is tantalising my nipples, Patrick has ice rolling languidly over my lips, teasing ice into my mouth and playing with my tongue. My arms are numbing under the weight of his legs, becoming useless weapons of protest. I am thirsty for the ice in my mouth so I let him torment me until he relinquishes each cube down my throat. So focused am I on this that I barely notice Jeremy finishing with my nipples and continuing his mission further south, leaving a small bundle of ice jiggling around my belly button. Patrick doesn’t allow my nipples to feel neglected for a moment and continues where Jeremy left off. I am literally drowning in sensory stimulation. Jeremy begins thoroughly and completely icing my vulva, sending shivers all over my body, until he eventually slides a cube skilfully into my vagina. My back arches instantaneously at the sensation.

‘Please …’ I say breathlessly, to someone, anyone.

Jeremy slides another ice cube deeply into me. The sensation of the frozen cube being pushed into a tunnel so hot sends my body throbbing internally as it tries to reject the frozen, harsh invader biting into my over-sensitised flesh. Before it has the chance, he gently coerces another ice cube along the same path, his eyes completely absorbed with the impact his actions are having on my body.

Just as I can’t take any more of the fire and ice competing within my body, Jeremy squeezes my legs together tightly, bound either side by his and devours my mouth in his. As Patrick holds my head in his lap, I can feel his throbbing erection next to my skull. He repositions himself to once again ice my surprisingly sensitive underarms before slipping my arms out from underneath him and pinning each arm to my side, thereby trapping the ice in position. Jeremy had ensured my mouth and southern tunnel were inundated with ice as his body restricts and limits my movements. I feel like an inside-out igloo. The sensation of so much body heat on the outside and being trapped frozen from within is like nothing I have ever experienced. My entire being ripples with the sensation of freezing and burning simultaneously, ripples with uncontrollable tremors as the heat from my body aggressively devours the ice in my oral and vaginal cavities. The frozen intruders compete with the natural habitat they are invading as my brain becomes numb with the sensory overload my body is experiencing.

I can’t scream. I don’t scream.

The boys don’t release me until I achieve meltdown.

When I do, Jeremy lowers himself to dramatically exhume the diluted juices he has created, wholly and completely. Although consumed with frost, I am wet with lust and desire and erupt volcanically.

‘See, Alex, I have told you many times only good things come from a sincere vodka cheers. Quite an experience, wouldn’t you agree?’

I am too fervently spent to comment.

The strange thing is, I never did find out whether they had planned it that way, or the whole experience just happened during the flow of the evening …

I attempt to dislodge the salacious memory from my mind and focus on exactly what Jeremy is doing.

‘That looks very technical. What on earth are you preparing over there?’

‘Not as technical as it looks, but we may as well make it worthwhile. It’s not like we’re together very often, after all. I hope you don’t mind, I’ve opted for the Hemingway version given it is Friday afternoon. It is a little more involved than the French version and the Bohemian version is sure to set off the fire alarms.’

His explanation doesn’t help my confusion.

He ceremoniously scoops up two frosted glasses of opalescent milk and hands one to me.

I lift the glass to my nose to sniff the contents as I raise my eyebrows in suspicion. It smells heavily sweet with an anise or liquorice undertone.

‘It is the drink of Vincent van Gogh, Oscar Wilde, Ernest Hemingway.’ If this is meant to enlighten me, it fails. Before I have a chance to question him further, he makes a toast. ‘To you, Alexandra, to exploring and discovering the enlightened version of yourself. And of course, to the blossoming of your roses,’ he adds with a mischievous and knowing wink.

I may be wearing the most beautiful dress I have ever worn, feeling more glamorous than I have ever felt, but all of a sudden, we are back at uni, about to embark on some playful, boundary-breaking adventure together — again. I am as excited and apprehensive as a small child going to their first theme park and I allow myself to be swept away in the alluring, mysterious unknown of this weekend, knowing Jeremy would never do me any real harm.

And I know better, for many reasons, than to decline him at this point.

‘Skol.’

‘Slainte,’ I respond, as per our tradition of saying cheers in the language of one of the countries we have visited together. I look up directly into his eyes, before allowing the icy-cold liquid to slide smoothly down my throat, its potency striking alarmingly fast, warming my blood without delay.

‘That’s the spirit, I knew you wouldn’t disappoint me. This weekend is meant to be.’

‘What on earth was that, Jeremy?’

‘Absinthe, sweetheart, the green fairy.’

Jeremy sets his glass down and walks over to me slowly and assuredly. I can’t accurately pinpoint the look in his eyes.

‘So, Alexandra, are you ready to say goodbye now?’ I look at him quizzically.

‘We’ve only just said hello. I thought you wanted a full forty-eight hours.’ The rush of the absinthe permeates my brain as I wonder what he means.

‘It means it is time to deliver what you promised me.’ He takes my hand and strokes ever so gently beneath my palm, his fingers barely touching the skin. I take a deep breath and try to stay as calm and even as possible.

‘You mean to stay the weekend? Jeremy, you know I’ve already promised you that, it’s okay. I will still stay.’ My words sound weak and wasted in their attempt to sound conversational. Jeremy can feel my pulse start racing at his previous words as his fingers are cleverly positioned on my inner wrist. What was I thinking? Trying to fool a doctor. Trying to fool Jeremy!

‘You are toying with me, Alex. You know exactly what you promised.’ He continues keeping track of my pulse as I attempt to look elsewhere, anywhere but him.

‘Oh, you mean in the bath? Is that what you’re talking about?’ He shakes his head in condescension, but still has a smile on his face.

‘Yes, GG, that is exactly what I’m talking about. You didn’t think I had forgotten, did you?’

His words are loaded with innuendo from our ancient past whilst melding perfectly into this present moment. I pull away from him, attempting to put some physical and emotional distance between us.

‘What was it again? I wasn’t fully focused on our discussion at the time. Something about the lecture … senses, was it?’ I say flippantly, trying to lighten the mood, although something inside me wishes I hadn’t asked given his furrowed brow, his silence intensifying the moment.

‘You weren’t serious, Jeremy? You can’t have been. I thought you were just teasing, you know, just wanting to heighten the experience …’ He interrupts me.

‘I asked you to promise me two things. No vision and no questions.’ He pauses for effect. ‘For forty-eight hours. Simple really. Nothing a smart, intelligent, woman such as yourself can’t understand I’m sure.’ My palms moisten at his words. He continues, in a serious, no-nonsense manner.

‘Alexandra, you know better than anyone that I don’t ever, ever joke or tease about promises.’ He looks at me intently but allows me to keep my distance. Oh god, he was serious, he honestly wants to follow through with this. Typical, just when I’m starting to relax and have some fun. Such a Jeremy thing to do, to take the situation to a whole other level that puts me on edge all over again. I know full well that he is right. He takes promises more seriously than anyone else I know. What was I thinking? Making stupid mindless promises, all for the short-term satisfaction of a mind-blowing orgasm. Ah, but what an orgasm … and I haven’t had one for soooo long … And the promise of more is almost too much to bear. Focus! I castigate myself.

‘Well, Jeremy,’ I say in a serious voice, attempting to harden my resolve and stand my ground. ‘You did make me promise under duress and you know as well as I do, that it doesn’t count.’ I can only hope I am matching his language and energy as a last resort at getting out of this.

‘Ah. So you do remember. We have progress. Would you really call that duress, sweetheart? It certainly seemed to me like you were more than enjoying yourself.’ His words are as wry as his smile.

‘Even so, it doesn’t mean that it wasn’t duress. You knew I was in a situation of weakness and just played on it.’ I’m trying to sound convincing.

‘Are you ready?’ he says firmly. Obviously the time for discussion is over.

‘Really? You want to go through with this stupid promise thing? It’s so silly, nonsense really. We don’t need our time together to be like this, Jeremy. It would be so much nicer to spend time together without … well, without … having this tension between us, without playing games. We’ve grown up, there is no need for this. It is just childish,’ I say, my rising alarm giving way to a little exasperation.

His eyes narrow and zero in on mine as he steps toward me. I automatically take a step back; I can’t help myself, as if erring on the side of caution, attempting to avoid the enveloping sense of danger, as enticing as it may be. He continues to close in on me. As I step back again I realise I have reached the edge of the table. What was I meant to do now, run? It seems ridiculous, running away from my best friend, my ex-lover. I don’t want to run and therein lies the problem. I have to reason with him.

‘Please, Jeremy, please, must you do this?’ I say urgently, almost begging for both time and space. He places his arms on either side of my body, wedging me firmly against the table. His body presses against mine, my personal space vanishes and I have nowhere to go other than hold firm or lie backwards on to the table. I feel his eyes penetrate me, seeking my soul with their glare and know I must avoid looking at him at all costs, knowing that if I do, they will bore straight through me and penetrate my inner sanctum. There is no need for him to feel my pulse now; he can sense it all over my body. Like a Formula One racing car driver, my pulse only has one pace — fast.

‘Alex.’ He is close, firm, dominating. I sense his patience is diminishing rapidly. ‘You promised; you know what that means between us. You know we never promise something we can’t commit to, to ourselves or to each other. It has been that way since we met. Our word is our bond.’

The intensity of his words and the force of his response momentarily stun me. I hadn’t anticipated the heated emotion trapped within them. A deep shiver runs down my spine. Once again my mind replays the promise memory again as if on cue, conjuring up the same images as before. I remember his words had a similar tone and finality.

‘You know I am serious, Alexandra, I won’t let this go.’

But will you let me go? Do I want to go? These silent questions float through my head.

I know he is not to be messed with whenever he uses my full first name.

The air between us is thick with pent-up energy, emotion, and anticipation. There is so much I want to say, so much that isn’t coming out of my mouth. Where are my words? Where is my protest? Where is my escape? Why am I still here, accepting this? There must be something I can do. My mind is blank. Could I want this reality? Do I desire it? Is he tapping into something I’ve been denying in myself for years?… Oh no, my own mind has just given him the opening he is looking for.

I continue to search his eyes in an attempt to find further explanation as to why this is so important to him? Why so persistent? I know it is in his character; he has always been determined, always the winner, but why now, what is he winning? What could I be losing? I just don’t understand. He must have sensed my analytical mind switching into gear because his voice interrupts my thoughts in their tracks.

‘Enough! The time is now,’ he proclaims in a booming voice. ‘Make your decision.’

‘Is it really my choice, Jeremy?’ My voice shakes with emotion.

‘It is always your choice, Alex, never forget that. You didn’t have to promise and I am not forcing you to stay. I am simply outlining the conditions if you do.’

Oh, Jeremy, the supreme mastermind.

He takes my hands and gently leads me to the second bedroom suite. I can feel my heartbeating faster by the second. I can’t decipher whether it is due to the absinthe, adrenaline or sheer emotion. I try to twist slightly away from his grip, without success. Oh god, I think, what have I gotten myself into? As my eyes scan the room, I notice an elegant silk blindfold cascading over the edges of a petite, expensive looking box — it is the same colour as my dress and interwoven with delicate black lace. Alongside it is a velvet face cloth, a tiny bottle of ointment and some eye drops laid out on the bedside table. My heart pounds erratically as my feet become firmly planted at the door.

There is a voice in my head screaming Walk away now, right now! Move your feet and run. You are giving him complete control. It is wrong, you don’t want this. You are a mother, a wife. Move, get going. Do not become a part of this.’ Another voice says in three simple words Bring it on! I begin to tremble. Jeremy hugs me possessively. Like a big brown bear paradoxically in love with its prey. My arms fall limp by my side.

‘Why is this so hard for you, Alex? It is meant to be exciting, intoxicating, not make you shake like a leaf on a tree defending against gale force winds.’

His voice is low, caring, caressing. His words sum up my feelings more eloquently than I can describe them myself.

‘Why is it so important that I comply, Jeremy?’

‘You made a promise.’

‘I feel this is about so much more than that, so tell me, please, just tell me what is going on. Why is this so important to you?’

‘Let me have this moment with you, it won’t last forever. I will look after you, I promise you that. When have I not?’

I let out yet another great sigh knowing his last statement is true. We have had some wild times together but he has always looked after me. I feel as confused as any human being on earth. Jeremy is telling me I have a choice, but I don’t feel like I have one — if I want to stay, that is. Is that a true perception or merely my imagination? I honestly don’t know. I am drowning in my thoughts and emotions when I notice a bowl of perfectly formed red apples sitting in the middle of the round table. Strange how I didn’t notice them before, their symbolism being so obvious. For a fleeting moment I reflect how Eve must have felt when being tempted by the snake to eat the apple. Perhaps knowing it was the wrong thing to do, but also knowing intuitively that fate was clearing her path forward regardless of her own actions. Was she destined to play her role in the biblical story because the temptation was predetermined, beyond her control? Or was the choice she made solely of her own accord and she wanted to eat the apple to see what would happen? This internal debate is not helping my immediate dilemma.

‘I’m not sure what to do, Jeremy, I just don’t know.’

Deep down, I know these words are the wrong ones to say to the man standing before me. Nonetheless, his response catches me completely off-guard.

‘I know I’m asking a lot, but remember; it was inspired by your lecture this afternoon. At the very least it will be a learning experience for you and I know you have never turned your back on continuing your education. I know how important it is to you. Think about what you ask your clients and students to go through to achieve personal growth. Is this so different? Except that I am asking you to go through it, instead of the other way around? I’m giving you the opportunity to understand first-hand the impact of lack of visual stimulation, to explore sensory deprivation for yourself, the very topic of your expertise. It may be the beginning of a whole new thesis for you, important research based around personal experience that you may have otherwise never considered.’ He pauses, assessing my response to his line of argument, which is at least thought-provoking. I reluctantly admit to myself that his proposal intrigues me, though I’m just not sure I’m brave enough or have the strength to explore it on such a personal level.

‘I don’t want you to leave here now. I want to be with you, to touch you, to connect with you. You look divine, and I know you believe it, I see it in your eyes. I want you, Alex, and for the next forty-eight hours I want to send you where you have never let yourself go. I want to remove all your boundaries, I want to tap into the essence of your being, introduce you to yourself again. I know in my heart this is how to achieve it. Please, trust me. Let me take you on this journey of discovery. Give yourself to me.’ Jeremy’s voice is hypnotic, my brain and heart absorbing his words as if liquid to a sponge. His charisma, his presence, is both seductive and intoxicating.

I am lost in his words now, just as I was in his touch when we were in the bath together. He leads me to the edge of the bed, lowering me to a seated position. Everything becomes trance-like, tranquil. I feel energised, yet calm.

‘You know I have always loved you, Alexa, I would never hurt you.’ His voice is smooth, caressing my body to relax, for my mind to give in. I nod slightly, as if to say I know, I understand, but my words remain within, unspoken.

‘You know that from the moment we met, I have never met anyone like you and I know I never will again.’ His fingers caress my forehead, his palms settle on my temples.

‘Lie still, Gorgeous Girl, let me look after you.’ The fear that previously restrained me has mysteriously left my body and has been replaced by a peaceful awareness. My body is in a serene state while my mind is dependent on Jeremy’s every word. I’m not sure I could lift myself from the bed even if I tried at this moment.

‘Will you let me do this now?’

I feel my head nod slightly.

‘You won’t fight against me?’ My head moves from side to side. His hands press firmly but gently on each of my shoulders as he slowly lowers my back on to the bed.

‘Look at me, Alexandra.’ I meet his gaze.

‘Are you ready to say goodbye to your vision for forty-eight hours?’

‘Yes,’ I respond softly. As my response enters the air, a tear rolls slowly from my eye onto the bed, perhaps due to the anticipatory emotion contained within the decision I am making. He meaningfully kisses the trace of the tear on my cheek as if acknowledging the power I am granting him over me. His fingers guide my chin upwards, tilting my head back in to the palm of his hand.

‘Thank you.’ He softly shifts the loose hair that has fallen around my face to the side and masterfully places two drops of the ointment into each of my eyes. As I blink, the room quickly becomes dull and blurry.

‘Close your eyes for me.’ I take a deep breath as I slowly close them. I feel a light brush ever so gently stroke the ointment on to my eyelids and they become profoundly heavy. It only takes a few moments for the world to completely recede from my vision as darkness surrounds me.

What have I done?