Authors: Dee Brice
“’Round this curve you’ll catch the first glimpse of the
folly,” Jason said as if she had never been there before. Which
she
might not have while that other Diane…
“Holy shit!” she muttered, unable to hold it back. “The damn
thing looks like a…a giant phallus!”
As they drew nearer, the tumble of rocks at the folly’s base
began to resemble enormous testicles. She wanted to laugh, but knew she’d sound
hysterical and might never stop laughing.
“Who-who would build such a monstrosity?”
Helping her from the cart, Jason tucked her hand into the
crook of his arm. He leaned under the rim of her parasol and whispered, “You
did, Diane. You had it erected after your husband died.”
His soulful brown eyes filled with mirth, he led her around
the base to a set of stairs. By the time they reached the top she was
weak-kneed and breathless. She bit her lips, puzzled that anyone would pay to
have this monstrous structure built in such a short time. Surely she hadn’t
meant it as a tribute to her dead husband? Or had she? Maybe the phallus was
more like a giant middle finger flipping him the bird.
Jason produced an ornate brass key from his waistcoat
pocket. Preceding her inside, he held the door open, his eyes shining with
amusement and something more she couldn’t define. She glanced around, noting
ornate screens of Asian design—most likely from China since the English were
fascinated with the area and had brought back many souvenirs, including opium.
Black lacquer furniture overlaid with gold accents further accented with
fabrics in red, turquoise and bright-green silk.
When Jason cleared his throat she looked at him, noticing
for the first time that the folly’s walls narrowed as they rose. She thought of
button mushrooms with their bases capped by wide umbrellas. Or, she amended,
looking up and up and up, like a man’s glans topping his shaft.
The interior walls grew pinker as they rose—as if blood
flowed through the strips of glass that resembled the veins in a man’s penis.
Strips that filled with what looked like…
“Tinted water, milady, only that,” Jason assured her,
holding out his hand, taking hers when she was near enough. “You’re trembling.
Not from fear of me, I hope.”
“I’m overwhelmed. I never imagined anything like this.” She
gestured at their surroundings. “It’s amazing and beautiful—in a grotesque sort
of way.”
Laughing, Jason guided her around a lacquered screen with
ornate, carved dragons outlined in gold. Red silk backed it, preventing anyone
from peering through. What lay behind it stole her breath.
Steam rose from a stone pool. An elusive aroma scented the
air, beckoning her to draw closer. What combination of oils had given it its
unique scent? The pool’s wide rim led to another stone pool and from there to
an enormous bed. Carved dragons supported a crimson, gold and green canopy.
Gesturing at the pools, she said, “Those seem more suited to
Japan, the rest more to China.”
“Does it matter?” he asked, his hands cupping her shoulders.
With a gentle tug he brought her back against his front. His erection pulsed
along her spine. Shivers raced over her entire body.
“J-Jason, I d-don’t think I can do this.”
“Take a bath? Sleep for a while? Eat and then sleep again?”
She laughed—a nervous short-lived sound. “Is that all you
want of me, Jason? That I bathe—”
“And sleep and eat with me, yes. Whatever else we might do
is up to you.” He pressed a soft kiss on her nape.
“Even if I can’t bring myself to kiss you?”
His chuckle vibrated along her neck and stirred a need she’d
thought Walker and Adrian had met…and met until she wanted, craved nothing
more. “If you keep your eyes closed, Diane, you won’t see how young I am.
Which, I assure you, is nowhere near as young as you think me.”
Something in his voice made her look at him more closely.
“You don’t want to have sex with me, do you?” Caught between feeling insulted
by his lack of sexual interest and total relief that he didn’t want her, a
laugh burst from her. She suddenly felt lighter, knowing she could give her
love to Adrian and Walker while not cheating on them.
“You are a very sensual woman, Diane. I’d be a fool to
refuse you…were you truly interested in me as a lover rather than as a weapon
to make your true loves jealous.”
She stiffened and shot him a glare she knew would destroy
all that youthful swagger. “I’m not that kind of woman.”
His brief grin infuriated her yet also gave her pause.
She
,
modern Diane de Bourgh, would not deliberately play one man against the other. But
what might Diane de Vesay or—assuming she might have married Walker at some
point in their lives—Diane Mornay do?
Choosing her words so as not to further insult the young
man, she said, “I think you brought me here so we’d have privacy.” She laughed
at that obvious statement, then went on. “Not for a tryst, but so you can tell
me things about my lovers you don’t want them to know I know.”
Jason flushed but nodded. Holding out his hand, he led her
deeper inside the folly and saw her seated. She plumped pillows before settling
against them. Jason knelt across from her, pouring pale tea into small cups.
Raising his, he clinked it with hers in a silent toast.
Diane found her patience slipping. “Once Walker and Adrian
find us gone, they’ll come looking,” she warned. Unless they obeyed the rules
for once and left her alone until Sunday.
As if they would!
Leaning against his own pillows, Jason nodded but frowned at
his cup. Was he reading tealeaves or was what he had to say so horrible he
couldn’t tell her? About to snap, he looked up at her and she held her silence.
“First, I regret misleading you,” he muttered as if
strangling on the words.
“Misleading me?” she echoed. “Say rather you played on my
vanity. Lied about who you are and why you’re here. Revealed yourself as yet
another man who cannot say
I’m sorry
.”
He looked as if he’d rather swallow ground glass. Indignant,
as well.
“I am—” A cheeky grin preceded a rueful shrug. “Regretful.”
“Geez, Jason. You act as if I asked you to say you love me.”
“Which I shall have no problem saying…to the right woman.”
Diane suddenly wanted to find him the perfect mate, but had
no idea where to look. Not even among her acquaintances in her own time.
Smothering a sigh, she said, “Tell me what you are and why you’re here.”
“I’m here to keep Walker and Adrian from fucking—pardon me,
from screwing—up their lives yet again. Yours, as well.”
“Mine? I’m not part of this fiasco. I just keep getting
dragged into these scenarios. But I’m not part of them. Not really.”
“Aren’t you?” With that, he stood and held out his hand once
more.
Wary and off balance, she stood. Refusing his hand, she
followed him to the steaming pool where he paused.
Sweeping his hand over it, he said, “Take your leisure here,
milady, whilst I prepare the next phase.” He held up a bar of soap and smiled
encouragement for her to take it. “The soap is unscented, but finely milled. I
doubt it will harm your delicate skin.”
Finding her voice at last, she said, “You aren’t coming in?
Joining me, I mean?” She waited until he’d turned away before she stripped off
her clothes then slid into the tub.
“Later, perhaps. For now relax while I prepare the next
phase.”
As if!
She’d been in the pool only a couple of
minutes and even though the warm water soothed her, curiosity about his
preparations compelled her to follow him to the bed. He turned, toweling
extended to encompass her in warmth. His body heat added to her feeling so
relaxed she could barely stand. “I have become far too predictable,” she said,
laughing.
“Curiosity is a very human trait,” he countered, guiding her
to the bed.
Something in his voice prompted her to say, “Meaning you
aren’t human?”
With another of his bone-melting smiles, he gestured at his
lower body. “As you can see, Diane, I am every inch human. An aroused and
willing male.” He nodded at the bed.
Slanting him a cautionary look, she climbed up, surprised by
the firm mattress. “Nothing beyond kisses,” she reminded him.
“Milady, we both know you indulged in more than kisses with
my rivals.”
Her entire body blushed, but she nodded. “In truth, we
indulged in everything short of…penetration.” Which fell a little short of
complete disclosure if one considered locations other than vaginal and anal
orifices. “Besides, you took yourself out of the competition and no longer have
rivals
.”
A cut-crystal bottle appeared in Jason’s hand as if conjured
from thin air. “Close your eyes, Diane, so I may begin the next phase.”
“Of what? My seduction? Do you think to break your own
rules?”
He flinched as if she had insulted him and his sense of
honor.
“Close your eyes,” he repeated, his voice and expression
brooking neither argument nor delay. She obeyed. Seconds later a familiar scent
reached her nostrils. “What is this?” His tone demanded she answer.
“Roses. As strong as the aroma is, a highly concentrated
distillation.”
“Very good.” He dabbed it on one wrist, then placed her arm
beneath her breasts. Wafting something under her nose, he asked her to identify
it as well.
“Lavender and…violets, I think.”
He anointed her other wrist and positioned that arm at her
waist. Ambergris and musk followed. Several times she demanded to know what he
intended to do. He ignored her questions—so what else was new?—saying only that
she should relax. Which was difficult enough and got worse when he stroked
something she could barely feel over her forehead, nose and chin, then up from
the soles of her feet to her nipples.
“Can you tell me what this is?” His voice, warm and moist,
tickled her ear.
“N-no.”
“Or this?”
“Only that it feels heavier and…I don’t know. As if it has
nubs.”
“Very good. Your skin is as sensitive as it appears,
responsive to feathers and raw silk. You enjoy being touched.”
Since her nipples felt as though they stood at attention and
she could smell hints of her growing arousal, she nodded her agreement. “Will
you tell me what purpose these serve?”
“Open your legs, my lady.”
Every instinct urged her to run. Yet her mind and body
demanded she stay. That staying would teach her something about herself that
she’d never known before. If she left, she might never know. She opened her
legs. He rewarded her with a sweet kiss to her lips.
“Wh-what are you doing?”
“Nothing.”
“I know that! Why aren’t you doing…something?”
“Because you are in control, Diane. Isn’t that what you
want? What you have always wanted?”
She tried to shift away, but couldn’t. The mattress seemed
to inhibit all her attempts to move. She shoved at his hand on her shoulder,
but failed to budge it at all. Frustrated, she glared at him.
“I don’t know what to do,” she complained, hysteria in her
voice. Her heart began to race as she struggled to breathe. Which only
increased her panic.
“Do what your body tells you,” he advised. “For once listen
to it and not your mind.”
“That’s all I
have
done! Ever since I met Walker and Adrian,
all I’ve done is listen to my body and look where it’s led me.” She looked down
her body to his hand cupping just below her breast. Glaring up at him once
more, she said, “Are you suggesting I use your hand as I would a…a vibrator? Do
you even know what that is?”
His restrained laugh shook his shoulders while the rest of
him remained utterly still. “Even when your body gives you satisfaction, it
isn’t enough. Until you relinquish control completely, you’ll never find what
you most want.”
“You’re asking me to trust you,” she said, sounding
incredulous and dismissive. Mostly because he had her pegged like hops to their
growing supports. Yes, she’d relinquished a lot of control when she had sex—
made
love
—with her men. Yet she’d also held back a tiny portion that allowed her
to, what? Maintain the illusion of not needing them?
Need
equated to her mother and her inability to live
without a man in her life. Was that what Diane strove to prove to herself? That
she didn’t
need
anyone—especially not any man?
A soft smile touched his generous lips, but sadness filled
his eyes. “I am asking you to trust yourself.”
“I do!” He cocked a brow, a smile now in his eyes. Her gaze
shifted to his hand. She chewed on her upper lip, wondering what to do. “I
don’t understand what my masturbating will prove.” And yet, unable to fight off
her own lust, she began to pleasure herself. Her eyes on his face, she sought
approval for what she was doing, but found nothing more than mild interest in
his expression.
To hell with him! To hell with all men.
But that was Jason’s point, wasn’t it? That she could
masturbate until she made herself sore, but it would never feel as good as it
did with a partner. As the pleasure built, she pressed her fingers deep inside
her pussy and writhed.
“OhGodohGodohGod!” she screamed as her body shattered and
the world went black.
Chapter Seventeen
Jason almost choked on the grape he’d just plucked off
Diane’s pert nipple. Walker and Adrian stood at each side of the dragon screen
that divided the folly, their expressions stern, speculative and jealous. With
Diane undressed and supine over Jason’s naked thighs any protestations as to
what they hadn’t done would sound suspect. He admitted he rather enjoyed
holding the upper hand for once, having information neither older man had. If
they knew or even guessed, all of them would be where and when they belonged.
More, he’d confessed something Diane needed to know so she wouldn’t wonder why
he hadn’t…they hadn’t and wouldn’t…
He shifted his legs. Diane opened her eyes and followed his
gaze to their visitors. He gave her high marks for aplomb. She simply sat up
and leaned into the curve of his arm, making no attempt to cover her nakedness.
Not that she had any reason to hide. They’d all seen her without her clothes.
Had held and touched her when she wore nothing but skin and long, silken hair.
“Your Grace, de Vesay.” She greeted the newcomers, standing
to don a silk robe that matched her green eyes. “I hadn’t expected to see you
until Sunday.”
With her slight emphasis on
Sunday
, Adrian had enough
good sense to look sheepish. Walker, on the other hand, seemed his usual
toplofty, master-of-all-he- surveyed self. He and Diane locked gazes. For all
the good that did, beyond filling the air with combustible sexual energy.
“There’s no way to avoid this, Diane,” Walker told her as he
untied his black robe, keeping the wide sash in one hand. “Not if you want to
go home.”
She tilted her chin. “I may have changed my mind about that.
Here
I seem to have power I don’t have in my own world.”
Adrian slanted Jason a damning look. “Couldn’t keep your
mouth shut for a few days more?”
Jason shrugged and flashed a teeth-bared grin. “She deserved
to know.”
“We would have told her—”
“On Sunday,” she interrupted, her voice dripping sarcasm.
“Maybe.” With an impatient toss of her head, she paced to a low brass table
surrounded with plump pillows in jewel-bright colors. Sinking gracefully to her
knees, she lifted tops off covered trays. Steam rose from most, filling the air
with mouthwatering aromas.
“I’m not playing geisha, gentlemen. If you want something to
eat or drink you can serve yourself.”
Slipping into his own robe, Jason noticed they were all
color-coded to match their eyes. He in brown, Adrian in blue, Walker and Diane
in black and green. For a moment he wondered if some nefarious purpose lay
beneath the choice of colors or if the masters of time had developed a sense of
humor. With a mental shrug he joined the others, sitting where he could observe
Adrian and Walker. Diane’s thigh pressed against his. Did she need support or
only warmth? Or was it yet another game to keep the other men off balance? If
that, they all could be stuck here for a long, long time.
With studied indifference each filled a plate. Diane nibbled
on a prawn. Walker and Adrian showed off, each using chopsticks on noodles and
slurping them into their mouths. Jason poured beer into his glass, then leaned
back to await what might happen next.
In the height of bad manners, Walker pointed his chopsticks
at Diane and said, “You’ll soon tire of this society’s strictures.”
Shrugging, she bit into a barbequed rib.
“More,” Adrian said, “you’ll miss sunny beaches and
surfing.”
She laughed. “I body-surfed. Once, when I was sixteen. I
have no desire to spend time on sand. Even without wind, those tiny little
grains get into places they don’t belong. Moreover, I’m fond of my pale
complexion and intend to keep it. Parasols and wide-brimmed hats work for me.”
“Indoor plumbing. Long soaks in jetted tubs,” Walker
countered, his black eyes lightening as he teased.
Adrian stuck his oar in. “Kick-ass stilettos.”
“I guess you mean
fuck-me
heels,” she corrected, a
sly grin curving her lips. She licked off barbeque sauce, raising the sexual
energy another notch.
“Sexy lingerie,” Jason offered, winning a longing sigh and a
full smile from her. Playing this particular game paid back his
elders
for their ridicule.
“Having your books published.” Walker didn’t even look at
her as he fired that deadly shot straight into her heart.
Rinsing her hands, she wiped them on a damask napkin, then
dabbed her lips. “As to that…sales have gone down that indoor toilet I’m so
fond of.”
“You know how to fix that problem,” Adrian said.
They all nodded. Even Diane.
“Lose control. Let my emotions rule me.”
For a long time no one said a word. Then Walker murmured,
“Only long enough so you can draw on those emotions when you need them.”
She chewed her lower lip, her gaze seeming focused on the
fingers clenching then unclenching around her napkin. Everything fell still and
silent. At last she looked up—at what Jason couldn’t decide, but not at any of
them.
In a voice so soft they all leaned toward her she whispered,
“What if I never get it back?” A breathless laugh followed as her eyes glazed.
“Will you stay with me when all I spout is gibberish? Will you hold me when all
I can do is cry?”
As one, they moved. Jason to her back, Walker and Adrian to
either side. They surrounded her, for once overcoming their discomfort with her
tears. For once realizing they had to relinquish their need to protect her or
bend her to their will. For once not jealous of each other as they each gave
her a part of himself.
“Love me,” she whispered, her eyes drifting shut.
As if magic had interceded on their behalf, her body shifted
so they could easily remove her robe. Their own robes soon followed while they
fondled and stroked and caressed the woman they loved.
Diane felt Jason slide out from behind her as either Adrian
or Walker took his place. For a moment panic tightened every muscle until Jason
whispered, “I promised you, Diane.” With that, he kissed her, his lips so soft
on her cheek she might have only dreamed them. Her eyes still closed, she
reached out and stroked her fingertips down his cheek. Silk slid up her belly
to her breasts then to her chin.
“You needn’t blindfold me,” she murmured, adding, “And if I
scream there’s no one but us to hear.”
As if they had sung together for eons, their soft laughter
blended until she could no longer distinguish one from the others. Just as she
couldn’t tell who paid tribute to her breasts while another opened her legs to
stroke her inner thighs and kiss her belly.
She floated on a sea of sensations. Stubble lightly abrading
her cheek. A rough velvet tongue lapping her nipples, sucking the peaks into
his mouth, nipping then soothing. The ache for her men to continue as they were
felt at odds with her pussy’s growing need to have them fill her. Tongues or
fingers or cocks, she didn’t care as long as they fulfilled her cravings.
A symphony of sighs, her own included, added to her feelings
of well-being, along with simmering anticipation. She wanted to rush to the
precipice of climax, then balance at its edge for…forever. Always waiting.
Always needing. Always…
“Ohh.” A moan escaped her lips as she succumbed to tiny
sparks of pleasure in her pussy. A precursor of bliss yet to come.
Not yet.
Male musk neared. A kiss of dew parted her lips to taste
salty cream. Opening her mouth, she licked, trusting whoever’s cock she laved
would not shove it down her throat. Trusting she wouldn’t need her hands to
restrain him, she touched the men at her sides. Soft groans welcomed her
caresses. Velvet-clad poles glided up and down in her fingers, their pubic
nests rubbing along her thighs as they rocked back and forth. Their hands
skimmed her parted legs and made brief forays into her curls.
One man slid down her body and kissed behind her knees, then
up her inner thighs. She wished for another pair of hands so she could stroke
their cocks while holding herself open. Exposing her double set of blushing
lips that quivered with need. Exposing the cream that flooded her pussy and
bedewed her mons’ curls and folds. Exposing how much she craved them.
“…perfume?” someone muttered.
“Collect what remains…once you have tongued her to climax.”
Jason. She recognized his voice. His breath hissed out,
verifying he’d remained at her head.
Head-to-head
, but not in the way
she’d imagined earlier. The thought made her chuckle.
Her gasp melded with more moans as the lover between her
legs touched his tongue to the tip of her clit. She bucked and his lips seemed
to encompass her from nub to channel. His clever tongue darted, stroked,
plunged until she lost control and let her climax claim her. Behind her closed
eyes pictures of wheat fields swaying in the wind roiled. High-rise buildings
tumbled like dominos, an earthquake rumbling in the earth’s core and leaving
nothing standing. Something cool pressed at her channel. Wanting to see what
her lovers were doing, her eyelids fluttered, but she couldn’t fight the
rapture still crashing through her.
They filled her—one in her ass, one in her pussy. The
destruction they wrought as they all climaxed together felt like a death that
left her alive, but unable to think or move for the next century. Perhaps she
would never move again. If this was losing control, she welcomed it. Gratitude
for the gift her men had given her added to her sense of oneness with them. Was
that
what love was all about? Feeling as if you’d touched each other’s
souls, minds and bodies? As if you’d—
she
would know without being told
how to soothe them, both physically and spiritually? As if—no matter how far
apart they were they would feel each other’s joys and sorrows?
Every constraint she’d ever placed on herself, every
prohibition her parents, teachers and bosses had imposed on her fell away. She
felt so light she could walk on clouds without leaving footprints.
Yet she felt her body rise, warm hands at her shoulders,
hips and feet. The weight of her unbound hair bowed her neck backward. Opening
her eyes, she found Adrian smiling down at her. Panic filled her voice as she
gasped, “Jason!”
From his position at her feet, he grinned, saying,
“Everything is as it should be, milady.”
Adrian and Walker all but shouted, “
Mine!
”
As if they had snapped their fingers to create a whirlwind,
she tumbled through the past lives of that other Diane.
Arnaud’s blue-eyed children, now grown, smiled at her as she
spun by. Their mothers rocked grandchildren while a young husband paced a
spacious hallway, his head lifting as a newborn’s cry rang out. He rushed into
a well-lit chamber, his eyes focused on Adrian’s medieval but now grown-up
niece, who smiled up at him. Exhausted yet proud, she held up a swaddled,
red-faced babe, but the new father remained intent on her.
When he stroked her damp hair from her forehead, Diane saw
him through the young woman’s eyes. Black hair, black eyes. William! But not
William who’d not yet been born. William who’d never betrayed such tenderness
or love for anyone.
The images continued to fly by, jumbling and tumbling houses
and animals like that tornado that had swept through Kansas, carrying Dorothy
to Oz. Carrying Diane farther and farther away from her men until they couldn’t
hear her screaming their names. Spinning her, her arms and legs flailing
futilely, then driving her to earth.
She landed with an oomph, tangled in her own hair and aching
in every bone and muscle.
Dread filling her soul, she forced herself to sit up. Her
hands shaking as if the whirlwind still held them captive, she shoved her hair
off her face, then opened her eyes. Sunlight stabbed through the slats of the
plantation shutters on her bedroom windows. Rainbows danced over her hardwood
floors, making her dizzy and nauseous.
Her own bedroom. Her own house in San Francisco if she could
believe her own eyes. A dream, nothing more. All those months she’d spent in
those other times and places. All those people she’d met and grown to care
about. Those three men who’d taught her about her body and a little more about
her heart’s true longing. Gone in an instant. Talk about a black moment!
Returning to her own time was the most horrible thing that had ever happened to
her.
All a dream. Just like Dorothy. Except Diane felt only
bitterness and hated where she was.
There’s no place like home.
What a crock of crap!
* * * * *
A month dragged by, then another. Without Margaret to dress
her hair, Diane had it cut to shoulder length. Almost the same day it grew back
to her waist, compelling her to tie it with ribbons that matched her sexy
underwear. As if lacy bras and bikini briefs might lure her men to her! Yet
another dream and just as impossible.
She thought about telephoning Adrian, demanding to know what
and why this had happened. She did call him once—just to reconfirm that he did
exist in this time and place. Hearing his voice, its tones awash in misery, she
couldn’t say a word. That other Diane’s vindictiveness proclaimed he deserved
whatever he suffered. So did Walker and Jason.
Jason, pah!
He’d promised he wouldn’t fuck her. And
he’d kept his word—at least in a physical sense. But he sure as hell had fucked
with her mind. Claiming he was destined to love someone else. Someone close to
her.
“Not yet,” he’d told her, “but soon.”
What tore her apart was imagining she saw them. A glint of
light on hair with strands of gold and light brown mixed with white-blond had
her following a stranger as he grocery shopped. A crisp British accent on her
car radio made her pull to the curb then stare at a passerby as if he were Walker,
looking…hoping, praying that he would appear. Sleepless nights she paced her
house, peering out her front windows, longing to see Jason riding her
paperboy’s bicycle across her lawn.