The Paler Shade of Autumn (7 page)

“That’s a very honourable outlook.” Autumn places her spoon on her plate, clasps Jenny’s hand. “Oh, that’s a beautiful ring you’re wearing,” she says.
A few seconds is all I need
. Jenny’s eyes widen at the unexpected change of conversation, but soon rattles on about how she came to own this particular ring, a simple square-cut emerald.

This time Autumn ignores her words and instead listens to the pictures which Jenny unknowingly sends across. She lets go of her hand soon enough, having received the information she wants—Jenny loves Jet and that love is not reciprocated. It breaks Jenny’s spirit on a daily basis, especially now when she sees Jet infatuated with another whom he only just met. Autumn’s stomach churns and she pushes her empty plate away.
Why couldn’t I have let that go? Why do I always need to meddle?
Her intuition told her what she knew was going on between Jenny and Jet, yet she couldn’t help herself, she had to take a look and find out for sure, only to find out more information than she needed or wanted.

“Jenny. You’re a very beautiful woman both physically and spiritually,” she says.

Jenny waves away the compliment, a coy smile curling her lips.

“I’m serious. You are. But it doesn’t mean anything unless you believe it.”

Jenny shakes her head, forces a smile. “Beauty doesn’t serve any purpose in what I’m doing here.”

“No. I guess not. I just wanted to remind you of it regardless, because sometimes one can forget such things about themselves.”

Jenny nods. “Thanks, Autumn,” she whispers. She picks up her plate and stands. “Anyway, I’ll leave you guys to it. I’ve set up the spare room for you both.”

“You didn’t have to do that,” says Jet.

“It’s no problem,” she replies. Then looks to Autumn. “I hope you don’t mind sharing a room, but we only have one spare.”

Autumn shakes her head. “Um. No. That’s fine. You both’ve already done so much for me and David, I’m certainly not going to complain.”

When Jenny has gone from the room, Jet grins. “Now that was a little cheeky don’t you think?” He taps the side his nose. “I know what you were doing there, pretending to look at the ring on her finger.”

Autumn smiles. “I was curious.”

“About?”

“I don’t like to tell others what I see, but this is nothing you already know about.” She draws a deep breath in and says, “Jenny loves you.”

The smile falls off Jet’s face and he lowers his head, looking at his plate for a long moment. “I know,” he says eventually. “And, as I told her, I think she’s an incredible woman, but I can’t force myself to feel that way about her.”

“I know. I got the story from Jenny loud and clear. I’m not trying to accuse or convince you of anything.”

He nods. “Thanks.”

“Anyway, that’s quite a sombre subject,” Autumn says.

“I agree.” Jet stands. “How do you feel about taking a few of the kids to the music room and bashing out some tunes?”

She grins. “I did see that honky, old piano in there. You know I can probably bust out a few tunes myself.”

“Sounds like a date.”

They gather Darshan and a group of twenty children and spend the evening in the music room. Autumn sits at the out-of-tune piano playing nursery rhymes, while Jet strums chords on the guitar. The other children sit in a large circle ringing triangles, banging drums, blowing recorders and singing, voices raised loud and confident. The children exude a contagious cheerfulness that slams Autumn in the face and has her laughing and laughing, so much her cheeks hurts and stomach aches.

When the younger children are sent to bed, the older ones stay behind and do arts and crafts. Darshan threads colourful beads onto some fishing line. Jet ties the end for him and agrees that it is a beautiful gift to offer to Autumn. Lost in the atmosphere, the moment, filled with such joy, Autumn can’t restrain the tears, moved by the gesture, the simplicity, innocence and truth behind it.

“Thank you so much, Darshan.” She places it around her neck and lifts her shoulders back, stands taller. “I will always think of you when I wear this.”

Jet translates her words and Darshan smiles wide. He stretches high on his tip-toes, kisses Autumn on the cheek and tells her good night in Hindi.

Autumn watches them leave, blinking back the tears, unsure if they are sympathetic tears or tears of happiness. When all the children have left the room, Jet sits beside Autumn on one of the tables and extends his arm around her shoulders. He wipes the tears from her cheeks with his thumb and smiles.

“I’m sorry,” she says, feeling foolish.

“Don’t be. I was the same. They do that, because you know that such adorable creatures shouldn’t ever be allowed to suffer as they have.”

Fresh tears flood her cheeks. “You’re right. That’s exactly it. It’s so unfair and wrong.”

They sit together silently like they did under the Bodhi Tree, but there is a different spirit here: a spirit of hard and harsh reality, unavoidable and cold. Autumn wipes the residue of tears from her eyes with the back of her hand. “Thank you for a really wonderful evening. Who would have thought I could have so much fun in the company of orphan children.”

He gives her a most generous smile. “I’m glad you enjoyed yourself.”

Autumn leans towards him, kisses him on the cheek. “You’re a wonderful, wonderful man, and I really admire you.”

Jet lowers his eyes hastily. He is blinking hard, eyes glossing. “Thank you, Autumn. I appreciate that,” he whispers.

She knows then, remaining at the orphanage is a momentous sacrifice, and it is tough what Jet has to confront on a daily basis. She is certain he doesn’t receive praise too often, nor recognition, and though she intuits that these are things he doesn’t need, he still appears comforted to receive them, nonetheless. She lifts his chin with her finger and presses her lips to his. She kisses him sensually, trying to communicate the enormous affinity she has for him.

Reluctantly he pulls away and rests his forehead against hers, breathing deeply. “Let’s not do this here,” he says. “I can’t help thinking Master Shen is going to walk in and get the shock of his life.”

Autumn laughs. “Well where would you like to go?”

He grins. “How about I show you our room?”

At the prospect of spending the night alone with Jet, waves of sensation begin to ebb and flow between her thighs; she hides a single shuddering breath.

Jet closes the door to the darkened room of the music hall and leads Autumn outside. They tread along the aging, timber slats of the veranda, which creak under every step. Jet’s hand rests on the small of her back, directing her path. The night is almost pitch-black. Only the moonlight and rosy glow from the city lights in the distance cast a subtle light, enough to guide their way.

They veer around the corner to the back of the building. Jet grabs Autumn by the wrist, pulls her to him and, without a single word, edges her back to the wall, his strong body pressing against her. It has been much too long since she has felt the hard body of a man, if ever a man like Jet, who tantalises her so.

She parts her lips, ready for him as he brings his lips to hers and kisses her with an urgency she matches. He deftly caresses her waist, thighs, and pleasures the sensitive path from her throat to her jaw with his mouth.

“I love the way you taste,” he breathes.

Autumn’s body tingles from his lips and his words. She delights in the sensations from his curious hands as they slide over the bare skin of her back and stomach, under her shirt. When he reaches her mouth again, he opens her lips with his own. She has never wanted anything more than to taste those sweet lips and tongue of his.

He whispers in a low, deep voice, “Let’s go to our room.”

Autumn nods, dazed with arousal.

Jet opens the door to the small room they are sharing. She peers at the two single beds, with well-worn yet clean bedding, almost touching due to the space constraints. Other than the beds, there is not much else in the room, just bare walls and an ancient looking wardrobe on the wall beside the door.

They step inside. Jet closes the door behind them and locks it. A pang of nerves, coupled with excitement, shoots from Autumn’s toes to her ears and she is suddenly feeling shy, vulnerable. A tight smile forms across her lips; she is unable to hold eye contact with those buttery gems of his.

Jet takes a confident step closer and pulls her by the waist into his body. “Are you nervous?” he asks, voice husky.

Autumn smiles. “A little.”

He runs his thumb along her full bottom lip causing her eyes to languidly close. “Don’t be,” he says leaning in and taking that very lip between his own, as though it is the tastiest morsel on the Earth.

Jet slides his hands over her body and relieves her of her shirt and bra. She hopes her body pleases him. She raises her eyes to him to seek his reaction. He holds her gaze for only a second until his eyes stray; linger on the curves of her body. His face transforms from a man with some guise of self-control to a man who is overwhelmed by the pleasures she is producing in him by visual perception alone.

He reaches for her shorts button; undoes it, followed by her zipper. His movements become achingly slow as he slides her shorts from her hips, as though he is unwrapping a delicate present and savouring the moment. Her shorts drop to the floor and she steps out of them, along with her sandals. She stands before him naked, but for her sensible, white-cotton g-string and the necklace from Darshan.

“Oh God, you’re so incredibly beautiful,” he says, his eyes lifting from her thighs, slowly to her face. He rips his shirt over his head and flings it across the room.

Autumn’s stomach pangs as she takes in the appearance of his toned chest and arms. Though she felt them earlier, she had no idea of the defined muscles he possesses. His skin is beautifully tanned, flawless apart from a dappling of freckles across his shoulders and a thin tuft of hair in the centre of his chest.

He tugs downwards on the band of her knickers, forces them from her hips. His body drifts down as he pulls her g-string lower, down her thighs, to her ankles, his face now only centimetres from her sex; so close, she can feel his warm breath against her skin. He presses his lips once against her fleshy mound. The sensation, the expectancy, stirs her inside, wets her, readies her.

Jet rises slowly to her breasts. He cups one with his hand, gathers it into his mouth. He sucks greedily on her nipple, flicking his tongue over the taut tip, sending bolts of pleasure through her breasts, to the deepest depths of her belly, and to the ripening crevice between her thighs.

Autumn rolls her head backwards and voices a breathy sigh of surrender, vocalising the newfound urgency of her desire. She reaches for his shorts’ draw-string, wanting to unleash that enormous bulge, unrelenting against the seam of his pants. Her fingers fumble; he helps her and slides his shorts off his hips to the floor.

Jet grasps her hips and leads her to the bed. They lie down, chest to chest. Jet’s body is warm, smooth. The size of his frame, his broad shoulders, long, strong arms, it all excites her. She takes her hand and runs it up the length of his stone-hard shaft from the base to the glistening tip; its rigidity, its size is what excites her most of all. She imagines its firm length thrusting deeply into her. Finally gone are the nerves she felt earlier, in their wake: a wonderful, sexy wash of arousal.

“I want you,” he says, eyes locked with hers. It isn’t a question. It isn’t a plea. She needn’t give him a choice, there isn’t one to be made, and she needn’t use demands as there is only one possible scenario.

She nods. “You have me.”

You have all of me—for now
.

Jet leans over and peers into her eyes, lips slightly parted, breaths deep, eyes looking deeply into hers. He moves his lips to speak but stops, instead he presses them to hers and they kiss. When their tongues meet anew, they both release a sigh; a sigh that expresses how this simple, yet deeply intimate act marks the beginning of something new. Something that neither of them understands, but that each can feel so intensely in their bodies and hearts.

Jet gathers her breast into his mouth and suckles at the sweet tip, swirling his tongue around her sensitive nipple. Pangs of pleasure pulsate through her body. He cups her other breast, rolls the nipples between his finger and thumb. She pushes her chest to him, urges him to take more between those lush lips, those adept fingers.

He trails his kiss down her stomach. “I want to taste you,” he whispers, as he spreads Autumn’s knees wide. He kisses the inside of her thigh; she shudders.

“Please,” she says.

He licks the length of her crevice, over her clitoris. Again. Long, slow licks, from her wet opening to her clitoris. Again. Again. He laps at the sensitive bud, soft flickers of his tongue.

“So sweet,” he says, breath like heaven against her flesh.

Her sex throbs with pleasure, with every lick, with every taste. Autumn’s breaths come harder; her entire body is washed with tingling, aching, beautiful heat. She is freefalling towards the brink with tremendous speed. She lifts her torso, resting on her elbows and looks down at Jet’s head bobbing up and down between her thighs.

“Oh God, Jet. I don’t want to come yet.”

He lifts his head and looks at her, eyebrows knitting together.

“I want to come with you. I want to come with you inside me,” she says.

Jet grins. “I have never heard anything sexier.”

He crawls up the bed until he is face to face with her and straddles her body. He rests the glistening head of his cock just outside her eager opening. Her pelvis uncontrollably rises, tries to edge him inside, but he resists her. He kisses her lips; a guise of restraint, but he doesn’t restrain for long. In a single, swift motion, he thrusts his full length into her; moans as he fills her up completely.

Autumn bucks to meet his next thrust in. His next. His next, until they are moving in unison. Autumn has never wanted any man so much, so deep. She grips his shoulders, holds on tight as she loses herself in his pleasure, in her pleasure. He plunges harder, deeper. This is what she wants. She meets him, thrust to thrust.