A Prophecy of A Beautiful Devil Part 3

      “I love you,” she said.

      “Oh, yeah”.

     “I do honestly.” She took his offhandedness for disbelief that needed convincing. Her voice now had pleading quality “You’re everything to me.”

     His finger traced along her lower lip, while she basked in his baby blue eyes. She kissed the tip of his finger then suckled on the nub. “Prove it,” he said.

    She took his handsome, young face in her hands and began to kiss him on the mouth. Her hands peeled the silk shirt from his hard, muscular body. “Oh, Jarren.”

    They got off from the couch and brought their champagne glasses down onto the rug in front of the fireplace. Jarren was stripped to the waist. Tiffany was in her underwear. She had greeted him at the door in her underwear.

     “How long have we got?”

    “No-one else will be here until tomorrow. You can stay all night – Please stay all night, Jarren”

     He smirked arrogantly.

    Tiffany raised her glass. “To us, darling.” They clinked glasses then drank. They exchanged lingering champagne kisses.

      A flurry of snow blew against the window. It was a week from Christmass. The living room was decorated with pink and silver tinsel. The lights on the tree winked on and off. Plastic holy grew from the frames of family photos. Jarred and Tiffany were right beneath the mistletoe.

     Her lips moved down the body of her nineteen year old lover, kissing his neck, his powerful chest then lingered on the defined stomach muscles. Jarren lay back on the rug. His hands reached around the back of her head, where pins held up her hair, and began to loosen them. She unfastened his trousers while her long brown hair tumbled free. The fairy on the tree, the little porcelain Santas and the family photos on the walls, all watched while she took Jarren’s cock into her mouth. While her head bobbed, the heat from the fire chastised her bare skin.

     Soon after he came, Tiffany gasped in excitement to see that he was ready to start again. Youth, dynamism, stamina. He removed her bra and moved his large hands to her breasts, his mouth to her nipples. Waves of pleasure, like she had never known before, radiated through her. She started to pull down her panties but Jarren, thoroughly in command now, stopped her. He gathered her up into his arms and then began to carry her, as easily as he might a rag doll.

      “Oh, my darling,” Tiffany moaned as he carried her up the stairs towards her marital bed. “I love you.”

    Jarren laid her own the bed. He got on to of her and began to kiss her hungrily and ferociously. Unexpectedly, he stopped cold. He glared down at her.

     “Jarren, what’s wrong.”

    “What about your husband?”

    Tiffany gasped in confusion “Forget him. He doesn’t matter.”

   “You don’t care about him?”

   “No, I don’t- please, darling.”

    “You don’t love him?”

    “No I don’t love him any more. I only love you.”

    Only then did he remove the little, pink lace panties.

   “You’re all that matters my darling. Only you. He doesn’t matter. He’s nothing to me now……oooohhh, Jarren,” she groaned as he pushed himself inside her. “Jarren, I’ll never love anyone else but you again…oh, Jarren, oh Jarren…oooooooohhh….”

 

      “Aaaaaaaaarrrrggghh!” Steven woke up roaring and thrashing at the bedsheets. His hands were clenched into painful fists. Once they had fought off the sheets they thumped on the mattress. His head pounded from the hot blood rushing through it. His foot collided with a lampshade. He tumbled and fell on the floor.

      Shattered, he lay on the floor and listened to the waves on the beach. He heard Tiffany’s gentle snoring. Amazingly, she had slept through his commotion but, from some rumbling through the wall, he could tell he had woken someone in the neighbouring suite. With shaking hands, he switched on the light. Tiffany was sleeping soundly on her side. He looked down at her beautiful profile. His hands began to shake violently. He tried to control them, then, realized with a shock, where they wanted to go. They wanted to fasten themselves around Tiffany’s throat. He fled into the bathroom and locked the door.

   “What is this buddy? Eh? What is this,” he said before realizing he had said it aloud and too loudly. He washed his face in cold water and, then, gave his reflection a stern talking to.  

             What is this? The power of suggestion? Mentalism? Repressed anxiety about getting married? It doesn’t matter what it is, because it’s over. You hear me, Steven, it ends right now, he silently told himself. No more dreams. And if you do have one, you are going to shove it out of your mind the very second you wake up. Tomorrow you are going to fly home and begin your marriage to the most wonderful woman in the world. You are not going to let anything –not that old hag, not your subconscious – anything, get in the way of that. You hear me.

       He stared at his reflection for along time. He went to leave but turned and spoke to the mirror one last time “No more.”

 

    It worked. During the next day, Steven, if anything from the night tried to intrude on his thoughts, exterminated it with all mental energy and extreme prejudice. When, he fell asleep on the plane, he dreamed the usual jumbled nonsense of dreams. He awoke with Tiffany’s head on his shoulder and a big smile on his face.

     “I can’t wait to get home,” said Tiffany, in the taxi back from the airport.

      “You were crying because it was over’”

      “Yeah, well now it’s a new beginning.” She cuddled up against him “Mr and Mrs.”

       The taxi found their street.

       “I do hope the house is alright, Stevie. I did ask dad to water the plants but he’s so forgetful- oh, look, new neighbours.”

       A removal trunk was parked in front of next door. A middle aged couple and two teenage girls had formed a chain to pass boxes.  The woman greeted them with gushing friendliness. “Hiii. It’s Steven and Tiffany isn’t it? I heard you were on honeymoon. Congratulations.”

      They accepted congratulatory hugs and kisses from the strangers, Tiffany with enthusiasm, Steven with a little irritation. They meant well but the family, he felt, were intruding into their special private moment; the honeymoon homecoming, the triumphant return. While Tiffany chatted to them over the fence and Steven preferred to just stand next to her in the driveway and contemplate the house. Their home. He felt so proud and so happy.

      “How long have you been here, Tiffany.”

      “Just a couple of months. We’re not going anywhere. We love it here. I can see us staying here ten, fifteen years.

       “We love it too. We were so lucky to get it. Frank put that TV down a minute. Come and introduce yourself.”

Frank did as he was told. “Hi, I’m Frank Manyon. You’ve already met Maureen but don’t let that put you off. Ha ha. The rest of us are nice. These are our girls, Sara and Laura.”

     “Hi”

     “How are you?”

“Hi”

“Good to meet you”

“Likewise.”

“Wait and I’ll get the other one to come and say hello.”

Steven shook hands but quickly found himself distracted again, contemplating the front of their beautiful house; the life they would make there. He was itching to carry Tiffany over the threshold.

“Jarren!”

   On the sound of the name, the world seemed to start spinning. Steven felt faint.

  “Jarren. Whatever your doing come here and say hello.”

  Steven turned away. He didn’t want to look.”

   “Jarren, come and show yourself now.”

    No, thought Steven, don’t show yourself now. Don’t show yourself ever.

    He didn’t look. He couldn’t look. But he heardfootsteps coming from around the side of the Manyon’s family home and crunch across their driveway.

      “Ooooohhhh. Wow. Aren’t you handsome.” Tiffany gasped in admiration. Steven heard himself make a little whimper of fear. With horrible trepidation, he turned to look. He turned slowly, slowly…

        A ten year old boy was standing in the driveway. He had blonde hair and blue eyes. He was, just as Tiffany had said, incredibly handsome.

      “He is lovely, isn’t he. Everybody just adores him” The mother gushed.

      “I’m not surprised. He is an absolute hunk.” Tiffany gushed.

       The sisters gushed too. Jarren acknowledged the adoration with a little sneer. Only the father looked unimpressed. He rolled his eyes and said to Steven ”We’ve got to keep our eyes on this one.”

         Steven found he couldn’t speak. He could only stand and stare at the handsome ten year old, horribly mesmerized.

        You want I tella your fortune.Isa good you knowa your future.

Jarren saw him staring and stared back. The others moved away a bit, as Tiffany showed them what they had done with their garden. Steven and Jarren stayed where they were, looking at each other over the fence. Numb with shock, Steven couldn’t think about how strange his own behaviour was. He couldn’t look away. Blonde hair. Blue eyes. Incredibly handsome. Ten years old.

       It will nota happen soon but soon you willa know when it willa happen.

Jarren stared back at him. Lazily he looked over this stranger, shivering in summer clothes on a cold day, sunburn down one half of his face. He smirked dismissively, then he walked away. Steven stayed where he was. He couldn’t move.

      The others came back towards him. Jarren’s mother said to Tiffany “Yes, I think while be staying here for a long time too. But then again, I suppose you never really know what the future holds.”

     Tiffany put her arms around Steven. “Right then, my darling husband. Are you going to carry me over the threshold? “

      She was disappointed that he couldn’t. Steven found that he was far too weak.

 

                                           THE END.