Ellie / Jenny:
The next morning, the two of us poured over maps and train schedules. I’d downloaded some travel guides onto my e-reader and at Alexander’s request, I made a list of attractions I wanted to see. Roman ruins, mostly. The Pont Du Gard was not far away from Arles. Nimes had one of the most amazingly intact Roman amphitheatres in the world. Carcassonne had a famed medieval walled fort.
Alexander surveyed my list with an amused smile. “What?” I asked defensively.
He shook his head and stroked my cheek. “I haven’t played tour guide in many years,” he said, sounding indulgent. “Allons-y. Let’s do this.”
We would wake up early in the morning and get on a train, heading to one of the places on my list. France’s rail system was excellent; most places were less than two hours away on the high-speed trains. We would tour the attraction and Alexander would insist on ordering a bottle of wine for lunch, something I was happy to let him do. We would have long and leisurely meals, talking about what we’d seen. In Avignon, I protested passionately over the greed of the Popes in the Middle Ages with their lavish tapestries and their coins of gold, while the peasants starved in the streets. Alexander’s lips twitched. “Why do I get the feeling that I’m also being attacked here, Jenny?” he asked dryly.
But I wasn’t attacking him, not even in the slightest. I’d never been on a vacation before in my life, and I was just enjoying myself. The South of France was a pretty glamorous destination and Alexander was an excellent travel companion, patient and good-humoured. He took me to eat some truly exceptional meals in small tucked-away restaurants I would have never discovered on my own. He made me laugh.
He still worked for Dylan. Sylvia was going to be in Paris soon. I was being an ostrich, burying my head in the sand, ignoring all these things. I told myself I was entitled. One week, I reasoned with myself. Surely, I’m allowed one week of pretending.
I refused to consider that I might be falling in love with him.
In the night, tired from our day of exertion, we’d tumble into bed. Some days, he’d reach for me and we’d make love. No toys, no gadgets. Just hands and tongues, fevered breathing and bodies in contact. Other days, I’d nestle in his arms and fall asleep. It was idyllic. It could not last.
***
On the last day, we planned to stay close to home. I wandered among the fields of lavender, arm in arm with Alexander. In the morning, I had cycled to the tiny village and I’d bought ingredients for a picnic - bread, cheese and olives, and an apple pie for dessert.
We went for a long, lazy bike ride and at some point, we pulled off and dropped to the ground to eat our food. The sun’s rays beat down, but we were under a tree and its leaves provided some shelter from the heat. There was no one in sight, no one around for miles. We were completely alone.
Alexander looked at me wickedly when we finished eating. “Is outdoor sex on your hard-limits list, Jenny?” he asked me.
“Here?” I was shocked, yet intrigued. I wanted Alexander all the time.
“Look around,” he invited. “There’s no one to be seen. Take off your dress.”
That had been an order, uttered in the firm, even tones of my Dominant. I nodded instantly. “Yes Sir.”
Warm breeze caressed my skin; I felt the sun’s rays on my back. I climbed on top of him at his command and I rode him, bouncing up and down on his cock while my fingers rubbed at my clitoris. Each time I was at the point of climax, his hand locked over my and he stopped me. Each time, he shook his head with an amused smile. “I’m enjoying the view too much,” he teased. “You can’t come yet, cherie.”
He had called me bright star in Paris two years ago. I wanted him to call me that again. I wanted him to call me by my real name. Ellie. No man had ever choked out my real name in the heat of passion. To Dylan and his guards, I was cunt or bitch or slave. To Alexander, I had been Rachel two years ago, Jenny now. I was never Ellie and I just wanted to be her.
But I had my mission and this was the one barrier I dared not cross. I could not tell Alexander the truth. It would be the end of my quest for revenge and the end of my life. Instead, I existed in my little fantasy world where he was just a guy and I was just a girl and we made love under a tree in Provence.
When we were done, cleaned up and dressed again, he looked at me with a glint in his eyes. “So, outdoor sex is a yes, then, I take it,” he quipped. “Which makes me want to explore every single thing on that list. Threesomes, Jenny? What do you think?”
It was like he’d doused me with a bucket of cold water. I started to shiver in terror. Sylvia. She was coming back to Paris and Alexander had told her in Bangkok that he would let her play with his toys. Under the terms of the contract I’d signed, he needed my consent for that. So he was asking me.