Dark Rose

"Thank you, yes." Having given the man a generous tip, Eileen turned to me and touched our glasses together. "May all our dealings be as successful as this, Roisin. You will be returning to London?"

"Unlikely," I told her, "Dominic will probably wish to deal with things personally from now on. He may bring Jinn with him."

"Jinn?"

"His chief of security."

"Oh." Eileen ran a long finger down the palm of my hand and I had a momentary feeling of breathlessness. "That's a pity, Rose. I had hoped we'd be able to meet again." Taking my hand, she led me to the sofa. I sat and she remained standing, slightly behind me with hands on my shoulders. "Yes, a great pity." Leaning down, Eileen pressed soft lips to the back of my neck and I shivered. "I've always had a taste for petite women. My wife stands barely five feet in her stockings."

"Your wife?"

"Yes, she's at home. Knows my business often keeps me away overnight, often more than one night." Forefinger under my chin, Eileen turned my head and placed a gentle kiss on my mouth. "You are gay, aren't you, Rose? I'm rarely wrong about these things."

I nodded. "But you're married."

"That's okay, we have an open marriage." Eileen kissed me again, this time a little more deeply and running her tongue around my lips. I could feel myself melting. Active fingers opened the two top buttons of my shirt and Eileen slipped her hand in to hold one of my bra-free boobs. My nipples stiffened immediately and ached with longing. "That feels like a sweet little mouthful, Rose. Can I see them?"

Without waiting for consent, Eileen helped me to my feet and still kissing my mouth and throat undid the rest of the buttons to open my shirt. " Your breasts are lovely, Rose. And what a beautiful tattoo!"

What a beautiful tattoo! What a beautiful tattoo! Our tattoo! The black and damask roses below our breasts. Our pledge to one another. Our hearts were as one in the sight of whatever God we worshipped.

I came to my senses, pulled back and started to refasten the buttons. I had come dangerously close to betraying my Charon. "I'm sorry, Eileen, I can't do this."

"Why? What's the matter, Rose?"

"I have a girlfriend in California. She's the love of my life. I can't cheat on her."

"But Rose, she's in California and you're here. She'd never know."

"You don't understand, Eileen," I said, "She might not know but I would. I couldn't forgive myself and in the long term that would poison our relationship and might kill our love. I'm not prepared to risk that. Not for a one-night stand."

Eileen shrugged and sat down on the sofa. "This is one for the book, I guess. You're the first woman ever to turn me down." Her smile was rueful. "You have to do what you must. Maybe you've taught me a little lesson tonight." As I reached the door, Eileen added: "Can we part as friends?" She came over and kissed my cheek. "It's been lovely meeting you, Roisin. Now I believe I'll give my wife a call... I think perhaps we have something to discuss..."

* * * * *

When I woke up the following morning, the first thing I did was offer thanks to whoever rules the universe for giving me the strength to resist the previous night's temptation. As I had said to Eileen, Charon might never have known but I would---in time my betrayal would have warped me, sending me back into the depths I'd emerged from and most likely destroying our relationship. I wanted to spend the rest of my life with Charon and I wanted it to remain clean.

A maid brought me coffee with a newspaper. This being The Savoy, it looked as if the paper was freshly ironed. I scanned the headlines and skip-read some items while drinking the coffee. The usual daily fare. Doom, gloom and misery. What's it all about? Where do we go from here? One bright spot was in the gossip column. A hidden paparazzo with a long-distance lens caught the golf-playing President cheating. He picked up a ball in a sand-trap and threw it onto the green when his opponent wasn't looking and his bodyguards had discreetly turned their backs. Another item reported that only the same President could save the world in peril---that had to be true because he was the one who said it.

My attention was broken by the jarring note of my phone's bell. When I picked it up, no caller ID was showing. "What?" I snapped into the speaker. If this was a cold or scam call they were going to get one hell of a mouthful, a classic Dublin tirade of generally pissed-off annoyance. Then I sniggered to myself, thinking Not the sort of behaviour expected of a Savoy guest.

It was no scam call. A familiar voice said: "As-salam-u-alaikum." Charon, my beautiful, beloved Charon.

"Wa-alaikumussalam-wa-rahmatullah," I replied.

"After all this time your accent is still lousy," she laughed.

"Well, your attempt at an Irish brogue still leaves a lot to be desired," I returned, "I can never tell whether you're from the Isle of Wight or the Isle of Man."

"But they're not in Ireland."

"Just goes to show how bad your accent is," I laughed in turn. I was interrupted by a rapping noise. "Hang on, there's someone at my door."

Flinging a bathrobe about my shoulders, I opened the door to a loud shout of "Surprise!" and standing there, phone clasped to her ear, was a vision in a dark-silver hijab. "Don't just stand there," laughed Charon, "ask me in." The tears spurted as I gathered my lovely girl in my arms. "I do hope those are happy tears and not 'fuck off' tears," she said. Yes, they were happy tears but also tears of relief that I had managed to resist Eileen Barter's advances.

I started laughing with Charon, the laughter interspersed with little sobs, and I planted enthusiastic kisses all over her face. "What are you doing here? How did you know where I was?"

"Knowing how much I missed you, Dom suggested that I take a little vacation," she said, "It was fairly quiet in the studio so I agreed. And he was so pleased with your report about the new clubs premises he thought you deserved a small break too. We have five days in London in the suite here. All on Dom."

"That explains why I was given a suite and not just a room. But anything could have gone wrong," I replied, "I could have been on the plane home."

Charon shook her head. "You're not aware but you've been looked after just about every leg of the journey so we knew where you were at all times."

"You mean I was spied on?" I was astonished and then started to get angry. "Followed everywhere by private eyes, was I? Not trusted, was I?"

"Calm down, my wild Irish rose. Did I ever tell you how beautiful you are when you're angry? In fact, you're beautiful all the time." Charon led me over to the sofa and sat me down. "Of course you were trusted. It's just that knowing your past troubles, Dom had an arrangement with the hotels you've stayed in. He was told when you arrived and when you departed so as to be sure you were safe and well. He'd never admit this but he cares deeply for you. In a way you've replaced the sister he lost. Now take a deep breath and give me a kiss." I breathed deeply and kissed as instructed and she added: "It's eight-thirty now. I've ordered breakfast from room service for ten o'clock. They'll bring my luggage at the same time. That gives us more than an hour for you to show me how much you've missed me." She removed the hijab to let her thick, lustrous hair flow freely.

"Stick a 'Do Not Disturb' notice on the door," I instructed, "and then come and have a look at the bath. We're going to have great fun in that."

"Yes, that's quite some bath," Charon agreed moments later, "but how about you show me the bedroom first?"

I took her hand and led her through. The bed was still a bit crumpled from where I had got up earlier so Charon simply swept the coverlet and upper sheet back to the foot of the bed and smoothed the bottom sheet. She started undoing her shirt and then began laughing as if to herself. "What's funny?" I asked.

"I've just thought of something you told me about your Amsterdam days." Between chuckles she added in a fake Germanic accent: "Wanna fuck?"

I didn't need another gracious invitation. I dropped my bathrobe, shed my pyjamas and threw myself on the bed. Holding out my arms, I said: "You've talked me into it. What are you waiting for?"

* * * * *

"Your poor legs." I was lying face down and Charon was kneeling beside me, massaging my back and bottom with feather-light touches. She bent to kiss the scarred backs of my thighs.

"They don't bother me any more," I said, "I stopped caring about them that first time you saw them. You weren't put off by them, you kissed and stroked them and I think that's when I realised everything was going to be all right between us."

"Everything about you is beautiful to me, Roisin." Charon parted my buttocks with gentle fingers and ran her tongue up between them several times causing me to gasp and jump. "The first time we met, you told me later you'd have followed me anywhere. That same occasion, my thoughts were 'I hope this lovely little creature is coming into my shop'. Kismet, Rosie. It was our destiny to meet."

Charon lifted my hips so that I was exposed to her and she began to finger-fuck me. "I never tire of looking at your pussy, Rosie---it's so lovely." Not only did I feel the same way about her honeypot in its nest of dark hair, I never tired of hearing the wet noises I made when my lover was playing with me. She laid down and turned onto her back. "Sit over my face, Rosie, I want to eat you and lick you until my tongue drops off. I've missed the taste of you so much these past few weeks."

"One condition."

"What?"

"That I can do it to you afterwards. I've missed you, too. In fact, why wait?" I turned my back and lower my hips so that kitty was over Charon's mouth and her pussy was right in front of me. As she started to tongue-bathe me, I penetrated her with two fingers. She was so wet that the fingers were thickly coated with her creamy juices. I sucked them and then parted her labia to reveal her clitoris already showing from its hood. Suddenly we both tightened our grip on one another's hips and our licking became more frantic, frenzied even. We erupted more-or-less simultaneously and I hoped The Savoy had good sound-proofing otherwise our cries would have been heard at the Tower of London some miles away.

Panting, Charon said: "Don't stop now, we need to work up an appetite for breakfast!"

Much later we filled the gigantic bath sufficiently to cover us, scenting the warm water with some of the very expensive bath-salts the hotel provided. We were gently sponging each other and I once more gave silent thanks for not giving into temptation the previous night. I felt a tear roll down my face.

"What's the matter, Roisin?"

"Nothing terrible," I sniffed, "It's just that I love you so much and don't ever want to lose you."

"Come here,." Charon folded me in her arms and kissed away the tear-drop. "You're stuck with me my sweet colleen, for ever and a day..."

Santa Monica

This time round I had no trouble going through Customs and Immigration. As a bone fide US citizen with all the correct documentation I sailed through after picking up our luggage from the rondel. I started to look for a cab when Charon nudged me and pointed. Jinn and Danny were waiting for us which meant a nice comfortable ride back to the apartment. Stopping off there to jettison our cases, we climbed back into the limo and headed for The Ascension.

The old, familiar Santa Monica streets came into sight and within minutes we were pulling smoothly into the dedicated parking spot in front of the nightclub. I slid open the privacy window, leaned over and patted the driver's shoulder. "Thanks, Danny, I swear your driving gets better all the time," I praised.

"For you, Rosie, I'll make it feel like we're drifting on air. From what I've heard of some European drivers, I thought you'd appreciate a decent ride."

The three of us piled out of the limo and found a small reception committee waiting for us on the sidewalk. I guess Danny must have phoned ahead. Ellie and Rio rushed to give me hugs and big wet kisses. "Hey, go easy you two, don't manhandle the merchandise," chuckled Charon, "She's all mine."

The two girls, great hoydenish Ellie and delicate little Rio, held up their left hands to show me matching rings, glittering blue stones in silver settings. "Look, Rosie, we're engaged."

I gave them an extra hug. "That's wonderful," I told them, "When's the great day?"

"To be decided," Rio said, "but very soon now you're here..." while Ellie added: "Yes, we were waiting for you to come back. Dom has agreed to walk Rio to the pastor and my folks are coming to visit so my dad can walk me. Jinn is Rio's maid-of-honour and I'd like you to be my maid-of-honour, Rosie."

I felt myself tearing up as I pulled my friend close. Because of our height difference I couldn't kiss her forehead and had to content myself with touching lips to her jaw-line. "It'll be a privilege, Ellie." I'd always said Ellie and Rio were like a pair of five-year olds, not to be allowed out by themselves. Before Rio moved into the apartment to share Ellie's room, she would often arrive at our door and, like a kid, ask if Ellie could come out to play---it could have been taken as a joke but at times I thought she meant it. Maybe they'd grown up a little while I was away. Maybe.

Despite my emotional reaction, though, inside I wanted to laugh. For a start, the wedding party might look a bit odd, what with tiny Rio attended by six-foot Jinn and six-foot Ellie attended by me, not a great deal taller than Rio. Furthermore, as both girls liked to romp around in the nude I hoped the wedding... no, they wouldn't... would they...? My imagination was also tickled by thoughts of what the wedding-night would be like with an abundance of BDSM equipment cluttering the bridal suite. The cleaning staff might find some rather bizarre forgotten items.

Big Tony was there too and I was touched. Normally it would take a major disturbance in the San Andreas fault to shift him from his desk. A huge grin split his ugly face as he took one of my hands, raising it to his lips. "Godmother, you have my loyalty." This play on dialogue from The Godfather was a long-running joke between Ellie and Tony and both gave brilliant Marlon Brando imitations.

I gave his broad shoulder an affectionate punch. "I know, you great lunk..." before squeezing his hand and trying to slip into character "...then be my friend, Tony." My accent was more Bob Geldof than Marlon Brando.

The club door opened then and Dominic stepped out, as immaculate as always in a bespoke suit with dazzling white shirt and discreetly-patterned tie. His lips twitched in what, for him, was a beaming smile. Then he astonished me---in fact, astonished all of us---by doing something he had never done before, a thing foreign to his nature. He came to me, took my hands in his, and kissed both cheeks. He spoke, once again showing there was no end to his unusual abilities.

"Tá tú sa bhaile anois, Roisin dubh," Dom said, his Irish greeting seemingly faultless, "Cead mile failte. [You are home now, dark Rose. A hundred thousand welcomes.]"

I realised that suddenly I was feeling totally at peace, my inner scars fading away, slowly fading away into nothing. I felt my eyes becoming moist again as I reached out a hand to my Charon. I'd been on a pilgrimage to find peace and I found it. But the greatest peace had been here all along. Home. With all these wonderful friends about me I was finally healed, finally home.

The End