Unwanted Attention Part 1 The Accident
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An Unwanted AliasChapter 15 free porn video
I met briefly with my supervisor the next day to firm up plans for my intense two-week training program, set to get underway the following Monday. There would be little rest for the weary. I was also shown my new flat, and given the go-ahead to move in at once. It was not a particularly large unit – Wendy's place was a little larger than mine – but it was to be my home for the foreseeable future. It was on the first floor of the building, which was fine with me since I've never been fond of stairs. It was clean, well-furnished, and in a decent neighborhood. And on top of that, it was free. All in all, I couldn't complain.
Around mid-afternoon, I called Michael and asked if he could drop off my meager assortment of belongings that had rested overnight in the trunk of his car. He surprised me by making a detour on the way over to pick up Wendy. The two of them helped me to get settled in; although with only two bags' worth of merchandise presently in my possession, there wasn't a whole lot of "settling" to accomplish.
My kitchen cupboard was bare at that point, and Michael thoughtfully offered to remedy that. There was a good-sized food market within walking distance, and it wasn't long before he returned with a few edible essentials. In the meantime, Wendy happened to catch a glance at a few photographs I'd brought along, resting inside a white envelope with a transparent window. The most prominent photo was a five-year-old shot of Erin and me.
"Is this Erin?" wondered Wendy. I had hoped to find the right moment to share these visual depictions of my past with her, but that opportunity had slipped away from me.
"Yes, it is," I affirmed, giving a short description of the photo and removing the rest of the pictures from the envelope for her perusal. Wendy viewed them with discernible curiosity. Eventually, she came across a large, eight-by-eleven-inch solo shot of Erin, taken at a photography studio in Miami.
"This is a very nice picture," commented Wendy.
"That one was taken two or three months before my abduction," I put in.
She remained silent for just a moment. "Do you have a frame?" she finally said. "Why not display it?"
I was surprised, and not a little touched, to hear that suggestion passing from her lips. I gave no immediate reply, but I guess my facial expression put forth a question.
"We are living in the present, Jake," she continued earnestly. "But we need to remember and honor the past. Erin gave you love and support for many years, and helped you become the man that you are today. I am very grateful to her for that."
Upon hearing that remark, I wanted to take her in my arms and cover her with kisses. But wouldn't you know it, Michael chose that instant to return from his food run, and the tender moment evaporated into thin air. Wendy dashed into the kitchen and fried up some steaks, along with a batch of spicy noodles. Actually, she prepared two different batches of noodles – a milder one for Michael, who didn't share our enthusiasm for fiery cuisine.
"You Brits and your bland taste in food," I cracked; he just laughed in response. Even though I'd met Michael the previous day, I was growing to like him; and I knew he wouldn't take offense to a remark like that.
Dinner was served, and before we knew it, much of the evening had slipped by. I needed to wake up early the next day and Wendy also had to work. Thus did the little move-in party come to an end.
More than a week went by before I saw Wendy again. It was a thirty-minute drive from my place to hers, and neither of us had cars. The pre-employment training took up most of my time and she had her own job to worry about, not to mention classes at the university. We talked on the phone every day, which would have brought about stern disapproval from Rick Yeung at the consulate if he'd gotten wind of it. Even Michael would likely have warned us to severely limit our phone contact. Nonetheless, I had to hear Wendy's voice on a regular basis, added element of danger be damned. And I knew she felt the same way.
The training was grueling, but I learned a great deal. I would be teaching at a public elementary school in a rural location. Included in the training were two full days of immersion in basic Mandarin. I now had ample incentive to learn the local language and I had already looked into taking some classes on my own.
As the end of the first week of instruction drew near, I found myself counting the hours until Friday afternoon and the weekend. The time had arrived to lay all my cards on the table, to bring the path forward into greater focus.
At three o'clock on Friday, with the first week of training out of the way, I boarded a public bus. This would be the first leg in a serpentine excursion that required nearly two hours and three different buses. By the time I'd arrived at Wendy's workplace, securing a more efficient means of transportation had moved to the head of my to-do list.
Wendy was in the process of wrapping things up for the day. I poked my head inside her office to let her know I was there, and quickly withdrew outside to wait. True, her boss had been more than accommodating on my earlier visit, but I didn't want to push it.
A few minutes passed by and, eventually, Wendy emerged from the office, her workday complete. She was looking particularly ravishing in a white blouse and a light blue skirt, with her hair hanging loose and free. Naturally, I saw fit to comment on her appearance.
"You look lovely," I told her. She gave a shy smile, and responded by slipping her hand into mine. We walked hand in hand down the street, venturing into the same restaurant in which we'd dined the day I'd arrived in China.
With it being a public venue, the conversation remained light during dinner. We took our own sweet time, just enjoying the food and each other's company. With our plates clean and the bill paid, we got up to leave. Wendy paused for a second.
"What do you want to do now?" she wondered.
"Let's take a walk," I suggested, being deliberately vague.
While on the bus earlier, I'd noticed what appeared to be a small pedestrian bridge leading into an area thick with trees and vegetation, just a couple of blocks from the restaurant. It was in this direction that I pointed her. Upon reaching our destination, and viewing it up close for the first time, I silently gave thanks; this place was perfect. The bridge traversed a small, shallow stream; its waters rushing over and around a series of large rocks roughly ten feet below. The banks of the stream were covered with lush foliage. It was a small oasis of nature concealed within an urban jungle. By then, the sun was nearing the western horizon and a cool breeze was increasingly in evidence. At this hour, there was a blessed absence of passersby.
Wendy smiled a little, resting her arms on the railing of the bridge, gazing down at the babbling brook. "This place is nice," she commented. "Sometimes I come here during my lunch break."
I merely looked a question at her. She replied with a giggle, before elaborating. "I come here when I want to think, to be alone. It's almost always quiet here." I couldn't help but smile at her affectionately, as I marveled at the deep, complex woman that resided under her occasionally aloof exterior. She was a classic case of 'still waters running deep'.
Then, we both were standing inches apart, looking out over the water. I had a speech all mapped out in my mind for this moment, and was in the process of gearing up for its introduction. But, as always seemed to happen, Wendy beat me to the punch, forcing me to ad-lib.
"Tell me why you came back to China," she suddenly inquired, turning to face me fully. Those mesmerizing eyes of hers locked with mine, with a firmness that indicated they weren't about to release their grip until I gave up that piece of information.
"I came back," I replied, "because I had to see you again."
Then, her eyes narrowed a little; I got the sense that she wanted to hear more. A series of flashbacks ran through my mind in rapid-fire succession. I saw the braided masseuse from so long ago, struggling with two armfuls of overloaded shopping bags. I saw a fellow hostage, seated next to me on a triad-owned luxury jet, high-fiving me after a hilarious insult of our lead captor. I saw the two of us standing nervously before a Chinese government official, surrendering the documents that would result in our entering into a phony marriage. I saw a determined young woman seated next to me on a sofa, writing in a notebook as she doggedly pursued mastery of English. I felt her talented hands against my skin as she selflessly squeezed away the stress and pain of a long day at work in the fields. I saw her clad in sexy attire, her body swaying as she danced with me in a nightclub. I saw a half-awake roommate who, on that fateful morning right before my rescue from the grips of the triad, had been preoccupied with the nutritional value of the lunch I'd packed. Finally, I saw the lady I'd been reunited with a little more than a week ago. She'd gained a degree of refinement in the interim, but was still a simple country girl at heart; feisty yet reserved, intensely loyal, and huge-hearted. It was this parade of wonderful memories that induced me to delve down into the depths of my heart, and voice the words that more accurately described the essence of how I felt.
"I came back," I elaborated, "because I love you. On some level, I think I always have."
Her immediate response was to break our eye contact, and momentarily lower her face. I grew worried. Had I said too much? Was she about to tell me I was out of my mind? The delay seemed to stretch out for an eternity. But when her gaze once again met mine, the moisture in her eyes and the glow on her face let me know that I'd uttered the magic words. I had more to say, however.
"When Erin passed away ... I thought my life was over. I felt as though a large part of me had died as well. It took many months for me to begin to lose that sense of hopelessness. And even then, I still felt myself drifting. Then, out of nowhere, you came back into my life; and right away, I had something to live for. You almost literally saved my life."
I paused at that point, affording Wendy the chance to say what was on her mind. She reached up and placed the palm of her hand against the side of my face. Its cool softness, pressed against my cheek, caused me to shiver slightly.
"I have always loved you," she said with conviction, her voice breaking. "When you were here before, I knew you couldn't return my love. I accepted that. It was hard. At the same time, your devotion to Erin made me love you even more. One time, I said to Sandra, 'I wish I had a man who was that devoted to me.'" She hesitated for just a moment, seeming to gather her thoughts.
"When you left, I was heartbroken," she continued. "But I didn't blame you. I knew you had to go. And it was for the best. I wanted you to be happy. That is what I want for you now. After all you've been through, you deserve happiness. I want to give you that happiness."
"You already have, my love," I told her. I placed my index finger under her chin, and gently tilted her face toward mine. I leaned in, and my lips tasted hers; there were no flashbacks to my previous life, no regrets, no guilt. It seemed like the most natural thing in the world. It was a kiss that instantaneously opened a door to the future. Finally, my focus was where it should be: looking ahead, rather than in the rear view mirror. The past is for remembering; the present is for living.
We stood there on the bridge in the deepening twilight, just holding each other, sharing soft kisses and sweet words. It wasn't long before dusk advanced to the point where the ambiance transitioned over from 'romantic' to 'dangerous.' We were, after all, situated in a secluded, dimly lit area in a large city. We reluctantly made the decision to adjourn to a more suitable venue. Wendy's place was considerably more accessible than mine from this part of town. Luckily, the right bus showed up before too long. We took our seat, snuggling up close together for the ride. Love was in the air, but even so, we stuck to casual conversation. I certainly felt a strong urge to pick up where we'd left off back at the bridge. However, I knew I was in a foreign land, in the midst of a different culture; and I didn't know the local views with regard to public displays of affection. I'd have to ask Wendy about that later. At any rate, just having her close to me was more than enough.
At Wendy's place, we both stepped inside and she closed the door. At once, she threw her arms around me and pressed her open mouth against mine. Momentarily startled by her forwardness (although I really shouldn't have been), I nevertheless became a very willing participant in the tongue-wrestling match that ensued. Then, she inexplicably pulled away and motioned me in the direction of the couch. "Give me a few minutes," she purred, as she sauntered off toward the bedroom. She favored me with a quick but searing glance, right before she gently shut the door behind her.
Confused and eager at the same time, I had no other recourse but to take a seat and wait. I knew Wendy well enough to realize that something unexpected was in the works. But what? Finally, several minutes later, she brought the suspense to an end by calling out to me, "You can come in now."
I didn't have to be told twice. I opened the bedroom door, and what I saw took my breath away.
There, in the flickering illumination provided by two strategically located candles, lay my beloved; her reclining form on provocative display there on the bed. She was wearing a red lace bra and a matching pair of red lace panties, thinly veiled behind a red sheer negligee. She was laying on her side, facing me with her jet-black hair hanging unconfined, her head propped up slightly with her elbow. Her magnificent legs were on full exhibit. The yellowish-orange candlelight caused her skin to glow in an angelic fashion.
"You are exquisite," I gulped out. I came to her, there in her bed, and took her in my arms. She began to tug at my shirt and, before too long, I was stripped down to my underwear. Always irresistibly unpredictable at critical moments, Wendy decided that at this point in the proceedings, a brief conversation was called for.
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