Page 26 of The Facilitator, Part 2

A half hour later, when the only noise was the aircraft engine and the snores of a fellow Upper Class passenger, I wrapped my hand around Mackenzie’s cock and massaged.

It was wanton and took me back to the early days of our relationship when risk-taking was the norm.

A slight sharp intake of breath was the only indicator he was about to come.

I pulled his shirt up his stomach a little and aimed clear of his trousers and the blanket.

He closed his eyes as I milked his cock for all that it would give me.

“Can we get banned from an airline?” I asked after he’d cleaned himself up.

“Not when paying the kind of money these seats cost,” he replied.

He took up my hand and yet again, he told me how much he loved me.

We both slept for a little while, the lull of the plane, the dimmed lights, champagne, and our excitement wore us out.

The grogginess I felt while refreshing my makeup and changing back into my clothes seemed to be matched by Mackenzie’s.

I would have thought he’d adjust to long flights a lot easier than I had, but as he placed his arm around my shoulders to escort me from the plane, I wondered if it was to steady himself as well as me.

My habit of always sitting directly behind a driver in a strange car for security went out the window as we were shown to our vehicle.

Driving on the wrong side of the road wasn’t alien, I’d visited many countries over the years; perhaps it was the bright morning sunshine or the unbelievable heat and humidity that had me disorientated.

Our driver seemed to know Mackenzie, and although he did introduce me, I stayed out of their conversation.

I was mesmerised by his accent and more so by the way Mackenzie’s changed.

He’d always had a little Southern drawl to his voice but it seemed more prominent.

“Are you okay?” Mackenzie asked, noticing my quietness I guessed.

“I’m just listening to your accent change,” I replied.

He chuckled. “I guess it gets more prominent when I’m home.”

I noticed the smile as he looked out the window and the deep breath he took in with a slow release.

It dawned on me, as much as he’d refer to our house in London as home, it wasn’t with the same loving tones to his voice or with the same smile and relaxation to his face as when he said the word while in the U.S.

I felt a pang of sadness that I quickly waved away.

We pulled through a gate in a wall and I gasped at the sight in front of me.

A long, straight drive was outlined with a row of trees in perfect formation on either side.

Beyond the trees was white stock fencing and horses grazing.

Tails were swishing against the flies. The house at the end of the drive was impressive.

The building was wood-clad, with the sweeping veranda I’d imagined.

Although in the wrong state, the house could have stepped from the pages of Gone with the Wind .

“What a wonderful house,” I said, as the car came to a halt.

Mrs. Collingsworth was helped down the veranda steps to greet us.

“Ma’am,” the driver said as he held out his hand to me.

“Mrs. Collingsworth…” I started.

She waved her hands in the air. “Vivienne. It’s Vivienne, we are family now, Lauren,” she said, pulling me into an embrace.

“You have the most amazing house,” I said.

“I am so very lucky. My grandfather built it and I’ve lived here my whole life. I can’t imagine ever leaving, in fact, I’ll make a point to show you exactly where I intend to be buried with my momma.”

I laughed, not sure if she was joking or not.

“Ah, Mackenzie. Let me look at you. You look tired. Are you tired?” she said, as she studied him, holding him at arm’s-length.

“The flight is too long, that’s all,” he replied.

“Lauren!” I heard.

Gabriella came running from around the side of the house. Although it had only been a few days, she threw herself at me, and we both tumbled to the ground laughing.

“Oh, my God, girls, get up, will you?” Being chastised by Mrs. Collingsworth took me back twenty odd years.

We giggled as we were helped to our feet and while we brushed dust from our clothes.

Gabriella had clearly been riding, or doing something with the horses, she smelled of them.

She looked so different. Her hair was pulled back into a plait, she wore no makeup and her cheeks were rosy, her lips pink, and she sported a smattering of freckles over her nose that had, previously, been covered with foundation.

We walked arm in arm into the house while our suitcases were collected from the car. Mrs. Collingsworth had an army of staff who bustled around, offering drinks and snacks, and checking if I had any allergies.

I felt arms wrap around my waist as I stood at the veranda, sipping on a glass of water I’d poured from a jug on the table.

“Are you okay?” Mackenzie asked. He had been inside the house.

“I am. What a house, Mackenzie. How could Gabriella have wanted to leave here?”

“I guess it’s wonderful to return to for a holiday, but to live here?

It’s quite isolating. Vivienne owns a lot of land that she leases to local farmers.

She’s an astute businesswoman, but an old-fashioned one as well.

Gabriella would have just been expected to take over the business and never leave. ”

“What about Daniel?” I asked. “Wouldn’t he have taken over; he’s older isn’t he?”

I hadn’t wanted to bring up Mackenzie’s arch enemy as Daniel referred to himself, but I was curious.

“Maybe old-fashioned was the wrong term for Vivienne. She would have no hesitation in bucking the trend or expectations. Gabriella would have been the more capable, she’s certainly the more intelligent; so she would have been the one to step into her mother’s shoes.”

“What will happen when…you know…if Gabriella isn’t around to take over?”

“Everything is in trust. There’s a land management company that does most of the day-to-day work now.”

I heard my mobile ring and turned, still in Mackenzie’s arms, to reach for my bag. I showed him the screen.

“Hi, Jerry,” I said as I answered.

“Where are you? It sounds like you’re miles away.”

“America. We’re visiting Gabriella and Alex,” I said.

“Blimey, you didn’t say. I won’t keep you long. I’m heading to America myself in a couple of weeks. I thought we could catch up before I left, but not to worry,” he said.

I breathed a sigh of relief that he wasn’t in the U.S. at the same time.

“That sounds great,” I said.

“Addison headed home so I was bored. She needed to catch up with her father for some reason. Anyway, I’ve got a couple of business opportunities I wanted to talk to Mackenzie about. I guess it will have to wait until we’re all back home.”

“I’m sure he won’t mind if you gave him a call, just remember the time difference,” I said, bristling that he only wanted my company because he was bored .

“I might do that. There’s an opportunity but it’s time-sensitive. Maybe I’ll call him next. Is he with you?” he asked. I could feel Mackenzie shake his head, overhearing our conversation.

“He’s not. I’ll let him know you’re going to call him, though. So, tell me, what else have you been up to?”

We talked for another five minutes or so before Jerry moaned the call would be costing him a fucking fortune ! I laughed as he disconnected without another word.

“I feel absolutely awful lying to him, but the thought of meeting up with him and Addy would be my worst nightmare,” I said, overemphasising her name. I felt Mackenzie shudder in confirmation.

“You don’t have to. If you ever did want to meet up with him, though, and she’s with him, then I’ll support you in anyway you need,” he said.

“I don’t want to do that. I just hope he fucks her out of his system, or she gets bored trying to get whatever it is from him, and we can all go back to normal.”

Was I being discourteous? Probably. Jerry was my friend, and I had no doubt Addison was bad news for him. I had stepped back, I wasn’t saying anything horrid or negative about her, but I wasn’t about to double date, either.

I also didn’t trust her and that had nothing to do with what Mackenzie had said, nothing to do with what Gabriella, or Mrs. Collingsworth, had said, but pure instinct.

My hackles rose involuntary whenever her name was mentioned, let alone if she was close.

My gut was telling me she was bad news; I didn’t need another person to voice that.

“Do you want to nap? I don’t recommend it, of course,” Mackenzie said.

“No, I’d like to explore if you’ll show me around,” I replied.

“Have you ever ridden a horse?” he asked.

“No, have you?”

It seemed a stupid thing to say, really. In my head, everyone who lived in the South of America rode horses. Mackenzie laughed.

“Of course I have. Come on, I'll teach you. If you want to explore, on horseback is the only way.”

“I don’t know, they’re dangerous, aren’t they?”

“Put on some jeans.”

Mackenzie walked to the hall where our suitcases stood. He grabbed a pair of jeans from his, and a pair from mine. I watched as he stripped off his trousers and left them over the back of a chair in the hall, without a care anyone would see him.

“You only have shoes,” I said, as I headed to the downstairs loo to change my outfit.

“I’m sure someone has some boots in our size,” he said.

In just our socks, we padded through the house to an area I would have called the boot room.

Two dogs raised their heads from padded mats near a radiator.

Mackenzie patted one while rifling around.

He found two pairs of boots and handed me one.

They were a little large but I was assured they’d do the job.

My feet sloshed around as we walked out the house and around to the rear.

We were greeted by Gabriella walking from a stable block.

“You’re not, are you?” she said.

“We are, I think,” I replied, hoping we were talking about the same thing.

“Oh, can I come?”