“Don’t get any ideas... I’ll see you back in the house shortly.”
With that parting comment, he strolled out of the pool looking most content. Standing up I realised that Jason and I had exchanged emotions. Now I was the one frustrated and incomplete and he was relaxed and satisfied.
Shit! Why do I let him do this to me? I knew the answer, I always did: I would be the source of his happiness.
The weekend finished on a high note. Jason took me back to the little pub for an evening meal, which was pleasant and we managed to chat without raising any difficult issues. Naturally, security came, driving us there and back, monitoring coming and goings from the pub’s doorway. We retired early to the bedroom, and I pleased Jason by giving him a blow-job as he relaxed in the bath. I was delighted went he reciprocated on me. At last, I was allowed pleasure. Wow, he could hit my sweet spots so well.
***
Monday morning and we took a detour so he could show me his townhouse - Piedmont as it was called. He rang work to tell Carla he would be delayed as he wanted to show me around the place. Located in an exclusive part of West London, the property was one of those terraced houses that surrounded a walled secluded square garden. The house was on three floors. I could see through the wrought iron railings and down a flight of stairs that there was a basement flat with a separate front door. The architecture was Georgian and had all the features intact and well maintained. Jason had the property on a long lease, from a notable landowner. He took my hand and led me up the stairs to the large doorway. Smiling, he unlocked the door and I tentatively walked in.
The house was considerably different to his country mansion. Unlike Blythewood House, he had chosen not to fit the rooms out with modern furnishings or decorations. The decor was in keeping with the period the house was built in. A drawing room – as Jason called it – with original fireplace, a small TV and two large sofas. A floor to ceiling window faced out on to the street. Across the hallway with its grand stairwell rising up two storeys above us, there was the dining room with elegant wooden table and chairs in a Chippendale style. At the back of the house a large kitchen diner, with smaller table and chairs. This room had been modernised with a more contemporary kitchen. A patio door opened out on to a small decked area and walled yard. Barbed fencing on top of the wall made the exterior look like a prison yard. I frowned at the thought of being imprisoned anywhere.
“Come.” Jason sensed my discomfort and led me upstairs.
The master bedroom with en-suite was tasteful decorated. The lack of feminine touches all too apparent again, no dressing table or mirrors. I sighed, the decor would need to be addressed if things were going to be long-term. A few familiar packing boxes were standing against a wall, mine from my apartment. Opposite was a delightful room. A study with bookcases lining the walls. The room had modern furniture, which seemed in keeping with the high ceilings and sepia coloured flock wallpaper, which was present throughout the house. The top floor had three small b
edrooms. Those rooms surprised me because one was set up as a double room and the other two were singles decorated in style of a child’s room. There were bright colours and even children’s drawings pinned to a pegboard. I turned to Jason, not able to hide my bewilderment.
“My nieces.” Jason nodded at a photo on the bedside table. It depicted a family grouping. “My brother and his wife use the house in the summer, while I’m away abroad. They take the kids to museums, shows, that sort of thing,”
For some strange reason I kept forgetting that Jason had relatives. We headed back downstairs and as we descended, I ran my hand down the smooth polished wooden banister, curving its way down past the middle floor.
“It is lovely, Jason. Very homely.” Not quite the truth, the place felt like a bachelor pad. We were standing in the hallway and he had taken me in his arms.
“Good, I’m glad. It has been very quiet here in the evenings knowing you’re somewhere else. It is good that you’re here now.” He released me. “I have to get to work. Make yourself at home. Don’t go out without ringing me. You must be accompanied. You do understand?”
“Yes of course.” I did not want to antagonise him as things were going so well between us.
“Mr Brooks will provide you with anything you need.”
I looked quizzically at Jason.
“Mr Brooks lives in the basement flat. He’s, I suppose for want of a better word, my butler,” Jason smiled as I struggled to conceal my amusement. “Ring zero on the kitchen phone he will let himself in at the back. What?! Did you think I cook and clean this place too?”
Jason shook his head with mock surprise and planted a quick kiss on my lips.
“I’ll be back at seven. Bye,” and he was gone.
***
The aroma of food permeated the house and Jason looked especially pleased to see me in the kitchen busy cooking away.
“Mmmmm. Smells glorious. I’m very hungry,” he put his arms around my waist and sniffed at the pan on the stove.
“Five minutes,” I told him, trying to push him off.
He laughed in my ear and wandered off to set the table.
“Jason,” I ventured a question.
“Um yes.”
Jason looked across at me from the other sofa, where he was perched cross-legged and reading yet another contract. He had come home in sweatpants and top, having been to the gym at the end of the working day. I had finished cleaning up the kitchen after a dinner where food had his absolute focus of attention. Back in the drawing room, I sat down opposite him and I lined up my questions. Was he going to be receptive tonight I wondered?
“Do you still want me to go to the gym three times a week? I don’t want to disobey you, but I have no gym to go to in the week. I’m not at work,” I explained rapidly.
“True, very true, Miss Marshall. I believe there is a small private gym a couple of streets away, you can join there.”