“I need help,” she said, and the tears began to fall. “I’m such a mess, Rick. I have friends, girlfriends, but they just don’t understand how anyone with all this money, these opportunities, can feel so empty. Since Daddy died, I’ve just about held on to this job. I can’t get up in the morning. I drink too much and, and…”
Her voice fell away into sobs. Rick pulled on her arm, drew her across to his side of the kitchen table, and sat her on his knee.
“I’m going to take care of you, just like last time. I will get you up every morning, tuck you up at night, make sure you are safe. All those things, but this time it will be different. I’m not going to hold back, Leah. I will spank you if you don’t look after yourself and if you are rude and argumentative towards me. However, now I can kiss you better, I can hold you, embrace and make love to you too. What do you say to that, Miss Leah?”
She wiped her nose on her sleeve, just like a small child, and he shook his head in mock indignation.
“I would like that. Please.”
Chapter Five
The best way to get Leah up in the morning, decided Rick, was to sleep with her. It might seem too soon, too quick, but it all fitted together very easily. Why go back to his pokey flat every night, all the way across the city, when she needed him in the mornings, bright and early? She offered him a spare room. It made sense for him to have his privacy. Their relationship had barely begun, they had to catch up, grow used to each other’s company, find the common ground, and learn to tolerate habits and daily routines.
In the morning, she drank tea, Rick preferred coffee. He ate cereal, Leah had toast. She had the luxury of an electric shower, which she rarely used as she favoured the bath. He couldn’t believe his fortune as he had become accustomed to showering while living abroad. It was during the evenings that they had to adjust and accommodate each other.
Once back from work, Leah still had matters to sort out regarding her father’s estate. The legacy of such a vast business empire and her undefined role in its future. She could sell all of her shares and walk away from it, very rich and free of all responsibilities. Or, she told Rick, she could maintain an interest, as her father would have wished.
Rick’s evenings, so soon after returning to the UK, had meant little to him. He had rediscovered some of his mates, found them in their pubs and dens, tempting him to talk about his exploits abroad. That was the problem; he couldn’t. It wasn’t ethical in one case and dangerous in the other. He joked off their questions and kept his head down. Instead, he showed a passing interest in football, the docks, or the rise of immigrants to the city. All topical but not of any great interest to Rick.
Leah sewed. She designed her own dresses, skirts, and blouses, inspired by the fashion catalogues she pored over and helped create. Sitting at her Singer sewing table, the mechanism whirred as she dreamt up dresses for every occasion. He would smile as she twirled about the room, showing off her latest creation. She had aptitude, he thought, but what did he know, he had very little experience of fashion.
The first two weeks came and went, with him basking in the newfound delight of regular sex with an attractive woman. Leah melted in the bedroom, when she invited him in, which was most nights. Gradually the balance shifted and she stopped inviting and let him decide. He would knock on her door and slip in, climb between the sheets, and begin to explore her fascinating body with his hands and tongue. She never said no to him.
Making love to her had altered in preference too. Leah quickly demonstrated she liked Rick to be bold, almost fearsome with his
body. She revelled in his hard thrusts, visibly showing her delight if he bent her delectable body into a new position, taking his own senses on an exploratory mission. She learnt quickly; neither novice nor experienced, she allowed him the upper hand and moulded her form to his designs.
Oral sex she took to with ease and quickly showed him she had talent. It was one night, as he fingered her tiny anal bud, that she protested at him.
“No?” he said, rocking his hard cock between her cleft.
“I’m not sure,” she stuttered.
“Not yet, then,” he said. He didn’t doubt he could convince her otherwise.
Then, after the fortnight honeymoon period, her problems began to return. The hiatus of good behaviour ended. She struggled to rise in the morning, she snapped at him over breakfast, and then on one occasion she stumbled back to the car after a night out with friends, clearly drunk. Once home, having escorted her upstairs, Rick gave her a reprimand and told her if she didn’t get up on time the next day, he would spank her.
Swaying by the door to her bedroom, Leah glared at him for a second, eyes blinking, her mouth shaped as if she intended to speak. Then her lips pressed tight together. Rick waited to catch her, convinced she was about to fall. Instead, she pulled herself up straight and marched through the door, slamming it behind her.
Rick contemplated following her into the room. Initially, he could not countenance climbing into bed with her. Her lures—the charm of her curvaceous body, her dark shiny hair, even when she was drunk and stroppy—were irresistible; he would be safer in the spare room. Then he thought he heard her retching. Striding into the bedroom, he ignored her futile protests, pointing out she needed to be taken care of and then when she flopped on the bed, acquiescent and semi-conscious, he resigned himself to putting her to bed and keeping a watchful eye on her stupefied state.
The next day came and she lay in bed, refusing to answer his calls and ignoring her ringing alarm clock. He stared at her in disbelief, wrapped in her bed sheets and hiding her face from him.
“You were warned, Miss Leah. Now you will face the consequences. Get out of bed, get dressed or else these consequences will worsen. As it is, I will deal with your tardiness at a future point in time.”
* * *
After Rick had left the bedroom, Leah peered out from underneath the covers. Her eyes bright and awake, she let out low groan, an inward growl of frustration. She hadn’t intended to make him cross; although he didn’t sound very angry with her, she had thought her actions might irritate him. Confusion reigned in her mind and the heart of the problem was the conflicting role of her chauffeur turned lover.
Too fast, everything perhaps had been done with haste. The inviting him to stop over had happened on one night and then promptly blossomed into every night and then she had provided him with one of her spare rooms for his meagre possessions and clothing.
Their relationship remained undefined. He drove her to work, to her social functions, the weekly visit to the tennis club, and the odd foray into the shops. All proper and what she had imagined a driver would do. Except at night, Rick morphed into her lover, creeping between the sheets, touching her and sending her to a heavenly place.
The evening before she had lost track of the number of cocktails she had consumed. It was a weakness of hers to forget the alcohol content and glug away without consideration for her dizzy head and staggering legs. Dancing to the latest hits, she had crashed into people, knocking their drinks flying, argued with the barman about who should be served first, and at one point she stood on the table and did the twist, her mini-skirt riding up her legs, showing her frilly knickers to everyone. The catcalls had been raucous from the male bystanders.
Rick, perched in the corner of the club with his tonic water, had given her a serious frown of disgust, even more so when she nearly threw up in his precious Mercedes. Not his, the company’s, but he treated it like his own car.
Helping her to bed, she had expected him to sleep in his own room, but he didn’t. There had been no lovemaking, but he told her she needed to be looked after, especially if she was feeling sick. She had whispered a ‘thank you,’ shuffled up to his warm body and then, with the bedroom swirling about her, become awash with guilt. She didn’t think her actions that evening would go down as her best; she had told him she would behave and her gallivanting had been shameless.