Without him being a spectator.
Without him telling her to do it.
Was she being unfaithful as a wife? The question unnerved her greatly. The two aspects of their relationship, the submissive and loyal wife, were about to come head to head and smash into each other.
Gemma reached out and grasped Maria’s wrist, halting her in mid-movement. “Thank you. That’s sufficient for today.”
She hurriedly dressed and virtually ran away. As she turned to offer gratitude for her services, Gemma couldn’t help but notice the Mexican showed no alarm at her behaviour, in fact, she had a quirky expression on her face.
***
“Señor Lucas.” Maria found Jason alone in his office. “She is in turmoil, Señor. Her body is like electricity under my hands. I can feel the energy. I have felt it many times before in women. You know I have. She stopped me and left before I had finished. The poor woman needs to be put out of her misery.”
“If she wants to be put out of her misery, Maria, she will come to me. I want her completely willing and at ease. I want her to find pleasure and release, not guilt or languish with her insecurities. If she is ready and able, she will beg me. Beg to be used by you and you won’t need to worry. You’ve been patient.”
Maria had been very patient. She didn’t mind. Anticipation made the outcome more satisfying. She craved the opportunities that awaited her and would do as she was told. She always did.
***
Gemma kept up a good pace on the treadmill, accompanied by the high volume on her iPod ear buds. The workout calmed her nerves and focused her thoughts. She had succeeded up to a point and now felt ready to bring her inner befuddled state to a necessary conclusion.
Catching sight of her husband, she switched off the treadmill and wiped her face with her sweat towel. A trickle of perspiration slipped between her breasts. Her Lycra shorts hugged her thighs, and a sheen of warmth covered her sticky face.
“Hi,” she said, pulling out her ear pieces. “I didn’t hear you come in.”
Dressed in his cut-off jeans and a black vest, she found him to be very casual and youthful in appearance. Sexy, too. Every so often, he threw off the mantel of executive and became the playboy illusion she fantasised about.
“Didn’t think this was your favourite room.” He leant on the control panel of the treadmill and traced his finger over the selection buttons.
“All this lounging around and rich food. I’m getting flabby.” She patted her tummy.
“I’m not working you out enough?” He chuckled.
“Certain muscles are very well exercised. My lungs and heart need a steady, fast beat to improve my aerobic capacity. Your workouts are somewhat irregular in pace,” she explained.
“I see. I think you’re hiding from me.” He took her hand. She stepped off the rubber platform, and he drew her to him, pressing his chest against her, his hips, too. “Well?”
She kept her hands to her sides, refusing to participate in the cuddle. “Perhaps.”
She didn’t want this. She wanted to talk, not have sex. “Jason. Can we talk? I mean if I said I wanted to take a break, could we?” She slipped out of his hands, stepping backwards.
“A red kind of break?” His amused expression remained unchanged.
“Yes, I suppose. I want to chat to you, candidly.”
“Sure, darling. Here?”
“No. Let me shower first. I’m sticky and hot. What I want to talk to you about, I don’t think I should be sticky and hot. Under the canopy, with the sea breeze.”
“Okay. I’ll wait for you there.” He glanced a kiss at her cheek and left the gym.
***
They lay side by side on the lounger, staring up at the underside of the white canopy. Her hair lay wet and damp under her head. She had dressed in a long dress—a protective cladding about her body. A sense of foreboding filled her, not fear or dread, more uneasiness.
“Tell me, Jason, tell me what you mean by sharing me. Or not, as the case may be.”
“Time for definitions, is it?”