“I’ll go back to my seat, so give it a couple of minutes then leave.”
She nodded as Jim pulled her dress down, covering her up.
“I’m still pissed at you,” he told her seriously. “And we might need a conversation about appropriate dress, but not now.” He helped her to stand upright and steady then kissed her gently on the lips. “Was it worth the wait?” he asked as he undid the lock on the door.
She nodded again. She felt weakened by it, had never felt anything like it and although she was unsure if she had been granted the right to speak she actually didn’t know that she was capable of it yet.
Locking the door behind Jim, Tasha gained her momentum before quickly freshening up. God, she was seriously sore and wasn’t sure what hurt most as her arse stung beyond belief. She checked her appearance in the mirror and thought everyone would know what she’d been doing with her ruffled locks, swollen lips and sparkling eyes. She straightened her very short dress and exited the bathroom where she retook her seat with care.
“Are you okay?” asked Parker when she appeared next to him. “You look a little flushed.”
“Yes, I’m just a little queasy. Maybe I should have had lunch,” she lied as she took a sip of her water.
Justin reappeared, much to her relief. “Sorry, miss,” was all he said and gave her another note.
She took it immediately and smiled at the attendant, but sighed as she thought about its possible contents then opened it.
Welcome to the mile high club, baby.
Well done, you just keep amazing me.
We will be going to Vegas and we will
be discussing your choice of outfit today.
Jx
She smiled when she saw that the kiss was back. She called to Justin as he headed back her way and asked for a pen, but it was Parker that came to the rescue in the shape of a heavy silver coloured rollerball.
Am glad that I joined the club with you.
You are pretty amazing yourself.
You may be going to Vegas, I will not!
And I don’t doubt we will be discussing my outfit.
My ass is very sore. Sorry, your ass is very sore.
Tx
She handed the note back to Justin and smiled at her method of address, ‘Return to Sender’. She waited for a moment and turned in her seat to watch Jim read her note with a smile. He was happy again, she had made him happy and that in turn made her happy too.
The plane landed and as the passengers were all preparing to disembark Parker made his move. “You look a little better, Tasha. I’m pleased. If you find yourself at a loose end while you’re in L.A. or next time you’re in town call me.”
He handed her a business card that said: Dr Parker Mathews followed by his number.
She accepted the card for no reason beyond being polite but said, “Don’t wait in for my call.”
He laughed. “No fear.”
Suddenly, she felt a push in her back and as she fell forward Parker caught her, steadying her.
“Sorry,” came the familiar voice behind her as Tasha turned to face Jim with Parker’s card still in her hand. He raised an eyebrow, but continued, “I really am very sorry. I hope I haven’t hurt you. I was just turning my phone back on. I’m expecting a message any time now about a Vegas wedding.”
“It’s fine,” she said a little disbelievingly at Jim’s words and expression. “I hope you get your message.”
“Oh, I will.” He grinned with total and utter confidence and belief she couldn’t help but admire even if she had no intention of going to Vegas with him.
Chapter 7
Tasha collected her bag and made her way through arrivals to find a smartly dressed forty-something man carrying a card displaying the name Winters.
She approached him and smiled. “Miss Winters? Mr Maybury asked that you switch your phone on,” he said as he took her bags and led her out to the waiting limo.
He held the door open for her and as soon as he closed it behind her she fished out her phone and turned it on to find four new text messages from James.
She smiled and moved onto the next one.
She sighed. Not only because she knew nobody would or could appeal to her when she had Jim waiting for her, but also because the extent of his possessive streak kind of scared her. He was intense, she knew that, but the idea that he could be so irritated by a stranger she’d happened to be seated next to on a plane might just be a little too intense for her. Briefly, she wondered if this was a really, really bad idea, coming here, with Jim, but as quickly as the thought entered her head, she dismissed it as there was nothing she wanted more than to be here with him. She already knew she was incapable of simply turning her back on him and walking away. She wanted to explore this, to see just who he was and where this attraction would take them both.
She laughed at his clear annoyance being on the rise again and hoped Marc hadn’t been lulled into a false sense of security by his earlier calmness.
She smiled again at his mercurial mood swings as she prepared her reply.
She smiled and waited for a reply and a couple of minutes later it appeared.
She was enjoying the banter, glad it was at a safe distance so any mistakes she inadvertently made could not be subject to immediate punishment. She rubbed her behind again and replied.
His reply was quickly received.
She inhaled deeply, he was right, on both counts and she was clueless as to what she was actually doing right now.
No reply came back as quickly as previous ones. She reread the message for the sixth or seventh time looking for comments that might have upset or annoyed him and found none. Eventually, a reply appeared.
She shook her head but laughed at his persistence.
No delay in the reply this time.
The tone was more serious now.
She stared at the screen hoping he’d focus on how he made her feel and how she felt about him rather than the age thing.
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She giggled at her own teasing.
Tasha stared down at her phone, unsure if he was serious about his son or the pool boy.
Tasha grinned down at the message and wondered if Jim would agree about a fifteen-year-old girl being pregnant with the child of a manipulative, greedy and underhanded eighteen-year-old if the fifteen-year-old in question was his daughter or would he react in the way her grandparents had? She avoided asking those questions or suggesting it might even be a possibility and composed what she hoped would be another light-hearted message.
Tasha stared down at the screen in amazement that he might miss her but at least he was acknowledging that she would be leaving. Briefly, she wondered if that meant he’d keep her captive until he decided they were done.
As the car travelled along the drive, which felt more like a lane, she noticed stables, tennis courts, some out buildings and lots of land. The main house was white and enormous, very imposing and to each side of it were smaller houses, cottages maybe.
“Is one of those yours?” she asked the driver.
“Yes miss. My wife, Sandra and I live to the right of the main house.” He smiled at her as he got out of the now stationary car and held the door open for her.
“Thank you,” she said, already climbing from the car. “Sorry, I didn’t ask your name.”
“That’s okay, miss. Michael, Mike.”
“Pleased to meet you.” Tasha was already offering Mike a hand to shake which he took almost reluctantly.
“I’ll get your bag, miss.”
“Thank you. You don’t have to call me miss. My name’s Tasha.”
He smiled as he pulled her bag from the boot. “I don’t know if that would be right, miss.”
Tasha cocked her head slightly, listening intently to the voice of the man before her. “Are you English?”
He smiled broadly now. “I am indeed, London.”
“Snap,” she grinned. “Whereabouts?”
“East Ham. You?”
“Walthamstow.”
“Small world, eh? You wait ‘til I tell Sandra. She’s from Walthamstow originally. I thought you were more West End than East End though.” He seemed more at ease with their common ground established.
Tasha shook her head. “No. Just a private secondary school education courtesy of my grandparents.” Suddenly, she felt butterflies in her stomach as she heard James’ familiar voice.
“What’s this? Stories from Blighty?” He bent down and kissed her gently on the lips.
“Kind of,” she replied. “Turns out we’re from the same neck of the woods.”
“I see.” Jim picked up Tasha’s case. “Thanks for changing your plans, Mike. I appreciate it.”
“No problem, although it’s costing me a romantic dinner for two now rather than lunch.” Mike smiled.
“It’s Mike and Sandra’s fifteenth wedding anniversary today,” explained James to a confused looking Tasha.
“Ah. Happy anniversary.”
“Thanks for the gifts, Jim.”
“No problem.”
“I’d better get back to ‘er indoors. I’ll put the car away first though. Nice to meet you, Tasha,” he said, notably more relaxed now, his English accent somehow providing Tasha with a sense of familiarity and reassurance.
“You too,” she replied as Jim took her hand and led her towards the house.
“Who do you support?” Mike suddenly shouted to Tasha.
Turning to face him she revealed a genuine smile. “I sometimes went to watch Leyton Orient with my grandad, but my heart was always at Upton Park.” Her face was now sporting a full, toothy grin as she recalled the time she’d spent with her grandfather watching football, just the two of them.
Jim looked at them, his confusion clear to them both.
“Football,” they replied in stereo.
“You mean soccer.”
“No, we mean football.” Tasha’s smirk teased Jim.
“Good girl.” Mike laughed at the pretty English girl who already had big, bad scary James Maybury on the back foot. “Jim, this one is a keeper,” he called to his boss with a short laugh.
“I would have to agree with you.” Jim wore a smile that matched the other man’s and then in a whisper spoke to Tasha. “See, lucky seven.”
Stepping into the palatial hall, it was a vision of marble and stone, light and airy, with no clutter or dust it appeared. Tasha swallowed hard, feeling out of her depth again, with this man, in this place. Jim held her hand firmly in his as he led her through to a huge kitchen with a general family room attached that had a wall of glass doors leading out to a pool area. She tried to take it all in.
“You like?”
“Yes, it’s beautiful. Very grand.” She knew she sounded a little awestruck, but had no way of disguising the fact that she was.
Jim pulled her closer, close enough that he was able to drape an arm around her and rest a hand on her behind, laughing. “Toasty.”
“Mmm, that’s one word for it I suppose.”
“I can think of some others; sexy, tight, perfect,” he told her with complete belief and sincerity in his words as he kissed her lips gently.
Allowing her lips to part a little she whispered a reply into his mouth. “Yours.”
“Oh, baby.” Jim groaned, cupping her cheeks and pulled her even closer. “That is my favourite of all. Let me show you upstairs.”
Following him upstairs Tasha tried to absorb the grandeur of the house and surroundings she was in. They entered the master bedroom and all of the attempts at accepting the level of luxury she was surrounded by evaporated as she thought his bedroom was probably bigger than her whole flat. It had the biggest bed she’d ever seen with a huge flat screen TV and a sofa at one end almost making a separate lounge in his bedroom. There was a massive en-suite bathroom with toilet, bidet, two hand basins, a shower big enough for a regiment to get into with ease and a gigantic bath more than big enough for two. A huge window and French windows led to a terrace from the bedroom that she assumed overlooked the back of the house. Finally, she saw entrances to not one, but two monstrous walk-in wardrobes with fl
oor to ceiling mirrors across the front of them that appeared to go in a horseshoe shape to meet one another.
“Is it too much?” Jim pulled Tasha to him so he could look down at her. “You look a little shell shocked.”
“A bit. Everything is so big and luxurious. I’ve never seen anything like this house, well only in magazines,” she admitted honestly.
“I wasn’t born into this existence, so I understand it might seem a little unreal, but it’s just my home. You will get used to it.” He attempted to reassure her as he pulled her towards him, not that she thought she would need to get used to anything for the duration of their time together, until they were done.
Tasha dropped her head so it rested against his chest and found it immediately provided her with a true sense of wellbeing and contentment. His aroma filled her nostrils and the warmth of his body against hers gave her comfort and balance. There was more though. Just being in such close proximity to Jim seemed to send her libido into auto pilot. She could feel her arousal rising; the pebbling of her nipples, her rapid breathing and the burn coiling in her belly, spiralling as far as her slick sex confirmed how much she wanted him. Pulling back, she began to undo the buttons on the white linen shirt Jim was wearing with khaki linen trousers.
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