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“If I gave you the advice, would you do it?”
John sat up straight. “Would you?”
“If not me, somebody else. I don’t want to waste my time if you’re going to chicken out, though.”
“Hell, no. I don’t give up on things, that’s not the problem. It’s getting started, bull by horns and going for it. Andrea has the stubbornness to see things through. I don’t want to rush, though.”
“Not suggesting that you do. Best-laid plans are never rushed.” Jason flicked the shells back into the pool. “If the business plan looks good and you need finances, come to me, not a bank. I can offer you better terms on investment.”
John put a hand to his chest as if to catch his breath. “Is this some kind of dragon’s den, my pitching to you?”
He laughed. “I hope I won’t have to put you through the grinder. Seriously, once the wedding is over and you’re a happily married man, formalise your ideas. Build contacts and networks, check out potential competitors and I’ll find you a good business advisor.”
“Jason, this would be great. Really helpful. I can’t wait to tell Andi!” John clapped his hands together and rubbed them gleefully.
“We should get back, then.”
Jason rose and waved at the speedboat. On the horizon, he could see Sublime catching up with them.
Chapter 16. Blindfolded
Normally, when she was blindfolded in the presence of Jason, the room would be deathly still. Gemma would hear his feet pitter-pattering about on the wooden floor and sometimes the sound of his subtle breathing. Recently, he had taken to humming under his breath—some arbitrary tune which had sprung into his head. She found the melodic sounds comforting, especially if she was nervous.
As he approached, she would smell him. His preferred brand of shower gel and shaving cream. The masculine, gentle scent of fresh perspiration or the fragrance of his laundered clothes. Eventually, when he was in range of touching her, she would feel his warm moist breath on her skin, usually the nape of her neck.
He liked to creep up behind her. Though he moved with stealth, his purpose wasn’t to make her jump out of skin with shock, but to produce the sensation of vulnerability and thereby her absolute need to trust him. She would occasionally flinch slightly at his first touch, and her heartbeat would increase in pace. Knowing he was there, so very close to her, she would take a deep breath and relax.
Today on the flybridge, surrounded by a semi-circular area of seating, she stood completely still. She had been playing blind man’s bluff with Andrea. Taking it in turns to see who could find the other the quickest in the smaller confines of the bow end of the flybridge. Andrea had agreed to the little game and Gemma had put back on her bikini and skirt wrap. Andrea joked that the alcoholic drinks had gone to their heads, along with the heat. The blindfold idea had been inspired by Gemma’s recounting of setting a dinner table blindfolded.
“You must be good with a blindfold on,” had laughed Andrea. “Pin the tail on the donkey or blind man’s bluff, you would win hands down.”
So, they put her theory to the test.
Gemma knew Jason was nearby. For one thing, Andrea’s raucous laughter had ceased. She couldn’t hear much; she perceived footsteps perhaps, approaching her from behind. The next sensory organ to be awoken was her nose. Salty sea smell and a wetsuit with a damp, rubbery aroma. Her ears pricked up. She heard his breath, faster than usual. He must have been energised by being out on the powerboat and probably had bounded up the stairs to find them. Then came his warm breath on her bare shoulders. She didn’t flinch at all when he kissed her neck.
“Hi, babe,” he said softly.
“Hi to you, too,” she replied.
She was very tempted to kneel. His voice and close proximity made her want to be that submissive woman. She didn’t because she knew John and Andrea were close by. In the background, John greeted his fiancée warmly.
Jason’s arms wrapped around Gemma, and he rested his chin on her shoulders.
“Been having fun?” he asked.
“Yes. Blind man’s bluff.”
“Interesting choice of game.” He licked her neck.
“I’d been talking about how I was trained, the dinner service thing I had to do. How I have to trust my senses and not freak out,” she explained carefully, tensing under his weight.
“Talking about your training. Mmmm. We agreed to not to talk about us. Have you been inappropriate?” His quiet tone bordered on displeasure.
“Nothing inappropriate about us, Sir. My past, distant past. Mainly my first Master. He wasn’t exactly a beast of the bedroom, was he?” she said with maybe too much boldness in her tone.
“Because if I find out you have said anything about us two, about what we do together or anything that makes me think you are going to recall memories that could trigger one of your emotional meltdowns, I will be very cross.”
“I have not been inappropriate, Master,” said Gemma with greater conviction.
