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“Oh Gemma, Gemma. What am I to do with you?” his eyes rolled up to the ceiling. A rhetorical question. “There is obviously something wrong.”
What could I say to him? How to explain to him - I could not reconcile the Jason who was tender and sensitive when my friend was hurt, and the Jason who treated me like his slut that afternoon. I had fallen in love a man who came in two parts and I wanted to bring them together into one but how? When would he open up and tell me his real feelings toward me? I could not wait forever.
“We need to leave at nine o’clock. You’d better clear up.”
The
conversation was over and the unresolved issues were left on the table to fester.
***
My first day at work was a whirlwind of meetings, setting up my computer and meeting new faces. There were only forty employees in the company and I loved that we were all on the same floor. I was given my own office. The room was cramped, but the space was mine and I marked it by hanging a picture on the wall. I ended up working longer than I planned, but I wanted to make a good impression. By the end of the week, when I checked my timesheet, I had worked far longer than my contracted hours.
My new workplace had a different atmosphere to Jason’s company. Lunch was a hurried affair for everyone and there was no communal dining area to escape to for a break. In its place, there was a small kitchen with a microwave and kettle. A few of my colleagues huddle together around each other’s desk while chatting. I tried hard to make connections with people. I could not afford to have another job become a dead end. My resume would not survive the ignominy.
I was assigned a small project to break me in and immediately I was in at the deep end. With a small company there was little hierarchy or formality. It also meant having to resolve issues without much support. The computer was only partially set up and I had to use a remote support desk to fine tune my settings. A foreign voice down the end of the phone was disconcerting and I was glad my background in computing had given me a head start with technical issues. I relished the opportunity to put my career back on track.
I arrived chauffeured by Gibson, causing me to feel awkward and self-conscious. I was not to leave the building without her escort. After what had happened to Trudy, I was not arguing about the increased security.
Tuesday arrived and I had a surprise visitor. A tap on my door and I looked up to find Jason standing in the doorway.
“Jason!” I could not hide my delight.
For a minute I panicked with the idea he was going to shut the door and perform a repeat of Sunday afternoon on me.
“I was driving by on the way back from a meeting.” He perched on the edge of my desk.
I could see Martinson standing outside in the corridor. I wondered what the others would make of my boyfriend turning up unannounced with a personal guard. With the exception of Daniel, who was familiar with Jason’s name and company, the others were oblivious of the significant ‘other’ in my life. Martinson was walking up and down, eyeing up the windows and doors with his professional eye. It dawned on me that the visit was an excuse for my safety to be checked out. I was comforted that Jason took my safety so seriously that he came in person.
“I have something for you.” He reached inside his jacket pocket. He handed me an invitation ticket with my name printed on the glossy surface.
“An invite to my company’s annual Winter Masquerade Ball, this Saturday evening,” he pushed the ticket across the desk to me.
“Jason, how wonderful.” I picked the shiny ticket up. For a minute, I pondered certain issues.
“You don’t look pleased,” admonished Jason.
“There will be lots of people from your company. I don’t think I can face them knowing. Not after all those rumours.” I held the ticket in my hand and looked up into his blazing blue eyes as he digested my comment.
“Well, for starters. It is not every one in the company. I invite the senior executives, managers and their partners. Other business partners and minor celebrities who support my charitable foundation. They are completely unaware of you and have no interest in office gossip. Having a ticket is a privilege. Most of my staff would be falling over themselves to receive an invite. You’re going because I want you on my arm, smiling your beautiful smile and shaking numerous hands. I promise not to take you off into some secluded room and fuck you, since this seems to be an issue with you. At some point we will address your dislike of humiliation in substantial detail,” his voice was super quiet, head bending down so only I could hear him.
I turned crimson. My discomfort over Sunday’s sexual encounter was more apparent than I intended.
“Thank you very much, Jason. I would be delighted to attend your ball,” I looked up at him and smiled my sweetest smile.
“Good. Then it is settled. You will need a ball gown and a mask. There is a number on the back of the ticket where you can obtain something suitable. The theme is African wildlife.” I turned the ticket over and noted the phone number and website address.
“What will you be going as?” I inquired.
“Why, Miss Marshall. The lion king. See you later.” He turned on his heel and was gone.
Chapter 18
The week flew by. I was busy with learning the ropes in my new job. I barely saw Jason and our only sexual encounter was on Wednesday night. The sex had been brief, rough and to the point. I thought both of us needed it to be brisk, relieving are own personal stresses in a mutually beneficial fashion. The orgasm had been certainly worthwhile and he did not keep me waiting too long for relief. The act of intercourse was limited by my period. Jason solution to my menstruation was to make use of other holes.
Oral was becoming increasingly routine. I was not even sure if Jason saw it as full blown sexual activity. He was happy for me to suck away to bring him to satisfaction and give me nothing back in return. I was, for the duration of a blow-job, his service submissive performing his desired request as efficiently as possible. As I had my period, I was turned over and told to stick my bum up for him. He was generous with the lubricant but beyond that he fucked me no differently to vaginal sex.
He had asked me about having sex during my period earlier in our relationship and I had shaken my head when he said he had no problem with vaginal sex as long as there were towels down on the bed. I had blanched completely at the idea. Little buttons of panic had fired off in my head at the idea of blood and sex. Something in my face must have alerted him to my rising levels of stress.
