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Yet, here she was, polishing. It was imbued into her, and it was t
here in her rules, too: obey, please, and serve her Master. Blindly doing what Jason asked her to do because she had given him jurisdiction over her, and nothing she thought would make any difference to him. She did it all to make him happy.
Clara had gone home by the time Jason returned. Joshua was tucked up in bed. Gemma’s kneecaps had managed to cope with kneeling by his bathtub while she washed her son. She greeted Jason in the hallway. Her weary body wasn’t enthusiastic in her welcoming. She announced in a deflated tone of voice dinner was nearly ready. A Brooks’ offering, since she had been polishing the fucking day away. She didn’t add the last part to her statement.
“My package?” he asked, kicking off his shoes.
She picked up his shoes, the same ones she’d prostrated herself over in the morning. “On your desk.” Looking at the leather uppers, she wondered if he might expect her to polish them, too. However, he merely nodded and went upstairs.
He came down to eat in his casual clothes. A warm glow infused her heart. Whatever tailored suits did to him, smart casual wear was equally effective in making him sexy and younger, too. His pectorals bulged through his tight-fitting T-shirt, and the linen slacks hung low off his hips.
“I am sorry I didn’t go to the depot yesterday. I lost the delivery card and forgot all about it,” she said, placing a dish in front of him. She waited by the table.
“Sit down, Gemma. We’ll speak of this after we’ve eaten, I’m hungry.” He picked up his cutlery and attacked the fish pie.
Nothing more was said over the meal. She picked at her food, uncertain to the nature of his mood. His expressionless face gave nothing away, and he opted to read the newspaper while he ate. She avoided raising an eyebrow at his bad habit. Such behaviour in her parents’ house would have warranted a disdainful remark. She tidied the kitchen while he finished his article.
Jason rose. “Show me what you have done today.”
Gemma presented to him the shoes, lined up in the utility room. He inspected each pair carefully. Then he scrutinised the silverware in the cabinet in the dining room, followed by the oak flooring of his study, which glistened. She lifted her chin, proud of her efforts. She also noted the room reeked of beeswax.
“Good,” he said in a cursory fashion and moved behind her. That was it? Nothing else?
She saw what was on his desk. Her rebellious side came close to exploding into a fit of anger. He had unwrapped his parcel and inside—toner cartridges for his colour printer.
That’s it! All the fucking fuss over toner!
“Take your clothes off,” he said in her ear.
“What the—” She came close to adding an expletive then thought better of it.
She fumed as she undressed, placing her clothes on the couch in a neat pile. Normally being asked to strip would incite other emotions, ones she liked.
“I want to inspect you. Show me your hands.” His tone remained calm, almost matter-of-fact.
She held out her sullied hands. The floor might be smooth and shiny, but the brushes and cloths she had gripped had caused callouses and roughened her skin.
He turned them over. “These will need moisturising.” His skin felt super soft.
He glanced down at her knees, still red and tender. “Bend over the desk.” Another tenderly delivered request. Somehow, Jason could mellow her darkest attack of indignation. As she rested her cheek on the cool surface, for the first time since his arrival home, she took a deep breath and relaxed.
She’d served him well that day and done everything he’d asked. Did it matter they were toner cartridges? No, he had asked her to do something, and she had been negligent.
She heard a clicking sound. “Babe, you’ve got a cut,” he said as he examined her privates with a pen light.
Her eyes screwed up tight. “I cut myself shaving. Out of practice.”
“Ah. You’d cancelled your beautician’s appointment?”
“I had to finish what you asked me to do,” she said to the wooden surface of his desk. Jason remained behind her.
“Did it bleed?” He’d moved closer, his breath heated her face. She didn’t want to see Jason—her sexy husband—at his most caring.
Her heart fluttered, and she stumbled over her words. “A little…I was okay.”
“Good. Well done, babe. You’ve been very obedient since this morning’s words.”
Now, she couldn’t help sniffing. “I’ve tried very hard to do as you asked, Sir.”
