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From: Jason Oliver
Date: 8 January 2020 9.55 p.m.
Subject:Very well-placed confidence
My confidence in my spanking ability is most definitely not misplaced, Ms. Richardson. My hands are flexing right now, in preparation.
How on earth was she supposed to respond to that? Her brain was heady with arousal and she couldn’t find the right words. She didn’t want to be too forward, but neither did she want to be too shy. Not now that she’d pushed through her insecurities and opened herself up to him.
The back and forth banter felt so easy, so comfortable, so right. They’d slipped back into familiar territory so quickly, it was easy for her to forget they’d even been apart.
“Steve had been flirty and sweet once, too,” she reminded herself out loud. “And look how he ended up.”
The sharp jolt back to reality hurt. She’d enjoyed getting lost in the fantasy with Jason, enjoyed smiling again. Forcing the painful last few years out of her mind and concentrating instead on the present had been refreshing. But the truth of the matter was Steve hadn’t always been an abusive asshole. And Jason had already broken her heart once.
Leaning forward, she picked up the wine bottle and emptied the last of the dregs into her glass, adding the now empty bottle to the pile next to her feet.
“What would he think if he could see you now, you wino?” she asked herself, disgusted. “Hanky-spanky would be the last thing on his mind.”
Her phone dinged, interrupting her disparaging thoughts.
To: Catherine Richardson
From: Jason Oliver
Date: 8 January 2020 10.06 p.m.
Subject: Go to bed!!!
Three exclamation marks, because I’m very serious. Goodnight, Catherine. Sleep well. Email me tomorrow morning, when you’ve done as I asked: shower, wash your hair, dress in clean clothes. I’d like to hear from you by 8 a.m. Oh, and make sure you eat breakfast. Something healthy. Ice cream doesn’t count!
J xx
“You’re so certain I’m going to follow your orders, aren’t you?” she asked her phone, slurring her words just slightly. She scarfed back the last of the wine and left the empty glass on the coffee table. “But I will go to bed,” she conceded. “Not because you told me to, but because I’m tired.”
To: Jason Oliver
From: Catherine Richardson
Date: 8 January 2020 10.11 p.m.
Subject:I’m in bed!!!
Three exclamation marks because I’m very obedient ;p
Good night, Jase, chat tomorrow.
C x
* * *
Jason chuckled as he read her last email, before putting his phone down and switching off his bedside light. From memory, there wasn’t an obedient bone in Catherine’s body. She’d been sassy, bratty, impulsive, and fun. But not obedient. Never obedient. Oh, she’d followed instructions okay, if he’d kept on her case. But that was it. Mostly, she’d done whatever she wanted. After reading her emails, he reckoned she was still the same. A free spirit.
He tossed and turned for much of the night, remembering. Her. Them.
There had been no messy break-up, no drama; they’d just drifted apart as their lives had gone in different directions. She’d had her life in the city and he’d been focused on the Olympics. His dream. The Olympics had been what he’d lived and breathed. The idea of representing his country on horseback had consumed him. It still did. The gold that was his ultimate dream had eluded him, so far. His Olympics dream had been the most important thing in his life. More important than her. Was it still? He swallowed hard, trying to answer the question honestly. The truth was, he didn’t know. The thought of the gold medal—standing on the Olympic podium representing his country, feeling the weight of the gold medal hanging around his neck… That was the dream.
He’d never stopped caring about her, though, and still had a photo of her buried under a pile of books on his nightstand. Horse training books, mostly. Magazines and hard-covers both, the pages filled with newfangled training techniques and advertisements for horse nutrition. Full-page colour ads of him modelling riding clothes—the sponsorship deals he relied on to fund his Olympic campaign. Books he’d never found the time to read, and probably never would.
