You Don't Own Me(160)

‘Is that what you wanted?’ he asks.

I turn over so I too am facing the ceiling. ‘You ought to be careful. I was going to stab you with a kitchen knife.’

He chuckles. ‘Is that how you reward someone who brings your most secret fantasy to life?’

I turn to my side and kiss him on the lips. ‘Thank you. That is one hell of a fuck. I will never forget that one. I loved being raped by you.’

‘When did you know it was me?’

‘One second after I woke up, but it was fun to pretend.’

‘I brought something for you,’ he says softly.

‘Is it small and expensive?’ I joke, to cover my surprise and elation that he has thought of me while he was away and bought me something.

‘Yeah,’ he says and switches on a table lamp. I blink in the sudden glare. With a smug look he straps a bracelet on my wrist.

I lift my wrist and look at it. Even in the dim light of the lampshade it shimmers like blue fire. ‘Jesus. Is it real?’ I gasp.

‘Of course.’

‘My God.’ I exclaim, and sitting up stare at my wrist in shock. ‘It’s…stunning.’ I turn to look at him.

He smiles indulgently. So this is what mistresses the world over feel. They get showered with pretty stones by men wearing indulgent expressions. It might bore me later but at this moment I can see the attraction of the job.

‘I want to say you shouldn’t have, but I can’t, because I fucking love it.’ I throw my arms around him and whoop with joy. Holding aloft my hand, I admire it. I pull away from his neck. ‘What kind of stones are these?’

‘Blue diamonds.’

‘Oh, Lana has a pink diamond that cost the earth itself, but I’ve never seen a blue diamond before.’

‘Now you have.’

‘Oh, darling. I could so fall in love with you, when you behave like this,’ I quip. It’s a joke, obviously, but it doesn’t come out right.





Eleven


This is the day of my first skydive. I wake up excited and the feeling does not go away until he walks through the door.

‘Hey,’ I say.

‘You ready?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Scared?’

‘Are you?’

‘Me?’

‘Yeah, you.’

‘I’m not like anybody you know, Billie. I don’t get scared of danger. I get excited.’

We stare at each other. Every day I become more and more intrigued by him.

‘Let’s go then,’ I say.

When we get downstairs Jaron steers me toward a Pagani Huayra with gulf wing doors. I stop suddenly.

‘Is that yours?’ I ask in a shocked tone.

‘Last time I looked, yeah.’

‘Wow!’ I squeal, running my eyes over the aluminum and glass trimmings. ‘I love this baby.’

He chuckles. ‘Its name means god of the winds in Quechua.’

‘And why haven’t you told me about this car before?’ I demand aggressively as I start walking toward it.

He clicks his remote and the wings go out and up.

‘Whoa,’ I cry with serious admiration, and dash toward the driver’s seat. He pulls me back by my jacket. I turn around and look at him enquiringly.

‘You’re in the passenger seat,’ he says with his eyebrows raised.

‘Can I at least drive on the way back?’

‘Maybe. Let’s see how you feel after your jump.’

‘OK,’ I agree, and slide into the plush leather seat, as happy as I have ever been in my life. ‘I always saw you as an all black McLaren P1 guy.’

He glances at me curiously. ‘Why?’

‘I don’t know, but I was wrong. This actually suits you perfectly.’

As soon as we hit the motorway Jaron puts his foot on the accelerator and the car zooms forward so fast I actually feel a knot of fear and excitement in my belly. No wonder he didn’t want me to drive, if this is what he calls driving. We fly along, tearing past the rolling countryside until we turn off at the road leading to the airfield.

Jaron hauls our equipment out of the car and we go into the low building. He is well known there and so I am in a large locker room kitting myself out in a jumpsuit that goes over my clothes, gloves, goggles, and a helmet. Next is the harness. I step into it and Jaron pulls it up over my shoulders, and tightens all the straps to make it nice and secure. He checks it.

‘All right?’

‘A OK,’ I say although a whole swarm of butterflies has invaded my belly at the thought that soon I will be jumping out of a plane.

‘OK, face down on the floor,’ he says.

‘What do you mean?’

‘I’ll show you what position to free fall in.’

I lie on the floor, and he tells me to bend my legs at the knee and lift them about six inches in the air. We practice a few more moves and Jaron straps on his parachute.