‘Thank you very much. We certainly intend to.’
I hear the lift disappear into the distance. I realise I’m on shaky ground again, being in a new place. I had memorised most of the layout of the penthouse suite which had at least provided me with some reassurance of my surroundings.
Jeremy takes my hands and leads me to a lounge. ‘Here, have a seat, try to relax. Would you like a drink?’
‘Yes, that’d be great, thanks,’ I say, relieved.
He hands me a chilled glass filled with a mix of berry flavours. I can taste the likes of cranberries, raspberries and blueberries blended in creamy yogurt. Not at all what I was expecting.
‘Certainly a potent mix of antioxidants in this.’
‘You are no use to me sick, Alexa. I need to keep your immune system humming.’
What a strange thing to say.
‘Do you mind if I take a quick shower after this drink? I’d love to get out of these clothes.’
‘Yes to the former, and I’ll help you with the latter.’ He sounds a little distracted, although I have no idea why. He puts my drink down and unzips and unbuckles here, there and everywhere. It is such a relief to have these heavy clothes removed, I feel at least five kilos lighter.
He assists me in putting on a T-shirt and gym pants and I’m grateful not to be left solely in the French knickers. I stretch my feet and allow my toes to sink into the luxurious thickness of the carpet. It feels good to be free of the boots.
He hands my drink back after guiding me back to the lounge.
‘Shower?’
‘I said yes, I do mind if you take a shower. It’s not time to wash yet.’ I’m a little stunned by his controlling response.
‘Well, you certainly are on a strict schedule, Jeremy, aren’t you? I didn’t realise we were being timed to the minute!’
‘There are many things you haven’t realised yet, sweetheart,’ he whispers close to my ear, his voice sounding shadowed, dark. A shiver races right down my spine to my tailbone.
‘Do you feel more comfortable now?’ His voice is back to normal.
‘Oh, ah, yes, much better, although I’d still love a shower.’ I find his thigh and caress it with my hand. ‘Are you sure I can’t persuade you to take a shower with me?’ I start edging my way off the seat.
‘No. Now sit.’ This time I am aghast at his order. His hands push me firmly back into the lounge. My mouth is open in shock. ‘Please, sit down. We need to conclude our discussion, come to some agreement.’ His tone is only slightly more gentle.
Oh, great, I need a shower and he needs to talk.
‘Fine. I’ll smell and you talk,’ I say as defiantly as I can. ‘Then I’ll shower.’ Making sure it is a statement rather than a question.
He places my drink back in my hands and shifts closer to me on the lounge.
‘You know I respect you?’
‘Most of the time, I suppose.’
‘Alex!’ He can sound so commanding with one word. If only I had that skill. Obviously this is to be a serious conversation.
‘Yes, okay, I know.’
‘I want to play with you, create some edginess. I want to take you to a place you have never dared to go, give you an opportunity to embrace your sexuality like you truly never believed possible.’
Seriously in overdrive, yet again! His voice is engaging and tantalising, teasing my sex and my mind simultaneously. How does he do this to me? Just using words, for god’s sake. I temper my breathing as I take a moment to absorb his statement.
‘We have been playing with each other since we first met, Jeremy, and this weekend has been a never-ending physical, mental and emotional roller-coaster of “play”, to use your word. Where else could you possibly take me?’
‘But you’ve enjoyed it so far, haven’t you? You’ve said so yourself.’
I sigh before answering.
‘As much as I hate admitting it to you out loud, yes, I’ve loved it. It scares me, though, at the same time.’ I pause as I reflect back on our conversation in the car and how it links to theories of play. ‘You know some psychologists believe that play is perhaps the most powerful source of joy humans can experience — as it encompasses both fun and fear. Some believe it can even protect against depression —’
I stop myself as the word leaves my lips and it finally dawns on me. I’ve been so comprehensively distracted by him that I have been embarrassingly slow on the uptake. ‘This is what you want to explore further. This is what you have been doing, ensuring I’m kept on a roller-coaster ride of fun and fear!’
‘Exactly, Alexa, hopefully now you understand. The concept being that “real” play is essentially a simulated anxiety attack.’
‘Well, you’ve given me plenty of those since Friday. So, if that is what you have been hoping for, you have well and truly succeeded.’
I can’t help but wonder if I’m still missing something … is there more to this? I feel like he has been deliberately keeping me in the dark, literally and figuratively since we met. Now he is doing the slow reveal on the real purpose of the weekend. Is he creating experiences enabling me to learn more about how I handle stress, or ‘play’ as he calls it, or am I merely a pawn in some greater game?
‘I have been involved in the studies analysing the amygdala, the cell clusters in the brain specialising in fear, and how they relay messages to the frontal lobes of the brain.’
Of course he has.
‘And I’m particularly interested in investigating dopamine reward circuits and the release of chemicals such as opiods. Our initial data analysis shows an unexpected correlation to Sam’s work from a pleasure perspective. This is why we need to study it more thoroughly.’ His comments put me on a new learning curve, his intelligence more prominent than ever.
‘I must admit I never anticipated feeling like this. I can’t ever recall a time when my body and mind have been on higher alert, or more stimulated, or aroused, I suppose you could say. I am literally buzzing inside and out, with both fear and pleasure.’
‘Fascinating, that’s great. It means it’s all working.’ He sounds lost in his thoughts.
‘What’s working, Jeremy? Where are you going with this, anyway?’
‘That is another two questions, Alexa.’
I am completely exasperated. He completely ignores my exasperation.
‘I want to play harder, I want to push the boundaries further between you and I.’
‘Push the boundaries. How much more could you push?’ My voice sounding instantly high-pitched, staccato. More questions! ‘Oh, sorry, I didn’t mean to ask …’ I trail off, not knowing what to say. He is turning me into a submissive, blind mute.
Oh, dear god. Another ‘aha’ moment … and now it comes full circle. Of course there is more to it; when is there not with Jeremy? How could I have been so naive? My thesis! He really does want to take me to a place I have never been, never dared to go. I knew I should never have given him a copy of the damn thing, I knew when I did I might live to regret it. Who would have thought it would come back to haunt me after so many years?
‘I’m going to push you, further than we ever have, but I want you to know that I will ensure you are safe, looked after.’
‘And you want me to be the experiment for your research, Jeremy, don’t you? Just admit it.’
‘Yes, I do.’ I’m a little shocked that he