‘Sure. What would you like to ask me?’
‘Do you ever do it back there, any more?’ I must have looked as confused as I felt because his hand slips under my crotch and gives a little push toward my butt. ‘You know, back there.’
‘Of all the things to ask! No, I don’t. Not since you anyway,’ I explain, not in the least expecting this change in topic.
My arsehole must remember the feelings of the first time as it starts to react to our discussion.
‘Why not?’
‘Why should I?’
‘Alex,’ he says flatly.
‘This question thing is ridiculous!’
He returns to the subject he wants to discuss. ‘But you loved it.’
‘You loved it and that’s why you did it. You were obsessed with it, ever since the butt plug night and still are by the sounds of it,’ I add.
‘But your body loved it.’
‘I’m not so sure …’
‘Oh, but yes it did. Your body loved it a lot.’
He rolls me over on to my stomach and simply cups his hand over my leathered behind. Tingles immediately zap through my body as if to prove the point.
‘Well, it may have, eventually, but I didn’t,’ I say quickly, attempting to close the topic. Why is he talking about this?
‘Isn’t it one and the same?’
‘Obviously not,’ I reply.
‘Really? So you are actually admitting that your mind and body might be thinking and feeling different things?’ Oh, here we go, our age-old discussion …
‘Why are you trying to trap me with your words, Jeremy? Honestly, you are making me doubt every assumption I’ve ever made in my life this weekend. It is really disturbing me.’
‘Ah, this just keeps getting more perfect by the hour,’ he says, laughing with confidence.
‘I don’t find it even vaguely amusing, actually.’ I say nothing more in the hope that he will move on to another topic of conversation.
‘I’m only asking because I’m involved in some research that deals with exactly this issue.’
‘What, arseholes? And back door entry?’ Now it is my turn to chuckle as I consider exactly what this sort of research might have involved back at uni. No doubt Jeremy would have eagerly volunteered.
‘No, not arseholes, Alex,’ he says more seriously, then jokes, ‘Well, not yet anyway, but I am happy to experiment with yours whenever you’re ready.’ He strategically strokes my leathered behind. ‘More about that later. Right now, we need to get going.’
‘Oh, do we have to? The sun feels so good it would be lovely just to stay here a little longer and have a siesta, don’t you think?’ I settle into a sideways sleeping position.
‘It would be, but it is not going to happen. I’m not wasting my hours with you sleeping when we are on a time limit. I am making the most of every minute.’
‘How much more can we fit in, Jeremy? Drinks, baths, dinner, dancing, singing, sex, orgasms, breakfast, bike riding, coffee, skydiving’ — I say with great emphasis — ‘and now a picnic. Isn’t that enough for a week, let alone one day? We’ve already done everything. Let’s rest a little, just half an hour or so. There’s still plenty of time.’ I say the words although I’ve no idea how much time is left or where we are. I place my hand out to try to find him and pull him toward me but he has moved.
‘You haven’t changed, have you? There’s so much more to experience, to awaken within you and so little time.’
‘Isn’t skydiving the ultimate experience? I promise you, Jeremy, I feel well and truly awakened, probably more so than I have for many decades.’ My mind wanders back to this morning and the pulsing sensation reignites in my groin from the memories.
‘I can assure you, sweetheart, I have barely begun.’ He strokes my cheeks and lightly kisses my lips. Shit! Barely begun? What more is there? My heart starts racing — again.
‘There is an amazing innocence about you, Alexa, even after all these years.’
I’m not sure whether to be offended or not.
‘We need to get moving now so we can rectify your innocence. There is no time to be lost.’
‘No. I’m not moving. What innocence? What are you talking about?’ I would never use that word to describe myself. I stay stubbornly seated.
He completely ignores me. ‘If you’re not going to move, I’ll just have to do it for you. A man’s work is never done these days.’ He sweeps me up from the blanket, his hand firmly grabbing my arse in the process as if to reinforce our conversation. After taking a few steps, he places me on a warm seat, fastens a seat belt around me and readjusts the sunglasses to ensure they are in the correct position, once again ensuring I am utterly in the dark.
‘We’re in a car?’ The engine roars to life, as does the rhythmic, tribal trance music coming from the speakers and off we go. We must be in a convertible given the wind once again whips around my ears as we hit the open road. At least this will be a little more comfortable for the journey back to the hotel. Although on second thoughts, after a long bike ride, a plane trip, the parachute jump and now being in a car, I have absolutely no idea where we are or where we could be heading. We could have crossed state lines for all I know. My curiosity regarding our whereabouts is peaking, as I’m sure is Jeremy’s intention. Even so, I dare not entertain asking the question. So I sit silently, enjoying the psychological space the music freely offers my mind.
Part V
The eye — it cannot choose but see
We cannot bid the ear be still
Our bodies feel; where’er they be
Against, or with our will
— W. Wordsworth 1847
Our journey continues and I am surprised at how energised I feel given my presumed emotional exhaustion. It is as if Jeremy has discovered and unleashed a fertile oasis within my body, which I’d previously regarded as a barren desert. The pores in my skin feel like they are oozing pheromones. I have never felt this intensely alive, so sensual, so sexual, so female. I consider my marriage to Robert as a contrast and my feelings are numb, almost non-existent. But how could they ever compare to the magnitude on the Richter scale that Jeremy creates — could anyone else create such emotional seismic shifts for me? My thoughts are interrupted by Jeremy’s voice as he places his hand on my knee.
‘Do you mind if we talk about some aspects of my research now, while we are driving?’
‘No, not at all.’
‘Just wanted to check, as you looked deep in thought.’ I shake my head to dislodge my feelings.
‘Please, I’d love to hear about it.’
‘Okay, great. As I mentioned earlier, there is a group of doctors and professors from around the globe collaborating to research the connections between physiology and cognitive neuropsychology in regards to sexual activity. I am now heavily involved as a result of my research into the explicit links between sex-related issues and depression. To cut a long story short, I had the good fortune of meeting up with Samuel a few months ago in Hong Kong when both our flights were cancelled due to volcanic ash, so we had the rare opportunity to discuss our work in detail.’
‘Ah, so that explains why he was so up to speed with your work.’
‘No doubt when you met for lunch Sam informed you of their research into the female orgasm and the scientific discrepancies and medical controversy regarding ejaculation.’
I nod in confirmation, fully absorbed in his words. I love it when he is in professional mode and his work fascinates me. I can hear the passion in his voice.
‘We ended up brainstorming the possibility of developing a formula produced from natural serotonin that would not adversely affect the chemical balance of the human brain in the medium to long-term. After much testing and analysis in our labs, we discovered there are potential links between our areas of research, given certain scenarios, that significantly reduce the likelihood of depression — particularly involving the concept of “adult play”. This indirectly led us to analysing the secret
ion of fluids from female orgasm for each blood type.’
‘Wow, that sounds amazing.’ This is Jeremy at his best, why he is recognised globally for his research. I can’t help but be in awe of his capabilities and the way in which his tangential mind operates to find solutions others completely miss. He is always open to exploring the unlikely.
‘We believe there is another potential link, one that we haven’t explored in detail as yet, which relates to our discussion earlier.’
He pauses and I sense a slight hesitation in his voice.
‘It involves sensory connectivity, the neural pathways that may exist between the body and brain in relation to sexual activity, and the corresponding hormones secreted and released. We need to secure a Research Psychologist before we can progress with our plans for experimentation. Your specific expertise is highly sought after, particularly on a project of this nature and our review board specifically asked me to discuss it with you and assess your interest in the role.’
Jeremy knows full well that professional flattery will get him everywhere and this subject is close to my heart. He is playing his cards well and his timing, as usual, is perfect, especially given the state I’m currently in — that he, in fact, is responsible for.
‘You really are a clever man, Jeremy.’
‘Thank you, as you are a clever woman,’ he says with a smile in his voice. ‘I can provide you with more information, if you’re willing to consider it. It would mean you’d be working closely with myself, Samuel, and Ed — Professor Applegate in the US, that is — and Dr Lauren Bertrand in France, she’s a prominent chemist, along with Professor Schindler, a German neuroscientist, and one or two others from the UK we are in the process of confirming. It would involve a bit of travel, you know, from time to time …’ His voice trails off, as he knows this has been an issue for me in the past. ‘We’d all immensely value your involvement, Dr Blake. You come highly recommended regardless of your connection to me and you are the team’s first choice in filling the role. Your lecture on Friday sealed the deal from our perspective,’ he adds seriously.
‘Gosh, I’m not sure what to say … It sounds incredible, Jeremy.’ I am secretly thrilled they are even considering me and so pleased we can still have a professional conversation after everything we have been through for the last however many hours. What an opportunity, to work with such distinguished minds in their chosen fields. It sounds like a professional dream come true. I consider Elizabeth and Jordan. They are both older now, at school full-time and have their own friends and activities. I think of the endless pick-ups and drop-offs — soccer practice, piano lessons, dancing, gymnastics. Kids have busy lives themselves, these days. They are more able to cope with me being away now, I reason, and a little time away here and there would be exciting, good for me to be living my own life. Robert’s job has the flexibility to work around school hours more easily than my career. I have put so many other opportunities on the back burner for my family, maybe now is the time to finally say yes. How would I feel if I let a chance like this slip by?
‘Actually, I’d love to be involved. Count me in,’ I say decisively.
‘Honestly? Hey, that’s great! We’ve no doubt having someone like you on the team will make all the difference to the practical applications of our analysis.’
He really is in flattery mode, I think to myself.
‘Thanks, Jeremy, I really appreciate it.’ It’s like receiving accolades for years of hard work — I’m completely chuffed.
‘And just so you are perfectly clear, I’m expecting you to be personally involved in both the conceptual development of our theories and their application. So, no more sitting on the sidelines, Alexa. Do you understand what I am saying?’
My stomach does a full somersault as I realise the meaning of his words.
‘Really?’ Do I still want this?
‘We don’t break new ground and make life-changing discoveries without challenging convention, and that has to begin with ourselves. Your willingness to engage in and experience both sides of the experimentation process will be paramount to our success. We are depending on it, so it is non-negotiable for us.’
My lover has instantaneously transformed into my new boss. Incomprehensibly, my groin warms in anticipation of what could be ahead of me. Oh, jeez, Louise! Both sides of the experiment?
Our journey suddenly comes to an abrupt end, as does our discussion. I’d anticipated a much longer ride back to the hotel. Jeremy is at the door in seconds and carefully guides me out of the car.
‘Well, here we are. How are you feeling?’
‘Slightly shocked by your last comments, still blind, of course, but perfectly well otherwise.’ He chuckles as I stretch.
‘Can I take care of the car for you, sir?’ The voice startles me. I haven’t heard another voice for quite some time.
‘Of course, thanks.’ I hear the tinkle of keys whizz past.
He takes my hand and leads me up some steps. I feel him reading my face and he no doubt wonders when I’ll ask something about where we are, but I keep deliberately quiet. I hear a door open.
‘Greetings, sir, welcome.’ A chirpy male voice greets us from nearby.
I’m disappointed there isn’t a good morning, afternoon or evening to give me a sense of time. Is everyone conspiring to keep me in the dark? Where could we possibly be now? It’s all sounding very formal. I feel conspicuous about being blind in yet another new environment and tentatively raise a hand to my eyes.
‘Stop fiddling, Alex, you look fine. Nobody will notice anything.’
‘Easy for you to say.’ I hold on to his hand a little more firmly.
‘Please make your way to reception, sir. Your luggage has been taken care of.’
‘Luggage?’ I whisper toward him, as we move on. ‘We don’t have any.’
Our footsteps echo around the expanse of the room. The rubber soles of our boots are squeaking against a hard marble floor.
‘Welcome, Dr Quinn, we have been awaiting your arrival. We are so pleased you have made it on time. Everything is arranged, so please follow me. If we can be of service in any way, don’t hesitate to ask.’
‘That’s very kind of you. Thank you.’
We take a few steps as someone presses the button for the lift.
‘Have you had a good day thus far?’
‘We have had a great day, thank you, and very much looking forward to settling in here.’
‘Excellent, sir. We certainly hope you enjoy the experience we have to offer.’
I feel like I’m somewhere between being the invisible woman and the giant pimple on a face that everyone can see but is carefully choosing to ignore. Butterflies commence their flight once again in my stomach … you would think I’d be accustomed to their presence by now. The lift doors open, and for some reason I have the sense that we are travelling down, not up. I’m steered out of the lift.
‘As discussed, this entire floor is yours and there will be no disturbances unless otherwise arranged. We hope you have a very enjoyable stay.’
‘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 o
ut 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.