“She’s great, isn’t she?” Jennifer smiles.
“She sure is,” I agree. “I don’t know what I’d have done without her.”
Maybe I’m just imagining it, I think. She seems to be brightening up a little.
But even so, I just can’t help but shake the feeling that she’s got something else on her mind ...
Twenty-Nine
Jennifer
This should be great.I mean, here I am, having a picnic in this beautiful countryside with a man so handsome he looksunreal– like something out of a magazine – not to mention that amazing dark green sports car of his parked at the bottom of the hill, sparkling in the midday sun.
I should be enjoying myself, right?
So why do I still feel so crappy ...
I’m doing my best to hide it, but I can tell he’s picked up on my weird mood.
I think part of it is my dream last night. I just can’t shake the feeling it’s left me with; those horrible things it stirred up in me again – thoughts and feelings I thought I’d long since buried.
But on top of that, this all feels kind of bittersweet, because soon this week is going to come to an end.
Soon we’ll have to say goodbye.
And then what?
Just focus on the money, I tell myself.
But whereas before that would have comforted me, now it just kind of feels ... hollow.
You see, I guess one of the things I’ve learnt from Marcus this week is that money doesn’t necessarily buy you happiness ...
Well, I guess the best thing I can do right now is justenjoy this– enjoy it while it lasts.
Thirty
Jennifer
“I want you naked this instant,”he says, his voice stern and deep, stretched taut with desire.
It’s nighttime now, and Istilldon’t know what’s gonna happen after this. I havesomany questions, so many things I still want to ask him – but I just can’t bring myself.
Maybe it’s because I don’t want to spoil this moment.
I just want to enjoy the remaining time we have together to its fullest.
I shiver as I undress for him, my hard puckered nipples giving away the fact that I’m already more than ready for whatever he has planned for us this evening.
“Give those to me,” he says as I step out of my pretty black panties with their hot pink bows, and by now I think I know exactly what he plans to do with them.
Sure enough, the very moment I’ve handed them to him, he’s torn them into long strips, just like he did that other night, and as if I can read his mind, I offer my wrists to him, pressed together, ready to be bound tightly.
But to my surprise, at this he shakes his head.
“No, Jennifer,” he explains. “Tonight I won’t be binding your wriststogether,but to the bedposts.”
I dart a glance at the imposing four-poster bedframe that stands in the center of his room, imagining myself bound tightly to it.
