‘Oh.’ He relaxed his grip. ‘You’re back.’
‘You’re gardening.’
‘Why not? Weather like this, I didn’t want to be stuck in that attic. It’s not like anyone can see in here.’
‘No. I’m not complaining. The place needs a good going over. It’s been left to rot for too long.’
He smirked at that. ‘Are you trying to tell me something?’
‘Like what?’
‘Like, you know, secret gardens that need seeing to. Thought you were giving me a hint.’ He reached up to hold on to the branch of a low tree beside him, leaning into it, looking broad-chested, and slim-hipped, and ready to pounce.
‘You’ve got sex on the brain,’ she told him, pouting back at him, amazed at how quickly he could rev her libido from nought to sixty.
‘I’d rather have it on the grass,’ he said.
‘You’ll have to catch me first,’ she cried, running off into the tangle of weeds and thicket that must once have been a beautiful garden.
He lunged after her, causing her to shriek with exhilaration, and gave chase. A spirited pursuit took them into the four corners of the grounds, dashing through rotting gazebos and dodging around moss-covered fountains.
‘You might as well give in,’ he panted, as they circled a summerhouse whose white-painted wrought iron had peeled while the floor was eaten away by woodlice. ‘There’s no way you can get away from me.’
‘Oh dear, how awful,’ said Jenna, in parody of a distressed cartoon heroine. ‘Whatever shall become of me?’
‘I won’t be too hard on you if you give in now,’ he promised.
‘And if I don’t?’
‘If you don’t …’
He made a sudden pounce, sending her screaming into the wilderness again, but she had given him too much leeway now and he caught her in seconds.
They fell to the ground in a tangle.
The dry grasses tickled Jenna’s legs and she thought she’d sat on a thistle because something was prickling her bottom, but that was the least of her worries. On top of her, while she thrashed, and flailed, and giggled, and shrieked, was Jason, straddling her and holding her down by the arms.
‘Oh dear,’ he said, with undisguised relish. ‘Somebody’s in a bit of trouble here. Whatever is she going to do?’
‘Get off me, you git.’
‘Whatever is she going to get? I think she knows.’
Jenna tried to raise her knee, to shove him off, but there was no chance. Jason had been working, physically hard, over the last few days, with an obvious impact on his strength. He held her effortlessly, tickling her with a handful of grass stalks until she couldn’t bear it any longer.
He flipped her over on to her front, once his sadistic enjoyment of this was past its peak. She felt the hard, warm ground crush her breasts, the thistle now irritating her upper thigh below the hem of the crisp cotton shorts she wore.
‘Ouch,’ she hissed, and he paused in his kissing of the back of her neck.
‘What? I haven’t started yet.’
‘Something’s prickling my leg. And what do you mean, haven’t started? Started what?’
‘Wait and see,’ he said, reaching underneath her and plucking the thistle from the dry earth. That was better, at least.
His hands, now intent on pleasuring rather than tormenting her, lifted her vest and began to knead at her back and shoulders. They were still tense after her visit with his mother, and his touch brought out deep sighs of satisfaction as the knots unwound. He ground his hips over her as he worked, until she felt, quite unmistakably, his erection growing against her rounded backside. The gentle to-and-fro rocked her into a state of relaxed sensuality, heightened by the exhilaration of their earlier chasing game. She was caught, but she wanted to be, and now he was preparing her.
The thought was delightful.