‘You don’t make me do anything,’ I said.
‘Unless you want me to,’ he said after a long pause. ‘And I’m not at all sure you don’t.’
‘Get lost.’ I was dressed now, bar my flip-flops. I picked them up and hurried to the door, much too conscious of the way my shorts rubbed against my warm bottom. He did that to you. You let him. You loved it.
‘Perhaps I should,’ he said.
He didn’t mean it. He couldn’t mean that, could he?
I turned and said, ‘Thank you, sir,’ in my most sarcastic tone, then I ran out of the Hall and back to the car as fast as I could go.
Chapter Ten
I didn’t want him to get lost. I wanted to see this through, much as I suspected
it might destroy me emotionally.
I spent the whole night after our encounter with my hand between my legs, coming over and over again as I thought of what he had done to me and how it had made me feel. Our urgent, sweaty encounter on the lawn also featured heavily in my nocturnal envisionings and I relived it all, gloating over the most embarrassing, most shameful moments.
Joss knew what got me hot. He knew he had me where he wanted me.
I was pinned down as securely as if he’d tied me to his bed.
Would he tie me to his bed?
Oh, God. I needed to come again.
He didn’t get in touch for a couple of days and I irritated myself by constantly checking my phone for messages. I had promised myself I wouldn’t obsess over him and yet here I was, on the end of his string again.
But all those things he said … did he mean them? Did he want to be my man? Had he really changed or was it all calculated, a trick to get me into the role of on-tap shag until he got what he wanted and moved on?
On Tuesday afternoon I was interviewing a councillor about his amazing new anti-dog-fouling strategy when my phone rang and I saw it was Joss.
I couldn’t take the call, which was agony, but I wrapped up the interview in double-quick time and left my councillor to the tender mercies of Kai while I found a quiet spot to call Joss back.
‘Lulu? Sorry, were you busy?’
‘Nothing exciting, just an interview.’
‘I just wanted to let you know I’d been in for the test. Won’t get some of the results for a few days, but the good news is I’m clear for HIV and trichomoniasis. I’d say that was worth celebrating, wouldn’t you? Not that I’ve any idea whatsoever what trichomoniasis is.’
‘I can’t meet you. I’ve got to go to the Upper Brinkleton Dramatic Society’s “Songs From The Shows” evening.’
‘Shame. What about the weekend then?’
‘Thought you were going to London.’
I had plans to sneak into the woods through the secret entrance and see if I could spy on Joss’s unwelcome guests.
‘I needn’t go to town. I just have to be out of the Hall,’ he said.
‘You could book into the Tylney Grange?’ I suggested.
‘Can’t possibly afford it, I’m afraid. I was thinking … perhaps I might hire a … caravan.’
‘Off Mrs Wragg?’ I rather shouted it, attracting the attention of Kai and the councillor and messing up their portrait shot. ‘Are you serious?’
‘Why not? I need accommodation and she offers it. I don’t want to go to London. I want to see you.’