So, today, part twelve of The Garden of Earthly Delights. If you missed the previous episode, you’ll probably find this one a little confusing, so I’d suggest reading part eleven first. (And if you’re completely new to Garden you can find the very first instalment – and read on through all the others – by clicking here.)

 

THE GARDEN OF EARTHLY DELIGHTS – PART TWELVE

‘Have you heard anything I’ve said, Grace?’

At the sound of her name, Grace jerked her head up to look at Jack, who was regarding her with a mixture of amusement and consternation.

‘I’m sorry?’

Jack’s left eyebrow went up, something that often happened when he was frustrated. He stood up from where he’d been perched on the edge of her desk, and crossed his arms.

Grace unconsciously sat up a little straighter.

‘We’re going for coffee.’

Oh, shit. The last thing she wanted was to be grilled by Jack about why she’d been so absent-minded this week. It was all Nick’s fault! The ultimatum he’d given her on Tuesday night was all she could think about. His words constantly swimming around inside her head. And that orgasm … How the hell had he made her come like that?

‘Grace, do I have to drag you out of here?’

Jack looked pointedly at her and then at her bag, which was lying on the floor next her desk.

‘No. Of course not.’ Hurriedly, she grabbed the handle of her tote and rose to her feet. ‘Let’s go.’

Jack nodded and started for the door, briefly turning his head towards Rita, whose eagle-like eyes were eagerly watching them. ‘Grace and I are having a quick meeting at Tram. We’ll be back in about half-an-hour.’

Rita nodded despite looking somewhat unconvinced by his explanation. ‘Of course. I’ll expect to see you around four o’clock, then.’ Her gaze darted back and forth between them; no doubt dreaming up some scandalous reason for their impromptu exit.

Grace hurried after Jack, whose long legs had already propelled him out of the studio; he stood waiting for her at the top of the stairs, but rather than diving straight in and asking her what the hell was going on, he regarded her thoughtfully.

They made their way from the office and out into the bright sunshine. It was another hot day, exceptionally warm, even for August, and they made idle chit-chat as they walked towards the little café the Fletcher and Associates staff often frequented. It was long and skinny, with the serving counter running the entire length of one the two longest walls. The owners had stripped back the plaster to expose the original brickwork in places and hung industrial lanterns from the ceiling. All of the furniture was reclaimed from flea markets and junk shops but whoever had chosen it had been careful to select pieces that looked retro-chic rather than shabby. The effect was clever and contemporary. More importantly, though, the coffee was amazing.

Jack gently pushed Grace towards the row of the tables that lined the left-hand wall.

‘You go and grab a seat while I order the drinks.’

Grace nodded. ‘Okay. I’ll have a flat white, please.’

She made her way over to the nearest vacant table and slid herself across one of the old tram-car benches that gave the café its name. Invariably, without Jack to distract her, her thoughts turned once again to Nick.

Ever since the ‘carpark incident’ as she’d come to think of it, it was like he’d set up residence in her head; a constant presence that pulled her attention no matter how hard she tried to shut him out. He’d given her three days to consider what they’d done. What he’d said. One minute, her grace period felt like a lifetime; the next, a mere blink of an eye.

‘Lady, you really are on a completely different planet this week.’

Grace realised she’d been staring off into space and looked down to see Jack sitting opposite her. ‘Coffee should be here in a minute.’ He leaned back and cocked his head to the side. ‘How did your dinner with Nick go the other night?’

Grace froze. Had Nick told him what had happened? That arrogant, son-of-a-bitch. If he’d talked about …

Clearly sensing the direction her thoughts had taken, Jack held up his hands, palms facing outwards, in a gesture of supplication.

‘Before you jump to any conclusions, no, Nick and I haven’t spoken about you.’ He paused. ‘You just haven’t been yourself this week, Grace. You’re quiet and distracted and that’s not like you. I just want to make sure everything’s okay.’

Their coffees arrived, saving her from an immediate response to Jack’s questioning. The waitress slid them across the table and Grace automatically lifted her spoon from the saucer and began stirring in the white foam on the surface of her drink. After a few long moments, she put the spoon back down and looked up to meet Jack’s questioning stare.

‘The dinner went fine, Jack. Nick just …’ She searched for the right words. ‘He helped me acknowledge something I’ve been deliberately shying away from.’ Grace took a sip of her coffee and savoured the feeling of the warm, smooth liquid running down her throat before continuing. She sighed. ‘Your friend can be very persuasive.’

Jack smiled slightly. ‘Oh?’

Grace blushed. ‘Never mind. Look, I realise I haven’t exactly been on the ball this week and I’m sorry. There’s no excuse.’

Jack leaned forwards. ‘Grace, you’re normally the model employee. Yes, you’ve been distracted the past few days – it’s been like talking to a brick wall sometimes – but you’ve still met all your deadlines and your clients seem happy. To be perfectly honest, I’ve been more worried about you and whether you’re okay. Not your bloody work.’

‘Thanks, Jack. I appreciate it.’

They drank their coffees in silence for a few moments.

‘So I take it you’re seeing Nick again?’

‘Yes. Tonight. At eight o’clock.’

…………..

The doorbell echoed in the recesses of Nick’s house and Grace nervously shifted her weight from one foot to the other. It felt strange to be here again – especially after her last chaotic departure.

The gentle evening breeze wafted up beneath her skirt and she couldn’t stop herself holding her skirt down with her hands as it caressed the bare skin of her pussy. The whole ‘no knickers’ rule made her a billion times more self-conscious. She couldn’t recall her skirt ever blowing up around her waist – even in a good stiff breeze – but, somehow, the fact that she had nothing on underneath seemed to make the threat of it happening far more likely.

The sound of footsteps became audible, getting louder as they moved closer to the closed door in front of her. Grace checked her watch. Just after 8.10pm. She’d gotten caught in some slow-moving Friday-night traffic near her house and it had taken slightly longer to get to Nick’s than she’d anticipated. Luckily, he lived on the rural outskirts of Winchester and, once she’d left the town, she’d been able to make up some of the time she’d lost. At least she was here now.

The footsteps came to a stop and Grace heard the sound of the latch being released just before the door opened.

And then Nick was standing on the other side of the threshold, his large frame looming over her. Grace swallowed and forced herself to smile up at him.

‘Hi.’

Nick leaned his shoulder against the jamb, folded his arms and remained silent. He didn’t smile back.

Grace felt her tentative grin falling off her face. Oh, lord. Had she got the day mixed up? ‘You did say this Friday at 8.00, didn’t you?’

His expression remained impassive. ‘I did.’

Silence.

When it became clear Nick wasn’t going to say anything further, she crossed her own arms and drew herself up. ‘Okay. What’s the problem, Nick? And why are you looking at me like that?’

‘Hands by your sides.’

The hard order made Grace jump, and without even thinking she unfolded her arms and let them drop.

Nick took a step towards her, over the threshold. He leaned in, his big body invading her personal space; it took every ounce of willpower Grace had not to step backwards, away from him.

‘Do you know what time it is, Grace?’ Nick’s voice was deceptively calm.

‘Er …’ She glanced down at her wrist. ‘Nearly a quarter past eight?’ Damn it! Why was she phrasing her answer as question? Sounding so uncertain? It wasn’t like she was a five-year-old who hadn’t yet learned to tell time.

‘And what time did I tell you to be here, Grace?’

That’s what this was all about? Her being a few minutes late?! One quick look at the hard set of Nick’s jaw, however, made Grace decide that holding in the sarcastic comment on the tip of her tongue might be wise. The man looked … not angry, exactly, but he most certainly annoyed.

Grace looked over her shoulder at the maple trees flanking Nick’s driveway, suddenly reluctant to look at him.

‘You told me to be here at eight o’clock.’

‘Actually, I told you to be here at eight o’clock sharp.’ Suddenly, his index finger was under her chin, lifting her face so that he could look into her eyes.

‘Do you think that you being late is respectful, Grace?’

‘Er, no?’  There she went again!

‘No,’ Nick confirmed, but he didn’t let her chin go. ‘I gave you a very simple set of instructions. Show up here at a specific time if you decide you want to continue what we’ve started.’

His eyes searched hers.

‘Disregarding what I asked of you shows a complete lack of respect for me and the relationship we’re trying to establish. And this is never going to work between us if that’s not there.’

Grace’s chest felt tight. He was right. It simply hadn’t really occurred to her that the understated aspects of her submission would be as important as the overtly sexual. She stayed silent, sensing Nick hadn’t finished.

‘It goes both ways, Grace,’ he said softly. ‘I have to earn your respect but you have to earn mine, too. You didn’t even call to tell me that you’d be late – or apologise for being so when you got here.’ He tilted her chin a little higher, exposing her throat. ‘Do you understand why I’m unhappy with you?’

Grace nodded – well, as much as she could with her head arched backwards. ‘Yes. I do. And I’m sorry for not arriving time,’ she added hastily. ‘The traffic was dreadful.’

‘Then next time you’ll leave earlier or phone to let me know you’re running behind, won’t you?’

‘Yes. Of course I will.’

‘Good.’ Nick stepped back from her and turned to go into the house. ‘Now, come inside and take off your clothes. It’s time we talked about what I do and don’t expect of you when you come here.’

‘Okay, that sounds … Wait! Did you just tell me to take off my clothes?’

Nick paused mid-step and turned to look at her over his shoulder, a smirk on his face. ‘I did.’

She felt herself turn bright red.

‘And Grace? Next time, it’s not ‘Did you just tell me to take off my clothes’, it’s ‘Did you just tell me to take off my clothes, Sir’.

…….

Enjoying the story? Click here to read part thirteen of The Garden of Earthly Delights.

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