The Love Box Experiment

Chapter Eighteen

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN.

Paul waited in his car down a side road, away from where the Mums parked to pick up their children. Many of the girls and boys walked home or got on buses in the Fulham Road.

Paul watched her stroll up to the BMW and climb in. He leaned across to kiss her, put his arm around her and said, 'how was it, first day and all that?'

'It feels like I've taken a backward step. Like I've gone from a young woman to a school girl. Which is what I am.' She radiated a smile which burned a hole into Paul, which made him feel strangely protective.

He waited, aware she wanted to say something else.

She said, 'do you still love me?' she shrugged, 'now that I'm back at school.'

'I totally love you. No ifs or buts.' He ran his hand along the back of her neck. 'Why do you ask?'

'Oh, you know. We girls need to be told this all the time.' Katie gave him a French kiss. 'We better go and do what the therapist told us to do.'

Paul drove towards Eaton Square. He had decided he wouldn't tell Katie the news from America, the collapse of his shares and the prospect of going broke. Paul reasoned to himself that Katie would have enough to think about at the start of the new term. Besides, a greater worry just now was the challenge of meeting her parents. The so-called abduction of their daughter, the images on his laptop, and he presumed also they might know he had taken Katie's virginity away. Although the sex was up to Katie, Paul could imagine it would be another accusation thrown his way. He felt he deserved it.

-O-

Katie had determined she wouldn't tell Paul of the pregnancy. Not yet anyway. She glanced to her right to see the man who was driving her to his studio. Aged twenty-seven, rich, caring, handsome and in love with her. That made for a good daddy . . . right? But Katie could see the problems, a multitude of problems, that made her decision easier to make. She couldn't guess what Paul would want or say. And didn't want his opinion until she had thought it through; until she had made up her mind. 

They parked outside the studio and went inside. There, on the studio floor, were the remains of two computers. 'What's happened?'

'The only way to make sure your images are destroyed,' he said, and took her hand to go upstairs. 

'Shall we clear up the mess?'

'Nope,' he laughed, as he drew shut the curtains in the sitting room.

Katie felt the anticipation clench her insides. The school uniform didn't do her any favours and told Paul that.

He came over. 'Let me think,' he smiled, 'purple school jacket over a sensible white open-neck shirt, matching purple skirt, complimented by the long black socks and black shoes. Hmm,' he feigned deep thought. 'I think we have to discard the lot, have a shower, and tie you down.' He blinked very deliberately, slowly, and Katie experienced an adrenaline rush to her tummy.

She knew why her core was churning. It wasn't the strip to come, nor the shower in a few minutes. It was . . . she recognised her need for the specific . . . something she didn't remember telling Paul about . . . the dream she sometimes had.

Her voice nearly faltered. 'You said, tie me down.' Katie stopped, unsure how much to tell, how much to trust. 'I want to be tied and . . .'

Paul seemed to sense the embarrassment. He kissed her, his fingers held her head having penetrated deep into her hair. 'And . . . '

What to tell, thought Katie. 'Do you have a mask or blindfold?' There. She had said it, and he didn't die of shock.