Day 4: Part 3

Jasper's O-Face

I slept for hours.

Jasper had picked me up from the floor of the playroom and had carried me to the bedroom I had occupied the last time I had stayed there. It was still the same room, but there was a new level of homeliness to it; varied decorations that hadn't been there previously; a series of different candles, some scented lotion by a brand I didn't recognize, and an entire closet full of clothes.

Jasper laid me down on the bed.

When I awoke, he was sitting on the edge of my bed with a China teacup in one hand and its saucer in the other. There was an odd, intricate pattern on the white glass, almost like a vine surrounded by flowers, but more abstract. The cup and the saucer were small and delicate and I felt an urge to rip it from his steady fingers and smash it on the ground.

Because nothing so fragile and inherently beautiful should ever be held like that.

He looked at the fragmented glass on the ground. I looked at his face. His hands were stilled poised as though he was holding the items and hadn't resisted me grabbing it. The coffee inside it burned my hands and forearms and I blinked my eyes quickly to clear them of tears so I could watch his face.

He got up from the bed without looking at me and walked towards the door.

"Clean it up," he said. "Then read the contents of the folder before you join Tanya and I for dinner. They are on the armoire."

He shut the door behind him and I threw a pillow at it in a very petulant sort of way. The green folder was lying on top of the dresser by the bathroom door so I plodded over to it and, after a moment of fraught indecision, decided to settle myself right there on the floor. There were three sheets of paper inside the folder, broken into two categories: a list of House Rules, and a consent form. Both were written on thick, off-white parchment with a disgustingly tidy scrawl I assumed, without reason, to be Jasper's.

Consent Form

I, Bella Swan, swear to uphold the House Rules without fail. If I renege, I must immediately consult Jasper Whitlock for further instruction.

Underneath, was a place for me to sign and date. I actually rolled my eyes before tossing it with haphazardly across the room, unsurprised – and slightly annoyed – to see it landing the shattered remnants of Jasper's morning coffee. After a moment of contemplation, in which I tried to push down my all-encompassing laziness, I watched the edges of the parchment turn dark and drop under the weight of the liquid.

Clearly, you're distraught.

I pulled out the House Rules.

House Rules

There is to be no drugs, no smoking, and no gratuitous use of profanity within the house. Alcohol use must be kept to a minimum. Smoking may be done outside and cigarettes must be disposed of in the proper manner.

Occupants will have free roam of the house. All areas of the house are permissible, expect the playroom, which will be locked when not in use. If entering a private bedroom or bathing area, please ask permission. Tanya is the only exception, unless otherwise stated.

Guests are not permitted unless permission is given. No exceptions.

All food, clothing, and toiletries are for your use. No permission is necessary. The only exceptions are Tanya's and my clothing, which are off-limits. Tanya has purchased clothing items for you. They are only to be used by Tanya with your permission.

Tanya is most comfortable when she is assisting guests and house members on a constant basis. Refer to Tanya whenever a need arises. Examples include showering, food preparation, and laundry.

I expect the playroom and the specific relationship Tanya and I have to remain secret to anyone unaware. It may only be discussed within the house.

Because you are not my sub, you are free to come and go as you please. However, I ask that you inform either Tanya or myself on location and timeframe, in order to guarantee your safety.

I grinned.

This was glorious.

Dinner was as awkward and embarrassing as I had expected. Instead of his usual aloofness and careful disregard of anyone else's presence, he had reverted back to that . . . looking thing he often did. I imagined myself as a house and a statue again, and watched his eyes looking at my face; the way his expression didn't change when I licked my lips or dribbled pumpkin soup down my chin. It was unnerving and seriously pissing me off.

The inner sleeve of the table had been replaced sometime between when I had come over for dinner a few nights ago and this awkward staring contest Jasper was currently attempting to embroil me in. The table now sat six with Jasper at one end, me at the other, and Tanya in the middle. She had scooted her black, leather dining chair over towards Jasper until her knife and his fork overlapped on the table. A single cloth napkin rested under both. I crinkled my nose.

At first, I had tried to match his stare second for second. I had even twitched my eyebrow up in a suggestive manner and slowly licked my lips. He just blinked, once, and kept right on staring. Eventually, anger turned into embarrassment and I had conceded defeat with a sigh.

"Master," Tanya said, tentatively, after a few minutes of watching Jasper sit stiff with a fork in his hand. "Don't you like the food?"

He didn't look at her. "The food is wonderful, Tanya, as always."

She pursed her lips in a strange way and glanced many times between his face, which was directed awkwardly in my direction, and his plate. Then she looked down at hers.

After a few more moments, I narrowed my eyes at him and dropped my fork loudly on my plate. I let the ringing of the plate subside before I spoke. "Is this a pissing contest or something? Some childish 'I bet she'll blink first before I do' thing?"

"Pardon?" he asked, not a single muscle, aside from whatever the fuck controlled his mouth, letting me know how he felt about my outburst.

"Is there something you want to say to me?"

"Nothing of any importance," he said.

"Then would you stop staring at me? It's making it kind of hard to eat this delicious dinner in front of me and I see that you are so busy looking at my face that you haven't eaten anything either. It's weird, so knock it off."

Jasper pulled his lips over his teeth, turning the corners of his mouth upward. "How perfectly classy of you, Bella. You must not have read the House Rules as I had requested."

"House Rul – "

"'Gratuitous use of swearing,'" Jasper said calmly and, for the first time, scooping up some of the random rice concoction on his plate. He put it in his mouth and chewed, still looking at me.

"One use of fucking and it's gratuitous?" I snapped.

"Pissing is not acceptable, either," he scooped up another piece of food. "It appears I will have to create a list of words that are impermissible."

"Then what the hell is the point of gratuitous if you're not going to let me say what ever the fuck I want?"

That seemed to have broken him. He dropped his fork, hard, onto his plate, causing both Tanya and I to jump. "You may be excused, Bella."

"I don't want to be excused. I want to be able to eat my food without any awkward staring contests from you, Jasper."

"Forgive me," Jasper said, "I seemed to have forgotten you only respond to plebeian bluntness – "

"Plebeian," I exhaled, suddenly tired. "Seriously?"

"Please leave the table, Bella."

"Fine," I said curtly. "Where would you like me to go, since I seem to be at your command?"

For some reason, Tanya flushed red. Jasper sighed. There was a patient condescension in the heave of his chest.

"Where ever you wish, Bella."

I cast a hopefully withering look in his general direction and stomped back up the stairs, making as much noise as I possible could both on the second floor and the third before shutting the heavy wooden door of my bedroom behind me with as much force as I could managed.

Well done, Bella. Now that you've officially gotten yourself kicked out of the house, what are your plans, exactly?

I sat down in the middle of the sprawling, four-poster bed, bringing my knees to my chest and wrapped my arms around them.

First, I decided to take a shower. However, once I saw the packet of lavender bath beads on the corner of the tub, and after upending the box on the floor and stomping on them, I left. Then, I decided to look at my closet.

It was a walk-in closet with a mirror on the far end and an absurdly large number of random clothing items, organized first by season and then color. The items all had the tags still affixed to them and I found amusement in flipping each over and staring at the prices. A shirt work 50 dollars. A sweater worth 95. A purse worth 300. And a pair of shoes, so tall and made of such a starchy, tweed material I swore I'd burn them before I ever wore them, worth 500.

I almost laughed. There were thousands of dollars worth of clothing in here . . . purchased solely for me. I sat down in the middle of the room as a wave of something resembling guilt pulled at my chest. For all the asinine bullshit and careless disregard and downright violation of my rights as a person, Jasper expected me to be here. Wanted me here. I reached over and upturned a tag on a dark pair of slacks. Size six.

Fuck.

I collected myself from the floor and began pacing the narrow room. I had two options: one, I could sit up here, stay pissed like an insolent child, and ignore Jasper until he beckoned me to the playroom or kicked me out of the house. Or two, I could suck it up, apologize to Jasper for not following the House Rules, like I had promised, and tell him that I needed time to alter the way I usually conducted myself, and, further, that I was not another one of his subs and refused to be treated as any less than a guest in their home.

Option one got me out of here. Option two could fix me. And make me more of an adult.

With a defeated huff, I began walking down to the first floor. When I reached the third floor landing, I heard muffled noises coming from the long corridor that made up the entirety of the second floor. I walked quietly, using the few moments I had to collect myself into some good use, until I reached a partially opened door by the stairs.

The muffled noises were coming from inside, so I knocked once. The knock was so quiet I wasn't sure I had actually done it until the door opened slightly. I rolled my eyes and took a deep, dramatic breath, before trying again. Again, nothing, so, as discretely as I could, I peeked my head inside the door, hoping not to catch either Jasper or Tanya in a compromising position.

But in a compromising position they were.

Tanya was bent over the edge of the bed, her head pressed to the sheets and rolled to the side. Her arms were stretched out in front of her, the comforter wound tightly in her little fists, and her bare ass in the air. Jasper was standing on the ground before the bed, his hands gripping her hips and his head thrown back in pure exaltation. The muffled noise, I realized, were not from the two of them, who were both weirdly silent, but from the sound of the headboard as it bumped, repeatedly, against the wall. Both of them were facing me. Jasper's body was a masterpiece; a thin sheen of sweat had broken out across his neck and torso, turning his usually white skin a ruddy, peaked color. His arms, bulging and flexing as he gripped Tanya and moved, looked compact and defined.

I had seen Jasper shirtless before, when he had whipped Tanya after the first time I'd spent the night in the house, but it was a more practiced, demonstrative nakedness. Not like the careless, concentrated nakedness I saw here. He raised one leg and placed his foot on the bed, next to Tanya's thigh for, I was assuming, more leverage.

The gesture made him open his eyes to watch his footing, and his gaze caught me, standing there by the door, half of my body in the room and half out, with a look I'm sure involved glassy eyes and an open mouth.

I locked eyes with him, too afraid and too embarrassed to make a run for it. But he didn't stop moving, only continued to thrust, looking at me. There was no hint of embarrassment, no fumbling for clothing, no warning for Tanya, not even the expected "get the fuck out!" Only looking.

After a few thrusts he closed his eyes and stayed motionless. Then he opened his eyes and rocked slowly against Tanya, who was now breathing heavily. He ran his right hand across her ass, feeling the smoothness and sweat there, before kissing the fleshiest part of it.

With his lips still pressed against her, he looked at me again.

And smirked.

I ran.