Free Helpless by H. Ward Page B

while he puts my shoes on.  He caresses my ankle.  He gives me that deep look again as he sits back up, getting ready to leave the capsule.
                  Jason may be planning to connect with my naughty bits, but he is getting hot and satisfied just kissing me and looking at me.  I can’t say all this is feeling different here than being touched by those other guys, but this is different; and I like it a lot.
                  Jason folds up the blanket.  I hold my roses close.  We don’t say anything as we grab a cab and I finally give out my address.  The ride is totally silent.  I know it is because Jason is about to explode.  Looks of anger and desire and then confusion are flashing over his face.  If he hadn’t wound his leg around mine and rested his hand on my knee, I would be in total confusion by these strange emotions he is trying to hold in.  But I chalk it up to the fact he got heated up and wants to get to it now—and is having a hard time waiting for the bedroom.  I wish I had known what was really going on in his head.  I wish I had analyzed the strange emotions a little more.  I wish.
                  When I lean into him, his arm goes right around me.  So he can’t be angry with me, I must be right.  He is just holding back his desire.  Still, he is tense and looking out the window.
                  A look of surprise flashes across George’s face as he opens the cab door for me.  Does he ever have time off?  He is used to seeing me get out of cabs or come strolling up all by myself.  He is a professional and wipes the look off his face right away.  He holds the door for us and we walk to the gold elevators.  Now Jason’s hand is in the small of my back, ushering me along like a gentleman; but he is still not saying a word and his face is unreadable.
                  “A drink please.”  Jason’s voice is raspy.  He makes this request as soon as we shut the door behind us.  Because his hand is still warm and firm on my back, I still don’t feel any rejection from his odd behavior.
                  I’m back with some scotch on ice in a lovely Waterford cut glass.  I watch Jason knock half of it back.  He finally looks me in the eye.
                  “I’m sorry.  I…I just…well, I am leaving tomorrow and I don’t want you to feel I am using you.”  He hung his head down.
                  This I can handle.  Much better than the serial killer images that had started to run through my mind.  That would have been just my luck with the first guy I bring up to my apartment.
                  “I’m a big girl.  I can handle things.”  When I say that, his head snaps up and his eye look wild.  Guess that may have been the wrong thing to say.  I can see him actually force himself to calm down before he speaks.
                  “You’ve got a lot to handle already.  You shouldn’t have to handle me.”   He finally grins a little at the possible sexual innuendo.
                  He gulps more scotch.  I see his lust has cooled with just those few words.  Well, I’ll have none of that!  I plan to see what sex with someone I like and want to go to bed with is like. 
                  I take the glass from his hand and ask if he wants more while I walk away.  He says no.  I pour more and bring it back to him.  I snuggle up and into him as I hand him the glass.
                  He takes it and sips this time.  He is trying really hard to keep his emotions flat and make his escape.  Ha, ha, ha—go ahead and try it, big boy.  I know you are covering up passion under there, so now you have no chance to escape me.
                  I settle on the sofa.  “Well, at least sit down and finish your drink.  And tell me if and when you are heading back to London.”  I smack him with a professional