'Yes, we. Don't ask me who we is, Ava. You already know.'
That means it's Kate and Sam, and I'm not to make a big deal of it. I am, however, slightly envious. 'Where are you going?'
'Sam's taking me to The Manor.'
What?
Okay, the envy has disintegrated. 'The Manor?' I blurt incredulously. Is she winding me up?
'Yes, don't get the wrong idea. I asked him to. I'm curious.'
Holy f*cking shit! Kate's coolness knows no bounds. While I disintegrated on the spot when I discovered exactly what The Manor represents, she wants to go and socialise there? Bloody hell, I can't believe Sam has agreed to this. Sam is a member which should, but obviously doesn't, alarm her. The man I'm involved with owns the place, and I've still not established all of the nitty gritty with regards to the business and/or recreational side of things. Well, I know it has been recreational, but to what level? Judging by the evil looks I was subjected to by the female members on the few occasions I was there, my suspicions tell me there has been a lot of recreational. The thought depresses me, and I'm hankering after some wine even more now.
'And Sam's happy to take you?' I ask as casually as I can, but there's no hiding the shock in my voice.
'Yeah, he's told me what goes down and I want to see.' She sounds so matter-of-fact, laidback Kate prevailing again. I'm in meltdown just thinking about the place. I hate her for being so open-minded. And what does go down, anyway?
'It's a nice place,' I shrug to myself, spinning my coffee mug on the counter. What else can I say?
'How's Jesse?' she asks.
I detect the edginess of her tone. Does she still like him as much now? It's clear the fact that he owns The Manor will not be an issue, but she wasn't best pleased when I eventually stopped crying for long enough to tell her about the drunken arsehole I encountered when I came back to make amends with him. He seems fine, but I'm definitely not. What to say?
I settle for, 'He's fine. His hand is just muscle damage and he insists he's not an alcoholic.'
'I'm glad.' Her sincerity is sweet, and I'm relieved she isn't hurling explicit language down the phone and demanding I walk away. 'Well, he doesn't fall out of bed and wrap his lips around a bottle of vodka, does he?' She laughs.
'No! He just doesn't know when to stop when he does start, apparently. It's still a problem, though, Kate.'
'You'll be fine, Ava.' she assures me.
Will I? I'm not so sure. I thought being here with him would start to mend the mess, but it hasn't. I've told him what I want, but he doesn't seem to be all that keen on giving it to me, attempting, instead, to distract me as he knows best. I decide to give him until the morning. If he hasn't talked to me by then, I'll leave. I'll cave into his touch soon if I'm not careful.
'Yeah, listen,' I snap my attention back to Kate. 'I would say have fun tonight, but I'm more inclined to say... keep an open mind.'
'Ava, you don't get more open minded than me. I can't wait! Speak to you tomorrow.'
'Bye,' I hang up and run through my times at The Manor, when I thought it was an innocent hotel. I shake my head at myself. How could I have missed it all when everything seems so obvious now? I should cut myself some slack because I was completely diverted by a tall, lean framed man with dirty blonde hair and hypnotising green eyes. He was perfect. He still is, if a few pounds lighter and a few issues heavier.
I make my way upstairs to change out of my dress, throwing on a pair of cotton shorts and a vest before removing all of the grips from my hair.
When I get downstairs, Jesse is still asleep on the sofa. I mess around with the T.V cabinet for a while, but I can't get the damn thing to open and reveal a television, so I slump into the chair and watch Jesse sleeping, his mangled hand draped over his solid chest and rising and falling with his steady breaths. As my thoughts wander naturally to chocolate eclairs, calla lilies and Angels, I drift off to sleep.
'I love you.'
I come awake in a daze of darkness and rub my eyes as I sit up in the chair. It takes me a few moments to figure out where I am, but when I begin to focus, I find a handsome, dark blonde man crouched in front of me.
'Hey,' he says softly as he brushes my hair from my face. I gaze around the vast open space to try and grab a hold of my bearings.
'What time is it?' I ask sleepily.
He leans in and kisses my forehead. 'Just gone midnight.'
Midnight? I'm sleeping for England, and I could drift straight back off again, but I'm properly woken up when the shrill sound of a phone ringtone stabs at the silent air.
'For f*ck sake,' Jesse complains.
I watch as he yanks his phone from the coffee table and looks at the screen. Who would be ringing at this time?
'John,' he greets calmly down the phone, 'Why?' He glances at me. 'No, it's fine...yeah...give me half hour.' He hangs up.
'What's the matter?' I ask, fully awake now.
He shoves his Converse on and stalks for the door, clearly unhappy. 'Problem at The Manor. I won't be long.'
And just like that, he's gone.
So, I'm wide awake, it's past midnight and Jesse has just disappeared in the middle of the night. How is he going to drive with one hand? I sit in the chair like a loose part and contemplate what is going on at The Manor of such urgency.
Oh no, Kate is there.
I run into the kitchen and find my phone to call her, but she doesn't answer. I try repeatedly and with each unanswered call, I get more worried. I should just call Jesse, but he seemed pretty pissed off. I pace up and down, make myself a coffee and sit at the island repeatedly dialing Kate. If my car was here, I would be on my way to The Manor. Or would I? It's easy for me to say I would, especially when there is no way I can.
After pacing the penthouse for an hour and calling Kate endlessly, I give in and go to bed, crawling into the plush, soft sheets of the spare room bed and curling up.
'I love you.'
I open my eyes and find Jesse looming over the bed. I'm somewhere between sleep and consciousness and my mouth won't work. What time is it and how long has he been gone? I don't get a chance to ask, though. I'm gathered up into his arms and transported to his room.
'You sleep here.' he whispers, lowering me into his bed. I feel him crawl in behind me, and I'm tugged back against his chest.
If I wasn't so contented, I would be asking questions, but I am, so I won't. My head hits the pillow and with Jesse's warmness surrounding me, I'm gone again.
'Morning,'
My eyes open and I'm pinned to the mattress under a heady scent of fresh water and mint. My morning brain is desperately trying to convince me to struggle free, but my body is blocking all of the sensible instructions trying to filter through.
He sits back on his heels. 'I need to do this.' he whispers, clasping my hand and pulling me into a sitting position.
He takes the hem of my vest and slowly pulls it up over my head before leaning into me and kissing the middle of my chest, running his tongue in a light, flicking circle up to my throat.
I'm tense.
He pulls back. 'Lace,' he says softly as he removes my bra.
I battle between my body's desperate need for him and my mind's strong need to talk. I want to clear the air before I'm dragged back onto Central Jesse Cloud Nine where I lose all cognitive reasoning. 'Jesse, we need to talk.' I say quietly as he kisses my throat and works his way to my ear. Every nerve is buzzing, pleading with me to shut up and accept him.
'I need you.' he whispers, finding my mouth and plunging his tongue in.
'Jesse, please.' My voice is a breathy whisper.
'Baby, I do my talking this way.' He grips the nape of my neck and pulls me further into him. 'Let me show you.'
My body wins.
I blank out my screaming conscience and surrender to him like the slave that I am. He wraps his arm around my lower back and eases me back down to the bed, sealing our mouths on the way, my entire being jumping to life as his hot, wet tongue slips gently between my lips and glides slowly around my mouth. We're in gentle Jesse mode, and as if he knows it, this is the best place to take me right now.
His slow, steady breaths tell me he is in complete control as he rests on his forearm and uses his good hand to run his fingertip from my hipbone, all the way up to my breast, a steady wave of tingles traveling up my body in time with his touch, leaving my breath shallow and erratic. He finishes by tracing the edges of my nipple wistfully to match the gentle motions of our tongues.
I hold on to his shoulders, feeling all of the misplaced emotions flooding back into me under his gentle touch, his attentive mouth and his hard body flanking me. My fear was completely justified; I'm lost in him again.
I whimper as he pulls his lips away from mine and sits back on his heels before he uses his good hand to drag my shorts down my legs, taking my underwear with them. 'You need reminding.' he says, looking down at me.
'This is not the conventional way.'
'It's how I do things, Ava.' He throws my shorts and knickers to the side and pulls me up, sealing our mouths. 'We need to make friends.'
I can't fight him anymore. I hook my fingers in the waistband of his boxers and press my lips further to his as I push them down his thighs. He lets out a long moan, easing me back down onto the bed, causing me to lose my grip of his shorts, so I place my foot into the band and extend my leg to take them the rest of the way. He's leaning half on me, half off, his hard, lean body spreading the length of me as he claims my mouth, pushing his body further into mine.
Weaving my fingers through his hair, I relish the friction of his long stubble against my face. It's too long to be sharp or coarse, so it feels more like a soft brush is being glided across my face.
He separates our mouths and buries his face in my hair as he cups me between my thighs and draws his palm up the centre of my body, slowly over my stomach and then gradually up between my breasts, finishing against my throat.
'I've missed you, baby,' he murmurs against my neck. 'I've missed you so much.'
'I've missed you, too.' I hold his head to me. I feel completely cocooned in strength, but he's not strong at the moment. I feel protected and safe, but I'm aware that it's me who's playing the carer at the moment. I'm feeling overwhelmed too - completely overwhelmed with intense feelings for this troubled man.
He moves himself so he's cradled between my thighs, and I soon feel the wet, slippery head of his morning erection pushing against me. My mind is a jumble of mixed thoughts, but then he rests on his elbows and gazes down at me, like I'm the only thing that exists in his world. Our eyes are fused and saying more than words ever could. I move my hands from the back of his head so my palms are on either side of his handsome face.
'Thank you for coming back to me,' he says softly as I stare up into his eyes, drowning in them, emotion flooding my entire being.
I smooth my thumb across his moist lips and slide it into his mouth, withdrawing slowly and resting the tip on his bottom lip. He plants a light kiss on the end and smiles down at me as he lifts his hips while maintaining our eye contact, my pelvis shifting to meet him.
I sigh in pure, unapologetic pleasure as he slowly, unhurriedly and reverently slides deep inside of me. I close my eyes and slip my hands to the back of his head as he fills me completely. He holds still, beating and kicking inside me. His change in breathing to quick, fast bursts of breath is a familiar trait. He's struggling to maintain control.
'Look at me,' he demands between pants, and I force my eyes open and gasp a little when I feel him jerk inside me. 'I love you.' he whispers, his voice cracking.
I inhale sharply at the words I've desperately needed to hear for so long, but does he think that's what I want to hear? Does he think that's all it takes? 'Don't, Jesse.' I close my eyes, my hands falling away from his head.
'Ava, look at me, now.' he demands harshly. I drag my swimming eyes open and meet a straight, expressionless face. 'I've been telling you how I feel the whole time.'
'No, you haven't. You were hijacking my phone and trying to control me.' I retort.
He circles his hips into me, drawing a collective moan from both of us. 'Ava, I've never felt like this before.' He withdraws and pushes deep and high. I try to rein in my scattered thoughts, but a moan escapes. 'I've been surrounded by naked women with no respect for themselves all of my life.' He places his hands over mine, pinning my wrists on either side of my head.
Thrust.
'Jesse!'
'You're not like them, Ava.'
Thrust.
'Oh God!'
He pulls back and rams back in. 'Jesus!' He stills on a few deep breaths. 'You're mine, and mine alone, baby. Just for my eyes, just for my touch and just for my pleasure. Just mine. Do you understand me?' He withdraws and slowly plunges back in.
'What about you? Are you just mine?' I ask, shifting my hips up to capture the delightful penetration.
'Just yours, Ava. Tell me you love me.'
'What?' I cry, when he hits me with a hard drive.
'You heard me.' he says softly. 'Don't make me f*ck it out of you, baby.'
I'm stunned. I'm melting beneath him, crippled by pleasure and now he's demanding I tell him that I love him? I do, but should I confess under duress? It's completely as I expected, though. He's been trying to make me the opposite of everything he knows, keeping me covered, preventing me from drinking, insisting on me wearing delicate lace instead of harsh leather. But what about the sex?
'Ava, answer me.' He pushes high and grinds firmly, a sweat breaking out across his brow. 'Don't hold out on me.'
His words hit me like a lightning bolt. Hold out? He's tried to f*ck a love confession out of me before - in the en-suite last Saturday when he rammed into me repeatedly, demanding I say it. I thought he was looking for reassurance that I wasn't leaving. I was wrong. How did he know?
There's another perfect grind and my internal muscles start to spasm, tremors inching their way into the epicentre of my nerve endings. My legs stiffen. 'How did you know?' I cry, throwing my head back in despair, both mentally and physically.
'Damn it, Ava, look at me.' He hits me with a full, hard strike, and I drag my eyes open on an angry yell. 'I love you.' he shouts, reinforcing his words with yet another slow withdraw and hard fast attack of his hips.
'I love you too!' I scream the words that are literally punched out of me.
He stops his movements completely, our breaths rushed and frantic as he holds my hands in place and looks down at me. 'I love you so f*cking much. I didn't think it was possible.' His words penetrate me deeply, the intensity of our joining having my heart kicking into a higher gear as he looks down at me, tears pricking the backs of his eyes. He smiles faintly and slowly withdraws himself. 'Now, we make love.' he says quietly, rocking gently back into me and capturing my lips in a slow, sensual kiss, full of meaning. He releases his hold of me and my hands fly to his back, slipping across his damp skin.
His tactic has changed completely. Slowly and leisurely, he drives in and out of me, pushing me up towards complete rapture as I clasp at his damp back, holding as tight as I can. Sex with Jesse has always been beyond compare, but this moment holds a significant power that I never thought possible. He loves me.
I struggle to keep my emotions in check when he pulls back and holds his face to mine, nose to nose, eyes full of sentiment. I'm coming apart. The consistency of his controlled, deep thrusts has me shuddering and tensing around him as my core convulses and grips his shaft on each and every plunge. The sheen of sweat across his brow and his frown line deep with concentration tells me he's tipping the edge too. Tilting my hips up on a thrust, I moan as he fills me to my absolute limit, the feel of his rhythmic, meticulous tempo having me wanting to squeeze my eyes shut, but I can't drag them away from his.
'Together.' he says, his hot breath spreading across my face.
'Yes,' I gasp, feeling him expand and throb in preparation for his release.
'Christ, Ava.' A rush of air escapes his lips and his body goes rigid, but he doesn't remove his eyes from mine. My back arches on reflex when the spiraling rush of pleasure reaches its climax and sends me tumbling into a hurricane of uncontrollable feelings. I cry out in complete despairing pleasure, my body trembling in his hold. I close my eyes to blink back the tears that have developed as my orgasm begins to recede slowly and lazily with his continued even strokes.
'Eyes,' he commands softy, and I obey, opening my eyes again.
He moans deeply and I tighten all of my muscles at my core to grip him and extract his release from him. How is he keeping his head up and his eyes open? I can see the battle he's having with his instincts to hammer into me and throw his head back, but he's keeping a rein on his control. And then, you can almost hear the snap of his release as his cheeks puff out and he pushes himself into me, long and hard, holding himself there, my muscles obliging his throbbing erection and continuing with their slow, easy constrictions as he pours into me.
'I love you.' I say quietly as he looks down at me, his chest heaving. There. I've put it out there. My cards are well and truly on the table, and he didn't technically f*ck that one out of me.
He rests his lips on mine. 'I know you do, baby.'
'How did you know?' I ask. I know I've never told him. I've screamed it in my head a thousand times, but I have never actually voiced it.
'You told me when you were drunk,' He smiles, 'After I showed you how to dance.'
I do a quick run through of the night when I got ridiculously drunk and relented to his persistent pursuing again. I remember admitting it to myself, but I certainly don't remember blurting it out to him. Mind you, I don't remember much after Jesse escorted me from the bar. I was in a state. That's his fault too.
'I don't remember.' I admit. I feel bloody stupid.
'I know you don't,' He grinds his hips.
I sigh.
'It was so f*cking frustrating.'
It all comes flooding back. He really was trying to f*ck a love confession out of me. He watches me as I figure it out, and his mouth forms an O on a small smile.
'You knew all along.' I say quietly.
Drunken confessions.
I had beaten myself up about it for days and days, and he knew all along? Why didn't he say something? Why didn't he just talk to me instead of trying to f*ck it out of me? So much could have been so very different.
His smile disappears and is replaced with a stoic expression. 'You were drunk. I wanted to hear the words when you were of sound mind. Women get drunk all the time and confess their undying love to me.'
'Do they?' I blurt.
He almost laughs. 'Yes, they do.' He drops his eyes, 'I wasn't sure if you still did after...' His teeth start a vicious workout on his bottom lip, 'Well, after I had my little meltdown.'
I inwardly laugh. Little meltdown? Bloody hell, what would be a big meltdown? Women tell him they love him? What women and how many are there? I screw my face up in my own private disgust. I'm extremely uncomfortable with how resentful I'm feeling about any other woman having him or loving him. I need to put these thoughts right out of my mind and fast. No good could come of me knowing.
'I love you.' I reinforce my words, almost grinding them out, like I'm telling all of those women who claim to love him too. I feel his whole body relax over me before he continues slowly circling deep inside me.
Pulling him down onto me, I wrap my entire body around him. I feel like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders, but then it occurs to me; I'm in love with a man and I have no clue how old he is.
'How old are you, Jesse?'
He pulls his face up and I can see the cogs of his mind start revolving. I know he's thinking whether or not he should just tell me his real age and stop with his silly diversion. 'I can't remember.' He frowns.
Oh, I might be able to play this to my advantage. I think we may have got to thirty-ish. 'We were at thirty three.' I prompt.
He smirks at me. 'We should start again.'
'No!' I pull his face down and rub my nose across his rough cheek. 'We got to thirty three.'
'You're a rubbish liar, baby.' he laughs, nuzzling into my face. 'I like this game. I think we should start again. I'm eighteen.'
'Eighteen!' I exclaim.
'Don't play games with me, Ava.'
'Why won't you just tell me how old you are?' I ask exasperated. It really doesn't matter to me. He's forty, maximum.
'I'm thirty one.'
I sag beneath him dramatically. He does remember. 'How old are you?'
'I just told you, I'm thirty one.'
I narrow displeased eyes on him and one side of his mouth lifts into a semblance of a smirk. 'It's just a number.' I moan. 'If you ask me anything in the future, I won't answer - not truthfully, anyway.' I threaten.
His semblance of a smirk falls away immediately. 'I already know everything I need to know about you. I know how I feel and nothing you could tell me will make me feel any different. I wish you felt the same.'
Oh, that's below the belt! It wouldn't make a jot of difference to the way I feel about him. I'm just curious, that's all. I wish he would just give up the ghost. I'm already distracted by him and his challenging ways and we still haven't really talked, but I do feel so much better, not empty and hollow anymore.
'You said before that I might run a mile if I know.' I remind him. 'I'm not going anywhere.'