‘You don’t know where you keep your own glasses?’
He rummages through a drawer, pulling out a white sachet. ‘I’m learning. My housekeeper tried to tell me, but I was a little distracted.’ He rips the sachet open and tips it into a glass. The muscles of his back roll as he gets a bottle of water from the fridge, filling the glass quickly, before walking back over to me. ‘Alka-Seltzer. It’ll sort you out within half an hour. Drink,’
I reach to take it from him, but my arms won’t liaise with my brain. Without a word, he moves between my thighs and lifts the glass to my lips for me. I guzzle the lot.
‘More?’
I shake my head. ‘I’m never drinking again.’ I mumble, falling forward onto his chest.
‘That would please me so much. You’re very argumentative when you’re drunk.’ He strokes my back.
‘I am?’ I don’t remember.
‘Yes, promise me you won’t get in that state when I’m not around to look after you.’
‘Did we argue?’ I ask. I remember the toilet dispute, but we were friends after that.
He sighs. ‘No, I submitted power temporarily.’
‘That must have been a challenge.’ I reply dryly.
He reaches up, snapping my bra strap. ‘It was, but you’re worth the effort.’ He turns his face into me, kissing my hair before pulling back and focusing his stare on my semi-naked state. ‘I love you in lace.’ he says softly, tracing the top of my knickers. ‘Shower?’ I nod against his shoulder, wrapping my arms and legs around him as he slides me from the counter.
I’m carried back through the penthouse, upstairs into the bathroom and put on my feet outside the shower. I’m left briefly as he turns the shower on. I feel wobbly. As soon as he’s in front of me again, I flop forward onto his chest.
‘You are feeling sorry for yourself, aren’t you?’ He picks me up and places me on the vanity unit. ‘I have fond memories of you sat exactly here.’
I frown to myself, but then realise…our first sexual encounter happened in here on the launch night of Lusso. I look up into hazy, green eyes staring down at me. ‘You finally got me where you wanted me, didn’t you?’
He cups his hand on my cheek. ‘It was always going to happen, Ava.’ He grabs his toothbrush, squirts some toothpaste on and runs it under the tap. ‘Open.’ he orders.
He sets about brushing my teeth gently, holding my jaw in his free hand. I watch him concentrate on his small, circling movements around my mouth as my dance floor revelation comes back to me – the moment that I finally admitted to myself that I have, most definitely, fallen in love with this man. I wasn’t so drunk when that little realisation crashed into my wine drenched brain. My aim to avoid exactly this has been well and truly trampled. I’ve fallen in love with this arrogant, forceful, God like creature.
Bollocks! I reach up to cup his stubbled cheek in my hand, and his eyes jump to mine, his lips parted ever so slightly. He stops brushing and turns his face into my palm, kissing it tenderly. Yep, I love him. Oh God, what am I going to do?
‘Spit.’ he says quietly against my hand.
I drop my hand from his face and lean over the sink to rid my mouth of toothpaste before returning to face him. Running his thumb across my lip, he collects some stray paste and slides his thumb in his mouth to clean off what he’s swept up.
‘Thank you.’ I utter through my cracked voice.
The corner of his mouth cocks into a half smile. ‘It’s just as much for my benefit as it is for yours.’ He smiles, leaning in and kissing me soft and slow on the lips, his tongue sweeping through my mouth tenderly. I sag on a sigh. ‘You’re rubbish at hangovers. Is there anything I can do to make it better?’ He pulls me off of the unit, so I’m stood before him, and reaches around to clinch my bum, effectively holding me up.
‘Have you got a gun?’ I ask him seriously. That would cure my pounding head.
He laughs a proper belly laugh. ‘That bad, huh?’