Our journey back to Lusso is the longest I’ve ever endured. The sexual tension bouncing around in his car is excruciating, and Jesse is almost violent when he gets stuck behind a Sunday driver.
‘Some people shouldn’t be allowed on the fucking road. MOVE!’ He performs a highly illegal manoeuvre, overtaking the car on a single carriageway.
He frequently adjusts his groin area, and in the dim light of the DBS, I see a shimmer of sweat across his brow. Oh, he’s a man on a mission. He skids to a halt outside the electronic gates of Lusso and presses a remote to open them, his hand drumming on the steering wheel as he waits impatiently for them to shift.
I smile. ‘You’re going to have a seizure if you don’t calm down.’
He pauses with the drumming and looks at me, all smoky. ‘Ava, I’ve had a fucking seizure every day since I met you.’
‘You’re swearing a lot.’ I muse as the gates open and he pulls into the car park, fast and carelessly.
‘And you’re going to be screaming a lot,’ There is no humour in his tone. ‘Out.’ he orders.
I’ve no doubt I will be, but I do love it when he’s in these frenzies. I take my time getting out of the car, and when I’m finally vertical, I glance up and find he’s stood in front of me, with a very irked look on his face.
‘What are you doing?’ he asks incredulously at my leisurely pace.
I gaze around at the black night-time sky and down to the docks. ‘Do you fancy a walk?’
His mouth drops open. ‘Do I fancy a walk?’
‘Yes, it’s a lovely evening.’ I return my gaze to him, doing a rubbish job of hiding my smug smile.
‘No, Ava, I fancy fucking you until you beg me to stop.’ He bends, grabs me around the back of my thighs and hoists me over his shoulder, kicking shut the door of his ridiculously expensive car.
‘Jesse!’ My stomach catapults into my mouth at the swift movement. ‘I’ll walk!’
He starts striding into the foyer of Lusso. ‘Not fast enough. Good evening, Clive.’
I brace my hands on Jesse’s lower back, craning my head up to find Clive observing me draped over Jesse’s shoulder. What must he think of me? The last time I entered Lusso I was being carried too. ‘I’m not drunk!’ I yell, watching Clive disappear from sight as Jesse carries me into the elevator and punches the code in harshly. In my sassy state, I slide my hands beneath his jeans, onto his fantastic, tight arse, to feel the tense and swell of his muscles and smooth, warm skin as he strides out of the lift.
‘No fucking about. I want inside you now. You fuck about, I swear to God...’ He’s deadly serious.
‘You’re so romantic.’
‘We’ve got all the time in the world for romance, lady.’
Have we?
He barges into the penthouse, slamming the door behind him. I’m a touch disorientated when he lowers me to my feet in the kitchen. I stand before him, my hands resting on his shoulders, trying to get my bearings.
‘You know, you’re really not going to be in a fit state to work tomorrow.’ His hot breath is leaving condensation on my face. ‘Strip, now.’
I’m shaking – visibly shaking. I demand my hands to remove themselves from his shoulders, but they’re having none of it. I try to pull myself together, but it’s impossible when he’s looking at me like that. I feel his hands lay over mine and peel them away from his shoulders. He places them on my stomach.
‘Start with the shirt.’ His voice is throaty, tinged with a bit of desperation.
I can do this; I can be audacious. ‘So, am I in charge?’ I ask, inwardly bracing myself for his scoff.
It doesn’t come. He looks at me, the slight surprise at my question clear, but he doesn’t laugh. He can’t be in control all of the time.