I find my bags by the front door and rummage through to get my phone.
Holy shit! It’s seven thirty. Kate’s leaving in half hour – or supposed to be. I sent her a text to tell her that I was on my way home and I haven’t turned up. She hasn’t bloody called to find out where I am, though. Charming!
‘Fucking hell!’ I curse under my breath, spinning round and finding Jesse – still naked, looking really rather angry. What the hell has he got to be angry about? It riles me instantly.
‘Mouth!’ he growls at me on a scowl.
He’s really mad. Well, so am I. With myself! I scoop my bag up and head for his bathroom, collecting my discarded clothes on my way. ‘Can I use your shower?’
‘No!’ he snaps.
I laugh. ‘Don’t be a child, Jesse.’ My tone is condescending, and I give him an extra wide berth, passing him swiftly on my way back to the bedroom. I need not to be touching him.
I go to shut the door, but he slams his shoulder into it, all but barging in behind me. I make a point of glaring at him before I move away to turn the shower on. Is he mad about my crazy pillow talk? I can’t blame him. I’m pretty mad with myself. He’s absolutely right; I should keep quiet during sex. Come to think of it, so should he. He said some pretty crazy shit too.
I dig through my bag to get yesterday’s t-shirt, drop my flip flops to the tiled floor, throw my make-up bag by the sink and brush my teeth, and the whole time, Jesse stands there festering.
When the room is full of steam, I drop the towel, totally brazen – I’m pissed, I couldn’t give a flying fuck – open the shower door and get in to wash off four rounds of Jesse Ward. If I wasn’t so sticky, with sweat and cum all over me, I wouldn’t bother. I would be gone already.
The water is divine and relaxing, despite my scowling spectator, as I wash my hair, letting the water fall over me for the briefest of moments. But I’ve not got time to take full advantage of the soothing water. I open my eyes and the shower door is flung open, the cool air attacking my wet, naked body. Jesse is snarling at me.
‘You’re not going anywhere!’ he barks.
I look at him, completely exasperated, my jaw hitting the shower tray. He’s made the most of me while I’ve been here. Is he still not happy? ‘Yes, I bloody am!’
‘No, you’re not!’
‘Jesse, what’s your problem?’ I’m stood in the shower, hot water pounding me, cold air blasting me, and facing a brooding hunk of a male.
‘YOU!’ he yells.
‘Me?’
Oh, the man has a nerve. I turn the water off and push my way past his big body, ignoring the sparks that fly off of me from the contact. Does he think I’m an object he can fuck at will and order about? I wrap a towel around me, flinging one on my head, roughing it all over to expel the water. I’ve not got time to dry it, and I doubt Mr Unreasonable here has a hairdryer.
I feel his hand wrap around the top of my arm. I brusquely yank it out of his grasp, carrying on with getting my underwear, jeans and top on.
‘I don’t want you to leave.’ His voice has softened.
‘Don’t be stupid, Jesse. You can’t keep me here as a sex slave. You’ve got many willing women falling at your feet, go and busy yourself with one of them.’ I can’t believe how harsh I sound. The thought of him with another woman makes me want to attack.
I catch his eyes in the mirror. They are narrowed right on me, burning my skin. ‘I don’t want other women. I want you.’
I pause, mid cream application. ‘Haven’t you had me enough?’ I ask, a massive part of me wanting him to say no, but knowing it’s only going to end badly if he does.
He reaches up, brushing his knuckles down my cheek. I unconsciously nuzzle into it, closing my eyes.