This Man Part 25

I sigh and peel myself from his chest, lifting my heavy eyes to his. 'Fine. I need to wash my hair.'

He pushes my wet locks away from my face and drops a gentle kiss on my lips. 'Are you hungry yet?'

I am actually. Hangover s.e.x has built me up an incredible appet.i.te. 'Very.' I climb off of him, reaching for the shampoo. 'Is this it?' I look at the shampoo, then to Jesse. 'No conditioner?'

'No, sorry.' He pushes himself up from the shower floor, taking the bottle from my hand and squeezing some into my hair. 'I want to do it.'

I relinquish hair washing duties, letting him laver up my hair, his big palms gently sweeping over my head. I'm going to have to wash it again when I get home. No conditioner spells trouble, but it smells of him, so I really don't care. I close my eyes, let my head fall back and absorb the rhythmic movements of his hands.

All too soon, he's positioning me under the shower to rinse away the suds. 'What the f.u.c.k are they?' he splutters.

'What?' I turn to find out what he's talking about. I catch a glimpse of a shocked expression as he grabs me, turning me so my back is to him again.

'Them!'

I look over my shoulder, finding him gawking at my b.u.m and the faded bruises from my little jaunt in the back of Margo. With the look of horror on his face, you would think I had a skin eating disease. I roll my eyes. 'I fell over in the back of Margo.'

'What?' he snaps impatiently.

'I was holding up the cake in the back of Margo,' I remind him. 'I got chucked about a bit.'

'A bit?' he gasps, running his palm across my b.u.m. 'Ava, you look like you've been used as a rugby ball.'

I laugh. 'It doesn't hurt.'

'No more cake propping,' he demands. 'I mean it.'

'You're overreacting.'

He grumbles some inaudible words and kneels, planting his soft lips on each on my cheeks. I close my eyes and sigh.

'I'll be having a word with Kate too.' he adds, and I highly suspect he will.

Standing again, he turns me back around to face him, sweeping the water from my face. I open my eyes, finding him staring down at me, his face expressionless, but his eyes tell a different story. He's mad because of a few bruises? The last time he got mad over a few bruises, I didn't see him for four days.

He leans down and rests his lips on my collar bone before running his tongue up my neck and clamping his teeth on my earlobe, tugging gently. His hot breath in my ear has me shuddering. b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l, I could go again!

'Later,' he whispers, and I moan in disappointment. I can't get enough of him. 'Out.' he demands, turning me and clenching my waist from behind to guide me from the shower.

I stand quietly, letting him run the towel all over my body and through my hair to soak up the excess water. He's being so attentive and caring. I like it. In fact, I like it way too much.

'All done,' He wraps the towel around his waist without drying himself.

I really want to lean up and lick off the beads of water that are dripping over his shoulders, but my hand is grasped and I'm pulled back into the bedroom before I can follow through on my intent.

I look around the room. Where's my dress? I can't believe I've got to do the walk of shame in my short, black number. My eyes return to Jesse after I've scanned the room. I drawl, watching him pull on some jeans.

'No boxers?' I ask.

He tucks himself in and gingerly zips himself up on a dark grin. 'No, I don't want any unnecessary obstructions.' His tone is suggestive and very confident.

I frown. 'Obstructions?'

He pulls a crisp white t-shirt over his wet hair and down his rippling abdominals. I know I'm gawping. 'Yes, obstructions,' he confirms in a low husk. He strides over to my naked form and wraps his palm around the nape of my neck to pull my face close to his. 'Get ready.' he whispers, pressing his lips hard on mine. He's got to stop this if he's not going to see me through.

'Where's my dress?' I ask against his lips.

He releases me. 'I don't know.' he says dismissively, casually striding out of the room.

What? He must have taken it off because I was in no fit state to coordinate a strip. I go into the bathroom to get my underwear, at least I know where that is...no, I don't. My bra and knickers are gone.

Okay, he's playing games. I go to his walk-in-wardrobe and find a what I expect to be a the most expensive shirt on the rail. I slip it on and make my way downstairs, finding him in the kitchen. He's sat at the island, dipping his finger in a jar of peanut b.u.t.ter.

His smile dazzles me as he looks up, his lips wrapped around a peanut b.u.t.ter covered finger. 'Come here.' he orders.

I stand in the archway, naked except for a white dress shirt, and frown at him. 'No.' I decline, watching as his smile dulls into a straight line.

'Come...here.' He punctuates the words slowly.

'Tell me where my dress is.' I challenge.

He narrows his eyes at me and places his jar of peanut b.u.t.ter, calmly and precisely, on the work surface. Those cogs are working hard again and his finger is tapping ferociously on the worktop as he stares me down.

'You have three seconds.' he declares, his voice dark, his face straight.

I raise my eyebrows. 'Three seconds for what?'

'To get your a.r.s.e over here.' It's that fierce tone. 'Three,'

My eyes widen. Is he serious? 'What happens if you make it to zero?'

'Do you want to find out?' He remains completely impa.s.sive. 'Two,'

What? Do I want to find out? f.u.c.king h.e.l.l, he's not given me much time to run this over.

'One,'

s.h.i.t! I bolt towards his outstretched arms, colliding against his hard body. There was no mistaking the dark look of satisfaction I got a glimpse of before my head was buried in his neck. I don't even know what happens on zero, but I do know how much I love his arms around me, so it's a no brainer really. Oh, that feels good. As my face nuzzles between his pecs and I trace my fingers over his back, I can hear his heartbeats slow under my ear. He exhales and stands, placing me on the island, working his way between my thighs. He rests his palms on the tops of my legs.

'I like your shirt.' He skates his palms over my thighs.

'Is it expensive?' I ask on a pout.

'Very,' He smirks. He knows my game. 'What do you remember about last night?'

Oh? Yes, I was ridiculously drunk, shockingly brazen on the dance floor, and I think I might have admitted to myself that I'm in love with him. He doesn't need to know the last revelation. 'You're a good dancer.' I say instead.

'What can I say? I'm a sucker for JT,' He shrugs it off swiftly. 'What else do you remember?'

'Why?' I ask on a frown.

He sighs. 'At what point do you draw a blank?'

Where is he going with this? 'I don't remember getting home, if that's what you're getting at. I do realise I was stupidly drunk and highly irresponsible.'

'You don't remember anything after the bar?'

'No.' I admit. That's never happened to me before.

'That's a shame.' His sludgy eyes search mine for something, I've no clue what.

'What's a shame?'

'Nothing,' He leans down, kissing me tenderly on the lips, smoothing his palms over my face.

'How old are you?' I ask as I look him straight in the eye.

He dips his lips to mine again, coaxing them open and slowly swirling his tongue around my mouth before biting my bottom lip and tugging gently. 'Twenty six.' he whispers, planting soft, skimming kisses all over my mouth.

'You missed twenty five.' I mumble, closing my eyes in complete contentment.

'No, I didn't. You just can't remember asking me.'

'Oh. After the bar?'

He rubs his nose against mine. 'Yes, after the bar.' He pulls back and runs his thumb across my bottom lip. 'You feeling better?'

'Yes, you need to feed me.'

He laughs, planting a chaste kiss on my lips. 'Are you making demands?'

'Yes,' I say haughtily. 'Get me my clothes.'

He narrows his eyes on me, making a play for my hip bone, squeezing it hard and sending me jolting across the worktop on a squeal. 'Who has the power, Ava?'

'What are you talking about?' I laugh around his torturous squeezes.

'I'm talking about how much easier we'll get along if you accept who holds the power.'

Oh, I can't bear it anymore. 'You do!'

He releases me immediately. 'Good girl.' He grabs my hair and yanks me forward, landing me with a hard, forceful kiss. 'Don't forget it.'

I melt into him, absorbing his so called power on a long drawn out sigh. All too soon, he leaves me on the worktop and returns a few minutes later with my underwear, dress, shoes and bag. I scowl at him as I take them.

'Don't look at me like that, lady. You won't be wearing that dress again, I can a.s.sure you. Put the shirt over it.' He gives the dress a disapproving look before leaving the kitchen to take a call.

I laugh to myself. Who holds the power? Me, that's who! Control freak! I throw my clothes on and rummage through my bag to try and find my contraceptive pills, but they're nowhere to be seen. I tip out the entire contents of my clutch onto the worktop and rifle through the c.r.a.p that I harbour in my bag, only to find I didn't put them in.

'You ready?'

I turn to see Jesse in the archway to the kitchen with his hand held out. 'Two seconds.' I stuff my things back in my bag and walk over, taking his outstretched hand.

'Lost something?' he asks, leading me out of the penthouse.

'No, I must have left them at home.' He looks down at me with a questioning look. 'My pills,'

His eyebrows rise. 'It's a good job Cathy isn't here. You would give her a heart attack in that dress.'

'Cathy?'

'My housekeeper,' He looks down at my dress disapprovingly and sets about fastening the b.u.t.tons of his shirt. 'Better.' he concludes on a small satisfied smile.

We exit the elevator and I'm pulled through the foyer of Lusso, Clive doing a double take as we pa.s.s.

'Morning, Mr Ward.' he greets cheerfully. 'You look better this morning, Ava.'

Jesse nods at Clive but doesn't slow his long strides. I blush profusely, smiling sweetly as I scuttle along, keeping up with Jesse. How embarra.s.sing. I seriously doubt I look better than last night. My hair is damp, I've not a sc.r.a.p of make-up on and I'm wearing last night's clothes with Jesse's shirt over the top.

I'm bundled into the Aston Martin and drove home at the usual hair raising speed, while Ian Brown soothes my ears.

Outside Kate's, I let myself out of his car and meet him on the pavement. His eyes follow me until I'm stood before him and he's looking down at me with those glorious, green eyes. I don't want him to go. I want him to take me back to his tower in the sky and hide me there forever, in his bed a with him in it too. I'm a slave to this man. I've been completely and utterly taken.

I step forward, pushing my front into his chest, tilting my head up to him. He stands casually, with his hands resting lightly in his jean pockets, his twinkling eyes watching me as I reach up on my tiptoes and brush my lips over his. That's all it takes for him to remove his hands from his pockets and heave me to his chest, plunging his tongue into my mouth, fiercely taking whatever he wants. It's totally fine. He can have it. My arms find their way around his neck, and I absorb it all as he rolls and laps at my mouth, completely consuming me.

Trouble...so much b.l.o.o.d.y trouble.

Once he's taken what he wants, he pulls away on a long exhale, leaving me breathless and wanting so much more. I turn on my unsteady legs, taking myself up the path to Kate's front door. I should smile, I'm quite happy with myself and all the s.e.x I've had, but the ache in my gut is a screaming indictor that I can't ignore.

I turn to watch him drive off but find him close behind, looking down at me. My brow furrows. What's he doing? If he's come for another goodbye kiss, then I'm game.

'What are you doing?' I ask.

'I'm coming in to wait for you.'

'Where am I going?'

'You're coming to work with me,' he replies, like I should know this.

He's going to work? Of course, hotels don't close on weekends, but what am I going to do while he's working? Do I care as long as I'm with him?

'You just kissed me goodbye.'

A smile plays at the corners of his mouth. 'No, Ava. I just kissed you.' He brushes a damp lock of hair from my face. 'Get ready.'

Oh, okay. He orders me about all over the place and I comply, mostly without a second thought. I really am a slave to him.

I walk into the lounge, with Jesse in tow, to find Kate and Sam sprawled across the sofa, a tangle of semi-naked arms and legs, eating cornflakes. Neither of them makes any urgent attempt to cover up.