‘You didn’t call me. I told you to call.’ he grumbles accusingly.
I sigh. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘So am I.’ he says quietly.
‘What are you sorry for?’
‘For not being here sooner,’
‘You weren’t to know.’
‘Well, if you had of called, then I would have of known you planned on doing something so stupid. I would have stopped you. Do what you’re told next time.’
I frown into his shoulder and he looks down at me, as if sensing my response to his scold. He grins, brushing his lips on my forehead. My eyes close. I can’t ignore it. There’s definitely something here. And it’s knocked the wind right out of my singleton sails.
When we reach the end of the street, I look up and see Jesse’s Aston Martin abandoned at an angle, from where he clearly couldn’t get through the traffic. A few passersby are floating around, admiring the deserted car. He drops me in the passenger seat and shuts the door before striding around to the front, sliding in behind the wheel and razzing off, leaving the chaos behind us. I sit happily admiring his profile as he dips and weaves through the traffic. He’s just dropped everything and come running to rescue me. I’d be lying if I said his actions were unwelcome.
He glances over and places his hand on my knee. ‘You okay, baby?’
I smile. I can feel myself slipping more with every minute I spend with him. I’m not sure if that’s a good or a bad thing. Damn you, Jesse Ward, of an age I don’t know.
He pulls up outside Kate’s. I’m not surprised that Margo’s not arrived home yet. The man drives like a loon. I let myself out of the car, but I’m soon scooped up and carried up the path to the front door.
‘I can walk.’ I complain, but he ignores me, taking my keys from my hand when we reach the door and opening it himself before kicking it shut behind us. I wriggle and he places me on my feet, his hand wrapping around my waist, pulling me into him.
I’m lifted so my feet leave the ground and my lips meet his. I sigh, linking my arms around his neck, letting his tongue roll around my mouth slowly and calmly. I’m screwed if I even think I can resist him. I’m totally f**king screwed.
‘Thank you for the book.’ I say against his lips.
He leans back, gazing at me, his green eyes twinkling with pleasure. ‘You’re more than welcome.’ He drops a chaste kiss on my lips.
‘Thank you for saving me.’
He smiles that cheeky, roguish smile. ‘Anytime, baby.’
The front door flies open and Kate bowls in, larger than life, clocking us in our embrace.
‘Sorry.’ she mouths, hastily retreating upstairs to the flat.
Jesse laughs lightly and rolls his hips into me, unearthing a delightful drum deep in my stomach. My breath hitches as his forehead meets mine. He sighs long and hard, his minty breath invading my nose.
‘If we were alone, you would be against that wall and I would be f**king you stupid.’ He rolls again, dragging a whimper from me as the drumming moves into my core. I mentally curse Kate to Hell.
‘I can be quiet,’ I whisper. ‘Gag me if you must.’
He smirks. ‘Trust me, you’ll be screaming. No gag will stifle it.’ My body convulses. ‘Now, tomorrow,’ he says assertively. ‘I’d like to make an appointment.’
Huh? An appointment to f**k me? Hey, no appointment necessary!
He must catch my confusion because he starts laughing. ‘I want you back at The Manor so you can take the details you really need to start working on some designs.’
My mouth forms an O and he leans down, plunging his tongue in, attacking me with passion. I let him take me with everything he has, my knees buckling when he rolls those damn, delectable hips again.
He breaks away panting, his eyes clenched shut. ‘I don’t make appointments to f**k you, Ava. I’ll be doing that when I please.’
He seems to summon some sort of strength from somewhere before releasing me, leaving me to stand on my own. I feel abandoned and weak. He removes his hooded eyes from mine and glances up the stairs, and I know he’s cursing Kate for being home too. I can’t believe he’s just teased me with a few delicious thrusts, and now he’s going. I’ve gone from playing it cool, to mentally begging for it.
‘The Manor at noon.’ he states, reaching up and running his finger down my cheek. I nod. ‘Good girl.’ He smiles, pushes his lips against my forehead, turns and strides out.
I sag against the wall, trying to catch my breath.
‘Hey, has the Lord gone?’
I look up to see Kate hanging over the banister waving a bottle of wine. Oh, yes. That I need.
The next morning, I land in the office with an almighty crash – quite literally. I’m sprawled across the wooden floor, surrounded by boxes, with Tom’s running towards me, horror plastered all over his baby face.
‘Oh God. Are you okay?’ He reaches down to help me up, brushing down my black, fitted skirt before beginning on my sleeveless blouse. ‘I’m so sorry. I was just moving them into storage.’ He flaps around me like a mother hen, babbling about health and safety and accident books.
‘Tom, I’m fine. Now, get your hands off my tits!’
He quickly withdraws his flapping hands from my br**sts, giggling. ‘Oh, and what lovely br**sts they are, Red Riding Hood!’
‘If you weren’t g*y, I would have slapped you by now.’ I warn him.
‘Ah, but I am g*y.’ he says proudly as he starts shifting boxes around.