Текст книги "This Man"

Автор книги: Jodi Ellen Malpas

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 21 (всего у книги 32 страниц)

Chapter 26

 

I regain consciousness with Jesse lying between my thighs, rubbing his nose against mine. I force my eyes open.

‘Morning, lady.’

I groan, extending my arms above my head in a long, satisfying stretch. Oh, I slept very well. As I settle back down, I feel Jesse’s morning hard on nuzzling between my thighs, a flicker of a smile playing at the sides of his mouth.

I wiggle under him. ‘Morning, yourself,’

In one swift movement, he drives deep into me, and it’s already a great day. I hold onto his tight biceps as he rests on his forearms and works up into a firm, steady rhythm.

He opens his eyes. ‘I love sleepy sex with you.’

I stare into his calm, peaceful face and let him take me to paradise, but I’m abruptly snapped out of my dreamy state when Jesse rolls us both over, keeping us connected, so I’m straddling him. The sudden gravity sensitises me to his invasion.

‘Ride me, Ava.’ His voice is raspy, his hunger filled eyes glistening in the morning light. He grasps my thighs, and I plant my palms on his pecs.

I look down at him. ‘I’m in charge?’

He grins. ‘Do your worst, baby.’ He flicks his hips up, prompting me to instigate some movement.

Right! Staring him squarely in his sludgy, sleepy eyes, I slowly and carefully rise from his hips, bracing myself up for a few seconds, teasing and watching his face blaze for friction.  Then slowly, I lower myself back down with equal precision, forcing myself down, grinding as far as possible until I feel his arousal hit my womb. It sends him into a tailspin.

He throws his head back, moaning so loud it echoes around the bedroom. I smile to myself. This is my opportunity to regain the power and I’m going to make the most of it.

‘Again?’ I ask confidently. I’m going to love this.

‘Fuck, yes!’ he pants.

‘Mind your language, please.’ I taunt him as I slowly rise again, falling with complete precision, grinding myself against him. I repeat the tortuous move again and again, watching as he crumbles beneath me.

His hands shoot up to cup my breasts, his thumbs working small circles around my tight nipples. I rise again, pausing at my peak. His eyes are skipping, his mouth parted. I’m struggling to keep control above him.

‘Down?’ I tease.

‘Oh God, yes.’

I descend again, seeing his face distort, clear evidence of his suffering. He won’t endure this for much longer. I can see the strain carved in his tense jaw and creased forehead. He groans, holding my breasts tighter, sending a sharp, shooting pain directly to my core. I’m not going to be able to endure this for long. I’m on the crest of release, and I need him to be there when I fall.

I lift myself up, watching as he expects me to slowly lower myself. I don’t. Instead, I knock the wind right out of him and crash down, completely impaling myself on him. I grind down hard.

‘Jesus fucking Christ!’ he roars, sweat instantly breaking out across his brow. I roll my hips, ensuring optimum penetration, forcing myself down onto him. Yes, you’ll beg. ‘Fuck, fuck, fuck. Ava, I’m going to come!’

‘Wait.’ I demand.

His eyes snap open in shock, desperation filling them. I roll again, watching as he squeezes his eyes shut, his frown line the deepest I’ve ever seen it. This is taking everything out of him. I just need one more…

‘Ava, I can’t.’ he pleads.

‘Shit! Wait.’

‘Watch your mouth!’ he yells, his eyes still closed in concentration. It’s killing him.

‘Fuck off, Jesse!’

His eyes fly back open in warning at my crass words, but I couldn’t give a damn. I clamp my hands over his and use my leg muscles to lift myself again, hovering above him and crashing down so he completely spears me.

I lift again. ‘Now!’ I cry, smashing back down. My body explodes, sending me soaring right into orbit. I’m vaguely aware of Jesse’s strangled moans as I feel hot moisture invade me, warming my entire being. I collapse onto his chest in an exhausted heap – job done.

I lay sprawled across him, melting into the rhythm of his fingers circling my back, his semi-erection drumming steadily inside me. Our heartbeats are clashing together between our chests as we try to regulate our breathing. We’re both totally replete.

‘I love sleepy sex with you.’ I murmur.

He kisses the top of my head. ‘Except for your filthy mouth.’ His voice is full of scorn.

I laugh and look up at him, reaching to run my fingers down his stubbly cheek. I love his stubble. He turns his face into my touch, kissing my fingers and returning my smile.

‘I don’t think we can call that sleepy sex, baby.’

‘No?’

‘No. We’ll think of a new name for that one.’

‘Okay.’ I agree, completely contented. I rest my cheek back onto his chest and trace small circles around his golden nipple. ‘How old are you, Jesse?’

‘Twenty nine,’

I scoff, but it occurs to me, very suddenly, that I won’t have a clue when we finally reach his real age. I’m plumping for thirty four. That’s eight years past me – I can live with that.

I sigh. ‘What’s the time?’ I could do with another hour.

He shifts me from his chest. ‘I left my watch downstairs. I’ll go take a look.’

‘You need a clock in here.’ I grumble as he gets out of bed, leaving me cold and bare without him.

‘I’ll put in a complaint to the designer.’ he replies dryly.

I ignore him, turning over to snuggle down, making do with the pillow. This bed is the most comfortable I’ve ever slept in. I did well here.

‘Seven thirty.’ I hear him shout from downstairs.

I bolt upright in bed. ‘Shit!’ I jump out and race downstairs to the kitchen. ‘You’ll have to drop me at home.’

He sits, dead cool and casual on the bar stool, completely bare arsed naked, scooping peanut butter from a jar with his finger. ‘I’m a bit busy this morning.’ he says without looking at me.

Oh, the irritating pig! This is, without a doubt, a ploy to keep me here. After all, he did say I wouldn’t be walking, and I am. I’ll get the tube, it’s no bother. I scan the floor where I dropped my clothes – no clothes.

‘Where are my clothes, Jesse?’

He sticks his peanut butter covered finger into his mouth, sucking it off and pulling it slowly from his mouth on a little pop. ‘I’ve no idea.’ he says, completely straight faced and unaffected.

Where has he hid them, the little shit? They can’t be far. I stalk around his apartment, huffing and puffing, pulling open cupboard doors and looking behind furniture. I march back into the kitchen, finding him still sitting there, looking infuriatingly naked and handsome, and completely unaffected by my frenzy.

Oh, I’ve not got time for this. I can’t be late for work. ‘Where are my fucking clothes?’ I shout.

‘Watch your fucking mouth!’

I shake my head at him. He’ll have a bar of soap in my mouth next. ‘Jesse, I never swore out loud before I met you…funny, huh? I need to get home so I can get ready for work.’

‘I know you do.’ And in goes another peanut butter covered finger.

‘So, where are my clothes?’ I try calm, but if he doesn’t give me my clothes now, I’ll soon revert back to mad woman. I can’t be late.

‘They are…somewhere.’ He grins around his finger.

‘Where is somewhere?’ I ask, while thinking about how much I dislike roguish Jesse today.

‘If I tell you, you have to give me something in return.’

I feel mad woman coming on! ‘What?’ I yell.

‘Don’t drink tomorrow night.’ His face is deadpan.

I scowl at him as I watch him fighting to control a smirk from breaking out. The conniving pig! He’s got me cornered, naked, late for work and in need of a lift.

I stand, pondering his trade. If I’m honest, I wasn’t planning on getting particularly drunk, especially after my performance on Saturday. I’ve not even asked Kate if she’s free yet, but I don’t want Mr Control Freak thinking he can dictate my every move. Give him an inch and all that.

‘Fine!’ How will he know if I have a drink, anyway?

He looks shocked. ‘That was easier than I thought. What about lunch later?’

‘Okay, get my clothes!’

‘Who holds the power, Ava?’ he asks.

I don’t have time to challenge him on that. ‘You do, get my clothes!’

‘Correct.’ He struts over to the fridge – with a little extra swagger for my benefit – and opens the door. ‘Here you are, lady.’

They were in the fridge? Well, I would never have looked in there. I snatch them from his hand, and he raises a warning brow at me. I don’t care. I’m going to be so late. He watches me frantically yank my capri pants on and laughs as I hop around gasping when the freezing cold material rests on my skin.

‘Have I got time for a shower?’ he asks seriously.

‘NO!’

He laughs, slaps my bum and saunters out of the kitchen.

Jesse drives me home in his usual driving style – frighteningly fast and ever impatient, but today I’m grateful.

He waits for me in the car, making a few calls, while I shower and get ready in record time. I shove on some black, fitted ankle grazers, a white shirt and my red Dune ballet pumps. I’m dressed for speed today. My hair is having a strop for not being blow dried last night, so I pin it into a messy up do. I’ll put my make-up on in the car.

As I rush across the landing, I collide with a half-naked Sam. Has he moved in? Put some clothes on!

‘You’re always in a rush, chick.’ He laughs. I side step him, darting into the kitchen to get a glass of water and swallow my pill. ‘Good night?’

I nod over my glass as he stands, bold as brass in the kitchen doorway, looking all roughed up. I won’t ask if he’s had a good night. That much is obvious.

‘Where’s Kate?’ I ask.

He grins. ‘I’ve tied her to the bed.’

My eyes widen. I have no idea if he’s serious or not. He’s such a joker. ‘Tell her I’ll call her later.’ I wait for Sam to budge and let me out. ‘See ya.’ I call, running down the stairs.

‘Hey, tell Jesse I’m not running today.’ he shouts after me.

I run down the path and onto the street, where Jesse is illegally parked and flipping off a traffic warden from his driver’s seat. I wait for the warden to finish lecturing Jesse, but he seems to be on a roll.

‘Move so the lady can get in the car.’ Jesse growls. The warden ignores him, launching into a speech on verbal abuse and lack of consideration for other road users.

‘Excuse me.’ I prompt, trying for polite as appose to Jesse’s aggressiveness. I get ignored. Damn, I’m going to be super late.

‘For fucks sake!’ Jesse swings his door open and strides around the car to meet the warden on the pavement. The poor man visibly shrinks at Jesse’s presence, moving away hastily. He opens the door, deposits me in the car before slamming it, cussing some more and sliding back behind the wheel. We roar off down my street, way too fast.

‘They’re just doing a job, you know.’ I flip the mirror down to sort my make-up out.

‘Power hungry failures that didn’t make cops,’ he grumbles. He looks at me and smiles. ‘You look lovely.’

I snort. ‘Watch the road. Oh, Sam said he can’t make your run.’

‘Lazy bastard. He’s still there then?’ he asks, overtaking a taxi. I grab the side of my seat. My make-up is going to be everywhere.

‘He’s got Kate tied to the bed.’ I mumble, flicking my lashes with my mascara wand.

‘Probably,’

I swing my head around with my wand half way to my eyes. ‘You don’t sound shocked.’

‘That’s because I’m not.’ He looks at me out the corner of his eye.

He’s not? So, Sam’s into kinky shit? ‘I don’t want to know.’ I mutter, returning to the mirror.

‘No, you don’t.’ he says quietly.

We pull up near my offices, but far enough away so I’m not spotted getting out of Jesse’s Aston Martin. I’m still trying to figure out how Patrick might react to all of this. Jesse hasn’t mentioned the extension since Sunday, and I can’t imagine a pleasant reaction from my boss if I tell him that I’m not designing for Mr Ward, I’m fucking him instead.

‘What time’s your lunch?’ he asks. He strokes my thigh, generating the familiar stabs of pleasure. Now is not the time to get horny, and that touch does it for me.

‘One,’ I squeak.

He rubs circles on my thigh. I stiffen slightly. ‘I’ll be here at one then.’

‘Right here?’ I breathe.

‘Yes, right here.’ His hand drifts between my thighs.

‘Jesse, stop.’ I close my eyes, trying to fight off the sparks of pleasure.

He runs his hand up my centre, over my trousers.

I whimper.

‘I can’t keep my hands off you,’ he says in that low hypnotising voice – the one that knocks all sense and reason out of me. ‘And you’re not going to stop me, are you?’

No, damn me, I’m not!

Leaning over, he wraps his hand around the back of my neck and pulls me towards him, increasing the strokes of my core. When his lips find my mouth, I moan. I’m being worked up into a blissful rhythm as he caresses my tongue with his, slowly and surely, guaranteeing optimum pleasure. I can’t believe I’m letting him do this in his car in broad daylight, but he’s triggered something now, and I can’t walk into that office with the ache of an abandoned orgasm lurking inside me. I need relief, or I won’t concentrate all day.

Coils of craving spread out and build up, my concern at the possibility of being captured indecently disappear, just like that. I’m all over him. He just does it for me in so many earth shattering ways.

‘Let it go, Ava.’ he says into my mouth. ‘I want you in that office thinking of what I can do to you.’

I hit my climax, crying out as he presses his lips harder on mine, stifling my moans and alleviating the pressure of his hand to slowly work me down again. I sigh against his lips.

‘Better?’ he asks as he pecks light kisses over my mouth.

Oh yes, much better. The irritating, roguish and pouting Jesse of an hour ago has faded away completely. ‘I can work in peace.’ I sigh.

He laughs and releases me. ‘Well, I’m going home to think of you and sort this out.’ He cups himself where his running shorts are tenting.

I smile, leaning into him, kissing him chastely on the lips. ‘I could do that for you.’ I offer, reaching down and grazing my palm over his arousal. His eyes widen, sparkling with pleasure as I reach into his shorts and release his throbbing length, squeezing the base and drawing a couple of lazy strokes.

His head falls back against the head rest. ‘Oh, fuck, Ava. That feels so good.’

It does feel good, but in my mouth it would feel better. What has got into me? I continue with a few more controlled strokes, the tip glistening as he shifts and moans in his seat. He must be close. I lower my head into his lap and flick my tongue across the pulsing head of his glorious cock, tracing slow circles on his wet tip. His hips buck and he grabs the steering wheel. How long will he last?

 He moans deep, long and low. He’s definitely close.

Lazily, I slide my wet tongue down his shaft, causing him to buck some more before I wrap my lips around his head and slowly take it all the way to the back of my throat.

He gasps. ‘That’s it, baby. Take it all the way.’

I pause, feeling the throb beating against my tongue, and on a slow exhale, I work slowly back to the top. He sighs in pure gratification.

‘Keep going, just like that.’ He encourages me, running his hand over the back of my neck.

I grin around him, releasing his erection from my mouth, letting it spring against his tight stomach. His eyes widen as I straighten up in my seat and wipe my mouth.

‘I’d love to, but you already made me late for work.’ I jump out of the car, yelping when he makes a grab for me.

‘What the fuck? Ava!’

I cross the road quickly, suddenly considering the possibility of him chasing me and tossing me over his shoulder. Would he?

I turn around when I reach the pavement, seeing him stood by his car rubbing his groin, a dark smile on his face. I feel untold relief.

‘How old are you, Jesse?’ I shout across the road.

‘Thirty. That wasn’t very nice, you little temptress.’

I blow him a kiss and courtesy sweetly, watching as he puts his hand out to catch it, that dark smile ever present. I can see those cogs flying around from here.  I turn on my heels and sashay off down the road, feeling rather pleased with myself – for now, anyway. After all, he holds the power.

Chapter 27

 

‘Meeting at twelve,’ Victoria calls as she totters out of Patrick’s office.

I start sifting through my current clients, making notes on current statuses. Our fortnightly progress meetings are a relaxed affair to keep Patrick abreast on current projects and to advise Sally of any paperwork that needs to be completed. It’s also an hour of scoffing cream cakes and drinking tea continuously. I must go for a run tonight.

‘Sally?’ I call down the office. She looks up from her computer screen, acknowledging me by removing her glasses. ‘Can I have a list of payment statuses on clients, please?’

‘Of course, Ava.’

‘Oh, and me,’ Victoria shouts.

Sally looks at Tom, who nods too. It’s rare to have to chase payment, but highly embarrassing when you do. Patrick’s a stickler for payment deadlines.

I get lost in my work for a few hours, chasing orders and replying to emails.

At twelve, Sally places a box on my desk. ‘This came for you.’

Oh? I didn’t hear the door. ‘Thanks, Sal.’ I look down at the white box. Of course, I know who it’s from. I open the box, secretly excited, while glancing around the office to make sure no attention is aimed in my direction. Inside is a chocolate éclair. I laugh out loud, and Tom’s head whips up from his desk. I wave my hand in a dismissive gesture. He rolls his eyes, returning to his sketching.

I grab the note and open it.

Revenge is sweet.

Jx

I smile, pick up the éclair and sink my teeth in as I grab my folder and head for Patrick’s office. Sally follows behind with a tray full of tea and cakes.

‘Wait for us!’ Tom whines, watching me pop the last piece of éclair into my mouth. He gives me a disgusted look as I wipe a lump of cream from the corner of my mouth. ‘I want one of them, Sal.’ He diverts his attention to the tray that Sally has placed on Patrick’s desk.

Sally flicks a glance in my direction, frowning. ‘I got vanilla slices.’

‘Don’t offer me any!’ Victoria barks, settling in one of the four tub chairs arranged around Patrick’s huge, mahogany desk.

‘Don’t tell me you’re dieting again?’ Patrick grumbles.

‘Yes, but this one’s working.’ she declares happily. Honestly, the girl is waif to the point of disappearing and on a different diet every week.

I take a seat next to her, and Tom joins us as Sally hands out a spread sheet of clients invoice statuses before pouring the tea and settling down. I scan the list of invoices – all marked “Paid” or “Not due” and run my finger across the page when I come across the highlighted “Overdue” section. There’s one client in the column – just one.

What?

I inwardly cringe. Any hope I had of evading any reference to The Manor and Mr Ward has just been spectacularly dashed. The idiot hasn’t paid his initial consultation fee. What’s he thinking? I glance up, seeing Patrick running through the same list as me, along with Victoria and Tom, who both look up at me in unison with the same expression. It’s an, oh dear look. I sag in my chair, waiting for it.

‘Ava, you need to contact Mr Ward and give him a nudge. What’s the current position?’ Patrick asks.

Oh....dear. I’ve completed no client forms – apart from the initial briefing sheet – I’ve sent no quotations, I’ve not established my role in the project, whether it be to design or design and manage. I’ve done nothing. Well, I have, but nothing you can class as work related. I’ve not even submitted an invoice request for the second so called meeting that had me running away without my bra. That’s a point…where is that bra?

Oh, I’ve spent a few hours sketching a design, sat on my arse in the extension on a Sunday, but I can hardly put a bill in for that. I don’t work on Sundays, and Patrick only has to look at my diary to see no appointment with Mr Ward. The only things I’ve established, concerning Mr Ward, are not of a professional capacity.

Oh, fucking hell. I clear my throat. ‘I’m compiling the consultation breakdown and quotation as we speak.’

He looks up at me, frowning in disapproval. ‘Your first meeting was nearly two weeks ago and you’ve had a second since. What’s taking so long, Ava?’

I break into a cold sweat. A list of my fee structure is a simple task to complete, according to individual contracts, and usually done before the second meeting. I have absolutely no excuse. I can feel Tom and Victoria staring at me.

‘He’s been away.’ I blurt. ‘He asked me to hold off with any correspondence.’

‘When I spoke to him last Monday, he was very keen to get cracking.’ Patrick counters as he checks his diary. Damn him for making notes on everything!

I shrug. ‘I think it was a last minute business thing. I’ll give him a call.’

‘You do that. And I don’t want you spending any more time on it until he’s coughed up. Now, what’s the current status with Mr Van Der Haus?’

I exhale in relief, launching into an enthusiastic update on The Life Building, glad to be off the subject of The Lord of the Manor. I’m going to kill him!

I walk out of Patrick’s office and Tom nudges my shoulder, giggling as he passes.

‘Don’t!’ I warn.

‘That could have been worse, Ava.’ Victoria comments. She’s right. It could have been a disaster.

I leave the office and walk down the street to where Jesse dropped me off this morning. As I approach Berkeley Square, I’m scared half out of my skin by some prat on a motorbike screeching past me. I compose my racing heart and carry on, coming to a stop and leaning against a wall. I pull my phone out of my bag to check my messages. There are two from Kate.

I need some help. Can u pop home & untie me plz?

I gape at my phone, quickly looking at the message details and noting it was sent at eleven. Is she still there? I open the next.

Don’t panic! Sam’s being a knob. I would love 2 c your face. Xxx

Oh yes, Sam the comedian. But a small part of me wonders if there’s an element of truth in his joke. Jesse wasn’t at all surprised when I mentioned it to him. Fun, Kate said. Hmmm. I bet.

I look at the time. It’s five past one. Okay, he’s late and I’m offended. How long should I wait?  I ponder how desperate I am by standing here and glance up to be confronted with the handsome face I love so much. He’s straddling the screeching motorbike that I want to smash into a million pieces. I feel my lips curve into a semi grin as I push myself away from the wall and walk over to him. He’s just beyond sexy on that death trap.

‘Good afternoon, lady.’ He sits on the bike with his helmet resting between his thighs, wearing no leather, just jeans and a white t-shirt. I can’t help but think how irresponsible it is. He looks delicious, though.

‘You’re a menace.’ I scorn, coming to a stop in front of him.

‘Did I scare you?’ He secures his helmet on the handle bars of his bike.

‘Yes. That thing needs a noise risk assessment.’ I complain.

‘This thing is a Ducati 1098. Watch your mouth.’ He slips his arms around my waist and yanks me onto his lap. ‘Kiss me.’ he breathes. He claims my lips, making a dramatic display of possessing my mouth for all to see. I hear jeers and taunts from passersby, but I don’t care. I wrap my arms around his neck and let him have me. It’s only been a few hours, but I’ve missed him.

Suddenly, it occurs to me that we’re a hundred yards from my office and Patrick could breeze out at any moment. If he sees me cavorting with Mr Ward, he’ll jump to the obvious conclusion: I’m giving special treatment at the expense of his profitability. After that meeting, I’m already skating on wafer thin ice.

I wriggle to free myself, but he just increases his hold on me, pressing his lips harder to mine. My attempted escape becomes fraught and desperate the tighter he holds me. Placing my hands into his chest, I push against him, and he eventually frees my lips, but not my body.

He narrows fierce eyes. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’

‘Let me go.’ I strain against him.

‘Hey. Let’s get one thing straight, lady. You don’t dictate when and where I kiss you, or for how long.’ He’s deadly serious.

Self-assured control freak!

I use all my strength to free myself, failing miserably. I’m out of breath. ‘Jesse, if Patrick sees me with you, I’m in all kinds of shit. Let me go!’ To my utter shock, he releases me, and I scramble onto the pavement to straighten myself out. When I look up, I’m met with the filthiest scowl I’ve ever encountered. He’s proper glaring at me. It makes me mad. And what’s all that about kisses where ever, however and for as long as he pleases? That’s taking his controlling tendencies to a whole new level.

‘What the fuck are you talking about?’ he shouts. ‘And watch your mouth!’

‘You,’ I start accusingly, ‘have not paid your bill, and now I’m supposed to be giving you a polite reminder. I was forced to give some spiel about you being away.’ Could a full on kiss be considered a polite reminder? Jesse would probably think so.

‘Consider me reminded. Now, get your arse here.’

Oh, if looks could kill. ‘No!’ I say incredulously. He really doesn’t like being defied. I’m not risking my job security, just so I don’t upset Mr Control Freak here.

He looks at me in complete disbelief, dismounting his bike in the most spectacular fashion, his jeans stretching tightly over his magnificent thighs. I shift on my feet. I’m way too affected by this man.

He glares at me. ‘Three,’

I gape. He wouldn’t? Not in the middle of Berkeley Square. It would look like I’m being abducted, raped and murdered all at once! Obviously, I know different, but it won’t look good to an outsider, and I hate to think what Jesse is capable of if someone tries to pull him off me.

His lips spread into a straight line of displeasure, while he drills holes into me with his hard stare. ‘Two,’ he grates through gritted teeth.

Think, think, think. I huff. ‘Oh, I’m not getting into a row with you in the middle of Berkeley Square. You’re a child sometimes!’ I pivot and start walking away. I don’t know why I’m doing this, he’s like an unexploded bomb, but I’ve got to hold my own here. He’s being stupidly unreasonable, and I’m putting my foot down. I feel him close behind me as I stalk towards Bond Street, but I charge on. There’s a cute boutique up here. I’ll escape in there.

‘One!’ he yells.

I carry on walking. ‘Fuck off! You’re being unreasonable and unfair.’ I know I’m pushing my luck now, swearing and disobeying, but I’m that mad!

‘MOUTH! What’s so unreasonable about wanting to kiss you?’

Good grief. Is he that self-absorbed? ‘You know damn well what’s unreasonable about it. And it’s unfair because you’re trying to make me feel shitty about it.’ I enter the store, leaving him pacing up and down on the pavement, looking through the window every now and then. I knew he wouldn’t come in. I’m not oblivious to the fact that he looks raging mad and I have to leave the shop at some point, but I need a few moments alone to collect myself. I start mooching about.

An overdressed, over made up girl approaches me. ‘Can I help you?’

‘I’m just browsing, thanks.’

‘This section is all new season stock,’ She runs her arm along a suspended rail of dresses. ‘We have some beautiful dresses.  Please, just ask if you need another size.’ She smiles.

‘Thank you.’

I start cruising through the rails, spotting some truly gorgeous dresses – albeit stupid prices, but gorgeous nevertheless. I pick up a fitted, cream silk, sleeveless affair. It’s shorter than I usually wear, but lovely.

‘You’re not wearing that!’

I snap my head up and see Jesse stood in the doorway, looking at the dress like it could spit poison. Oh, how embarrassing! The sales assistant looks wide eyed at Jesse and back to me. I half smile at her. I’m horrified. Who the bloody hell does he think he is? I throw him my dirtiest look, mouth fuck off and watch as the proverbial steam fires out of his ears.

I turn to the assistant. ‘Have you anything shorter.’ I ask sweetly.

‘Ava!’ he barks. ‘Don’t push me.’

I ignore him, keeping my eyes on the assistant expectantly. The poor girl looks like she could have a panic attack, her gaze flicking, very nervously, from me to Jesse and back again.

‘No, I don’t think so.’ she says quietly.

Okay, now I’m feeling sorry for her. I shouldn’t be dragging her into this pathetic disagreement over a dress. ‘Okay, I’ll take this one.’ I smile, handing her the dress.

She looks at me, then at Jesse. ‘Urh…is this the correct size for you?’

‘It’s a ten?’ I ask. I can literally feel the shop shaking under his wrath.

‘It is, but I would recommend that you try it on, we don’t offer refunds.’ she advises me.

Well, I was going to risk it not fitting, but at that price, maybe not. She shows me to a changing room, hanging the dress on a fancy hook for me.

‘Just call if you require any help.’ She smiles, pulling the velvet curtain across, leaving me and the dress alone.

I’m being as pathetic as Jesse by doing this; I’m purposely pushing him. We’re talking about the man who made me sleep in a winter jumper in the middle of spring because another male was in the flat. Is this necessary? I decide it is – he can’t behave like this.

I fight my way into the dress, struggling with the zipper where it meets the seam on the bust line. I’m not giving up. I know if I can just get it over that line of stitching, it’ll be just fine.  I smooth down the front of the dress. It feels lovely.

Pulling the curtain across, I stand back from the floor length mirror to take a good look. Wow! This dress really does it for me. It compliments my olive skin and dark hair perfectly.

‘Oh, Jesus, Mary and Joseph!’

I swivel, finding Jesse gripping his hair, pacing up and down. He looks like he’s been Taser gunned. He stops, looks at me, opens his mouth, snaps it shut and starts with the pacing again. I’m quite amused.

He stops stalking and looks at me, all wide eyed and traumatised. ‘You’re not...you…you can’t...Ava…baby…oh, I can’t look at you!’ He walks out adjusting his groin, muttering some crap about an intolerable female and heart attacks. Then I’m alone with the dress again.

The assistant approaches with caution. ‘The dress looks incredible.’ she says quietly, looking over her shoulder for Jesse’s whereabouts.

‘Thank you, I’ll take it.’ The dress is easier to remove than it is to get on. I hand it over to the assistant and get myself dressed.