Текст книги "This Man"

Автор книги: Jodi Ellen Malpas

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Текущая страница: 25 (всего у книги 32 страниц)

‘Okay?’ he asks on a half-smile as he looks down at me.

I’m not talking. That’s a sure way to puff me out, and I’m doing really well at the moment. I nod and return my focus on the path ahead of us, willing my muscles not to give up. I have a point to prove.

We maintain our steady pace, making our way around St James’s Park, eventually reaching The Green Park. I glance up again and still see a completely unaffected, virtually refreshed face and body running next to me. Okay, I’m feeling it now, and I don’t know whether it’s my fatigue, or the fact that crazy man here is increasing his pace, but I’m struggling to keep up. We’ve got to be knocking on nine miles now. I’ve never ran nine miles in my life. If I had my iPod with me, I would be hitting the button for my power track, right about now.

We hit Piccadilly and I start to feel my lungs burning, my breath getting harder to keep steady and constant. I think I may have hit the proverbial runner’s wall. I’ve never ran far enough to hit it before, but I can now completely appreciate the meaning of the statement. I feel like I’m pushing against a ton of bricks wedged in sand.

I must not give up.

Oh, it’s no good. I’m bloody shattered. I detour off of the road and into The Green Park, collapsing, unceremoniously, onto the grass in a sweaty, overheated heap. I lay spread eagled, dragging valuable air into my overworked lungs. I don’t care that I’ve given up. That’s my personal best achievement. Man, he can run.

I close my eyes and concentrate on taking in deep breaths. I feel sick. The cool morning air invading my sprawled body is most welcome, until it’s swallowed up by a hunk of leanness closing in on me from above. I open my eyes, finding a gaze so green, it could rival the trees surrounding us.

‘Baby, did I wear you out?’ He grins around his words.

Jesus, he’s not even broke a sweat. I, on the other hand, can’t even talk. I heave underneath him, like the running loser that I am, letting him smother my face with kisses. I must taste God awful.

‘Hmmm, sweat and sex.’ He licks my cheek and rolls us over so I’m sprawled across his stomach. I proceed to pant and wheeze all over him as he runs his firm palms all over my sweaty back. My chest feels tight. Can you have a heart attack at twenty six?

When I’ve finally got my breathing under control, I push my hands into his chest and straddle his hips, sitting up on his body. ‘Please don’t make me run home.’ I plead. I think I could possibly die. He places his hands under his head, all casual and amused by my laboured breathing and sweaty face. His toned arms look edible as they flex. I could just about muster up the energy to lean down and take a bite.

‘You did better than I expected.’ he says on a raised brow.

‘I prefer sleepy sex.’ I grumble, falling forward onto his chest.

His hands come around to secure me against him. ‘I prefer sleepy sex too.’ He traces circles across my back.

Okay, today, I really, really love him. And it’s only six thirty in the morning. But I should bear in mind that a lot can change and very quickly with Mr Jesse Ward. Give it an hour and I might have disobeyed or not conformed, and then, very suddenly, I’m dealing with crazy mad, Mr Unreasonable Control Freak and being given the countdown or a sense fuck – I’ll take the sense fuck, I’ll leave the countdown.

‘Come on, lady. We can’t frolic in the grass all day, you have work to do.’

Yes, I do. And we’re miles from Lusso. I’m actually closer to Kate’s than I am to Jesse’s, but my things are at Jesse’s so it looks like I’m taking the long option. I heave myself up from his chest and stand. I’m slightly wobbly on my feet. Jesse, of course, rises to his feet like a dolphin gliding across the calm ocean. He makes me sick.

He wraps an arm around my shoulder and walks us onto Piccadilly, flagging a taxi down and bundling me in.

‘You brought money for a taxi?’ I ask. He knew I wouldn’t make it?

He doesn’t answer. He just shrugs and yanks me across the taxi into his arms.

I feel a little guilty for cutting his run short, but not too much. I’m too beat to dwell on it for long.

I’m dragged, quite literally, through the foyer of Lusso and into the elevator. I feel like I’ve been awake for a month, when, in reality, it’s not even been two hours. I’ve no idea how I’m going to make it through the day.

When we reach the penthouse, I collapse on a bar stool in the kitchen, resting my head on my arms. My breathing is only just returning to normal.

‘Here,’

I look up and find a bottle of water being waved under my nose. I take it gratefully, swinging the lovely ice liquid and wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.

‘I’ll run a bath.’ He looks at me in sympathy, but I detect a little enjoyment mixed in there too. The smug bastard! I’m lifted from the stool and carried upstairs in my usual chimp like manner.

‘I don’t have time for a bath, I’ll have a shower.’ I say as he places me on the bed. What I would do to crawl under the covers and emerge sometime next week.

‘You have plenty of time. We’ll grab some breakfast and go to The Manor mid-morning. Now, stretch.’ He drops a kiss on my sweaty forehead and turns towards the bathroom.

We’ll go to The Manor? What for? Realisation kicks in before my brain has a chance to instruct my mouth to blurt the question. He was completely serious when he permanently marked out my diary for the rest of the academic year?

Oh, shit!

The one hundred grand is to keep Patrick quiet while he gets his fix of me, morning, noon and night. Oh, bloody hell. What about my other clients – Van Der Haus being the most important other client? He alone will boost Patrick’s turnover tenfold. Oh God, I feel a trample coming on.

‘Jesse, I need to go to the office.’ I try for a calm and reasonable tone. I don’t know why I picked this one in particular. As appose to what? Demanding? Ha!

‘No, you don’t. Stretch.’ Is the straight flat answer, followed by a terse demand that I get thrown back at me from the bathroom.

I’m going to lose my job. I know it. He’ll get his fix, trample all over my social life and career, and then drop me like a hot potato. I’ll be job-less, friend-less, heart-less and, most frighteningly, Jesse-less. I feel light headed. What am I going to do? I’m too exhausted to run away at the start of a countdown – not that I would get very far, even firing on all cylinders. And a sense fuck will probably finish off my already strained heart.

‘All of my equipment is at the office. My computer programmes, reference books, everything.’ My voice is small.

He presents himself at the doorway of the bathroom, chewing his lip. ‘And you need all that stuff?’

‘Yes, to do my job.’

‘Okay, we’ll stop by your office.’ He shrugs and returns to the bathroom.

I throw myself back on the bed in exasperation. What in God’s name am I going to say to Patrick? I exhale a weary sigh. He’s lead me into a false sense of security by bringing me home in a taxi and carrying my tired body up the stairs when my legs felt like they could give out. I’m just as deluded as he is. I’m never going to be in control.

‘Bath’s ready.’ he whispers in my ear, snapping me from my unrest.

‘You were serious, weren’t you?’ I ask as he lifts me up from the bed and carries me into the bathroom. The enormous bath dominating the room is only half full.

‘I was serious about what?’ He places me on my feet and starts peeling off my wet running gear.

Thick skin! ‘About holing me up with you,’

‘Yes.’

‘What about my other clients?’

‘I don’t want to share you.’ He pulls my shorts down my legs and taps my ankle. I do as I’m bid, lifting my feet in turn.

How am I going to play this? For one thing, I’m less than delighted at the thought of spending more time than I have to at The Manor under the icy glare of old pouty face, and for another, I need to keep on top of my current clients. That’s what they are paying me for. He doesn’t want to share me?

What?

With anyone?

And for how long?

‘I don’t need to be at The Manor to collate designs, Jesse.’

He lifts me into the bath and starts undressing himself. ‘Yes, you do.’

I sink down into the hot water. It’s a welcome relief for my screaming muscles. It’s a shame it won’t relax my screaming brain. ‘No, I don’t.’ I affirm. I’m attempting to put my foot down again. What a laugh!

I look up to a very disgruntled face as he climbs in behind me and pulls my back against his chest. He’s silent for a short while before he takes a deep breath. ‘If I let you go to the office, you have to do something for me.’

If he lets me? This man is beyond self-assured and arrogant. But he’s negotiating, which is an improvement on demanding or forcing me. ‘Okay. What?’

‘You’ll come to The Manor’s anniversary party.’

‘What? Like a social event?’

‘Yes, exactly like a social event.’

I’m glad he can’t see my face, because if he could, he would see a screwed up contortion of displeasure. So, now I’m between a rock and a hard place. I get out of going to The Manor today, but I’m negotiating delaying the chore, not completely avoiding it. And for a social event? I would rather boil my head!

‘When?’ I sound less enthused than I feel, and that’s saying something.

‘Two weeks today.’ He wraps his arms around the tops of my shoulders and nuzzles his face into my neck.

I should be dancing around the bathroom in joy. He wants to take me as a date. It doesn’t matter that it’s the posh hotel that he owns, he wants me there. But I’m not sure I’m prepared to spend the evening under the unfriendly, watchful eye of Sarah. And it’s a dead cert that she’ll be there.

‘You’ll come.’ He thrusts his tongue in my ear, swirls it around a few times and kisses under the hollow of my lobe, before thrusting it back in my ear.

I squirm under his hot tongue, my body slipping over his. ‘Stop!’ I shudder.

‘No.’ He squeezes me to him as I writher, water splashing everywhere. ‘Say you’ll come.’

‘No! Jesse!’ I laugh when his hand moves to my hip. ‘Stop!’

‘Please.’ he purrs in my ear.

I stop struggling. Please? Did I hear him right? I’m stunned on the spot. Jesse Ward said please? Okay, so he’s brokering a deal, and he said please. Well, on the bright side, at least I know he’s looking at least a few weeks into the future with me. If I had of spent all day at The Manor today, there’s not a shadow of a doubt that I would be attending The Manors anniversary party anyway. I should be grateful, I suppose.

‘Okay, I’ll come.’ I sigh, earning myself a super tight squeeze and an over-the-top nuzzle. I reach up and wrap my hands around his forearms. I’ve made him happy. And that, in turn, makes me very happy.

So, I’m going to be his date. That will please Sarah no end. Actually, I will go, and I’ll look forward to it too. He wants me there, and that has to signify something, doesn’t it? I can’t help the little satisfied smile playing at the corners of my mouth. I’m not usually the competitive type, but I really dislike Sarah and I really like Jesse, so it’s a no brainer really.

‘How many years?’ I ask.

‘What?’

‘The Manor’s anniversary, how many years is it?’

‘A few,’

I crane my neck around to get him in my line of sight, finding a completely blank expression. He’s giving nothing away. I shake my head, turning back around and letting him have his stupid age secret. I’m past caring now. I love him – nothing could change that.

‘I’ve never had a bath before.’ he says quietly.

‘Never?’

‘No, never, I’m a shower man. But I think I might be a bath man now.’

‘I love having a bath.’

‘Me too, but only if you’re in it with me,’ He squeezes me. ‘It’s a good job the designer of this place anticipated the need for a big one.’

I laugh. ‘I think she did well.’ Never in a million years did I anticipate enjoying a soak in it when I helped coordinate the crane lift of the damn thing. At the time, I was regretting being so extravagant, but now I’m reaping the benefits of the giant, bespoke tub, it was definitely a ball ache worth enduring.

‘I wonder if she ever considered being in it?’ he muses.

‘No, she didn’t.’

‘Well, I’m glad she is.’ He tugs at my ear lobe with his teeth as I feel his feet slide down my shins, rubbing across the tops of my feet above the bubbly water.

I close my eyes and rest my head against his chest. Perhaps I should ditch work and stay with him all day after all. In my sleepy bath time slumber, I decide that tub talk with Jesse is one of my new favourite pastimes. And I might even start running in the morning. Not crazy distances, but around the Royal Parks once or twice every other morning. I must remember to stretch.

‘You’re going to be late for work.’ he says softly in my ear. I pout to myself. I’m way too comfortable. ‘Just think…if you didn’t go to the office, we could stay longer.’ He kisses my temple and rises to get out, leaving me silently wishing I had of relented to his insistence on staying with him all day.

I give my own little private huff of disgust and grab the men’s shampoo. It looks like it’s going to be another bad hair day.

Chapter 31

 

I pad into the bedroom and find my cream, fitted dress spread out on the bed, with my nude heels and some fancy lace underwear that I don’t recognise. I frown to myself, picking up the unfamiliar bra and knickers set. He’s brought me underwear, and he’s brought me underwear in the right size? He really does think he can dictate my wardrobe.

I thread my fingers over the pretty, delicate lace in a soft cream colour. It’s beautiful, but a bit over the top for work. I start going through my gym bag to find an alternative, but there’s no underwear to be found and no other option in the clothes department either. In fact, there are no other clothes at all, the sly sod.

I resign myself to accepting my fate, getting myself ready and slipping into the underwear and dress that Jesse has decided I’m wearing today. I suppose I should be grateful that he’s not laid out my oversized, chunky knit jumper. I’m super relieved that he’s had the initiative to leave me a hairdryer, though. I apply my make-up, blow-dry my hair into a tousled, slightly messy mass, pile it up and make my way downstairs.

I find Jesse at the kitchen island on his mobile, dunking his finger into a jar of peanut butter. He glances up at me, nearly knocking me off of my heels with his roguish smile. Oh yes, he’s super satisfied with himself.

I run my eyes over his grey suited, black shirted physic and sigh in admiration. His dirty blonde hair has been ruffled with wax and set in a messy array to one side, and I’m super appreciative that he’s not shaved. He looks rugged and mind-bogglingly handsome. Why did I insist on going to work?

‘I’ll be there when I’ve dropped Ava at work.’ He turns himself on the stool, cocking his head to the side. ‘Yes, tell Sarah I want it on my desk when I get there.’ He pats his lap, and I make my way over, fighting the scowl from my face at the mention of her name. ‘We revoke his membership, simple.’ I lower myself onto his knee, smiling when he buries himself in my neck and inhales deeply. ‘He can kick off all he likes, he’s gone, end of.’ he spits harshly. What’s he on about? ‘Get Sarah to cancel it…yes…okay…see you in a bit.’

He hangs up, tosses his phone on the worktop and snakes his arms under my knees to pull me up from floor and onto his lap, greeting me with a greedy, full on kiss. He moans into my mouth in pure satisfaction.

‘I like your dress.’ he mumbles around my lips. He’s extra minty, mixed with a little peanut butter. I can’t stand peanut butter, but I love him and all this attentiveness, so I’ll ignore it.

‘You picked it. Of course you like it. What’s with the underwear?’  

He pecks my lips and puts me down. ‘I told you, always in lace.’ He runs his eyes down my body.

I don’t argue – a pointless exercise if ever there was one, and I’ve got it on now.

‘Breakfast?’ he asks.

I glance at the clock on the cooker. ‘I’ll grab something at the office.’ I can’t be late. I grab my bag to get my pills. ‘Can I have some water?’

‘Knock yourself out, baby.’ He returns to his jar of peanut butter.

I walk over to the huge fridge-freezer, delving into the deepest depths of my bag. Where are they? I slap my bag onto the worktop next to the fridge, removing everything, but I find no pills. Please, not again. I’m hopeless.

‘What’s up?’ he asks.

‘Nothing,’ I mutter, dumping everything back into my bag. ‘Fuck.’ I curse under my breath, but then mentally applaud myself for separating the packets and putting some in my underwear drawer.

‘Watch your mouth, Ava.’ he rebukes me. ‘Come on, you’ll be late.’

‘Sorry,’ I mutter. ‘This is your fault, Ward.’ I swing my bag onto my shoulder.

‘Mine?’ he blurts, all wide eyed. ‘What’s my fault and how?’

‘Nothing, but it’s your fault because you’re distracting me.’ I accuse.

He looks down at me, his lips twitching. ‘You love me distracting you.’

I do as well. I can’t deny it.

I’m delivered to Berkeley Square in record time. He really is a menace on the roads, in his stupidly expensive car. He parks illegally on the corner and turns himself to face me. He’s chewing his bottom lip and he has been for most of the journey. What’s he thinking about?

‘I love waking up with you.’ he says gently, reaching over and running his thumb across my bottom lip.

I turn in my seat so I’m facing him. ‘I love waking up with you too. But I don’t like being run ragged at five in the morning.’ My legs are really feeling it, and it’s only going to get worse. I didn’t stretch after the run because I was sidetracked by Mr Challenging and his challenging ways. My day is looking to be really uncomfortable with my nude heels to boot.

‘You would prefer to be fucked ragged?’ He grins that roguish grin, running his palm down the front on my dress.

Oh, no you don’t! ‘No, I prefer sleepy sex.’ I correct him. I lean over, plant a chaste kiss on his mouth and get out of the car, leaving him and his frown line alone. I lean back in. ‘I’ll be seeing you tomorrow. Thank you for exhausting me before work.’ I shut the door and start walking off on my abused legs in the most uncomfortable shoes I own. Thank God I’ve got a day in the office because I couldn’t be prancing around London in these beauties. My phone shouts at me from my bag. I pull it out.

You look incredible in that dress. Good choice. You’re welcome. Jx

Turning around, I see him watching me walk away. I perform a little rotation and catch his dazzling smile before I hear the guttural roar of his car go speeding off. I smile to myself. He’s been really rather reasonable this morning.

I walk into the office and find Tom consoling Victoria at her desk. I roll my eyes to myself. What drama has occurred at eight thirty on a Friday morning?

‘Just get it fixed.’ Tom soothes, rubbing her back. I look down, finding Victoria inspecting her thumb nail. I roll my eyes again.

‘I don’t have time today,’ she cries. ‘This is a disaster!’

She broke a flipping nail? The girl should have sought a career in stage school. But then I remember…she has a date with Drew tonight. Oh, this really is a disaster for Victoria. I make my way to my desk as she files down her broken nail, Tom continuing to rub her back. He looks up at me, making an equally dramatic give-me-strength gesture before virtually sprinting over to my side of the office. I know what’s coming.

He plants his palms on my desk, leaning forward. ‘What was all that about?’

‘Shhhhhhh!’ I scowl at him, looking over my shoulder into Patrick’s office. He’s not there, but he could be in the kitchen or the conference room. I should have known my gay, inquisitive friend would be picking my brain on Jesse’s shock visit to the office yesterday. In fact, I’m surprised he held out until this morning.

Tom waves a dismissive hand. ‘He’s not here. Tell me!’

I focus my attention on my computer, turning it on and faffing with the mouse. What do I tell him? I’ve fallen in love with a controlling, domineering, unreasonable, neurotic, trampling man, who happens to be a client and fucks me senseless? Oh, who also gives me the countdown when I disobey him? Yes, that about covers it. I look up and find Victoria’s joined the interrogation party.

‘He’s one hot S.O.B!’ she sings.

‘S.O.B?’ I frown.

‘Son of a bitch.’ they say in unison.

Oh? Yes, he’s that too. I smile to myself, stretching my legs under the table on a sigh. Oh, that feels good.

‘Don’t hold out on us!’ Tom whines, executing the gayest pout I’ve ever seen.

‘I’m sleeping with him.’ I shrug. I’m in love with him!

They both look at me like I’ve sprouted horns, then at each other on an eye roll. Both sets of arms get folded across their chests as they stand before me. Tom looks over his fashion spectacles, and I glance over my desk to see if they’re tapping their feet as well.

‘Ava, we know that,’ Tom huffs impatiently. ‘We just want to know if the rebound fucking has moved into more interesting territory.’ He lowers his head further down, making me feel like I’m under a microscope. I am. I remove the fingers from my hair.

‘I could ask Drew.’ Victoria chirps.

‘What?’ I throw a filthy look in her direction when I realise what she means. ‘Victoria, I’m not in high school. I don’t need you picking his friends brain. Keep your mouth shut!’ I sound really harsh, but I honestly cannot believe she has just suggested something so pathetic and immature.

She looks at me all hurt and backs off, returning to her desk and her broken nail. Tom looks at me, disapproval written all over his face. I shake my head at him. I don’t care. She can be such a ditsy cow sometimes.

‘It’s sex, nothing more.’ I inform him. ‘Now, leave me alone!’ I grab my mouse and direct it aimlessly around my screen.

‘Hmmm,’ he muses, leaving me at my desk in peace. ‘Just sex, my arse.’ I hear him mutter.

I spend the morning checking on my clients and schedules. I’m pleased. Everything is running smoothly, with no major dramas to attend to and no lazy contractors to sack. I pencil in a few site visits for next week, smiling as I write between the diagonal lines of permanent marker pen. I need to replace my diary before Patrick cops a load of my daily appointments with the Lord.

I gladly accept the cappuccino and muffin that lands on my desk, courtesy of Sally, and frown when I hear a commotion of car horns coming from outside the office. I look up, spotting a pink van double parked and Kate frantically waving to get my attention. I lift myself from my chair, groaning as my muscles scream in protest. I hiss on every step I take until I’m stood at the side of Margo Junior, smiling fondly at my fiery friend’s excited face.

‘Isn’t she pretty?’ Kate lovingly caresses the steering wheel of Margo Junior.

‘Beautiful,’ I agree, but then I remember something. ‘What are you playing at letting Sam have free reign on my underwear drawer?’

‘I couldn’t stop him!’ Her voice is high pitched and defensive. It bloody well should be. ‘He’s a cheeky swine.’ She grins.

I’ve no doubt that he is. The thought instantly reminds me about the whole tying up charade. I’m tempted to ask Kate, but I quickly decide that I really don’t want to know.

‘How’s Jesse?’ Her grin widens.

‘Fine,’ I narrow my eyes on her.

‘You stayed there,’ she says, her tone suggestive. ‘Have fun?’

I scoff. ‘Well, I had a wild ride on a Ducati 1098, had daggers thrown at me by Sarah and ran nine miles this morning.’ I reach down, rubbing my hands over my aching thighs.

‘Fuck, is she still at it? Tell her to take a leap.’ She frowns. ‘You ran nine miles? Well, that stinks. And what the hell is a Ducatsiwhatevery?’

‘A superbike,’ I shrug. I wouldn’t have known that myself a few days ago. ‘He’s deposited a hundred grand into the Rococo Union bank account.’

‘What?’ she shrieks.

‘You heard.’

‘Why?’

I shrug. ‘To keep Patrick quiet while he hogs me. He doesn’t want to share me.’

‘Wow! That man’s crazy.’

I laugh. Yes, crazy man; crazy deluded; crazy rich; crazy challenging, crazy loveable… ‘Are we out tonight?’ I ask. I’ve rebuffed crazy man on the assumption that Kate’s free. He can’t assume I’m there to fuck at his beck and call. It is very tempting, though.

‘Absolutely! Ask Victoria and Gayboy.’

I sag in relief. ‘Victoria has a date with Drew, but I’ll ask Tom. Are you not seeing Sam then? He’s becoming a bit of a permanent fixture at your place.’ I arch a brow. He’s actually a semi naked permanent fixture, but I don’t point that out.

She’s going to play it off as fun. ‘It’s just a bit of fun.’ she replies haughtily.

I laugh at her casualness. I know different. We’re talking about the girl who hasn’t been on a second date for years. Sam’s cute. I can certainly see the appeal.

A car starts honking its horn from behind Margo Junior. ‘Oh, fuck off!’ Kate yells. ‘I’m off. I’ll see you at home later. You’re in charge of getting the wine.’ The window starts to rise and she grins from ear to ear. I still can’t believe he brought her a van.

I suddenly remember the deal I brokered in exchange for my clothes…no drinking tonight. Well, that’s rubbish because I’m looking forward to a glass or two. He’ll never know. Kate zooms off down the road, and I return to the office.

‘Patrick called,’ Sally informs me as I pass her desk. ‘He’s not coming in at all today. He’s playing golf.’

‘Thanks, Sal.’ I return to my desk, stretching my legs back out. Yes, I’m really feeling it now. Standing back up, I pull my heel up to my backside, letting out a long, grateful breath when my thigh muscle stretches most satisfyingly. My phone starts jumping around my desk and Placebo starts crooning about Running up that Hill. I don’t even have to look at the screen to know who it is. He has amazing taste in music.

‘I like.’ I say, by way of greeting.

‘Me too. We’ll make love to it later.’

‘You’re not seeing me later.’ I remind him again. He’s doing this on purpose.

‘I miss you.’

I can’t see him, but I know he’s pouting. And as for the make love part…well, it’s a massive improvement on fucking. I smile, my heart performing jumping jacks in my chest. ‘You miss me?’

‘I do, I miss you.’ he grumbles. I glance at my computer. It’s one o’clock. It’s not even been five hours since I left him. ‘Don’t go out tonight.’ he says. It’s not a plea, it’s a demand.

I flop back in my chair. I knew this was coming. ‘Don’t.’ I warn, in the most assertive voice I can muster. ‘I’ve made plans.’

‘You know, you may be at work, but don’t think I won’t come down there and fuck some sense into you.’ His voice is deadly serious and even a little angry.

He wouldn’t, he couldn’t. Or could he? Bloody hell, I’m not even sure. ‘Knock yourself out.’ I respond, very lightly.

He laughs. ‘I was serious, lady.’

‘I know you were.’ I’ve no doubt about it, but he will have to wait until tomorrow to do any sort of fucking.

‘Do your legs ache?’ he asks, just as I’m stretching them under my desk again.

‘-ish,’ I’m not giving him the satisfaction of knowing that I’m actually in pain. I’ll have a Radox bath before I go out. Hold up…was he trying to cripple me so I can’t go out?

‘-ish,’ he replies, humour clear in his husky voice. ‘Remember our deal?’

I roll my eyes to myself. I was kidding myself if I thought he would forget about his little deal. And now I’m certain he had me running a marathon at the break of dawn in an attempt to immobilise me. Control freak!

‘No reminder fuck required.’ I mutter. He’ll never know. I’m not going to get so drunk that I have a raging hangover – it’s too soon after my last performance.

‘Watch your mouth, Ava.’ he sighs, tiredly. ‘And I’ll decide when and if a reminder fuck is necessary.’

He’s serious? I gape a little down the phone. Has he no sense of humour? I stand up again, pulling my thigh to my butt on a satisfied groan. Damn him and his break of dawn run.

‘Roger that.’ I confirm with all the sarcasm it deserves.

‘When will I see you?’ he sighs.

‘Tomorrow?’ I really do want to see him, despite his challenging ways.

‘I’ll pick you up at eight.’

Eight? It’s a Saturday, I want a lay in. Eight? I really won’t be getting drunk, not if Jesse is going to be rocking up at eight. ‘Noon,’ I counter.

‘Eight.’

‘Eleven.’

‘Eight!’ he barks.

‘You’re supposed to meet me half way!’ The man is impossible.

‘I’ll see you at eight.’ He hangs up, leaving me on one leg with my phone hanging from my ear. I look at my mobile disbelievingly. He can turn up at eight all he likes; I won’t be awake to let him in. And I seriously doubt Kate will be either. I sink my achy body back into my chair on a few sharp inhales of breath. I’m never running again.

‘Tom,’ I call. ‘We’re out tonight, you coming?’

He looks up with a dirty, great big grin on his baby face. ‘I shall decline graciously,’ He bows his head like the gentleman I know he’s not. ‘I have a date!’

‘Another?’

‘I can’t come. I assume you were going to ask me.’ Victoria huffs without looking up from her drawings. I don’t dignify her sarcasm with a response, flashing my screwed up face to her back instead.

‘Yes! This one is definitely a keeper.’  Tom nods with the biggest smirk on his face.

I leave Tom with his grin, returning to my computer. They’re all keepers.

I leave the office at six, heading straight to the shop to get some Radox and a bottle of wine, before making my way to the tube. I fight off the temptation to open the wine here and now. It’s Friday, I’m catching up with Kate tonight and spending the day with my challenging control freak tomorrow. Perfect.

I walk through the front door, finding a half-naked Sam walking out of Kate’s workshop, followed by a fully dressed Kate with a highly satisfied smile on her face.

‘Seriously?’ I splutter, as I try to direct my eyes anywhere, except on Sam’s fine physic.

He blinds me with his ultimate cheeky grin and turns to face Kate, giving me a rear view of his bare back and baggy jeaned arse. It’s then that I notice a lump of cake mixture at the nape of his neck.

‘You missed a bit.’ I point to the offending smear of mixture.

Kate swivels Sam back around to face me and licks up the centre of his back towards his neck. He smirks at me. I laugh. What a pair of exhibitionists.