Текст книги "Beneath This Man"

Автор книги: Jodi Ellen Malpas

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Текущая страница: 13 (всего у книги 33 страниц)

‘Jesse!’ I’m gripped from every direction by stabbing shots of pleasure flying through my nervous system, exploding at my core.

I scream.

His drives become more urgent and his breathing loud and erratic as he smashes against me on carnal shouts and releases everything he has, my core muscles clenching greedily onto him, my limp, exhausted body completely helpless to his unforgiving blows.

He collapses on top of me in a sweaty heap and rocks gently against me. ‘My work here is done.’ he pants in my ear.

I lie under his hard, warm body, trying to gather my senses and breath, and wonder if it will always be like this. He gets the results he wants, so yes, it probably will be. I’ve got to learn to deal with this. I’ve got to train myself to repel him. I laugh at such a pointless exercise. I don’t want to repel him.

He pushes himself up on his hands and it’s only now I notice he doesn’t wince. ‘Your hand!’ I cry.

He lifts it up and I can still see slight bruising, but the swelling has subsided massively. ‘It’s fine. Sarah had me keep ice on it for most of the afternoon.’

What?

‘Sarah?’ I blurt without thinking about what tone I should use. It comes out accusingly.

He frowns at me, and I hate myself for sounding so shocked. ‘She was just being a friend.’ he says coolly, but this only heightens my concern. She would have seen his marked wrists. It wouldn’t take much intelligence to figure out where they had come from. Another woman looking after him doesn’t sit well, and the fact that it’s pouty lips really has my jealous streak racing to the surface. She has made it obvious that she doesn’t like me, at the same time making it perfectly obvious that she really likes Jesse. And the women of The Manor will probably treat me with the same brusqueness and …my head hurts.

I suddenly feel extremely uncomfortable with my possessiveness. Good God, I ridicule Jesse for this. I’m a bloody hypocrite and the way he is staring down at me, gaging my mood, isn’t helping. He’s a very desirable man, who assaults women with that fucking smile and has them in puddles at his feet.

I wriggle underneath him to get free and he obliges, letting me up on a frown. I head straight for the bathroom and immerse myself in the hot bath. I’m really not comfortable with these feelings. I’ve never been jealous in my life. I’m going to be fighting women off on a daily basis. That’s a full time job in itself. Maybe I will need to retire.

‘Has someone got a touch of the green eyed monster?’

I look up and see him stood in all of his naked glory by the bathroom doorway. ‘No.’ I scoff. I couldn’t be more obviously jealous if I tried.

He walks over to the bath and steps in behind me, lowering his body until I’m cradled between his legs. He drapes his arms over my shoulders and pulls me back to rest on his chest. ‘Ava, you are the only woman for me,’ he says softly in my ear. ‘And I am all yours.’ He picks up the natural sponge from the edge of the bath, dips it to soak up some water, and then starts running it across my breasts.

‘You need to tell me more about yourself.’

I feel his chest lift on a sigh. ‘What do you want to know?’

‘Is The Manor strictly business or have you mixed it with pleasure?’ I’m pleased with my forward tone. I know he has mixed it with pleasure because Mr Creep who got roughed up by Jesse the day I found out about The Manor’s happenings said as much. And so did Sam, for that matter. Then why am I asking? I feel my blood begin to boil with bitterness.

The sponge pauses between my breasts for a few seconds, but then he continues smoothing it over my body. ‘Dive straight in, why don’t you.’ he says dryly.

‘Tell me.’ I press.

He sighs, so heavily I almost turn around to glare at him, just so he knows I don’t appreciate his bored reaction to my question. ‘I’ve dabbled.’ he says irritably.

Dabbled?

I’m not sure I like the sound of dabbling, especially in this area of enquiry. ‘Are you still dabbling?’

‘No!’ He’s truly defensive.

‘When was the last time you dabbled?’ I don’t think I want to know this. Why am I asking these questions? His sponge strokes pause again. Please don’t tell me he has to think about this.

‘Way before I met you.’ He continues caressing me with the sponge.

‘How long before you met me?’ I need to shut up. I really don’t want to know this stuff, but damn, I can’t stop the stupid questions flying out.

‘Ava, does it matter?’ he’s annoyed.

‘Yes.’ I retort quickly. No, actually, it doesn’t, but his short, huffy answer is prickling my curiosity.

‘It wasn’t regular.’ He’s doing his best to avoid this.

‘That didn’t answer my question.’

‘Is anything I tell you going to change the way you feel about me?’

That question has me prickling further. What has he done? ‘No.’ I say, but I’m not so sure now. He clearly thinks it will.

‘So, can we drop it? It’s in my past with a whole heap of other stuff, and I would rather leave it there.’ His tone is final. I feel slighted. ‘There is only you. End of.’ He kisses the back of my head. ‘When are we moving you in?’

I groan inwardly. He fucked that sense into me as well. I notice all of this so called sense he’s fucking into me, only makes sense to him. ‘I’m here.’ I remind him.

‘I mean your stuff,’ he pinches my nipple. ‘Don’t be clever.’

I roll my eyes. I need to retrieve the rest of my stuff from Matt, and I have a ridiculous amount of clothes at Kate’s, even after my brutal clear out, but I’m still not sure that this is a good idea. ‘I’ve got to pick up the rest of my stuff from Matt.’ Did I really just say that out loud?

‘No, you fucking won’t!’ he shouts in my ear, and I recoil at his booming voice. Obviously, I did. ‘I’ll send John. I told you, you won’t see him again.’

Right, I’m dropping this right now. I’m not going to get anywhere with it; I’m not stupid. John’s not going, and I’ve already arranged it, anyway. He will never know. Well, he will, when I’ve got my stuff, but it will be too late for him to stop me by then.

I think of something else. ‘Tell me where you went when you disappeared on me.’

He tenses beneath me. ‘No.’ He spits the word out fast.

Okay, now I’m getting mad. I turn myself over to lay on his front so he is forced to look me in the eyes. ‘The last time you held back on me, I left you.’

His eyes widen slightly, but then narrow. He knows I’ve got him. ‘I locked myself in my office.’

‘For four days?’ I ask doubtfully.

‘Yes, for four days, Ava.’ He looks past me, refusing to meet my eyes.

‘Look at me.’ I demand harshly.

His eyes fly to mine in obvious shock at my order. ‘Excuse me?’ he almost laughs. It’s patronising, and I don’t appreciate it.

‘What were you doing in your office?’ I ask. Oh heck, why don’t I just shut the hell up?

‘Drinking. There. That’s what I was doing. I was trying to drown out thoughts and images of you with vodka. Are you happy now?’ He tries to shift me from his body, but I tense from top to toe in an attempt to make myself a dead weight.

He was drinking? Was he unconscious for four days like he was when I found him on Friday? Oh, now I just feel incredibly guilty.

I fight with him, pushing his slippery body back down into the bath. He gives in and lets me. I know he could overpower me if he wanted to, so he doesn’t really want to escape. I slide my body up his so our noses meet.

He lifts his eyes. ‘I’m sorry.’ he whispers, and I fall apart all over him, taking his mouth urgently, a silent message that I don’t care. ‘I’m so sorry, baby.’

‘Please, don’t.’ I push myself into him, tackling his mouth, desperate for him to know that I couldn’t care less. I feel responsible…guilty.

‘When I saw those bruises on your arms, I realised I was in deep, Ava. Way too deep.’

‘Shhhh.’ I hush him, covering his whole face with my mouth, kissing every square inch of him. ‘Enough, now.’

He cups my bum and pulls me up, burying his face between my breasts. ‘It won’t happen again, I’ll kill myself before hurting you again.’

He doesn’t have to use such strong words. I understand. He’s regretful. I am too. I should never have walked away from him. I should have stayed, thrown him in a cold shower and sobered him up. ‘I said enough, Jesse.’

‘I love you.’

‘I know you do. I’m sorry too.’

He releases his hold and I slide back down his body until we’re eye to eye. ‘What have you got to be sorry for?’

I shrug. ‘I wish I hadn’t left you.’

‘Ava, I don’t blame you for walking out on me. I deserved that, and if anything, it will only make me more determined not to drink. Knowing I could lose you is enough of a motivation, trust me.’

‘I’ll never walk away from you again. Never.’ I affirm.

He smiles lightly. ‘I hope you don’t because I’d be finished.’

‘I would be finished too.’ I say quietly, running my hands through his hair. I need him to know the feeling is completely mutual.

‘Okay, neither of us is walking away. That’s clear.’ He pushes his lips to mine softly.

‘Are you hungry?’ I ask against his lips. We need to change the direction of this conversation. We’ve said enough.

‘Yes, are you going to cook me a well-balanced meal?’

I smile around his lips. ‘I’m tired. Can we get a well-balanced take away?’

‘Absolutely. You soak, I’ll order dinner.’ He props me up and gets out of the bath.

Tub talk today has been insightful and strangely satisfying. He’s opening up.

After a not so well-balanced Chinese takeaway, I curl up on the sofa under Jesse’s arm. He strokes my hair as he watches some MotoGP programme. It’s obviously a passion, judging by the intensity of his concentration on the television. I snuggle and wonder what tomorrow will bring. He’s already negotiated lunch with one of his mind boggling sense fucks. I could refuse, but then I would only be setting myself up for a reminder fuck. Would that be so bad?

I start to doze off and my semi-conscious mind homes in on his unknown activities at The Manor. Is it really compulsory for me to know every little detail? I believe him when he says I’m the only woman for him, I really do, so picking his brains on ex-lovers is not going to get me anywhere, apart from unreasonably jealous. The thought of him with another woman makes me feel physically sick. He’s a full grown man of a certain age – of which I now know – and a mouthwatering one at that. His sexual conflicts are probably plentiful, but they are in the past, just like he said. Here and now is all that matters, and I am here, and I’m now.

‘Come on, lady.’ I’m gathered up into his arms and carried upstairs to bed. I hardly stir as he strips me down and deposits me in his bed, climbing in next to me and pulling me into his hard chest. ‘I love you.’ he whispers, and because speech has evaded me, I just snuggle closer to him.

I open my eyes and it’s still dark. I’m vaguely aware of the bed vibrating under me, and I’m wet.

What the hell?

It takes me a few moments, but when awareness finally hits me, it really hits me hard. I scramble over to flick the lamp on and the light slams into my eyes like gravel. I squint to gain focus and find Jesse sat up in bed rocking back and forth with his knees clenched to his chest. Holy shit, he’s drenched and his pupils are huge black saucers. He looks petrified. I throw myself over to him. Should I cuddle him?

‘Jesse?’ I speak quietly, not wanting to startle him. He doesn’t respond. He just continues with the rocking, but then he starts mumbling.

‘I need you.’ he says quietly.

‘Jesse?’ I place my hand on his arm and shake him gently. He looks so scared. ‘Jesse?’

‘I need you, I need you, I need you.’ He repeats the mantra over and over. I want to cry.

‘Jesse, please,’ I plead. ‘Stop, I’m here.’ I can’t bear to see him like this. He’s shaking uncontrollably and sweat is pouring from his brow, his frown line by far the deepest I have ever seen it. I try to position myself in his line of sight, but he doesn’t acknowledge me. He just carries on with the rocking and mumbling, staring straight through me. He’s asleep. I pull his legs down away from his body and climb onto his lap, wrapping my arms around his sodden back, holding him as tight as I can. I don’t know if he is aware, but his arms come up and grip me, and his face buries deep into my neck.

We sit like this forever. I whisper in his ear, hoping he will recognise me and snap out of his night terror. Is that what this is? I have no idea. He is definitely not awake, I know that much.

‘Ava?’ he mumbles in my neck after an age. His voice is cracked and throaty.

He’s awake. ‘Hey, I’m here.’ I pull back and cup his face with both of my hands. His eyes search mine, looking for something. I’m not sure what.

‘I’m so sorry.’

‘What are you sorry for?’ He’s worrying me even more now.

‘For everything.’ He falls back, taking me with him so I’m lying across his wet chest. My body is soaking, but I don’t care.

My head rests on his chest and I listen as his heart rate slows. ‘Jesse?’ I say nervously. He doesn’t answer. I lift my head to look at him and see he’s fast asleep, looking peaceful. What was that all about?

I lay on him for hours, my mind racing with reasons for him to be sorry. Bloody Hell, maybe I am reading too much into this. There’s plenty for him to be sorry for. Lying to me, deceiving me, drink, his unreasonableness, his possessive streak, his neurotic behaviour, trampling my meeting today, his…

I doze off, running through all of the reasons why Jesse could be sorry.

Chapter 13

‘I love you.’

I feel familiar lush lips brush over mine as I come round, and I open my eyes to Jesse’s stunning face suspended above me. ‘Wake up my beautiful girl.’

I raise my arms over my head and stretch. Oh, that feels good. I blink up at him and note he’s dressed. My sleepy brain quickly registers that with Jesse dressed already, there is no danger of being dragged around London on one of his punishing runs.

‘What time is it?’ I croak.

‘You’re fine, it’s only six thirty. I’ve got a few early supplier meetings at The Manor. I needed to see you before I go.’ He leans down and kisses me, and I get a taste of his minty breath.

Supplier meetings? What sort of supplies would that be? I snap a lid on those thoughts immediately. It’s too early and anyway, if it is six thirty, then it really does mean it’s too late for a fourteen mile trip around London, so I couldn’t care less what supplies they could be.

‘My eyes don’t have to be open for you to see me.’ I complain, as I reach around his back and pull him down. He smells yummy.

‘Come and have breakfast with me.’ He pulls me up from the bed, and I wrap my naked body around him in my usual chimp-ish fashion. ‘You’re creasing me.’ he says with zero concern, carrying me out of the bedroom and down to the kitchen.

‘Put me down then.’ I bite back. I know he won’t.

‘Never,’

I smile smugly as I absorb him in all of his fresh water loveliness. ‘I don’t need a reminder fuck. You can still come to lunch.’

‘Mouth.’ He laughs. ‘I’m sorry. I really needed to see you before I go.’

I stiffen instantly at his words. Well, one word in particular; sorry. Shit! I had forgotten about his midnight meltdown. Well, not forgotten, it just hadn’t landed in my morning brain yet.

‘What’s wrong?’ He’s sensed my sudden tenseness. He places me on the cool marble, but it doesn’t shock me like it did the other morning. I’m too busy searching my brain for the best way to approach this.

‘You woke up in the night.’ I inform his concerned face.

‘I did?’ His brow furrows, and I don’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed.

‘You don’t remember?’ I ask tentatively.

‘No.’ he says on a shrug. ‘What do you want for breakfast?’ He leaves me on the counter and goes to the fridge. ‘Eggs, bagel, fruit?’

Is that it? ‘You said you need me.’ I throw it in the air and hope he catches it.

He doesn’t. He lets it drop straight to the floor and tramples all over it. ‘And? I say that when I’m awake.’ He doesn’t even turn away from the fridge.

‘You said you were sorry.’ I place my hands under my thighs.

He turns around from the fridge. ‘I’ve said that when I’m awake too.’

This is true, he’s said it all when he’s awake, but he was in such a state.

He smiles. ‘Ava, I was probably having a bad dream. I don’t remember.’ He turns back to the fridge.

‘You were just a bit frantic, I was worried.’ I say timidly. It wasn’t normal.

He shuts the fridge door, harder than is really necessary, and I immediately regret bringing this up. I’m not scared of him. I’ve seen him go off at the deep end plenty of times, but the way he is holding himself is making me wary. I don’t want to start a fresh day on a quarrel.  It was just sleep talk, after all.

He wanders over to me chewing his bottom lip, and I watch him with caution. When he reaches me, he muscles between my legs and takes my hands out from under my thighs, holding them between us and stroking the tops with his thumbs.

‘Stop worrying about what I say in my sleep. Did I say I didn’t love you?’ he asks softy.

I feel my brow knit. ‘No.’

His green eyes twinkle as one side of his mouth tips upwards at the corner. ‘That’s all that matters.’ He plants a kiss on my forehead.

I pull away from his lips. Yes, actually, it does matter. He’s doing it again. He’s evading. ‘That wasn’t normal. And I’m getting pissed off hearing that tone.’ I scowl, real hard, and he recoils in shock, his mouth gaping slightly, but I don’t give him a chance to come back at me. ‘You either talk, or I’m gone.’

His gaping mouth shuts, but he still doesn’t speak. I’ve shocked him.

I raise cocky eyebrows at him. ‘What’s it to be?’

‘You said you’d never leave me.’ he says quietly.

‘Okay. Let me rephrase that. I won’t leave you if you start answering me when I ask you something. How about that?’

He’s chewing his lip and staring at me, but I don’t look away. I maintain the eye contact and keep a deadly serious face. His thumb strokes become firmer. ‘It’s not important.’

I laugh in disbelieve and make to move, but he moves in closer, hampering my attempts to get myself down from the counter. ‘Jesse, I’ll walk away.’ I so won’t, I know this.

‘I dreamt you were gone.’ He fires the words out quickly, almost panicky.

I stop with my struggle to free myself. ‘What?’

‘I dreamt I woke up, and you were gone.’

‘Gone where?’

‘I don’t fucking know,’ He releases his grip of me and his hands plunge straight into his hair. ‘I couldn’t find you.’

‘You dreamt I left you?’

His frown line is fierce. ‘I don’t know where you went. Just gone.’

‘Oh.’ I don’t know what else to say. He won’t look at me. He got himself in that state over me leaving him?

‘It wasn’t a nice dream, that’s all.’ He’s embarrassed, and I suddenly feel a little guilty. This is a serious hang up.

‘I’m not leaving you,’ I try to reassure him, ‘but we’ve got to talk. I have to torture information out of you, Jesse. It’s exhausting.’

‘I’m sorry.’

I reach forward and pull him back between my thighs. This is one of those moments – the ones where I’m the strong one. They are becoming more frequent as I’m working out this man. ‘Have you had bad dreams before?’

‘No.’ He accepts my hold and squeezes me tight to him.

‘Because you drank.’

‘No, Ava. I’m not an alcoholic.’

‘I didn’t say you were.’ I hold him tightly, feeling a little sad for him, but quietly pleased that he’s opened up. He is so strong and self-assured, but these little cracks are becoming more obvious. Am I making these cracks?

‘Can I make you a well-balanced breakfast now?’ He pulls out from my clinch.

‘Yes, please.’

‘What do you want?’

I shrug. ‘Toast.’

‘Toast?’ he asks questioningly. I nod. It’s six thirty in the morning. My stomach hasn’t woken up yet. ‘It’s hardly well-balanced.’ he mutters.

‘It’s too early to eat.’

‘No, it’s not. You’ll eat. You’re too thin.’ He releases me and goes to put some bread in the toaster.

 I lower myself down from the island and take a seat on a stool to admire him as he faffs around the kitchen. I’m touched. He openly admits he’s crap at cooking so the fact he has offered to make me breakfast is quite pleasing. Resting my elbows on the worktop, I sit my chin in my palms and study him. He had a bad dream. Or nightmare. Either or, though, he told me, and that must have been hard. He’s a big, strapping man who was reduced to a cowering mess by a bad dream. I hope they are not frequent because it was horrible seeing him like that – scared and vulnerable. I didn’t like it

 I sigh to myself. He looks as handsome as ever this morning. He’s not shaved, and I love the one day stubble on him. He’s hasn’t got a full suit on, just charcoal grey trousers and a black shirt. I might change my mind about lunch so he is forced to give me a reminder fuck.

I watch him gather the butter, knives and plates and place everything in front of me on the island. Then he goes back to the fridge, returning to sit next to me with a jar of peanut butter. I look at him in disbelief as he unscrews the lid and dunks his finger in.

He wraps his lips around his coated finger and looks at me with it half hanging out of his luscious mouth. ‘What?’ he mumbles.

‘You’re giving me a hard time about a well-balanced breakfast?’ I flick my gaze to the jar in his hand.

He swallows. ‘Nuts are very healthy. And anyway, you’re more important than me.’

I shake my head and start spreading butter on my toast as he watches me. ‘You’re important to me.’ I grumble to my toast. I look up at him as I wrap my teeth around the corner.

He smiles. ‘I’m glad. So, what’s in your diary today?’ he asks nonchalantly as he dips his finger again.

I choke on my toast and he frowns. Is he serious? I’m not telling him!

‘What’s so shocking about wanting to know what you’re going to be doing?’ he pouts.

I swallow my toast. ‘Oh, nothing,’ I chew a bit more, ‘if I thought you were genuinely interested and not planning a trampling mission.’ My voice is dripping with sarcasm.

‘I am genuinely interested.’ He looks hurt.

I’m not falling for it. ‘I’ll meet you at Baroque at one. I’ve still got to ring Kate and advise her that you’re gatecrashing our ladies’ lunch.’

‘She won’t mind. She loves me.’ he says confidently.

‘That is because you bought her Margo Junior.’ I remind him.

‘No, it is because she told me so.’ He’s so smug.

‘When?’

‘When we were out,’ He pushes my hair from my face. ‘The night I showed you how to dance. The night you got completely k-lined.’

‘K-lined?’ I ask around my toast.

‘Drunk.’ he mouths.

I scoff. ‘Kate must have been drunk too.’ She wasn’t as drunk as me, but that would be difficult. She was well on her way, though – not that it would matter. Kate wouldn’t tell anyone she liked them if she didn’t, and she certainly wouldn’t say she loves them, even if it is a term of endearment.

‘Not just then.’ He scoops his finger in the jar and thrusts it under my nose. I screw my face up and he smirks before licking it off himself.

‘When then?’ I ask casually, taking another bite of my toast. He’s doing this on purpose.

‘At The Manor.’ He tosses it in the air like it’s the most natural thing in the world for Kate to be at The Manor.

My jaw hits the marble counter. I remember Kate went to The Manor on Saturday night and I remember Jesse being called away late Saturday night. It must have been then. She didn’t go into details when I asked her. Fun is what she had said and she didn’t elaborate further. I definitely wasn’t going to push it after her contemptuous reaction to my questioning.

‘What was she doing at The Manor?’ I try to sound casual, but by the look on his face, I’ve failed.

He smiles. ‘That is none of our business.’ He jumps up from the stool and chucks his empty jar in the bin. ‘I’ve got to scram.’

‘Scram?’

‘Like, skedaddle…go…leave.’ He winks at me, and I pool on the stool in a soppy mess. He’s in a good mood this morning, all roguish and playful. I love him. Easygoing Jesse is becoming a more regular visitor these days.

‘I’ve decided that maybe lunch isn’t such a good idea. I don’t want Kate to think we’re joined at the hip.’ I turn away from him and carry on eating my toast in the most blasé manner I can muster. It’s hard when my man is bristling and snarling behind me.

He grabs me, and I squeal as he flips my around and walks me to the wall, pinning me under his delicious body with my toast still in my hand. His eyes are uncertain and I almost feel guilty… almost.

I know what’s coming.

I fight to conceal the grin that’s tickling the corners of my mouth as he bends, leans into me and rolls his hips up so I get a full on stroke at my core. I moan in pure, sneaky satisfaction.

‘You didn’t mean that.’ he says, sliding his hand over my stomach, down towards the apex of my thighs.

‘I did.’ I challenge, and then jerk as his thumb slips over my sensitive flesh. Oh God, I will never get enough of him.

‘Someone is going to be quick.’ he muses, as he continues to ride me with his hand. I sigh, savouring his talented touch working me. ‘Don’t play games with me, Ava.’ He withdraws his hand and steps back from me.

WHAT!

I want to yank him back and shove his hand down below. What the hell is he playing at? I look at him, all what-the-hell, and he smirks at me.

‘I’m already late because I wanted to make sure you ate. If I knew you were going to play games with me, I would have fucked you first and feed you after.’ He steps in and makes a point of grinding his ever loving hips against me, moaning in my ear. ‘One o’clock.’ he whispers, before he bites into my suspended toast and pulls away. ‘I love you, lady.’ He looks at me with utter smugness.

‘You don’t.’ I snap. ‘If you did, you wouldn’t abandon me halfway to orgasm.’

‘Hey!’ he yells. He looks pissed. ‘Don’t ever question whether I love you. It’ll make me mad.’

I try and plaster an apologetic look on my face, but in my unexploded state, I’m struggling to convince my brain to do anything other than yank him back into me and make him sort me out. He’s turned on, I can see. How is he walking away?

‘Have a nice day.’ His eyes soften as he leans down and rests his lips on my cheek. ‘I’m going to miss you like crazy, baby.’

Oh, I know he will. But it’s only six hours until our lunch date. He’ll live.

Once I’m ready, I make my way down, clinking on my heels through the foyer as I delve through my bag for my sunglasses.

‘Morning, Ava.’ I hear Clive call to my back.

‘Morning,’ I slip my shades on and emerge into the sunshine, coming to an abrupt halt when I spot John leaning against his Range Rover.

Really?

He lifts his glasses up and shrugs his big shoulders at me. Oh good, he thinks this is stupid too, but I need my car today so I can collect my stuff from Matt’s after work.

I walk over. ‘John, I can drive to work.’ I say on a tired tone.

‘I don’t think you can, girl.’ he rumbles. What’s he talking about?  ‘Your car’s being valeted.’ He shrugs again and slides behind the wheel. I swing around and see an army of men cleaning my car.

Oh, for God’s sake. I drag my keys from my bag and find my car key missing. Later, I will be explaining to Mr Control Freak that snooping through a woman’s handbag – and phone, come to think of it – is bloody rude. Why didn’t he consult me on this? This is bad news. I could ring Kate. She’ll take me. I dial her.

‘Yo!’ She’s chirpy.

‘Hey, can you take me to Matt’s after work to get my stuff?’ I spit my request out as fast as I can.

‘Sure.’

‘Great, see you for lunch. Oh, by the way, Jesse is coming.’ I hang up and jump in next to John. He is wearing his usual ensemble of black suit and black shirt. How many black suits can one man have?

‘Do you think he’s unreasonable and challenging?’ I ask casually, flipping the visor down to put some lip gloss on.

‘Yes, girl,’ he rumbles. ‘But, like I said, only with you.’

I drop my hand into my lap and look over at John, who is tapping the steering wheel as usual. ‘So, he doesn’t behave like a madcap at work then?’

‘Nope.’

I frown. ‘He’s easygoing?’

‘Yep,’

I sigh heavily, just so John knows that I want more than that. ‘Why?’

He looks at me, dazzling me with his white teeth, and I catch a glimpse of the illusive gold one. ‘Girl, don’t be too harsh on the crazy mother fucker. He’s never cared before you.’

I sit back in my seat and listen to John commence humming to match his taps. Jesse can’t have never cared for anything. He’s thirty seven.

‘How old is he?’ I ask on a smile, earning myself another dazzler from John.

‘He’s thirty seven. But you know that now, don’t you, girl?’

Oh no!

I die a thousand deaths on the spot and turn a thousand shades of red. I forgot Jesse had to be rescued. I bet John got a right eyeful. I start laughing to myself when I think of what John must have walked in on – a bedroom, with one naked God handcuffed to the bed, a diamante embellished vibrator, my new black lace underwear sprawled on the floor and the aforementioned naked God making holes in the wall with said vibrator. I bet John thought it was hilarious and Jesse obviously explained how and why he ended up handcuffed to the bed.

I’m beyond embarrassed.

We make the rest of the journey in silence, except for John’s humming. I can’t look at him. He drops me off at Berkeley Square and I run to my office to escape my discomfort, giving him a quick wave over my shoulder. How am I ever going to face him again?

I wander to my desk and see Sally at the filing cabinet. She looks suicidal. The high neck, polyester blouse is back and the fire cracker nail polish has disappeared. It is definitely as I expected. Men are such wankers. I elect not to mention it, she won’t appreciate it.

‘Morning, Sally.’ I try not to sound too upbeat. She lifts a heavy head and offers a small smile before returning to her filing. I feel bad for her. ‘Where is everyone?’ I ask. She shrugs. Oh, this is bad, so I resign myself to shutting up and getting on with things.

My morning is very productive. I finalise a few accounts and update myself on all of my live clients. At twelve forty five, I leave for lunch.

I enter the bar and spot Kate at our usual table. She scowls at me as I approach. ‘Your telephone etiquette needs some work.’ she snipes.

I had been rather abrupt this morning, but I was too busy dealing with my challenging man to worry about telephone manners. ‘I’m sorry.’ I sit down and come face to face with a big glass of wine. ‘Fuck! Kate, get rid of it!’ I shove it to her side of the table.