Beneath This Man (This Man Trilogy)(42)

‘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.

She gives me daggers. ‘I thought you might need it.’

Yes, I really do, but Jesse will be here soon and what would it look like if I’m sat here slurping wine? That would be cruel and extremely thoughtless. I make a grab for Kate’s glass and she throws herself on it.