Beneath This Man (This Man Trilogy)(99)

‘There have been no other women in my life!’ he argues through my hand.

I push it harder to his lips. ‘But I need to know something.’

His eyebrows rise. He can’t answer because my hand is too tight on his lips.

‘You want to keep me as far away from the women of The Manor, but what about the sex?’ I can feel him grinning against my palm. He finds this a funny question? I take my hand away from his mouth. Yes, he’s grinning that roguish grin. It’s a lovely sight, even if I’m not happy about his amusement at my question. He goes out of his way to dress me suitably, according to him, makes me wear lace – that request is suddenly very obvious – and he doesn’t want me to drink.

Oh God!

The reason for that has just landed with an enormous smack in my brain. ‘You don’t like me drinking because you think I’m going to do what you used to do when you were drunk. You think I’m going to want to fuck everything in sight!’ I practically screech the words at him and his grin soon disappears. I’ve not even given him a chance to answer my previous question and I’m lobbing him another. Well not a question; more of a conclusion.

‘Will you stop fucking swearing?’ He rolls onto his back, without so much as a hiss or spit of pain.

Oh no. I scramble up, ignoring my own pain, and straddle him. ‘It is, isn’t it? That’s the reason.’

I watch as he absorbs my words. He can’t possibly argue with it, I know I’ve got him here. He takes a deep breath and opens his mouth to talk, but nothing comes out. He takes another but still, nothing comes out. He does this three times before he eventually speaks. ‘It’s not just that, Ava. You’re vulnerable when you’re drunk.’

‘But it is part of the reason, isn’t it?’ I know the other part is men assuming I’m fair game. He already admitted that.

‘Yes, I guess so.’ he admits.

‘Okay, what about the sex?’ This I really need to know. He wants to make me the opposite of all things Manor-ish, yet he fucks me stupid.

The grin is back. ‘I already told you this. I can’t get close enough to you.’

‘Sleepy sex achieves that.’ I scoff. I’m not going to push this too far. I love dominant Jesse.

‘Yes, it does, but we have an incredible chemistry. I’ve never felt it before.’

My heart gallops in my chest and for the first time in nearly a day, it’s with happiness. He’s never felt it before? But he’s slept with dozens of women, or is it hundreds? My smile disappears instantly. ‘What feelings?’

His hands rest on my thighs. ‘It’s pure bliss, baby. Total gratification. Absolute, complete earth shifting, universe shaking love.’

My smiles back. ‘Yeah?’

‘Oh yeah. Complete heaven.’

I fall forward onto his chest. ‘Ouch!’

‘Careful,’ He pushes me back up. ‘Does it hurt bad?’ A flash of anger flies through his eyes as he waits for my answer, and I pray that John has sent Steve packing before Jesse gets hold of him. I still can’t believe he’s a Policeman.

‘It’s fine.’ I shift. ‘What am I going to do about work?’ I ask. Where has this weekend gone? I inwardly laugh. It’s gone on lavish shopping trips, lavish food, lavish jewellery, lavish lace dresses, a lavish party, a peculiar marriage proposal, lots of incredible sex, date rape, whippings…I groan. It’s been one hell of a weekend.

‘Unravel your knickers. I’ve spoken to Patrick.’ Jesse sits up and shifts us to the edge of the bed.

He has? ‘Is there anyone in my life who you haven’t trampled?’ I ask dryly.

He stands and places me on my feet, his wonderful nakedness right in front of me. ‘Don’t be cheeky.’ He warns with total seriousness. ‘There are no whip marks on your arse, lady. Anyway, why does our home look like it’s been ransacked by burglars?’

Oh, I forgot about that. How could I. ‘I was looking for something.’

He frowns. ‘What?’ he asks, but I detect a hint of cautiousness.

I study him, assessing his expression and his body language. I can’t fathom it at all. ‘Nothing.’

He turns me away from him and starts walking me to the bathroom with one hand on my elbow and another cupping my bum. His lack of curiosity as to what I was looking for has only heightened my suspicions. He would never usually accept such a vague answer to one of his questions.

‘What did you tell Patrick?’ I ask as he lifts me onto the vanity unit.

‘I told him that you passed out on Saturday and put your back out.’

Oh? Good thinking. ‘Did he not think it strange that you called him?’

‘I don’t know and I don’t really care.’ He starts drawing a bath and comes back over to me. ‘Look what you’ve done to your beautiful body.’ he says quietly, gazing over my shoulder to my bare back in the reflection of the mirror. ‘I won’t be taking you on your back for a while.’

A wave of disappointment travels through me as I glance over my shoulder. ‘Is that it?’ I blurt incredulously. I feel like I’ve been skinned alive and all I’ve got to show for my torture are a few long, red welts and one with a sliver of dried blood.

‘What do you mean, is that it?’ He sounds angry.

I drag my eyes away from my pitiful wounds on a scowl and look at Jesse, who is displaying a similar expression to mine, but probably fiercer. I grab his hips. ‘Turn around.’ I order as I push him to guide his reluctant, lean body away from me. His back comes into view and I gasp. Now that’s what I’m talking about. He has double the amount of lash marks, more blood and generally more to show for the shitty day we had yesterday. ‘See, yours are better than mine.’

What am I saying?

He flies back around and I just about manage to release his waist before I’m dragged off the unit and onto the floor. He pins me with an incensed stare and grabs the tops of my arms, shaking me slightly. ‘Shut up, Ava!’

‘Sorry!’ The word flies out my mouth without much prompt. Why am I talking such rubbish? ‘It just hurts so much. I thought it would look a lot worse than that.’

‘It’s fucking bad enough!’ He drops me and returns to the bath, pouring in some lavender oil and swishing the water with his hand.

That really was a stupid thing to say. I deserved that. ‘I said, I’m sorry.’ I grumble, but he ignores me.

I cock my head to the side and admire his firm nakedness as I swing my legs and roll my shoulders in an attempt to work some flex back into them. I need to relax. I can feel my muscles knotting across my shoulders. I sit patiently on the vanity unit while Jesse goes about getting towels and the shampoo and conditioner, setting them on the side of the bath before collecting up the mess I’ve made. He does it all in complete silence, not looking at me once. He knows what I’ve been looking for.

‘Off .’ He offers his hand and an expectant face, but I decline and slide off the unit with care, removing my knickers and taking myself to the bath. I step in and gingerly lower myself into the stinging water. I ignore the grunt of disapproval that Jesse fires off at my rejection. I’m too busy clenching my teeth and concentrating on getting myself under the water which soon starts soothing rather than stabbing at my back. I lay back and close my eyes on an appreciative sigh.

I can feel him watching me. I open one eye and I’m met by two eyebrows kissing his hairline as he jerks his head in a move gesture. I make a point of demonstrating the inconvenience he’s causing me by taking my time and huffing a lot as I shift forward in the bath to make room for him. I don’t know why I’m being insolent. Well, I do. I’m pissed that my war wounds are pitiful compared to Jesse’s and I’m the one wincing, hissing and generally behaving like I’ve been stoned whilst naked.

He climbs in and sinks down behind me, without so much as a huff of discomfort as the water coats his back. He clasps his hands over my shoulders and gently tugs, easing me back against him. ‘Don’t fight me.’ He bites my ear, and I squirm. His legs bend up and he wraps his arms around my neck so I’m completely swathed in him.

Right then. Now for the tub talk.

I rest my head back against his shoulder and relish his morning stubble grazing the side of my face. ‘So, Steve is out on his arse?’ I ask coolly.

‘Gone.’

‘No questions asked?’

‘Not one, except whether he would prefer burial or cremation.’ he says sardonically, and I believe him. His answer, although brutal and a tad over-the-top, is just the response I was hoping for. ‘Am I hurting you?’ he asks.

‘No, I’m fine.’ I assure him. He squeezes a little harder, but our slippery bodies are preventing the drag of skin. ‘So, does the same apply to Sarah?’

BOOM!

He pauses mid-nuzzle, and I continue my slow, feathery circles of his thighs with my index fingers, as if I haven’t just said that. What’s good for the goose and all that, plus, Steve has no sexual interest in me. Sarah, quite clearly, has an active interest in Jesse and as my thick skinned man seems to be oblivious to her romantic pursuit, it’s down to me to instigate damage control.