This Man Confessed(154)
“No, you’re going to see big, wide, disturbed ones,” I whisper. “Open your eyes.”
He does. He reveals his greens on a furrowed brow and looks over my shoulder when I cock my head. “Oh. Morning, Cathy.”
“You two love birds need to buy some pajamas.” Cathy’s amused tone makes me cringe further. “Or at least keep your underwear on. I’ll be in the kitchen preparing breakfast.”
I hear her scurrying footsteps leaving our naked display, and I exhale in despair, dropping my head back onto his chest. He’s chuckling. “Morning, baby.” He shifts his legs so they spread and my body falls between them. “Let me see your face.”
“No.” I push it farther into his neck, like my embarrassment might disappear if I hide for long enough.
“She’s all bashful.” He’s grinning. “Shall we get you upstairs?”
“Yes,” I grumble, knowing full well that time must be knocking on with Cathy’s presence, not that I care. It’s like I’m trying to get myself sacked so I don’t have to give Jesse the satisfaction of quitting because he demanded it.
I sit up cautiously and check for Cathy’s whereabouts, then laugh loudly when Jesse sits up, too, popping his head over the back of the couch to check. He looks at me, eyebrows raised, slightly bemused by my little outburst. “What’s tickled you?”
“You look like a meerkat!” I giggle, falling back and completely exposing myself. Through my uncontrollable fit of chuckles, I reach up to arrange my bra over my chest, because that’s really going to save my modesty when I’m knickerless. “Wind your neck in!” I laugh.
He snorts a mixture of amusement and umbrage at his hysterical wife and gently pushes my body away to free his legs before standing and taking hold of my shaking body. I’m tossed up onto his shoulder, still laughing and now with the glorious view of his solid arse as he strides toward the stairs. “Where I’m from, that means something entirely different.” He slaps my arse. “It is you who needs to be doing the winding.”
“I know what it means. I was being ironic.” I run my palms over his back. “And there will be no winding of necks here.”
“A man can live in hope.” He takes the stairs two at a time, but I don’t jump and jolt all over his shoulder and he doesn’t puff or pant. No, he flies up the back-lit onyx staircase like some sort of freakishly fit paratrooper. “There.” He places me on my feet and turns the shower on. “In you get.”
“I hope you’re going to lock your office door now,” I say as a mental image of Cathy’s sweet, innocent face turning to horror pops into my mind’s eye.
He laughs. “Only for our eyes, baby. I have a key and I’ve hidden one among the piles of lace in your underwear drawer. Okay?”
“Okay,” I agree. I’m really late already, but that doesn’t stop me from stepping forward and grasping his morning erection. He flinches, and I smirk as I circle my thumb slowly over the broad head, keeping my eyes on the throbbing rod of flesh.
“Ava,” he warns weakly, stepping back, but that just means he gets a full-on stroke of my hand down the length. He hisses and his palms lift to cover his face. I’ve got him. He rubs his cheeks in a gesture that suggests it might restore some control. “If I don’t take you now, my cock is going to be aching all day long.”
“Take me,” I say quietly, remembering the words so well. I step forward to close the gap he’s made, and his palms come down, his face full of recognition.
“Oh, I will,” he replies, picking me up and placing me on the vanity unit. “You can’t escape now.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Good.” He leans in and kisses me sweetly. “I like your dress.”
“I’m not wearing one, so we can’t lose it.”
He smiles around my lips, and I open my eyes, finding bright green pools of sincere happiness. “Fond memories?”
“Very. Can you pin me against the wall now?” I’ve always found him irresistible, but this incessant need to constantly have him is taking my life over. I’m late for work, I couldn’t give a shit, and I know he won’t either. His smile broadens and his face slowly starts drifting toward mine again, his eyes holding mine. His lips part. My lips part. He’s making me be patient. I’m struggling.
On the launch night of Lusso, it was a jangling of the door handle that whipped our heads to the side in shock. This time it’s Cathy’s distressed shouting. My back straightens, and I’m snapped right out of my wanton condition.