This Man (33 page)

‘No!’ I shout, steaming past him into the kitchen. I need that drink! I hear him follow me, watching as I chuck my phone on the worktop and yank the bottle of wine up.

‘You’re a complete bastard!’ I yell, pouring my wine with shaky hands. I’m boiling mad. I swing around and fire him my most evil look. He actually winces slightly, which fills me with immense satisfaction. ‘You’ve got what you wanted.

So have I. Let’s not fuck about.’ I spit. I haven’t got what I wanted, not in the least bit, but I ignore the voice in my head screaming that at me. I need to stop this before I get dragged any further into the intensity that is Jesse Ward.

‘Watch your fucking mouth!’ he shouts.

‘What are you talking about? I haven’t got what I wanted.’

‘You want more?’ I quickly swig my wine. ‘Well, I don’t, so stop hounding me, Jesse. And stop shouting at me!’ I go for brutality, but I fear I probably sound pretty pathetic in my attempt. Something’s got to work. I take another huge gulp of my wine, jumping when it’s swiped from my hand and tossed in the sink. I wince at the shattering of glass that cracks through the air.

‘You don’t have to drink like a fucking fifteen year old.’ he yells.

My fists ball at my sides as I use all of my willpower to calm myself down. ‘Get out!’ I scream. My attempts are failing miserably.

I’m

becoming

frantic

–

desperate.

I shrink when he roars in frustration, throwing his fist into the kitchen door, leaving a huge dent in the wood.

Oh, shit!
I stand there, eyes bulging and lips sealed firmly shut as I watch his fierce reaction to my rejection. He turns to face me, shaking his hand a little, and looks me square in the eyes, his sludgy stare attacking me.

Fuck me, that’s gotta hurt. I’m about to go to the freezer to get some ice, but he starts to stalk towards me. I brace my hands behind me on the edge of the worktop and watch him gain on me until we are front to front. He leans forward, placing his hands over mine, effectively trapping me.

Breathing heavily in my face, he scowls at me, and then smashes his lips onto my mouth. My breath is literally sucked out of me as I writher under him, trying to free myself. What’s he doing? Actually, I know exactly what he’s doing. He’s going to hit me with a reminder fuck. I’m so screwed.

He pushes his lips harder against mine, but I don’t accept his kiss. I keep telling myself that this is bad, so bloody wrong.

I’m going to hurt even more if I accept this, I know I will. I half-heartedly try to free myself, but he growls low in his throat, his hands tightening on mine. I’m not going anywhere. My desperate attempts to halt this are being seriously hindered by his sheer determination to break me down.

His tongue skims my bottom lip as I continue to deny him access, shuddering in an attempt to fight off the reactions he’s drawing from me. I know if he gains entry, it will be game over, so I stubbornly keep my lips locked shut while mentally pleading for him to give up.

When he releases one of my hands, I instantly grab his bicep to push him away, but it’s no good. He’s a powerhouse of a man and a determined one at that. He’s not affected in the slightest by my meager attempts to free myself.

He grabs my hip tightly and I jerk under him, but I’m pressed back into the worktop. I’m completely trapped, but I still defiantly reject his kiss, keeping my lips shut tight. I turn my head away when he eases up a bit.

‘Stubborn woman.’ he mutters, pressing his lips against my neck, licking and nibbling his way down to the hollow, circling long, wet strokes before working his way up to my ear and biting at my lobe.

I squeeze my eyes shut, pleading with my self-control to resist his irresistible touch. My fingernails are digging into his tense upper arm and my lips are locked shut for fear of letting out a cry of pleasure.

His hand leaves my hip and moves slowly across

my

stomach,

skimming

the

waistband of my shorts.

‘Please. Please, stop.’ I cry.

‘You stop, Ava. Just stop.’ Slipping his index finger under the material, he traces left to right, in slow, soft, measured strokes while continuing the invasion of his lips on my ear and neck. I could cry with frustration.

The warm friction buckles my knees, sending violent quivers over my entire body. I hear him laugh lightly, deep at the back of his throat, sending vibrations down my spine and a slow steady beat to my core. I clamp my thighs together, moving my hand from his arm to his chest and pushing in total vain. I don’t even know why I’m bothering now. I’m a heartbeat away from surrendering to him. He’s persistently pursuing me in lust, and I’ve fallen hard for him – really hard. My head feels like it could explode, and I’m not sure if it’ll be in pleasure or confusion. I’m so bloody confused.

When his lips reach mine again, I still resist, trying my hardest to block it all out.

My poor brain is being thrown a million different commands – fight him; resist him; accept him; kiss him; knee him in the bollocks.

And then his hand is delving into my knickers, his fingers separating me, causing electricity to spark violently through me.

He brushes over my clitoris, so very gently. I jerk, my mouth opens and I let out a cry of pleasure. He takes full advantage of my lapse in willpower, thrusting his tongue into my mouth, exploring and lapping every corner, his thumb slowly circling my burning core. I kiss him back.

‘Let my hand go.’ I pant, flexing the muscles in my arm.

He must know that he’s got me because my hand is released on a moan and he’s griping the nape of my neck immediately. I throw my arms around his neck to pull him closer to me – just like that.

His hips thrust against his hand, increasing the pressure of his assault on my core and his fingers enter me. My muscles grip him hard. I moan.

He pulls away from me, gasping and heaving, looking at me through his hooded, glazed eyes. ‘I thought so.’ he says, his husky tone pushing my building orgasm higher.

He crashes his lips back on mine, and I accept it - all of it. Once again, I’m a slave to this beautiful, neurotic man. My willpower

has

diminished

and

my

weaknesses have been weakened.

I run my hands across his suited back, my fingers delving into his dirty blonde hair as he continues his excruciatingly slow, controlled drives with his fingers. I could cry with pleasure and frustration, but how can I resist this? I’ll never escape him.

Now that I’ve stopped fighting him, his tongue is working my mouth at a calmer, steadier rate. The hotness of our combined mouths feels natural and absolute. My thighs tighten with the building climax threatening to attack me from every direction, and my grip of his hair increases. He gets the message, hardening his kiss, the strokes of his fingers and thumb becoming firmer as I’m bulldozed by pleasure and rocketed skyward. My mind goes blank, except for the bliss of release riding through me. I bite his lip. He groans.
Holy fucking shit!

His strokes ease up, and I release his lip from my clenched teeth. I think I can taste blood, but my eyes won’t open to confirm it. It would serve him right.

‘Remember yet?’ he whispers softly against my lips. I sigh, pulling my heavy eyes open to meet his green gaze. I don’t answer him; he knows the answer to that question. But as always, I never forgot. He doesn’t demand an answer. He just leans down, dropping a gentle kiss on my mouth, my tongue sweeping across his bottom lip, licking away the small drop of blood that I’ve drawn.

‘I’ve made you bleed.’

‘Savage.’ he breathes, pulling his fingers slowly out of me and sliding them into my mouth. He watches me closely as I run my tongue over them, a small smile playing at the corner of his mouth. He’s got want he wants again – me, surrendering to him.

I’m lifted onto the worktop. ‘Why do you keep running away from me?’ His eyes search mine as he rests his hands on either side of my thighs, bending his body, leaning in.

I drop my head. I can’t look at him.

What can I tell him? That I’ve fallen in love with him? Perhaps I should – he might freak out and leave me alone. I shrug instead.

He places his index finger under my chin and tips my head back up so I’m forced to confront his achingly handsome face.

He raises his eyebrows at me expectantly. ‘Talk to me, baby.’

‘I don’t know.’

He rolls his eyes and slaps my hand away from the piece of hair I’m coiling around my finger. ‘You’re a shit liar, Ava.’

‘I know.’ I huff. I’ve got to sort that bad habit out quickly.

‘Tell me, now.’ he demands softly.

I sigh. ‘You’re distracting me. I don’t want to get hurt.’ There, I’m not lying.

That’s true. I just left out the minor, major detail of my feelings for him.

I look at him as he chews his bottom lip, the cogs of his mind going into overdrive.

He doesn’t know what to say to that. I’m so glad I didn’t hit him with the love bomb.

‘I see.’ he says flatly. Is that it? I see?

‘I’m a distraction?’ he asks.

‘Yes.’ I scowl.
The worst kind!

He pouts. ‘I like distracting you.’

‘I like you distracting me too.’ I mumble sulkily. I notice he ignores the hurt comment, homing straight in on the distraction tactics.

‘What am I distracting you from?’

‘Being sensible,’ I reply quietly. The intoxicating affect he has on my body is setting deeper into my mindset. He said he would make me need him, and he’s keeping true to his word.

He smiles, completely satisfied, his eyes dark and promising again. ‘I’m going to distract you some more now. We need to make friends.’ His low voice is sparking off my desire for him all over again as he grabs me under my bum and slides me off of the worktop to straddle his waist.

‘Didn’t we just make friends?’

‘Not properly. We need to make friends properly. It’s the sensible thing to do. We don’t run anymore, Ava.’

I smile and wrap my arms around his back as he walks us out of the kitchen, into my bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him. He places me on the end of the bed, pulling my vest up over my head, my bra-free breasts springing free. He smiles, looking down into my eyes and tossing my vest on the floor. He starts pulling at the waist band of my shorts, encouraging me to lift my bum so he can draw them down my legs, taking my knickers with them.

‘Stay there.’ he orders, reaching up and pulling at his tie. Sparks of anticipation ricochet all around my body as I watch him slowly undress in front of me. His jacket follows his tie, then he slowly unbuttons his shirt.

Hurry up!
The flex of his ripped chest has me virtually dribbling as he stands before me, taking painfully long to undress.

My eyes are automatically drawn to the sight of his scar. I’m desperate to know where it came from.

‘Look at me, Ava.’

My eyes fly straight to his, those sludgy pools of green watching me carefully as he removes his shoes, socks and trousers, before finally dragging his boxers down his legs. His erection springs free. It’s at eye level to me. If I reach forward and open my mouth, I’ll have the upper hand.

That would make a nice change. I glance up at him, catching a wicked grin and blazing eyes.

‘I’m desperate to be inside you after looking for you for the last two days,’ he says darkly. ‘I’ll look forward to fucking your mouth later. You owe me.’

A powerful thud crashes into my core as he leans down and curls his arm around my waist before crawling up the bed above me and placing me down gently beneath him.

My thighs are spread by his knee, and he cradles himself between them, resting his forearms on either side of my head as he looks down at me with soft eyes. I could weep.

Any plans I had of walking away before it’s too late are totally obliterated. It’s already too late, and his determination to have me, as and when he pleases, is not doing me any favours.

‘You won’t run away from me again.’ he says softly but firmly.

I know I have to answer this. I shake my head and reach up to his shoulders.

‘You need to answer me, Ava.’ he whispers. I feel the broad head of his erection pushing at my entrance, causing a ridiculous amount of heat to plague me.

‘I won’t.’ I confirm.

He nods, holding my gaze as he slowly draws back and drives forward, plunging deeply into me. I moan and adjust my grip on his shoulders, shifting under him. The fullness is incredible, and I’ve fast become use to him. He blows out a long controlled breath of air. The concentration frown flickering across his brow is shiny with sweat and heavy on his forehead.

I resist the urge to contract around him –

he needs a moment. His eyes close, his long lashes fanning, his head dropped to mine as he battles to compose his erratic breathing. I wait patiently for him to sort himself out, running my hands up and down his firm upper arms, more than happy to lay here looking at this beautiful, neurotic man so closely. He knows I need gentle Jesse right now.

After a few moments, he gathers himself together and lifts his head back up to look at me. My heart constricts in my chest. I’m so in love with this man.

‘This is what happens when you deny me. Don’t do it again.’ He lifts his upper body to brace his arms, then lazily drags back and gradually drives forward.

I purr. Oh, good God. He repeats the delectable move, over and over, watching me the entire time.

‘You need to think about this, Ava.

When you’re tempted to run again, think about how you feel right now. Think about me.’

‘Yes.’ I breathe, struggling to dampen down a fast buildup of pressure. I want to carry on like this forever. I want to feel like this forever. This is exactly why I’ve been avoiding him. I’m weak and feeble in my attempts to brush him off. Or is he just determined? Well, either way, I always end up at square one again…giving myself to this man.

I rock my hips up to meet his every thrust, and he lowers his mouth to mine, taking my lips leisurely and lazily, matching his blazing hip rhythm with his tongue.

I whimper, digging my nails into his arms. I’ve got to stop marking him and drawing blood. The poor man is mistreated almost every time. He drives slowly forward, circles deeply and withdraws lazily, time and time again. I can’t hold out for much longer. How does he do this to me?