This Man (43 page)

because

of

the

luxurious

accommodation and surroundings.

‘Good evening.’ Jesse nods as we pass swiftly.

A chorus of greetings flood my ears, all of the men acknowledging me with a smile or a nod, but all of the women throwing suspicious glares. I feel like public enemy number one. What’s their problem?

‘Jesse,’ I hear Big John’s low rumble up ahead. I drag my eyes from the crowd of angry women, giving me the once over, to find John coming out of Jesse’s office. He nods at me, and I find myself nodding back.

What role does he play here? He looks like the mafia personified.

‘Any problems?’ Jesse asks, leading me into his office.

John follows and shuts the door behind him. ‘Small issue in the communal room, now resolved.’ His deep voice is monotone. ‘Someone got a bit excited.’

I frown, looking at Jesse. What’s a communal room? I see Jesse mildly shake his head at John before flicking cautious eyes to me.

‘S’all good, I’ll be in the surveillance suite.’ He turns and leaves.

‘What’s a communal room?’ I can’t keep the interest from my tone. I’ve never heard of such a thing.

He yanks me towards him by the collar of my leather jacket and removes my bag, taking my mouth possessively, completely distracting me from my question. ‘I like you in leather,’ he muses as he unzips the jacket, pushing it down my arms slowly and chucking it on the sofa. ‘But I
love
you in lace.’ He undoes the zipper of the leather trousers as he circles my nose with his. ‘Always in lace,’

I watch his hands work the fastener, my pulse quickening. ‘I thought you have work to do.’ I whisper.

He picks me up, walks me over to his big desk and places me on the edge. Both boots are removed and tossed on the sofa before he bends down, braces his hands on the edge and leans forward so our faces are close.

His green pools of lust are penetrating me. ‘It can wait.’ He snakes his arm around my waist and lowers me to the desk surface. ‘You drive me crazy, lady.’ he says, reaching down and unbuttoning my white shirt as he stands between my open thighs.

‘You drive
me
crazy.’ I breathe, arching my back when his hot touch skims my breast bone.

He smiles darkly at me. ‘So, we’re made for each other.’ He yanks the cups of my bra down, running his thumbs over my nipples, sparking endless shots of pleasure throughout me.

Our eyes connect and lock. ‘Probably,’ I agree. I really want to be made for him.

‘Oh, there’s no probably about it.’ He hooks his forearm under my waist and pulls me up from the desk, resting his mouth on my throat. Circling his tongue, he works his way up my jaw bone. I lace my fingers through his soft hair and exhale a contented lung full of air. Perfect. We’re making friends.

The office door flies open, and Jesse yanks me into his chest protectively, and probably to conceal me too.

‘Oh, sorry.’

‘For fucks sake, Sarah! Knock!’ he yells. I’m secretly delighted at the tone he’s taken with her. I might be half naked and sprawled across his desk, but Jesse is concealing me just fine. He doesn’t let me go as he shifts slightly so he can land Sarah with a filthy look. I catch a glimpse of her in the doorway. She’s wearing a red dress to match her lips, her sour face as plain as the obvious boob job.

‘Finally got her in leather then?’ she says on a sly smile, turning on her heels and leaving. The door shuts with a loud bang, and Jesse rolls his eyes in frustration. I don’t think I’ve ever disliked someone so much.

‘What did she mean?’ I ask, feeling like I’m the butt of a private joke.

‘Nothing, ignore her. She’s trying to be funny.’ he grumbles. His mood has changed dramatically.

Well, I don’t find her remotely funny, but his short, abrupt answer makes me think twice about pushing it. Damn, I want him to finish what he started.

I’m lifted from the desk and placed me on my feet. Pulling the cups of my bra back over my breasts, he starts to button up my shirt and peel the leathers down my legs.

I’m going to look like a crumpled mess. He fetches my bag from the floor, putting my pumps at my feet for me to step into. I start tucking my shirt in, trying to make myself more presentable, and watch as Jesse takes a seat in his huge, brown leather, swivel chair. He’s gone quiet. Resting his elbows on the arms and letting his fingertips meet in front of his lips, he watches me thoughtfully as I finish sorting myself out.

‘What?’ I ask. He looks deep in thought.

What’s he thinking about?

‘Nothing. Are you hungry?’

I shrug. ‘-ish,’

A smile tickles the corner of his mouth.

‘-ish.’ he counters. ‘The steak’s good. Do you want that?’ I nod. Yes, I could eat a little steak. He picks up his office phone and dials a few numbers. ‘Ava would like the steak,’ He puts the phone to his shoulder. ‘How do you like your steak?’

‘Medium, please,’

He returns to the phone. ‘Medium, with new potatoes and a salad.’ He looks at me with raised eyebrows. I nod again. ‘In my office…and bring some wine…Zinfandel.

That’s all…yes…thank you.’ He hangs up and dials again. ‘John…yes…I’m ready when you are.’ He hangs up before picking up again. ‘Sarah…fine, don’t worry. Bring me the latest attendance figures.’ He puts the phone down again. ‘Sit.’ He points at the sofa in the window.

Okay, I’m getting that uncomfortable feeling again, my small appetite fading fast. Damn it, I hate coming here. ‘I can go if you’re busy.’

He frowns, throwing me a questioning look. ‘No, sit.’

I take myself over to the sofa to settle myself in the soft, brown leather. I feel like a spare part, uncomfortable and awkward.

With little else to do, I watch as Jesse flicks through various piles of paperwork, signing here and there. He’s completely engrossed in what he’s doing. He glances up every now and then, lobbing me a reassuring smile, but it does little to ease my discomfort. I want to go.

After twenty minutes, or so, of twiddling my thumbs and wishing he would hurry up, the door knocks and Jesse calls an okay for whoever it is to enter. Pete walks in with a tray and follows Jesse’s pointed pen over to me.

‘Thank you, Pete.’ I smile as Pete places the tray down in front of me and hands me some cutlery wrapped in a white, material napkin.

‘My pleasure, can I open your wine?’

‘No,’ I shake my head. ‘I’ve got it.’

He nods before leaving the room quietly.

I remove the lid from the plate and a delicious smell invades my nostrils, dragging my appetite back. Unwrapping my knife and folk, I stab at my separate bowl of salad, the most colourful I’ve ever seen

– peppers of every colour, red onion and a dozen varieties of lettuce leaf, all drenched in infused oil. I could eat this alone. It’s wonderful.

Crossing my legs, I place the tray on my lap and slice into the steak, humming a satisfied moan around my fork. The Manor does food very well.

‘Good?’

I feel Jesse’s chin resting on my shoulder. ‘Very,’ I mumble around my steak. ‘You want to try?’

He nods, opening his mouth. I slice a piece of steak and hold it over my shoulder for him to take. ‘Hmmm, very good.’ he says around his chew.

‘More?’ I ask. His eyes widen in appreciation, so I cut him another piece, passing it over my shoulder again. He watches me as he wraps his full lips around my fork and slowly pulls the steak off. I can’t help the big smile that breaks out across my face. His eyes sparkle with pleasure and he struggles to prevent his own smile as he chews. He clamps his hands on my shoulders and buries his face in my neck from behind.

He nips playfully at my neck. ‘You taste better.’

My smile broadens as he makes a meal of chewing at my throat, growling and nuzzling to his heart’s content. I laugh, raising my shoulder when he latches onto my ear, his hot breath causing shudders to course through me. He entices so many extreme reactions from me – extreme frustration, extreme desire and extreme happiness are just a few. This man works me, and he works me well.

‘You eat,’ he says as he kisses my temple tenderly. He starts circling his thumbs into the top of my back. ‘You’re tense. Why are you tense?’ he asks.

I roll my neck in gratitude. I’m tense because I’m here – it’s the only reason.

How can one woman make me feel so uncomfortable? There’s a knock on Jesse’s office door.

‘Yes?’ He carries on working my shoulders as Sarah walks in.

Ah, speak of the devil. The atmosphere instantly cools as she clocks Jesse massaging my shoulders, her facial expression altering significantly. I notice it, but Jesse seems oblivious to the chilly undertones of her presence. I tense further, suddenly wanting Jesse’s hands off of me.

That’s something I never thought I would want. But right now, I feel like an impostor, and the icy glare I’m getting thrown

at

me

has

me

shifting

uncomfortably in my seat. I’m really not helping my cause, sat here, legs crossed, all cosy on the sofa, with a steak in my lap and Mr Godly working his magic on me.

‘Your figures,’ she grumbles, waving the folder and walking casually over to Jesse’s desk to place them in front of his chair. She turns to face us, throwing daggers at me. Oh, she really hates me.

‘Thanks, Sarah.’ He leans down and brushes his lips over my cheek, inhaling deeply before releasing me. ‘I have to work now, baby. Eat your dinner.’ I see Sarah scowl briefly before reinstating the fake smile on her pouty face when Jesse turns towards her. He reaches into his jean pocket. ‘Have one hundred thousand transferred into this account ASAP.’ he instructs, handing her an envelope.

‘One hundred?’ Sarah blurts. She glances down at the envelope.

‘Yes. Now, please.’ He leaves her staring at the paper, taking his seat up behind his desk, completely ignorant to her gaping mouth. She flicks me a murderous look. It’s then I realise that it’s the envelope Sally gave him.

One hundred thousand? That’s way too much. What’s he thinking? I want to say something. Should I say something? I look at Sarah. She’s stood there scrutinising me, pursing her red lips. I don’t blame her. I just want to crawl under the sofa and die.

One hundred thousand? Christ, she already thinks I’m after his money.

‘That’s all, Sarah.’ Jesse dismisses her and she turns to leave, but not before throwing a scowl in my direction.

She saunters over to the door, meeting John at the threshold. He nods at her before moving to the side to let her pass, shutting the door behind her. He flicks me a nod, and I smile before resuming the picking of my salad and steak. Yeah, my appetite has run for the hills. I need to speak to him and ask what role that woman plays in his life.

And why does she hate me so much? I place the tray back on the coffee table to pour some wine, but I notice Pete’s only brought one glass, so I take myself over to the side board, collect a tumbler for myself and return to the sofa to pour the wine.

When I place the glass on Jesse’s desk, John stops talking and they both look at the glass, then to me.

Jesse picks it up, handing it back to me.

‘I’m fine, thank you, baby,’ He smiles. ‘I’m driving.’

‘Oh,’ I take the glass back. ‘Sorry.’

‘Don’t be, you have it. I got the wine for you.’

I take my place on the sofa, picking up a magazine called
SuperBike
. It’s the only one so it will have to do.

I start flicking through, loosing myself in the articles on superbikes,
MotoGP
and getting myself over excited when I find a section especially devoted to superbike passengers or riding pillion, as I now know it to be termed. Is Jesse’s a superbike? I read the rules of riding pillion, along with an article entitled

“Safety First”. I’ll make him wear leathers, if it’s the last thing I do. I’m completely lost in details of four-stroke engines, horsepower ratings and the approaching
Milan Motorcycle show
, when I feel warm hands wrap around my neck from behind. I drop my head back to look at his upside down features.

He blesses me with his roguish grin.

‘I’ve started something, haven’t I?’ He bends and drops his lips onto my forehead.

‘Why haven’t you upgraded to the 1198?’

He smiles. ‘I have, but I prefer the 1098.’

‘Oh, how many do you have?’

‘Twelve.’

‘Twelve? Are they all superbikes?’

He laughs lightly. ‘Yes, Ava, they’re all superbikes. Come on, I’m taking you home.’

I place the magazine back on the table and begin to unravel my folded body. ‘You know, you should be wearing leathers.’ I push casually.

‘I know I should.’ He takes my hand, leading me to the door.

‘So, why don’t you?’

‘I’ve rode bikes since I…’ He halts mid-sentence and glances down at me.

‘For many years,’

‘You’re going to have to reveal an age at some point.’

He looks at me, and I smile brightly, earning myself a return beam for Jesse.

‘Maybe.’ he says quietly. If he’s rode bikes for years, then he should appreciate the dangers.

We walk through The Manor, finding Sam and Drew at the bar. Sam’s obviously not seeing Kate tonight. He looks his usual self, as does Drew, with his black suit and perfectly placed black hair.

‘My man!’ Sam cheers. ‘Ava, I love your Little Miss knickers.’ He hands me a familiar gym bag.

I die a thousand deaths on the spot. He went through my underwear drawer? The cheeky swine! Feeling my face flame, I glance up at Jesse to see anger pouring from his entire being. Oh, Sam!

‘Don’t push your fucking luck, Sam.’ he warns, his tone super serious. Sam’s grin fades as he puts his hands up in submission.

Drew exhales, shaking his head and placing his beer on the bar. ‘There’s a line, Sam.’ he says in agreement to Jesse’s reaction towards Sam’s inappropriate comment.

‘Hey, I’m sorry.’ Sam grumbles, looking at me with a hint of a grin breaking free.

I glance around the bar. It’s really busy.

There are plenty of people milling about, all chatting, many putting their hand up in acknowledgment to Jesse, but none of them approach him. I feel the same animosity from the women in here as I did in the summer room. I’m seriously stepping on some toes by being here. Is Jesse aware of all these admirers? I feel like I’ve poached him. And now I’m certain that the repeat business is based solely on The Lord of the Manor and his devastating looks.