Beneath This Man (35 page)

‘Hmmm,’ I can’t talk.

‘Bed.’ He pulls me up so I can wrap myself around him.

‘You need to eat.’ All I’ve seen him have today is half a jar of peanut butter and half a sandwich. I don’t hold my breath that he had anything else. He needs food.

He straightens to standing position and carries me into the penthouse. ‘I’m not hungry. Are you?’

I’m not actually, not at all. ‘No, but promise me you’ll have a decent breakfast.’

‘I promise.’

‘Okay, take me to bed, God.’ I smile against his shoulder when I feel him silently laughing under me.

I’m lowered into bed and as soon as Jesse slips in besides me, I crawl onto his chest. He kisses my hair before smoothing his palm up and down my back. I shift closer to him; I can’t get near enough. As always, there is no space welcome between us.

Chapter 17

I wake up with Jesse buried deep inside me, his chest to my back as he holds my waist and pumps forward. My brain is not the only thing woken up. My body jumps to attention and I reach back and curl my fingers into his hair, arching my back and tilting my head back to find his lips.

I let him take my mouth, our tongues delving wildly as he pistons forward. I push myself back onto him with each surge, every one cranking me up further and further.

 ‘Ava, I can’t get enough of you.’ he gasps against my mouth. ‘Promise you’ll never leave me?’

As if! ‘I won’t.’ I fist my hands in his hair and yank his lips back down to mine. I love his mouth, even when he’s being challenging and I want to sew it shut. He needs constant reassurance that I’m not going anywhere. Will he always make me swear on this? I’ll always comply, without a shadow of a doubt, but what I really want is for him to know this without having to ask me repeatedly to swear on it.  

I pull away to look at my uncertain man. He shows such confidence in everything except this. ‘Please, believe me.’ He maintains his firm, powerful drives as he looks at me, but he doesn’t give me the reassurance I need. I need to know he believes me. He offers a small smile then bangs our mouths back together, increasing the tempo of his thrusts further.

I try hard, but I can’t keep my mouth to his when he’s thundering forward with such intensity. I release him and face forward, gripping the edge of the mattress to keep myself in position as I’m yanked back onto him repeatedly.

The coil snaps and I jerk as we both yell at the same time and he charges forward manically, throwing me into a bottomless abyss of utter pleasure. I try and catch my breath, my heart fighting to gain control and my body convulsing of its own accord. Jesse swears and bucks forward one last frenzied time, and then the warm sensation of his release floods me.

‘Oh, my fucking God.’ he puffs, slipping out of me and falling onto his back.

I roll over and climb onto his body, straddling his hips and laying on his chest, nuzzling my face in his neck. ‘That wasn’t sleepy sex.’ I declare into his neck then press my lips to his throbbing vein.

‘No?’ he pants.

‘No. That was a sleepy fuck.’ I wince, immediately realising that I’ve just swore and we haven’t even got out of bed yet.

‘For God’s sake, Ava. Stop swearing!’ he grates with one hundred percent frustration.

I need to sort my mouth out, I never usually swear, it’s him! ‘Sorry.’ I bite his neck and suck a little.

‘Are you trying to mark me?’ he asks, but he doesn’t stop me. 

‘No, just tasting.’

He turns his face into me and finds my lips, wrapping his big arms around my back. ‘Breakfast?’

I’m hungry and I want to feed Jesse, but I’m comfy where I am. I peck his lips and slide myself down his body until I’m nestled under his arm pit. ‘I’m comfy.’ I trail a path down his chest to his scar, tracing the length of his wound back and forth.

‘I love you, lady.’ He pulls his knee up into a bent position and lets me have my way. It’s a novelty.

‘I know you do.’

‘Do you?’ he asks uncertainly.

His question throws me. Of course I do. He tells me all of the time and if it’s as much as I love him, then it’s a lot. Immeasurable, in fact. Please don’t tell me that he doubts me here too. I look up at him. ‘Yes, I do.’

He reaches down and pulls me up his body and then flips me onto my back, pinning me under him with my wrists in his grasp above my head. ‘I don’t know if you do.’ His eyes burn into mine, his face serious.

Where has this come from? ‘You tell me enough, of course I know.’ I try and free my wrists so I can hold his face, but he refuses to let me go.

‘Words will never be enough, Ava.’ He’s so serious.

‘Is that why you test me with your challenging ways?’ I ask, in an attempt to lighten him up. I don’t like how downhearted he looks. I wish he wouldn’t worry about me leaving, me loving him, and wondering if I know how much he loves me. All those ships have long sailed.

‘Everything I do is because I am so crazy mad in love with you. I’ve never felt like this before, not ever.’ He’s almost scowling at me, like he’s mad that he feels this way. ‘I lose my head just at the thought of losing you. It makes me a total madman. Believe me, I’m aware of that.’ He drops a kiss on my lips. ‘I drive you insane, don’t I?’

Oh good Lord above! Is he admitting that he’s challenging? ‘You are very challenging, but you’re my challenging man and I love you, so you’re worth the frustration.’

‘You’re pretty challenging yourself, lady.’ he says dryly.

My eyes bulge. ‘Me?’ The man is a bloody nutcase!

‘But I love you too, and you are so, so worth the headache.’

I want to…well, challenge him. No sooner has he given me what I want – an admission – he tramples it with his own accusations.

Me? Challenging?

I start to make my case, but he hushes me with his lush lips, and I’m distracted instantly. He knows what he’s doing. I relax my aching, overworked tongue and fall into his slow, lapping rhythm, my hands still pinned above my head. His mouth is the most marvelous thing in the world.

He pecks my lips. ‘I knew you were the one the second I laid eyes on you.’

‘The one?’ I’m intrigued. His persistence and insistence that I belonged with him at the beginning of our relationship has always been confusing to me.

He nuzzles my ear. ‘The one to bring me back to life.’ he says in that matter-of-fact tone – the one that basically means he is saying something only he understands. Was he dead?

‘How did you know?’ He’s talking. I need to extract as much from him as possible.

He looks me straight in the eyes. They are bursting with meaning. ‘Because my heart started beating again.’ he whispers.

A lump jumps into my throat as I look up, completely stunned by his admission. That is some serious deep, and I’m totally overwhelmed by it. I don’t know what to say. He’s looking down at me, this devastating man, like I’m the only thing that exists.

I pull at his grip on my wrists until he lets go and throw my arms around his body, my legs around his waist, holding onto him like he is the only thing that exists.

He is, for me.

I don’t know the whys and wherefores of that statement, but the power of those words really does say it all. He can’t live without me. Well, I couldn’t live without him either. This man is my world.

He lays still over me and lets me squeeze him until my muscles ache. ‘Can I feed you?’ I ask when my thigh muscles start to scream in protest. He lifts me from the bed, still coiled around his body, and carries me from the bedroom, down the stairs. ‘I’m going to forget how to use my legs.’ I say as he reaches the bottom and heads for the kitchen.

‘Then I’ll carry you everywhere.’

‘You would like that, wouldn’t you?’ It would be a perfect excuse for him to have me nailed to him.

‘I would love it.’ He smirks at me and parks me on the cold marble, the coldness radiating through my backside reminding me that we’re both stark, bollock naked. I admire his perfect arse as he walks over to the fridge and collects an assortment of breakfast things and a jar of peanut butter.

I slide off the island. ‘I’m supposed to be making
you
breakfast.’ I shove him out of the way. ‘Sit.’ I command in my most demanding tone. He grins and grabs the jar of peanut butter, before tweaking my nipple and doing a runner to the stool. ‘What do you want?’ I ask as I shove some bread in the toaster. I turn and see him diving into his fresh jar.

‘Fried eggs.’ he says around a finger, blatantly trying to suppress a grin.

I look down at my naked form. I might have to get dressed if he wants fried anything. Looking back up to him, I find he has lost the battle and is grinning, his face delighted. ‘I’ll cook yours, if you cook mine.’ I run my eyes down his naked chest and raise my eyebrows.

He pulls his finger out. ‘Savage.’

Both of our heads snap towards the kitchen archway when we hear the front door opening. I flick my wide eyes back to Jesse who has a finger suspended in mid-air on its way to his mouth. He is looking as equally who-the-fuck?

Jumping up, he knocks his jar of peanut butter flying off the island, sending it crashing to the floor. It smashes, scattering glass everywhere. I’m panicking now.

‘Fucking hell!’ He looks at me, all wide eyed. ‘It’s Cathy!’

Oh good God help me!

I ripped her head off last night and now I’m going to flash her! And to top it off, her burnt lasagna is sat on the side, bold as brass. She’s going to hate me. There is no way out of this kitchen without going towards the source of our distress. I stare at Jesse. He’s frozen on the spot, looking as torn as I am. Cathy probably won’t mind copping a load of him. I smile, but then snap back to the here and now. I finish ogling my finely tuned man and peg it across the kitchen.

‘Shit!’ A stab of pain shoots through my foot. ‘Ouch ouch ouch!’ I carry on my way, ignoring the pain.

Jesse is not far behind me, laughing uncontrollably as we run up the stairs. ‘Mouth!’ he splutters and smacks my arse.

‘Goodness gracious!’

I hear the distressed voice as we reach the top. Oh, what must we look like? I run full pelt to the bedroom and throw myself under the covers. I’m mortified. I’ll never be able to look her in the eye again.

I feel Jesse land on the bed. ‘Where are you?’ He works his way through the covers until he locates me with my head buried in the pillow. ‘There you are.’ He flips me over and submerges his face in my breasts. ‘You’ve upset the concierge, and now you’ve really upset my housekeeper.’

‘Don’t!’ I throw my arms over my face in complete despair.

He laughs. ‘Let me see your foot.’ He shifts himself onto his heels and clasps my foot in his hand.

‘It hurts.’ I complain when I feel his fingertip run lightly over my heel.

‘Baby, you’ve got a piece of glass stuck.’ He kisses the heel of my foot and jumps up from the bed. ‘Tweezers?’

I throw one arm off my face and point to the bathroom. ‘Make-up bag.’ I grumble. I can’t believe I’ve just flashed Jesse’s housekeeper. This is horrible – mortifying. I need a dressing gown.

I feel the bed sink under his weight again and he clasps my foot. ‘Hold still.’ he instructs softly.

I hold my breath and reposition my arms so my palms are flat on my burning red face, but all embarrassment is momentarily eliminated when I feel the warm wetness of his tongue dragging up my instep, licking the trail of blood away. I shiver under his tongue’s stroke and remove my hands to look down at him, shifting a little, my thighs tightening. He smiles knowingly, his eyes sparkling, before he wraps his lips around the offending shard.

‘What are you doing?’

‘I’m getting it out.’ he says against my heel. He sucks on my heel and pulls away before taking the tweezers and getting up close and personal with the heel of my foot.

I grin as I watch his concentration frown appear across his brow.

‘There.’ He kisses my foot and releases it. It was pretty pain free, actually. ‘What are you grinning at?’ He looks at me in amusement.

‘Your frown line.’

‘I don’t have a frown line.’ He’s offended.

‘You do.’

He crawls up the bed and lays himself over me. ‘Miss O’Shea, are you saying I have wrinkles?’

My grin widens. ‘No. It only pops up when you’re concentrating, or if you’re concerned.’

‘It does?’

‘It does.’

‘Oh.’ He frowns. ‘Is it there now?’

I laugh and he bites my boob, sending me on a little buck under him.

‘Get ready.’ He lands me with a hard kiss. ‘I’ll go and see if Cathy’s run out screaming.’

My laughing abates at the reminder of Jesse’s poor housekeeper, who has just copped a load of my bare arse. ‘Okay.’

‘I’ll see you downstairs.’ He leans back down and plants a molten lasting kiss on my mouth. ‘Don’t be long.’

‘I won’t.’ I grumble, like the sulky little girl that I am.

He jumps up and pulls on a pair of checkered lounge pants, and then leaves me so he can go and placate his housekeeper.

I distract myself from my despair by having a shower and getting myself ready, slipping on a floral tea dress – probably too short – and my flat sandals. I pull my hair up into a ponytail. I’ll do.

As I walk into the kitchen like a timid waif, all fidgety and nervous, Jesse looks up from his salmon and scrambled egg bagel and gives me one of my smiles. His bare chest distracts me fleetingly from my embarrassment, and I don’t miss his slight scowl when he registers the length of my dress. I ignore him.

‘Here she is. Cathy this is Ava, love of my life.’ He pats the stool next him as Cathy turns around from the fridge to look at me.

My cheeks burn and I offer her a small, apologetic smile. I feel much better when I detect a red flush in her cheeks. I’ve been so worried about my own mortification, I hadn’t considered how embarrassed she might be. I take a seat next to Jesse and he pours me some orange juice.

‘I like your dress.’ he smirks. ‘Too short but excellent access. It can stay.’ 

I look at him in horror and give him a kick under the island. He laughs and sinks his teeth into his bagel. I’m shocked by his behaviour but pleasantly surprised by his acceptance – he’s not marched me back upstairs in disgrace.