This Man Confessed (This Man 3)

I smile to myself as I watch my determined mother shoved back slightly before being lifted from her feet and placed neatly to the side, giving Jesse access to me. She rearranges her dress and straightens her hairpiece, all the while spitting nails at my challenging man. Then I cast my eyes back to the open doorway. His eyes are green pools of desire and they’re studying me closely; his face expressionless, his jaw stubbled. My greedy eyes trail slowly down his half nakedness as he stands before me in just his loose shorts, his solid chest damp and his hair dark with sweat. He’s been running again.

‘Well!’ Mum huffs. ‘Ava, tell him to leave!’ She’s not happy.

I find his eyes again. ‘It’s fine, mum. Just give us five minutes.’

His eyes sparkle in approval as he stands patiently waiting for my mum to relent and leave us. Mum won’t appreciate it, but even this small gesture is uncharacteristically respectful. He’ll ravish me wherever and whenever he pleases, so the fact that he hasn’t physically removed my mum from the room is quite a surprise. He’s trampling all right, but he could trample harder.

I see Kate in my peripheral vision approach my mum and take her arm. ‘Come on, Elizabeth. Just a few minutes won’t hurt.’

‘It’s tradition!’ she argues, but still lets Kate lead her out. I smile a little. There is nothing traditional about my relationship with Jesse.. ‘What’s that bruise on his chest?’ I hear my mother ask as she’s pushed from the room.

The door closes, and we maintain our deep eye connection, neither one of us saying anything for the longest time. I just drink him in, every finely tuned muscle, every perfect inch of pure beauty.

He finally speaks. ‘I don’t want to take my eyes away from your face.’

‘No?’

He shakes his head mildly. ‘They’ll be lace if I do, won’t there?’

I nod.

‘White lace?’

‘Ivory.’

His chest expands slightly. ‘And you’re taller, so you’ve got heels on.’

I nod again. This could be dangerous for my hair, make-up and underwear if those eyes stray from my face. It could also be dangerous for our strict time schedule. I’m expecting Tessa up here at any moment to check that I’m ready before she hits me with how many steps it is to the summer room and how long it should take me to get there.

He blinks a few times, and I know he’ll never resist a peek; he’d just better control himself when he gets the full impact, and I’d better control myself, too. It’s hard. Sweat beads are trailing down his temple, across his neck and onto his solid chest, before shimmering as they travel the waves of his stomach and disperse in the waistband of his shorts. I shift as his eyes break from mine and lazily drag down my body, his chest heaving more severely as his gaze makes its journey. I’m tingling all over, wanting to control my body’s reaction to his perfection, but at the same time wanting him to take me here and now.

‘You’ve just trampled my mother.’ I try to hide the lust in my voice, but, as always, I fail miserably. This man is impossible to resist, especially when he’s looking at me like this—when his eyes are pouring with appreciation.

I make my move before he does. I walk slowly across the room to him and stop close to his sweat coated body, then flick my gaze up to his lush lips. His breathing escalates.

‘She was in my way.’ he says quietly, breathing down on me.

‘This is bad luck. You’re not supposed to see me before our wedding.’

‘Stop me.’ His head dips so his lips brush over mine gently, but he doesn’t touch my body. ‘I’ve missed you.’

‘It’s been twelve hours.’ My voice is husky and inviting, even though I know I shouldn’t be encouraging contact when he’s a mass of hard, muscled sweatiness, and I’m standing in ivory lace, hair and make-up all perfect.

‘Too long.’ He runs his tongue slowly across my bottom lip, enticing a quiet moan from my mouth. I’m instantly fighting the natural instinct to grab his big shoulders. ‘You’ve had a drink.’ he accuses softly.

‘Just a sip.’ He’s like a bloodhound. ‘We shouldn’t be doing this.’

‘You can’t look like this and say things like that, Ava.’ His lips push to mine, his tongue seeking entry, encouraging my lips to part and accept him into my mouth. The hot warmness of him dispels my nervousness;, everything is forgotten as he claims me, but still keeps his hands to himself. Our sweeping tongues are the only contact between us, but it’s as consuming as ever. My senses are saturated, my mind scrambled, and my body begging for him. But he just maintains the slow, fluid movements of his tongue, withdrawing occasionally to tease my lips, before plunging back into my mouth. I hum at his exquisite pace, the inevitable bang dropping between my thighs as he worships me delicately.

‘Jesse, we’re going to be late for our wedding.’ I need to halt this before one of us takes it to the next level. It might be me.

‘Don’t tell me to stop kissing you, Ava.’ He bites my bottom lip and drags it slowly through his teeth. ‘Never tell me to stop kissing you.’ He lowers himself to his knees and takes my hands, pulling me down. I kick my shoes off and join him. He watches his thumbs circling over the tops of my hands for a while before lifting his glorious green eyes to find mine. ‘Are you ready to do this?’ he asks quietly.

I frown. ‘Are you asking me if I still want to marry you?’

His lips tip a little. ‘No, you don’t get a choice. I’m just asking if you’re ready.’