This Man Confessed (This Man 3)

I’m crushed, my racing mind thinking up all sorts of explanations for his quiet absence over the last four days—where he’s been, what he’s been doing. He’s clearly not mourning his loss. He looks arrogant, confident and sickeningly handsome—just like he did on the day I met him. They are all familiar traits to me, but right now, they are all enhanced. He knows the effect he’s having on me and all of the other women dribbling at his heels.

Uncertainty and raging jealously are strangling me, and I’m still staring at him, watching as he assaults the women surrounding him with that f**king face, making them disintegrate on the spot.

Oh yes, there he is, my husband, looking like he’s just landed from planet f**king perfect. My eyes narrow as I watch a black haired, red dress woman stroke his arm, and I literally hold myself back from physically removing her. But I left him, although he’s clearly not that bothered. I laugh to myself. He needs me? It certainly doesn’t look like it.

I’m aware of the silence in our group, so I drag my eyes away from my bastard of a husband and see Kate watching me closely, Tom dribbling along with the other hussies and Victoria scuffing her ridiculous heels on the bar floor in an awkward silence. I shake my head on a little laugh and take a massive swig of the wine I’ve been carefully sipping, flicking my eyes briefly over in his direction. He knows I’m watching. If he wants to play games, then I’m willing, and I don’t plan of settling for anything less than gold.

‘Let’s dance.’ I down the rest of my wine and slam the glass on the bar before pushing my way through the small crowds until I find myself on the dance floor. When I turn around, I find my three loyal friends have all joined me.

Kate looks nervous. I make a snatch for her wine, but she swipes it away. ‘Don’t be stupid, Ava.’ she warns seriously. ‘I know you’re still pregnant.’

I’m trying to piece together something to strike back with, but nothing is coming to me, so in an act of complete stupidity, I turn and stomp over to the bar. I know he’s watching me, and I know Kate is, too, but it doesn’t stop me from ordering and then downing a fresh glass in one foul swoop before returning to the floor.

‘What are you trying to prove?’ Kate yells at me. ‘Because if it’s that you’re a f**king twat, then you’re succeeding.’ Her words would probably hit a nerve if the alcohol wasn’t getting in the way. I don’t care.

I’m distracted from my pissed off friend by Tom’s squeal, his eyes lighting up when the DJ launches Rob D Clubbed to death. He pounces on me. ‘Get me a whistle, shove me in some hot pants and put me on that podium! Ibiza!’

I shut my mind down, cancelling out all thoughts of my infuriating man, and let the music take me, my body falling into sync with the track, my arms rising above my head and my eyes closing. I’m in a world of my own. My only awareness is of the loud music and me at the centre of it.

I’m lost.

Numb.

Silently devastated.

But he’s near.

I can sense him. I can smell his fresh water scent closing in, and then there’s his touch. My arms slowly fall as I feel his palm slide across my stomach, his groin pressing into my lower back, his hot breath in my ear. I’m surrounded by him, and even though I should be pushing him away, I can’t. My blank mind remains blank, and I start moving with him as he kisses my neck, his hard c**k pushing into my back. I’m powerless to stop my head from falling slightly to the side, giving him better access. My throat’s taut, making me hyper-sensitive to his firm tongue, which is trailing straight up my vein until he’s at me ear, breathing heavy, hot, controlled breaths. I can’t help it. I moan and push myself back, further into him.

The music seems to get louder, his handling of me more severe and before I can open my eyes, I’m being dragged from the dance floor. I could try to stop him, but I don’t. I follow his lead until I’m being pulled through the corridor towards the toilets, everything around me seeming slow and slurred as I focus only on his broad back in front of me. As we approach the end of the passageway, I glance back and see Jay watching us, then Jesse turns and gives him the nod before opening the door to a disabled toilet and pushing me inside. The door is swiftly shut, the lock flipped and within a second, I’m pushed up against the wall by his body. The music is louder, and I look up, seeing integrated speakers in the ceiling, but my face is soon yanked back down. Our eyes meet. His greens are dark, completely smoked out and his lips are slightly parted. I’m panting as he takes my wrists and pulls them up, pinning them on either side of my head before he leans in and takes my bottom lips between his teeth and bites down, then pulls away, dragging it between his grip. I’ve lost all control of my bodily reactions. My belly is turning, shifting the thump that’s hammering away inside of me straight down to my core. I’m desperate for him, but the placing of my hands and his hard body compressed to mine is preventing me from moving anything but my head, so I reach forward with my lips, but he ducks my aim. This is going to be on his terms. His lips hover over mine, only millimetres from my reach. His hot, minty breath heats my face, but then he pulls away. He’s teasing me. I’m waiting for him to ask if I want him, and I’m more than ready to blurt my answer.

My husky voice breaks. ‘Kiss me,’ I’m begging, I’m aware of it, but I don’t care. I want and need him all over me.

His face is completely impassive as he flexes his grip on my wrists and increases the pressure of his body against mine. He slowly moves his face forward, his green orbs penetrating me completely, and tickles my lips with his. I moan and try to capture them, but he pulls away again, still poker-faced, still completely controlled. Not me, though. I’m about to go crazy with desperation.