With This Man (This Man 4)

‘To do what? Trample in your absence?’

‘Yes!’ I look down at my hand and see a blister developing. ‘Keep him away from my daughter,’ I warn, swiping up my phone and making my way to the sink. ‘Boys can’t be trusted. How old is the little shit?’

‘Thirteen.’

I drop my phone in the sink. ‘Thirteen?’ Oh my God! ‘Elizabeth, this—’ I’m interrupted mid-rant when someone takes my hand, and I peek to the side to find Ava inspecting the burn. She shakes her head, takes my phone from the sink and props it up against the backsplash.

‘Hi, Mum.’ She flips on the tap and forces my hand under the flow of cold water. I hiss as she looks at me out of the corner of her eye, her expression telling me it’s my own damn fault.

‘Hi, darling!’ Elizabeth, understandably, looks delighted to see her daughter.

Too bad. I seize the phone while Ava tends to my hand, keeping it steady under the water. ‘So, this boy.’

‘What boy?’ Ava pipes up, leaning and grabbing a towel off the side.

I ignore her and press Elizabeth for details. ‘Keep him away from my daughter.’

‘Oh, stop overreacting.’ My mother-in-law sighs. She just can’t help undermining me, the fucking pain in the arse that she is. ‘She’s growing up, Jesse. You need to let her.’

I think I might explode. How long would it take me to get to Newquay? ‘Elizabeth—’ The phone is gone from my hand speedily, Ava whipping it away and wandering off. I stare at her back incredulously.

‘Are the kids okay, Mum?’ she asks, looking over her shoulder, giving me a stare that dares me to hijack my phone. It’s a fucking conspiracy. All of them ganging up against me. ‘Good. And, yes.’ Ava pouts. ‘He’s being very attentive and caring. I’m feeling better by the day.’

I don’t want to smile. Not when I’m so pent up and stressed, but before I know it I’m grinning like a loon. She’s feeling great. I was, too, until my mother-in-law ruined it. I huff and plonk my arse on a stool, scowling down at my injured, towel-wrapped hand. Perfect. Fucking perfect.

‘I’m looking forward to seeing you, too.’ Ava joins me, holding up the bath towel that’s wrapped around her as she sits on the stool. I don’t know what comes over me. One minute she’s covered in white fluffy material, the next she’s covered in . . . nothing. The towel hits the floor and Ava gasps, shooting shocked eyes at me. And I just grin. Big, wide and satisfied, making a meal of relaxing on my stool and looking her up and down, up and down, up . . . and . . . down.

I breathe in and exhale loudly. ‘Breakfast’s looking mighty fine,’ I muse, earning a few playful slaps across the head. I laugh my way through it as she scrambles for her towel. Silly girl. I whip it away and run around the other side of the island, waving it teasingly.

‘Ava, you’re naked!’ Elizabeth screeches.

‘Damn FaceTime.’ I shake my head mockingly. ‘You’re naked, baby.’

Her scowl is award-worthy. And so is my smirk. ‘I have to go, Mum. Give the kids a kiss for me.’ She disconnects the call and points the phone at me. ‘You’re in trouble, Ward.’

‘Oh, goody.’ I toss the towel over my shoulder and rub my hands together. ‘Bring it on, baby. Bring. It. On.’

Her attempts to hide the twitch in her lips fails miserably. ‘You’re much older than me. I’m thinking speed isn’t your thing these days.’

Much older? ‘You haven’t seen me chase the boys away from our daughter. I’m a fucking greyhound.’

Eyes narrowed, she steps to the left. And I step to the right. ‘I’ll catch you,’ she warns.

Good. I hope she does. ‘And what will you do to me then?’

‘That’s for me to know.’

‘And I’m gonna find out.’ I dart out of the kitchen, towel billowing behind me, and as soon as I’m out of her sight, I drop to the floor and lie down on my back.

She comes half hobbling out of the kitchen, yelping when she trips over my foot. I catch her perfectly and bring her softly down onto my chest. ‘Seems you caught me, Mrs Ward.’

‘Don’t humour me.’ She presses her palms into my pecs, intending to push herself away but getting completely distracted by the vast expanse of my naked chest instead, her eyes sparkling with delight. The grins are coming thick and fast this morning.

‘Earth to Ava,’ I whisper, knocking her out of her mesmerised state.

‘You know,’ she sighs, keeping her eyes on mine as she lowers her lips to my pec and drops a lingering kiss there, ‘I think even if I were still young, I’d want to do you.’

Laughter rumbles up from my toes, jolting her on my chest. I feel her grin against my skin, her hands splayed and feeling me. Once I’ve pulled myself back around, I roll us, trapping her naked body beneath mine. She hisses, and I bolt up, worried. ‘It’s fine.’ She sinks her hands into my hair and plays with the strands. ‘The floor’s cold on my back. How’s your hand?’

My eyes narrow, aware she’s trying to divert the attention onto me. ‘My hand is fine.’ I flex it a little, testing my own claim. A little sore, but that’s all.

Moving her hands to my arse, she sinks her nails into the material of my boxers, circling her hips up on a sultry hum.

My cock wakes up, and I lift my hips to make room for it between us, the ache instant. I groan, dropping my head. I need to rein myself in. ‘I’ve taken up far too much of your energy over the past couple of days.’ Motorbike rides, dinner, arguing . . . sex.

‘But—’

‘No buts.’ Grudgingly, I rise, helping Ava up and wrapping her in the towel, ignoring her grumbling. ‘You need to eat.’ Her shoulders slump, and while I’m beyond thrilled that she’s struggling to contain her want, I’m aware of how much I’ve taken out of her, even if she won’t admit it. I turn her and lead her back to the kitchen, sitting her down before serving up her eggs. Questionable eggs. ‘Eat,’ I order, putting the fork in her hand and grabbing my phone. I just need to make a call. I dial John and leave the kitchen. ‘Sarah rang me last night,’ I tell him quietly when I’m out of earshot, looking over my shoulder.

‘What the fuck?’ He’s not happy. Good. Neither am I. ‘I’ve fucking told her.’

‘Well, you can tell her again.’

He grunts his confirmation. ‘I will. I have. But she’s insisting she needs to talk to you.’

‘That ain’t happening. The woman’s poison.’

‘I know that. You know that. But Sarah’s just as stubborn as ever.’ He sighs. ‘I’ll speak to her. How’s Ava?’

‘She’s good. The club?’

‘S’all good,’ he confirms. ‘You concentrate on your girl.’

‘Thanks, John.’ I smile as I hang up, and quickly take the opportunity to call Elizabeth back while Ava’s eating her breakfast. ‘Hey.’

She sighs. ‘Jesse Ward, I am not—’

‘Shut up, woman. I’ve not called about the little shit. I wanted to talk to you about Ava and the kids.’

‘Oh? Everything okay?’

‘Yes, actually. Really good. And the kids?’ I don’t need to ask. I can see it on their faces every time we talk. They’re fine.

‘They’re great. Full of questions, but they just need reassurance. Speaking to Ava has helped.’

I smile. ‘I know it’s been a week already, but our first few days here were spent in tears. I’m seeing progress now, Elizabeth.’ It pains me to say it, and I miss the twins terribly, but . . . ‘Can you give me a little more time?’

She doesn’t hesitate. ‘We were thinking of heading back on Monday.’

‘I love you, Mum.’

‘Shut up, you menace.’ She hangs up as I head back to the kitchen and take a stool next to Ava, noticing she’s not touched a bit of her breakfast.

I nudge her when she places her fork down, flipping her a warning look as I slide my pho

ne onto the counter, ready to commence force-feeding my wife. ‘Stop staring at it and eat.’

She sighs and loads her fork with a minuscule bit of egg. ‘Who was that?’

‘John.’ I get up and pour some coffee. ‘I was just checking up on the club.’

‘Can I see it?’ She pops some breakfast in her mouth and chews slowly, watching me.

‘See what?’

‘The club.’

‘Sure. You eat all your breakfast and I’ll take you after your therapy session.’

The flare of exasperation in her eyes makes me smile. ‘Like a good little wife?’

Resting my elbows on the island across from her, I smile the smile I reserve only for her. ‘Exactly like that.’ I blow her a little kiss and start clearing up the kitchen. Maybe a visit to our health club will jog something in that muddled mind of hers.

Chapter 30

The car park is jam-packed. I spot Drew’s car in one of the reserved bays and pull up next to it, quickly making my way around the car to help Ava out. She’s quiet as I walk her to the modern building. It couldn’t look more different from The Manor. The club is still luxurious, but nowhere near as ostentatious. The reception area is buzzing when we enter.

‘Is that a salon?’ Ava asks, pointing to one of the four shop fronts on the ground floor. ‘And a beauty parlour?’

‘Yes, and Raya operates from that one there.’

‘What does she do?’ Ava lets me take her hand, seeming a bit overwhelmed by the place already.

‘Sports therapy.’ I nod to one of the girls on reception who quickly lets us through the turnstiles. ‘And that one over there is a health food store.’

‘It’s like health heaven,’ she says, smiling awkwardly when the girls on reception all wave hello. ‘And I work here?’

‘You sound disappointed.’ When we arrive at the juice bar, I spot Drew through the glass window that overlooks the pool area. He’s at the top of the diving board giving Georgia instructions.

‘Well, I’ve always dreamed of owning my own design company,’ Ava says.

‘You gave up work to have the twins.’ It was way before the twins came, but how Ava came to leave her employment at Rococo Union isn’t something I’m going into. I often wonder whether that prick Mikael still owns it, or if he sold it off as soon as my wife quit. ‘When the kids started school full-time, you decided you wanted to have an input here.’

A doubtful look lands on me. ‘I decided, or you made me?’

‘You decided,’ I confirm, and order her favourite power shake. ‘In your words, I’m crap at organising financial stuff and you weren’t about to let someone else do it.’

‘So you pay me?’ She accepts the shake, eyeing it suspiciously.

‘Handsomely,’ I reply, my voice suggestive and low.

She tosses me a playful filthy look. ‘Very funny.’

‘You’re a director, Ava. Like I said, we own it.’

I can tell she’s happy about that, her lovely lips taking the straw and sipping thoughtfully as she gazes around the bar, where laptops clutter tables and people chat post-workout. ‘Hmmm, this is lush.’

‘Glad your taste hasn’t changed,’ I say, motioning her to the stairs that lead to the gym floor.

Her face is suddenly bright and chirpy as she flanks me, her lips stuck to the straw. ‘That would have been a bit of a shock for you, wouldn’t it?’

‘What would?’

‘Well, if I came around and didn’t fancy you.’ She titters as we take the stairs, amused.

‘So you fancy me?’ I say, sounding casual and unaffected.

‘You’re all right, I suppose.’

The nerve. I nudge her and she chuckles, coming to a stop at the top of the stairs when the gym floor comes into view. ‘Wow.’ Turning slowly on the spot, she takes in the vast space. It could take her a while. A Bodypump class is happening on the grid across the way, a team of serious weight trainers are lifting in the corner, a group of women are speed cycling at the far back. And then the glass-fronted studios are all full, one class or another happening in each. All the endorphins bouncing around the place are sinking into my skin, and I wish I could hit the treadmill. Exercise has always been a blessing to me, a perfect way to alleviate stress. And now, when I’m the most stressed I’ve ever been, I haven’t had the opportunity to expel it.

Many people pass us, clients and staff, all saying hello, smiling, clearly pleased to see us. But Ava doesn’t recognise any of them. She just smiles awkwardly, becoming increasingly uncomfortable by the second.

‘I’m here every day?’ she asks, her tone not cluing me in on whether that pleases her or daunts her. I’m hoping it pleases her, and then maybe she’ll lose that silly idea of working elsewhere.

‘Yes, with me.’

She seizes my hand without prompt, clinging to it harshly. ‘It’s very loud.’

Shit, she’s right. It’s banging, nothing unusual, but Ava’s head is delicate. I pull her on, keen to get us away from the pumping gym floor to somewhere quieter. ‘Here.’ Opening the door to her office, I usher her in and shut out the noise. That’s better. She probably couldn’t hear herself think.

She wanders in quietly, taking in the space that she frequents daily, my eager eyes looking for some recognition on her face. She finds the picture frame on the desk and lifts it, smiling down at the photograph of us all. It’s just another piece of evidence that this is real, that she’s not about to wake up at any moment and discover she’s been trapped in a dream. ‘Your office is very nice,’ she says, setting the frame down.

My office? ‘This isn’t my office, Ava,’ I say, taking my usual spot on the couch by the window. ‘This is your office.’

Her eyes widen a fraction, going on another little journey around the space. ‘Mine?’ she questions, obviously thrown.

Reclining, I smile at her wonder. ‘Yours.’

I watch as she pulls her chair out from her desk and sits down, tugging open a few drawers. She takes something out and flashes it to me on a grin. Setting the red nail polish on the top, she sits back, and I smile, thinking she looks as sexy as ever when she’s behind that desk. ‘I feel very important.’

‘You are.’ I kick my ankle up onto my knee and rest my elbow on the back of the couch.

‘So where’s your office?’

‘I’m sitting on it.’

Her smile is given through a frown. ‘You work from that couch?’

‘Yes.’

‘And what work do you do from there?’ She kicks her feet up onto the desk, while I kick mine up onto the couch, lying back, arms behind my head, all comfy. I wish she could see what I see when I’m in here. I see us on every available surface. Me between her legs. God, how many times have I taken her on that desk?

‘The only work I get done while I’m in here is admiring my wife. It’s a very important part of my day.’

‘Slacking on the job? The boss isn’t setting a very good example.’

I’m thoroughly amused by her words. ‘Ava, everyone around here knows that it is you who’s boss. Not me.’

‘That’s absurd.’ She picks up a pen and starts to fiddle with it, weaving it through her fingers in feigned concentration. ‘You’re a control freak. I can’t image you let me take the reins in your fancy health club.’

‘I’m only a control freak when it comes to you. And it’s our health club.’

She nods, thoughtful, gazing around. ‘So while I’m slaving away, you just lie there looking pretty, do you?’

I lift my head a little, eyebrows high. ‘You think I look pretty?’ I’m playing it all cool, but inside I want to jump up and rock out to a bit of JT. She’s being rather open with her attraction today. Almost blatant. Almost suggestive.

It’s no wonder she has a headache: her eye-rolls are constant and impr

essive. ‘How do I concentrate with you loitering around?’ She goes into another drawer and pulls out a few files, frowning at them. Then a calculator that she sets to the side. And, finally, a nail file. She looks delighted with her find as she takes it to her nails.

‘I leave you to work.’ Fuck, what was I thinking bringing us in here? All my intentions to make her take it easy are forgotten. Lost. She’s sitting there in her pretty little sundress and flip-flops, her hair a mess of loose waves, her face make-up-free, and she looks fucking edible. And that desk is calling. I throw my legs off the couch, get up, and stride towards her.

The side-to-side motion of the file slows as I near, her eyes lifting up my tall frame to my face. ‘You’re not lying down now.’ She points the file at me, as if I might have missed the fact that I’ve got myself to my feet. ‘Does that mean you’re going to do some work?’

‘Oh, yes.’ I sit on the edge of her desk, my gaze never wavering from hers. ‘I’m going to do some work all right.’

Breath hitching. Body subtly fidgeting. Eyes filing with hunger. Nipples hardening against the material of her dress. My eyes drop to her crotch, my head tilting. She’s wet, too. I can smell it from here.

‘Behave,’ she all but squeaks, going back to filing her nails, doing a terrible job of feigning coolness.

She’s on fire. I can practically see the flames on her skin. And all of these reactions have the usual effect on me. She has her usual effect on me. This woman makes my veins burn. Makes my eyes sting just looking at her. Makes my heart surge with adoration.

‘See, that’s always been a problem for me, Ava.’ I place the tip of my finger on the shiny wood of her desk and drag it lazily across the surface. ‘I’ve never been able to behave when it comes to you.’

‘Wherever, whenever,’ she murmurs, lust spilling over every word. ‘We’ve had sex in this office, haven’t we?’

‘The couch, the floor, the desk, against the door.’ I take her feet from the desk and use them to pull her closer on her rolling chair, smiling when she sticks herself to the back. Plucking the file from between her limp fingers, I flick it across her desk and lower her feet to the floor, straddling her lap and placing a palm on either side of her head. ‘I have many fond memories in this office, baby. I wish you had them, too.’ I dip, touching her nose with mine, loving the feel of her breathy pants hitting my face. ‘But I’m going to love making more.’ I place my hand between her thighs, going in for the kill. I’m too wound up to resist. Last night has only made me hungrier for her. And besides, I know my wife well enough to know when she wants it, and she wants it now. ‘Spread them.’