With This Man (This Man 4)

Her legs split open immediately, and before I have the chance to kiss her, she’s kissing me. I’m attacked with brutal force, her body up out of the chair faster than is wise, yet I’m in no position to stop her. I sit her on the desk, putting myself between her thighs. While her mouth devours mine, her frantic hands work the button of my fly, yanking impatiently, small growls backing up her frustrated, fumbling fingers. I smile around our kiss, my grip of her hair gentle, contradicting her force. I rip my lips away from her, finding her eyes. She looks drunk.

I draw back and pull up my T-shirt over my head. ‘Who has the power, baby?’

‘You,’ she murmurs, reaching for the waist of my jeans and tugging me forward. Her hand soon finds my cock, pulling it free and squeezing gently. I’m so fucking thrilled that she still knows that. Still feels it. Still wants me with a craving she can’t control. I am her god.

Jesus. This woman rules me. Controls me. She keeps my blood chasing through my veins, my heart beating, my soul pure. And right now, she doesn’t even know it. She needs reacquainting with the feelings that always cripple us. That take us to heights no one could ever understand. The feelings that make us us. I think she’s more or less there already. Even before this moment. Even before we made love. Even if she’s confused by our connection and the natural reactions we have to each other. They’re all still there inside her, there to be uncovered.

‘I’m going to fuck you to—’

I’m interrupted from finishing my promise when the door of the office flies open. And there’s only a split second before a shocked yelp penetrates the room. ‘Oh my God, I’m so sorry!’

I just catch sight of a distressed-looking Cherry before the door slams, leaving us alone again.

‘Oh God, how embarrassing!’ Ava scrambles up from the desk with the help of my hand. ‘Who was that?’

‘Cherry.’ I steady Ava on her feet and push her hair from her eyes on a smile. She’s all in a fluster, and it’s sexy as hell.

‘Who’s Cherry?’

‘She works for us. Wait there.’ I head to the door, damning myself for not locking it. Fucking hell, I’m charged.

‘Jesse?’ Ava calls, and I turn, finding her pointing at my groin area as she dips to collect the things we’ve knocked from the desk. ‘You might want to put yourself away. And maybe put your T-shirt back on.’ She throws it to me and I catch it, looking down at my crotch.

Shit, I’m hanging out all over the place. I hear her chuckle as I continue to the door, tucking my cock into my boxers and fastening my jeans. Swinging the door open, I find Cherry standing outside, her cheeks crimson.

Her gaze drops to my chest, her body visibly softening. ‘Oh, there it is,’ she whispers under her breath.

‘What?’

She snaps out of her little trance and looks up at me. ‘Good to see you, Jesse.’ The tone of her voice is effortlessly husky, and her eyes are flashing delightedly. She smiles, giving me the once-over again, hugging the files to her chest. The pressure pushes her tits up. Again, not that I’m purposely looking. They’re kinda just . . . there.

I ignore her blatant flirting, looking past her down the corridor when I hear the sound of footsteps – heavy footsteps that can belong to only one man. John strides towards us, his signature shades firmly in place. ‘Cherry,’ he rumbles, nodding sharply at the woman outside my office before turning his eyes on me. ‘What are you doing here?’

‘We’re not staying.’ I pull my T-shirt on as I back up into the office to let them in, ignoring the grin on Cherry’s face.

John spots Ava at her desk, his smooth forehead crinkling a little. ‘Hey, girl.’

‘Hey,’ she says quietly, looking past me to the woman who’s on the threshold of her office. She also looks wary. Maybe a little pissed off, and it’s not because Cherry put the blockers on our moment.

I quickly move aside when Cherry wanders in, her arm brushing mine. ‘It’s lovely to see you, Ava.’ She reaches the desk and smiles brightly at my wife, who looks at her with a little suspicion.

‘Sure it is,’ she mumbles, all hostile. ‘Would you mind giving us five minutes?’ she says to Cherry, the question sounding like anything but a question, her tone flat, her smile sickly sweet.

‘Of course.’ Cherry backs away, turning and sashaying to the door. She definitely straightens her back on the way, and she definitely has a little pouty-lips thing going on. Fucking hell.

I roll my eyes and face my annoyed wife. Maybe annoyed is an understatement. Seething seems more appropriate. She isn’t a happy girlie. And I’m thrilled. She cocks her head in question, and I just shrug. What can I say?

‘I’ve given Cherry a few more responsibilities in Ava’s absence,’ John says, maybe a little cautiously. ‘Sorry if I’ve upset you, girl.’

‘Don’t worry,’ Ava grumbles moodily. ‘It’s not like I can remember how to do my job, anyway.’ She picks up a few bits of paper from the floor and scans them before chucking them back on the desk and dropping to the chair.

‘The accounts need to be kept in check, membership fees collected, creditors paid,’ the big man continues, showing a rare pacifying side.

‘You don’t need to be worrying about work at the moment.’ I join John in his attempts to make Ava feel better, because despondency over work isn’t good when she’s spouting off shit about other jobs. Over my dead body. ‘We need to focus on getting you well.’

Her scowl is pointed at me, though I know she’s more annoyed with herself. ‘I feel fine,’ she grumbles, pushing herself to her feet. ‘And I also don’t need to be worried about some hussy coming on to my husband.’

John coughs, and I smile like a madman on the inside. She’s not only being possessive over me, which alone is thrilling, she’s also being possessive over her job. This is good. She can quit with the stupid idea of getting another one. ‘No woman turns my head unless it is my wife,’ I remind her, wandering over and collecting her hand. ‘You know that.’

Her over-the-top pout is so adorable. She wants reassurance. I’ll give it, all day every day. I hope we once again get to the point when she doesn’t need it any more. ‘I know that.’ She puts herself in my chest, her arms slipping around my back, her cheek squished against my T-shirt. ‘For such an old man, you’re in high demand, Jesse Ward.’

I recoil, and John laughs his laugh that’s capable of shaking a building. ‘Go home,’ he chuckles, making for the door. ‘I’m keeping Cherry in check.’

‘Thanks, John.’ I wrestle Ava from my front and turn her, leading her to the door. ‘Old?’

Her shoulders jump under my palms. ‘Your age doesn’t seem to be making the slightest bit of difference to the attention you get. That Cherry must be ten years younger than me.’

‘You being all possessive?’ I kiss her cheek as we walk back to the main floor of the gym, me tailing her, her hands now resting over mine where they lay on her shoulders. ‘Because I like it.’

She comes to a stop, and her body starts jerking a little under my touch. Worried, I round her. She has the biggest smile on her face.

‘What?’ I ask.

Lifting her arm, she points, prompting me to look over my shoulder. ‘Rowing machines,’ she says, definite humour edging her tone, though it’s obvious she’s unsure why, a small frown marring her smile when I return my attention to her.

‘What’s so funny?’ I ask.

‘I don’t know.’ She shakes her head. ‘Do you like rowing?’

I grin, looking back at the machines, thinking they’ve developed a lot over the years. There’s no way I could execute the perfect slide and hit on one of those things. I’m so glad I kept my old one. ‘We love rowing.’

‘We do?’ She seems surprised by the revelation. ‘Am I good at it?’

I chuckle to myself, feeling my eyes spark with revived fire. ‘You’re very good at it

.’

‘What, like all romantic, rowing-on-the-river type of thing? Sunshine, peace and gooey romantic words?’ Her eyes gleam. I’m about to burst her idyllic bubble.

My palm creeping across her shoulders, I pull her into my side and start walking us away from the rowing machines. ‘Not quite like that.’ I feel her look up at me in question, prompting me to go on. ‘Our rowing is very unique.’

‘Why doesn’t that surprise me? So, come on, then. How do we row?’

I nod at a few patrons as they pass, the men wiping their sweaty brows with towels. ‘It involves me sitting on the seat and you sitting on me.’

‘On those things?’ she questions, stopping us and turning to inspect the machines again. ‘How is that even possible?’

‘I don’t think it is.’ I look down at her, grinning, and take her hand, tugging her back over. ‘Come on, let’s try.’

Her resistance is instant, her spare hand wrapped around my wrist trying to stop me, her feet digging in. ‘Jesse.’ She’s laughing, but it’s loaded with nerves. ‘We’re in the middle of the gym floor.’

‘So?’ My strength will always win, and I have her where I want her within a few seconds. Her dark eyes scan the length of metal, worry written all over that gorgeous face. Keeping hold of her hand, I lower myself to the seat and pat my thigh. ‘All aboard,’ I tease, and she bursts into fits of giggles, the sound saturating the space around us.

‘Stop it.’

‘No.’ I yank her forward and have her straddling my lap before she can protest again, her torso locked to my chest, our cheeks pressed together. ‘It goes something like this,’ I say quietly in her ear, using my feet to glide us down the railing. ‘Slide.’ I whisper the word and then launch us back up until our bodies jolt at the other end.

‘And hit,’ she finishes for me. The impact of her chest crushing to mine, her groin rubbing into me, the words that have come from deep within her. It’s a potent cocktail, causing wild activity past the fly of my jeans, activity that my wife hasn’t missed. She pulls back, her palms on my shoulders, and tilts her head. ‘Oh dear,’ she murmurs, wickedly grinding her hips into me.

‘Now you stop it,’ I warn, quickly lifting us from the seat before I’m pushed over the edge of control and give endless members of our club a show they won’t forget.

She giggles softly and puts herself in my chest, her hand on my nape pulling my lips down to hers. She kisses me hard. Possessively. I’m taken aback, but in no way complaining. ‘What was that for?’ I ask when she slows the roll of her searching tongue.

‘Just felt like kissing you.’ She pulls back, pouting. ‘I’m allowed, right?’

‘Stupid fucking question.’ I turn us to get us on our way, coming face to face with Cherry.

‘Oh.’ Ava moves into my side, clinging onto my arm. ‘Sorry, I didn’t see you there.’

Cherry’s smile is pushed through gritted teeth, and I sigh, tugging Ava along before she moves into true trampling mode. I flip a tired look down at her as we take the stairs.

‘What?’ she asks, all innocent and pouty.

‘Nothing.’ I fight to keep my grin contained. It’s hard.

Because I’ve just been marked.

Chapter 31

‘You need to sleep.’

‘I want you to finish what you started in the office.’ There’s fire in her eyes. Pure, possessive fire. I smile on the inside. But, and it pains me to say it, she needs rest. I’m taking too much out of her. ‘Bed.’

She gazes up at me as we slowly take the stairs, too many wicked intentions spilling from the depths of her dark eyes. ‘I want a bath.’

‘Jesus, Ava, are you trying to finish me off?’ Wet, slippery skin won’t help my cause.

On a little chuckle, her head meets my bicep, and I notice her steps becoming more laboured as we reach the top of the stairs. ‘You can scrub my back.’

‘You’re evil.’ Entering the bathroom, I eye the huge marble bath like I hate it. She’ll be lost in there all alone. Maybe I could join her, because I could easily get away with not touching her if I stay way on the other side.

‘It’s massive.’ She breaks away from me and starts drawing herself a bath, picking up a bottle of bubble bath from the side and taking it to her nose, inhaling before adding a massive dose to the running water.

‘We like having baths.’ I move across to the cream crushed-velvet chair that sits in the corner and put my big body in it. ‘You picked the tub.’

She takes in the mammoth thing, humming to herself. ‘It’s very me.’

‘It’s very me, too, especially when you’re in it.’

She keeps her eyes on the filling bath. ‘So you’re just going to sit there and watch me?’ She slowly pulls her sundress over her head and takes her underwear off.

Fuck. Me.

I press myself into the back of the chair, every muscle solid in an attempt to stop from shooting up and tackling her to the floor. She’s playing games. ‘Ava, don’t tease me.’

With her chin on her shoulder, she coyly glances over at me. It’s wonderful to see my temptress showing signs of returning to her former glory. Yet it’s agony that I can’t utilise it to its fullest. ‘I want you to have a bath with me.’

‘I don’t trust myself.’

‘Didn’t bother you last night.’

I scrub my palms down my face, hanging on to my resistance. She wants me. ‘You’re overdoing it.’

‘I feel fine.’ Her brown eyes, shimmering and bright, reinforce her claim, and the sense of satisfaction is unreal, but . . . still.

I shake my head since my mouth refuses to decline, and fold my arms over my chest.

‘Suit yourself.’ She shrugs her naked shoulders and steps into the tub as it continues to fill.

I’m not a happy man. But I just can’t deprive myself of the pleasure of looking at her. Admiring her. Thinking about how crazily I love her. So fucking much. Even now, when she’s not quite fully mobile, her moves are graceful. She carries herself with a subtle power that has awed me since the day she wandered into my office. She is, quite simply, the most enthralling person I’ve ever encountered. And she’s mine. Beautiful and elegant, with a sprinkling of sass. My head tilts in silent contemplation. A sprinkling of sass? Not if you consider her potty mouth. Then I’m smiling, because I know that potty mouth is enhanced by me. Ironic, really. I’m the catalyst for her foul language – the language that drives me to distraction.

My mind continues to wander as I watch her swishing the water with her feet to build the bubbles. Last night was beyond beautiful. We came together like we’d never been apart, and as she stared up at me while I lazily rocked into her, I knew she felt the overwhelming connection. Maybe I’d hoped our lovemaking would dislodge whatever’s holding back her memories, but I didn’t dwell on the fact that it didn’t. I was too blindsided to care in that moment.

‘Jesse?’

I’m awakened from my thoughts by the soft call of my name, and I find her with her hand held out to me.

‘Please.’

How can I refuse? Simply put, I can’t. I get up and strip down, drawn to her by an invisible force that’s magic in its power. Taking her hand, I step in the bath and walk her forward a few paces, and then lower myself, bringing Ava carefully down with me until she’s snug between my thighs.

‘We’ll have some tub-talk.’ I take her hair and push it over her shoulder and down her front. ‘You think you can resist me?’

‘No.’ Her arms come up over her head and circle my neck, her head resting to the side, her eyes closing. ‘What’s Paradise?’ she asks, the question coming from left field. ‘I keep seeing blue sea and . . .’ She pauses for a beat, thinking. ‘I think it’s a villa.’

I recline and slide my hands onto her tummy. ‘It’s a special place. We got married there.’

‘You told me we got married at your fancy sex club.’ Her eyes remain closed, only confirming the exhaustion she’s trying to fight.

‘We did. And then we renewed our vows on the beach.’ I smile fondly. ‘And then I took you for a swim in the sea.’

‘Sounds romantic.’ Her legs entwine with mine, slippery skin on slippery skin. ‘Tell me how old you are.’

Before I can utter a lie again, I give pause, wondering if it will truly mean anything to her if I continue with this game. So far, it hasn’t spiked a damn thing in her mind. I chew over my next move for way too long and finally decide to bite the bullet. ‘I just turned fifty.’

I don’t know what to expect. Maybe a gasp of shock. Or horror. Or . . . I don’t know, but the silence seems worse, because no shock means I must fucking look my age.

Long seconds pass. Still no reaction. Maybe she’s fallen asleep. Or maybe she didn’t hear me. Or maybe she thinks she didn’t hear me right. ‘I said, I’m fif—’

‘I heard you.’ Cutting me off, she opens her eyes and looks up at me. ‘I already knew. I just wanted to see how long you’d keep up the blatant lies.’

She knew? ‘How?’

‘Kate told me.’ She returns to her comfy spot and sighs, while I plot my revenge on Kate. ‘So I guess that means I don’t need to handcuff you to a bed this time?’

Kate is forgotten. Hope is back. ‘You remember?’

‘No, Kate told me.’ She chuckles, and I sag in disappointment. ‘I can’t believe I did that to you.’

‘Neither could I,’ I grumble, absent-mindedly tracing circles on her hips with the tips of my fingers, relishing her subtle squirms.