This Man (This Man 1)

‘How old are you?’

He squeezes my arms. ‘Twenty two,’

I roll my eyes to myself. If he’s twenty two, then I’m Mother Teresa reincarnated. I smile to myself. After what I have just partaken in, it’s not bloody likely. I feel him pull away from me a fraction, a hollow, empty feeling attacking me when he slips out. He leans down, kisses my back and slowly separates us, his skin peeling away from mine gradually. I’m cold.

‘Come here. ’ he whispers, grasping my waist. I notice that it’s not my hips.

I brace my flat palm on the granite and lift myself with his slow persuasion. Christ, it’s like taking a plaster off. When I’ve finally separated my body from the breakfast bar, I turn and face him. My eyes widen when I see he’s hard again. Already? I’m knackered!

He lifts me onto the counter and muscles between my thighs, picking my arms up and draping them over his shoulders before resting his hands on my waist.

He searches my eyes. ‘Are you okay?’

I smile at his handsome face. Isn’t it a bit late to be asking that? ‘Yes. ’

‘Good. ’ He leans in and wraps his arms around me tightly, inhaling in my neck. ‘I’m not finished with you yet. ’

I curl my legs around his tight waist, squeezing with my thighs. ‘I noticed. ’ He’s unendurable. It’s a good job this is casual sex because I couldn’t deal with this on a full time basis. I’d be walking dead – if walking at all.

Author: Jodi Ellen Malpas

‘You have this affect on me. ’ he tells me on a shrug.

It can’t be just me, but I’ll take the compliment. I bury my face in the side of his neck and nuzzle. He smells so good.

‘Are you hungry?’ he asks, pulling back and running his knuckles down my cheek.

I’m not really, even though I’ve not had time to eat all day. I bypassed the canapés in favour of champagne, not wanting to get caught with a mouth full of food in case someone decided that they wanted a chat at Lusso.

‘-ish,’ I shrug.

‘-ish,’ he mouths, the corner of his lips twitching. His eyes twinkle, and I grin. ‘You have a cheeky grin, I love it. ’ He kisses the corner of my mouth.

‘Shit!’ As soon as the word falls from my mouth, I wince.

He leans back, eyes wide. ‘Mouth!’ he grinds, his lips forming a straight line. ‘What’s the matter?’

‘I told Kate I’d be home. ’ I blurt. She hasn’t called, or if she has I’ve not heard my phone. ‘I better call her. She needs my car to visit her Gran in Yorkshire. ’

Shit! Fuck, fuck, fuck! I can swear as much as I like in my head. Damn it. My car’s at Lusso and I’ve had too much champagne to collect it now. Maybe Kate can get it in the morning with the spare keys? No, she can’t. The spare keys are at my old flat with Matt. Oh, for God’s sake! I must get round there to collect my stuff. I’ll have to get a taxi back to Kate’s to give her my keys. She can get the car from Lusso in the morning.

I wriggle to free myself, and he begrudgingly lets go on a frown. Retrieving my bag from by the front door, I rummage through, finding my phone to text Kate and explain the plan, adding a P. S on the end to inform her that there’s no girlfriend. I pull my jeans out of my overnight bag. ‘I’ve got to go. ’

‘Go?’ he booms.

I flinch. ‘I’ve got one set of car keys and Kate needs them. ’ I explain. I shake my jeans out. I won’t bother with underwear, I’m only flying home. I thrust one leg into my jeans and hop around to position myself for the next leg.

He’s moving so fast, I don’t have time to catch the look on his face.

‘Oh!’ I yelp as he propels me into the air and over his shoulder. ‘What are you doing?’ I’m staring straight at his firm, tanned arse as he turns, without a word, and starts stalking across the apartment. ‘Shit! Jesse, put me down!’ He yanks my jeans off of the one leg I managed to get them on, throws them aside and slaps my arse. ‘Ouch!’

‘Mouth!’

I hear the door hit plaster, after being kicked open, and we’re in a bedroom. I notice it’s all black and white in here too. What the hell is he doing? Hasn’t he had enough of me? Have I had enough of him? You would think so.

I’m hauled off of his shoulder, with minimal effort, and flying through the air before landing in a sea of luxurious, white cotton. The first thing I notice is that it smells divine. It smells like him – all fresh water and yummy.

I don’t have time to get over my disorientation. He’s between my thighs in a nanosecond, his erection nudging at my opening, his hands pinning my wrists on either side of my head. His arms are ram-rod straight, supporting his upper body. Jesus, the man can move fast. I’m still not quite sure where I am and how I got here. I do, however, recognise that coiling anticipation lingering deep inside me. Clearly, I’ve not had enough of him.