Beneath This Man (This Man 2)

I could kiss him. I throw my arms around him in gratitude for his forward thinking. I’ve been rubbed back to life, and now I get a Starbucks. The run was worth it. He laughs and stands with me still wrapped around his neck.

‘Stretch your legs.’ he demands softly, unlinking my arms from him. I comply immediately, remembering the last time he told me to stretch after our run – I didn’t. I was too busy being distracted by his unreasonable demand to have me work at The Manor constantly. As a result, I spent all day drawing my foot up to my backside to try and alleviate some of the aching.

He stands and watches me as I see through my muscle stretches. He looks so happy, his eyes twinkling, his frown line nowhere to be seen.

‘Come on.’ He takes my hand and we stroll over to Starbucks, getting served super quick due to the early hour. I’m hungry, but if I eat anything I’m only going to load my body back up with the calories I’ve just burned off. Everything smells so fresh and yummy, though.

‘Do you want something to eat?’ Jesse asks. He must have seen me staring longingly at the pastries.

‘No.’ I answer quickly, dragging my eyes away from the mouthwatering temptations in the glass cabinet.

He smiles and wraps his palm around the back of my neck, pulling me into him and resting his lips on my forehead before turning his attention back to the swooning sales clerk. ‘A cappuccino, extra shot, no chocolate, a strong black coffee and two blueberry muffins, please.’ He smiles brightly at the young girl, who giggles nervously. He returns his eyes to me. ‘Go and get a seat.’

‘I said I wasn’t hungry.’

‘You’ll eat, Ava. End of.’

I shake my head at him, but don’t argue. Instead, I find a window seat and flop down in the leather couch. What a perfect way to start the day, ten mile run aside. I would still take sleepy sex over this, though. I would take sleepy sex over anything.

My mind starts drifting to Jesse’s plea for me to go to The Manor’s party. What sort of party would it be, anyway? Visions of semi-naked people, all milling around, springs to mind, along with hazy, dim lighting and erotic music. Oh yes, and grid-like contraptions, hooks, hoists…whips.

Fucking hell!

It would be like a giant gang-bang with kinky toys! Oh Jesus good Lord above. Not only do I not want to go myself, I’m not that crazy about the thought of Jesse being there either. An assault of jealousy spikes at me repeatedly as I imagine women drooling all over him, trying to entice him with promises of wicked sex. There’s no doubt he is up for a bit of rough, and he’s bloody good at it. Oh God, he’s used to all of that shit. Okay, I’m having complete mental breakdown in Starbucks, and again I’m reminded that he’s had a lot of practice…with sex…and toys…and…

STOP!

What a depressing thought. I saw the look on those women’s faces when I was at The Manor. I was an interloper, and I can imagine the reception I would get if I did go to the party. It certainly wouldn’t be any warmer than my previous visits. I would be, in effect, gatecrashing their gang-bang. This is horrible.

‘Dreaming?’

I pull my eyes from the lush greenness of the park across the road, to the lush greenness of my Lord of the Sex Manor. I smile a really unconvincing smile. I feel depressed and slightly inadequate all of a sudden. And really, really bitter – resentful and consumed with jealousy.

He eyes me suspiciously while arranging the coffees and muffins on the table before ridding himself of the tray and taking a seat opposite me. I start picking at the top of my muffin as I stir my coffee. I know he’s watching me, but I can’t seem to muster up the strength to appear fine. I’m not. We haven’t even talked about The Manor. We haven’t talked about anything really.

‘I’m not coming to the party.’ I say to my cappuccino. ‘I love you, but I can’t do that.’ I add the last bit in the hope of softening the blow. My Lord doesn’t take no well – not from me, anyway.

After a few silent moments pass, I glance up to establish what expression his handsome face is displaying. There’s no rage or scowl, but his frown line has jumped into position and he is chewing his bottom lip, which tells me this is really important to him. If he hits me with another statement like he did during our tub talk last night, I’ll cry.

‘It’s not going to be how you think it will be, Ava.’ he says quietly.

‘How do you mean?’ I ask on a frown. How does he know how I think it will be?

He takes a sip of his coffee and sets it down on the table before shifting forward in his chair and resting his elbows on his knees. ‘Has The Manor ever given you the impression of a seedy sex club?’

‘No.’ I admit. I didn’t even know it was a sex club until I snooped around with Kate and found myself on the third floor. It just looks like a super posh hotel come spa set up. Well, from what I saw, which was not a lot, but that was mainly because I was blinkered by this man sat opposite me.

‘Ava, there won’t be people wandering around naked and propositioning you. You won’t be manhandled up the stairs to the communal room. There are rules.’

Rules? ‘What do you mean by rules?’ I’m frowning again.

He smiles. ‘The only places people are permitted to remove their clothes is in the communal room or one of the private suites. The ground floor, spa and sports facilities are run like any other exclusive resort. I don’t run a brothel, Ava. My members pay a lot of money to enjoy everything The Manor provides, not just the privilege to pursue their sexual preference with likeminded people.’