Beneath This Man (This Man Trilogy)

  ‘Fuck! Ava, fucking fuck, fuck, fuck!’ he yells, but his eyes are still firmly closed. I can’t make him look at me, but I’ll make damn sure he hears me. I return the vibrator to myself and rest the drumming head at the top of my clitoris.

  Holy fucking shit!

  I gasp, my knees shaking, as I jerk at the full force of its power stabbing me straight at my core. ‘Ohhhhhhh, Goddddd!’ I moan, and then increase the pressure slightly. That feels really nice.

  His eyes snap open, his breathing all over the place and a heavy shimmer of sweat has formed a river in the crease on his forehead. His face is pure torture. I almost feel guilty.

  ‘Ava, all of your pleasure comes from me.’

  ‘Not today.’ I muse, closing my eyes on a sigh.

  ‘Ava!’ he barks, clanging the cuffs against the headboard. ‘Fuck! Ava, you’re pushing it!’

  I keep my eyes closed. ‘Hmmm.’ I hum, jerking slightly as the consistent vibrations tickle the tip of my clit.

  ‘I’m thirty seven! For fuck sake woman, I’m thirty fucking seven!’

  My eyes fly open.

  Oh my God!

  My mouth drops in shock and the vibrator falls to the bed. He told me? It bloody worked! I want to do a little jig on the bed and scream to the heavens in glory. Why didn’t I think of this before? I’m not going to try and kid myself that I will get away with this again – he’ll probably sleep with one eye open for the rest of his life, so perhaps I should take advantage of his vulnerable state and pump him for some more answers, like where that scar came from, how many women there have been and what the hell the police are doing at The Manor. Oh and the mystery woman and Sarah…

  He glares at me, and I’m suddenly yanked straight out of my mental celebration dance and right into panic.

  ‘Take…the…fucking…cuffs…off.’ He emphasises each word slowly on a hiss.

  Oh bloody hell. In all of my meticulous planning and execution of the truth fuck, I hadn’t given a second thought to the aftermath. He’s seething mad, and now I’ve got to release him. What is he going to do? I sprint through my options, but it doesn’t take long because there are only two; release him and take my punishment, or leave him handcuffed to the bed forever.

  I watch him with wide, cautious eyes as he watches me with dark, furious ones. What am I going to do? I place my hands on his strong thighs and inch myself up his body until my face is hovering above his. I need to lighten his mood.

  Smoothing my hands through his hair, I drop my lips onto his. ‘I still love you.’ I mumble around my kiss. Maybe it’s the reassurance he needs. Eleven years is nothing really. What’s the problem? He’s still my handsome, roguish God.

  He moans as I give his mouth some extra special treatment. ‘Good, now take the cuffs off.’

  I kiss my way to his neck and nuzzle. ‘Are you mad at me?’

  ‘Fucking crazy mad, Ava!’

  I sit up and look at him. He really is crazy mad, and now I’m shitting myself. I give him my best cheeky grin. ‘Can’t you be crazy in love?’

  ‘I’m that too. Remove the cuffs.’ He looks at me expectantly.

  I shift to ease myself up and shudder when his arousal falls to my opening, the throbbing, wet head slipping over my entrance.

  He bucks. ‘Damn it, Ava! Take the fucking cuffs off!’ He is completely deranged and now I know…I’m not taking the cuffs off. I get off the bed and stand at the side, looking at him rage.

  ‘What are you going to do?’ I ask nervously.

  ‘Take them off.’ He looks almost murderous.

  ‘Not until you tell me what you’re going to do.’

  His breathing is heavy, his chest expanding. ‘I’m going to fuck you until you beg me to stop, and then you’re going to run fourteen miles,’ He raises his head and stabs me with ferocious greens. ‘And we won’t be stopping for a muscle rub or a coffee break!’

  What? I’ll take the fuck, but I’m not running anywhere, except out of his penthouse. He’s already made me do ten miles yesterday. That will be his way of regaining control; making me do something that I really don’t want to do, and I definitely don’t want to run fourteen miles.

  ‘I don’t want to go for a run.’ I state as calmly as I can. ‘You can’t make me.’

  His eyebrows jump up. ‘Ava, you need to remember who holds the power in this relationship.’

  I back away in disgust and then flick my eyes to his restrained wrists before returning them to him. ‘I’m sorry, who has the power?’ I say in a mocking tone that I really didn’t mean. I am seriously poking the rattle snake, but that little statement has really got my back up.

  My sarcasm only serves to notch his fury level up a little more – if that was possible. ‘Ava, I’m warning you!’

  ‘I can’t believe you’re being so cranky over this. It was okay for you to handcuff me!’

  ‘I was in control!’ he yells back at me.

  Ah! So all of this is just about him being in control? That’s stupid! ‘You’re a power freak!’ I shout back, and he wriggles a little more. ‘I’m going to get a shower.’ I stomp off.

  ‘I’m only a power freak with you!’ he yells at my back. ‘Ava!’

  I slam the bathroom door and remove my bra. The arrogant, power obsessed, controlling arse! My delight in the fact that my truth fuck worked has been well and truly trampled. I throw myself in the shower and listen to my name being yelled repeatedly. If I wasn’t so affronted, I would laugh. He really doesn’t like not being able to touch me and he really, really doesn’t like relinquishing power.

  I shower and brush my teeth at a leisurely rate. It’s still super early. I have plenty of time.

  When I walk back into the bedroom, I find Jesse has calmed down slightly, but there is definitely still a hint on anger in his expression as he looks up at me.

  ‘Baby, come and free me, please.’ he pleads.

  His sudden turn in mood has me suspicious and on my guard. I know his game, and I’m not falling for it. As soon as I free him, he’ll be on me like a lion before manhandling me into my running kit and dragging me around the streets of London. I’m not denying that I would love to have him all over me right this minute, but I’m not hanging about to be tortured by fourteen miles. Unfortunately, they come as a package deal.

  I sit myself in front of the floor length mirror to start drying my hair. I glance in the reflection every now and again and see him watching me, but he just scowls and throws his head back like a brooding schoolboy whenever I catch him. I smile to myself.

  I apply my make-up and smother myself in coco butter and when I put on the cream lace underwear set that Jesse bought me, I hear him whimper. I smile smugly to myself. I may as well. I don’t know how long I’m going to be holding this power. I slip my white ruffle blouse on with my black, slim fit trousers and black heels.

  I’m ready. I walk over to my handcuffed man and lean down to drop a long, lingering kiss onto his parted lips. I don’t know why I’m doing this. My bravado is commendable.

  He sighs and brings his knees up so the soles of his feet are flat on the bed.

  I reach down and wrap my hand around his still erect cock. I’m seriously in for it when he catches me.

  He jerks. ‘Ava. I love you so fucking much, but if you don’t undo these cuffs, I’m going to fucking strangle you!’ His voice is a mixture of pleasure and pain.

  I smile around his mouth and give him a chaste kiss on the lips before leaning down and kissing my way from his chest to his solid cock, and then all the way to the tip, finishing off with a little swirl before taking him deep into my mouth.

  ‘Ava, please!’ he moans.

  I release him and retrieve the key to the handcuffs from the chest of drawers. As I walk back over, he lets out a relieved breath. I don’t know why, I’m not freeing him completely. I undo his damaged hand and it falls limply to the bed. A pang of guilt assaults me as he gingerly flexes his fist to try and get some life back into it. I walk over to th
e chest and place the key back on top.

  ‘What are you doing?’ he asks on a frown.

  ‘Where is your phone?’

  ‘Why?’ The confusion in his face is clear.

  ‘You’ll need it. Where is it?’

  ‘It’s in my suit jacket. Ava, just give me the key.’ He’s losing his patience again.

  I scan the room and spot his jacket on the floor where he obviously dumped it last night before he pounced on me in the bathroom. I find his phone in the inside pocket and place it on the bedside table, just out of reach. I don’t want him calling for assistance before I make my escape.

  I fetch my bag and stride out of the bedroom, leaving him a massive mess of unexploded male. I am so going to cop it later, but at least I released one hand. It might be his damaged one, but he’ll be able to sort himself out… if he doesn’t grip too hard.

  Chapter 11

  ‘Hello, flower.’ Patrick comes out of his office as I take my seat. ‘You’re bright and early this morning.’ He sits on the edge of my desk and performs his usual snort of disgust as the desk performs its usual creak of protest. ‘What have you got to tell me?’

  ‘Not much,’ I turn my computer on. ‘I have a meeting with Mr Van Der Haus at lunchtime to go over my designs.’

  ‘Oh, Good. What about Mr Ward?’ he asks innocently. ‘Have you heard from him yet?’

  Yes, I’ve handcuffed him to his bed!

  I feel my face flood with heat. ‘Urhhh, no, I’m not sure when he’s back from his business trip.’ I turn my flaming face away from Patrick and load my email up, mentally praying he leaves it right there.

  ‘It has been nearly two weeks, hasn’t it?’ he asks. I suspect he is frowning, but I can’t look at him to confirm that. ‘I wonder what’s keeping him.’

  I cough. ‘I really don’t know.’

  Patrick rises from my desk on a long creak. ‘He can’t be in that much of a rush.’ he grumbles. ‘Oh, by the way, our Sally is poorly. She won’t be in today.’ he says as he makes his way back into his office.

  Sally is ill? That’s not like her. Oh! It was her second date last night. Either it went very well and she’s pulling a sicky to cavort in bed all day with Mr Mystery, or it went very badly and she’s pulled a sicky to mope in bed all day with a box of tissues. I guiltily suspect it’s the latter. Poor Sal.

  I sag in my chair on a long exhale, and then jump when I hear Angel seeping from my bag. Oh dear Lord. He’s obviously freed himself. I’m not answering it. It rings off and immediately rings again, but it’s my normal ringtone this time. I scoop my phone from my bag and take Miss Quinn’s call.

  ‘Good morning, Miss Quinn.’ I greet cheerfully.

  ‘Hi, Ava. Please, it’s Ruth. I was just checking in. Have you managed to get the ball rolling yet?’

  ‘Yes, I’ve prepared a schedule of fees for my services, Ruth, and I’ve drafted a few ideas to send over.’

  ‘Brilliant.’ She is very enthusiastic. ‘I’ll look forward to receiving them. Where do we go from there?’

  ‘Well, if you are happy with my fee structure and draft ideas, then we can start putting together some firm designs.’

  ‘Great, I’m so excited!’ she exclaims.

  I smile. That much is obvious. ‘Okay, I’ll get the fee structure and drafts over to you by the end of play today. Bye, Ruth.’

  ‘Thanks, Ava.’ She hangs up, and I immediately set about scanning the designs into my computer. I love working with people who are as passionate about their home as I am.

  As ten o’clock hits, I’ve been in the office for three hours and I’ve got mountains of work done. I pick up my desk phone to chase Stella, my curtain maker, on Mrs Stiles’ new drapes. I have a nice chat with Stella. She’s a bit hippy and a naturist, judging by the dicey photographs scattered across the walls of her workshop, but she makes the most amazing soft furnishings. I’m more than pleased when she tells me that she is just packaging them up, ready for me to collect. It’s a week sooner than I quoted Mrs Stiles, so she will be delighted.

  I hang up and swing back around in my chair, nearly having a seizure when I’m confronted with my arrogant God, who’s looking down at me with raised, cunning eyebrows. His handsome face spreads into his customary roguish grin. I’m instantly on high alert.

  Oh no!

  He looks bloody delicious as well, in his grey suit and pale blue shirt, open at the collar with no tie. He’s shaved his two days’ worth of stubble and fixed his hair. My eyes are delighted, but my mind is racing with uncertainties.

  ‘How lovely to see you, Ava.’ he says smoothly as he reaches forward and puts his hand out. His jacket sleeve rides up, revealing his gold Rolex.

  Shit!

  I go stone cold when I see a collection of red welts around his wrist, the gold strap of his watch doing nothing to conceal them. It’s his damaged hand too. I flick my startled eyes up to him and he nods in acknowledgment. I mentally kick my stupid self around the office. I’ve hurt him. I feel hideous. I don’t blame him for being so furious.

  I place my hand in his, but I don’t grip it. I don’t want to hurt him anymore. ‘I’m so sorry.’ I whisper the words quietly, my voice full of the regret I truly feel. My unreasonable desire to know his age has marked him. I really am going to be in for it.

  ‘I know you are.’ he answers coldly.

  ‘Ah! Mr Ward.’ Patrick’s cheerful voice invades my ears as he approaches my desk from his office. I release my hold of Jesse. ‘How very good to see you. I was just asking Ava if she had heard from you.’

  ‘Mr Peterson, how are you?’ Jesse gives him his full on melt worthy smile, usually reserved for women.

  ‘Very good, how was your business trip?’ Patrick asks.

  Jesse’s eyes swing to mine briefly before returning to Patrick’s. ‘I secured my assets.’ he replies, completely composed.

  Assets?

  ‘Did you receive the deposit I made?’ he asks.

  Patrick’s face lights up. ‘Yes, absolutely. Thank you.’ he confirms. I notice he doesn’t advise Mr Ward that it is far too much for an initial upfront payment.

  ‘Good, as I said before, I’m eager to get things moving. My unexpected business trip has put us a bit behind.’ He accentuates unexpected.

  ‘Of course, I’m sure Ava will sort you out.’ Patrick places his hand on my shoulder affectionately, and Jesse’s eyes fall straight onto it.

  Oh no. Don’t trample my boss!

  ‘I’m sure she will.’ he muses quietly, his eyes still firmly fixed on Patrick’s unmoved hand.

  He’s sixty years old, silver haired and about five stone overweight. He surely can’t be threatened by my big, cuddly bear of a boss?

  He shoots his eyes back to Patrick. ‘I was going to ask Ava if she would like to join me for some brunch so we can go over a few things. You don’t mind.’

  That last part was definitely not a question. Oh yes, he’s trampling.

  ‘Be my guest.’ Patrick chirps happily. I notice he doesn’t ask me.

  ‘Actually, I have an appointment at lunchtime.’ I pipe up. I point to the page in my new diary which is absent of the big, black, permanent marker pen lines that Jesse put through every day of my last diary. I want to hold off on this altercation for as long as possible. I’m not at all comfortable with that wily look all over his face. He’s loving this, but then he catches a glimpse of my new diary and frowns, his jaw ticking slightly.

  Yes, I replaced it! He better not even think about sabotaging my new one.

  ‘That’s not until noon.’ Jesse points out, and I cringe. ‘I won’t keep you too long.’ he adds on a husky, promising voice that also harbours a bit of threat.

  ‘There you go!’ Patrick sings as he walks off to his office. ‘It was nice to see you, Mr Ward.’

  I sit tapping my front tooth frantically with my nail while I try to think of a way out of this. There is none, and even if I had a valid reason, I would only be delaying the inevitable. I gaze
up at the man who I love beyond measure, and I am literally trembling. He is playing it far too cool. It’s a million miles away from the raging beast I left handcuffed to the bed this morning.

  ‘Shall we?’ he asks, as he puts his hands in his pockets. I collect my phone from my desk and stuff it in my bag, along with my file for The Life Building. I’ll need to head straight to The Royal Park for my meeting with Mikael after my meeting with Jesse.

  He holds the door open for me, and Tom comes barreling through before I have a chance to exit. His eyes go all wide and shocked when he clocks who’s holding the door.

  ‘Mr Ward!’ he splutters, and then throws me a questioning look. It’s ridiculous for him to be addressing Jesse so formally. He’s been out drinking and dancing with him.

  ‘Tom.’ Jesse nods, all business like.

  ‘I’m just going for a breakfast meeting with Mr Ward.’ I tilt my head to the side and flash a telling look. I hear Jesse laugh lightly.

  ‘Oh, I see. A business meeting, huh?’ Tom chuckles. I could kick him in the shins. He turns to Jesse and holds his hand out. ‘It was nice to see you, Mr Ward. I hope you enjoy your business meeting.’ He winks as Jesse takes his hand, and I decide there and then that when I next see Tom, I will kick him in the shins.

  I exit hastily onto the street, relieved I’m away from the office and the possibility of being ratted out, but nervous that I am now pretty much at Jesse’s mercy. I’m not deluded enough to think that just because we’re in public he won’t have me pinned against the nearest free wall as soon as he can.

  We walk along, side by side, until we hit Piccadilly. I don’t know where we’re going, but I keep up with him. He makes no attempt to take my hand and he doesn’t speak. I’m getting more apprehensive by the second. I glance up at him and find his face is completely straight and he doesn’t return my gaze, although I know he knows that I’m looking at him.