Beneath This Man (This Man Trilogy), Page 21

  ‘Ava, does it matter?’ he’s annoyed.

  ‘Yes.’ I retort quickly. No, actually, it doesn’t, but his short, huffy answer is prickling my curiosity.

  ‘It wasn’t regular.’ He’s doing his best to avoid this.

  ‘That didn’t answer my question.’

  ‘Is anything I tell you going to change the way you feel about me?’

  That question has me prickling further. What has he done? ‘No.’ I say, but I’m not so sure now. He clearly thinks it will.

  ‘So, can we drop it? It’s in my past with a whole heap of other stuff, and I would rather leave it there.’ His tone is final. I feel slighted. ‘There is only you. End of.’ He kisses the back of my head. ‘When are we moving you in?’

  I groan inwardly. He fucked that sense into me as well. I notice all of this so called sense he’s fucking into me, only makes sense to him. ‘I’m here.’ I remind him.

  ‘I mean your stuff,’ he pinches my nipple. ‘Don’t be clever.’

  I roll my eyes. I need to retrieve the rest of my stuff from Matt, and I have a ridiculous amount of clothes at Kate’s, even after my brutal clear out, but I’m still not sure that this is a good idea. ‘I’ve got to pick up the rest of my stuff from Matt.’ Did I really just say that out loud?

  ‘No, you fucking won’t!’ he shouts in my ear, and I recoil at his booming voice. Obviously, I did. ‘I’ll send John. I told you, you won’t see him again.’

  Right, I’m dropping this right now. I’m not going to get anywhere with it; I’m not stupid. John’s not going, and I’ve already arranged it, anyway. He will never know. Well, he will, when I’ve got my stuff, but it will be too late for him to stop me by then.

  I think of something else. ‘Tell me where you went when you disappeared on me.’

  He tenses beneath me. ‘No.’ He spits the word out fast.

  Okay, now I’m getting mad. I turn myself over to lay on his front so he is forced to look me in the eyes. ‘The last time you held back on me, I left you.’

  His eyes widen slightly, but then narrow. He knows I’ve got him. ‘I locked myself in my office.’

  ‘For four days?’ I ask doubtfully.

  ‘Yes, for four days, Ava.’ He looks past me, refusing to meet my eyes.

  ‘Look at me.’ I demand harshly.

  His eyes fly to mine in obvious shock at my order. ‘Excuse me?’ he almost laughs. It’s patronising, and I don’t appreciate it.

  ‘What were you doing in your office?’ I ask. Oh heck, why don’t I just shut the hell up?

  ‘Drinking. There. That’s what I was doing. I was trying to drown out thoughts and images of you with vodka. Are you happy now?’ He tries to shift me from his body, but I tense from top to toe in an attempt to make myself a dead weight.

  He was drinking? Was he unconscious for four days like he was when I found him on Friday? Oh, now I just feel incredibly guilty.

  I fight with him, pushing his slippery body back down into the bath. He gives in and lets me. I know he could overpower me if he wanted to, so he doesn’t really want to escape. I slide my body up his so our noses meet.

  He lifts his eyes. ‘I’m sorry.’ he whispers, and I fall apart all over him, taking his mouth urgently, a silent message that I don’t care. ‘I’m so sorry, baby.’

  ‘Please, don’t.’ I push myself into him, tackling his mouth, desperate for him to know that I couldn’t care less. I feel responsible…guilty.

  ‘When I saw those bruises on your arms, I realised I was in deep, Ava. Way too deep.’

  ‘Shhhh.’ I hush him, covering his whole face with my mouth, kissing every square inch of him. ‘Enough, now.’

  He cups my bum and pulls me up, burying his face between my breasts. ‘It won’t happen again, I’ll kill myself before hurting you again.’

  He doesn’t have to use such strong words. I understand. He’s regretful. I am too. I should never have walked away from him. I should have stayed, thrown him in a cold shower and sobered him up. ‘I said enough, Jesse.’

  ‘I love you.’

  ‘I know you do. I’m sorry too.’

  He releases his hold and I slide back down his body until we’re eye to eye. ‘What have you got to be sorry for?’

  I shrug. ‘I wish I hadn’t left you.’

  ‘Ava, I don’t blame you for walking out on me. I deserved that, and if anything, it will only make me more determined not to drink. Knowing I could lose you is enough of a motivation, trust me.’

  ‘I’ll never walk away from you again. Never.’ I affirm.

  He smiles lightly. ‘I hope you don’t because I’d be finished.’

  ‘I would be finished too.’ I say quietly, running my hands through his hair. I need him to know the feeling is completely mutual.

  ‘Okay, neither of us is walking away. That’s clear.’ He pushes his lips to mine softly.

  ‘Are you hungry?’ I ask against his lips. We need to change the direction of this conversation. We’ve said enough.

  ‘Yes, are you going to cook me a well-balanced meal?’

  I smile around his lips. ‘I’m tired. Can we get a well-balanced take away?’

  ‘Absolutely. You soak, I’ll order dinner.’ He props me up and gets out of the bath.

  Tub talk today has been insightful and strangely satisfying. He’s opening up.

  After a not so well-balanced Chinese takeaway, I curl up on the sofa under Jesse’s arm. He strokes my hair as he watches some MotoGP programme. It’s obviously a passion, judging by the intensity of his concentration on the television. I snuggle and wonder what tomorrow will bring. He’s already negotiated lunch with one of his mind boggling sense fucks. I could refuse, but then I would only be setting myself up for a reminder fuck. Would that be so bad?

  I start to doze off and my semi-conscious mind homes in on his unknown activities at The Manor. Is it really compulsory for me to know every little detail? I believe him when he says I’m the only woman for him, I really do, so picking his brains on ex-lovers is not going to get me anywhere, apart from unreasonably jealous. The thought of him with another woman makes me feel physically sick. He’s a full grown man of a certain age – of which I now know – and a mouthwatering one at that. His sexual conflicts are probably plentiful, but they are in the past, just like he said. Here and now is all that matters, and I am here, and I’m now.

  ‘Come on, lady.’ I’m gathered up into his arms and carried upstairs to bed. I hardly stir as he strips me down and deposits me in his bed, climbing in next to me and pulling me into his hard chest. ‘I love you.’ he whispers, and because speech has evaded me, I just snuggle closer to him.

  I open my eyes and it’s still dark. I’m vaguely aware of the bed vibrating under me, and I’m wet.

  What the hell?

  It takes me a few moments, but when awareness finally hits me, it really hits me hard. I scramble over to flick the lamp on and the light slams into my eyes like gravel. I squint to gain focus and find Jesse sat up in bed rocking back and forth with his knees clenched to his chest. Holy shit, he’s drenched and his pupils are huge black saucers. He looks petrified. I throw myself over to him. Should I cuddle him?

  ‘Jesse?’ I speak quietly, not wanting to startle him. He doesn’t respond. He just continues with the rocking, but then he starts mumbling.

  ‘I need you.’ he says quietly.

  ‘Jesse?’ I place my hand on his arm and shake him gently. He looks so scared. ‘Jesse?’

  ‘I need you, I need you, I need you.’ He repeats the mantra over and over. I want to cry.

  ‘Jesse, please,’ I plead. ‘Stop, I’m here.’ I can’t bear to see him like this. He’s shaking uncontrollably and sweat is pouring from his brow, his frown line by far the deepest I have ever seen it. I try to position myself in his line of sight, but he doesn’t acknowledge me. He just carries on with the rocking and mumbling, staring straight through me. He’s asleep. I pull his legs down away from his body and climb onto his la
p, wrapping my arms around his sodden back, holding him as tight as I can. I don’t know if he is aware, but his arms come up and grip me, and his face buries deep into my neck.

  We sit like this forever. I whisper in his ear, hoping he will recognise me and snap out of his night terror. Is that what this is? I have no idea. He is definitely not awake, I know that much.

  ‘Ava?’ he mumbles in my neck after an age. His voice is cracked and throaty.

  He’s awake. ‘Hey, I’m here.’ I pull back and cup his face with both of my hands. His eyes search mine, looking for something. I’m not sure what.

  ‘I’m so sorry.’

  ‘What are you sorry for?’ He’s worrying me even more now.

  ‘For everything.’ He falls back, taking me with him so I’m lying across his wet chest. My body is soaking, but I don’t care.

  My head rests on his chest and I listen as his heart rate slows. ‘Jesse?’ I say nervously. He doesn’t answer. I lift my head to look at him and see he’s fast asleep, looking peaceful. What was that all about?

  I lay on him for hours, my mind racing with reasons for him to be sorry. Bloody Hell, maybe I am reading too much into this. There’s plenty for him to be sorry for. Lying to me, deceiving me, drink, his unreasonableness, his possessive streak, his neurotic behaviour, trampling my meeting today, his…

  I doze off, running through all of the reasons why Jesse could be sorry.

  Chapter 13

  ‘I love you.’

  I feel familiar lush lips brush over mine as I come round, and I open my eyes to Jesse’s stunning face suspended above me. ‘Wake up my beautiful girl.’

  I raise my arms over my head and stretch. Oh, that feels good. I blink up at him and note he’s dressed. My sleepy brain quickly registers that with Jesse dressed already, there is no danger of being dragged around London on one of his punishing runs.

  ‘What time is it?’ I croak.

  ‘You’re fine, it’s only six thirty. I’ve got a few early supplier meetings at The Manor. I needed to see you before I go.’ He leans down and kisses me, and I get a taste of his minty breath.

  Supplier meetings? What sort of supplies would that be? I snap a lid on those thoughts immediately. It’s too early and anyway, if it is six thirty, then it really does mean it’s too late for a fourteen mile trip around London, so I couldn’t care less what supplies they could be.

  ‘My eyes don’t have to be open for you to see me.’ I complain, as I reach around his back and pull him down. He smells yummy.

  ‘Come and have breakfast with me.’ He pulls me up from the bed, and I wrap my naked body around him in my usual chimp-ish fashion. ‘You’re creasing me.’ he says with zero concern, carrying me out of the bedroom and down to the kitchen.

  ‘Put me down then.’ I bite back. I know he won’t.

  ‘Never,’

  I smile smugly as I absorb him in all of his fresh water loveliness. ‘I don’t need a reminder fuck. You can still come to lunch.’

  ‘Mouth.’ He laughs. ‘I’m sorry. I really needed to see you before I go.’

  I stiffen instantly at his words. Well, one word in particular; sorry. Shit! I had forgotten about his midnight meltdown. Well, not forgotten, it just hadn’t landed in my morning brain yet.

  ‘What’s wrong?’ He’s sensed my sudden tenseness. He places me on the cool marble, but it doesn’t shock me like it did the other morning. I’m too busy searching my brain for the best way to approach this.

  ‘You woke up in the night.’ I inform his concerned face.

  ‘I did?’ His brow furrows, and I don’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed.

  ‘You don’t remember?’ I ask tentatively.

  ‘No.’ he says on a shrug. ‘What do you want for breakfast?’ He leaves me on the counter and goes to the fridge. ‘Eggs, bagel, fruit?’

  Is that it? ‘You said you need me.’ I throw it in the air and hope he catches it.

  He doesn’t. He lets it drop straight to the floor and tramples all over it. ‘And? I say that when I’m awake.’ He doesn’t even turn away from the fridge.

  ‘You said you were sorry.’ I place my hands under my thighs.

  He turns around from the fridge. ‘I’ve said that when I’m awake too.’

  This is true, he’s said it all when he’s awake, but he was in such a state.

  He smiles. ‘Ava, I was probably having a bad dream. I don’t remember.’ He turns back to the fridge.

  ‘You were just a bit frantic, I was worried.’ I say timidly. It wasn’t normal.

  He shuts the fridge door, harder than is really necessary, and I immediately regret bringing this up. I’m not scared of him. I’ve seen him go off at the deep end plenty of times, but the way he is holding himself is making me wary. I don’t want to start a fresh day on a quarrel. It was just sleep talk, after all.

  He wanders over to me chewing his bottom lip, and I watch him with caution. When he reaches me, he muscles between my legs and takes my hands out from under my thighs, holding them between us and stroking the tops with his thumbs.

  ‘Stop worrying about what I say in my sleep. Did I say I didn’t love you?’ he asks softy.

  I feel my brow knit. ‘No.’

  His green eyes twinkle as one side of his mouth tips upwards at the corner. ‘That’s all that matters.’ He plants a kiss on my forehead.

  I pull away from his lips. Yes, actually, it does matter. He’s doing it again. He’s evading. ‘That wasn’t normal. And I’m getting pissed off hearing that tone.’ I scowl, real hard, and he recoils in shock, his mouth gaping slightly, but I don’t give him a chance to come back at me. ‘You either talk, or I’m gone.’

  His gaping mouth shuts, but he still doesn’t speak. I’ve shocked him.

  I raise cocky eyebrows at him. ‘What’s it to be?’

  ‘You said you’d never leave me.’ he says quietly.

  ‘Okay. Let me rephrase that. I won’t leave you if you start answering me when I ask you something. How about that?’

  He’s chewing his lip and staring at me, but I don’t look away. I maintain the eye contact and keep a deadly serious face. His thumb strokes become firmer. ‘It’s not important.’

  I laugh in disbelieve and make to move, but he moves in closer, hampering my attempts to get myself down from the counter. ‘Jesse, I’ll walk away.’ I so won’t, I know this.

  ‘I dreamt you were gone.’ He fires the words out quickly, almost panicky.

  I stop with my struggle to free myself. ‘What?’

  ‘I dreamt I woke up, and you were gone.’

  ‘Gone where?’

  ‘I don’t fucking know,’ He releases his grip of me and his hands plunge straight into his hair. ‘I couldn’t find you.’

  ‘You dreamt I left you?’

  His frown line is fierce. ‘I don’t know where you went. Just gone.’

  ‘Oh.’ I don’t know what else to say. He won’t look at me. He got himself in that state over me leaving him?

  ‘It wasn’t a nice dream, that’s all.’ He’s embarrassed, and I suddenly feel a little guilty. This is a serious hang up.

  ‘I’m not leaving you,’ I try to reassure him, ‘but we’ve got to talk. I have to torture information out of you, Jesse. It’s exhausting.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’

  I reach forward and pull him back between my thighs. This is one of those moments – the ones where I’m the strong one. They are becoming more frequent as I’m working out this man. ‘Have you had bad dreams before?’

  ‘No.’ He accepts my hold and squeezes me tight to him.

  ‘Because you drank.’

  ‘No, Ava. I’m not an alcoholic.’

  ‘I didn’t say you were.’ I hold him tightly, feeling a little sad for him, but quietly pleased that he’s opened up. He is so strong and self-assured, but these little cracks are becoming more obvious. Am I making these cracks?

  ‘Can I make you a well-balanced breakfast now?’ He pulls out
from my clinch.

  ‘Yes, please.’

  ‘What do you want?’

  I shrug. ‘Toast.’

  ‘Toast?’ he asks questioningly. I nod. It’s six thirty in the morning. My stomach hasn’t woken up yet. ‘It’s hardly well-balanced.’ he mutters.

  ‘It’s too early to eat.’

  ‘No, it’s not. You’ll eat. You’re too thin.’ He releases me and goes to put some bread in the toaster.

  I lower myself down from the island and take a seat on a stool to admire him as he faffs around the kitchen. I’m touched. He openly admits he’s crap at cooking so the fact he has offered to make me breakfast is quite pleasing. Resting my elbows on the worktop, I sit my chin in my palms and study him. He had a bad dream. Or nightmare. Either or, though, he told me, and that must have been hard. He’s a big, strapping man who was reduced to a cowering mess by a bad dream. I hope they are not frequent because it was horrible seeing him like that – scared and vulnerable. I didn’t like it

  I sigh to myself. He looks as handsome as ever this morning. He’s not shaved, and I love the one day stubble on him. He’s hasn’t got a full suit on, just charcoal grey trousers and a black shirt. I might change my mind about lunch so he is forced to give me a reminder fuck.

  I watch him gather the butter, knives and plates and place everything in front of me on the island. Then he goes back to the fridge, returning to sit next to me with a jar of peanut butter. I look at him in disbelief as he unscrews the lid and dunks his finger in.

  He wraps his lips around his coated finger and looks at me with it half hanging out of his luscious mouth. ‘What?’ he mumbles.

  ‘You’re giving me a hard time about a well-balanced breakfast?’ I flick my gaze to the jar in his hand.

  He swallows. ‘Nuts are very healthy. And anyway, you’re more important than me.’

  I shake my head and start spreading butter on my toast as he watches me. ‘You’re important to me.’ I grumble to my toast. I look up at him as I wrap my teeth around the corner.

  He smiles. ‘I’m glad. So, what’s in your diary today?’ he asks nonchalantly as he dips his finger again.