Total pages in book: 214
Estimated words: 202638 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1013(@200wpm)___ 811(@250wpm)___ 675(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 202638 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1013(@200wpm)___ 811(@250wpm)___ 675(@300wpm)
He collapses on top of me in a sweaty heap and rocks gently against me. ‘My work here is done.’ he pants in my ear.
I lie under his hard, warm body, trying to gather my senses and breath, and wonder if it will always be like this. He gets the results he wants, so yes, it probably will be. I’ve got to learn to deal with this. I’ve got to train myself to repel him. I laugh at such a pointless exercise. I don’t want to repel him.
He pushes himself up on his hands and it’s only now I notice he doesn’t wince. ‘Your hand!’ I cry.
He lifts it up and I can still see slight bruising, but the swelling has subsided massively. ‘It’s fine. Sarah had me keep ice on it for most of the afternoon.’
What?
‘Sarah?’ I blurt without thinking about what tone I should use. It comes out accusingly.
He frowns at me, and I hate myself for sounding so shocked. ‘She was just being a friend.’ he says coolly, but this only heightens my concern. She would have seen his marked wrists. It wouldn’t take much intelligence to figure out where they had come from. Another woman looking after him doesn’t sit well, and the fact that it’s pouty lips really has my jealous streak racing to the surface. She has made it obvious that she doesn’t like me, at the same time making it perfectly obvious that she really likes Jesse. And the women of The Manor will probably treat me with the same brusqueness and …my head hurts.
I suddenly feel extremely uncomfortable with my possessiveness. Good God, I ridicule Jesse for this. I’m a bloody hypocrite and the way he is staring down at me, gaging my mood, isn’t helping. He’s a very desirable man, who assaults women with that fucking smile and has them in puddles at his feet.
I wriggle underneath him to get free and he obliges, letting me up on a frown. I head straight for the bathroom and immerse myself in the hot bath. I’m really not comfortable with these feelings. I’ve never been jealous in my life. I’m going to be fighting women off on a daily basis. That’s a full time job in itself. Maybe I will need to retire.
‘Has someone got a touch of the green eyed monster?’
I look up and see him stood in all of his naked glory by the bathroom doorway. ‘No.’ I scoff. I couldn’t be more obviously jealous if I tried.
He walks over to the bath and steps in behind me, lowering his body until I’m cradled between his legs. He drapes his arms over my shoulders and pulls me back to rest on his chest. ‘Ava, you are the only woman for me,’ he says softly in my ear. ‘And I am all yours.’ He picks up the natural sponge from the edge of the bath, dips it to soak up some water, and then starts running it across my breasts.
‘You need to tell me more about yourself.’
I feel his chest lift on a sigh. ‘What do you want to know?’
‘Is The Manor strictly business or have you mixed it with pleasure?’ I’m pleased with my forward tone. I know he has mixed it with pleasure because Mr Creep who got roughed up by Jesse the day I found out about The Manor’s happenings said as much. And so did Sam, for that matter. Then why am I asking? I feel my blood begin to boil with bitterness.
The sponge pauses between my breasts for a few seconds, but then he continues smoothing it over my body. ‘Dive straight in, why don’t you.’ he says dryly.
‘Tell me.’ I press.
He sighs, so heavily I almost turn around to glare at him, just so he knows I don’t appreciate his bored reaction to my question. ‘I’ve dabbled.’ he says irritably.
Dabbled?
I’m not sure I like the sound of dabbling, especially in this area of enquiry. ‘Are you still dabbling?’
‘No!’ He’s truly defensive.
‘When was the last time you dabbled?’ I don’t think I want to know this. Why am I asking these questions? His sponge strokes pause again. Please don’t tell me he has to think about this.
‘Way before I met you.’ He continues caressing me with the sponge.
‘How long before you met me?’ I need to shut up. I really don’t want to know this stuff, but damn, I can’t stop the stupid questions flying out.
‘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.