Total pages in book: 235
Estimated words: 224334 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1122(@200wpm)___ 897(@250wpm)___ 748(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 224334 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1122(@200wpm)___ 897(@250wpm)___ 748(@300wpm)
She sighs and starts rubbing comforting circles into her temples. I want to do that. I want to do anything I can to make her feel better.
“Is there anything else I need to know?” she asks, watching closely for my reaction to her question.
I try to hide my unease. “Like what?”
The look of disgust on her face is warranted. “I don’t know, you tell me.” Her arms catapult to the ceiling. “Why would I prefer this to drunken Jesse?”
Gritting my teeth, I move forward, trying to close the space between us. My elbows hit my knees and I mimic Ava’s attempt to soothe my brain ache by rubbing circles in my temples too. “Drink and sex go hand in hand for me.” I say the first words that’ll commence the unraveling of my secrets.
“What does that mean?”
Jesus Christ. How do I explain this? “Ava, I inherited The Manor when I was twenty-one. Can you imagine a young lad with this place and a whole lot of women ready and willing?”
“You mean the dabbling?” Her voice is quiet and cautious. She’s starting to work this out.
“Yes, the dabbling, but it’s all behind me.” I move farther forward. “Now, it’s all about you.” I need her to understand this. It might make the rest easier for her to come to terms with.
“You drank and dabbled?”
“Yes, like I said, drink and sex go hand in hand. Please, come here.”
My request is ignored. “So you didn’t have a drink because you would have wanted to have sex?”
“I don’t trust myself with alcohol, Ava.”
“Because you think you will jump the nearest woman?”
Another ironic laugh falls unwittingly from my lips. “I don’t think so. I couldn’t do that to you.” I should stab myself for my nerve and save her the trouble of dealing with this fucked-up arsehole any longer.
“You don’t think so?”
“It’s not a risk I’m willing to take. Ava.” Again. “I drink too much, lose reason, and women throw themselves at me willingly. You’ve seen it.”
“You didn’t look very capable of anything last Friday,” she shouts incredulously.
“Yeah, that’s not my normal level of intemperance, Ava. I was on a mind-numbing mission.”
“So, you usually maintain a steady level of drinking and then have lots of sex with lots of willing women?” she asks, her thirst for clarity strong. And really fucking dangerous. “You’ve never had a drink when you’ve slept with me?”
I can’t do this without contact, so I shove aside the table that’s blocking my access to her and fall to my knees before her. “No, Ava. I have never been under the influence of alcohol when I’ve had you. I don’t need it. Alcohol blocked things out for me, made me forget how hollow my life was. I didn’t give a fuck about any of the women I slept with, not one. And then you fell into my life and things changed completely. You brought me back to life, Ava. I never want to touch the drink because if I start, I might not stop, and I never want to miss a moment with you.” I’m a bastard. A desperate, hopeless bastard. I can see the tears forming in her eyes. I’m not sure how this can get any worse.
“Have you had sleepy sex with anyone else?” she asks, her voice brittle, ready to crack.
I do a shit job of hiding my exasperation at her silly question, sighing loudly. “No.”
“What about a sense fuck?” She looks fierce.
“Ava, no. I’ve never cared about anyone else enough to need or want to fuck any sense into them.” Jesus Christ, what the hell do I sound like? I find her legs and squeeze some reassurance into them. “Only you.”
My hands are pushed aside and she’s on her feet quickly. “So on Thursday in your office, are you telling me that if you had drank the vodka, I would’ve found you nailing Sarah on your desk, not just looking cozy with her on your desk?”
Good Lord, someone stop this horror movie. I jump up and stalk over to her, taking a firm hold of her small body. “No, don’t be so stupid.” I wouldn’t touch Sarah with a pole, not ever again, and I would never let her lay a hand on me.
But a whip?
“I don’t think I’m being stupid. It’s bad enough worrying about you drinking.” She starts quietly, quite calmly, but her voice rises toward the end, and her next words are yelled. “I don’t know if I can cope with the additional worry of you being drunk and wanting to fuck other women.” She’s losing control, her scathing words making me jump back, injured, even though I have no right to be.
I also have no right to reprimand her on her foul language . . . but. “Will you watch your fucking mouth? It doesn’t make me want to fuck other women. It just makes me want to fuck.”