Part 29 (2/2)

After receiving a lecture about carelessness from Doctor Monroe, our life-long family doctor, she gave me a prescription for my pills and sent me on my way, but not before checking how Mum and Dad are getting on in Newquay. With Dad's health being the main reason for their winding down from the big city, she was keen to hear all is well.

I stop off at the chemist on the way home, rolling in the door at just before six. It makes a change to be home so early. I'm surprised to find Kate isn't home, but Margo is parked up outside so she's not delivering cakes.

I shower, change into my shorts and vest, and blow-dry my hair roughly. When I'm done, I grab my phone from my bag and roll my eyes at the twenty missed calls and, rather sensibly, delete the five texts without reading them. It starts silently flas.h.i.+ng in my hand as I walk through to the kitchen. Won't the man just give up? He's clearly not use to rejection, and he clearly doesn't like it.

My wine bottle clatters against my gla.s.s, mid-pour, when I jump out of my skin at an almighty bang on the front door.

'Ava!'

'Oh G.o.d,' I mutter to myself.

'Ava!' he roars, banging again.

I hurry through to the lounge, looking out of the blind to see Jesse staring up at the window. He looks frantic. What's wrong with that man? He can stay out there all night, if he likes, I'm not answering the door. Being face to face with him will be a huge mistake. I watch as he holds his phone to his ear and mine starts flas.h.i.+ng in my hand again. I reject it and look on as he glances at his phone in disbelief.

'Ava! Answer the f.u.c.king door!'

'No.' I snap, watching him pace down the path to the road. I nearly have heart failure when I spot Sam pull up in his Porsche. Kate gets out.

s.h.i.+t!

She approaches Jesse, who's waving his arms around like a loon, as Sam joins them on the pavement and rubs his shoulder in a gesture of comfort. They talk for a few moments before Kate leads them up the path to the front door.

'No, Kate!' I shout at the window. 'f.u.c.k, f.u.c.k, f.u.c.k, f.u.c.k!' That's it, our friends.h.i.+p is over!

I stand like a complete lemon in the lounge, hearing the front door swing open, smas.h.i.+ng against the wall behind it, and then the stamping of heavy feet flying up the stairs. He crashes through the lounge door, the anger on his face turning to relief before reverting back to pure fury again. His grey suit looks perfectly smooth and unaffected, unlike his disheveled hair and sweaty brow.

'Where the f.u.c.k have you been?' He blasts me with his shout, his breath, literally, breezing past my ears. 'I've been pulling my f.u.c.king hair out!'

Yes, I can see that.

I stand staring at him, completely dumb struck. I have no idea what to say. Is he under some sort of illusion that I'm answerable to him? Kate and Sam approach behind him, all quiet and apprehensive. I look at Kate, shaking my head. I'm dying to ask her if she likes this Jesse.

'We're just gonna pop down The c.o.c.k for a drink.' Sam says quietly, grabbing Kate's hand and pulling her down the landing. She doesn't try to stop him. I watch them leave, mentally cursing their chicken a.r.s.es for leaving me alone to deal with crazy man here.

He seems to take a few calming breaths, looking up at the ceiling in weariness, before returning his blazing gaze to mine. It penetrates me deeply. 'Does someone need a reminder?'

I think I must have a carpet burn on my chin because my jaw has just plummeted to the rug. It really is all about s.e.x to him. His self-a.s.suredness is shocking and his opinion of me inexcusable.

'No!' I shout, steaming past him into the kitchen. I need that drink! I hear him follow me, watching as I chuck my phone on the worktop and yank the bottle of wine up. 'You're a complete b.a.s.t.a.r.d!' I yell, pouring my wine with shaky hands. I'm boiling mad. I swing around and fire him my most evil look. He actually winces slightly, which fills me with immense satisfaction. 'You've got what you wanted. So have I. Let's not f.u.c.k about.' I spit. I haven't got what I wanted, not in the least bit, but I ignore the voice in my head screaming that at me. I need to stop this before I get dragged any further into the intensity that is Jesse Ward.

'Watch your f.u.c.king mouth!' he shouts. 'What are you talking about? I haven't got what I wanted.'

'You want more?' I quickly swig my wine. 'Well, I don't, so stop hounding me, Jesse. And stop shouting at me!' I go for brutality, but I fear I probably sound pretty pathetic in my attempt. Something's got to work. I take another huge gulp of my wine, jumping when it's swiped from my hand and tossed in the sink. I wince at the shattering of gla.s.s that cracks through the air.

'You don't have to drink like a f.u.c.king fifteen year old.' he yells.

My fists ball at my sides as I use all of my willpower to calm myself down. 'Get out!' I scream. My attempts are failing miserably. I'm becoming frantic a desperate.

I shrink when he roars in frustration, throwing his fist into the kitchen door, leaving a huge dent in the wood.

Oh, s.h.i.+t! I stand there, eyes bulging and lips sealed firmly shut as I watch his fierce reaction to my rejection. He turns to face me, shaking his hand a little, and looks me square in the eyes, his sludgy stare attacking me.

f.u.c.k me, that's gotta hurt. I'm about to go to the freezer to get some ice, but he starts to stalk towards me. I brace my hands behind me on the edge of the worktop and watch him gain on me until we are front to front. He leans forward, placing his hands over mine, effectively trapping me.

Breathing heavily in my face, he scowls at me, and then smashes his lips onto my mouth. My breath is literally sucked out of me as I writher under him, trying to free myself. What's he doing? Actually, I know exactly what he's doing. He's going to hit me with a reminder f.u.c.k. I'm so screwed.

He pushes his lips harder against mine, but I don't accept his kiss. I keep telling myself that this is bad, so b.l.o.o.d.y wrong. I'm going to hurt even more if I accept this, I know I will. I half-heartedly try to free myself, but he growls low in his throat, his hands tightening on mine. I'm not going anywhere. My desperate attempts to halt this are being seriously hindered by his sheer determination to break me down.

His tongue skims my bottom lip as I continue to deny him access, shuddering in an attempt to fight off the reactions he's drawing from me. I know if he gains entry, it will be game over, so I stubbornly keep my lips locked shut while mentally pleading for him to give up.

When he releases one of my hands, I instantly grab his bicep to push him away, but it's no good. He's a powerhouse of a man and a determined one at that. He's not affected in the slightest by my meager attempts to free myself.

He grabs my hip tightly and I jerk under him, but I'm pressed back into the worktop. I'm completely trapped, but I still defiantly reject his kiss, keeping my lips shut tight. I turn my head away when he eases up a bit.

'Stubborn woman.' he mutters, pressing his lips against my neck, licking and nibbling his way down to the hollow, circling long, wet strokes before working his way up to my ear and biting at my lobe.

I squeeze my eyes shut, pleading with my self-control to resist his irresistible touch. My fingernails are digging into his tense upper arm and my lips are locked shut for fear of letting out a cry of pleasure. His hand leaves my hip and moves slowly across my stomach, skimming the waistband of my shorts.

'Please. Please, stop.' I cry.

'You stop, Ava. Just stop.' Slipping his index finger under the material, he traces left to right, in slow, soft, measured strokes while continuing the invasion of his lips on my ear and neck. I could cry with frustration.

The warm friction buckles my knees, sending violent quivers over my entire body. I hear him laugh lightly, deep at the back of his throat, sending vibrations down my spine and a slow steady beat to my core. I clamp my thighs together, moving my hand from his arm to his chest and pus.h.i.+ng in total vain. I don't even know why I'm bothering now. I'm a heartbeat away from surrendering to him. He's persistently pursuing me in l.u.s.t, and I've fallen hard for him a really hard. My head feels like it could explode, and I'm not sure if it'll be in pleasure or confusion. I'm so b.l.o.o.d.y confused.

When his lips reach mine again, I still resist, trying my hardest to block it all out. My poor brain is being thrown a million different commands a fight him; resist him; accept him; kiss him; knee him in the b.o.l.l.o.c.ks.

And then his hand is delving into my knickers, his fingers separating me, causing electricity to spark violently through me. He brushes over my c.l.i.toris, so very gently. I jerk, my mouth opens and I let out a cry of pleasure. He takes full advantage of my lapse in willpower, thrusting his tongue into my mouth, exploring and lapping every corner, his thumb slowly circling my burning core. I kiss him back.

'Let my hand go.' I pant, flexing the muscles in my arm.

He must know that he's got me because my hand is released on a moan and he's griping the nape of my neck immediately. I throw my arms around his neck to pull him closer to me a just like that.

His hips thrust against his hand, increasing the pressure of his a.s.sault on my core and his fingers enter me. My muscles grip him hard. I moan.

He pulls away from me, gasping and heaving, looking at me through his hooded, glazed eyes. 'I thought so.' he says, his husky tone pus.h.i.+ng my building o.r.g.a.s.m higher.

He crashes his lips back on mine, and I accept it - all of it. Once again, I'm a slave to this beautiful, neurotic man. My willpower has diminished and my weaknesses have been weakened.

I run my hands across his suited back, my fingers delving into his dirty blonde hair as he continues his excruciatingly slow, controlled drives with his fingers. I could cry with pleasure and frustration, but how can I resist this? I'll never escape him.

Now that I've stopped fighting him, his tongue is working my mouth at a calmer, steadier rate. The hotness of our combined mouths feels natural and absolute. My thighs tighten with the building climax threatening to attack me from every direction, and my grip of his hair increases. He gets the message, hardening his kiss, the strokes of his fingers and thumb becoming firmer as I'm bulldozed by pleasure and rocketed skyward. My mind goes blank, except for the bliss of release riding through me. I bite his lip. He groans. Holy f.u.c.king s.h.i.+t!

His strokes ease up, and I release his lip from my clenched teeth. I think I can taste blood, but my eyes won't open to confirm it. It would serve him right.

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