Beneath This Man (This Man, #2)(152)

Fuck!

I bolt across the room and over the bed. It’s no surprise that I’m captured and pinned under him before I make any significant distance. I’m on my back with my arms pinned above my head with one of his. His jean clad leg rest over my thighs, restraining me. I’m completely immobile and exhausted from trying to break free. You would think I would have learnt by now. I pant in his face as he breathes down on me, tracing the line of my stomach with his finger, and then up the centre of my body to my mouth. He rests the tip on my bottom lip before letting it travel back down my body. The bastard is unleashing that craving for him again. It will never go away.

I run my eyes down the length of his bare torso and to his spare hand tracing light, feathery circles in the hollow void above my hip. ‘I’m putting your resistance down to the drugs.’ he says quietly and critically. ‘I’m giving you another three seconds to make the right decision.’ He lowers his lips so that they hover over mine, as close as possible without touching. ‘Three.’ he breathes over my mouth.

I wriggle and try to fight myself free, as well as fighting the traitorous response my body is having to him. I am incredibly weak and desperate. I open my eyes and find unmoved, puddles of green desire, fanned with his glorious lashes.

‘Two.’ he whispers and moves his gaze to my lips.

He gets no further. I lift my head and capture his mouth, my craving for him just way too powerful to fight back. He pushes his mouth down, forcing me to rest my head back on the bed as his glides his hands over my stomach.

‘Please don’t have a drink.’ I plead into his mouth. I would never forgive myself if he put his body through that again because of me.

‘I’m not going to have a drink, Ava.’ His voice is flat and unconvincing. It makes me uncomfortable. He pushes himself up to his knees before pulling me up to straddle his lap. He brushes my hair out of my face and clasps my cheeks with his hands. ‘Last night in the hospital when you wouldn’t come round, I felt my heart getting slower by the minute. You will never know how much I love you. If you were ever taken away from me, I wouldn’t survive it, Ava. I want to rip my own head off for giving you room to defy me.’

My eyes widen at his confession. His face is deadly serious and that’s troubling. He is, in effect, saying he would kill himself, isn’t he? Well, that is just crazy talk, but I don’t think I would do well to point that out. ‘I’m okay.’ I say in a futile attempt to lighten him up. He looks distressed.

‘But what if you weren’t? What if I didn’t come when I did?’ He clenches his eyes shut. ‘I just came to the bar to check you were okay, and then I was going to leave. Can you imagine how it felt to see you collapse like that?’ His eyes open and they’re glazed and haunted. I know now, for sure, I may as well handcuff myself to the bed. This is not healthy… for him or for me.

‘It was a freak incident, someone playing stupid games. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time, that’s all.’ I take his hands from my face and rest them between our bodies. ‘You will put yourself in a stress induced coma at this rate, and then what will I do?’ I ask quietly. I’m not ignorant to the fact that I couldn’t be without him either, but you don’t see me spiraling into breakdown and controlling him.

He shakes his head and then starts chewing his lip. What’s he thinking? ‘You looked relieved when the Doctor said you weren’t pregnant.’ He fixes me with an enquiring eye.

Oh no!

Oh no no no! I could be pregnant. I could be f*cking pregnant. Yes, it was negative, but it’s only been a week since I finished my period and it’s way too early to detect if I am. Fucking hell, we’ve been having sex like rabbits and with no protection.

I look anywhere but at him. ‘I missed a pill.’ I feel his hand shift and close around mine and I look up cautiously, finding his accusing eyes and an arched brow. ‘I missed a few, I lost them again.’ I confess.

‘You’ve not replaced them?’

‘I forgot.’ I shrug, like the feeble loser that I am.

He studies me for a while. I feel like I’m under a microscope that identifies useless idiots. ‘Okay. So when did you last take your pill?’

‘Only a few days ago.’ I answer quietly. I’m lying through the skin of my teeth, fighting my hand from delving into my hair. I can’t believe I’ve been nearly a whole week and not replaced them.

‘So you’ll replace them?’

‘Tomorrow.’ I confirm. That is one appointment I’m not looking forward to, and damn I’m too late to munch on a morning after pill.

A funny look passes over his face. Regret? Okay, I’ve dismissed the thought before, but that look has just put me on a major high alert. I would say he wouldn’t do such a thing, but I can’t put it past him. I wouldn’t put anything past him.

‘Jesse,’ I pause, not knowing how to piece together what I’m about to imply.

‘What?’ he asks, looking cautious and actually slightly guilty. He knows what I’m thinking, I know he does, and I’m super suspicious now. He can’t have seriously been trying to get me pregnant? But if he has been hiding them, then he knows damn well I’ve not been taking them for a week. Or did he think I’d replaced them already?

‘Nothing.’ I say, shaking my head. I know he won’t admit it, so I’m playing dumb, but I’ll be searching every square inch of this penthouse at the first opportunity.