Beneath This Man (This Man, #2)(72)

‘I am genuinely interested.’ He looks hurt.

I’m not falling for it. ‘I’ll meet you at Baroque at one. I’ve still got to ring Kate and advise her that you’re gatecrashing our ladies’ lunch.’

‘She won’t mind. She loves me.’ he says confidently.

‘That is because you bought her Margo Junior.’ I remind him.

‘No, it is because she told me so.’ He’s so smug.

‘When?’

‘When we were out,’ He pushes my hair from my face. ‘The night I showed you how to dance. The night you got completely k-lined.’

‘K-lined?’ I ask around my toast.

‘Drunk.’ he mouths.

I scoff. ‘Kate must have been drunk too.’ She wasn’t as drunk as me, but that would be difficult. She was well on her way, though – not that it would matter. Kate wouldn’t tell anyone she liked them if she didn’t, and she certainly wouldn’t say she loves them, even if it is a term of endearment.

‘Not just then.’ He scoops his finger in the jar and thrusts it under my nose. I screw my face up and he smirks before licking it off himself.

‘When then?’ I ask casually, taking another bite of my toast. He’s doing this on purpose.

‘At The Manor.’ He tosses it in the air like it’s the most natural thing in the world for Kate to be at The Manor.

My jaw hits the marble counter. I remember Kate went to The Manor on Saturday night and I remember Jesse being called away late Saturday night. It must have been then. She didn’t go into details when I asked her. Fun is what she had said and she didn’t elaborate further. I definitely wasn’t going to push it after her contemptuous reaction to my questioning.

‘What was she doing at The Manor?’ I try to sound casual, but by the look on his face, I’ve failed.

He smiles. ‘That is none of our business.’ He jumps up from the stool and chucks his empty jar in the bin. ‘I’ve got to scram.’

‘Scram?’

‘Like, skedaddle…go…leave.’ He winks at me, and I pool on the stool in a soppy mess. He’s in a good mood this morning, all roguish and playful. I love him. Easygoing Jesse is becoming a more regular visitor these days.

‘I’ve decided that maybe lunch isn’t such a good idea. I don’t want Kate to think we’re joined at the hip.’ I turn away from him and carry on eating my toast in the most blasé manner I can muster. It’s hard when my man is bristling and snarling behind me.

He grabs me, and I squeal as he flips my around and walks me to the wall, pinning me under his delicious body with my toast still in my hand. His eyes are uncertain and I almost feel guilty… almost.

I know what’s coming.

I fight to conceal the grin that’s tickling the corners of my mouth as he bends, leans into me and rolls his hips up so I get a full on stroke at my core. I moan in pure, sneaky satisfaction.

‘You didn’t mean that.’ he says, sliding his hand over my stomach, down towards the apex of my thighs.

‘I did.’ I challenge, and then jerk as his thumb slips over my sensitive flesh. Oh God, I will never get enough of him.

‘Someone is going to be quick.’ he muses, as he continues to ride me with his hand. I sigh, savouring his talented touch working me. ‘Don’t play games with me, Ava.’ He withdraws his hand and steps back from me.

WHAT!

I want to yank him back and shove his hand down below. What the hell is he playing at? I look at him, all what-the-hell, and he smirks at me.

‘I’m already late because I wanted to make sure you ate. If I knew you were going to play games with me, I would have f*cked you first and feed you after.’ He steps in and makes a point of grinding his ever loving hips against me, moaning in my ear. ‘One o’clock.’ he whispers, before he bites into my suspended toast and pulls away. ‘I love you, lady.’ He looks at me with utter smugness.

‘You don’t.’ I snap. ‘If you did, you wouldn’t abandon me halfway to orgasm.’

‘Hey!’ he yells. He looks pissed. ‘Don’t ever question whether I love you. It’ll make me mad.’

I try and plaster an apologetic look on my face, but in my unexploded state, I’m struggling to convince my brain to do anything other than yank him back into me and make him sort me out. He’s turned on, I can see. How is he walking away?

‘Have a nice day.’ His eyes soften as he leans down and rests his lips on my cheek. ‘I’m going to miss you like crazy, baby.’

Oh, I know he will. But it’s only six hours until our lunch date. He’ll live.



Once I’m ready, I make my way down, clinking on my heels through the foyer as I delve through my bag for my sunglasses.

‘Morning, Ava.’ I hear Clive call to my back.

‘Morning,’ I slip my shades on and emerge into the sunshine, coming to an abrupt halt when I spot John leaning against his Range Rover.

Really?

He lifts his glasses up and shrugs his big shoulders at me. Oh good, he thinks this is stupid too, but I need my car today so I can collect my stuff from Matt’s after work.

I walk over. ‘John, I can drive to work.’ I say on a tired tone.

‘I don’t think you can, girl.’ he rumbles. What’s he talking about? ‘Your car’s being valeted.’ He shrugs again and slides behind the wheel. I swing around and see an army of men cleaning my car.