Beneath This Man (This Man Trilogy)

by Jodi Ellen Malpas

  Holy fucking shit!

  My eyes fly open in shock and I shift my hands on the wall, desperately trying to steady myself as he continues to wildly buck into me. ‘Jesus, Jesse!’ I scream around the delightful invasion of my body.

  ‘You knew this would be hard, Ava.’ he barks, smashing on. ‘Don’t you dare fucking come.’

  I try and focus on anything but the immense, fast accumulation of pressure that’s building up in my groin, but his relentless and barbaric strikes are not helping my desperate situation. I won’t be able to hold out for long at this riotous rate.

  ‘Fuck!’ he roars frenziedly. ‘You.fucking.drive.me.crazy!’ He punctuates each word with a hard, sharp thrust. I’m sweating more now than I did on my ten mile run.

  His hands slide up my back from my hips to grip onto my shoulders and my head rolls back under his warm, firm hold. I’m delirious with pleasure. The telltale signs of him tensing travels through his arms, straight to my shoulders. I’m relieved. I’m past the point of return, but I can’t fully let go until I get the okay. What the hell would he do if I defied him and gave in to my demanding release, anyway?

  He continues to buck and slap against me and on an ear piercing roar, he slams into me with such force, tears stab at my eyes. He stills and leans against my back, pushing me forward onto the wall, circling his hips deeply. I’m buzzing, my body tinkering on the edge. He reaches up and grabs my pony tail, pulling my head back to rest on his shoulder, moving his damaged hand around my front to the inside of my thigh.

  He pulls my hair so my face turns into his, my hazy vision met with dark green. ‘Come.’ he demands, softly sliding his finger down the centre of my core and sweeping his tongue through my mouth.

  His words and his touch trigger a shift of pressure in my groin that seizes me from every angle, and I explode on a stretched out, blissful moan into his mouth.

  I go limp. I sag in his hold and let him softly massage me through my climax. ‘You are a God.’ I mumble against his mouth, moving my hands from the wall to link around the back of his neck.

  I feel his grin against lips. ‘You’re so lucky.’

  ‘You’re an arrogant God.’

  He slips out of me and turns me around in his arms. I maneuver with him, draping my arms back around his neck. ‘Your arrogant God loves you so fucking much.’ He showers my sweaty face with kisses. ‘Your arrogant God wants to spend the rest of his life smothering you with his love and his body.’ He stands us up, dragging me with him.

  I’m delighted, but I’m also ignoring the small part of my brain that is trying to remind me that with Jesse’s love and body, also comes Mr Challenging control freak.

  ‘What’s the time?’ I ask around his morning, stubbled face.

  ‘I don’t know.’ He carries on with his smothering, and I start walking backwards towards the kitchen so I can get a look at the clock. He follows, still wrapped around me and still dropping kisses all over me.

  I catch a glimpse of the cooker clock. ‘Shit!’

  ‘Hey! Watch your fucking mouth!’

  I wriggle free of his hold and start running towards the stairs. ‘It’s a quarter to eight!’ I yell, as I take the stairs two at a time. Where has the time gone? My arrogant God is too much of a distraction. I’m going to be super late.

  I throw myself in the shower and make quick work of ridding my body of sweat and cum. I’m frantically rinsing my hair when I feel Jesse’s hands slide over my wet stomach. I wipe my eyes and find him towering over me with his dirty, roguish grin spread across his beautiful face.

  ‘Don’t.’ I warn. I’m not being distracted by him anymore. He pouts and works his hands up to my shoulders, yanking me forward onto his mouth. ‘I’m going to be late.’ I argue feebly, trying to fight off the budding craving as he teases my lips with his.

  ‘I want to make an appointment.’ he says, licking my bottom lip, pushing his groin into my stomach.

  ‘To fuck me? No appointment necessary.’ I quip, trying to pull away from him.

  He growls and yanks me back. ‘Mouth! I already told you, I don’t need to make an appointment to fuck you. I do that whenever and wherever I please.’ He rubs his groin back into me, and it’s now I know that I have to escape before I’m swallowed up again.

  ‘I’ve got to go.’ I duck out of his hold and hastily leave him in the shower, sulking like a schoolboy. He just had me, although I could go again too.

  I brush my teeth and make my way into the bedroom, sitting myself in front of the floor length mirror with my make-up bag and hair dryer. I commence a fast blast dry, quickly pin it up and start applying my make-up.

  Jesse walks out of the bathroom, gloriously naked and unashamed. I scowl at his naked back, dragging my eyes away to continue with my make-up. I’m being distracted.

  Leaning forward, I sweep my mascara wand over my lashes and pull back to find Jesse standing to the side of me, leaning into the mirror. I look up and come face to face with the broad head of his semi-erect manhood. My eyes are fixed, absolutely delighted. My greedy stare travels up his naked body and finds him looking in the mirror, coaxing his hair to the side with some wax. He knows what he’s doing.

  I take a calming breath and return to my make-up, but then he makes a point of brushing against me, his firm leg sweeping lightly over my bare arm. I shudder and glance up to find a twitching lip as he tries to feign ignorance. The swine.

  He looks down at me in the reflection of the mirror, his eyes swimming with all sorts of promises, and then he lowers himself behind me until he’s sat cradling my body. He shifts forward, pushing his front into my back, wrapping his arms around my waist and resting his chin on my shoulder. I hold his gaze in the mirror.

  ‘You’re beautiful.’ he says softly.

  ‘You are too.’ I reply, tensing slightly when I feel his hardness pushing into my lower back.

  He fights a smile, knowing damn well what he’s doing. ‘Don’t go to work.’

  I knew this was coming. ‘Please, don’t.’

  He pouts. ‘Don’t you want to fall into bed and let me pay special attention to you all day?’

  I could think of nothing better, but if I relent on this, I’m fully aware that I’m setting a rod for my own back. He can’t keep me to himself all of the time, although I know he doesn’t think that his ambition is unreasonable. ‘I have to work.’ I say, clenching my eyes shut when he turns his lips into my ear.

  ‘I have to have you.’ He circles his tongue lightly in my ear.

  Oh God, I need to escape now! ‘Jesse, please.’ I wriggle in his embrace.

  He scowls at me in the mirror. ‘Are you denying me?’

  ‘No, I’m delaying you.’ I reason, wriggling harder and turning myself around in his arms. I push him down to his back and lay on his front, pushing my lips onto his. His arms fall above his head as he moans around my kiss. ‘I need to work, God.’

  ‘Work me. I’ll be a very grateful client.’

  I pull back and smile. ‘You mean to say that instead of busting a gut keeping clients happy with drawings, plans and schedules, I should just jump into bed with them?’

  His eyes turn black. ‘Don’t say things like that, Ava.’

  ‘It was a joke.’ I laugh.

  I’m flipped over and pinned under his body. ‘Do you see me laughing? Don’t say things that will make me crazy mad.’

  ‘I’m sorry.’ I blurt quickly. I need to cop on to his zero tolerance approach to lighthearted jokes that suggest me with another man.

  He shakes his head and lifts himself from my body, strolling off to the wardrobe. I sit up and take the loss of distraction as an opportunity to concentrate on finishing my make-up. I’ve really upset him.

  An unexpected and very unwelcome image of Jesse with another woman jumps into my head. I do my own little head shake. It’s like my sub-conscience is giving me a taste of my own medicine. I screw my face up in disgust and throw my eyeliner into my make-up bag. It worked. I feel my fles
h prickling with possessiveness.

  After smothering myself in coco butter, I slip my lace underwear on and my red shift dress.

  ‘I like your dress.’

  I swing around and my eyes are assaulted by a devastatingly handsome, navy suited beast. I sigh in appreciation. He is just too bloody perfect and he’s not shaved. I swoon on the spot. He looks like he’s got over his little strop.

  ‘I like your suit.’ I counter.

  He grins and finishes straightening his grey tie before pulling the collar of his white shirt down. If I was any other woman and I found out about The Manor and the God who owned it, I would join too.

  I’m being distracted again. I throw my bag on the bed, retrieve my phone, sweep some gloss across my lips and grab my shoes, all under his watchful eye. I have another futile rummage through my bag for my pills, but I know I’m searching in vain.

  ‘Lost something?’ He splashes some aftershave on.

  Oh, that smell. ‘My pills.’ I grumble with my head practically in my oversized, leather shoulder bag. I run my fingers around the stitching of the lining to check for rips.

  ‘Again?’

  I look up at him and smile apologetically. I feel stupid, and I’m not relishing the thought of visiting Doctor Monroe again. I need to sort that today before I miss anymore.

  ‘I’ll see you later.’ He lands me with a chaste kiss on my cheek and leaves me to carry on searching for rips in the lining of my bag. What a nightmare. Maybe I should just get the jab and save myself all of this embarrassment.

  I freeze on the spot, my brow furrowing, my mind jumping the gun…I think.

  No, he wouldn’t. Why ever would he?

  Chapter 9

  As I walk into the foyer, I find Clive rubbing the cuff of his jacket on the marble desk, buffing it to a shine.

  ‘Morning, Clive.’

  ‘Good morning, Ava.’ he says happily.

  I return his cheeriness with an over-the-top smile. ‘Clive, I don’t suppose you could show me the CCTV footage from Sunday, could you?’

  ‘No!’ he blurts quickly, suddenly becoming busy and frantically typing on his keyboard.

  I eye him suspiciously, but he won’t look at me. I don’t believe this. Jesse has beaten me to it. He knew I would ask Clive. ‘Has Jesse spoken to you?’

  ‘No.’ He shakes his head and keeps his eyes down.

  ‘Of course.’ I sigh, turning and walking out of the foyer. The Lord is cute, and I’m suspicious.

  ‘Oh, Ava!’ I hear Clive coming after me. ‘Maintenance rang. The door is on order, but it’s coming from Italy so it may be a while.’ He walks besides me.

  ‘You should call Jesse and let him know.’ I carry on walking, and he carries on flanking me.

  ‘I did, Ava. Mr Ward advised me that I should consult with you on anything regarding the penthouse.’

  I skid to a halt. He said what? ‘I’m sorry.’ I sound confused.

  Clive looks nervous. ‘Mr Ward, he….urh….he said you live here now and anything concerning the penthouse should be run past you.’

  ‘Oh, he did, did he?’ I grind. I shouldn’t sound so menacing. It’s not Clive’s fault. ‘Clive, do me a favour. Ring Mr Ward and tell him I don’t live here.’

  Clive looks like I’ve just told him that he has two heads. I’m fuming. He moves me in under the persuasion of a sense fuck followed by a reminder fuck, and then expects me to become Molly mop? No amount of sense or reminder fucking will work in his favour this time.

  ‘Of course, Ava. I’ll…urhhhh…do it now.’

  ‘Good.’ I snap, and carry on outside the building. I stand and rummage through my bag for my sunglasses and car keys, completely riled. How dare he? I huff and puff to myself until I find my glasses, and as I slip them on, Massive Attack’s Angel creeps into my ears.

  ‘Oh no!’ I screech to myself. I’m even madder now. He knows how I feel about that track. I grab my phone and connect the call. ‘Stop messing about with my phone!’

  ‘No! Reminds me of you.’ he yells. ‘What do you mean, you don’t fucking live there?’

  ‘I’m not your fucking maid!’ I shout back.

  ‘Watch your fucking mouth!’

  ‘Fuck off!’ I yell. Oh, my language is blue!

  ‘MOUTH!’

  I stand outside Lusso raging mad. If he thinks I’m going to be playing the dutiful domestic lady, he’s another thing coming. The cheek! I look up and spot John leaning against his Range Rover. His signature wrap around glasses are on, but I can see his arched brow above it. He’s enjoying this.

  ‘What’s John doing here?’ I snap.

  ‘Have you calmed down yet?’

  ‘Answer me!’ I yell.

  ‘Who the hell do you think you’re talking to?’

  ‘You! Are you listening? Why is John here?’

  ‘He’s going to take you to work.’

  ‘I don’t need a chauffeur, Jesse.’ I’ve calmed my voice slightly. How undignified of me, shouting and swearing like a drunken football hooligan, and in front of the newest, most prestigious residential complex in London. I look up and see John grinning. It’s new to me. I‘ve never seen him display any humour.

  ‘He was in the area. I thought it would be easier than you trying to park up.’ Jesse has calmed his tone too.

  ‘Well, at least tell me what’s happening if it involves me.’ I spit down the phone and hang up.

  Controlling pig!

  I make my way over to John and my phone starts singing again en-route. I’ll be changing that ring tone. I flash my screen at John as I pass him, and he grins again. ‘Yes, dear?’ I quip, rather bravely. I’m digging myself a hole here – I do realise that, but he’s out of touching distance so there is no risk of any sort of Jesse style fucking to put me in my place.

  ‘Don’t be sarcastic, Ava. It doesn’t suit you.’

  I climb into the Range Rover and put my seatbelt on. ‘You’ll be pleased to know I’m on my way to work with John.’ I glace over at John, and he nods. ‘Would you like confirmation?’ I ask. ‘John, make yourself known.’ I thrust the phone under John’s nose.

  ‘S’all good, Jesse.’ he rumbles. He actually smiles, and I notice a gold tooth. He’s really enjoying this.

  I put the phone back to my ear. ‘Happy?’

  ‘Very!’ he snaps. ‘Ever heard of a retribution fuck?’

  The very words send shivers down my spine. I glance at John. He is still grinning. ‘No, are you going to demonstrate?’ I ask quietly.

  ‘If you’re lucky, I’ll see you at home.’ He hangs up.

  I put my phone in my bag, feeling coils of anticipation springing into my groin. He’s taken me on a ten mile run, served me my favourite coffee, fucked me into oblivion and made filthy promises on the phone, and I haven’t even got to work yet. On top of that, though, he’s distracting me from a whole heap of troubling thoughts. He’s holding back on me again, and I can’t believe he has advised the concierge that I am now the lady of the house. I need to avoid all sense fucking in future, and I need to think about how I’m going to approach this little issue. It’s way too soon to move in with him.

  I look at the mean beast of a man sat next to me. ‘Were you really in the area?’

  John stops with his signature hum. ‘What do you think?’

  That’s what I thought. ‘How old is Jesse?’ I ask casually. Why I’ve picked a casual tone is beyond me. It’s ridiculous that I don’t know how old he is.

  ‘Thirty two.’ John replies, completely dead pan.

  Thirty two? That’s how old Jesse said he was last night. I look at John, who has started humming again. I don’t believe it! Jesse’s given him the heads up. ‘He’s not thirty two, is he?’

  John smiles again, flashing his gold tooth. ‘He said you would ask.’

  I shake my head. I’m at a total loss on that subject, so I decide, as John seems like he’s in a talkative mood, to take another angle. ‘Is he always so challenging?’

&n
bsp; ‘Only with you, girl. He’s actually quite laidback.’

  Laidback? What a laugh! I remember Sam saying that too, and I also remember John mentioning that I had brought out some nasty qualities in him. I laugh to myself. Jesse has brought out some pretty nasty qualities in me too. I’m swearing like a sailor. ‘I obviously bring out the worst in him.’ I grumble.

  ‘Ah, girl. Go easy on him.’ John soothes lightly.

  ‘Do you want to live with him and his challenging ways?’ I ask exasperated.

  ‘So, you’ve moved in then?’ His eyebrows appear over his shades as he turns his face to me. I hadn’t realised what I just said. I hope John isn’t jumping to the same conclusion as Sarah did; that I’m after his money.

  I suddenly have the urgent need to defend myself. ‘He asked me and pretty much bullied a yes out of me,’ I won’t tell John how, ‘but I’m not so sure. It’s a bit soon. That’s what that little spat was about. He doesn’t like being told no.’ I wave my phone at John.

  I don’t give a fudge about his money!

  The corners of John’s lips turn down and he starts nodding his head thoughtfully. ‘He certainly has a way with you.’

  I scoff and do my own little thoughtful head shake. He certainly does have a way with me. It’s frightening. ‘How long have you known him?’ I ask. I may as well get my fill while I can. He might shut up and not start talking again.

  ‘Too long.’ He laughs, and it’s a deep, rumbling belly sound that has him developing a few more chins as his neck retracts. I wonder how old he is. It’s like the bloody mystery of ages. He’s got to be late forties.

  ‘I bet you see some sights at The Manor.’ I muse. John’s role is all the more clearer, now I know the place isn’t a hotel or the mafia’s HQ. I wouldn’t want to be messing with the mountain of a man sat next to me, drumming his hands on the steering wheel. He even makes that look menacing.

  ‘It’s all in my job description.’ he says casually.

  Ah, which reminds me. ‘Why were the police there?’ I ask.

  John turns an almost threatening face onto me, and I wither slightly. ‘Just some idiot playing games. No need for you to worry, girl.’ He turns his attention back to the road.