Beneath This Man (This Man Trilogy)

by Jodi Ellen Malpas

  ‘Like what?’ he asks guardedly. I don’t appreciate it and how the hell would I know what? He’s knocked me for six with this place, his drinking, and now willingly being whipped. What else could there possibly be that could shock or anger me more than this?

  ‘I don’t know, you tell me. You said no more secrets, Jesse.’ I throw my arms up in annoyance. I want to comfort him desperately. Keeping myself away from him is hurting almost as much as bearing witness to his beating. ‘Why would I prefer this to drunken Jesse?’

  He leans forward delicately on a clenched jaw, resting his elbows on his knees, rubbing his temples thoughtfully. ‘Drink and sex go hand in hand for me.’

  ‘What does that mean?’ My voice is high and edgy.

  ‘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?’ He looks ashamed.

  My mind starts racing. Oh, I can imagine all right and it’s no wonder the women were ready and willing. They still are. Look at him! ‘You mean the dabbling?’ I whisper. Do I want to know this?

  He exhales. ‘Yes, the dabbling, but it’s all behind me.’ He sits forward on a wince. ‘Now, it’s all about you.’

  ‘You drank and dabbled?’

  ‘Yes, like I said, drink and sex go hand in hand. Please, come here.’ He reaches across the big table that’s positioned between the two sofas, but I pull back. His hand drops and he looks down at the floor. I still don’t understand, and it still doesn’t explain why he has just accepted a thrashing from Sarah.

  ‘So, you didn’t have a drink because you would have wanted to have sex?’ My forehead must look like a road map because I am thoroughly confused.

  ‘I don’t trust myself with alcohol, Ava.’

  ‘Because you think you will jump the nearest woman?’

  He laughs nervously and runs his hands through his hair. ‘I don’t think so. I couldn’t do that to you.’

  ‘You don’t think so?’ I’m shocked.

  ‘It’s not a risk I’m willing to take. Ava. I drink too much, lose reason and women throw themselves at me willingly. You’ve seen it.’ He gives me an embarrassed smile.

  I scoff. ‘You didn’t look very capable of anything last Friday!’ He was unconscious and yes, I have seen women throw themselves at him. It’s degrading!

  ‘Yeah, that’s not my normal level of intemperance, Ava. I was on a mind numbing mission.’ he says awkwardly. I suddenly feel awful.

  ‘So, you usually maintain a steady level of drinking and then have lots of sex with lots of willing women?’ I think I’m getting my head around this. ‘You’ve never had a drink when you’ve slept with me?’

  He gets up and shifts the table so he can kneel in front of me and rest his hands on my thighs. He looks straight into my eyes. ‘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.’

  Tears start to prick at my eyes at his confession. He was a playboy who fucked about all over the place. I knew that. ‘Have you had sleepy sex with anyone else?’ I hold my breath. Of all the things to ask, I ask this?

  He sighs heavily. ‘No.’

  I narrow my eyes on him. ‘What about a sense fuck?’

  ‘Ava, no! I’ve never cared about anyone else enough to need or want to fuck any sense into them.’ He squeezes my thighs. ‘Only you.’

  Okay, that bizarrely helps, but he still insists he’s not an alcoholic, which is utter madness. If you don’t drink because you can’t trust yourself, then there’s a problem and anyway, he could have been under the influence all this time. They say a good alcoholic hides it well. How the hell would I know? I think back to Thursday evening when I found him in his office with a bottle of vodka and another woman. Oh, this is bad news. Not only have I got the concern of him having a drink, I’ve also got to worry about what he does once he’s had one. This is rich! I can’t even have a business meeting with a male client without him dissolving on the spot, although Jesse’s meltdown with regards to Mikael seems to be warranted. But I’m not delusional enough to think that he wouldn’t trample my other male clients.

  I push his hands away from my thighs and get up, leaving him crouched by the sofa looking lost. ‘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 cosy with her on your desk?’ This is horrible.

  He gets up and stalks over to me, grabbing my hips to immobilise me before bending down to get into my line of sight. ‘No! Don’t be so stupid.’

  ‘I don’t think I’m being stupid.’ I scathe. ‘It’s bad enough worrying about you drinking. I don’t know if I can cope with the additional complications of you being drunk and wanting to fuck other women!’ I’m screeching, but I can’t help it.

  He recoils. ‘Will you watch your fucking mouth? It doesn’t make me want to fuck other women. It just makes me want to fuck!’

  ‘So I had better ensure that I’m with you when you have a drink then, hadn’t I?’

  ‘I won’t be having a drink! When will you listen to me, woman?’ he shouts. ‘I don’t need drink.’ He releases me harshly and stomps off towards the window and then back again. He points at me. ‘I need you!’

  And we’re back to that. How the hell does he know? I slap his finger out of my face. ‘You need me to replace drink and screwing.’ I want to cry. All he needs me for is to remove himself from a lifestyle that would kill him if he kept it up for much longer. I’m his escape from a certain premature death by alcohol poisoning. I think I might throw up again. He really is scared of me leaving, but it has nothing to do with how much he loves me. It is because he is scared of returning to a hollow life. ‘You manipulate me.’

  ‘I don’t manipulate you!’ He actually looks offended.

  ‘Yes, you do! With sex! Sense fucking, reminder fucking. It’s all manipulation. I need you and you use it against me!’

  ‘No!’ he roars, and then swipes his arms straight across the top of the drinks cabinet, sending dozens of liquor bottles and glasses crashing to the floor, the sound of broken glass thundering around us.

  I jump, stepping back, but he stalks forward and grabs the tops of my arms. ‘I need you to need me, Ava. It doesn’t get any simpler than that. How many times have I got to tell you? As long as you need me, I look after myself…simple.’

  ‘How is having yourself whipped looking after yourself?’ I scream in his face.

  He drops me and grabs at his hair, virtually pulling it out. ‘I don’t fucking know!’

  I look to the heavens above. This is hopeless. ‘I do need you, but not like this.’

  He takes my hands. ‘Look at me.’ he demands harshly. I drop my head back down so we’re at eye level again. ‘Tell me, how do I make you feel? I know how you make me feel. Yes, I’ve had a lot of women, but it was all just sex. Mindless sex. No feelings. Ava, I need you.’

  I look at my handsome, troubled, neurotic rogue, looking me straight in the eyes and I want to scream at him, bang his head against a wall and knock some sense into him the conventional way. We make each other crazy. That’s the truth of it. We’re no good for each other, and he does manipulate me. The problem is, I enjoy it. The sex kitten in me comes racing to the surface every time. I need him, just as much as he needs me, but for different reasons. He’s made himself a part of me. He’s embedded himself into my mind and soul. Without him, I feel like nothing. I am nothing.

  ‘How can you need me if I make you do this to yourself?’ I ask tiredly. ‘You’re more self-destructible now than you were before me. I’ve made you need alcohol, not want it. I’ve made you into an u
nreasonable, crazy man, and I’m certainly not stable anymore. Don’t you see what we’re doing to each other?’

  ‘Ava,’ His tone is warning. He knows where I’m heading.

  ‘And for the record, I hate the fact that you’ve put it about?’ I need him to know this, but then the most horrific thought slams into my head.

  I gasp.

  ‘When you disappeared for four days…’ I can’t even finish. My heart has just jumped into my throat and exploded.

  His eyes widen at my obvious conclusion, his mouth tightening, the muscles in his jaw ticking. ‘They.meant.nothing. I love you. I need you.’

  ‘Oh God!’ I fall to my knees. He hasn’t denied it. ‘You were fucking other women.’ My palms find my face as the tears start again, a massive hole punched straight through my stomach.

  He joins me on the floor, clenching my arms, shaking me. ‘Ava, listen to me. They meant nothing. I was falling in love with you. I knew I would hurt you. I didn’t want to hurt you.’

  ‘You said you couldn’t do it to me. You forgot to add again. You should have said you couldn’t do it to me again.’

  ‘I didn’t want to hurt you.’ he whispers.

  My defeated face comes up. ‘So to remedy that, you fucked other women?’ My stomach is turning. I can’t breathe. ‘How many?’

  ‘Ava, please don’t. I hate myself.’

  ‘I hate you too!’ I cry, my shoulders jerking as I sob relentlessly. ‘How could you?’

  ‘Ava, why are you not listening to me?’

  ‘I am, and I don’t like what I’m hearing!’ I scramble to my feet, but he grabs my waist to prevent me from walking away.

  He rests his forehead on my stomach, and I watch through my hazy vision as his own shoulders start jerking. ‘I’m sorry. I love you. Please, I beg you, don’t leave me. Marry me.’

  ‘What?’ I cry. We’ve not even spoken about the subject at hand yet, and I’m already balancing on the edge of complete breakdown. This is information overload. This is the death blow. ‘I can’t marry someone who I don’t understand.’ I utter the words quietly through my heaves and feel him sag before me on a sharp intake on breath. I can see the angry welts and beads of blood across his back. ‘I thought I was working you out.’ My voice is trembling. ‘You’ve destroyed me again, Jesse.’

  ‘Ava, please. I was a mess. I lost control. I thought I could fight you out of my head.’

  ‘By getting pissed and fucking other women?’

  ‘I didn’t know what to do.’ he says quietly.

  ‘You could have talked to me.’

  ‘Ava, you would have run away from me again.’

  ‘All of the apologies you’ve been giving me were because your conscience was eating away at you. It wasn’t because you were drunk, or because of The Manor. It’s because you screwed around on me. You said you hadn’t dabbled since way before me. You’ve lied to me. Every time I think we’ve made progress, more bombshells. I can’t cope with this anymore. I don’t know who you are, Jesse.’

  ‘Ava, you do know me.’ He looks up at me with pleading eyes. ‘I’ve fucked up. I’ve really fucked up, but no one knows me better than you, no one.’

  ‘Sarah might do. She seems to know you very well.’ I say with zero emotion. ‘Why?’

  He collapses onto his heels and drops his head. ‘I’ve let you down. I wanted a drink, but I promised you I wouldn’t, and I know what’s likely to happen if I do.’

  I wince at his admission. ‘So you had yourself whipped?’

  ‘Yes.’

  My stomach joins my heart in my throat. ‘I don’t understand.’

  His head remains dropped. ‘Ava, you know I’ve led a colourful life.’ His voice is quiet. He’s ashamed. ‘I’ve broken marriages, treated women like objects and taken what’s not mine. I’ve damaged people, and I feel like all of this is my penance. I’ve found my little piece of heaven and I feel like everyone is going out of their way to take it away from me.’

  The lump in my throat grows further. ‘YOU are the only one who’s going to fuck this up. Just you. You drinking, you being a control freak, you fucking other women. YOU!’

  ‘I could have stopped it all. I can’t believe I’ve got you. I’m terrified you’re going to be taken away from me.’

  ‘So you ask a woman I despise, a woman who wants to take you away from me, to whip you?’

  He frowns as he looks up to me. ‘Sarah doesn’t want to take me away from you.’

  I shake my head in frustration. ‘Yes, Jesse, she does! You doing this to yourself is agony for me. You are punishing me, not you.’ I’m desperate for him to see this. ‘I love you, despite all of the shit you keep landing on me, but I can’t watch you do this to yourself.’

  ‘Don’t leave me.’ He grinds the words out, reaching up and grabbing at my hands. ‘I’ll die before I’m without you, Ava.’

  ‘Don’t say that!’ I shout at him. ‘That’s crazy talk.’

  He yanks me back down to my knees. ‘It’s not crazy. That nightmare I had when you were gone. Just like that – gone. It gave me a clue of what it would be like without you.’ He’s in such a state. ‘Ava, it killed me.’

  His repeated apologies in his sleep make sense now. I left him in his dream because I found out about the other women. ‘If I left, it would be because I can’t watch you hurt yourself – I can’t watch you torture yourself anymore.’

  ‘You could never understand how much I love you.’ He reaches for my face, and I pull away. That statement just makes me fuming mad. ‘Let me touch you.’ he demands, trying to grab at me. He’s becoming frantic and panicked and it’s ripping my insides out.

  ‘I do understand, Jesse, because I feel the same!’ I yell. ‘Even though you’ve fucked me over completely, I still fucking love you and I fucking hate myself for it. So don’t you dare tell me I don’t understand!’

  ‘It’s not possible.’ He grasps the tops of my arms and pulls me forward on a hiss. ‘It’s just not fucking possible!’ His voice is severe. He really does believe that.

  I let him pull me into his chest and smother me, but I can’t even put my arms around him. I’m emotionally drained and completely numb. My strong, dominant playboy is reduced to a frightened, desperate soul. I want my fierce Jesse back.

  ‘I’m going to get something to clean you up with.’ I struggle from his fighting arms. ‘Jesse, I need to clean you up.’

  ‘Don’t walk away from me.’

  I break free and stand myself up. ‘I said I would never leave you. I meant it.’ I turn and leave him on his knees, walking from his office in a complete daze.

  I’m not going to get anything to clean his back up. A bit of attention on his wounds is not going to prove anything. There is only one way I can get him to comprehend that I understand how he feels. And if that’s what it takes, then I’ll do it.

  Chapter 31

  I bypass the toilets, the busy bar and the restaurant quickly. I don’t need to be seeing Kate, or any of the others, for that matter. And if I clap eyes on Sarah, then I’m likely to end up at a police station because I won’t stop thrashing her with that whip until I’ve sliced her in half. Anyway, it won’t be long before he comes looking for me, so I need to be quick.

  I reach the entrance hall and take the stairs two at a time, walking quickly around the gallery landing and ignoring the women’s harsh stares. But then I spot her. I know I should keep going. I know I should resist the temptation to throttle her, but the overwhelming urge gets the better of me.

  I approach her. She’s chatting to a few female members, no doubt filling them in on the events of the past hour. She’s still kitted out in her leather gear, whip still in hand. I stop behind her, the other women silencing immediately. Obviously curious to the sudden halt in conversation, she turns to face me. Her expression is superior, with a little sick satisfaction mixed in there too. My blood boils as she stands in front of me, relaxed in her pose, twirling the whip in her grasp.

  ‘Yo
u sent me a text from John’s phone.’ I accuse calmly.

  She almost laughs. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

  ‘Of course you don’t.’ I shake my head disbelievingly. ‘You also let me into The Manor when I discovered the communal room.’

  ‘Now, why would I do that?’ she asks cockily.

  ‘Because you want him.’ My voice is amazingly calm, considering my blood is boiling and I’m physically shaking. I can feel the other women’s stares burning through my skin. I spread my gaze over all of them. ‘You all want him.’

  None of them say a word. They all stand there watching me, probably anticipating my next move.

  Sarah can’t keep her trap shut, though. ‘No, little girl, we’ve all had him.’

  I snap.

  My fist bunches and flies out, cracking her clean across her botox pumped face, sending her staggering back on her heels and to her arse. I don’t stop there. I grab her hair in the most unladylike, cattish fashion and haul her up, pinning her against the wall by her throat. Shocked gasps ring out through the air before silence falls and the only sound is Sarah’s stunned breathing.

  ‘You EVER lay a finger on him again, requested or not, and I won’t stop until I’ve snapped every bone in your fucking body. Do you understand me?’

  Her eyes are wide. I can feel her shaking under my hold.

  ‘DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME?’ I scream the words in her face. I’ve lost control.

  ‘Yes.’ she squeaks quietly, shifting under my vice grip of her throat. I’m restricting her breathing.

  I release her and she crumbles to the floor in a heap of leather, gasping and gripping at her neck. I’m shaking with anger as I turn and absorb the shocked expressions of many witnesses, all standing in stunned silence. I don’t need to say anymore. I’ve made my point pretty clear to Sarah and every other person stood observing my meltdown. I leave them all and carry on my way to my original destination, shaking violently, breathing heavily. As I reach the bottom of the stairs to the communal room, I waiver for a few seconds, but as soon as I remember Jesse’s words, I race up the stairs with nothing but adrenalin and determination coursing through my veins.