‘I’ll start the bath and get the cases. Will you be okay?’
‘Hmmm.’ I roll onto my side. I can’t even be bothered to have a bath with Jesse, and that is unheard of. I hear him laugh lightly and the running of water from the en-suite, and then he’s picking me up again. ‘I thought you were getting the cases.’ I mumble.
‘I already did, Ava. You drifted off again.’ He places me on my tired feet and strips me down, before unclothing himself with one hand while holding me steady with the other, like he thinks I could collapse. I think I really could. I have zero energy.
I’m lifted from my feet and sunk into the bath with him, and I don’t help at all. I let him position me so I’m cradled in his arms on his lap, the side of my face settled snuggly on his shoulder. The hot water is doing nothing to wake me up.
‘I’ve missed this.’ My self-professed tub man says quietly. ‘I know you’re tired, but I just want a few minutes.’
‘Okay.’ I agree. As long as he dries me off and puts me to bed afterwards, then he can do what he likes with me.
‘And I need to service you.’ he adds. My sleepy eyes snap right open, and my lusty brain quickly engages. I can definitely find the energy from somewhere for that. I go to shift, but I’m held in place as he laughs. ‘Jesus, Ava. You fucking would as well, wouldn’t you?’
‘Always.’
‘I’m touched, but I like my wife conscious when I fuck her.’
‘Don’t say the word fuck.’ I grumble. ‘That’ll just make me want you more.’
‘Is that even possible?’ he asks seriously.
‘Probably not.’ I don’t bother scoffing at his arrogance. He’s right. ‘Let me see you.’ I complain, wriggling from his iron grip. I haul my exhausted body up and straddle his lap, reaching up to feel his nearly two days’ worth of stubble. ‘Don’t shave tomorrow.’
‘No?’
‘No. Day two is my favourite day.’ I lean in so I can run my cheek up his. ‘And I want you to wear your grey suit and black shirt.’
‘Tie or no tie?’
‘Tie. Your grey one, knotted loosely.’ I kiss my way to his lips and slip my tongue past them gently.
He returns my kiss, tenderly, sweetly, lovingly. ‘If you get to decide what I wear, then it’s only fair that I get to decide what you wear.’
‘You do anyway.’
‘No I don’t because you won’t let me.’ His hands find the back of my head and pull me closer.
‘What do you want me to wear?’ I practically moan the words against his lips.
‘Your black dress.’
‘The one that comes to my knee and has three quarter length sleeves?’
‘That’s the one. I love any dress you wear, but I really love that one.’ He bites down on my lip and pulls away, dragging my lip through his teeth as he does. ‘No,’ he whispers.
I’m going to be slighted again. I can tell by the resoluteness on his devastating face. He’s probably right to refuse me, but it won’t stop the budding desire that’s attacking my insatiable being. I’m always greedy for him, but lately I’ve been relentless. ‘You said you can’t say no to me.’ I catch a naughty rub of my groin into his. I have no shame.
‘I can when you’re barely keeping your eyes open, lady. The answer is no, end of.’ His big hands clench my hips warningly, and I jerk a little before I’m turned around so he can run the soaking sponge across my back. ‘Pregnancy is playing havoc with your hormones.’
‘Only if you continue to refuse me. You’re giving me a complex, and I’m not even fat yet.’
‘Ava,’ he snaps. ‘Pregnancy is also making you deluded. Stop it.’
I sigh to myself and drop my head between my bent knees, pulling my hair over my shoulder to give him access to my entire back. His rhythmic caresses with the sponge make my eyes heavy again, and I give in to my fatigue, letting Jesse have his way. The second he refuses me when I’m not mentally and physically exhausted, all hell will break loose.
‘Thank you for taking me to Paradise.’ I murmur quietly.
He kisses my shoulder and rests his mouth at my ear. ‘Baby, you take me to Paradise every day.’
* * *
I’m not a happy bunny. He’s woken, gone for a run, showered and dressed, all without me, but he left my ginger biscuit and folic acid by the bed with some water. I’m standing in front of the floor length mirror in my lace, drying my hair, when I see him in the reflection, strolling into the bedroom. I’ll give him just a little credit. He’s not shaved and he has on his grey suit, black shirt and the tie I requested, but it doesn’t improve my mood, even if he does look edible.
‘Morning,’ he chirps, all happy and awake.
I flip him a scowl and chuck my hairdryer on the floor before stalking into the wardrobe to find something to wear. I know what I should be pulling down from the hanger, but in a fit of pure childishness, I pick something else, pulling it on and zipping it up quickly. I exit the wardrobe and slip my feet into my black suede heels, and then head straight for the bathroom. I’m aware of his large frame to the side of me, following my every move. I snatch a quick look as I pass and see his hands resting lightly in his trouser pockets and an amused expression on his face. I don’t humour him with my time or silver tongue, instead finding my way to the bathroom mirror and making fast work of my make-up.
He walks in and comes to stand behind me, his fresh water loveliness smacking me right in the nose. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’ he asks, still displaying amusement on his face.
I pause, mid-mascara application, and pull back from the mirror. ‘I’m putting my make-up on.’ I answer, knowing this is not what he means.
‘Let me rephrase that. What do you think you’re wearing?’
‘A dress.’
His eyebrows hit his hairline. ‘Let’s not start the day on a bad note, lady.’ He holds my black pencil dress up. ‘Put the dress on.’
I take a deep breath of calm, and turn to take the dress before exiting the bathroom without a word. I’ll put the dress on, but only because I’m worked up enough. Not only have I been snatched from Paradise, but, as predicted, I’ve also been tossed off Central Jesse Cloud Nine. London does our relationship absolutely no favours. No, let me rephrase that. Jesse in London does our relationship no favours.
I go out of my way to make the biggest deal of demonstrating the inconvenience he’s causing, not that he’s bothered. He stands patiently and observes as I remove my unauthorised dress and replace it with the one he’s sanctioned. Reaching behind my back, I grasp the zipper and pull it up my back, but I only get halfway before I lose my grip of the little piece of metal. I quickly locate it again, but the same thing happens.
I close my eyes, hating having to ask the smug arse for assistance. ‘Will you zip me up, please?’
‘Of course,’ he chirps, and the next second he’s pressed against my back, his mouth at my ear. ‘With great pleasure.’ he murmurs, instigating a ferocious wave of treacherous tingles to ride through me. My hair is grasped and draped down my front before he takes the zip and tugs. ‘Oh dear.’
‘What? Is it broken?’ I could laugh. Not because my dress is damaged, I love this dress, but because I know he won’t send me to work with material gaping open at my back.
‘Urm…’ he tries again. ‘No, baby. I think you may have grown out of it.’