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“Great, Luigi.” I can barely talk with the lust clogging my throat. “Thank you.” I narrow my eyes further as Ava melts me with her blazing stare. She’s egging me on. And fuck, I’m game.
“The bill, please, Luigi.” Get her home. Get her naked. Get her in bed.
Luigi, God love that man, is back in a flash. I stuff my hand in my pocket and toss a pile of cash down, then claim her.
“We’re going.” My dick is beginning to weep, my heart is bashing relentlessly. I’ve never been so desperate to be inside a woman. Kissing her. Showing her.
“Are you in a hurry?” she asks, her feet moving fast as I guide her out of the restaurant.
“Yes.” I spin her and thrust her up against the side of my Aston, rolling my groin into her, demonstrating my rock-hard situation. My forehead on hers, I pant, and she’s right there with me. “I’m going to fuck you until you’re seeing stars, Ava.” I thrust forward, and she moans. “You won’t be going to work tomorrow because you won’t be able to walk.” That’s a promise. “Get in the car.” She doesn’t move, can’t move. She’s useless. Needs me to help her.
I open the door and deposit her in my car, and as I’m rounding the back to get in, my mobile rings. I laugh sardonically, leaving it in my pocket. It’ll be John or Sarah, or someone else that’ll beckon me away. No. Wild horses won’t get me away. Whatever it is, whoever it is, can wait.
Tonight, I’m all hers, and she is all mine.
24
I’m so intolerantof the other drivers on the road. Throbbing behind my jeans. Impatient to get her back to Lusso. It’s a short journey, but the longest fucking drive ever. My Aston is bursting at the seams with sexual tension, so much so, I’m forced to crank the aircon up to circulate some air.
I glance across to Ava. I shouldn’t have. She’s rigid, her fingers clawing at the seat by her thighs, her chest expanding on every inhale. Not in all my time frequenting the rooms of The Manor have I seen a woman so hungry for me. And that’s a feat on her part. I’m not being a conceited twat. I’m being real. She’s so into me, desperate for me, set to beg for me, this beautiful,normal,pure, real,youngwoman, and that turns me on like nothing else.
I reach up and wipe my upper lip, puffing out my cheeks, part in disbelief, part in awe. She’s the impossible. The unthinkable. The cure. And tonight, I’m going to speak to her in a way she’ll understand because, fuck knows, she could never comprehend the actual words.
The gates to Lusso come into view, and I tap my steering wheel constantly as I wait for them to open. She looks across the car at me. “You’re going to have a seizure if you don’t calm down.”
My hands stop tapping, and I meet her hungry gaze. “Ava, I’ve had a fucking seizure every day since I’ve met you.” Whether caused by pleasure or stress.
The gates finally grant me access, and I put my foot down.
“You’re swearing a lot,” she muses.
“And you’re going to be screaming a lot. Out.” I eject myself from my car fast, joining her on the other side. She’s not even got one leg out of my Aston by the time I make it to her. When the hell did she turn into a fucking tortoise? Can’t she see my urgency? And where the fuck has hers gone? “What are you doing?”
She pouts, taking a lazy gaze around the docks. “Do you fancy a walk?”
A walk? What does she think this is, a 1920s romance novel? I couldn’t have heard her right. “Do I fancy a walk?”
“Yes,” she says, cool, casual, but I can see the slight lift of her mouth. She’s playing. “It’s a lovely evening.”
It is. But it will be even lovelier when I get her naked. “No, Ava.” I move in. “I fancy fucking you until you beg me to stop.” Dipping, I seize her and haul her over my shoulder, loving her exhale of surprise. One day, she’ll be so used to me picking her up, she’ll stop being surprised.Do I fancy a walk?I scoff and do the unthinkable. I kick my car door closed. My two-hundred-grand car. That’s how desperate I am. That’s what she does to me.
“Jesse,” she yelps as I pace into Lusso. “I’ll walk!”
“Not fast enough. Good evening, Clive.”
“I’m not drunk,” she blurts, and I frown, catching the concierge’s look of alarm. Yes, I’m a caveman. Confirmed. But she’ll learn. Don’t deprive me. Don’t play games. I smack the code into the panel in the elevator and look over my shoulder, smiling. It drops the moment the minx slips her hands past my jeans. The heat spreads like wildfire. Uncontrollable. Uncontained.
I’m one stroke away from dropping her and taking her here and now. Jesus. My teeth press together, and I close my eyes, willing myself to hold on just a little while longer. I open my eyes and watch as the dial ticks painfully slowly through the floors.Come on.
The doors open, and I’m out fast, struggling to walk with the bulge I’m packing. “No fucking about.” Let’s be clear. She needs to lose whatever sassy streak she’s found and give me what I need before I combust. “I want inside you now. You fuck about, I swear to God—”
“You’re so romantic,” she says, close to a giggle.
“We’ve got all the time in the world for romance, lady.”
I make it to the kitchen—I don’t know how—and let her slip down my front slowly, my body folding, a suppressed moan vibrating at the back of my throat. She’s clinging to me for support, can hardly stand on her own two feet, and I’ve not even started yet. “You know,” I say, sounding in control but feeling anything but, “you’re really not going to be in a fit state to work tomorrow. Strip, now.”
Her surprise is endearing. She thought I’d rip off her clothes. No. I’m starving for her, but this won’t be rushed. Every moment will be slow, giving her mind space to process it. This will be the loudest I’ve ever spoken, and I pray she hears me.
