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I inhale and circle myself at the root, exhaling from the relief, just from the pressure. And I start to stroke, slowly, imagining it’s Ava’s pussy encasing me. It’s the only way. I haven’t wanked off for years, haven’t needed to, and I shouldn’t need to now. I tighten my fist and increase my pace, resting a hand on the edge of the vanity unit, bracing myself, leaning into it. My breaths come short and fast, the tingles come hard and intense, the blood surges rapidly. “Fuck,” I hiss through clenched teeth, the muscles in my arm starting to burn, my thrusts becoming chaotic. I growl, curse, close my eyes, replaying her words, hearing her voice, seeing her eyes.
Take me.
I pump fast, chasing my release.
You weren’t imagining it.
My speed increases even more, the end teasing me.
I love you.I need you.
My dick explodes, cum shooting across the vanity, and my lungs drain, my exhale loud and long. “Shit,” I breathe, my muscles relaxing, my arm taking the weight of my body leaning into it. I look up at my reflection. Alone. No Ava to smother post-orgasm. No soft skin to kiss. A neck to nuzzle. It’s the most unsatisfying release I’ve ever had.
But it was a means to an end. A lot like my past sex life.
And it won’t ever happen again.
I clean up, shower, dry off, brush my teeth, and throw on some old jeans and a white T-shirt faster than Sarah can flick her whip. Fucking fast.
As I exit the bedroom, I feel down my rough face. Shaving feels like a terrible way to spend time these days. I run a hand through my damp hair as I reach the top of the stairs, slowing my pace when I see Ava slumped in a chair. She’s speaking quietly. Looks forlorn.
“It’s nothing like Matt says, Mum.” My hackles rise. Matt? What the fuck has Matt said? And to Ava’s mother? My blood starts to simmer, and the only thing stopping it from boiling over is the screaming despondency coating Ava’s face. “Mum, listen,” she goes on, clearly pacifying her. “I’ve got to get to work.” I feel my shoulders sag, anger making way for disappointment. She’s lying to her mother to avoid havingtheconversation. The conversation aboutme. “Please, don’t be. Matt wanted me back.” Her hand covers her face. “He pounced on me when I went to collect the last of my things and turned nasty when I rebuffed him.” Matt turned nasty? With Ava? Fuck me, the emotions in me right now are see-sawing. I’m back to being angry. “Jesse was just protecting me.” The mention of my name only alleviates it a teeny, tiny smidge. Has the man got a death wish? Hanging around The Manor, hitting on Ava,morethan once, calling her parents. Does he know who he’s dealing with? I start to shake with rage, and that just makes me all the more fucking angry with Matt. Today isourday. Just about us. Can’t he just fuck off? “Yes,” Ava breathes. “I’m just seeing him.” I see her cringe from here. And if she was looking at me, she’d see the steam coming out of my ears. “It’s nothing serious.”
I cough under my breath. Yeah, that stings.
“He’s not an alcoholic, Mum. Matt’s being spiteful, ignore him. And don’t answer any more of his calls.” Fuck me, someone hold me back. Could the arsehole stoop any lower? I watch as Ava continues to pacify her mother. I’m fucking livid.
She eventually cuts the call, blindly discards her mobile, and closes her eyes. Exhausted. Everything about her radiates tiredness. Sadness.Fucking hell.There’s so much from that conversation that’s enraged me, but as I stare at her now, all I want to do is make her feel better. Show her that all this shit isn’t for nothing.
I take the stairs slowly, my instinct pulling me to her, demanding I make everything okay. Comfort her. Chase away her woes. Ironic, really, isn’t it? I’m the root of her problems, both current and those on the horizon. But isn’t that the beauty of horizons? They can never be reached, going on forever, stretching into the distance. Far away.
I can’t show Ava my anger, but more than that, I can’t show her my hopelessness. So I pluck a smile from nowhere and place a hand on each arm of the chair she’s in, towering over her. Yet when she opens her eyes and I see the vast bleakness in them, I can’t maintain my false sprightliness. Everything in me sags. “What’s up?” I silently beg her not to try to convince me all is well. I don’t think I’ll be able to hold my temper and stop myself going on a manhunt. But I see her reluctance. Her worry. “Hey, tell me. No more secrets.” What a fucking prick I am. Lowering to my haunches, I implore her to share, to be open with me.
“Okay.” She looks straight into my eyes, and I take her hands, encouraging her, seeing plain as day her lingering hesitance, as well as I can feel my lingering fury. She inhales, and her words come rushing out with the air. “Matt phoned my parents and told them I’m shacked up with a raving alcoholic who beat him up.” She presses her lips together, watching me with wide eyes, moving back slightly, like she’s seeing the unbridled rage rising in me and needs to get out of its reach.
Shacked up? He makes it sound sordid. Raving alcoholic? Slight exaggeration. And I beat him up? I punched him. But I’ll happily make that part of his pile of bullshit accurate.
“I’m not an alcoholic.”
“I know.” Her voice is small and timid. “Jesse, how does he know?”
I rise, feeling too coiled crouched on the floor, hoping stretching my body out will release the tension. Good fucking question. “I don’t know, Ava.” But I will be finding out, as well as teaching Matt a lesson or two in telling tales. First, don’t fucking do it, especially when they star me or Ava. Second, if he can’t stop himself, at least don’t fucking embellish it.
But...back to today, which isn’t panning out how I hoped. My sole purpose right now is to get on with our day before I let Matt ruin it. “We need to have a chat with Cathy.”
“Why do we need a chat with Cathy?”
“She’s been away. She needs to know stuff.” I get Ava up from the chair, looking down at the half dress she’s wearing. Honestly, I want to march her back up the stairs and get her into something far more reasonable, but judging by the look on her face, that won’t go down all too well and today has already been too much. And it’s only nine.
“Like what?”
“I don’t know, that’s why we need to talk to her.” Specifics, Cathy said.
“No.You, Jesse,” she counters, removing her hand from mine, stopping me from taking her into the kitchen. “This isyourplace, she isyourhousekeeper.”
Really? She’s going to do this now? Hasn’t there been enough tension for her today? “Ours,” I bark, pulling her into me, trapping her. “You really know how to rub me up the wrong way.” And the right way, actually.Whenshe doesn’t abandon me. I subtlety press against her. “Which reminds me. That was cruel and unreasonable. I waited upstairs and you didn’t show.”
“What did you do?” she asks on a suppressed giggle. This is it. This is more like it. No shit, not today.
