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“Come along now, dear. Make yourself useful.”
I dip to scoop up some clothes, thoroughly pussy-whipped—couldn’t give a fuck—and smile, but it falters, my body half bent. Ava called Kate and she hasn’t mentioned anything about last night. Which definitely means Kate has not told Ava.
I abandon her clothes and go to the kitchen, finding my phone, stalling when I see it’s moved. I look back at the door.
“What’s taking you so long,” she yells. “I’ll be here a whole year.”
“Hopefully,” I grumble, returning my attention to my mobile.Definitelymoved. I scoop it up and go to my call history, withdrawing when I see one from Coral twenty minutes ago. And it wasn’t a missed call. “What the fuck?” I whisper, opening the details. Forty seconds. It’s not long, but really fucking long. A lot can be said in forty seconds. So what was said, and why hasn’t Ava mentioned it? I bite at my lip, looking at the doorway when Ava appears, smiling, her cheeks flushed.
“Come on, muscles, I have half of Harrods to get upstairs.”
I force a smile and discard my phone, moving in on her and tossing her over my shoulder, slapping her arse. I don’t know what was said, but she’s still here and she’s still talking to me, so I assume Ava was the one to speak the most, and after this morning, I can’t imagine it was all very pleasant. She’s trampling. Fine. I’m done with Coral. Ava can have at her. But she’s got a nerve being in my phone when she’s kicked up such a stink about me playing with hers.
“Carry the clothes, not me,” she says, laughing. I dip, Ava still on my shoulder, and grab a few bags, passing them back to her before getting some more. Then I take the stairs up to the dressing room and lower everything to the carpet, Ava last. She blows her hair out of her face and starts walking up and down, scanning the rails, and I look around my feet, lowering to pick up something familiar. I frown at the dress. Theveryshort,veryskimpy gray dress. This was a no.What the fuck, Zoe?I’ll be calling her. And this dress will be disappearing the moment Ava’s not here. I drop it on a snarl and look up, finding Ava looking overwhelmed again.
“I don’t know where to start.”
“It’s easy,” I say, stepping into one section and gathering the row of suits, unhooking them and carrying them to the end section, looping them over the rail. “Done.”
“What about them?” she asks, pointing to a pile of stonewash jeans.
“What about them?”
“Can you move those too?”
I shrug and take the neat stack, putting them on the top shelf, stretching. Smiling. Because she’s admiring me. I peek over my shoulder. Smirk. For someone who opposed moving into Lusso at every turn, she seems quite settled in. “Anything else, dear?” I face her, giving her my chest, and take the time to admire her legs. She has the most amazing legs. Even better when they’re wrapped around me. So I take her waist and lift her, and they automatically curl around my hips, her arms around my neck. I look up. Wrinkle my nose. She kisses it.
“It’ll take days at this rate,” she says.
“And that’s a problem because?”
“It’s a problem because I am going out tonight.” Lowering her mouth, she drops the gentlest kiss on my lips, and I’m done for. Fuck the dressing room, the clothes. Now this is the kind of perfect day I was hoping for, and as I deepen our kiss, so does she, humming her pleasure, pushing her chest into mine. “I want you,” she whispers.
Of course she does.
I walk us out of the dressing room, lay her on the bed, and watch as she wriggles free of the shirt and I drag my boxers down. I crawl my way to her, my eyes dragging over every inch of her skin until I make it to her eyes. Her lips twitch, her hands on my shoulders, her breathing becoming rushed. Anticipation.
I kiss her gently, swivel my hips, and we both breathe out as I sink into her.
40
She’s doingher utmost to ignore me as she gets herself ready for her night out, but I’m strategically placing myself in prime spots and my body in prime positions—showcasing my physique, acting casual—so she can’t. It’s highly amusing, observing her playing tug of war with her resistance.
I watch her hurry out of the bathroom, escaping the temptation, lifting my head off the chaise to watch her go. Then dropping it in exasperation. She’s a determined little thing today. It’s time to pull out the big guns.
I get up and go after her, catching her wrist as she’s entering the dressing room. She doesn’t show enough surprise for me to think she’s actually surprised. She’s been expecting this.Beggingfor this. I tug her towel off, toss her on the bed, and flip her onto all fours, gazing down her spine to her arse, smoothing over it with my palm. “You won’t come.” Not unless she gives me what I want. I slip my fingers into her, inhaling, seeing her back arch like a cat and her head drop, her beautifully blow-dried hair fanning the sheets. “This is for my pleasure, not yours.” I stroke the warm, soft walls of her pussy, my mouth parted, the sight quite something. But she’s tense. Tight. She knows what’s coming.
“Oh God,” she moans.
“Relax,” I say, holding my cock, slipping the head over her pussy, feeling her tightening, making it difficult for me to enter her. “Damn it, Ava, stop fighting me.”
“You’re going to desert me, aren’t you?” she asks, breathless, smacking the mattress with a balled fist. “You’re not going to see me through.”
“That’s my call, baby.” I deliver a stinger of a slap to her arse and caress the instant blemish, growling when she refuses to relax, taking my hand beneath us and slipping my fingers through her saturated pussy. She moans, softening, and I slip straight into her on a strangled groan, my shakes instant. She starts moving immediately, trying to seize the pleasure. Not today. I pull out.
“No,” she yells.
“Oh, yes.” I slip my fingers back into her, making sure I add some friction to her buzzing nub of nerves. She tries to grab it again. I withdraw. There will be no orgasm for my lady this time, unless, of course, she surrenders. I guide my dick to her opening.
