I pull her top drawer open and nearly drop to my knees with the amount of lace that greets me.Fucking hell.“Ava will pretend she’s opposed for the sake of it. I’m just moving the inevitable along.” I scoop up a pile of lace, piles and piles of lace, and stuff it in the bag.
“Or perhaps you’re making it as difficult as possible for her to leave when you tell her you’re the Lord of the Sex Manor.”
“Lord?” I laugh, going back to the drawer to close it, stalling when I see something in the bottom corner.Look away from the pills.I cast a look over my shoulder as Kate enters the room.
“That’s what she calls you,” she says, falling to the bed with Sam. “The Lord. I’d personally call you a fucking rhinoceros. What the fuck are you playing at?”
I grab the packet of pills and discreetly slip them into my pocket as I turn and face my audience. Lord of The Manor. That’s what most women around there call me. Ava’s no different . . . but so, so different. “Like I explained to your naked boyfriend, I’m just moving things along.”
“He’s not my boyfriend.”
“What if he wanted to be?” Sam counters, and both Kate and I balk at him. Fuck, this is more serious than I thought.
“I’ll leave you two to it.” I slip out with Ava’s things, and the moment I’m on the street, I pull the pills from my pocket and drop them down the drain.
Done.
Gone.
Once in my car, I crank the music up to drown out the sound of Jake and my conscience.
I creep around my bedroom and dressing room like a super sleuth, unpacking her things and setting her cosmetics in the bathroom just so. And it feels right. All of it feels right. If there’s one thing I’ve learned about my girl, it’s that she sometimes needs gentle persuasion to do what she really wants to do but won’t do because she’s a stubborn sod. I’m effectively eradicating the potential of a row. I’m doing us both a favor.
I back out of my dressing room, taking one last look at her dresses hanging next to my suits. “My work here is done,” I say quietly, stripping down and going to the bed, crawling up to her, chuffed with myself and my work. I drop endless kisses onto her face, and she starts to stir. “Rise and shine, lady.”
Her eyes open. She frowns up at me. I can see her mind giving her a sordid replay of last night, and I brace myself for the fireworks.
“I’m not talking to you,” she grumbles groggily, shoving me away and flipping onto her side. I scowl at her lace-covered arse and slap it hard, pulling her back and pinning her down. “That hurt!”
I grin at her. She’s confused, wondering why I’m smiling and not puffing like a raging bull. Not today. Today is going to be so perfect that leaving me will be unthinkable. “Now,” I start, spelling it out for her. “Today can go one of two ways. You can stop being unreasonable and we’ll have a lovely day together, or you can continue being a defiant little temptress and I’ll be forced to handcuff you to the bed and dig you in your tickle spot until you lose consciousness.” God, I’d love to tickle her stupid, just to hear her chuckles. But I’m hoping she’ll opt for option one without fuss. “What’s it to be, baby?” I dazzle her with my megawatt smile while she thinks, still clearly confused. Then she brings her face closer, and everything inside tingles.Yes, I’ll take a kiss in answer.
“Fuck... off,” she snarls, and my face drops like a rock.
“Watch your fucking mouth.”
“No! What the hell are you doing having doormen advise you of my movements?”
I sigh and drop my head. I have to try and explain with words rather than actions. “Ava, I just want to make sure you’re safe. I worry, that’s all.”
“I’m twenty-six years old, Jesse.”
Yes, and that’s part of my problem. I’m hot, I know I’m hot, but I’m far from in my mid-twenties anymore. There are plenty of eligible bachelors who are, though, all with clean pasts and no demons, and they’re waiting on the sidelines ready to whisk her off her feet. And in that dress? “Why did you wear that dress?”
“To piss you off,” she snarls, fighting my hold of her. And there we have it. Pure and utter irrational behavior.
“But you thought you weren’t going to see me.”
“It’s the principle.”
Principle? Fuck that. It’s nothing but stupidity. I hope she realizes it now, and if she doesn’t, I’ll happily shred all ridiculous dresses until she does.
“You owe me a dress,” she mutters, and I smile, knocking her back a little.
“We’ll put it on our list of things to do today,” I say. I’ll buy her a million dresses, all beautiful, all expensive.
All below the knee.
But she’ll be stunning in them, and I’ll preserve my sanity.