This Man Confessed / Page 19

Page 19

Author: Jodi Ellen Malpas

I’m crushed, my racing mind thinking up all sorts of explanations for his quiet absence over the last four days—where he’s been, what he’s been doing. He’s clearly not mourning his loss. He looks arrogant, confident and sickeningly handsome—just like he did on the day I met him. They are all familiar traits to me, but right now, they are all enhanced. He knows the effect he’s having on me and all of the other women dribbling at his heels.

Uncertainty and raging jealously are strangling me, and I’m still staring at him, watching as he assaults the women surrounding him with that fucking face, making them disintegrate on the spot.

Oh yes, there he is, my husband, looking like he’s just landed from planet fucking perfect. My eyes narrow as I watch a black haired, red dress woman stroke his arm, and I literally hold myself back from physically removing her. But I left him, although he’s clearly not that bothered. I laugh to myself. He needs me? It certainly doesn’t look like it.

I’m aware of the silence in our group, so I drag my eyes away from my bastard of a husband and see Kate watching me closely, Tom dribbling along with the other hussies and Victoria scuffing her ridiculous heels on the bar floor in an awkward silence. I shake my head on a little laugh and take a massive swig of the wine I’ve been carefully sipping, flicking my eyes briefly over in his direction. He knows I’m watching. If he wants to play games, then I’m willing, and I don’t plan of settling for anything less than gold.

‘Let’s dance.’ I down the rest of my wine and slam the glass on the bar before pushing my way through the small crowds until I find myself on the dance floor. When I turn around, I find my three loyal friends have all joined me.

Kate looks nervous. I make a snatch for her wine, but she swipes it away. ‘Don’t be stupid, Ava.’ she warns seriously. ‘I know you’re still pregnant.’

I’m trying to piece together something to strike back with, but nothing is coming to me, so in an act of complete stupidity, I turn and stomp over to the bar. I know he’s watching me, and I know Kate is, too, but it doesn’t stop me from ordering and then downing a fresh glass in one foul swoop before returning to the floor.

‘What are you trying to prove?’ Kate yells at me. ‘Because if it’s that you’re a fucking twat, then you’re succeeding.’ Her words would probably hit a nerve if the alcohol wasn’t getting in the way. I don’t care.

I’m distracted from my pissed off friend by Tom’s squeal, his eyes lighting up when the DJ launches Rob D Clubbed to death. He pounces on me. ‘Get me a whistle, shove me in some hot pants and put me on that podium! Ibiza!’

I shut my mind down, cancelling out all thoughts of my infuriating man, and let the music take me, my body falling into sync with the track, my arms rising above my head and my eyes closing. I’m in a world of my own. My only awareness is of the loud music and me at the centre of it.

I’m lost.


Silently devastated.

But he’s near.

I can sense him. I can smell his fresh water scent closing in, and then there’s his touch. My arms slowly fall as I feel his palm slide across my stomach, his groin pressing into my lower back, his hot breath in my ear. I’m surrounded by him, and even though I should be pushing him away, I can’t. My blank mind remains blank, and I start moving with him as he kisses my neck, his hard cock pushing into my back. I’m powerless to stop my head from falling slightly to the side, giving him better access. My throat’s taut, making me hyper-sensitive to his firm tongue, which is trailing straight up my vein until he’s at me ear, breathing heavy, hot, controlled breaths. I can’t help it. I moan and push myself back, further into him.

The music seems to get louder, his handling of me more severe and before I can open my eyes, I’m being dragged from the dance floor. I could try to stop him, but I don’t. I follow his lead until I’m being pulled through the corridor towards the toilets, everything around me seeming slow and slurred as I focus only on his broad back in front of me. As we approach the end of the passageway, I glance back and see Jay watching us, then Jesse turns and gives him the nod before opening the door to a disabled toilet and pushing me inside. The door is swiftly shut, the lock flipped and within a second, I’m pushed up against the wall by his body. The music is louder, and I look up, seeing integrated speakers in the ceiling, but my face is soon yanked back down. Our eyes meet. His greens are dark, completely smoked out and his lips are slightly parted. I’m panting as he takes my wrists and pulls them up, pinning them on either side of my head before he leans in and takes my bottom lips between his teeth and bites down, then pulls away, dragging it between his grip. I’ve lost all control of my bodily reactions. My belly is turning, shifting the thump that’s hammering away inside of me straight down to my core. I’m desperate for him, but the placing of my hands and his hard body compressed to mine is preventing me from moving anything but my head, so I reach forward with my lips, but he ducks my aim. This is going to be on his terms. His lips hover over mine, only millimetres from my reach. His hot, minty breath heats my face, but then he pulls away. He’s teasing me. I’m waiting for him to ask if I want him, and I’m more than ready to blurt my answer.

My husky voice breaks. ‘Kiss me,’ I’m begging, I’m aware of it, but I don’t care. I want and need him all over me.

His face is completely impassive as he flexes his grip on my wrists and increases the pressure of his body against mine. He slowly moves his face forward, his green orbs penetrating me completely, and tickles my lips with his. I moan and try to capture them, but he pulls away again, still poker-faced, still completely controlled. Not me, though. I’m about to go crazy with desperation.

‘Kiss me,’ I demand harshly.

He ignores me and shifts one of my arms across to meet the other, then takes both of my wrists in one grasp. With his other hand, he reaches down and places his fingertip on my knee, and slowly, lightly, he starts a painfully tormenting trail up my thigh, over my hip, across my ribs, my breast and up, up, up, until he has my neck completely encased by his palm, his thumb resting on the hollow of my throat, his fingers splayed at my nape. My pulse has accelerated, my heart is bucking wildly in my chest and my knees could give at any moment. And all of the time, he is burning holes through me with his addictive eyes. I could scream with frustration, which is no doubt his plan. I lean forward again, but he dodges my lips stealthily and homes straight in on my chest, nudging my dress down with his chin and latching onto my breast. He’s freshening up his mark.

My head falls back against the wall and my eyes close in hopelessness. The continuous buzzing between my thighs is excruciating, and I fear he’s going to leave me like this. He’s done it more than once. He’s trampling me. He has no right to, but I’m not putting the stoppers on this. I’m craving this touch, and now it has started, I never want it to stop.

With the music pumping loudly around us, you would think all other sounds would be drowned out, but they’re not. My feverish breaths are thick and piercing. Jesse’s breathing, though, is slow, shallow and controlled. He is in complete control and calm in his tactics. He knows what he’s doing.

I’m about to shout in frustration, but I’m spun around and pushed back into the wall, my body crashing harshly against the tiles. I turn my face and rest my hot cheek on the coldness, and his knee comes up, separating my thighs. He takes my hands and places them, palms flat, against the shiny surface. He doesn’t need to verbally tell me to keep them there. His firm placing and the slow removal of his grip tells me what’s expected of me. That and his lips pushed to my ear. When his palms rest on the outside of my thighs and clench the hem of my dress, my breathing hitches further, and I begin to physically shake. He slowly pulls it up to my waist, and then I hear the fly of his jeans being pulled down. Impatient, I push my arse out invitingly, only to have his hand collide with my cheek, the instant sting on my bareness spiking a scream.

‘Fuck!’ I pant, earning myself another swift slap. ‘Jesse!’ I turn my face towards the wall, resting my forehead against the tiles, my scorching breath steaming up the black, shiny surface. How long is he going to do this? How long will he make me suffer? But then my hips are pulled back, my knickers yanked to the side and he slams into me. I yell at the shock, fast invasion, but he is silent, not even panting, not even shaking. He slowly pulls back, holding himself steady for a few moments, before he powers forward again. My stomach twists, my head is whirling and my forehead is rolling from side to side across the tiles. I don’t know what to do with myself. I’m struck again, hard and fast, and I scream, but the music drowns me out. Slowly, he pulls out, and I feel a hand leave my hip, sliding up my body until he’s holding the back of my neck. His grip twists, prompting my head to turn out to the side, and then his lips are on mine. I moan, accepting his hard mouth and delighting in the familiarity. I don’t get nearly enough, just a little teaser of what I’ve been missing out on, before he leaves me craving so much more.

Keeping deadly still for a few seconds, he then shifts his feet and rears back before really letting go of his control. I’m yanked back to meet him over and over again, each forceful, punishing blow assisting me in achieving my main aim:ultimate detonation. And just when I think I’m there, he pulls out and spins me around, lifting me up to straddle him. He slips straight back in, my arms fall around his neck and he charges forward, quickly re-capturing my bubbling orgasm. My head falls back and the warmness of his mouth is straight on my throat, biting, sucking and licking. I start trembling as the pulses riddling my entire body all collect together and find their way to the tip of my clitoris. I’m screaming before I’ve even climaxed, but then the rush of pressure soars and flings me into an abyss of intoxicating pleasure and I shatter, screaming louder, and I know he’s come too, even though he remains silent. My head drops, finding a sweat covered face, glazed greens and still a straight, unemotional, unaffected face. It completely baffles me. I shift my hands to his hair and pull him forward, but he resists, instead moving his hands to my legs and pushing them down from his body. I find my feet, keeping myself relatively stable by leaning against the wall while I watch him. He slides his hand into my knickers, collecting the wetness, and runs his palm all over my chest before he wipes his brow, re-fastens his trousers, turns and walks out.

Chapter 10

I straighten myself out and do my best to compose my ruffled state. It’s no good. I’m shocked. He never said one word from finding me on the dance floor to leaving me alone in the disabled toilet of a bar, where he’s just fucked me. Not made love or even had wild sex. He just fucked his wife, like I’m some tart who he picked up in a bar. I’m injured, my uncertainties even stronger than ever before. What do I do now?

I fly around when the door swings open and Kate barrels in. ‘There you are! We’re leaving!’


She looks panicked. ‘Sam’s here.’

Is that all? ‘You can cope with that, can’t you?’

‘And your brother.’ she adds dryly.


‘Yes, oh. Come on,’ She grabs my hand and pulls me from the toilet. ‘Where’s Jesse?’ she asks as we pass the bar entrance.

I glance through and see him standing at the bar, a glass of clear liquid in one hand, and in his other… a woman’s arse.

I see red.

I yank my hand from Kate’s and steam towards my fucked up, fucking twat of a husband. ‘Hey, Ava! I need to leave!’ Kate calls.

I ignore her and fight my way through the crowd. He looks up and clocks me, but his eyes don’t widen, he doesn’t look guilty or like he’s been caught out. Why would he? He knows I’m here because he just fucked me and marked me in the toilets. I catch a glimpse of Sam, who looks more fearful than Jesse at my determined approach. The first thing I do when I reach him is snatch the glass from his hand and down it. It’s water. I drop it to the floor, the smashing of glass only just breaking the loud roar of music and chatting, then I pivot towards the woman, who now has her hand on my neurotic Lord’s tight arse.

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