This Man Confessed / Page 49

Page 49


Author: Jodi Ellen Malpas


He turns his head and kisses my palm before lowering himself onto his elbows and tucking his fingers under the scarf, pulling in down over my chin so it rests on my neck. I can talk, but funnily enough, I don’t want to say anything now. I’m holding Jesse’s face, soaking up the happiness oozing from his beautiful greens, and I’m happy to do just that.


‘I want to kiss you.’ he declares, but while his little proclamation is sweet, it’s also light-years away from the usual kiss me demand. That is probably why my brow is completely furrowed and Jesse’s eyes are sparkling in amusement.


‘You do?’


‘Hmm,’ He drags his thumb across my bottom lip and watches intently. ‘I really do.’


‘You can kiss me.’ Being gagged has dried my throat out, making my voice rough and low.


His thumb reaches the corner of my mouth, and then sets off again, back across my lips. ‘I’m not asking permission,’ His eyes close and re-open, landing directly on mine. ‘I’m just thinking out loud.’


‘Why don’t you stop thinking and do.’ I raise my hips, signalling that kissing me is not the only thing I’d like him to do. Jesse working himself up is really going to work me down. I’m still buzzing, his arousal still held snuggly inside of me.


‘Are you demanding, Mrs Ward?’


‘Are you denying, Mr Ward?’


‘No, but you do…’


‘I know who has the power.’ I interrupt, and he gives me that roguish grin as he slowly dips, his lips finding mine, and takes what I’m so willing to give.


‘I’ve never tasted anything so good.’ His hips swivel, sweeping through my remnants of pleasure.


‘Not even an Ava éclair?’ I ask around his lush, wet mouth.


‘Not even an Ava éclair.’ he confirms, nibbling his way up to my ear. ‘Not even peanut butter.’ he murmurs, reaching down and hooking his arm under my knee. He pulls my bent leg upwards and plants his fist in the mattress so my leg is draped over his arm. ‘Just pure,’ he sucks my earlobe. ‘Raw,’ he bites down. ‘naked,’ and then drags it teasingly through his teeth. I shudder as he skims across my cheek and plunges his tongue into my mouth. ‘Ava.’ he finishes on a whisper. ‘Pure, raw, naked, Ava. And I’ve got her for three whole days… all…. to… myself.’


I smile around his lips and find his hair, unable to resist a playful yank as he moans and pleasures me with those damn delectable, wonderfully talented hips. Deep grinds. Firm dives. Easy retreats. I sigh, and he rumbles, low in his throat, but I’m not interested in coming again. I could, but I don’t want to. I want to concentrate on him, so I meet his rotations with my own, ensuring optimum contact and pleasure, just for him.


When I feel the rolling waves of his muscles tensing around my body, I know that he’s tipping the edge, so I harden my kiss, yank at his hair a little more and moan. He’s blazing, and when he pulls away on a gasp, I know he wants my eyes. My hands move straight to his neck. The feeling of his throbbing neck vain is matching his laboured breaths. Our eyes lock, his full of hunger, mine full of surrender.


‘My heart’s bucking wildly.’ he murmurs, pushing into me one last, deep, steady time and just holding himself there as he inhales severely and begins to shake. ‘Fuck, that feels good.’


I’m not joining him in his climax, but it doesn’t stop me from whimpering shallowly and sucking in my own sharp breath, my thighs finding his waist and my arms moving to his shoulders to pull him down. I kiss him deeply, invading his mouth forcefully, helping him through the twitching and jerking of his body.


‘Good?’ I ask around his mouth.


He keeps our kiss up and bites my tongue lightly. ‘Don’t ask stupid fucking questions.’ he warns seriously, rolling onto his back and lifting his arm for me to find my happy place. My fingertips find his scar and start their usual trailing from side to side as he pulls me in snuggly and breathes into my hair. ‘Okay?’


‘Don’t ask stupid fucking questions.’ I grin into the side of his chest.


‘Ava, one day I’m going to shove a bar of soap in your mouth.’


He probably would. ‘What time are we leaving?’


‘Seven-ish. We’re flying at noon from Heathrow.’


‘Heathrow? We’ve got to drive all the way back to London?’ Is he kidding me?


‘Yes. It was the only place where I could get a flight from at such short notice.’


I sulk into his chest, but that tone was final and what would be the point of complaining further, anyway? It’s not like it’ll get me anywhere and not just because of the short notice and lack of availability. ‘You could’ve got something from Bristol, at least.’ I just can’t help myself.


‘Shut up. Let’s talk about our plans for the weekend.’


‘Have you made plans?’ I ask.


‘Yes, it involves lots of lace and even more naked flesh.’ he kisses my head, and I’m immediately distracted from my mood.


Just me, Jesse and lots of naked flesh, after lots of lace has been removed… slowly. I smile, snuggle deeper and let my sleepy mind wander to all things Jesse-ish.


Chapter 23


‘Have you got everything?’ Mum’s still in her dressing gown as she faffs all over the driveway.


‘Yes,’ I sigh with optimum exasperation, for the tenth time.


‘Oh, it was brief, but I’m so happy you came to see us.’ She clasps my cheeks and kisses me. I shouldn’t be getting the credit for this. If it wasn’t for Jesse, who knows how long I would’ve put this trip off. ‘You must take care.’


I roll my eyes, but hug her. ‘It was so good to see you.’


‘Are you insinuating that I can’t look after my wife?’ Jesse asks seriously as he shuts the boot of the car.


‘No, I was telling her to take care.’ She throws a small scowl over to Jesse. ‘And I would never insinuate that you couldn’t look after my daughter.’ She’s poking him. It’s like the O’Shea women have a compulsion to goad Jesse Ward.


Jesse strolls over, leaving my dad browsing around the fully loaned DBS. ‘She doesn’t need to take care because I do that for her.’ He pulls me from my mum’s grasp, reclaiming his wife from her mother. ‘Mine.’ He grins and smothers me to make his point.


‘Menace.’ Mum huffs, trying not to smile. ‘Joseph! Don’t get any ideas.’


We all turn to see my dad running his palm down the gleaming bonnet of the Aston Martin. If I was close enough, I’m sure we’d hear a sigh. ‘Just admiring,’ he says to himself. ‘I thought yours had black leather?’


I glance at Jesse and send a telepathic message to think of something fast to explain why the interior has gone from black leather to cream. ‘Mine’s in for a service. It’s a courtesy car.’ He reels off the explanation with complete ease and with no delay. He’s such a better liar than me, and I hate that.


Dad laughs. ‘I don’t get courtesy cars like this from my garage.’


Jesse smiles and leads me to the passenger side, pushing me down gently and buckling me in before adjusting the lap belt. I bat his hands away, earning myself a growl. ‘I’m not incapable.’ I mutter.


‘No, you’re very capable,’ he narrows annoyed eyes on me. ‘of driving me fucking nuts!’


‘You drive yourself nuts.’ I retort, pushing him away and shutting the door. I let the window down. ‘Bye!’ I blow my parents a kiss and watch as Jesse shakes hands with my dad and kisses my mum chastely on the cheek before making his way around the front of the car, drilling holes into me through the window as he does.


He slips in and starts the engine. ‘This weekend will be a lot more pleasant if you do as you’re told.’ he grumbles, pulling away from my parent’s house.


I wave them goodbye and turn in my seat to face him. ‘I can put a seatbelt on.’


‘But I want to do it.’ he mutters sullenly. ‘It’s my job.’


‘To put my seatbelt on?’ I laugh.


‘Sarcasm doesn’t suit you, lady.’ He starts flicking a few switches on the steering wheel. ‘It’s my job to look after you. No sickness this morning?’


‘No.’ I sigh. ‘You shoving a ginger biscuit in my mouth the second I woke up took care of that.’ I quip, bolting upright when the car stereo kicks in and Mr JT himself joins us. I turn eyes mixed with surprise and amusement to Jesse. He knows that I’m looking at him, but he’s ignoring it. ‘You had them put this CD in, didn’t you?’ I’m using every ounce of willpower not to grin.


He frowns at the road. ‘Don’t be stupid.’


‘You did. On the special request part of the form that you completed, you wrote… Please load the disc player with Justin.’ I pause. ‘Did you put a love heart and a few kisses on it, too?’ I’m most certainly grinning now.


He slowly turns un-amused eyes to me. ‘Do you think you’re funny?’


‘Yes.’ I reach forward and crank the volume up, and then start jigging in my seat, singing along and generally taking the piss out of my JT fanatical God. ‘Hey!’ I yelp when his fingers squeeze my hipbone and the music is suddenly low again. ‘I was enjoying that.’


‘You should. He’s a very talented man.’ Jesse states earnestly.


‘You’re a very talented man.’


‘I know.’ He shrugs. ‘We have a lot in common. He’s a great guy.’


‘You’ve met him?’


‘No, he keeps putting his requests in, but I’m too busy.’ It’s him concealing a grin now.


I laugh, and he slips his wayfarers on, but not before giving me a wink and a little jiggle of his shoulders.


Laidback Jesse. God, I love this man.


* * *


Jesse takes us on an adventure around the airport, dipping and weaving past cars, taking turns in the wrong direction and generally just seeming like he has no idea where he’s going. I watch the sign for the airport car park go sailing past my window and frown to myself. Then I look at the clock. It’s eleven thirty and we’re supposed to be flying in half an hour. We haven’t checked in, done security or anything.


‘Shit!’ I blurt, grabbing my bag up from the floor.


‘Ava, mouth! What’s up?’ He takes a corner too hard, and my hand shoots out to steady myself on the door.


‘Will you take it easy?’ I snap irritably. Would now be a good time to point out that his driving is stupid?


‘Ava, there’s no place you’re safer than in a car with me. What’s the matter?’ He doesn’t look at me, so he can’t appreciate the look of disbelief on my face, but then I swiftly remember why I was oh shitting in the first place.


‘My passport.’ I say, diving into my bag, looking in complete vain because I know it’s not in here. I didn’t put it in here, and my rummaging slows when I realise exactly where my passport is. He’ll go spare. ‘I’ve left my passport in my box of junk.’ I tell him, mentally cursing myself for not sorting that box out yet.


He reaches forward and flips the glove compartment open. ‘No you haven’t, but you have forgotten to get your name changed, Miss O’Shea.’ He drops it on my lap and tosses me a reproachful look.


‘So I’m travelling a single?’ I ask, opening it up and admiring my maiden name.


‘Shut up, Ava.’ He screeches to a stop and jumps out, making quick work of getting around to my side and opening my door. I would have done it myself, but I’m just staring out of the windscreen with my mouth slightly agape. ‘Come on.’


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