‘Oh?’ Interesting. ‘And how do you know?’ She immediately starts to shift on the spot, and I grin, glancing down at her chest. Nipples like bullets. And I bet her knickers aren’t too dry, either. All the signs thrill me. ‘Get your trousers on.’
She smiles, steps back, and does as she’s bid, and that’s highly satisfying, too. All these natural instincts in her. It’s hope. ‘Do I ride on my own?’ she asks.
I scoff. ‘Never. Only ever with me.’
‘Why?’ She’s genuinely interested.
‘Bikes are dangerous machines.’
‘So are cars,’ she counters quietly as she pulls her trousers up her legs. I still and flick her a glance. I can’t help but think that had I enforced my demand to have her in a Range Rover, we wouldn’t be in this nightmare right now. Judging by the state of her Mini, I’m surprised she’s even alive. My veins instantly freeze on that thought. ‘Are you okay?’
‘Yeah.’ I demand my mind to steer away from such sickening thoughts. I have her. She’s here.
Once we’re both covered in leather, I place her helmet over her head gently, smiling a smidgen while I fasten her chinstrap. ‘I have déjà vu,’ she mumbles through her squished cheeks. ‘That’s got to be a good thing, right?’
‘I’m sure it is,’ I assure her, wriggling her helmet as gently as I can to check it’s secure. ‘You look fucking hot.’
‘I know.’ She flexes her head from side to side. ‘And it’s good to see you’re wearing leathers, too.’ She freezes, as do I, both of us staring at each other. ‘Why did I say that?’ She suddenly looks puzzled, and my hope dies, but only a little, because the doctor said he’s pleased. All these little things here and there. There has to be a pinnacle moment that will bring it all rushing back. Something that will open the floodgates.
I go ahead and try to explain. ‘When we first met, I never wore leathers.’ Her eyes drop to my stomach. I know what she’s thinking. She’s thinking about the scars on my abdomen. She’s thinking I must have sustained those injuries in an accident, and I don’t put her straight. ‘You weren’t happy about it,’ I finish gently, sweeping my arm out towards the bike in indication for her to hop on board.
She heads for the bike without thought or question. ‘I’m not surprised. You’re not—’
‘Indestructible, I know.’
She stops for a beat, slowly looking over her shoulder and down to my stomach again. ‘This is so weird.’
I laugh sarcastically. ‘Just a bit.’ Joining her, I throw my leg over the bike and settle in the seat. ‘Put your foot on . . .’ My instruction fades off when I feel her front squished up behind me in the seat, her arms circling my midriff. ‘Okay, then.’
‘I feel like I should be, but I’m not even scared,’ she declares, snuggling closer. ‘Where are we going?’
Looking down at her hands linked over my stomach, feeling her head resting on my back, her body pushed tight to mine, brings me a little peace. Whether she knows it or not, she trusts me. I pull my helmet on and start up my Ducati 1299 Superleggera, giving it a few exhilarating revs. The roar is only amplified in the enclosed garage, and Ava’s hold of me constricts. Had I not spoken to the doctor, this definitely wouldn’t be happening. But she’s comfortable. So comfortable. Besides, like I would let anything happen to her.
I kick up the stand and roll us out of the garage, taking it steadily to the main road. I ignore her demand for me to speed up. This ride will be slow and careful. Not something I’m really familiar with, but fast getting used to. Because I have to.
Chapter 20
With Ava nestled so snugly against my back, I may have gone the long way to my intended destination. I make no apologies for that. She’s lucky I’m even letting her off the bike now. She swings elegantly but a little gingerly off the back, like she’s done it a million times before, which she has. Then she unclips her helmet and pulls it off, tentatively shaking out her long dark waves.
Sweet mother of all things holy. My cock lunges like a depraved animal trying to escape a cage. It’s not a bad comparison. It’s been way too long since I’ve had sex. My balls are about to explode, and that moment back there in the hallway when she jumped on me hasn’t helped my situation.
Next, she unzips her jacket, revealing her white casual T-shirt and a little cleavage. Not too much. Just a hint of the boobs I love so much. I shouldn’t look. It’s only slowly torturing me.
‘Hey.’ My visor flips up, courtesy of Ava, and she scowls at me playfully. ‘Are you staring at my boobs?’
‘What’s it got to do with you?’ I retort offhand, making her hover between light laughter and gawking at me.
‘Because they’re mine.’
I snort and get off the bike. ‘There are plenty of things for me to remind you of, and this is one of the most important.’ I point my finger at her chest, then let it travel the entire length of her body. ‘All this is mine.’
She slaps my hand away. ‘You’re a pigheaded arsehole.’
‘Yeah, yeah,’ I sigh tiredly. ‘It’s still all mine.’
Huffing and puffing a few times, she flips me a scowl. For what point I don’t know, maybe just to demonstrate her exasperation. It would be refreshing if it wasn’t boring these days. Yet this little back-and-forth thing we have going on is strangely wonderful. ‘What are we doing here, anyway?’ She looks across the grassy planes of Hyde Park.
‘We’re going for a walk. Or a mooch, as you like to put it.’
‘You mooch in shops. Not in parks.’
‘You don’t like mooching in shops with me,’ I tell her.
‘Why?’
‘Because I trample all the dresses you like,’ I reply candidly as I take her helmet from her hand and put it with mine on the seat. ‘So I go shopping for you.’
‘You buy my clothes?’ Horror is a blanket across her lovely face. ‘Control what I wear?’
‘Pretty much, yes, and now isn’t the time to try and change that.’ I offer my hand, and she takes it automatically. ‘We’re happy as we are.’
‘You mean you’re happy.’
‘Trust me, Ava. You are deliriously happy.’ I march on my way, not too quickly so she doesn’t struggle to keep up. ‘Just tell me if you need a rest.’
‘I need a rest.’
I move in front of her and dip, taking the backs of her thighs gently and hauling her onto my back. She yelps, but leaves me to my thing. ‘Better?’
‘You’re going to carry me all the way around the park?’
‘Yes,’ I reply with utter finality, my pace picking up now that I haven’t got to worry about wearing her out.
Her protests don’t come. A question, however, does. ‘How old are you?’ she asks, linking her arms around my neck and resting her chin on my shoulder.
‘Twenty-four.’
‘Just tell me.’
‘No.’
‘Why?’
‘Because I want you to find out for yourself.’
‘And how am I going to do that?’
I look out the corner of my eye, the edge of my lip lifting. ‘I’m sure you’ll think of something.’ I see her mind immediately whirling. She’s brainstorming. Good. Never in my life would I have imagined myself silently willing her to handcuff me and leave me at her mercy again. But now, I’d do anything. And now, I wouldn’t get irate and lose the plot. I’d smile my damn way through the fucking torture. ‘Comfortable up there?’ I ask, glancing to her face resting on my shoulder as I pace down the path.
Peeking at me, she nods discreetly before lowering her lips to my cheek and kissing me softly. ‘Very.’ I close my eyes and savour her affection, not knowing where it’s come from, but unwilling to question it too deeply. Then she resumes her position, chin on my shoulder. ‘I could get very used to this.’
‘You already are, baby.’ I breathe in, t
hen exhale slowly. ‘You already are.’ I continue down the path, feeling positive and actually quite excited about the rest of our day. That was easy affection, and I want more of it.
When we come to the exact spot I had planned, I gently lower her to her feet and point to the grass. ‘Lie down.’
She laughs, caught between wariness and humour. ‘Why?’
‘Because I told you to.’
‘And I always do what you tell me, do I?’
‘I fucking wish,’ I mutter, lowering to the grass and putting myself on my back. I spread my arms and legs, imitating Ava’s beat form the first time I took her for a run and she collapsed with exhaustion. ‘Familiar?’ I ask.
‘Should it be?’
I pout, disappointed. ‘Maybe I should drag you on a ten-mile run.’
She splutters above me. ‘Are you serious? I’d be dead.’
‘You practically were the first time, but you soon got used to it. Now you’re like Forrest Gump.’
She glances down her body, taking in the good shape she’s in. ‘Running clearly does nothing for my boobs.’
I’m up on my elbows like lightning. ‘Oh no, lady.’ I laugh, though it’s with dread rather than humour. ‘Don’t even think about it.’ I shake my head furiously, daring her to defy me.
‘They’re not how I remember them,’ she muses, chin on her chest as she takes them in. Of all the things that aren’t how she remembers, she’s worried about her boobs?
‘Your boobs are perfect.’
‘What’s crawled up your arse?’
‘You,’ I snap, reaching for her hand and tugging her down to the grass. A quick, expert manoeuvre has her beneath me in a flash. Trapped. And panting. My grin must be epic as I nestle my body between her thighs and claim her wrists, thrusting them up over her head. ‘You look good under me.’
‘You look good over me.’ Now she’s grinning, too, and if I wasn’t already on the ground, the impact of her voluntary affection would have knocked me on my arse. Something has shifted between us. Since that kiss last night, I feel like we’re making progress, even if there are no monumental breakthroughs in her memory. She’s receptive. I see she’s curious about so much, not just the last sixteen years, but me. This man. This man who is her husband. This man who loves her with a fierceness that’s debilitating for both of us.
She smiles, scanning my face, reading my thoughts. ‘Was that your chat-up line when we met?’
Her question brings on a crazy bout of laughter, my muscles forced to engage in order to hold me up and not squish her under me. ‘Not quite.’
‘What was it, then?’ The true, almost excited curiosity in her eyes is another sucker-punch to my heart. She still thinks it’ll be all romantic. Sweet and light. Make her swoon and go all giddy. I made her giddy all right. I remember it well. Her shock. Her disgust. But more the look in her eyes that told me she was wondering how loud she really would scream.
I cough my throat clear. ‘I’m not sure you’re ready for that part.’
‘After everything you off-loaded already?’ She snorts, and I growl. ‘Give me a break.’
‘I’ll give you something,’ I whisper, flexing my groin into hers without thought.
‘We’re in the park,’ she breathes lustfully, with zero concern that we’re actually in the park. She’s saying what she thinks she should say.
‘Wherever, whenever, baby. You know that.’ I don’t wait for her to kiss me. I can see she wants me to, and the moment is too perfect to waste. So I gently drop my lips to hers and coax her mouth open softly, swallowing down the low, appreciative noises she makes.
‘I’m learning fast.’ Her lips pass over mine at the same steady pace, and I smile against them. This is perfect.
‘You like gentle Jesse?’
‘I love gentle Jesse.’ She speaks between our kiss, totally indulging in my mouth. ‘Now tell me.’
‘Tell you what?’ My mind has blanked on me, and I growl, annoyed, when she pulls away.
‘Your chat-up line when we met.’ She sighs in exasperation.
‘I asked you how loud you’d scream when I fucked you.’
She starts laughing so hard, her whole body shakes, and while I’m a little stunned, I’m also delighted. And seeing her so amused is overwhelmingly rewarding.
‘So how loud did I scream?’ she asks, chuckling between each word.
‘You nearly took off the roof of Lusso.’
She’s gone again, laughing like some demented person, eyes bursting with water, body losing all control. I could stay here all day and just admire it. Listen to her. ‘I’m glad you find it funny, lady.’ I wait, quite content watching her as she finds it in herself to calm down. I’ve really tickled her.
Regaining control of herself, she sighs deeply, flexing her hands a little for me to release them. As soon as I have, her arms are around my neck. ‘I just . . .’ A deep breath. ‘I don’t know. Everything you’re telling me, how you are, how I am, how we are, just sounds so crazy. Yet my heart is telling me it’s real. It’s normal. Nothing feels wrong at all, just so incredibly right. Even the mad stuff.’
I smile softly and brush some hair back off her face. ‘It’s our normal, baby. I’ve always told you that.’
‘Our normal sounds pretty fucking perfect.’
‘Watch your mouth.’
‘Okay.’ She giggles and takes my lips once more, hungry for them since she tasted me last night. She can’t get enough of me, and I’m not about to complain. I let her at me for as long as she wants, following her soft, swirling tempo. ‘We’re probably gathering an audience.’ She’s breathless. Good. Let me take some more of that breath.
‘Fuck ’em.’ I take over the pace, every sound of pleasure that escapes her stroking my skin and warming it. I wouldn’t be opposed to staying here for the rest of the day. But I reluctantly acknowledge that she needs to eat.
‘You must be hungry.’ I pull back and trace the lines of her cheekbones, smiling at her swollen rosy lips.
‘A little,’ she admits on a sigh. ‘I’m more thirsty.’
‘I know just the place.’ I press my fists into the ground on either side of her and push myself up, helping her to her feet. Pointing across the road to the coffee shop, I take her hand and lead on. ‘You think you can walk that far?’
‘No.’ She looks up at me, her lips pressed together cheekily. ‘You might need to carry me.’
I say nothing and turn for her to climb onto my back again. We’re perhaps only thirty paces from the café, an easy walk, even for Ava, but she wants me to carry her and I’m not about to refuse. She’s playing. I love it.
With her face nestled close to mine, I walk us across the road and set her on her feet outside. ‘My lady,’ I say, pulling the door open and sweeping my arm out in gesture for her to lead on. I’m grinning. She’s grinning. It’s just one big grin-fest this afternoon.
‘Why didn’t you just woo me this romantically when we met?’ she asks, passing through the door. ‘You know, instead of asking highly inappropriate questions.’
I raise a brow as I follow her in. ‘How could I woo you when you refused to even have dinner with me? I was a desperate man. Besides, I eventually won your heart. Who cares how I did it?’
She laughs, bumping my shoulder as I flank her. I don’t budge, but Ava wobbles a bit, forcing me to make a grab for her before she topples. ‘Ava!’ I snap. ‘For fuck’s sake, be careful!’
She startles, blinking rapidly at me in surprise as I hold her by the tops of her arms. ‘No need to make a scene.’ She glances around, as do I, seeing a few people looking our way. I couldn’t give a flying fuck.
‘Just be careful,’ I mutter, taking her hand and leading her on towards the counter, stuffing my hand in my pocket to find my wallet.
But I freeze, pulling Ava to an abrupt halt, too, my fe
eling fingers lying still on the leather of my wallet as I stare at what’s captured my abrupt attention.
Sarah’s eyes, clouded with surprise to match mine, flick between me and Ava. She was always a bit too fond of Botox and fillers, and it seems that love affair has grown in her absence. Growing old gracefully she has not. Her skin is too taut and her lips blown up to ridiculous proportions. She has a coffee in her hand, just turning to leave the café.
‘Jesse?’ Ava’s hand lands gently on my forearm, and I rip my stare from Sarah and look down at my wife. ‘You okay?’
I cough, my head in chaos. ‘What do you want to drink?’ I ask, slipping my arm over her shoulder and walking on, taking a wide berth around Sarah, hoping beyond all hope that Ava doesn’t notice her. Sarah’s body turns as we move, keeping her facing us. I feel my lips form a straight, warning line, silently threatening her to leave quietly and unnoticed. Her eyes are questioning, even if her face is poker straight.
We just make it to the counter when Ava turns away from me, directly towards Sarah. ‘I’ll have a hot chocolate, please. I just need a tissue.’ She wanders off, literally rubbing shoulders with Sarah as she passes. My wife doesn’t bat an eyelid at the woman who nearly tore us apart. Or one of the women. I watch in dread as Sarah’s gaze follows her path to the nearby pile of napkins. She looks confused. John hasn’t told her about Ava’s accident? And then as Ava heads back, wiping her nose, her eyes fall straight onto Sarah. She frowns, eyeing Sarah as she stares. ‘That woman is staring at me,’ Ava says when she’s returned to me, moving in closely to my side. ‘Do I know her?’
‘No,’ I answer immediately, just as Sarah approaches. If looks could kill, Sarah would be dead on the spot. I just know my expression must be harbouring all kinds of threats, but she heeds none.
‘Jesse. Ava.’ She passes her eyes between us, and the atmosphere thickens in an instant. ‘Lovely to see you.’
With This Man Page 14