Surely that freed Ava from the restrictions of the best friends’ code?
She poured herself another glass of Zinfandel and took three big, strengthening gulps. Then let her thoughts drop uncensored from her lips. ‘Do you still want to sleep with me?’ At hearing the words out loud, her heartbeat took on a different rhythm.
Slowly, Sam’s eyes opened. Something hard blazed from his no-longer-sleepy gaze. ‘Hell’s bells. Having had it pointed out to me in the bluntest terms on so many occasions that you don’t have time for a man in your life blah blah blah blah blah, I can only presume this to be a rhetorical question. So you’re using the fact that I have the hots for you to reassure yourself? Fantastic. Thanks a bunch. Well you can find someone else to provide validation. I don’t appreciate it.’ He dropped her hand and rolled quickly to his feet. ‘I’ll see you tomorrow at the agency.’
Ava gazed at him in dismay. ‘That wasn’t what I was asking. I wouldn’t play you like that.’ After the wracking emotions of the day, her voice actually trembled.
Comprehension stole into Sam’s expression. Slowly, he sank back down, rubbing a sheepish hand over his face. ‘Oh shit, I’m sorry. I completely misinterpreted and overreacted. Put it down to overwhelming and undermining fatigue affecting my usual functions.’ His eyes shone with remorse. ‘If you’re asking whether my having seen a couple of those images has stopped me wanting to sleep with you, the answer is no, they have not. You keep calling them “horrible images” but believe me neither of those images were horrible to me. Or most straight men, I’d imagine.’
His foot-in-mouth embarrassment was so comical that Ava’s dismay flipped into an urge to giggle. ‘Right.’ She struggled to keep the grin off her suddenly heated face. ‘I didn’t mean that either, but thanks for the reassurance.’
That got his attention.
Complete, unwavering, intense attention. His gaze burned into her as, slowly, an eyebrow lifted. ‘OK, this is getting interesting. Spell out for me what you do mean.’ His voice was low and soft.
She peeped at him. ‘There’s a good chance I can relax about my career now the financial heat shows signs of abating – thanks to you. You know about Harvey and don’t judge me for it. Izz seems kind of sorted … so I was reconsidering your suggestion that we should give each other a try.’
He didn’t return an answer. But his smile said a lot.
‘But I’d obviously underestimated the degree to which you’re shattered, overwhelmed and not functioning,’ she added, kindly.
If anything, his expression shifted up the intensity scale a notch or two.
She studied her nails with an elaborate air of unconcern. ‘Don’t you worry. You get off home to sleep.’
He lifted her hand, brushing her fingertips across his lips, sending desire flittering through her. ‘Suddenly I’m not tired. I can show you how much I still want to sleep with you. I’m all about measurable data.’
She teased him for another few seconds. ‘Sure you’re not too tired?’
He grinned. ‘Quite sure.’ Pulling gently on her hand, he reeled her in until she was brushing up against him. ‘But I do want to go to bed … if it’s yours.’ His lips touched hers, soft and hot, sending her into a gentle simmer.
She let her head tip back as his lips moved on to her throat. ‘It could be mine.’ With no Izz here to worry about. ‘I think I’d like a hot man in my stockings for Christmas.’
His hand began to travel south. ‘You’re wearing stockings with a dress this short?’
Her voice was beginning to clog her throat at the feel of his hand passing over her. ‘I ripped my tights earlier so I had to make do.’
‘Don’t apologise for stockings.’ He stroked her thigh, first over the fabric of her dress then under, breath catching audibly in his throat as he encountered bare flesh.
Although the heat from his hand was spreading through her in waves, part of her mind stayed on track. ‘Upstairs. I know Izz left but I’d hate her to come back—’
‘Definitely upstairs.’ He jumped up, pulling Ava with him.
It took time to feel their way up two staircases, especially as Sam, teasing up the fabric of her dress, found bare buttock with his palm. He groaned, ‘You’re wearing a thong,’ like an accusation. He braced against the wall of the narrow staircase to investigate further, yanking her against him, curling around her, biting her neck, cupping her buttocks. When his fingertips began to follow the line of her thong all the breath whooshed out of her lungs. Her attempt to say, ‘Really, let’s get to my room,’ emerged as ‘Reeeee … gnhnnumph.’
He laughed against the crook of her neck. His grip tightened, his knees straightened and she was off the ground as he carried her up the rest of the flight onto the top landing.
Her lungs suddenly didn’t fit inside her rib cage. ‘My bedroom’s through that door—’
‘Do you think I hadn’t worked that out? Every time I was in your studio I thought about this room and hoped I’d get to see it.’ His breathing was fast but his movements were slow as he closed the door with his back, shutting them into the room, the only light coming from the distant glow of streetlights filtering through the skylight. He let her slide down his body and onto her feet. Kissing her. Taking his time. Stroking. Finding the small buttons at the back of her dress, unpopping them, one … two … three – pausing to trace the top of her spine – four. Touching her as if everything in his life had led to this moment of having her under his hands.
Ava gave herself up to the pleasure of being slowly undressed while her fingers wandered up under his shirt, skimming his ribs, his back, his abs. Learning him; his shape, his smell. Following his happy trail down into the waistband of his jeans.
She shivered as her dress began to slide from her shoulders, his hands nudging it down her body, exploring as he went, flipping open the catch of her bra, pulling that slowly from her, too. The cooler air hit her skin, goosebumps tingling over her.
His searching hands halted at the small of her back. ‘What’s this?’
She put her own hand back to touch the little circlet of metal. ‘Thong ornament. Where the pieces meet.’
‘Lights,’ he said, hoarsely. ‘I need to see “thong ornament”.’
She giggled. ‘By the bed.’
In the near-darkness, he steered her to where a small lamp stood on her bedside table. She blinked as it spread a pool of light.
But his gaze was steady, hungry, burning down her body as he turned her around. ‘That’s hot,’ he said hoarsely, flicking his thumbnail across the spiral design of the circlet in a way that vibrated through her. His hands drifted up her back and down over her collarbones, down the front of her, cupping her breasts in the warmth of his hands. ‘You’re amazing.’ He pressed himself against her, letting her feel how much he wanted her.
Groaning, she rotated her hips against him.
In slow motion he wrapped himself around her, turning her so that the front of her was crushed against his chest. On tiptoe she wound her arms around his neck and pressed her mouth against his throat.
It was a perfect moment. The air around them seemed thick and soft.
Then suddenly the feelings were bubbling over. ‘Need you.’ He dragged his shirt over his head, crushed a kiss onto her mouth, attempting to maintain that contact as he yanked at his belt and the fastening of his jeans. She tried to help him but it was all she could do to stay on her feet in the flurry of him abandoning his clothes.
It didn’t take him long to get naked. Then he swept her backwards and onto the bed. She landed with the coolness of the duvet against her back and the heat of a large excited man on her front.
‘Yep, lots of need,’ she gasped, arching against him as his mouth left a trail of kisses down to her breasts, each one cooling on her skin as he dragged the thong down her legs then swore a lot as he realised his wallet was in his jeans and his jeans were somewhere over near the door. And his condoms were in his wallet.
She didn’t have time to mention that,
as a modern woman, she did actually have condoms in the bedside drawer. He was off her, leaving the space where he’d been shiveringly empty, as he wrangled his wallet out of a reluctant pocket and fought the condom wrapper. Then he was back, he was on her. Burning, pushing, sliding.
She stopped having coherent thoughts.
Her voice still worked, though. It didn’t make much sense but it was satisfactorily loud, making Sam laugh and groan as he went harder and faster.
He didn’t seem tired at all.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Going viral
Saturday 22 December
Sam woke with the realisation that he wasn’t in his own bed. It was smooth and comfortable, but it wasn’t his.
He forced his brain to move a level closer to the surface. Not only was it not his bed, a woman was lying against him, soft and warm, her hair spilling over his shoulder.
Ava.
Stray filaments of her hair had caught on his stubble. Usually he hated that but this time it didn’t tickle. It was Ava.
Ava. Excitement flashed through him as the past hours burst back into his memory. The first time, fast and furious. The next, he’d managed to keep some control. Just.
Ava. The happy mischievous Ava that he’d known existed somewhere, Ava, laughing, rolling over him, taking him in as if he was her new favourite thing, exploring him with hands and mouth. Exhausting him to the point that he didn’t actually remember sliding into sleep. Ava.
How long ago had that been? Beside the bed an electric clock read 05:33. Damn it. He needed to leave.
Edging onto his side he slid an arm around Ava’s curves until his hand was resting on her behind. A hell of a behind. That little spiral thong ornament nestled between the dimples low on her back had really done it for him.
Regretfully, he slid his hand up her back, before he forgot all about leaving. He nuzzled her hair. ‘Hey,’ he murmured. ‘I need to get home to shower and change. We have a full-on day.’
She protested sleepily, snuggling up to him. ‘Right now?’
‘About five minutes ago.’ His hand slid back to the luscious twin mounds of her buttocks.
‘Mmm.’ She nibbled his neck. ‘I suppose I can’t complain. I’ll see you there about ten.’
‘About nine,’ he corrected. ‘Or even eight-thirty. Ruby said she’d get there by eight-thirty.’ Her breasts nudged against him and what he wanted most in all the world was to get his face down there with them. ‘We’ve got a lot of social media networking to do.’
‘Slave driver.’
‘Yep. Bring your laptop.’ He sucked in his breath as her fingers trailed up over his stomach. And down again. ‘Ava! I’m trying to be strong here.’
Her laugh was sleepy and sexy. ‘OK. Go get ’em. See you in Brick Lane.’
After one long last kiss, resolving to get himself back into her bed at the first possible opportunity, he left, cursing the campaign that was dragging him into the agency on a Saturday even though Ava was an integral part of it. It was torture to peel himself off her curvy soft warmth to meet the cold, dark, wet December morning outside.
This campaign had better be worth it.
Ava did manage to get to Jermyn’s on time, if you allowed for the fact that she’d never actually agreed to eight-thirty so could legitimately claim nine as ‘on time’. After Sam had left she’d crashed back into sleep and only woke at seven because he rang her and whispered, ‘Are you still in bed?’
Starting guiltily, she’d slipped out from under the duvet and onto the carpet so that she could answer truthfully. ‘No.’
His chuckle had told her he didn’t believe her. ‘But you’re getting up now?’
She’d grinned inanely down the phone. ‘Promise.’ But then she’d slithered back under the duvet for a delicious last few minutes, her thoughts floating like the dust motes in the early morning light breaking through the skylight as she revelled in the memory of him reducing her to jelly one lick at a time.
Eventually, reluctantly, she’d yawned her way to the bathroom. There had been no sound from Izz’s room as she paused on the landing before pulling on her coat and skipping off in the direction of the station.
When she reached the agency nearly an hour later, she was buzzed up by Tod.
‘Are you OK?’ she whispered, as she met him in the foyer. ‘You and Louise …?’
‘… are fine,’ he finished, ‘now we’ve had a little talk about things.’ He nodded once, firmly.
‘Good.’ Ava gave him a quick hug, then he found somewhere for her coat and umbrella while she checked her hair and her mascara. A quiver in her stomach reminded her that any moment she was going to see Sam again, and the knowledge of what had happened last night would be between them. An exciting, golden secret.
Tod took her into the same meeting room as before. Ruby hailed her loudly, a tablet in one hand and a big mug of coffee in the other. ‘Mornin’, Ava, babes!’ Her make-up was perfect and her hair brushed smoothly into a doughnut. ‘Have you seen what these cheeky sods have done with this e-card? It’s awesome, ain’t it? It’s going out to all the tabloid journos with Tyrone’s and Chilly’s faces on alongside ours. The article in Alive Today’s amazing. We look soooooooooo hot.’
Emily, Tod, Manda Jane, Patrick and Sam were all in the room, the atmosphere set to subdued buzz as fingers tapped busily at laptops or tablets.
Sam looked up and his eyes gave her a long burning smile, sending her internal quivering into overdrive. But he kept things professional. ‘Glad you could get here. Got your laptop? Great. Open all your social media accounts and then Emily will set you going.’ He pulled out the empty seat between his place and Emily’s invitingly.
Though she tried to act as if nothing had happened between yesterday and today, Ava knew she’d turned pink. Sam’s eyes glittered with amusement, then he turned away to Tod on his other side and left Emily to update Ava with everything she needed to know.
Emily looked very off-duty in jeans and a knitted top with Aztec designs, her hair in a ponytail. ‘All very straightforward,’ she breezed. ‘First, send the Christmas card. Have you got pics of some friends on your laptop? You just crop their heads and upload them to a character … look, I’ll show you.’ Her hands got busy, tapping keys of her funky purple laptop. ‘I’ve hooked you up to our wifi. Remember to put the link to the article in every card and include a personal message so it doesn’t look spammy. Or I’ve got a few pre-written sentences for you to use if you want to.
‘Every card will have another link for if recipients want to make their own version and send it out themselves, so hopefully they’ll all begin to flock to the page. I’m monitoring the hits. People can put your card or their version on Facebook or Twitter etc. After you’ve sent the card to everyone you can think of – it doesn’t matter how tenuous the connection or whether you’ve already sent them a card, send it anyway – we’ll start on your social media. I’ll go and fetch another jug of coffee. It should have dripped by now.’
She bustled off, leaving Ava to begin at the top of her list of contacts and work down. Once or twice she glanced across at Patrick, wondering how his date with Izz had gone and wishing Izz had been up this morning so Ava could have checked all was OK. Izz wasn’t a big dater and Patrick was so laddish. Patrick looked a bit pale and hungover. He didn’t look up from his task much.
‘Fun, ain’t it?’ called Ruby from the other side of the round table, her head bent over her tablet. ‘I’m sending the card to everyone I can think of, all the players and their wives and girlfriends, everyone I’ve met on the TV and radio and at parties.’
Then Manda Jane gave a crow of satisfaction ‘Twitter’s waking up to the Alive Today article. You’ll probably have to start doing interviews, Ruby.’ She turned to Sam. ‘Who have you got lined up to do the “tell all” article?’
He dragged himself from his laptop screen. ‘Wait for offers. It would be good if it was a tabloid. Monitor the inbox, please, and everyone keep ch
ecking all direct messages and mentions in your social media accounts.’
‘What’s the “tell all” article?’ demanded Ava.
Ruby tapped away at her tablet. ‘A platform for me to confess that I fibbed.’
Manda Jane nodded along. ‘It’s a step-further piece, filling in the blanks left by Alive Today. We’re hoping that, as they don’t do exposés themselves, the hints in the Alive Today piece will prompt such a storm of attention that journos will gather around, hungry for the bigger story. We made sure they published a footer to the article to say Jermyn’s is working with Ruby. We’ll keep linking back to the original article so it won’t get lost in the scrum, don’t worry.’
It took a few moments for it to sink in that Manda Jane was telling her that they were trying to keep Ava’s millinery business in the public eye, too. She felt almost afraid to believe that anything wondrous might come of it.
‘Erm, thank you.’ Ava went back to her laptop. Uploading faces to each card was time consuming but fun. Posting it on Twitter, Facebook and LinkedIn brought a satisfying wave of smileys and intrigued comments. Pausing to respond expanded her task to Forth Bridge proportions.
At one point Sam leaned behind her to chat something over with Emily and his hand coasted casually over the small of Ava’s back. Ava reddened to the tips of her ears, knowing he was checking her out for hidden thong ornaments. But this time she was wearing cage-back panties. Maybe he’d find out later …
‘You know what,’ pronounced Ruby. ‘I really enjoyed the shoot yesterday. I reckon I’m going to take another pot at modelling and this campaign could really help.’ She paused to fold her hands under her chin and tilt her head prettily as if to prove her credentials. ‘Ava, what do you think of me wearing Ava Bliss hats at Ascot and Cannes? I could be kind of “the face of Ava Bliss”.’
‘Um …’ Ava felt almost faint at such extraordinary largesse.
‘Take it,’ advised Sam, without looking up from his conversation. ‘We can worry what to do with it later.’
‘Yes, of course. That would be fantastic, Ruby.’ Ava hoped that she didn’t sound naively shell shocked. But she was so firmly in wildest-dreams territory that she could scarcely take in everything that was going on. Then there was that we from Sam to think about, too. There was a we?
The Christmas Promise Page 22