Total pages in book: 214
Estimated words: 202638 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1013(@200wpm)___ 811(@250wpm)___ 675(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 202638 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1013(@200wpm)___ 811(@250wpm)___ 675(@300wpm)
‘You should call Jesse and let him know.’ I carry on walking, and he carries on flanking me.
‘I did, Ava. Mr Ward advised me that I should consult with you on anything regarding the penthouse.’
I skid to a halt. He said what? ‘I’m sorry.’ I sound confused.
Clive looks nervous. ‘Mr Ward, he….urh….he said you live here now and anything concerning the penthouse should be run past you.’
‘Oh, he did, did he?’ I grind. I shouldn’t sound so menacing. It’s not Clive’s fault. ‘Clive, do me a favour. Ring Mr Ward and tell him I don’t live here.’
Clive looks like I’ve just told him that he has two heads. I’m fuming. He moves me in under the persuasion of a sense fuck followed by a reminder fuck, and then expects me to become Molly mop? No amount of sense or reminder fucking will work in his favour this time.
‘Of course, Ava. I’ll…urhhhh…do it now.’
‘Good.’ I snap, and carry on outside the building. I stand and rummage through my bag for my sunglasses and car keys, completely riled. How dare he? I huff and puff to myself until I find my glasses, and as I slip them on, Massive Attack’s Angel creeps into my ears.
‘Oh no!’ I screech to myself. I’m even madder now. He knows how I feel about that track. I grab my phone and connect the call. ‘Stop messing about with my phone!’
‘No! Reminds me of you.’ he yells. ‘What do you mean, you don’t fucking live there?’
‘I’m not your fucking maid!’ I shout back.
‘Watch your fucking mouth!’
‘Fuck off!’ I yell. Oh, my language is blue!
‘MOUTH!’
I stand outside Lusso raging mad. If he thinks I’m going to be playing the dutiful domestic lady, he’s another thing coming. The cheek! I look up and spot John leaning against his Range Rover. His signature wrap around glasses are on, but I can see his arched brow above it. He’s enjoying this.
‘What’s John doing here?’ I snap.
‘Have you calmed down yet?’
‘Answer me!’ I yell.
‘Who the hell do you think you’re talking to?’
‘You! Are you listening? Why is John here?’
‘He’s going to take you to work.’
‘I don’t need a chauffeur, Jesse.’ I’ve calmed my voice slightly. How undignified of me, shouting and swearing like a drunken football hooligan, and in front of the newest, most prestigious residential complex in London. I look up and see John grinning. It’s new to me. I‘ve never seen him display any humour.
‘He was in the area. I thought it would be easier than you trying to park up.’ Jesse has calmed his tone too.
‘Well, at least tell me what’s happening if it involves me.’ I spit down the phone and hang up.
Controlling pig!
I make my way over to John and my phone starts singing again en-route. I’ll be changing that ring tone. I flash my screen at John as I pass him, and he grins again. ‘Yes, dear?’ I quip, rather bravely. I’m digging myself a hole here – I do realise that, but he’s out of touching distance so there is no risk of any sort of Jesse style fucking to put me in my place.
‘Don’t be sarcastic, Ava. It doesn’t suit you.’
I climb into the Range Rover and put my seatbelt on. ‘You’ll be pleased to know I’m on my way to work with John.’ I glace over at John, and he nods. ‘Would you like confirmation?’ I ask. ‘John, make yourself known.’ I thrust the phone under John’s nose.
‘S’all good, Jesse.’ he rumbles. He actually smiles, and I notice a gold tooth. He’s really enjoying this.
I put the phone back to my ear. ‘Happy?’
‘Very!’ he snaps. ‘Ever heard of a retribution fuck?’
The very words send shivers down my spine. I glance at John. He is still grinning. ‘No, are you going to demonstrate?’ I ask quietly.
‘If you’re lucky, I’ll see you at home.’ He hangs up.
I put my phone in my bag, feeling coils of anticipation springing into my groin. He’s taken me on a ten mile run, served me my favourite coffee, fucked me into oblivion and made filthy promises on the phone, and I haven’t even got to work yet. On top of that, though, he’s distracting me from a whole heap of troubling thoughts. He’s holding back on me again, and I can’t believe he has advised the concierge that I am now the lady of the house. I need to avoid all sense fucking in future, and I need to think about how I’m going to approach this little issue. It’s way too soon to move in with him.
I look at the mean beast of a man sat next to me. ‘Were you really in the area?’
John stops with his signature hum. ‘What do you think?’
That’s what I thought. ‘How old is Jesse?’ I ask casually. Why I’ve picked a casual tone is beyond me. It’s ridiculous that I don’t know how old he is.