Total pages in book: 209
Estimated words: 198235 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 991(@200wpm)___ 793(@250wpm)___ 661(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 198235 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 991(@200wpm)___ 793(@250wpm)___ 661(@300wpm)
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.’