Author: Jodi Ellen Malpas

‘Please.’ I mumble into his chest.

‘Come here.’ He scoops me up and carries me downstairs to the kitchen, placing me on the worktop gently.

‘Oh!’ Shit, that’s cold!

He laughs, easing his grip away slowly, like he’s afraid I might fall off. I might do, I feel God awful. I grab the edge of the worktop to steady myself and watch, through half open eyes, as Jesse opens almost every cupboard in the kitchen before he finds the one with the glasses in.

‘You don’t know where you keep your own glasses?’

He rummages through a drawer, pulling out a white sachet. ‘I’m learning. My housekeeper tried to tell me, but I was a little distracted.’ He rips the sachet open and tips it into a glass. The muscles of his back roll as he gets a bottle of water from the fridge, filling the glass quickly, before walking back over to me. ‘Alka-Seltzer. It’ll sort you out within half an hour. Drink,’

I reach to take it from him, but my arms won’t liaise with my brain. Without a word, he moves between my thighs and lifts the glass to my lips for me. I guzzle the lot.

‘More?’

I shake my head. ‘I’m never drinking again.’ I mumble, falling forward onto his chest.

‘That would please me so much. You’re very argumentative when you’re drunk.’ He strokes my back.

‘I am?’ I don’t remember.

‘Yes, promise me you won’t get in that state when I’m not around to look after you.’

‘Did we argue?’ I ask. I remember the toilet dispute, but we were friends after that.

He sighs. ‘No, I submitted power temporarily.’

‘That must have been a challenge.’ I reply dryly.

He reaches up, snapping my bra strap. ‘It was, but you’re worth the effort.’ He turns his face into me, kissing my hair before pulling back and focusing his stare on my semi-naked state. ‘I love you in lace.’ he says softly, tracing the top of my knickers. ‘Shower?’ I nod against his shoulder, wrapping my arms and legs around him as he slides me from the counter.

I’m carried back through the penthouse, upstairs into the bathroom and put on my feet outside the shower. I’m left briefly as he turns the shower on. I feel wobbly. As soon as he’s in front of me again, I flop forward onto his chest.

‘You are feeling sorry for yourself, aren’t you?’ He picks me up and places me on the vanity unit. ‘I have fond memories of you sat exactly here.’

I frown to myself, but then realise…our first sexual encounter happened in here on the launch night of Lusso. I look up into hazy, green eyes staring down at me. ‘You finally got me where you wanted me, didn’t you?’

He cups his hand on my cheek. ‘It was always going to happen, Ava.’ He grabs his toothbrush, squirts some toothpaste on and runs it under the tap. ‘Open.’ he orders.

He sets about brushing my teeth gently, holding my jaw in his free hand. I watch him concentrate on his small, circling movements around my mouth as my dance floor revelation comes back to me – the moment that I finally admitted to myself that I have, most definitely, fallen in love with this man. I wasn’t so drunk when that little realisation crashed into my wine drenched brain. My aim to avoid exactly this has been well and truly trampled. I’ve fallen in love with this arrogant, forceful, God like creature.

Bollocks! I reach up to cup his stubbled cheek in my hand, and his eyes jump to mine, his lips parted ever so slightly. He stops brushing and turns his face into my palm, kissing it tenderly. Yep, I love him. Oh God, what am I going to do?

‘Spit.’ he says quietly against my hand.

I drop my hand from his face and lean over the sink to rid my mouth of toothpaste before returning to face him. Running his thumb across my lip, he collects some stray paste and slides his thumb in his mouth to clean off what he’s swept up.

‘Thank you.’ I utter through my cracked voice.

The corner of his mouth cocks into a half smile. ‘It’s just as much for my benefit as it is for yours.’ He smiles, leaning in and kissing me soft and slow on the lips, his tongue sweeping through my mouth tenderly. I sag on a sigh. ‘You’re rubbish at hangovers. Is there anything I can do to make it better?’ He pulls me off of the unit, so I’m stood before him, and reaches around to clinch my bum, effectively holding me up.

‘Have you got a gun?’ I ask him seriously. That would cure my pounding head.

He laughs a proper belly laugh. ‘That bad, huh?’

‘Yes, why is it so funny?’

‘It’s not, I’m sorry.’ He straightens his face and runs his middle finger down the side of my cheek. ‘I’m going to make it all better now.’

Oh? Alcohol, quite clearly, has not killed off my libido because every dehydrated nerve ending has just sprung to life. I must look hideous, and he’s getting all fresh with me? We’re not on even ground here. He’s fierce and God damn delectable in his morning roguishness, smelling all musky, mixed with fresh water. I, on the other hand, have a hangover from Hell and must resemble something like a scarecrow, but he doesn’t seem to be bothered.

He reaches around my back, unclasps my bra and removes it before leaning down and giving each one of my nipples a quick peck. They harden instantly under the brief contact from his lips, my breasts becoming heavy burdens on my chest. My body has been completely distracted from the after affects of alcohol and is now buzzing all over in anticipation of his touch.

As his head raises and his lips find mine, my hands slide up his arms and delve into his soft, blonde mass of hair. Oh God I’ve missed this. It’s only been four days, but I’ve missed it so much, it frightens me.

‘You’re addictive,’ he breathes against my mouth. ‘We’re going to make friends properly now.’

‘Are we not friends?’ I ask. My voice is breathy and desperate.

‘Not properly, but we will be soon, baby.’

A wave of tremors fly through me as he kisses my nose gently and drops to his knees in front of me, spanning my hips with his big palms, hooking his thumbs into the top of my knickers.

I tense and wait, but he makes no attempt to remove them. I look down at him and watch him kneeling there, his forehead resting on my stomach, as I weave my fingers through his dark blonde hair. We remain like that for an eternity, trapped in our own little dream state, just me watching him as he rolls his forehead across my tummy, back and forth.

He eventually takes a deep breath and leans in, placing his lips below my bellybutton and letting them linger there for a few seconds before slowly dragging my knickers down my legs. He taps my ankle – a wordless instruction to lift – and repeats the same on my other foot.

I look down at him knelt before me, his head lowered, and I know something’s playing on his mind. I tug on his hair to snap him out of his daydream, and he turns his face up to me, his eyes meeting mine. His frown line is heavy on his forehead as he reaches up, spreads his palms on my backside and dips his head, kissing my stomach again. He’s behaving peculiarly.

‘What’s wrong?’ I can’t keep my concern to myself any longer.

He looks up at me and smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. ‘Nothing.’ he says unconvincingly. ‘Nothing’s wrong.’

No sooner am I preparing to challenge him, his face is buried in the apex of my thighs and my legs have buckled.

‘Ohhhhh!’ My head flies back and my grip on his hair tightens. In one foul lick, he has me lock stock, and the niggling urge to press him is forgotten.

He moves his grip to my hips, causing me to jerk wildly. He’s the only thing holding me up. I feel his hot, skillful tongue circle my hypersensitive nub of nerves, rounding with slow, precise movements before delving deep into my core. There is not a single bit of me he’s not exploring.

‘I need a shower,’ I complain.

‘I need you,’ he mumbles against me.

I’m sent into a melting mess as he increases the pressure, digging his fingers into my hips. I grind against his mouth, it’s only a matter of seconds before I’m falling to pieces, the surging pressure crashing down into my groin having me holding my breath, with my heart jumping into my throat.

‘You taste incredible. Tell me when you’re close.’

‘I’m close!’ I gasp on a long rush of breath. Holy shit, I’m close!

‘Someone’s keen this morning.’ A hand is removed for my hip and two fingers plunge into me, sending me into orbit.

‘Oh, shit!’ I shout. ‘Please!’ I must be ripping his hair out.

‘Watch…your…fucking…mouth.’ he scorns me, between powerful, even strokes. He can’t tell me off for swearing during these moments. It’s his fault for putting me through this.

He stretches my opening with his fingers, circling and thrusting, while working my clit with his thumb and lapping at my sensitive lips with his tongue. It’s a torturous pleasure that I could endure forever, if it wasn’t for the increasing pressure weighing down on me, demanding release.

‘Jesse!’ I shout desperately.

With a few more measured strokes of his fingers, thumb and tongue, I’m hurled off the edge of a cliff and freefalling into nothing, the banging of my dehydrated brain replaced with sparks of pleasure. I’m cured.

He laps and sucks, slowly and gently, easing me down at a steady rate, my body relaxing and my heart rate leveling out. I keep my palms on his head, tracing slow, light circles in his hair.

‘You’re the best hangover cure.’ I exhale, on a long satisfied breath.

‘You’re the best everything cure.’ he counters. His tongue traces up the middle of my stomach, between my breasts as he rises to his feet. He continues the trail up my neck, tilting my head on a groan as he laps up my taut throat. ‘Hmmm, now,’ He kisses my chin softly. ‘I’m going to fuck you in the shower,’ He tugs my chin so my head comes back down. He kisses my lips. ‘Deal?’

‘Deal,’ I agree. What a stupid question. I’ve not had him for four days. Where was he? I elect not to ask. I doubt I would get a straight answer anyway. Instead, I take my time running my palms down his lovely chest, settling my eyes on his evil scar – something else I doubt he’ll divulge.

‘Don’t even ask. How’s your head?’

I snap my eyes from his scar, back up to him. He’s looking at me with a warning look. Yeah, I won’t be challenging that tone, or that face. ‘Better.’ I answer. I am. His face softens, and he looks down at his boxers.

I take the hint, slipping my hand into the waist band, brushing his hair with the back of my hand and skimming over his morning erection. I flick my eyes to his and find them regarding me carefully. When I move in closer, he takes the opportunity to lower his forehead onto mine, blessing me with his signature minty breath.

We’re surrounded by steam now, condensation settling all over us, and I can see his chest hair dampening, gripping to his skin as I slip my hands around the back of his boxers, smoothing my palms over his tight, extraordinary arse.

‘I love this.’ I whisper, molding my palms over his cheeks.

He rolls his forehead against mine. ‘It’s all yours, baby.’

I smile my approval and smooth my palms back to the front, grasping his thick, pulsing arousal at the base. ‘I really love this.’

He groans in appreciation, swooping down to claim my lips, raiding my mouth possessively, forcing me to release my grip of his hard length and take my hand back to his arse. I’m yanked into his chest, getting a full impact blow of his hardness pushed into my groin. I’m already commencing build up. The urgent need to have him inside me has me breaking our kiss and tugging at his boxers to get them down his long, lean legs. He releases one hand from my bum to assist, his boxers soon rid of, his massive erection pointing straight at me. It’s twitching, it wants in. And the drop of moisture that’s beading on the tip tells me this is going to be a shock and awe moment. I’m right. I’m swiftly grabbed around the waist and pulled upwards against his heaving body.