I left my keys to Jake’s house in his suitcase before I left the Hard Rock Hotel, which means I won’t be able to let myself into his house if he is not in. Fortunately, standing across the road from the house I see that his car is parked close by but in a different place from when we left for Vegas. So I know not only that he is back, but also that he is in. I do not know what kind of reception I am going to get, but I know he won’t turn me away.

His body won’t let him.

Maybe that is why I have not called first. Calling would mean our bodies don’t get to talk. I cross the road. At the bottom of the steps I stop, courage suddenly deserting me. It is startling just how nervous I am. My organs feel like they are floating inside a hollow space. I take a deep breath. I think I am afraid of what he will be like without the alcohol.

Come on, Lily, just a few steps more. You’ve come this far. It’s not like you ran out on him or anything like that. You left a note. You just needed a bit of time to think.

I look up at the sky. It is a hazy white.

I want to take those last few steps and ring the bell. I want to see him again, but I am terrified I will see a stranger with cold, mean eyes. I debate the matter. What’s the worst that can happen? He slams the door in my face. A small voice speaks, I’m not prepared for that. I can’t go back to what I was when I lost Luke. This is a bad idea. Maybe I should leave and then call first. Prepare him. My body starts turning to walk away when in my peripheral vision the curtain twitches. Oh God in heaven! He has seen me.

It galvanizes me. I don’t want him thinking I’m a coward. I run lightly up the stairs and ring the bell.

The door opens almost instantly and my voice dies in my throat. My eyes widen with shock and I feel my soul shrivel. This I had not prepared for.

‘Well, well, look what the cat dragged in,’ Andrea Mornington drawls as her eyes travel down my body derisively, while she stands in Jake’s fucking shirt! The buttons have not even been done up. She has just thrown it over her naked body and is clutching the edges together. Underneath the shirt her legs are long and bare and her toenails are painted a pretty peach.

Fuck him.

He went back to her!

Just like that.

The sensation of shock is so immense that I feel physically ill. I want to vomit. I am jealous, horribly jealous of her standing in my man’s shirt. At that moment I don’t think of what I have done to him or how I have betrayed him. I just feel betrayed. Utterly and completely. I really believed we had something rare and special. A kind of deep connection that I have not had with another human being.

Her eyes note my suffering with great satisfaction. There is not an ounce of pity in them. I see her clearly then. She has never in her life sung the song of pain, or had the branches torn from her tree. She is one of those lucky women. Bestowed with everything.

I open my mouth and no words come out!

‘It’s always a good idea to call first,’ she advises insolently.

It is not rage I feel but pain. Such pain that I don’t want to punch her, or scratch her eyes out. I just want to run away somewhere no one will see me and howl in pain.

Some part of me refuses to believe what I am seeing. What if she is tricking me? What if he is not in? I force the words out.

‘Is he in?’

‘Obviously,’ she says, with an amused smirk.

I won’t scratch your smug, spoilt face, but I’ll leave you with this: ‘Tell him… Tell him his wife was here.’

Without waiting to see her reaction I whirl away from her, and lurch toward the steps. But my legs are so unsteady that I miss the first step and, with arms flailing and an involuntary cry starting at the back of my throat, I begin flying face first toward the hard, concrete pavement below.

Oh shit! Now she will witness my utter humiliation, too.

My descent is stopped suddenly by an iron hand. Wet and strong, it curls itself around my forearm and jerks me backwards. The force is so great I slam into a hard wall of solid muscles running with water droplets. The clean smell of soap and shampoo envelops me.

In a daze I feel myself being pulled through the entrance past an open-mouthed Andrea. I turn my shocked face to the owner of the hand. His hair is plastered to his head and rivulets of water are still running down his face and neck. My stunned brain makes a mental note: he was in the shower. His only covering is a small, white towel slung around his delectable hips. He must have just pulled the first thing that came to his hand, and run down the stairs when he heard the doorbell.

Did he know it was me ringing?

He propels me into the living room, and keeping a firm hold of my hand turns to glare at Andrea. She has followed us in and is standing at the door watching. An odd, unfathomable expression crosses his face. He shakes his head slightly to himself, part irritation, part exasperation.

‘Get back into your own clothes and leave, Andrea,’ he says tightly.

‘What about lunch?’ she asks sulkily.

‘What about lunch?’ It is obvious that he is finding it difficult to keep his temper in check.

‘You promised to take me.’

‘And I will, another time… If you get out of here right now.’

Huffily, but with impressive flamboyance, she flings his shirt to the floor and in her underwear stalks to a sofa where her clothes are. The bitch! She had wanted me to think she was naked underneath Jake’s shirt. That I had interrupted them at an intimate moment. Jake turns his gaze back to me. I have so many questions eating at me, but I am too frozen to say anything. My mouth is still hanging open.

I clamp it shut—I can wait until she is gone before I go ape shit.

She shoots daggers at me before bestowing a fake, happy smile on Jake. ‘See you later, then,’ she calls and flounces out of the room.

We hear the door close and Jake says in a weary voice, ‘Don’t make me come there and put you out, Andrea.’

There is a muffled sound of outrage and then the door slams hard.

‘How did you know she hadn’t gone?’

‘When things don’t go Andrea’s way she tends to slam doors.’

My mind is a seething mess of emotions. How dare he? How dare he act so cool?

‘What was she doing here?’

‘When she came I was training. I went to take a shower. She was supposed to wait…in her own clothes.’

I still don’t like it. She obviously feels she has some sort of hold on him. And what is that thing about taking her out to lunch? But I can’t act all jealous. Now is not the time. We have other far more important things to talk about.

I gaze at him, and suddenly I am aware that he is standing in an inadequately small towel. And he is staring at my mouth. Heat is coming off him in waves. My gaze leaves his smoldering eyes and skitters down to his throat.

‘I’m glad you came,’ he murmurs.

‘Why?’ The sound is strangled. His nearness is doing things to me. We have been apart for so little time and yet, it feels as if it has been ages since I have had him inside me.

‘Because it’s saved me the trouble of going down to Vauxhall to fetch your ass back here.’

My eyes rush up to his. ‘You know where I live?’

‘There are two things wrong with you, princess. You’re too naïve for your own good, and you’re always wearing too many fucking clothes.’ His voice is low and husky and he watches me like a hungry beast.

I flush and feel wetness pool between my legs. The air around us is thick with all kinds of emotion.

‘Um, yeah, we really need to talk, Jake.’

‘Everything in good time, but first…’ In an admirably smooth movement he unbuttons, unzips and pulls my jeans down my legs. ‘I’ve got to have you.’ Sitting on his haunches, his mouth is so close to my sex I feel his breath as warm puffs of air through my panties. I take a shaky breath. Mother of God, this man is something else. I rest my palms on the thick knots of strong muscles on his shoulders as he slides my panties down to the floor. I step out of them.

‘We really should talk first,’ I whisper without any conviction.

‘Aren’t you even a little bit keen to have my cock inside you?’

‘Not really,’ I gasp.

‘You’re dripping, babe.’

‘You’re an asshole, Jake.’

He grins, his eyes flashing.

My breasts feel heavy, my nipples hard and hungry. Should I be doing this? my mind tries to reason fleetingly, but it is gone when he sticks a thick finger inside me. ‘Oh,’ I cry.

‘Oh, indeed,’ he says and standing up, walks me backwards until I am pushed up against a wall. He whips that ridiculously inadequate towel off his bronzed body and throws it to the ground. I have only a flash of him in all his erect glory before my right thigh is grabbed and hoisted up. I wrap it around his hard waist. This is where I belong. I am back where I belong. He drags his fingers along my crack, already slick with juices.

‘I can’t wait to feel your sweet pussy around my cock,’ he says softly, as his thumb massages my clit knowing that the light caresses will drive me insane.

‘Fucking give it to her then,’ I snarl.

He laughs softly and forces his shaft up into me.

‘Oh God!’ I whimper, staring up at him. Jesus, how I’ve missed having this thick pillar of meat buried deep inside me. The fullness of him is perfect. Absolutely perfect.

His eyes blaze into mine.

Utterly drunk on the look in his eyes, I groan. Possibly because I have come to accept that I love him and will do everything in my power to keep him, it is more satisfying than at any other time.

He rams into me relentlessly, until my supporting leg begins to twitch with tension. I fear my leg is about to give way under me.

‘I can’t take it anymore,’ I gasp, my sex clenching like crazy.

‘Yes, you can,’ he says. ‘Remember I own your pussy. She starts when I start and she stops when I stop.’ He swats my ass hard, the sound is loud and meaty, and pounds me even harder. Pain blurs into pleasure. My leg buckles and I wind both legs around his thighs and my hands around his neck and hang there, trembling. His hands come around to grip my bare buttocks and hold me in place.

‘Jaaaake… I’m coming,’ I warn.

‘No,’ he snarls. ‘You come when I tell you to fucking come.’

‘I can’t wait,’ I moan desperately.

‘Yes, you can,’ he bites out and pushes his tongue into my mouth. I suck on it greedily. I can feel the rush beginning to take hold of my muscles, and I strain to hold it back. My pulse pounds in my ears and between my legs so hard that my body starts vibrating with the intense effort of holding back the oncoming climax.

‘Let me come,’ I cry harshly.

‘Come,’ he commands, and I plunge, trembling, twisting, jerking, into a void that is more vast and fantastic than the night sky while my hands grip him hard and close to my body through the splendor of his own orgasm.