I let us into our home and toss my car keys on the table in the hallway. Ava has been so quiet since we left The Manor, so thoughtful and pensive. And I just know that she’s trying to wrap her mind around the fact that her husband once owned an exclusive sex club. I feel like my past – the secrets, the hard truths – is rushing forward and drowning me again, albeit in an entirely different way. I’ve never felt so fucking helpless.
‘Tell me about our first date,’ she says as she settles at the island and I get us some water from the fridge.
Our first date? Christ, I just know she’s imagining something romantic like women do. All flowers and feelings and smiles. There was all of that, just not in the way she’s probably expecting. ‘It’s a little . . . unique.’ I take some water and shut the door, risking a peek over my shoulder.
‘Unique?’
‘Not much about our relationship is conventional. Never has been.’ I nibble on my bottom lip, wondering where to start. ‘We should go into the lounge where it’s more comfortable.’ I hand her the water and pick her up without thought, carrying her to the crushed velvet couch by the fire in the lounge.
She doesn’t say a word, but I can practically see her thoughts churning. It’s slowly driving me mad, constantly trying to guess what’s going through her mind. I can’t go on like this. ‘What are you thinking?’ I ask, setting her down on the sofa and joining her.
Pulling her feet up onto the couch on a little grimace of pain, prompting me to help lift her injured leg, she looks around the grandeur of our lounge. ‘I’m thinking this room has my name written all over it.’
I know that’s not what she was really thinking, but I humour her, also taking in the gold and crimson décor. It’s my favourite room in the house, for that very reason. It is my wife through and through. ‘You were never one hundred per cent happy with it.’ I don’t know why. To me, it’s perfect. But Ava always said there was something missing, and for the life of her she couldn’t put her finger on it.
‘The curtains need something on the header,’ she says out of the blue.
I shoot her a look, finding her staring at the drapes. ‘Like what?’
‘Some decoration on the pencil pleats. A crystal here or there, maybe.’ She shakes her head and returns her attention to me. ‘What are you smiling at?’
‘Nothing.’ I kick my feet up on the coffee table and relax back as best I can with her not in my arms any more. I just want to yank her close. All this gently-gently is weird. Fucking painful.
‘So, our first date?’ she asks, pulling me out of my funk, my head dropping to the side to find her.
‘It depends what you call a first date.’
‘Oh God, was I easy?’
I bark out a bout of laughter. Easy? I fucking wish. ‘Far from it. And it drove me wild.’
‘But I went on a date with you?’
‘We’d had sex a fair few times by the time I actually took you out for dinner.’
‘I was easy.’ She grimaces, as if disappointed with herself. She shouldn’t be. If anything, it was me who was disappointed that it took so long for her to finally give in to the pull that was driving us both to distraction. ‘I shouldn’t be surprised since I know how quickly I fell pregnant.’ She shakes her head in dismay, and I keep my mouth firmly zipped closed. ‘But part of me was hoping you’d tell me we met, sparks flew, you asked me out, we dated for a time, we eventually fell into bed and made romantic love, and then when the time was right, you proposed. And we lived happily ever after.’
It’s as I thought. All sweet and light in that mind of hers. Idyllic fairy tales. Fucking hell, she’s so far off the mark, she may as well be on another planet. ‘Not quite like that.’
‘Then like what?’ She’s hungry for information, keen to learn. I’m not sure I’m very keen to tell.
‘Well, when you refused to entertain my . . .’ I pause, wondering how best to position it. ‘Advances.’ That’s diplomatic enough. ‘I had to get creative.’
‘I refused?’ Her eyes take a little trip down my reclined body, clearly wondering why she turned me down. It plants another seed of hope that I pray won’t be killed off before it has a chance to grow into something beautiful.
‘Yes, and it’s a question I asked myself many times, too.’ I smile when she finds it in herself to rip her stare away from my chest. ‘You’re stubborn. Always have been, always will be.’
She sniffs though doesn’t argue, pressing on with her thirst for information. ‘Creative how?’
I open my mouth to tell her exactly how, and then think better of it. This needs careful approaching. ‘You refused to come back to The Manor to fulfil your designs, and I knew it was because you were wary of me, of the feelings you had. It was most frustrating.’ I half scowl at her, and she half smiles in return. ‘So I promised I’d stay out of your way if you came back and finished the job.’ I can see her trying to cast her mind back. ‘But I didn’t.’
‘Stay out of my way?’
I nod. ‘Staying away from you proved very . . . tricky.’
‘You must have had a real crush.’
‘A crush?’ I laugh. ‘An obsession would be more apt. You blew me back, with your beauty, your voice, your passion for your job. For the first time in years, I felt alive.’
‘Years?’
I knew we’d have to go over this, but . . . God, it’s not something I relish the thought of. ‘I was a bit of . . .’ I fade off, thinking how to make it sound less sordid. ‘A playboy.’
‘Well, that’s not a surprise, since you owned a sex club.’ She’s taking it rather well. It’s a stark contrast to the reaction back in the day. If only she’d been this willing to listen and accept back then, when she discovered the communal room. I shudder, remembering the train wreck that ensued. ‘So you used to screw around?’ she asks.
‘Something like that.’
‘But you stopped when you met me? ’
‘I stopped,’ I say, hating myself for bending the truth. Positively hating myself. I’m being selective with what I tell her, and I know in my heart of hearts that it isn’t fair.
‘Why don’t I believe you?’ She tilts her head, scanning my worried face. ‘You’re lying to me, aren’t you?’
I close my eyes, stress creeping up on me, and swallow down my fear. I can’t even appreciate the fact that she’s reading me like a book, like she knows me inside out. ‘There was this one incident.’
‘You cheated on me?’ She’s up off the couch quickly, glaring down at me through the discomfort her sharp move has spiked. I’m about to be trampled, Ava-style.
‘Not exactly.’ I grab her hand and encourage her back down, not releasing her when she fights to regain possession of her limb. ‘We weren’t really . . .’ Fuck, how can I put it? ‘Exclusively dating.’
‘But we were seeing each other?’
‘I guess so. If that’s what you want to call it.’
‘Well, I don’t know, Jesse.’ She’s getting more and more irate, and I have no idea how to handle it. Usually I’d pounce right back at her. We’d spar with words, and then we’d make friends in the bedroom. ‘Because I can’t fucking remember, can I?’ she seethes.
‘Watch your fucking mouth!’
She recoils, disgust invading her face. ‘Excuse me?’
‘I don’t like it when you swear.’
‘Well, I don’t like finding out that my husband has cheated on me.’
Motherfucking God! I release my hold of her and sink my head into my palms, searching for some calm. I never dreamed we’d be going over this again. ‘Ava, I got myself in a bit of a state over what I felt for you. It wasn’t healthy, the intense feelings so soon. So I walked away from you. I drank, a lot, and I screwed two women. And I didn’t even finish, because all I could see was you. I spent two fucking days locked in my office wondering what the hell to do. Because you didn’t know about The Manor. You didn’t know about my history. You knew nothing, and I didn’t have a clue how to tell you.’ This is fucking knackering me out. All of it. ‘So I threw all of my energy into making you fall in love with me in the hopes that you would accept it all when I found the courage to tell you. And you did, Ava.’ I grab her hand, ignoring her startled expression and soldiering on. ‘You accepted me because you were as hopelessly in love with me as I was with you. You couldn’t be without me, either. You let me take the lead and you followed willingly. You let me lavish you with the attention and suffocation, because you knew it’s what I needed. You learned how to deal with me, Ava, and you are the only person in this world who can.’ My voice cracks. ‘And now I feel like you’re slipping away from me, and I don’t have a fucking clue how to make it right.’
She’s still, quiet, looking increasingly startled. The silence is unbearable. Excruciating.
‘Please, say something,’ I beg, pleading with my eyes as well as with my words. ‘I punished myself. You punished me. I can’t go through that all over again.’
‘You punished yourself? How?’
I’m quickly shifting in my seat, dropping her and raking my hand through my hair. My actions speak volumes, even if my mouth refuses to.
‘Jesse, how?’ she presses, a certain sternness in her demand.
Does she realise she’s reading my body language? For a woman who doesn’t remember me, she’s showing all the instinctive signs of knowing me. I wish I could appreciate that right now. I can’t. I’m just more terrified by the prospect of ruining my chances before I’ve even really tried.
‘I had myself whipped.’ I close my eyes as I tell her, unwilling to see the inevitable horror on her face. ‘It was either that or drink myself into oblivion.’
‘What?’ she gasps. ‘Whipped? By who?’
I don’t hesitate. Let’s get this horror show over with. ‘Sarah.’
‘Who the hell is Sarah?’
‘An old friend.’ I open my eyes and find Ava heaving before me. She’s furious. It’s a small blessing because it shows she cares. ‘You didn’t like her much.’
‘I’m not surprised!’ Pivoting, she walks to the French doors that lead to the garden and stands staring out across our land, arms folded over her chest. It’s cloudy out there. Dull. Grey. Miserable.
Apt.
‘Why would you do that?’ she asks.
‘I already told you. To punish myself.’
She remains with her back to me, though I see her shoulders rise. An inhale of shock? Or an inhale of strength? ‘And this Sarah. Your friend. Is she still in your life?’
I’m thrown back to last week, the moment when John told me she’d returned to London. The moment when I went to call Ava to tell her but got a call from the school instead. The moment when my world shattered. ‘No,’ I vow, because she isn’t. ‘She left, moved to the States when she realised there was only one woman in my life. You.’
‘That was good of her.’
Her curtness stings, but I accept that it’s all I can expect. ‘Sarah was my uncle’s girlfriend,’ I explain. ‘They had a little girl together.’
Ava turns to face me, all spite lost, astonishment replacing it. ‘But she was in love with you?’
I nod. ‘Uncle Carmichael owned The Manor before I did. I worked for him as a teenager. He introduced me to that lifestyle.’
‘Bloody hell, Jesse. Do your parents know?’
‘Of course. That’s why I didn’t speak to them for years. We only reconciled when you came into my life.’ I pat the couch next to me. ‘Ava, come and sit down with me, please.’ I don’t know if it’s instinct or a sense of duty, but she does, settling warily. ‘I’m going to give you a shortened version because, frankly, it’s so far in the past and there are so many other things I need to share with you, tell you, things that are more relevant to our lives now. Things that have made us happy. Things that have built us. Things that helped us get over the shitty stuff and brought us to now.’
‘But it’s all part of our story, good or bad.’
I can’t argue with that. ‘But it’s painful, Ava.’
She reaches over and takes my hand. It’s a natural display of comfort, and I’m so grateful for it. ‘Tell me.’
I rub into my weary eyes with my spare hand, squeezing my other around hers. ‘I was a twin myself,’ I begin, and she smiles softly, changing the hold of our hands so her fingers are laced with mine, moving closer. ‘My brother was the good boy. The achiever. I was . . . well, a pain in my parents’ arses, I see that now. I led him astray, and . . .’ Fucking hell, I can feel a vice squeezing my heart, air being drained from my lungs. ‘We were out one night. Drinking. It was my idea. I encouraged him. Jacob walked into the road.’
Her hand covers her mouth, realisation hitting her. ‘Jacob,’ she mumbles.
I nod my confirmation of our son’s name and my dead brother’s. ‘Mum and Dad blamed me for Jake’s death. I was a mess. I felt so guilty.’ Something tells me that I should hold back on my ex-wife and dead daughter right now. I’m already bombarding Ava with so much. So, right or wrong, I skip it and go straight to the beginning of my life at The Manor. Or the end of my life until Ava crashed into it. ‘I went off the rails. Took up residence at The Manor. Uncle Carmichael passed away, I inherited the place, and the rest is history.’
Her cheeks puff out, her head shaking slowly, disbelieving. ‘I don’t even know what to do with all of this.’
‘Do nothing. Say nothing,’ I tell her, pulling her closer. ‘When I met you, you pulled me out of the black hole I’d been trapped in for so long. You gave me new life and purpose. I felt good for the first time in years, and I wasn’t about to let you refuse me those feelings.’
‘So you got creative?’ Her eyebrow hitches a smidgen.
‘Yes. I swear, I’d never worked so hard to get laid.’
A small gasp followed by a playful slap of my upper arm prompts a little laugh from me, and as a result, Ava rolls her eyes, not being able to help smiling herself. I pull her onto my lap, and she doesn’t complain, coming with ease. ‘Was it good?’ she asks. ‘When you finally got me into bed.’ Her lips seal tightly, as if she’s bracing herself. She’s wondered this before. She’s looked at me and considered what it would be like to be intimate with me.
‘You mean against a wall.’
‘Huh?’
This is better. This is the important stuff. The feelings, the connection, the out-of-this-world sex. ‘At Lusso.’
Her frown is huge. ‘What’s Lusso?’
‘A complex on St Katharine Docks. You were the designer. I bought the penthouse. That’s how I heard your name and why I got you to The Manor. I liked what you did with it. Italian shit everywhere.’
‘Oh. So you did get me back to your apartment, then?’
‘Not quite. I got you in the bathroom on launch night.’
‘I screwed you in the bathroom of a show home? Oh God!’ Her forehead falls onto my chest and rolls from side to side in despair. ‘That’s not like me. I don’t do things like that.’
I smile and wrap her in my arms, savouring the moment of her being so close. She wasn’t like that. I know. That was one of the things I loved about her. Problem is, she’s still that young woman in her mind. ‘It was incredible. The want thrumming from your body, mirroring mine. We were inevitable, baby. A spark just waiting to explode. And, trust me, we exploded.’
I swallow, my face in her hair, my body coming to life just talking about that moment in our history. The moment she gave in. The moment the explosion happened.
As a result of my thoughts, my cock starts to stiffen, and it can’t have escaped Ava’s notice, since she’s sitting on the damn thing. She better not move; I can’t promise I’ll be able to hold ba—
She shifts, and I suppress a growl, not very successfully. I’m iron behind my jeans. My veins are hot. My heart jumping. It’s not a good place to be when any kind of Jesse-style fuck is off the table. Lips straight, she finds my eyes, and I see that dormant lust lingering in their depths. She swallows and drops her gaze to my lips. Fucking hell, I’ve never been so starving for her. Never been so desperate to take her. Never felt so paralysed by desire. She’s just staring at my mouth, her body now unmoving on my lap, her mind clearly racing. She wants to kiss me. Wants to taste me.
‘Are you ready to stop fighting it now?’ I ask, being catapulted back to Lusso when I finally got to take what I so badly wanted.
‘I need all of you. Say I can have all of you.’ She immediately looks confused by her words, but I’m fucking elated, because even though she doesn’t know where these words are coming from, they’re coming, and that’s really all the hope I can count on right now.
‘You can have all of me,’ I tell her quietly, even though she already owns every fibre of my being.
She slowly drops forward until her lips gently meet mine. It’s a beautiful moment, one, along with many others, that I will cherish for as long as I live. I don’t take the lead, deciding that I should let her take it at her own pace, and I’m more than happy with her pace. It’s slow. It’s soft. It’s gentle and loving and everything that it should be. It’s everything that I feel.
The sofa melds around my back, and Ava melds into my front, my head resting back, my mouth and my tongue lax to easily follow her movements. My hands keep a firm hold of her hips, just enough to tell her that I’m here and I so desperately want to be. I haven’t tasted her in over a week. It’s the longest stretch I’ve ever gone without kissing her, feeling her, and maybe that is why every sense feels heightened. She tastes more potent; my skin feels hypersensitive to her touch. It’s perfect. So perfect, I never want it to end.
‘Are you okay?’ I ask against her lips when she pauses a beat before resuming her exploration of my mouth, her palms holding my cheeks as if she’s scared I’ll move and break her flow.
‘You are such a good kisser,’ she mumbles, pushing her front into me, not helping with the situation behind the fly of my jeans. Kissing, yeah, great, but I’m not sure if she’s ready for more just yet. ‘It feels like we’ve done this a million times, got it down to a fine art.’
‘We have done it a million times,’ I say, quickly cursing myself when she breaks our lips and pulls away.
‘Of course.’ Her cheeks are flushed, and I’m struggling to fathom whether it’s with embarrassment or desire. ‘Sorry, I got a little carried away.’
Oh, the strength it takes for me not to bark my frustration nearly breaks me. ‘Don’t apologise,’ I order as softly as I can, taking her chin and directing her face to mine. ‘Thank you.’
‘For what?’
‘For that amazing kiss.’
She smiles, almost shyly. ‘Thank you, too.’ Her blush is heartbreaking because it signifies the loss of our time, and deeply gratifying because I can at least make her blush again. She was so used to me after all these years, nothing I said or did fazed her any more.
‘I want to take you out tomorrow,’ I tell her. ‘Do you think you can manage it?’
‘Where are you taking me?’
Reaching for her hair, I push a stray lock over her shoulder. ‘A little trip down memory lane.’
She says nothing, just smiles as I rise from the couch with her still attached to my front. Encouraging her to find her feet, I turn her by her shoulders and push her on. ‘Go get ready for dinner.’
‘Bossy again,’ she muses.
‘Like I said, get used to it.’ I release her at the bottom of the stairs and watch as she takes them slowly, constantly glancing over her shoulder at me. I cock my head, lifting my eyebrows when she tries to hide a secret smile. ‘What’s tickled you?’ I call.
Her delicate shoulders jump up in a small shrug, but she doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t need to. She felt something powerful just then. Something in our kiss that reinforced the rightness of her being here with me. She was lost in that moment, and her mind was blank for all the right reasons.