This Man Part 44

's...o...b..' I frown.

'Son of a b.i.t.c.h.' they say in unison.

Oh? Yes, he's that too. I smile to myself, stretching my legs under the table on a sigh. Oh, that feels good.

'Don't hold out on us!' Tom whines, executing the gayest pout I've ever seen.

'I'm sleeping with him.' I shrug. I'm in love with him!

They both look at me like I've sprouted horns, then at each other on an eye roll. Both sets of arms get folded across their chests as they stand before me. Tom looks over his fas.h.i.+on spectacles, and I glance over my desk to see if they're tapping their feet as well.

'Ava, we know that,' Tom huffs impatiently. 'We just want to know if the rebound f.u.c.king has moved into more interesting territory.' He lowers his head further down, making me feel like I'm under a microscope. I am. I remove the fingers from my hair.

'I could ask Drew.' Victoria chirps.

'What?' I throw a filthy look in her direction when I realise what she means. 'Victoria, I'm not in high school. I don't need you picking his friends brain. Keep your mouth shut!' I sound really harsh, but I honestly cannot believe she has just suggested something so pathetic and immature.

She looks at me all hurt and backs off, returning to her desk and her broken nail. Tom looks at me, disapproval written all over his face. I shake my head at him. I don't care. She can be such a ditsy cow sometimes.

'It's s.e.x, nothing more.' I inform him. 'Now, leave me alone!' I grab my mouse and direct it aimlessly around my screen.

'Hmmm,' he muses, leaving me at my desk in peace. 'Just s.e.x, my a.r.s.e.' I hear him mutter.

I spend the morning checking on my clients and schedules. I'm pleased. Everything is running smoothly, with no major dramas to attend to and no lazy contractors to sack. I pencil in a few site visits for next week, smiling as I write between the diagonal lines of permanent marker pen. I need to replace my diary before Patrick cops a load of my daily appointments with the Lord.

I gladly accept the cappuccino and m.u.f.fin that lands on my desk, courtesy of Sally, and frown when I hear a commotion of car horns coming from outside the office. I look up, spotting a pink van double parked and Kate frantically waving to get my attention. I lift myself from my chair, groaning as my muscles scream in protest. I hiss on every step I take until I'm stood at the side of Margo Junior, smiling fondly at my fiery friend's excited face.

'Isn't she pretty?' Kate lovingly caresses the steering wheel of Margo Junior.

'Beautiful,' I agree, but then I remember something. 'What are you playing at letting Sam have free reign on my underwear drawer?'

'I couldn't stop him!' Her voice is high pitched and defensive. It b.l.o.o.d.y well should be. 'He's a cheeky swine.' She grins.

I've no doubt that he is. The thought instantly reminds me about the whole tying up charade. I'm tempted to ask Kate, but I quickly decide that I really don't want to know.

'How's Jesse?' Her grin widens.

'Fine,' I narrow my eyes on her.

'You stayed there,' she says, her tone suggestive. 'Have fun?'

I scoff. 'Well, I had a wild ride on a Ducati 1098, had daggers thrown at me by Sarah and ran nine miles this morning.' I reach down, rubbing my hands over my aching thighs.

'f.u.c.k, is she still at it? Tell her to take a leap.' She frowns. 'You ran nine miles? Well, that stinks. And what the h.e.l.l is a Ducatsiwhatevery?'

'A superbike,' I shrug. I wouldn't have known that myself a few days ago. 'He's deposited a hundred grand into the Rococo Union bank account.'

'What?' she shrieks.

'You heard.'

'Why?'

I shrug. 'To keep Patrick quiet while he hogs me. He doesn't want to share me.'

'Wow! That man's crazy.'

I laugh. Yes, crazy man; crazy deluded; crazy rich; crazy challenging, crazy loveable... 'Are we out tonight?' I ask. I've rebuffed crazy man on the a.s.sumption that Kate's free. He can't a.s.sume I'm there to f.u.c.k at his beck and call. It is very tempting, though.

'Absolutely! Ask Victoria and Gayboy.'

I sag in relief. 'Victoria has a date with Drew, but I'll ask Tom. Are you not seeing Sam then? He's becoming a bit of a permanent fixture at your place.' I arch a brow. He's actually a semi naked permanent fixture, but I don't point that out.

She's going to play it off as fun. 'It's just a bit of fun.' she replies haughtily.

I laugh at her casualness. I know different. We're talking about the girl who hasn't been on a second date for years. Sam's cute. I can certainly see the appeal.

A car starts honking its horn from behind Margo Junior. 'Oh, f.u.c.k off!' Kate yells. 'I'm off. I'll see you at home later. You're in charge of getting the wine.' The window starts to rise and she grins from ear to ear. I still can't believe he brought her a van.

I suddenly remember the deal I brokered in exchange for my clothes...no drinking tonight. Well, that's rubbish because I'm looking forward to a gla.s.s or two. He'll never know. Kate zooms off down the road, and I return to the office.

'Patrick called,' Sally informs me as I pa.s.s her desk. 'He's not coming in at all today. He's playing golf.'

'Thanks, Sal.' I return to my desk, stretching my legs back out. Yes, I'm really feeling it now. Standing back up, I pull my heel up to my backside, letting out a long, grateful breath when my thigh muscle stretches most satisfyingly. My phone starts jumping around my desk and Placebo starts crooning about Running up that Hill. I don't even have to look at the screen to know who it is. He has amazing taste in music.

'I like.' I say, by way of greeting.

'Me too. We'll make love to it later.'

'You're not seeing me later.' I remind him again. He's doing this on purpose.

'I miss you.'

I can't see him, but I know he's pouting. And as for the make love part...well, it's a ma.s.sive improvement on f.u.c.king. I smile, my heart performing jumping jacks in my chest. 'You miss me?'

'I do, I miss you.' he grumbles. I glance at my computer. It's one o'clock. It's not even been five hours since I left him. 'Don't go out tonight.' he says. It's not a plea, it's a demand.

I flop back in my chair. I knew this was coming. 'Don't.' I warn, in the most a.s.sertive voice I can muster. 'I've made plans.'

'You know, you may be at work, but don't think I won't come down there and f.u.c.k some sense into you.' His voice is deadly serious and even a little angry.

He wouldn't, he couldn't. Or could he? b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l, I'm not even sure. 'Knock yourself out.' I respond, very lightly.

He laughs. 'I was serious, lady.'

'I know you were.' I've no doubt about it, but he will have to wait until tomorrow to do any sort of f.u.c.king.

'Do your legs ache?' he asks, just as I'm stretching them under my desk again.

'-ish,' I'm not giving him the satisfaction of knowing that I'm actually in pain. I'll have a Radox bath before I go out. Hold up...was he trying to cripple me so I can't go out?

'-ish,' he replies, humour clear in his husky voice. 'Remember our deal?'

I roll my eyes to myself. I was kidding myself if I thought he would forget about his little deal. And now I'm certain he had me running a marathon at the break of dawn in an attempt to immobilise me. Control freak!

'No reminder f.u.c.k required.' I mutter. He'll never know. I'm not going to get so drunk that I have a raging hangover a it's too soon after my last performance.

'Watch your mouth, Ava.' he sighs, tiredly. 'And I'll decide when and if a reminder f.u.c.k is necessary.'

He's serious? I gape a little down the phone. Has he no sense of humour? I stand up again, pulling my thigh to my b.u.t.t on a satisfied groan. d.a.m.n him and his break of dawn run.

'Roger that.' I confirm with all the sarcasm it deserves.

'When will I see you?' he sighs.

'Tomorrow?' I really do want to see him, despite his challenging ways.

'I'll pick you up at eight.'

Eight? It's a Sat.u.r.day, I want a lay in. Eight? I really won't be getting drunk, not if Jesse is going to be rocking up at eight. 'Noon,' I counter.

'Eight.'

'Eleven.'

'Eight!' he barks.

'You're supposed to meet me half way!' The man is impossible.

'I'll see you at eight.' He hangs up, leaving me on one leg with my phone hanging from my ear. I look at my mobile disbelievingly. He can turn up at eight all he likes; I won't be awake to let him in. And I seriously doubt Kate will be either. I sink my achy body back into my chair on a few sharp inhales of breath. I'm never running again.

'Tom,' I call. 'We're out tonight, you coming?'

He looks up with a dirty, great big grin on his baby face. 'I shall decline graciously,' He bows his head like the gentleman I know he's not. 'I have a date!'

'Another?'

'I can't come. I a.s.sume you were going to ask me.' Victoria huffs without looking up from her drawings. I don't dignify her sarcasm with a response, flas.h.i.+ng my screwed up face to her back instead.

'Yes! This one is definitely a keeper.' Tom nods with the biggest smirk on his face.

I leave Tom with his grin, returning to my computer. They're all keepers.

I leave the office at six, heading straight to the shop to get some Radox and a bottle of wine, before making my way to the tube. I fight off the temptation to open the wine here and now. It's Friday, I'm catching up with Kate tonight and spending the day with my challenging control freak tomorrow. Perfect.

I walk through the front door, finding a half-naked Sam walking out of Kate's workshop, followed by a fully dressed Kate with a highly satisfied smile on her face.

'Seriously?' I splutter, as I try to direct my eyes anywhere, except on Sam's fine physic.

He blinds me with his ultimate cheeky grin and turns to face Kate, giving me a rear view of his bare back and baggy jeaned a.r.s.e. It's then that I notice a lump of cake mixture at the nape of his neck.

'You missed a bit.' I point to the offending smear of mixture.

Kate swivels Sam back around to face me and licks up the centre of his back towards his neck. He smirks at me. I laugh. What a pair of exhibitionists.

Making my way up to the flat, I hiss at the stabbing pains travelling down my legs with every step I take. I go straight to the bathroom to run the bath, pouring in half the bottle of muscle relaxing bath soak. Then I take myself to the kitchen to take care of special requirement number two; I pour myself and Kate a gla.s.s of wine. I gasp my appreciation as I take my first sip.

Five minutes later, I'm flinging every garment in my underwear drawer over my shoulder in a panic. 'KATE!' I know I put them in here, so where the h.e.l.l are they? If this is Sam's idea of a joke, I'll wring his f.u.c.king neck!

Kate breezes into my room. 'I've turned your bath off. What's up?'

'My pills,'

'What about them?'

'They're gone,' I turn an accusing eye on her. 'I can't believe you let Sam in here.'

Her eyes widen. 'I didn't let him in. And anyway, your pills weren't in there. I would have seen them.'

I let out a frustrated yell and proceed to turn the rest of my drawers inside out and upside down. I know I put them in here. 's.h.i.+t!'

'Chill out, you can get some more. Are Tom and Victoria coming?'

I scoop up the contents of my underwear drawer and stuff it back in. 'I already did that. And no, they both have dates.'

'Your organisation skills are shocking.' she moans tiredly. She's right, they are, but I manage fine at work. It's the personal side of my life that suffers. 'Oh, is it Victoria and Drew's date tonight?' Kate looks at me with wide, blue eyes.

'Yes!' I meet her wide eyes with my own.

'It'll never work. Hurry up in that bath, I need a shower.'

I grab my wine and head for the bathroom.

The water is glorious, and I wash my hair with shampoo and conditioner. I shave everywhere, and then reluctantly pull myself out before downing my wine and brus.h.i.+ng my teeth.

An hour later, I've blow dried and curled my hair, creamed up and got half a face of make-up on. My door opens and Kate's head pops around. 'How long?' she asks. Her fire red hair is in rollers and she looks at about the same stage of readiness as me.

'Half hour,' I confirm, opening my underwear drawer.

'Cool.' She shuts the door.

It opens again.

'What?' I ask, without looking up from finding suitable underwear.

Within two seconds flat, I'm grabbed, my towel is yanked from my body and I'm on my back atop the bed with a hulking male looming over me.

WHOA! I'm completely disorientated and still clinging onto a pair of knickers that I was deliberating over. I don't even have a chance to focus in on his face. His lips smash against mine, starting to work my mouth greedily. What the h.e.l.l? There's no chance to fight him off or ask what he's doing here. He flips me onto my hands and knees, his fingers slide over my entrance a no doubt to check my readiness a before he undoes his flies and slams into me on a garbled yell.