As our mutual hunger assails us and I reach the point of no return, I lock my thighs around his narrow hips, every muscle in my body bracing for the snap and release that’s on the horizon. He shudders, mumbling incoherent words against my lips.

Oh, fucking hell!

He throws his head back. ‘Jesus fucking Christ!’

‘Jesse, please!’ I cry. This is bordering on unbearable. I don’t know what to do with myself. It’s too much. He brings his eyes back down to mine. They’re dark and hooded. I’m slightly concerned.

‘Harder, Ava?’

What? Oh God, he’s going to rip me in half.

‘Answer the question.’ he demands.

‘Yes!’ I scream. Can this get any harder?

He growls deep in his throat, increasing his thrusts to an even more determined, purposeful pace – a pace that I would never have thought possible. I tighten my thighs to the point of pain, but that just increases the friction and, subsequently, my pleasure.

‘Jesse!’ I’m thrown over the threshold, erupting around him on a scream.

The loud groan that bursts from his lips signals he’s with me as he holds himself deep inside me, his big body jerking against mine. He bellows my name, and I feel the warm sensation of his release within me. I drop my head to his shoulder, my heart beating a fast staccato in my chest.

Oh my God! I’m held in place with one arm, the forearm of his other resting against the wall, his face buried in my neck. He’s breathless, and my muscles are naturally bonding to his beating length as he rocks gently into me. The shower is pouring down on us, but I can still hear our ragged breaths over the pounding water.

‘Holy shit.’ he whispers through his suppressed breathing.

I sigh. Yes, holy shit, indeed. That was beyond intense. My mind is like jelly, and I know I won’t be able to stand if he tries to put me down.

As if reading my mind, he turns us so his back is against the tiles and slides down the wall, taking me with him so I’m straddling his lap on the shower floor. My face is planted on his chest, and I can still feel him pulsing inside me.

I’m totally wrecked. My hangover has been chased away, but it’s been replaced with complete exhaustion. He had better be set to stay here for a while because I’m going nowhere. I close my eyes as I lay peacefully, stuck to his sharp body.

‘Lady, you’re mine forever.’ he says softly as he strokes my wet back with both hands.

My eyes open and many thoughts invade my recuperating brain, but the loudest one is screaming…I want to be. I don’t say it, though. I’m mindful that we’re having amazing sex, and he wants to keep me for exactly that, which would be fine by me, if I wasn’t so sure that this eventually has to end. Sex on this scale is unfathomable to me. It couldn’t possibly last forever. It’ll wear out and that will be that. But now, after having my realisation, I’m petrified I’m going to be left restoring a broken heart. My damn willpower sucks, but I can’t resist him.

‘Are we friends?’ I ask, resting my lips on his chest and kissing my way around his nipple.

‘We’re friends, baby.’

I smile into his chest. ‘I’m glad.’

‘Me too.’ he says quietly. ‘So glad.’

‘Where have you been?’

‘It’s doesn’t matter, Ava.’

‘It matters to me.’ I argue quietly.

‘I’m back. That’s all that matters.’ He clinches my bum and pulls me closer to him. Yes, it is. But it doesn’t make me any less curious. And the fact that he won’t tell me is just fueling my curiosity. Where has he been?

‘Tell me.’ I push.

‘Ava, leave it.’ His voice is stern.

I sigh and peel myself from his chest, lifting my heavy eyes to his. ‘Fine. I need to wash my hair.’

He pushes my wet locks away from my face and drops a gentle kiss on my lips. ‘Are you hungry yet?’

I am actually. Hangover sex has built me up an incredible appetite. ‘Very.’ I climb off of him, reaching for the shampoo. ‘Is this it?’ I look at the shampoo, then to Jesse. ‘No conditioner?’

‘No, sorry.’ He pushes himself up from the shower floor, taking the bottle from my hand and squeezing some into my hair. ‘I want to do it.’

I relinquish hair washing duties, letting him laver up my hair, his big palms gently sweeping over my head. I’m going to have to wash it again when I get home. No conditioner spells trouble, but it smells of him, so I really don’t care. I close my eyes, let my head fall back and absorb the rhythmic movements of his hands.

All too soon, he’s positioning me under the shower to rinse away the suds. ‘What the fuck are they?’ he splutters.

‘What?’ I turn to find out what he’s talking about. I catch a glimpse of a shocked expression as he grabs me, turning me so my back is to him again.

‘Them!’

I look over my shoulder, finding him gawking at my bum and the faded bruises from my little jaunt in the back of Margo. With the look of horror on his face, you would think I had a skin eating disease. I roll my eyes. ‘I fell over in the back of Margo.’

‘What?’ he snaps impatiently.

‘I was holding up the cake in the back of Margo,’ I remind him. ‘I got chucked about a bit.’

‘A bit?’ he gasps, running his palm across my bum. ‘Ava, you look like you’ve been used as a rugby ball.’

I laugh. ‘It doesn’t hurt.’

‘No more cake propping,’ he demands. ‘I mean it.’

‘You’re overreacting.’

He grumbles some inaudible words and kneels, planting his soft lips on each on my cheeks. I close my eyes and sigh.

‘I’ll be having a word with Kate too.’ he adds, and I highly suspect he will.

Standing again, he turns me back around to face him, sweeping the water from my face. I open my eyes, finding him staring down at me, his face expressionless, but his eyes tell a different story. He’s mad because of a few bruises? The last time he got mad over a few bruises, I didn’t see him for four days.

He leans down and rests his lips on my collar bone before running his tongue up my neck and clamping his teeth on my earlobe, tugging gently. His hot breath in my ear has me shuddering. Bloody hell, I could go again!

  ‘Later,’ he whispers, and I moan in disappointment. I can’t get enough of him. ‘Out.’ he demands, turning me and clenching my waist from behind to guide me from the shower.

I stand quietly, letting him run the towel all over my body and through my hair to soak up the excess water. He’s being so attentive and caring. I like it. In fact, I like it way too much.

‘All done,’ He wraps the towel around his waist without drying himself.

I really want to lean up and lick off the beads of water that are dripping over his shoulders, but my hand is grasped and I’m pulled back into the bedroom before I can follow through on my intent.

I look around the room. Where’s my dress? I can’t believe I’ve got to do the walk of shame in my short, black number. My eyes return to Jesse after I’ve scanned the room. I drawl, watching him pull on some jeans.

‘No boxers?’ I ask.

He tucks himself in and gingerly zips himself up on a dark grin. ‘No, I don’t want any unnecessary obstructions.’ His tone is suggestive and very confident.

I frown. ‘Obstructions?’

He pulls a crisp white t-shirt over his wet hair and down his rippling abdominals. I know I’m gawping. ‘Yes, obstructions,’ he confirms in a low husk. He strides over to my naked form and wraps his palm around the nape of my neck to pull my face close to his. ‘Get ready.’ he whispers, pressing his lips hard on mine. He’s got to stop this if he’s not going to see me through.

‘Where’s my dress?’ I ask against his lips.

He releases me. ‘I don’t know.’ he says dismissively, casually striding out of the room.

What? He must have taken it off because I was in no fit state to coordinate a strip. I go into the bathroom to get my underwear, at least I know where that is…no, I don’t. My bra and knickers are gone.