‘No, you don’t.’ he says quietly.

We pull up near my offices, but far enough away so I’m not spotted getting out of Jesse’s Aston Martin. I’m still trying to figure out how Patrick might react to all of this. Jesse hasn’t mentioned the extension since Sunday, and I can’t imagine a pleasant reaction from my boss if I tell him that I’m not designing for Mr Ward, I’m fucking him instead.

‘What time’s your lunch?’ he asks. He strokes my thigh, generating the familiar stabs of pleasure. Now is not the time to get horny, and that touch does it for me.

‘One,’ I squeak.

He rubs circles on my thigh. I stiffen slightly. ‘I’ll be here at one then.’

‘Right here?’ I breathe.

‘Yes, right here.’ His hand drifts between my thighs.

‘Jesse, stop.’ I close my eyes, trying to fight off the sparks of pleasure.

He runs his hand up my centre, over my trousers.

I whimper.

‘I can’t keep my hands off you,’ he says in that low hypnotising voice – the one that knocks all sense and reason out of me. ‘And you’re not going to stop me, are you?’

No, damn me, I’m not!

Leaning over, he wraps his hand around the back of my neck and pulls me towards him, increasing the strokes of my core. When his lips find my mouth, I moan. I’m being worked up into a blissful rhythm as he caresses my tongue with his, slowly and surely, guaranteeing optimum pleasure. I can’t believe I’m letting him do this in his car in broad daylight, but he’s triggered something now, and I can’t walk into that office with the ache of an abandoned orgasm lurking inside me. I need relief, or I won’t concentrate all day.

Coils of craving spread out and build up, my concern at the possibility of being captured indecently disappear, just like that. I’m all over him. He just does it for me in so many earth shattering ways.

‘Let it go, Ava.’ he says into my mouth. ‘I want you in that office thinking of what I can do to you.’

I hit my climax, crying out as he presses his lips harder on mine, stifling my moans and alleviating the pressure of his hand to slowly work me down again. I sigh against his lips.

‘Better?’ he asks as he pecks light kisses over my mouth.

Oh yes, much better. The irritating, roguish and pouting Jesse of an hour ago has faded away completely. ‘I can work in peace.’ I sigh.

He laughs and releases me. ‘Well, I’m going home to think of you and sort this out.’ He cups himself where his running shorts are tenting.

I smile, leaning into him, kissing him chastely on the lips. ‘I could do that for you.’ I offer, reaching down and grazing my palm over his arousal. His eyes widen, sparkling with pleasure as I reach into his shorts and release his throbbing length, squeezing the base and drawing a couple of lazy strokes.

His head falls back against the head rest. ‘Oh, fuck, Ava. That feels so good.’

It does feel good, but in my mouth it would feel better. What has got into me? I continue with a few more controlled strokes, the tip glistening as he shifts and moans in his seat. He must be close. I lower my head into his lap and flick my tongue across the pulsing head of his glorious cock, tracing slow circles on his wet tip. His hips buck and he grabs the steering wheel. How long will he last?

 He moans deep, long and low. He’s definitely close.

Lazily, I slide my wet tongue down his shaft, causing him to buck some more before I wrap my lips around his head and slowly take it all the way to the back of my throat.

He gasps. ‘That’s it, baby. Take it all the way.’

I pause, feeling the throb beating against my tongue, and on a slow exhale, I work slowly back to the top. He sighs in pure gratification.

‘Keep going, just like that.’ He encourages me, running his hand over the back of my neck.

I grin around him, releasing his erection from my mouth, letting it spring against his tight stomach. His eyes widen as I straighten up in my seat and wipe my mouth.

‘I’d love to, but you already made me late for work.’ I jump out of the car, yelping when he makes a grab for me.

‘What the fuck? Ava!’

I cross the road quickly, suddenly considering the possibility of him chasing me and tossing me over his shoulder. Would he?

I turn around when I reach the pavement, seeing him stood by his car rubbing his groin, a dark smile on his face. I feel untold relief.

‘How old are you, Jesse?’ I shout across the road.

‘Thirty. That wasn’t very nice, you little temptress.’

I blow him a kiss and courtesy sweetly, watching as he puts his hand out to catch it, that dark smile ever present. I can see those cogs flying around from here.  I turn on my heels and sashay off down the road, feeling rather pleased with myself – for now, anyway. After all, he holds the power.

Chapter 27

 

‘Meeting at twelve,’ Victoria calls as she totters out of Patrick’s office.

I start sifting through my current clients, making notes on current statuses. Our fortnightly progress meetings are a relaxed affair to keep Patrick abreast on current projects and to advise Sally of any paperwork that needs to be completed. It’s also an hour of scoffing cream cakes and drinking tea continuously. I must go for a run tonight.

‘Sally?’ I call down the office. She looks up from her computer screen, acknowledging me by removing her glasses. ‘Can I have a list of payment statuses on clients, please?’

‘Of course, Ava.’

‘Oh, and me,’ Victoria shouts.

Sally looks at Tom, who nods too. It’s rare to have to chase payment, but highly embarrassing when you do. Patrick’s a stickler for payment deadlines.

I get lost in my work for a few hours, chasing orders and replying to emails.

At twelve, Sally places a box on my desk. ‘This came for you.’

Oh? I didn’t hear the door. ‘Thanks, Sal.’ I look down at the white box. Of course, I know who it’s from. I open the box, secretly excited, while glancing around the office to make sure no attention is aimed in my direction. Inside is a chocolate éclair. I laugh out loud, and Tom’s head whips up from his desk. I wave my hand in a dismissive gesture. He rolls his eyes, returning to his sketching.

I grab the note and open it.

Revenge is sweet.

Jx

I smile, pick up the éclair and sink my teeth in as I grab my folder and head for Patrick’s office. Sally follows behind with a tray full of tea and cakes.

‘Wait for us!’ Tom whines, watching me pop the last piece of éclair into my mouth. He gives me a disgusted look as I wipe a lump of cream from the corner of my mouth. ‘I want one of them, Sal.’ He diverts his attention to the tray that Sally has placed on Patrick’s desk.

Sally flicks a glance in my direction, frowning. ‘I got vanilla slices.’

‘Don’t offer me any!’ Victoria barks, settling in one of the four tub chairs arranged around Patrick’s huge, mahogany desk.

‘Don’t tell me you’re dieting again?’ Patrick grumbles.

‘Yes, but this one’s working.’ she declares happily. Honestly, the girl is waif to the point of disappearing and on a different diet every week.

I take a seat next to her, and Tom joins us as Sally hands out a spread sheet of clients invoice statuses before pouring the tea and settling down. I scan the list of invoices – all marked “Paid” or “Not due” and run my finger across the page when I come across the highlighted “Overdue” section. There’s one client in the column – just one.

What?

I inwardly cringe. Any hope I had of evading any reference to The Manor and Mr Ward has just been spectacularly dashed. The idiot hasn’t paid his initial consultation fee. What’s he thinking? I glance up, seeing Patrick running through the same list as me, along with Victoria and Tom, who both look up at me in unison with the same expression. It’s an, oh dear look. I sag in my chair, waiting for it.