A Jesse POV…

“Waiting to Wed”

by Jodi Ellen Malpas

Copyright © 2016 Jodi Ellen Malpas

The moral right of Jodi Ellen Malpas to be identified as the author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act of 1988. All rights reserved. 

A bonus scene from the This Man series from Jesse “The Lord” Ward’s point of view.

 

I’m agitated. She’s only mere metres away, upstairs in our suite getting ready to marry me, but she’s not within touching distance and too far from contact. Constant contact. Fuck me, this is torture.

My head falls back and I look up at the ceiling, trying to find some calming thoughts. It’s not working. I have serious issues. Glancing down at my Rolex, I begrudgingly note it’s only five minutes since I last checked the time. Has time ever passed so fucking slowly? I rise from my chair and make another circuit of my office…for the thousandth time.

‘For fuck’s sake.’ I pull at my hair, like I’m trying to yank some reason into my stressed-out mind.

Ten hours – that’s all it’s been since Ava’s pain-in-the-arse mother evicted me from the room with stupid tradition as her excuse. What if she’s talked Ava out of marrying me? What if she’s pointed out my age or the short time that we’ve known each other?

‘Fucking hell!’ I pick up my pace as I make another circle of my office. I’m going to make myself fucking dizzy.

A knock at the door halts me.

‘What?’ I bark, collapsing back in my chair, my arse hitting the seat hard. Then my forehead hits the desk.

Again and again and again.

‘Stupid motherfucker.’ John laughs, pulling my face up. He shuts the door and strides over to my desk, amusement plaguing his face as he scans my t-shirt-clad torso. ‘Been running?’

‘Might have.’

‘Nervous?’

‘I’m not nervous.’ I scoff, picking up a pen and twiddling it between my fingers in a very nervous way. ‘I’m impatient.’

John smiles, a rare, all white, piss-taking smile. ‘What’s eating you?’

‘Nothing!’

He starts laughing – a deep, rumbling house-shaking sound, something even rarer than the smiles. I’m a fucking joke. ‘Jesse, get a motherfucking grip. How many hours sleep have you had? You look like shit.’

‘I feel it,’ I grumble, chucking the pen across the desk and swiping my palms over my scratchy face. ‘I didn’t sleep.’

‘At all?’

I reveal my face to John and he starts nodding thoughtfully. ‘I would’ve slept just fine, had I not been dragged away from my girl.’

‘Elizabeth?’

‘Yes, fucking Elizabeth,’ I confirm. I lean back in my chair and toss my feet onto my desk, closing my eyes and dragging air into my lungs. My damn heart is clattering, threatening to beat its way from my heaving chest. ‘Fucking pain in the arse.’

‘She’s her mother.’ John laughs. ‘As much as I know you’d like to, you can’t keep your girl from her mother.’

‘I know,’ I concede, wishing I could. I wish I could make everyone disappear, take Ava away from anything that interferes with our private world of happiness and constant contact. I might just do that. Paradise springs to mind immediately, but I quickly disregard it given the potential of what might find me there. ‘What time is it?’

‘Just gone ten,’ John says, as his phone starts shouting from his inside pocket. He pulls it out as he stands, and answers with a grunt. ‘On my way.’

‘Who?’ I ask.

‘Nothing for you to worry about, you sad motherfucker.’ He makes his way to the door.

‘Hey, John,’ I call, and he turns questioning eyes to me. ‘Wrote your speech?’ I half smile at the thought of him under the spotlight as my best man. He’ll hate every moment. He doesn’t give me what I want; a display of nerves, anything to make me feel better. The wanker.

He nods mildly and reaches into his pocket. ‘You want to hear it?’

My smile broadens. ‘Go on then.’ I make myself comfortable, but frown when he pulls out a Post-It note.

He puts his massive balled fist to his mouth and coughs deeply. ‘Jesse Ward is a motherfucking pain in the royal motherfucking arse. Congratulations, Ava. You’ve landed yourself an unreasonable motherfucking knob-head.’

My frown turns into a scowl as he neatly tucks his speech back into his pocket. ‘Fuck off,’ I grumble, picking up my pen and pelting it across my office. It’s sent off course with a small flick of his big hand as he laughs. But then his face goes deadly serious.

‘Bit different to last time, ah?’

Just the mention of my deep past makes my heart beat faster and has me rising to my feet, more agitated than ever before. ‘You mean because I’m not being wrestled down the aisle?’ I ask as I make my way toward the door, deciding another run is my only option with Elizabeth keeping guard of my girl. I march past John, who wisely moves to let me pass, and jog down the corridor, emerging into the summer room, which I barely register as looking spectacular. I need to get some air.

‘Calm yourself down, you stupid motherfucker.’ John’s tone has taken an edge of concern.

‘I’m fine,’ I grunt, breaking out into a full run before I reach the entrance to The Manor and resisting the urge to glance up the stairs as I do. I hear the shout of our wedding planner calling after me, but I keep up my pace, my legs going like pistons as I hit the gravel driveway.

The sun is warm on my face, the countryside air fresh, but my damn mind is still racing, and now it’s also flooded with painful reminders of my past. Carmichael. Drink. Lauren…A beautiful, blonde little girl.

I skid to a stop in front of a tree and pull back my fist in temper. ‘Fuck!’ I roar, just managing to refrain from burying my hand in the trunk of the tree. My forehead meets the bark instead, the backs of my eyes pricking with old tears.

Breathe. Breathe. Breathe.

I need her close, now more than ever. ‘Shit.’

I sprint off, passing many cars driving up to The Manor, some staff who crane their necks as I sprint in the opposite direction, not even acknowledging them with a raised hand or nod. I’m focused firmly forward, chasing away unwanted thoughts, my legs carrying me so fast I almost can’t feel them. I zigzag from one side of the driveway to the other, trying to lengthen the journey that will take me to the gates, the gravel crushing harshly under my pounding feet.

A car horn starts a chorus of short and long honks in the distance, and I force my eyes up to see Sam’s Porsche headed toward me. I don’t slow down, but he does, until he comes to a stop in front of me.

‘My man!’ He whacks his car into reverse and slams his foot on the accelerator to flank me. ‘Doing a runner?’ He laughs, flicking his eyes between me and the rear view mirror.

‘Don’t be fucking stupid,’ I say, maintaining my speed.

‘Ah, the pesky traditional views of the mother-in-law.’ He hits the nail right on the head.

‘Fucking pain in the arse,’ I mutter. I should just trample all over her prim arse. I thought I could do this, to pacify Ava and her need to pacify her mother. But, fuck me, I feel like my heart is ready to explode. Or stop.

Sam laughs again and slams his brakes, kicking up a cloud of dust before screeching off back toward The Manor. I reach the end of the driveway and take a hard right, set on completing three laps of the grounds – anything to kill some fucking time. I hardly ever sweat when I’m running, but my T-shirt is soaked through, so I pull it off, toss it to the ground carelessly and continue with my sprint, set to kill myself off with exhaustion. Maybe I’ll sleep for the final hour of this torturous wait.

I’m only partway through my second lap, my body soaked, my legs numb, when I give up and start sprinting toward The Manor.

I’ve tried, I’ve tried so fucking hard, but I need to see her. I can’t shake the sound of Elizabeth’s shrill voice trying to convince Ava to wait a while or rethink her decision. And it’s driving me fucking insane!

I pelt up the steps to the entrance, nearly knocking Mario from his feet as I barge through the doors.

‘Mamma mia!’ He staggers back, shouting obscenities in both Italian and English as I take the stairs four at a time.

‘Sorry!’ I call, flying around the gallery landing until I land at the door to the suite.

I go to grab the handle, but quickly consider the response I’ll receive from her mother if I just burst in. I need to play my cards right. So I tap as gently as I can, which isn’t very gently at all.

‘Just a minute!’ Elizabeth calls. I sag a little with the confirmation of her presence.

The door swings open and her eyes immediately bulge. And then she shrieks, making me stagger back a little, my ears close to bleeding.

‘Fucking hell, Elizabeth!’ I cover my ears as she yells some panicked words, and then slams the door in my face.

My arms drop and so does my jaw. ‘What the fuck?’ I take the handle and push all my weight against it, knowing she’ll be shoved up against the other side to hinder my attempts to gain entry. She’ll be trying in vain.

‘Open the door, Elizabeth!’

‘Jesse, you and I are going to fall out if you don’t do as you’re told.’

‘We won’t fall out, Mum, if you let me in.’ I smile, picturing her sour face at my reference to her. I just can’t help myself. She’s really quite wonderful, but she’d be even better if she lost the incessant need to interfere and block me from her daughter.

‘Jesse Ward, you do not get to call me mum when I’m only nine years older than you!’ she huffs, reminding me she clearly thinks my age is an issue. It makes me nudge against the door harder. ‘Now go! You’ll be seeing her in half an hour.’

‘Ava!’ I holler. If she hears I’m here, she won’t be able to resist seeing me. I just know it. Fuck tradition.

‘Jesse, no!’ Elizabeth yells, her strength quite surprising as she keeps me at bay. ‘Oh no! It’s bad luck. Have you no respect for tradition, you stubborn man?’

‘Let me in, Elizabeth.’

‘No!’ She retorts, short and sharp. If there was any question as to where my beautiful girl’s stubbornness comes from, then I’d wonder no more. ‘He is not…oh!…Jesse Ward!’

I’m firm but careful as I overcome her hold of the door and push into the suite, immediately scanning the space to find my angel.

The world stops turning for a moment as I drink her in, like I’m looking at her for the first time all over again.

‘Well!’ Elizabeth spits. ‘Ava, tell him to leave!’

Ava’s eyes meet mine, a silent understanding passing between us. She knows what I need. ‘It’s fine, Mum. Just give us five minutes.’

I smile on the inside, trying to keep hold of the last little piece of respect I have for Elizabeth, which is currently stopping me from ravaging Ava before her mother leaves us alone.

Kate moves in. ‘Come on, Elizabeth. Just a few minutes won’t hurt.’

‘It’s tradition!’ She’s shrieking again as she’s guided past me, her eyes catching sight of the mark on my pec. ‘What’s that bruise on his chest?’

My shoulders relax as I hear the door close, but I’m too busy losing myself in Ava’s chocolate eyes to check if we’re really alone. Her gaze drifts all over my sweaty body, almost as if she’s reminding herself of every plane, muscle and curve, before her stare meets mine again. I have far better reminder in mind.

‘I don’t want to take my eyes away from your face,’ I whisper, my cock starting to twitch relentlessly imagining the lace I know I’ll see if I cast my gaze downward. Fuck me, confirmation is likely to make my shorts blow off.

‘No?’

‘They’ll be lace if I do, won’t there?’

She nods.

‘White lace?’

‘Ivory.’

Oh Jesus, fucking Christ. ‘And you’re taller, so you’ve got heels on.’

She still says nothing, just confirming with those subtle nods of her exquisite head.

I try my damn hardest, reminding myself that we’re getting married in only half an hour and she’s all beautified and stunning, not that she needs any of that cosmetic crap. But I can’t hold back anymore and…

Fuck…ing…hell.

I take a deep breath. Lace. Lots and lots of lace.

‘You just trampled my mother.’ I can hear pure, raw lust in her voice, and she surprises me when she starts toward me, getting right up close, despite my sweaty chest in the close proximity of her flawless lace.

‘She was in my way.’ I speak down to her, watching as her brown eyes home in on my lips.

‘This is bad luck. You’re not supposed to see me before our wedding.’

‘Stop me.’ I can’t help myself, not when she’s this close, not ever. I rest my mouth on hers, keeping my body away from any other contact. Otherwise, it’d be game over. ‘I’ve missed you.’

‘It’s been twelve hours.’

‘Too long.’ I lazily lick her lips, loving the moan and her hands flying up to my biceps, but hating the taste of lingering alcohol. ‘You’ve had a drink.’

‘Just a sip.’ She doesn’t lie, which surprises me. ‘We shouldn’t be doing this.’

‘You can’t look like this and say things like that, Ava.’  I push for a full-on kiss, knowing she won’t deny me. And she doesn’t. Our tongues meet and fall into a perfect rhythm of rolling, retreating and pecking, each one of us making our satisfaction known with continuous moans and whimpers.

‘Jesse, we’re going to be late for our wedding.’

‘Don’t tell me to stop kissing you, Ava.’ I nibble my way across her bottom lip and tug gently. ‘Never tell me to stop kissing you.’

I fall to my knees, taking Ava with me, and spend some quiet time just feeling her, wondering how the fucking hell a screwed-up twat like me could be blessed with such a wonderful woman. I’m so incredibly happy, but terrified at the same time. There’s still so much for her to know, and I’m a fool to think that getting her down the aisle at lightning speed will stop her from running.

My eyes pass slowly across her flat stomach, but she doesn’t notice this time. I know she knows what I’ve done, that I’ve been underhanded and deceitful…and she’s still here. That has to stand for something, doesn’t it? Then why the fucking hell won’t she talk about it? Why won’t I? Because I’m scared, that’s why. I hardly know what the hell I’m doing from one minute to the next. And it’s all in desperation. I’m a real fuckup.

I find her eyes and cry on the inside for this woman who I’ve fallen so deeply in love with, and, again, I wonder how she can feel so deeply for me, too. I’m past grateful, but still pretty perplexed by it.

‘Are you ready to do this?’ I ask.

Her beautiful brow furrows completely. ‘Are you asking me if I still want to marry you?’

‘No, you don’t get a choice. I’m just asking if you’re ready.’

‘And what if I say no?’ She’s playing with me, her small smile confirming it.

‘You won’t.’

‘Then why ask?’

My shoulders jump up a little. ‘You’re nervous. I don’t want you to be nervous.’ That’s a ridiculous request after my morning zooming around the grounds of The Manor.

‘Jesse, I’m nervous because of where I’m getting married.’

My contentment at having contact diminishes at the reminder of her reservations. ‘Ava, everything has been taken care of. I said not to worry, so you shouldn’t. End of story.’

‘I can’t believe you convinced me to do this.’ She sounds defeated, doubtful, her head dropping and breaking our eye contact.

Her words and actions sting. I want her to have faith in me, never doubt me, which is an absurd wish, given my actions and behaviour since I’ve met her. I’m asking way too much of her, yet it doesn’t stop me from asking nevertheless. I quickly direct her face to mine again, desperate to see her, and desperate for her to see me. To see how much I love her. It’s my only weapon.

‘Hey. Stop it now,’ I order softly.

‘I’m sorry.’

‘Ava, baby, I want you to cherish today, not get your knickers in a twist over something that’s never going to happen. It’s never going to happen. They’ll never know, I promise.’

I’ve barricaded the communal room and ensured there’s no evidence to suggest what goes on around here. Her family will never know.

I can see my words have had an impact because she visibly eases up, looking slightly guilty, which makes me feel like total shit. She has nothing to feel guilty about. ‘Okay,’ she says assertively, trustingly, intensifying my love for her even more.

I’ve done nothing to deserve that trust.

Leaving her on the floor, I go to the chest of drawers and find a towel before going back to kneel in front of her. I soak up some of the perspiration from my face and hair with a quick swipe, then lay the towel across my sweaty chest.

‘Come here.’ I hold my arms open and love her lack of hesitance as she climbs into my chest and settles on my lap. ‘Better?’ I squeeze her tight, my body relaxing with her where she belongs.

‘Much better. I love you, My Lord.’

I laugh, happiness sailing through my tired body, bringing it back to life completely. ‘I thought I was your god.’

‘You’re that, too.’

‘And you are my temptress. Or you could be my Lady of The Manor.’

She’s quickly pushing herself away from me. ‘I am not being the Lady of the Sex Manor!’

I chuckle and bring her back to my chest, my hands on a feeling frenzy, my nose pulling in deep inhales of her sweet scent. ‘Whatever you want, my lady.’

‘Just lady will do,’ she breathes, and follows it up with, ‘I’m so in love with you.’

‘I know you are, Ava.’ My guilt swells.

‘I need to get ready. I’m getting married, you know.’

I’m smiling again. ‘You are? Who’s the lucky bastard?’

She removes herself again, watching me closely. ‘He’s a challenging, neurotic control freak.’ Her little palm strokes my scratchy face. ‘He’s so handsome.’ Her low voice is setting off the ache in my groin again. ‘This man stops me breathing when he touches me, and fucks me until I’m delirious.’

I resist telling her off for cursing, actually keen for her to continue telling me what she loves so much about me. Nothing will beat it, except her kissing me, which she does, starting on my chin before making her way to my lips.

‘I can’t wait to marry him. You should probably go so I’m not keeping him waiting.’

‘What would this man say if he caught you kissing another man?’

I feel her smile. ‘Oh, he’d probably castrate the guy, then offer burial or cremation – that sort of thing.’

I feign shock. ‘He sounds possessive. I don’t think I want to take him on.’

‘You really don’t. He’ll trample all over you.’ Her gorgeous shoulders shrug, making me laugh delightedly. She knows me so well. ‘Happy?’ she asks.

‘No, I’m shitting myself.’ I take her with me when I fall to my back. ‘But I’m feeling brave. Kiss me.’

She doesn’t leave me waiting, a wise move. She’s all over me, demonstrating just how irresistible she finds me. I decide right now that I’m going to church tomorrow to thank God for this special, special girl.

‘Jesse Ward! Get your sweaty body off my daughter!’

I roll my eyes at the familiar shriek, while Ava blesses my ears with her giggling, still smothering my face with her lips. I don’t stop her. Her mother can wait.

‘Ava! You’ll smell. Get up! Tessa, help me out here, will you?’

Ava’s nails dig into my biceps as her mother tries to pry her away from me. She’s not giving up easily, my defiant little temptress. I grin like a fool.

‘Mum!’ she yells, wrestling her hands away. ‘Stop it! I’ll get up!’

‘Get up then! You’re getting married in half an hour, your hair is a mess and you’ve broken an ancient tradition, rolling around on the floor with your husband-to-be. Tessa, tell her!’

Our frightening wedding planner steps forward and flashes me a disapproving look, mixed with a little lust. ‘Yes, come on, Ava.’

‘Okay, okay.’ Ava finally relents, lifting and leaving me sprawled across the floor.

‘Oh, look at you.’ Elizabeth starts to poke and prod my girl while she looks down at me, her brown eyes sparkling, her lush lips curved mischievously. I lift up to my elbows, wanting a better view. ‘You’re a pair of children.’ Then her eyes harden, actually making me wilt slightly. ‘Out!’

‘All right.’ I give in before I obliterate my relationship with my soon-to-be mother-in-law, smiling when I see Ava flashing a warning look at our wedding planner, who’s practically drooling all over me. I fucking love how possessive my bride is.

‘I’ll take care of the groom!’ Tessa declares, shooing me toward the door. ‘Jesse, come on.’

Something catches my eye. Or, more to the point, something doesn’t ‘Wait.’ My hand brushes the hollow of Ava’s throat. ‘Where’s your diamond?’

‘Shit!’ Her panic is clear, her hand feeling all over her bare chest where the diamond once rested neatly. ‘Shit, shit, shit! Mum!’

I would have accepted the first curse, but four? ‘Ava! Please! Watch your mouth!’

‘Don’t panic!’ Elizabeth is on her knees in a second, feeling around the carpet while my eyes dart all over the place, looking for the diamond.

‘Here it is!’ Tessa retrieves it and dangles it in the air, looking pleased with herself. I take it more harshly than I mean to, snatching it from her grasp.

‘Turn around,’ I order. Ava pivots quickly and I secure it firmly around her neck. ‘There.’ I can’t help a final taste of her neck, my hips pushing forward automatically. Bollocks! I shouldn’t have done that. I’m a fucking glutton for punishment.

Elizabeth gate-crashes my moment. ‘That’ll teach you for frolicking on the floor. Now, out!’ I’m seized, but I think better of trampling her further, grinning when Ava cheekily curtseys and waves. Twenty minutes – I have twenty minute to shower, shave, dress and head down to the summer room to wait for my beautiful girl.

And I can’t fucking wait.

I’m pushed out the door before it’s slammed behind me, and I wander around the landing, smiling like I might’ve just won the lottery and discovered the answer to eternal youth all at once.

Entering my designated suite, I hear my mobile ringing. I’m still smiling as I pick up my phone off the unit and glance down at the screen.

My smile falls away immediately.

Reject, that’s what I should do, but I also don’t want to antagonise her, especially today. I stall for a few seconds, gritting my teeth. ‘Fuck’s sake.’ I stab at the connect button. ‘Coral?’

‘I didn’t think you’d answer.’

‘Then why call?’ I sound curt, and I shouldn’t care. But I can’t risk her delusional arse turning up and upsetting Ava. I take a deep breath and head for the bathroom.

‘It’s not too late, you know.’ She’s clutching at straws again.

I don’t know how many times I can say the same thing with different words. ‘Coral, do yourself a favour and move on.’ I flick on the shower.

‘I can’t.’

My eyes roll, but she continues before I can go on, which is probably a good thing. I’m losing my patience.

‘Can I stay at The Manor?’

‘What?’ I blurt.

‘I have nowhere to go, Jesse. My husband has thrown me out. I have nothing! You agreed to help me.’

I almost start laughing. ‘Not a chance! Fucking hell, Coral. You must have family, go to them.’

‘But you said you would help me! This is your fault.’ Her accusing tone and words spike my temper.

‘How the fuck is it my fault? You put in your request, and I fulfilled it. I never agreed to anything more.’

‘But you took it when I offered it all those times.’

‘I was pissed.’ I grind the words out slowly, yanking a towel from the shelf. ‘I’m in love with Ava, Coral. It’s my fucking wedding day.’

‘I won’t give up, Jesse. I know you have feelings for me.’

‘You’re right!’ I yell. ‘I do have feelings for you. I feel like I want to swat you!’

‘There’s no need for that.’

‘Listen to me.’ I’m starting to shake, my earlier contented state long gone. ‘There’s a woman in a room just down the hall who has my heart. She owns me, Coral. I can’t think past the images of her face and the sound of her voice. She consumes every ounce of my thinking space, even when I have your whining voice in my ear. There’s not a person on God’s green fucking earth who will ever sever or influence what I feel for her, least of all you.’ I take a deep breath. ‘I don’t see you, Coral. I see no one, except her and I’m twenty minutes away from making it official in God’s eyes. The only thing that’ll separate us is death, do you hear me?’

She says nothing, but I hear a low weeping sound. I don’t even feel guilty. I feel nothing, except the need to reunite with my love. I hang up. I don’t have time for this, and I certainly won’t be keeping my angel waiting.

I shower and shave in fifteen minutes flat, then throw my suit on and head for the door.

But I think of something.

The perfect solution.

We’ve been separated too much as it is. Not anymore. She’s not leaving my sight for the rest of the day. Constant contact.

I grab the handcuffs and stalk out of the room to go get my girl.

***
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