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.

‘Ava, you need to contact Mr Ward and give him a nudge. What’s the current position?’ Patrick asks.

Oh....dear. I’ve completed no client forms – apart from the initial briefing sheet – I’ve sent no quotations, I’ve not established my role in the project, whether it be to design or design and manage. I’ve done nothing. Well, I have, but nothing you can class as work related. I’ve not even submitted an invoice request for the second so called meeting that had me running away without my bra. That’s a point…where is that bra?

Oh, I’ve spent a few hours sketching a design, sat on my arse in the extension on a Sunday, but I can hardly put a bill in for that. I don’t work on Sundays, and Patrick only has to look at my diary to see no appointment with Mr Ward. The only things I’ve established, concerning Mr Ward, are not of a professional capacity.

Oh, fucking hell. I clear my throat. ‘I’m compiling the consultation breakdown and quotation as we speak.’

He looks up at me, frowning in disapproval. ‘Your first meeting was nearly two weeks ago and you’ve had a second since. What’s taking so long, Ava?’

I break into a cold sweat. A list of my fee structure is a simple task to complete, according to individual contracts, and usually done before the second meeting. I have absolutely no excuse. I can feel Tom and Victoria staring at me.

‘He’s been away.’ I blurt. ‘He asked me to hold off with any correspondence.’