Divinely Living (Surviving Series) (12 page)

“But...” I whined.

“No,” he cut me off, “I’m not going to accept that precious gift here. The last time you were taken that way was through violation, neither of us has any idea what revisiting that ordeal will put you through. Fucking you anally should be an act of the deepest love, not an act of desperation because your best friend pissed you off.”

Before I could protest he penetrated me in one swift glide, every inch of his cock buried balls deep inside me. Tears threatened to fall as he began to thrust, his hands holding my waist as he straightened himself and picked up his pace. All thoughts of Charlotte and our argument fell from my mind as I became lost to the ecstatic pleasure. He was right. My fall out with Charlotte left me reeling and in need of a sharp shock to stop my retreat within myself, which I always did when faced with a situation I didn’t want to deal with. I loved him enough to even think about offering him my ass but loved him more for refusing to do so because the reasons were the wrong ones. I was such a fucking hypocrite, but all the same, indulging in Jonah’s body and cock simply had to be done. I would deal with my hypocrisy and slip of newfound ways of dealing with the shit later.

Bucking against him and matching his strokes, he rode me hard. The fullness was exquisite, the hints of pain from his punishing rhythm mind blowing. I moaned loudly without a care for the passenger’s sat only inches from the restroom door as fire erupted through my core and shot the first scorching sparks of orgasm down into my groin Lifting me a touch, Jonah found his preferred angle and beat into me even harder. The slaps of slick flesh and our collective grunts and groans became louder as we both chased the orgasm we so desperately needed.

“Jesus Christ,” he groaned loudly, his upper body slumping against my back. Throwing back my head, it found his shoulder as my orgasm unleashed inside me and I came so hard I cried out with the intensity. Jonah stiffened against me, his muscles taught against my sweat covered back as he slammed into one last time then growled as he found his release. I could feel hot spurts of semen fill every last space within me and still he ground against me while continuing to come. His heart beat erratically against my back matching the wild beat of my own. We stayed locked together for what seemed like an age allowing our bodies’ time we really didn’t have to calm and our breathing to steady.

“I love you so fucking much, Ava,” he murmured against my flesh before pulling me upwards and into the heat of his body. I winced as he pulled out of me then turned me in his arms to face him.

“I hope so,” I said breathlessly, my lips pressed against his chest.

“I fucking know so,” he replied then squeezed me tightly. “I own you, Ava.”

I looked up at him through tear blurred vision, “Yes you do.”

“I hope so, baby.”

“I fucking know so,” I answered him with his own spoken words and like him meant every last one of them.

As much as I adored London, even the city I viewed as my saviour could do nothing to shift the feeling of despair and now rising anger I was feeling and had been since returning from France, three days previous. I loved Charlotte and missed her like crazy but in all seriousness, on reflection, her behaviour at the airport was beginning to eat at me and piss me off. She may have earned the right as my best friend to host an opinion regarding my life and how and with whom I lived it, but deep down I knew there was more to her outburst than her worrying about Jonah and his intentions where myself and my money were concerned. Something else was gnawing away at her and it hurt like hell she felt unable to share whatever it was with me. We had both spoke hateful words, words I regretted and wished I could take back. But one thing was clear. To have me in her life meant also accepting Jonah and I couldn’t imagine that happening anytime soon, maybe not ever. And if that were to be the case, there would come a point where decisions would need to be made. Decisions that would change my life and relationships with everyone I held dear and cared for. I just hoped I would make the right choice and choose wisely when the time came along.

Jonah stirred beside me and a glance at the bedside clock showed six am. He lay facing me, the duvet bunched at his waist with his bare torso on show. His hands were fisted beneath his chin, his breathing calm and even. He was a vision I would never tire of waking up to and still found it hard to process I was privileged to be doing so. His sinful lips were slightly parted, his flawless face lax while he slept. Wayward strands of dark brown hair blanketed his forehead and the urge to brush them from his face was hard to resist. He was beyond divine, a man created in the mould of the gods and more importantly he was mine. Every hot, delicious inch all mine and I never wanted to be without him again. My slowly repairing heart wouldn’t take another beat if that were to occur.

Needing the bathroom, I quietly slipped from beneath the covers, donned my silk robe, tiptoed across the carpeted floor of my bedroom and headed down the hallway. Merely looking at Jonah aroused me and as much as I wanted to run back to the bed, climb in and show him exactly how aroused I was; I decided to let him sleep. Since our return to the UK, he had refused to leave me alone for a second. France undoubtedly brought us back together but in doing so opened old wounds, and for Jonah in particular the events of the last week had taken their toll.  Rehashing painful memories involving his parents and cutting himself off from his Uncle were weighing heavy on his mind. Walking away from his only surviving relative was an incredibly difficult thing to do. I couldn’t help the slivers of guilt that slid through me each time the subject of Benjamin Jacobson was brought up in conversation. Jonah severed ties because of me. And while I was happy he’d done so, being the reason for his loss of family was not something I was proud of.

Turning on the shower and cranking up the heat, I used the loo then stepped under the faucet. The burning heat of the water beating down on me chased away the tiredness and cleansed my clammy skin. Jonah’s desire to indulge in my body proved relentless into the early hours of the morning. My muscles ached, my sex and breasts were sore and swollen but my mood was upbeat and my spirit high. Jonah’s effect on my mind, body and soul was better than any therapy my stepfather paid thousands of dollars worth of guilt money for. In the few months since we met, my progression from damaged, soulless victim to an alive, feeling survivor had been swift. And it was all because of Jonah Jacobson the man who fucked me like an untamed animal and loved me like no other, flaws and all. That realisation made me love him more and more, if that was even possible. To see the woman I really was and to know everything I’d been through and want me regardless, made him even more precious an entity in my life than I was deserving of. And I vowed to myself silently to keep him by my side and never let go him again. No matter who or what it cost me.

I showered quickly, wrapped my hair and body in towels and padded my way to the kitchen to power up the mean machine. Caffeine was part of my staple diet, a part of my morning routine. Firing it up, I waited for the bubble of coffee beans impatiently. The open plan space of my living room and kitchen were silent but for the gurgle of the strong black amber nectar that would soon be swimming around in my veins. As the large mug, which sat waiting to catch my drug of choice began to fill; the shrill ring of my cell phone that sat on the island top in the kitchen broke through the silence. My brows furrowed as I saw the name blinking on the caller ID and braced myself for the tirade I was undoubtedly going to receive the moment I answered.

Resigned to my fate, I exhaled deeply, grabbed the phone and pressed answer.

“Hi Cam,” I said nervously, my voice low.

My previous good mood deflated as a long silence followed a gruff and slurred reply. “Is it true, Ava?”

I closed my eyes and sighed, “Yes,” I whispered.

Another long silence fell between us before he spoke, his voice thick with emotion, “Why, gorgeous? Why the fuck did you choose him?”

“I love him.” It was the truth but felt incredibly hard to say to the man who at this moment in time was thousands of miles away saving my ass.

His breath blew down the line in a rush, “After everything he did? How can you love a man that cheats on you Ava?”

My heart sank and guilt wrapped icy fingers around my throat, “He explained Cameron, it’s not...”

“Bull
fucking
shit,” he cut me off, his voice still slurred but louder, “that mother fucker doesn’t deserve a second chance. How could he even look at another woman when he had someone like you?”

“Please Cameron,” my voice remained low but more forceful, “I don’t know what Charlotte told you but...”

“She told me everything I needed to know and that was too fucking much.” The sound of glass crashing against a hard surface resounded loudly in the receiver.

“Are you drunk?” I asked quietly.

Cameron laughed humourlessly. “What if I fucking am? What the fuck do you care what I do?”

“Of course I care about you. Cameron, you mean the world to me.”

“Do I Ava? Do I fucking really,” his voice raised further, “so why the hell did I have to find out that you were back with that asshole from my sister and not from you?” His voice softened, “You have no idea do you? Not that you’d give a fuck if you did.”

I scrubbed a hand across my forehead. “I don’t have an idea about what Cam? What am I missing here?”

He fell silent as if pondering his next move or deliberating what words to say.

“Cameron, please, what does everyone else seem to know and I don’t? Your sister is keeping shit from me and it hurts like hell that you are too.”

“Hurt,” he snorted, “you haven’t the first fucking idea how it feels to be hurt.”

That comment stung. I knew how it felt to be hurt, really fucking hurt more than most. I could make exceptions for the fact his comments were being made while under the influence of alcohol but even then, some things were crossing the fine line of my tolerance. Cameron Collins was skirting dangerously close to that line. “I get you’re pissed at me Cam, I really do and maybe I deserve it. But unless you start filling me in on what the hell is pissing you off so much then how the hell do you expect me to understand or be capable of doing something about it?”

“How can you not know?” he asked quietly, “after everything I’ve done for you to show you. I travelled to the other side of the world for you, Ava, what more do I have to do?”

Confusion rattled through my brain. “What am I missing, Cameron? Please just tell me.”

He sighed and took what sounded like a long drink. “Nothing, Ava,” he said firmly, “absolutely fucking nothing.”

I shook my head fiercely while trying desperately to process his words. A niggling suspicion worked its way into my mind then disappeared as quickly as it surfaced. He couldn’t be, could he? Dismissing my thoughts as nothing more than grasping at straws, I steadied myself and spoke calmly for the first time since answering his call. “I’m sorry if I’ve hurt or offended you in anyway, you’re the last person I would ever want to do either of those things to. I care about you too much.”

Clearing his throat, he spoke with less slurred speech and a harsher tone. “Just forget what I said. I’m drunk and sick to fucking death of Chicago.”

A pain stabbed in my chest and the guilt I felt intensified. He was lonely, miles away from his family and friends dealing with shit that wasn’t his to deal with and all because of me. No wonder he was so angry with me. I couldn’t believe how selfish it was of me to expect anything else.

“Come home Cameron,” I said calmly, “Jump on a flight and come home. I had no right to ask you to go to Chicago in the first place. I should never have done that.”

“That’s why I was calling,” he replied, “I’m booked on a flight home in six hours time. I’ve reported all of my findings to Dad and Jonathan and there’s nothing more for me to do out here.” He fell silent again before continuing. “The board are restless Ava; I’m seen as nothing more than an inconvenience with no real authority to the contrary. There’s only one person they are willing to deal with and it’s most definitely not me.”

I swallowed hard before pulling a stool from underneath the island out and sitting on it for support. “They want to deal with me?”

“Yes. I’m sorry but the company is all over the place since Alex’s death and to be honest I don’t blame them. A man called Mason is currently acting CEO but he’s struggling. They need a leader, Ava and unfortunately gorgeous, that just so happens to be you.”

Cradling my head in my free hand, I cringed inwardly. “Why the hell did he do this to me Cam? Why?”

“I have no idea,” he replied honestly, “but he sure wasn’t thinking straight when he left all his shit to you.”

I couldn’t have agreed more. “What am I supposed to do?”

Cameron’s sigh rang loudly down the line. “Look, I’m really not the person to advise you. I’ve done all that I can and the rest is up to you now. Before you do anything speak to Dad and Jonathan. They’re better equipped to dish out the advice than I am.”

“I doubt they’ll want anything to do with me after my fall out with Charlotte.” I was now the one sighing.

“My father is a businessman Ava. He never allows personal conflicts to interfere with his professional life. He offered you the help and he’ll make good on that offer. He cares about you, we all do damn it.”