this place, his drinking, and now willingly being whipped. What else could there possibly be that could shock or anger me more than this?
'I don't know, you tell me. You said no more secrets, Jesse.' I throw my arms up in annoyance. I want to comfort him desperately. Keeping myself away from him is hurting almost as much as bearing witness to his beating. 'Why would I prefer this to drunken Jesse?'
He leans forward delicately on a clenched jaw, resting his elbows on his knees, rubbing his temples thoughtfully. 'Drink and sex go hand in hand for me.'
'What does that mean?' My voice is high and edgy.
'Ava, I inherited The Manor when I was twenty one. Can you imagine a young lad with this place and a whole lot of women ready and willing?' He looks ashamed.
My mind starts racing. Oh, I can imagine all right and it's no wonder the women were ready and willing. They still are. Look at him! 'You mean the dabbling?' I whisper. Do I want to know this?
He exhales. 'Yes, the dabbling, but it's all behind me.' He sits forward on a wince. 'Now, it's all about you.'
'You drank and dabbled?'
'Yes, like I said, drink and sex go hand in hand. Please, come here.' He reaches across the big table that's positioned between the two sofas, but I pull back. His hand drops and he looks down at the floor. I still don't understand, and it still doesn't explain why he has just accepted a thrashing from Sarah.
'So, you didn't have a drink because you would have wanted to have sex?' My forehead must look like a road map because I am thoroughly confused.
'I don't trust myself with alcohol, Ava.'
'Because you think you will jump the nearest woman?'
He laughs nervously and runs his hands through his hair. 'I don't think so. I couldn't do that to you.'
'You don't think so?' I'm shocked.
'It's not a risk I'm willing to take. Ava. I drink too much, lose reason and women throw themselves at me willingly. You've seen it.' He gives me an embarrassed smile.
I scoff. 'You didn't look very capable of anything last Friday!' He was unconscious and yes, I have seen women throw themselves at him. It's degrading!
'Yeah, that's not my normal level of intemperance, Ava. I was on a mind numbing mission.' he says awkwardly. I suddenly feel awful.
'So, you usually maintain a steady level of drinking and then have lots of sex with lots of willing women?' I think I'm getting my head around this. 'You've never had a drink when you've slept with me?'
He gets up and shifts the table so he can kneel in front of me and rest his hands on my thighs. He looks straight into my eyes. 'No, Ava. I have never been under the influence of alcohol when I've had you. I don't need it. Alcohol blocked things out for me, made me forget how hollow my life was. I didn't give a fuck about any of the women I slept with, not one. And then you fell into my life and things changed completely. You brought me back to life, Ava. I never want to touch the drink because if I start, I might not stop and I never want to miss a moment with you.'
Tears start to prick at my eyes at his confession. He was a playboy who fucked about all over the place. I knew that. 'Have you had sleepy sex with anyone else?' I hold my breath. Of all the things to ask, I ask this?
He sighs heavily. 'No.'
I narrow my eyes on him. 'What about a sense fuck?'
'Ava, no! I've never cared about anyone else enough to need or want to fuck any sense into them.' He squeezes my thighs. 'Only you.'
Okay, that bizarrely helps, but he still insists he's not an alcoholic, which is utter madness. If you don't drink because you can't trust yourself, then there's a problem and anyway, he could have been under the influence all this time. They say a good alcoholic hides it well. How the hell would I know? I think back to Thursday evening when I found him in his office with a bottle of vodka and another woman. Oh, this is bad news. Not only have I got the concern of him having a drink, I've also got to worry about what he does once he's had one. This is rich! I can't even have a business meeting with a male client