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I'm Your Man


by Joanne Rawson

I'm Your Man

Ruth Jones loves her boyfriend Justin. He is handsome, has a killer body, and the sex is awesome. He does have one major fault though. He travels so much with work that she only gets to see him once or twice a week, and that is his reasoning for always wanting to... stay in. At first she’s happy that he only wants to be with her, but over time, his habit of jibbing out at the last minute for every family occasion, work function, or any bloody occasion that involves socialising, really does her head in. All she wants, for goodness sake, is for people to get to know her boyfriend.

Okay, so she wants them to see she has a hunk of a boyfriend, but is that so wrong?

When Ruth wakes up in a hotel room one morning suffering from a major hangover, she tries to piece the events of the previous night together. Feeling let down by yet another no-show by Justin at a work function, she headed to the bar and ordered a drink. The last thing she remembers is sitting next to an average-looking guy with a nice accent and large hands, and wondering just what those hands could do given half the chance. When the bathroom door opens and Mr. Average walks out, she realises that at the ripe old age of thirty-three, Ruth Jones has experienced her first one-night stand.


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Release Date: December 5, 2018
Genre: Contemporary Romance

~ A Pink Satin Romance ~


Excerpt

The last place Ruth Jones wanted to be on a Wednesday evening was the gym. If the truth be told, Fit n’ Fabulous would never have been her choice, had it not been for three key factors. One, it was right around the corner from her office. Two, Fit n’ Fabulous had offered her company head office, a leading high street fashion stall, 50% discount to employees and 30% discount for friends, which of course led very smoothly into factor number three. Being press ganged into joining, by her best friends Jenny and Vikki. She much preferred the gym near her flat in Camden Lock, where leggings, oversized t-shirts, laughter and gossip were not frowned upon. In spite of this, it was necessity, certainly not recreational that she needed to visit three times a week. 

Pressing the buttons on the treadmill to quicken her pace, Ruth listened to Capital Radio, through headphones on her mobile. Pinning back her ears, when the presenter informed her that the seven o’clock news would be coming up after this next track, she fixed her eyes firmly on the male’s locker room. Any minute now, he will appear.

Three weeks ago, Justin Thomas had joined Fit n’ Fabulous. It was on his second visit Justin had introduced himself to her. Well, if the truth be told the only reason he’d actually spoken, was to inform Ruth she had gone over the legal time of thirty minutes on the Stairmaster. Since then they had spoken a little, and engaged in some banter, but that was as far as it went. Banter. Hardly surprising, as she looked around her surroundings. Dozens of women dressed in skimpy crop tops and mini Lycra shorts, pretentiously showing off their concaved stomachs, tiny waists and undersized boobs with perky nipples. Ruth on the other hand bordered on curvaceous, from her more than ample breasts to her small waist and generous hips.

Look at them! All frigging beautiful people, glowing gorgeously as they lift weights or spring up and down, not a wobble of tummy fat and showing off their solarium tans to perfection.

Striding out on the treadmill at a brisk pace, beads of sweat trickled down off her forehead, dripping unladylike off the tip of her nose. Huffing and puffing, tugging for the millionth time at her Nike graphic tank top, she cursed herself for not buying the bigger size.

Do I really want to have a runway model shape that can only be maintained by eating as much as a sparrow, then worrying if I’d gain a gram from the lettuce leaf I ate at lunch?

Ruth in contrast, could never give up on her 3 C’s diet—carbs, cheese and chardonnay. Her ethos being, men didn’t want to hold a bag of bones. As long as she worked it off in the gym, kept to her size 12, why worry? 

* * *

Justin Thomas emerged from the changing rooms and eyed his audience. Tonight, the gym was heaving with gorgeous women, all watching him hungrily as he sauntered across the gym.

“Hi Justin,” they purred as he ambled past.

Each woman had a perfect body, perfect teeth, perfect hair—Silicone and Botox. There was definitely no one around tonight to grab his interest. Well, except for one.

It had been on his first visit. His attention had been drawn to three women, laughing and chatting in the juice bar. A nice-looking, leggy, honey blonde with perky breasts and a tight bottom. The other was petite, cute, with short cropped raven black hair, impish features, with a slim figure. It had been the one with a mass of curly auburn hair who really caught his eye. She looked more refined than the other two. Yet at the same time, sultry and self-assured. She had creamy skin, full lips and piercing cat green eyes that started a fire in his stomach.

On his second visit, he spotted her on the Stairmaster. He stood for a moment watching her, deliberating the best way to start off a conversation.

“You should go over and tell her. She’s been on that machine for thirty-two minutes now.”

Justin swung around at the voice and saw a willowy, Barbie, bottle blonde, hungrily ogling him as if he was a forbidden six-foot-two cream horn cake. And she was ravenous to get her lips around that horn, nibble on the end and suck out its thick, lush cream.

She gave a satisfying sigh and licked her lips as if removing the last tell-tale signs of illicit cream. “The instructors won’t say anything to her. She’s some big shot at some head office, around the corner. Apparently, her company brings in big bucks.” As she walked away, he heard her murmur. “They may bring in the bucks, but three times a week here—and she’s still not getting a fuck.”

In that moment, he knew she was going to be his latest conquest.

Since then they had spoken a little, and engaged in some banter, but that was as far as it went. Banter. Tonight, however, he was going to charm her. If she put up a little resistance...well, that was all part of the fun.

Looking around, he saw her. She wasn’t a tall, stick figure, like the rest of the women here. Tallish, yes, but she had some wicked curves—generous hips and some marvellous breasts. Imagining what they would feel like, he felt his heart pick up its pace and an arousing sensation in his pants.

* * *

Seeing Justin making his debut, there was no two ways about it, he was gorgeous. The perfect combination of handsome hunk, and mischievous young boy. Don’t even go there, Jenny’s voice in her head reminded her, after admitting to her friends she fancied the new guy Justin. You can never trust a man with shifty eyes.

Even though Ruth acknowledged how physically attractive he was, perhaps Jenny was right...not about his shifty eyes. She shouldn’t go there. There was no way a man like Justin would take up with a woman like her.Still...he was handsome.

She now felt stupid for having stayed longer than normal—having heard two women in the changing rooms excitedly saying Justin would be in later that night. All she wanted to do was have one last look, just to get this silly whim out of her head. Now she had, she needed to get out of there.

She had almost made it.

“Hi, just starting or finishing?”

From the corner of her eye Justin was casually standing at her side. Even though she mentally cursed herself for not leaving sooner, her heart leaped in her chest, thudding in excitement. “Finishing,” she replied, keeping her attention squarely focused straight ahead. “I am in a bit of a hurry, I have a date.” It wasn’t untrue. She was meeting Jenny for a drink. 

“A date?” His reply held more than a hint of laughter.

Ruth was somewhat set aback by Justin’s tone. Did he really find her having a date so funny? “Yes, a date,” she snapped.

He cleared his throat. “Would this be a casual date?

Stepping off the treadmill with shaky legs, not sure if it was from her workout or Justin as he put a hand out, touching her elbow lightly, to steady her. Allowing herself to meet his gaze directly, his eyes no longer looked shifty. She saw warmth and friendliness. “Actually, it’s a friend,” she finally admitted.

“Oh! A friend,” he said, giving her a half smile. “So, if this friend doesn’t mind, could I ask you out for a drink? Say tomorrow night?”

Ruth was somewhat taken by surprise that he asked her. With his chiselled features, his blonde hair that was tousled effortlessly and his piercing grey eyes, still did not alter the fact; Justin Thomas had absolutely been at the front of the queue when they handed out looks. Not that Ruth had been one of those unfortunate people who had been at the back of the queue when they dished out looks, more midway.

It just doesn’t fit. Let’s face it, 99.9% of the women here are stunning sticks that attend purely to flaunt their toned, skinny bodies at people like me. So why me? Not looking a gift horse in the mouth, Ruth accepted.

That week they went for two drinks. The following week Ruth suggested supper at her place. Things just went on from there.

As the weeks and months went by, Ruth and Justin were still seeing each other, albeit only two nights a week due to Justin being on the road. He was a sales rep for a pharmaceutical firm. Regardless of how happy Ruth was, Jenny and Vikki still did not like Justin, believing Ruth was under the illusion she was in a relationship, when all she had was a friend with benefits, who bonked her twice a week. Ruth ignored their negativity, maintaining, not seeing each other every night had its advantages. “The spark in our relationship has not died, if you know what I mean, and he is so caring,” going on to explain that when Justin had been away on the road, and when he returned he wanted her all to himself, which Ruth found sweet. Even though her friends nodded back with false smiles, it didn’t stop them voicing their concern.

“It’s not that I am not happy for you, Ruth, I am,” Vikki said. “It’s been a few months now, and I can’t see this relationship moving any more forward than when it began.”

Jenny nodded in agreement. “Let’s face it, the only thing you have in common is what happens between the sheets. Look there is no one more for sex than me. But come on, Ruth, what do you really know about this guy? You deserve far more than a two night a week relationship.”

Personally, Ruth thought it was sour grapes that the hot guy had chosen her. Vikki for the last year had been on and off with Bernie, a wannabe stage director. A funny ha, ha guy, very sweet and caring, but he did have a nervous twitch on his left nostril that, after ten minutes in his company, you found you were twitching too and feeling awful that he thought you were mocking him. As for Jenny, well Jenny was Jenny, anything male with a pulse, she dated. However, if Ruth were to be asked to pick one fault with Justin, which happened on a regular basis by Jenny and Vikki, she would always say that he was one of those annoying people who could eat carbs and sugar by the boatload and miss the gym for a week and still not have to worry about his weight. Yet if the truth be told, and what her friends wanted to hear, but she never would say…was that he had a dreadful habit of jibbing out at the last minute of every family occasion, work function, or any bloody occasion that involved socialising, which really irritated the hell out of her. All she wanted, for goodness sakes, was for people to get to know her boyfriend. Okay, so she wanted them to see she had a hunk of a boyfriend. Was that so wrong?

* * *

One year later

 

Ruth stood outside Function room A, of the Hilton, Brighton hotel. Peering through the doorway, she tried to quell the feeling of dread that stirred in the pit of her stomach.

She was late for the retirement party of the company’s Managing Director. She was not just late; she was an hour late and alone, unaccompanied, dateless.

An hour before the party, Justin had called uttering his usual pathetic excuse; well actually, this time no excuse at all, just, “Sorry babe, something has come up.” With that he’d hung up and, when Ruth tried to call him back, conveniently the little shit had turned his phone off.

Closing her eyes, thinking that after a year, she should be accustomed to the sneers and jibes she was about to receive, after guaranteeing her colleagues Justin would be accompanying her for sure this time. Even though her heart hammered in the tight bodice of her black strapless cocktail dress, she knew, like it or not, she was on her own tonight. With her head held high and all the self-confidence she could muster, she made her solitary entrance.

Ruth’s air of self-confidence lasted for all of half an hour. Well and truly pissed, not only from the amount of wine she had consumed to blot out the pain of being publicly dumped again but also the humiliating cracks of, “Justin not with you again?” and “I’m beginning to think he’s a figment of your imagination, Ruth.”

It was acceptable, to a point, from her family and friends, but from her colleagues, come on, really? So she had no alternative; she left, in shame, and headed for the public bar.

 

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