19. The Walk was the Rain
CHAPTER 19
The Walk was the Rain
ALISTAIR
I feel so terrible. Seeing Ivy standing there alone in the deluge as if all hope had left her. I’ll never forget that image. God, I’m such a fucking asshole. When we arrive home I get her into a warm bath with music and scented candles. I bring her hot chocolate with a shot of Baileys in it. She thanks me but is still quiet. I kneel beside the bath, pick up a sea sponge, and start washing her back, squeezing the warm water down, over and over. She had already stopped shivering in the car, but I won’t be happy until she’s glowing pink from warmth. I don’t want to push her to talk, so I wait for her. We go a good ten minutes without speaking at all.
“Will you get in?” she finally says.
I peel off my clothes faster than a hungry monkey with a ripe banana.
“Ah,” I say as I climb in, feeling the warm velvety water. “Nice.”
“Turn around,” she instructs.
I do so, and she washes my back as I had hers. It feels like an act of love. I hope she has forgiven my revolting behavior at the hospital.
“How was your walk?” I ask.
“More like a swim, really,” she replies.
I find myself smiling. I turn around to face her, and start massaging her feet under the water. “Okay, then. How was the walk, apart from the rain?”
“You can’t really separate the two,” she says. “The walk was the rain.”
“That sounds pretty zen. Something like Marcus Aurelius would say. Were you listening to a stoic podcast while you were walking?”
“Nope. It was more like a direct download into my brain. No interpreter or podcast host necessary.”
“Like when god speaks to people,” I say.
“Maybe,” she replies. “The downpour was pretty biblical.”
“Plague next?” I ask. “Or locusts?”
“Depends.”
“Depends on what?”
She shrugs. “Your karma.”
“I think you might be getting your religious texts mixed up.”
“They’re all the same though, aren’t they? Same source material.”
“Delusional men?” I ask.
She shrugs again and lies back, giving me her other foot. “Something like that.”
“Did you have any epiphanies?”
“Just that I shouldn’t expect you to be perfect. I shouldn’t expect our relationship to be perfect.”
“I want it to be.”
“Me, too. You’re so wonderful to me and my family that I get lulled into thinking you can’t set a foot wrong. But it seems that you’re human after all.”
“What a disappointment,” I reply, hoping for a smile.
“You’re not a disappointment,” she states. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. That’s what makes this difficult.”
“You deserve better,” I insist.
Ivy sniffs. “You’re wrong. You’ve changed everything for me. I was broke, hopeless, traumatized, and ready to give up on men.”
“Perhaps you should have stuck with that last one.”
Ivy’s expression remains serious. “You opened up a whole new life for me. With hope and beauty and desire and magic.”
My shoulders fall. “And then I fucked it all up.”
“No,” she she says, touching my knee. She’s shaking her head. “No, Alistair, you haven’t fucked anything up. You made a mistake. We both made mistakes. And being human, we’ll probably be making a fair number of mistakes in the future.”
“I hate hurting you,” I say. “More than anything. I’m so sorry for shouting like that. It’ll never happen again. I promise.”
Ivy watches me, waits for me to finish, then nods. “Okay. Because as much as I love you, that’s something I can’t—I won’t—accept.”
“Absolutely,” I agree. “If someone else shouted at you, I’d lose my shit. I can’t believe I was the one yelling. Sorry.”
“I mean, if there’s a fire in the house, or you’re tipped overboard on your yacht. Then you can shout. Then I might even try to save you.”
“Nah, I reply. “I wouldn’t bother if I were you. Rather let me sleep with the fishes. You can have all my money.”
“Tempting.” Ivy smiles properly for the first time since my transgression. “But I’d rather have your hot body than your money. Money’s great and all, but I don’t have multiple orgasms with gold bars.”
“Hmm. Maybe you’re doing it wrong.”
She chuckles. “In that case, will you teach me how to do it right?”
“I thought you’d never ask.” I lean in and part her lips with my tongue. She tastes like chocolate. I kiss her slowly and feel her relax into the embrace.
“Money doesn’t kiss like that,” she says. “Cheater.”
“You could pay someone to kiss you,” I suggest.
“Not like that,” she replies, and we kiss again.
“Talking about money,” I murmur, my cock firming. “You said you needed some. How do you want it? I can get my banker to open a high-interest account for you. Or maybe you’d prefer going analog—a blank checkbook?”
Ivy’s eyes glint with mischief. “Oh my god, I’m so turned on right now. Say it again.”
I laugh. “Which part?”
“All of it.” She squeezes my thigh. “I want it all.”
I try to remember my exact wording. “Talking about money,” I say.
“Yes,” says Ivy. “Keep going.”
“You said you needed some.”
Ivy shimmies. She’s enjoying this game, and I’m happy to play along.
“How do you want it?” I ask.
“I want it hot and slow,” she murmurs. “And then hard and fast.”
My cock rears up, rock-hard and ready. She takes it in her warm slippery hand.
“Jesus, Ivy,” I laugh. “If I had known this was your favorite pillow talk I would have employed it sooner.”
“It used to turn me off,” she says, pumping her hand. “Now it makes me horny as fuck.”
“I have soap here,” I warn her. “In case you need that mouth washed out.”
“I thought you liked my dirty mouth.”
“You have the mouth of an angel,” I say, dragging my thumb down her lower lip.
She opens her mouth. “More.”
“More money talk? Or more action?”
“More in my angelic mouth.”
I’m so fucking hard it almost hurts. Her grip feels incredible, like she’s in control of my whole body. I push my slick thumb through her lips and into her mouth. Ivy sucks it as she pumps her fist on my cock. She doesn’t break eye contact, which is unnerving and super hot. She opens her mouth wider. She wants more. I try to control my breathing, but my body feels like it’s about to levitate with pure pleasure. Everything is so sensual and slippery. I flip my hand and put four fingers in. Ivy has to stretch her mouth wide to accommodate them.
Fuck! It’s so erotic. I’m so hard on the outside, melting on the inside.
I remember fisting her for the first time and the memory almost makes me come.
“Do you remember,” I pant. “The first time I fisted you?”
Her eyes widen. She nods, mouth still full of my fingers, hand still working on me under the water.
“The first time I spanked you?” I ask.
Ivy moans.
“Do you remember the champagne bottle?”
Her eyes glimmer at the memory, desire like flames in her cheeks. I breathe slowly, trying to keep my orgasm at bay. I start moving my hand in and out, fucking her mouth with my fingers. She moans, and her eyelids flutter. She starts massaging her clit, and I push the fingers of my other hand inside her. She cries out, and I feel her muscles ripple.
I’m surprised. “Already?
Ivy nods. We should do the gold bar pillow talk more often.
While she gives me the smoothest, slipperiest handjob in history, I fuck her mouth and her hungry pussy with my hands. Her moans and clenching muscles are going to send me over the edge. I hold back, watching her fucking beautiful tits jiggle as I fuck her. Her moaning gets louder, and I can feel the vibration of her mouth on my hand.
“Fuck, Ivy,” I gasp. “Oh fuck, I’m going to come.”
Ivy nods. Yes-yes-yes. As I feel the beginning of my climax, Ivy’s hits hard. She yells through her mouthful, and I join her as my whole body jerks with my orgasm. We hold onto each other as our bodies are racked with wave after wave of pleasure.