CHAPTER SIX
WELLS
I vy has been here for a couple of days, and we’ve all settled into a rhythm. We’ll be traveling to New Orleans tomorrow, so plans are on track. With so many loose ends to tie, I’ve had less time with my leading lady than I’d like, but it’s probably for the best.
I’ve had years to learn her, admire her, obsess over her. Crave her smell and her taste. Long for her touch.
She’s even better—utter perfection. A goddamn masterpiece.
But she needs time to crave me the same way so that when she’s officially mine, she’ll believe she chose this regardless of how skewed that truth is.
The waves of pulsing electricity constantly crackling between us suggest it won’t take long, but closing that energized space too rapidly would be a mistake. It can’t happen until she’s prepared to fight.
She’s the storm. I need her to clear the path for us.
Not every aspect of Ivy’s arrival has been as smooth as I’d prefer, but I can’t say that’s unexpected. Gage steers clear of her like she’s a plague. That’s going to take some time.
His life disintegrated at the hands of the one person he trusted to be his future. She buried his trust in humanity, especially women, right along with his gentle-hearted corpse.
He has plans to rectify that, but I’ve put those on hold until our business with Ivy is completed. So, unfortunately, my girl glimmers like nothing more than a deceitful, shiny obstacle to Gage. But if anyone can take him on without crumbling, it’s my Little Storm. Even if she doesn’t know it yet.
At the moment, I’m sneaking around in the kitchen, marinating steaks for tonight’s dinner and quietly eavesdropping on Ivy and Liam conversing in the great room. The couch is angled in a catercorner position, allowing me to see Ivy’s face without her noticing I’m here. As of yet anyway.
“Hey.” Liam taps her thigh. “Your eyes are open, but no one’s home. It’s creeping me out.”
“Sorry,” she says, curled up near him on the couch, a half cushion away. Too damn close for my liking. “I have a whole other world up here that sucks me in when I least expect it. And often against my will. It’s like trying to hold on to grains of sand.”
Holding grains of sand.
He glances at her before turning back to his laptop. “I bet that’s inconvenient.”
“It’s a matter of perspective.” She nudges his bicep with a playful poke. “Like being pegged a good guy or a hero. Maybe my mind is full of gray matter.”
“You’re spacey but quick,” he says.
Maybe that was an inside joke between them. That thought turns my stomach. I’d give anything to Liam, except her. Not even her laughs and jokes.
He shakes his head. “Must’ve made school challenging. ADHD?”
“Now, you sound like my teachers did when I was growing up. My father wanted me to concentrate on the ways to adjust the world to fit my needs rather than a label requiring me to adjust to the world, so I’m not sure.
Some of that fits. I’m definitely not neurotypical, but it doesn’t matter.
I’ve learned to use it to my advantage instead of being held back by it. ”
She’s so strong, so determined. My molars grind at the realization that I’m not the one she’s sharing this with, but before I can get too hung up, she’s on to something else. “How come I never see staff, but none of you clean or do yard maintenance?”
Liam hammers away at the keyboard as if she hadn’t shared something deeply personal ten seconds ago.
“Wells is skeptical of everyone. He has a staff of ten that comes on Mondays to do laundry, cleaning, yard upkeep. There’s even a cook who preps meals for us.
But he won’t let anyone stay here or be on property daily.
He locks anything important up on Monday morning and keeps them under surveillance. ”
She laughs, fingers twirling a ginger strand. “He’s intense, huh?”
“That’s an understatement.” His eyes come off his screen and set on her. Flirty fucking smirk, no doubt. “Do you like that? Overbearing? Controlling?”
“Powerful. Dominant. Sexy. Yeah, that works.”
Jesus, she’s perfect. Doesn’t miss a beat and calls me sexy to Liam’s face. A goddamn dream.
“Down, girl,” Liam snipes with a chuckle. He’s going to fuck with her now.
Don’t let him get the upper hand, Little Storm.
He sets his laptop aside and twists his entire body toward her. “So, you’re sitting pretty then, aren’t you? Got the man. Got the house.”
“I’m not complaining.” She smiles, big and bright and full of life.
“I mean, of course, Wells is a package deal, so it’s not simply a man and his house.
There’s his crew”—she thrusts a hand out, motioning to him—“and the weird occupation. Although the career I find”—she licks her lips—“seductive. I can’t say the same for …
” She stares at him for a beat, sweet smile still in place while letting the kill shot penetrate a bit deeper.
“I’m afraid I’ve said too much. Where are my manners? ”
Brilliant.
Liam cackles. “That was beautiful, Ivy. Seamless. And since I know we’re only playing here, I won’t even hold that lie against you. You high-society girls never marry the man you’re actually attracted to. It’s bred into you—sad really.”
“Oh, is that why you’re not taken? You’re the side piece? The pool boy? The help?”
She’s ruthless. I’m so fucking turned on right now, my cock is throbbing.
His arm stretches out behind her on the back of the couch. Not touching, but dangerously close.
He leans, blocking her face from me. “Is that your fantasy? Doing the pool boy right under your husband’s nose? And here I thought, you came for the house and our sweet rides .”
“I admit, the cars and the house are turn-ons,” she says. “There’s nothing sexier than a two-story library, especially once my book boyfriends reside in it. They’re … talented .”
Book boyfriends? I’ll have to double back to that one later.
“Too bad.” He tsks. “This place is temporary.”
Fuck .
Her spine snaps woodenly straight, cool and collected bulldozed by rigid agitation. “Temporary? Who buys a multimillion-dollar home in Ohio as a pit stop?”
He shrugs, reaching for his laptop. “We’re here for a job. When it’s done, we’ll move on.”
“Wells never mentioned that.” She scoffs. “Shouldn’t he have asked me if I was willing to move?”
“I guess all that sexy, dominant power comes with secrets, darling.” His fingers rollick lightning fast over the keys. “That’s why the pool boy ends up being enticing.”
Such a jackass.
“How long until it’s completed?” Her usual raspy warble is marked with heavy gravel.
He’s gotten to her. Of course, I’ll be the one cleaning up his mess.
“Almost done.” His taunt is indisputably delivered with his signature goading twinkle, whether I can witness it or not .
“Almost done?” She springs off the couch, so I shuffle into the mudroom, out of sight, but still capable of listening. “Wells needs me to help with a business issue. Will that still be the case when you’re done with the job here?”
“No,” he says flatly.
Motherfucker.
“Oh.” She sounds out of breath. She must be pacing or hyperventilating. Hopefully, it’s not the latter. “So, that’ll be it? Jesus, this is a mistake. What the hell did I do?”
I walk back into the kitchen just in time to see Liam reach for her arm.
“It isn’t a mistake.” He sighs, clearly regretful that he got her so riled.
“Wells might not need you for business afterward, but you’ll need him for your inheritance, and he’ll be there.
He’s a man of his word. You have nothing to worry about concerning that, Ivy. ”
That seems like a decent cue, so I amble through the back of the great room toward my office, feigning oblivion. Ivy catches sight of me, and her deep blue doe eyes morph into orbs of fire while Liam snickers under his breath. I do the only logical thing—pick up my speed.
A trained killer seeking refuge from a petite five-foot-three … vixen. Proud moment.
She storms through my office door before I can even reach my desk, the temperature immediately skyrocketing twenty degrees. How the hell did she manage that?
“Liam said this house is … temporary!” She spits out that last word like it’s revolting, which causes a chuckle to bubble inside my chest. Her aghast slack jaw suggests that is not the appropriate response, but she promptly self corrects.
“He told me you’re moving on after you complete a job that has you positioned here. A job that won’t take much longer.”
I move toward her, tucking a stray hair behind her ear and grazing my knuckles down her bare neck and shoulder.
Chilled and heated at once—she’s a work of art.
And here, for this morsel of time, I’m her composer, reveling in the way my touch undoes her, strumming her complex chords.
“Is there a question within your rambling, Little Storm?”
Flustered, cheeks blushed, and her delicate freckled nose beaded with tiny pearls of sweat, she nonchalantly tightens her thighs— fuck me , she must be wet. And her nipples are pebbled through her sky-blue cotton tank.
Goddammit . I can’t focus like this. My cock is already fighting his way up.
She stares at me, breaths heavy. Lost. It takes a few long beats, but she finds her way back, unaware of my shared haze. “Yes,” she mutters. “We had a deal. Five years.”
Bending down, I let my lips ghost across her jaw. If I can control myself, this is a winning strategy. “Still not a question.”
For the briefest of seconds, she arches her neck in an offering, but the moment bursts as she regroups, crossing her arms with a grunt. Onto me. “Are you going to use me for whatever it is you need and get rid of me? Because I deserve to know that.”
“I have no intention of ever getting rid of you, Ivanna. That’s what you should be concerning yourself with.” Truest words I’ve said to her yet. You’re mine now, Little Storm.
She pins her lips, barely breathing, eyes cast downward. “So, the house?”
Is that really what she’s focused on?