Chapter Thirteen
I t was almost anticlimactic, Clay thought as he and Ivy walked out of HQ.
There had been nothing new on finding out who had broken into HQ, but they all agreed that it hadn’t been Hamilton. Jones passed on the stills of the mysterious Tobias Davenport and while he'd looked vaguely familiar to Warren, none of the others had ever seen him before. But at least it gave them a starting point to begin facial recognition. And for Warren to try to remember where he might have seen the man before.
Because Dev was sure there had been no further infiltration into his systems, or any activity at all, for that matter, they would make do with daily sweeps of their residences. Because, at the end of the day, the break-in hadn't been violent. Tobias Davenport's presence itself hadn't been threatening, though Ivy still swore the man was scary as hell. His appearance had felt more...business-related. Less thuggish.
And while the break-in and Davenport’s appearance at LVMPD might not be linked, they all thought they were. So they’d be on high alert for something that resembled corporate espionage more than an overt threat.
Jones had been mightily pissed that Dev hadn’t reported the break-in, and Clay and Ivy had made their escape as the men argued.
Now she clung to his back as they cruised through the still-warm Vegas night on his bike. She laughed in his ear when he gunned the throttle, and they zoomed down the street. Then she plastered herself against his back and grabbed him around the waist. “Faster,” she yelled, and he obliged, taking them out into the desert and up, up, up into the mountains opposite where Hamilton had taken her, until Vegas twinkled like a jewel beneath them.
And while he may have left the day's events behind, he kept an eye on the rearview mirror. Just in case.
He pulled into a deserted scenic overlook, and they dismounted, pulling off their helmets, hooking them on the handlebars.
Clay reached out, twined his fingers in hers before he consciously realized what he was doing, and in that moment understood that it felt natural because it was real. His feelings for her were deep and genuine and so surprising because he hadn’t thought he had that depth of emotion. Besides his grandmother, he'd never truly loved, and the emotions that swamped him now were almost overwhelming.
But what if Ivy didn’t feel the same way? What if it had been adrenaline and the thrill of it all that had drawn her in?
“I can hear you thinking,” she said, a smile in her voice. Then she sobered. “I’m not really good at hiding my emotions, or really anything.” And that quickly the sunshine was back. “I have feelings for you, Clay. They’re so big I don’t really know what to do with them, or with you.”
He turned so they faced each other. “You just put into words what I was thinking so hard about. I love you, Ivy. And it’s not something that’s situational, tied to what we just lived through. Besides my Nonna, I’ve never held something like this in my heart.” He halted, shocked he’d been able to put it into words, and so eloquently.
She reached up and feathered a hand over his cheek. “My sweet protector,” she murmured. “You’re way better with words than you think you are.” She brushed a kiss over his lips. “I love you more than anything I ever have, and you have no idea how happy I am that you feel the same way.” She let out a watery laugh and he realized she had tears in her eyes.
“Don’t cry,” he begged.
“I’m just happy,” she said, brushing away a tear. “I mean, I’m sorry it took a shitshow of this proportion to get us together, but I don’t know that we’d have met any other way.”
He nodded, though he suspected that fate would have thrown them together somehow. And wasn’t it funny that he was ascribing this to fate, when he’d never believed in it before?
He led her to the rock wall lining the turnout, pulled her down to sit next to him, took a deep breath and said what he didn’t really want to. “We need to talk about my ankle.”
She nodded. “We do. Are you all right?”
It was such an Ivy question, he thought, relief swirling through him. She hadn’t asked what the hell was going on, or what voodoo had happened, just asked if he was all right.
“I am. But I have no idea how or why my new injury from earlier today miraculously healed, nor why it appears the old fractures are just… gone. It’s as if the crash never happened.” Even as he said the words, he knew they were wrong. Because erasing the crash erased Dylan’s life as well, and there was nothing he wouldn’t have done for his friend. “Saying that seems like a betrayal to Dylan,” he modified. “I don’t ever want to forget him, or what he meant to me.” He realized, as he heard himself, that he had loved before. He just hadn’t recognized it as such. He’d loved Dylan as a brother and losing him had crushed him in ways even his Nonna’s loss hadn’t.
Ivy squeezed his hand. “Someday I want you to tell me all about him. But for right now, let’s concentrate on accepting the gifts we were given today. Hamilton is dead, but you and I are alive. You’ve been healed, and that should be celebrated. We can worry about the how and the why another day. Tonight,” she leaned in, brushed her nose against the shell of his ear. “Tonight I want you to fuck me hard, to remind me that we’re still alive. And then I’m going to ride you so long and slow it’ll drive both of us out of our minds.”
Jesus. All of the blood in his body shot directly to his dick. “Your wish is my command,” he said, his voice sounding like gravel, even to his own ears. “But we’re not doing it here. My condo is closest.” He pulled her to her feet. “Hang on tight babe, because it’s going to be a fast and furious ride.” He wasn’t sure whether he meant the bike ride back down the mountain, or the hard and sweaty sex soon to come.
~
Ivy clung to Clay’s back as they rocketed through the velvet-dark night, everything inside her singing. Singing with joy, with arousal, with contentment. Because she’d finally, after all this time, found her one. Found the one to not only complement her, but to be her opposite as well. And she’d be damned if she let him go.
They roared into the parking garage of his condo, and he’d barely shut off the bike before he was sweeping her off the back and pulling her helmet off. She laughed as he picked her up in a Rhett Butler move and carried her to the elevator.
“I can walk, you know,” she said.
He smiled down at her, and it was a sharp, beautiful thing. “I like feeling you against me.”
Then they were in the elevator, and he dropped her to her feet and pinned her against the wall as they ascended, his mouth cruising along her neck, down to her shoulder, biting and licking until she was boneless and panting for more.
The door slid open behind them what seemed like a century later and they stumbled into the hallway as he fumbled for his keys. They were laughing as he pushed it open, and she had a quick glance of a spare, very Clay-looking living room before they moved into his bedroom.
He slowed down then, that same almost feral hunger on his face as he ran his hands down her arms, his fingers feather-light over the abrasions from the handcuffs.
“Are you sure you’re up to this?” he asked. “It was a pretty heavy-duty day. More than either of us ever suspected it might be.” He lowered his head, brushed a sweet, sweet kiss on her forehead. "Your eye has got to hurt, and your wrists."
If she hadn’t already been head over heels for him, this would have done it.
She turned her face, captured his lips with her own. Let everything singing in her heart come out. Let him feel how much she not only needed him, but how much she wanted him. For tonight. Forever.
He made that growly sound low in his throat that made her tingly, then dove into the kiss without the restraint he’d had in the elevator. He devoured her and she loved every second of it as he nudged her back until her knees hit the side of the bed. She tumbled back with a laugh and pulled him with her, his weight a welcome blanket of safety, of surety.
He laughed with her, and she realized she’d never really seen him this light, this happy, and her world, already so bright with promise, lightened even more.
“Love you,” she whispered as she shimmied out of her skirt and panties. “Now show me how much you adore me.”
“Yes ma’am,” he answered solemnly. Then a hint of wicked entered his expression. He cupped one breast through her blouse, then the other and just ran his thumbs over her nipples in teasing circles until she arched against his hands.
“Dammit, Clay,” she said, frustrated. “Any day now.”
He smiled again, lowered his head and suckled her through the gauzy material, through the lace of her bra. She bowed up against him even more, desperate to get closer, and he tucked his arm beneath her back, brought her to him like a feast.
She cried out when he used his teeth on her, the sharpness blunted by the fabric and she felt the first frissons of an orgasm began to play through her body.
“Want you inside,” she said. “Need you inside.”
He lifted his head, his sinful lips wet from his ministrations, his beautiful blue eyes almost black with desire. He just looked at her for a long moment—too long—then settled her back on the bed before standing and beginning to strip.
Ivy began to pull her blouse off and then just stopped, enthralled by everything about him in a way she hadn’t been last night. It was as if she was seeing him for the first time.
She bit her lip and watched as he stripped off his shirt, then unceremoniously shucked his cargoes after toeing off his boots.
He was everything she’d ever wanted without knowing it. And he was all hers.
Sure, he’d spoken the words, but she could see it in his eyes, in the affection and undeniable heat in his gaze.
“Ditch the blouse, Ivy,” he said, his voice teasing, but commanding. “I’m going to lick and bite and pinch those pretty little breasts until you come, and then I’m going to fuck you until you scream my name so often the neighbors complain.”
She shivered. For once in her life she didn’t have a smart-ass reply. With shaking fingers she lifted the shirt over her head, then flicked her bra open and shrugged out of it.
Clay hummed, and then laid one knee on the bed, looming over her in a way that might have been a threat from anyone else.
His cock was long and strong and as he lowered himself, pinning her just enough to titillate, she arched toward it.
He tutted. “Not yet, brave girl.” Then his mouth was on her breasts and she couldn’t think of anything but the feeling of his hot, hot mouth on her, his fingers tweaking and tempting and teasing. And dear lord, when he used his teeth she shot into a brief, hard orgasm so fast she thought her heart might stop.
By the time she came back to herself, he’d sheathed himself in a condom and was poised over her, all sinewy strength and wild eyes. He met her gaze for a long, heart stopping moment, the world passing between them, then plunged into her, making her cry out in shock, in pleasure, in completion.
He surged above her, all finesse gone as he claimed her, as she answered and they completed each other, forming a bond nothing could or would shatter.
And when she came again, he was right behind her, roaring her name right along with her scream.
He collapsed, bracing himself on one elbow to keep from crushing her, his breath coming in bellows.
She reached up and pulled him down, smiling as he tucked her against his side, his arm banding beneath her breasts as he nuzzled her neck.
“Love you,” he murmured, and with those words ensnaring her heart, her mind, they both tumbled into sleep.