Chapter Fourteen
I vy arrived at the cafe fifteen minutes before her "date" with Katie the next day. She wasn't completely sure what she was going to say to her best friend and needed time to prepare. Being with Clay tended to make her feel soft and happy, and she knew she had a right to be mad at her friend.
Warren had taken Katie to Agnes's house while Ivy and Clay were being checked out by the doctor, and as much as she’d wanted to see her friend and reassure her mom, she’d needed to be with him more. To make sure he was real, that he was unhurt. That he was hers. She knew her mother understood.
So instead of making Katie's life or her mother's comfort a priority, as she had so often in the past, she'd fallen into her love's arms, heard him say the words that made her heart stall and soar at the same time.
Today, as she pushed open the cafe door, she saw that Katie had already grabbed a table. Great minds and all that. Her friend stood, standing almost awkwardly as Ivy ordered a mocha and headed to the table.
Ivy set her coffee down and looked at her friend, then reached out and pulled her into a long, hard hug. "I'm so mad at you right now," she said, but she was fighting back tears of happiness. Katie was finally safe. She was home.
She held her friend at arm's length, really looking at her. Katie looked good. Tired, but good. "Now tell me everything."
Katie laughed, the sound a little watery, and did just that. Explained how she'd dated Hamilton, ignoring the red flags because he was handsome and talked a good game and had an honorable job. Then he’d started getting possessive, gaslighting her, and she’d realized her mistake. She’d ended things, but he didn't like being stiff-armed and had pursued her. Relentlessly. And then he’d hit her, told her she was his, and she’d known he’d never stop.
So she'd figured out how to make herself disappear, on a pretty basic level. Had run to Vegas to hide. And then discovered one of her authors knew all about this stuff, via first-person interviews and research. She'd helped Katie go to ground just enough to retain her identity but still throw Hamilton off. She'd hoped he would lose interest after a while, but now everyone knew that for the fallacy it was. And when he'd found her on social media after two long years, she'd figured she could do it again, but this time more effectively.
One of her authors had a family cabin in Mount Charleston, just west of Vegas, and had commented more than once on the fact it was too bad she didn't get out there very often, and that Katie should use it whenever she wanted. So Katie had, unbeknownst to the author, since Katie didn't want to put her client in any danger.
It had been the perfect hiding spot, but Wi-Fi in the mountains sucked and she was planning an event for one of her clients, that she'd vowed to complete before she disappeared, so she'd taken her chances and come down the mountain to an internet cafe once a week. Which was exactly where Warren had found her.
"You should have told me about Hamilton, about all of it," Ivy chided as she finished her coffee, fascinated with the story, despite the fact she was still feeling a bit pissy.
"What could you have done to help?" Katie asked practically.
She wasn't wrong there, but... "Point taken, but why didn't you tell me about your illness?"
Katie looked abashed for the first time. "Because no one can figure it out. Half of the doctors think it's no big deal, that lots of people have peripheral neuropathy, and tell me to just watch my diet and exercise more. But it's more than that and they just won't see it. The other half think I'm faking something for drugs or attention." She sighed. "I'm sorry. It all started before I left Charleston, and I didn't want to bring baggage with me, not with everything else, even if you didn't know about any of it."
Ivy thought about her words, knew Katie had always been the more private of the two of them. She also knew that she was shit at holding a grudge. "Forgiven. But no more fibs," she declared. "No more secrets. You're the sister of my heart, and I couldn't stand it, knowing you were in danger, and that your health might be in jeopardy."
Katie nodded, the tears in her eyes just short of falling. She reached across the table and clasped Ivy's hands. "I promise. No more secrets."
She took a sip of coffee gone cold and grimaced. "So now you know everything, warts and all. What I want to know is what the hell is up with Clay? I mean, holy shit, Ivy, you're glowing. You're the happiest I've ever seen you, and you just got taken hostage. Spill, woman."
"He loves me," Ivy said quietly. "All of me. The artist with all the quirks. He doesn't mind when I phase out for hours. He loves me. I'm so scared."
Katie squeezed her hands again. "Do you love him?"
Ivy laughed. "More than I thought was ever possible. How can that be? We've only known each other a few days. I feel almost like this is a repeat of the first Speed where Keanu Reeves and Sandra Bullock fall hard and fast after being in a life-or-death situation. But by the time the sequel comes out, their romance is through. I don't think I could bear to lose him."
"That's not going to happen," Katie predicted confidently. "Because you wouldn't be the one losing anything. He would, and from the look of him last night, he knows it. So revel in this, girl. You've got something with him the rest of us only get to sigh over."
Ivy knew that was solid advice, so she hugged her friend again, hard, and drove herself home.
Clay was waiting when she got there, leaning up against his motorcycle and everything in her heart turned over simply at the sight of him. She carefully parked the Gremlin and walked straight into his arms.
"How did it go?" he asked against her hair, his arms banding tight around her. Keeping her safe, holding her close to his heart.
"Fine, we're good now," she said, lifting her face to his. He gave her a quick kiss then held out his hand for her keys.
She raised her eyebrow at him. "Words, Clay, use your words."
That got an almost-smile, a quirk of those full lips that were so soft when compared to the rest of that chiseled face. "Keys please. I need to do the daily sweep. Even with Hamilton dead, we still have an unknown in play." He paused, looked deep into her eyes. "I will not endanger you, Ivy. I have to know you're safe."
So she handed her keys over wordlessly and waited just inside the locked door as he did his thing. When he returned, he walked straight to her, lifted her so quickly and effortlessly it startled a squeak out of her. She wrapped her legs around his waist automatically, felt the length of him against her and hummed beneath her breath.
He took her mouth, there was no other way to describe it. And she let him. Allowed herself to be swept under, swept away, until she couldn't breathe without it being an extension of his exhalations. She knew they were moving, could feel his cock with each movement of his legs.
"Clothes," she breathed, "We've got too many clothes on."
He just took her mouth in another drugging kiss and began to climb the stairs. She clung to him and wondered how it could possibly get better. Every single time it was better.
"I've wanted to fuck you on this couch since I first saw it," he said, and pushed her down his body in a long slide. "Wanted to see you splayed out on it after I've made you come, your eyes glassy, your hair messy, your pussy wet from my mouth."
"Oh," she said faintly. He was definitely using his words. All of them. And very, very well.
He smiled at her, and it reminded her of that day in the elevator, when she'd wondered if she could handle this side of Clay. Now she knew she could, and so she returned the smile, even though the words he'd said still sung throughout her body.
He made quick work of her blouse, then pushed her skirt down, leaving her in her panties and bra. Today it was a matching peach set that made him hum in happy response. He ran a finger down the top of one cup. "I like these," he said, his voice almost choppy.
She would have marveled at the power of lingerie if she wasn't so turned on.
"I'll like them even better off," he said, and in response she slipped out of them, standing before him, vulnerable but not feeling the least bit scared. She jutted her chin at him. "Okay mister, you said the words, now show me."
That smile was back, the one that made her heart beat in triple time, as he eased her down on the couch, gently opened her legs, and worshipped her with his mouth and fingers, bringing her along so slowly, so sweetly that when she tipped over, it was on a sigh.
He sat back on his haunches, pure love and lust on his face, and surveyed her, a satisfied smile creasing his cheeks. "Mission accomplished," he said, standing to toe out of his boots, then shrug out of his jeans and shirt. She watched him with a happy fascination that she hoped would never, ever dim.
And when he came to her, joined with her, she knew she'd found her happy ending with the sexiest man she'd ever met.