13. Ivy – Pushing the Limit
THIRTEEN
IVY – PUSHING THE LIMIT
Ivy
Today’s a new day, and I’ve got work. I change into my uniform, grab my bag, and sling it over my shoulder. My makeup routine is quick, just enough to hide the faint bruises still lingering on my face. I cringe, hoping Jett won’t act differently because of last night. I sigh, lean over, and kiss the top of Sammy’s head. Leaving her always sends a flutter of anxiety through me.
After gently closing the door to Sammy’s room, I take a few steps and peek into Jett’s. His cologne hits me first, then I see him slipping his arms into his cut and pull it over his shoulders. The motorcycle vest suits him. It’s a look I never expected to be into, but it’s a real turn-on.
He catches me watching. “Are you ready to leave?”
I exhale, relieved he seems like his usual self. “Yes.” I give him a small smile and follow him down the stairs, through the clubhouse. It’s eerily quiet; everyone must still be asleep.
Jett grabs car keys from a hook by the front door before leading me to the shed. He presses the key fob, and the truck unlocks with a beep. We climb in, and he starts the engine.
Biting my lip, I glance at him. “Are you sure it’s okay for Sammy to stay at the clubhouse while I’m at work?”
“Yes. Ava and Elena are happy to care for her.”
“They mentioned that, but they barely know us, and I’m sure they have other priorities. I’ll take some money out and pay them.”
He side-eyes me. “You can try, but they won’t take it. I’ll check on Sammy during your shift and keep you updated.”
I sigh. “You’re too good to me.”
He doesn’t respond, and silence settles between us for the rest of the drive.
When we arrive at the hospital, Jett drives around looking for an available space to park in. I reach for the door handle. “It’s fine. I can just hop out here.”
He ignores me and finds a space. Once parked, his hazel eyes meet mine, intense and unwavering. “I’ll walk you in.”
The gesture tugs at my heart. I get out, and we walk side by side through the parking lot. His shoulders are tense, and his gaze darts around. People give us curious, sometimes wary, looks as we pass. Jett always has that effect on strangers. His intimidating appearance, the club vest, his deliberate stride and facial expression... it all creates an aura of danger. But I know better.
Before we reach the elevator, he stops abruptly and turns to me. “Do you have your self-defense gear?”
I nod, lifting my hand to show him the hidden self-defense ring. “Panic alarm is on my keychain, and there’s pepper spray in my bag.”
“Keep your phone on you at all times. Don’t leave the building without me.” His tone is sharp, his stare unrelenting. His usual calm exterior is gone today.
This situation is serious, but I break out in a smile. “Bossy, much?”
His hard gaze softens slightly, but he doesn’t reply.
I push further. “Are you worried about me or something?” I ask playfully.
His eyes soften even more. He so is. And just like that, I melt. “I’ll be careful,” I assure him. “Will I see you at the end of my shift?”
“I’ll be back during your lunch break. Around one?”
“That should be about right. If I’m not in the cafeteria, I’ll be at the gift shop.” I ought to make another payment on that unicorn for Sammy. The thought tightens my chest. I hate that I’m struggling to afford something so simple. But with work, I’ll manage. I force a smile. “I should get going. I’ll see you then.”
I turn to leave, but he clasps my wrist firmly, pulling my attention back to him. Our gazes lock. “What’s wrong?” His voice is low, concerned.
“Nothing.” I try to sound convincing. “I’m good. I just... thank you for helping me get back to work. I need this job.”
He watches me with an unreadable expression as I step into the elevator. Before the doors close, I glance back. He’s still standing there, his expression something I can’t quite decipher. I suspect he is unsure how to respond to gratitude. Has he ever received affection and kindness from a woman? The lack of explains his reactions. I need to step it up.
After getting out on the ICU floor, I make my way to my locker and put my stuff away, shove my phone in my pocket, and go to report to my manager at the front desk. She smiles. “Good to have you back.”
“I’m so sorry about leaving you short-staffed, and on my second week... I was just—” The word vomit is unstoppable. I’m simply unhappy about letting people down.
“It’s okay, we have casual staff to step in, and my manager approved your time off, so don’t stress.”
I blow out a breath in relief and have a chat with her about existing patients, then get started on my rounds.
* * *
The morning rush distracts me for a while, but my thoughts keep drifting back to Jett. Between patient rounds, I check my phone. I got a single text from him, letting me know Sammy’s happy and playing at the clubhouse.
By the time my lunch break rolls around, I collect my bag and head straight to the hospital gift shop. The elderly cashier greets me warmly, and I step up to the counter.
“I’m here to make another payment on the unicorn,” I say, pulling out my wallet.
Her eyes widen and she clutches her chest, her gaze darting over my shoulder. I turn and nearly bump into Jett. He’s right behind me.
I clear my throat and speak to the cashier again. “You still have the unicorn, right?”
“Yes.”
Relieved, I fumble for my debit card, but Jett places cash on the counter before I can finish.
“Is that enough?” he asks the cashier.
She counts the bills and nods. “Yes, that’ll cover it.”
“Wait,” I blurt, turning to him. “Thank you, but I can handle it. I’ve got until Christmas to pay it off.”
“It’s paid for now,” he replies, shrugging nonchalantly.
“Jett, no. I can’t have you paying for Sammy’s things. She’s my responsibility.”
He tilts his head, studying me like I’m the strange one. “Christmas isn’t far. Save your money for other things you need.” His voice is softer now, almost gentle.
I sigh, knowing I won’t win this argument. “Okay.”
The cashier retrieves the unicorn from the back, and my heart swells at the sight of it. Bright, colorful, and exactly what Sammy’s been dreaming of.
Jett picks it up effortlessly, and I stifle a laugh.
He frowns at me. “What?”
“You with a unicorn. It’s just... adorable.” Intimidating biker holding a pink-and-rainbow-colored unicorn in his arms.
He arches a brow but says nothing. Instead, he asks, “Do you want me to bring it back to the clubhouse?”
“Actually, could you take it to my rental? I don’t want Sammy to see it yet.”
“Nah. I don’t wanna go back there. I’ll ask Milly to pick it up here and keep it at her place.”
I nod, grateful. “Thanks.”
We leave the store, and he steers me toward the cafeteria. “You should eat before heading back to work,” he says.
As we walk to the cafeteria, I ask, “Is Sammy okay?” Even though he’d already sent me a message confirming it, I have to double-check.
He nods. “I went back and checked on her. She was inside playing hide-and-seek with Elena.”
We grab a ham roll and find a two-seater. It’s busy at lunchtime. I glance at him before taking a bite. “What’s your plan for today?”
“Seeing my sister,” he answers.
I straighten in my seat. “How’s she doing?” A pang of guilt settles in. I should’ve asked earlier.
“She’s fine,” he says, leaning back in his chair.
I snort. “Wow, you’re a man of so many words. Getting answers out of you is like squeezing blood from a stone.”
Amusement flickers in his eyes.
I reach over and rest my hand on his, my fingers tracing the word soul inked across his knuckles. His eyes are glued to them. “About last night...” My voice softens. “I’d like to spend more time together. And before you say anything,” I rush on before he can reply, “I still have questions about what you said last night.”
His gaze locks on to mine with an intensity that sends a shiver through me. When his gaze travels over me, appraising and deliberate, warmth pools low in my stomach. My toxic trait? I’m hopelessly in love with a sociopath. Maybe I’m just as messed up as he is. Everyone has demons; he just isn’t the monster in my story.
I check the time on my phone and sigh. “I must get back to work, but we’ll finish this conversation later.” I stand and grab my bag. Leaning down, I kiss his cheek, lingering just long enough to notice the faint flicker of emotions across his face. “See you after work,” I say, throwing a smile over my shoulder as I sway my hips on my way out. It seems he’s letting me in, and that thought alone makes me giddy. Internally, I do a happy dance and count down the hours until work finishes and I’ll see him again.
* * *
Work consumes my time, but the hours drag endlessly. My thoughts keep drifting to Jett. His hands on my waist, his mouth on mine... The fantasy is overwhelming. I need to know what it feels like—to know him in every way possible. Butterflies erupt.
When my shift ends, I take my bag and head to the elevator. My nerves flare. My mind is in turmoil... What if I spook him? Will I be pushing him to his limit? But then I remember the way he looked at me earlier. His eyes softened, like maybe he saw the part of me that was willing to accept his past, his pain. But I still have so many questions. I make a mental note to ask them before I completely give in to this craving for him.
I step out of the elevator and spot a man in a dark shirt sitting in the lounge, staring at me. My stomach tightens when he turns to whisper something to the man beside him, and now both their eyes are on me. Dread settles low in my gut.
“Are you ready?”
Jett’s voice pulls me out of my thoughts. I look up to see him standing in front of me, his presence instantly calming. “Yeah,” I murmur, trying to brush off the unease as I glance back, but the men are gone. Shaking my head, I hate that my ex still has this grip on me. They could’ve been anyone here to visit loved ones.
I concentrate on Jett instead; his presence comforts me. I reach out and lace my fingers through his, letting a small smile tug at my lips. He holds my hand lightly, but he doesn’t pull away. The night air cools my flushed face as we walk to his truck in silence. My mind races, cycling through all the questions I have. I don’t know where to start.
Once we’re in the truck, I turn toward him, my heart pounding. “So...” I gulp. “You said you’ve killed people,” I say bluntly, the words tumbling out before I can sugarcoat them.
His lips twitch, a devilish glint in his eyes as though my awkwardness amuses him. “I have,” he says, his voice calm and steady.
I clasp my hands in my lap, trying to still their trembling. “Who were they?”
“Club business. I can’t tell you.” His tone is flat, emotionless.
My pulse thrums against my veins. “Were they women? Children?”
“No,” he says, sharp and whiplike, leaving no room for doubt.
I release a shaky breath. “Did the people you kill hurt people?”
“Very much so.” His gaze never wavers, and I believe him. Jett isn’t one to lie.
“What about the intruders in my home? That wasn’t club business.”
“No. That was personal.”
My breath catches. “You killed them too?”
“I did,” he says without hesitation.
I stare at him in silence as he starts the truck. My mind drifts. He saved me just in time before those men could do worse. He kept me safe in a way no one else could.
The drive is quiet until we hit the dirt road leading to the clubhouse. My thoughts churn, and I can’t take it anymore. “Stop the truck,” I blurt out, my voice louder than I intended.
He pulls over, the tires crunching on loose gravel. My heart thunders as I struggle with my seatbelt and climb over onto his lap, straddling him, my legs stretched out wide over his thighs. His stormy hazel eyes lock on to mine, unreadable and intense.
I’m not sure if he’s even breathing at this point, but I place my hand over his heart. It’s thundering against my palm. My fingers find their way to the back of his head, pulling him closer. I wait one second... two seconds. He doesn’t pull away. “Touch me,” I whisper desperately as the hunger for him intensifies. I don’t give a shit about my dignity. I’m out of my mind, salivating for him. There’s a throbbing wetness between my thighs to prove it.
At first I think he’s going to deny me. His jaw twitches, but his eyes are heated. “You’re trembling. Are you scared of me?”
“No,” I answer honestly, hoping he can hear the truth behind my words because I’m not scared of him—I’m trembling because my body aches for him. I tell myself to relax and enjoy this time with him. It might be the only time he lets me touch him.
He leisurely glides a hand down my side, his grip firm, harsh, sending heat pouring through me. Hope surges low in my belly. He’s slowly unraveling. I lean up and press my lips to his, and he jerks me closer until my breasts are against his chest and I’m spread against the erection in his jeans.
And ever so slowly, painfully slowly, he opens his mouth to me and his tongue slides against mine. Tenderly at first, but the long licks quickly spiral into a passionate kiss with just the right amount of aggression to wildly turn me on. My nails dig into his head as I pull him closer to deepen the kiss. He moans loudly.
He nibbles on my lower lip, the pressure teetering on the edge of pain before he pulls back. When his hand cups my breasts, kneading them with rhythmic, firm squeezes, my head falls back as I gasp, his touch igniting a fierce lust inside me. He presses his lips against my racing pulse and leaves open-mouthed kisses along my throat. I’m panting, my skin flushed and feverish, more aroused than I’ve ever been, and we haven’t even gone all the way yet.
My mouth finds his, eager and demanding, as the bulge of his cock presses against my pants. I surrender completely to the hurricane of sensations until he breaks the kiss, his chest heaving, and grabs my wrists from behind his head, shoving them in front of me. Without a word, he picks me up and pushes me back onto the passenger seat. Both of us are gasping for air. The intensity crackles between us.
Then, Jett flings the door open. The sudden jolt startles me, and my stomach knots with tension. Did I push him too far? He strides around to my side of the truck, yanks the door open, and leans in to grab my hips and pull me out. I yelp, caught off guard. My feet barely touch the ground before he spins me around so he’s behind me and I’m flush against the truck.
“Take your pants off,” he grits out like this is painful for him.
That commanding tone sends a surge of heat through me, but I fumble with the button on my pants, excitement and nerves erupting into a chaotic energy, making me slightly clumsy. The sound of his zipper lowering burns itself into my brain, and before I can pull my thong down, I hear the sharp rip of fabric. My breath hitches as the broken thong slips down to my pants.
I ache everywhere—for his touch, for his kisses—but I’ve surrendered my control to him, and that’s exactly what I want. I need him. Desperately. The only thing I can focus on is the feral desire to feel him inside me, to take in every ounce of his power and dominance.
I push my hips out, trembling with anticipation as I feel the head of Jett’s cock line up with me. Then, in one swift motion, he thrusts deep, rough and insistent. My back arches violently, and stars flicker across my vision. The initial shock of pain quickly morphs into a dizzying wave of pleasure that consumes me entirely.
“Fuck,” he grounds out between clenched teeth, his voice raw and primal.
He doesn’t give me a moment to adjust, driving into me relentlessly, my body pinned helplessly between him and the unyielding metal. My sharp breaths spill out in rapid bursts as he takes over, his hands gripping my hips with a force that promises bruises. Fingers tangle in my damp hair, tugging hard, sending sparks through me as he loses himself completely.
He’s wild and out of control. “Jett!” I cry out, my voice cracking as his relentless rhythm pushes me to the edge of sanity. His growls are guttural, primal, each thrust pushing me deeper into a storm of sensation. The heat, the friction, the sheer intensity of it all leave me trembling, my body overwhelmed, my will undone.
He jerks violently, his rhythm stuttering as a loud, hoarse groan escapes him. Heat surges through me as he comes, filling me completely, his final thrusts slowing to a stop before he pulls out of me in a rush, leaving me breathless and unsteady.
“Wow,” I whisper, dazed and drunk on the high of giving myself over to him. My thighs are slick, his release still dripping down, a stark reminder of the rawness of our connection. Panic flashes through me as the realization hits me. No condom. Fuck.
The sound of his boots crunching the gravel fades as he moves away, leaving me to hurriedly pull up my pants with shaky, uncoordinated movements. My legs are trembling as I climb back into the truck, my mind racing.
When he starts the engine, I steal a glance at him, craving the intimacy we just shared. But it’s gone. It vanishes in an instant as his expression hardens, his gaze fixed coldly on the road ahead. He’s not Jett anymore. He’s Demon again, his icy persona closing the door to whatever we just shared, and the silence between us is suffocating.
By the time we reach the clubhouse, I focus on Sammy to distract myself from the sting of his coldness. He keeps his distance, and the gap between us feels insurmountable. After a quick shower, Sammy and I crawl into bed, and exhaustion swallows me whole. Between work and Jett, I’m spent, physically and mentally. Sleep claims me within moments, but my subconscious lingers, tangled in the chaos Jett left behind.