12. Ivy
Ivy
T he balls on that fucking asshole. It’s never bothered me before seeing him with other women. Hell, it didn’t even bother me earlier tonight. In fact, I enjoyed it. But at the end, something twisted in my stomach, and I suddenly wasn’t feeling inspired by any of it.
I lied about the date. I didn’t want him to think he was the only one having fun.
I finish my bowl of cereal and put it to the side.
My room looks like a dumping ground. Billie always suggested we get a housekeeper, but I prefer having a chaotic mess around me.
It’s how I work best. If something feels too clean, it reminds me of a clinic or a display home. It doesn’t feel lived in.
I received another project offer and looked over the details.
I’m grateful for the distraction. I accepted the job and let them know I’ll be ready to start on it next week, but it does nothing to take me out of my foul mood.
Fucking Hawke. I walk into my en suite and turn the shower on cold, not bothering to strip my nightgown off.
I want to feel the cold water washing over me, to calm myself down.
I’ve watched plenty of people have sex, whether it be swinging, sex shows, or threesomes, and none of it has really done anything for me. Sure, it builds up an appetite, but nothing compared to the yearning of my pussy as I watched Hawke shove his cock into that woman.
I hate that I think about him more than I should.
He takes up too much room in my head. I’ve known him for many years, and he’s always been attractive to me.
But I never once thought we could, or would, be anything more.
We both love sex way too much to stay monogamous, and after our only sexual encounter, I’d backed off, knowing if we became hooked on one another, it would most definitely mess with our friendship or ruin sex for us with anyone else.
I can hear my phone ringing from my room, but I ignore it and enjoy the bite of the cold water. I begin to shake, and goosebumps rise on my skin. What the fuck am I even doing?
“Looks like I can break into places as well,” someone says.
I jump, grabbing the showerhead and pointing it in the intruder’s direction.
Hawke takes a step back, looking down at his drenched shoes. “Really? A shower head is your weapon of choice if someone breaks in?”
“How the fuck did you get past my alarms? And I’ll have you know I have a gun in the drawer beside my bed.”
He shows me a key to my apartment. “I stole this from Ford. Figured he didn’t need it anymore. And a gun? Really? That’s so sad. I was hoping you’d have a collection of toys in there.”
I roll my eyes. “I obviously have that as well.”
His entire demeanor changes as he becomes very interested in that little tidbit. “I want to see that.”
“Get out,” I growl as the cold air suddenly registers on my skin. I put the shower head back in place, flip the water to warm and step out of the spray while it heats up. “Besides, I never broke into your house. And don’t you have a little blonde to be entertaining?”
At that moment, I realize I must look like a crazy person, showering in a nightgown that is now saturated with water and clings to my wet body.
“Didn’t you have a hot date tonight? And I’ve already checked under the bed,” he says.
I choke in disbelief until I realize he’s serious.
“You’re just lucky I arrived when I did. I’m quite familiar with this showering business, and in my experience, you do it with your clothes off,” he says as he pulls his shirt off.
“What are you doing?” I squeak as he steps into my space. The reason I wanted this en suite is because it doesn’t have a door. I love the size and openness of the bathroom—it’s how I like most things—open and big.
He comes closer as if he owns this fucking shower. My gaze dips to his cock as he shuffles out of his jeans. It’s getting hard, and I lick my lips at the sight, fighting against all my natural instincts to do what my body loves the most, which is fuck.
But this is Hawke…
“You can touch it.” He smirks and nods to his cock. “It won’t bite… but I will.” He winks and pushes forward until my back hits the tile. His gaze doesn’t leave mine, and his almost-black eyes twinkle with mischief as he reaches for my body wash. “Fuck, you smell good.”
“Buy your own body wash,” I bite back as he squirts some into his hands and begins to rub it against his stomach. I can’t help but watch as he glides over every ridge of his six-pack.
Fuck me, this man is something else. Nothing but sin and temptation, and that arrogant smirk takes me out at my knees.
I know I shouldn’t play into our game. But, fuck, does my body want it.
He’s killing me with a slow, torturous death.
I have to get out of here, or I’m going to do something I might not necessarily regret, but something that I’ll undeniably get hooked on. And that’s the reason why Hawke and I haven’t blurred the lines again. But it should be him leaving; he’s in my shower, after all.
“Get out,” I say through gritted teeth, my nails digging into the palms of my hands as I try to restrain myself and do my best not to give anything away. But his arrogant smile taunts me like he knows what’s going on in my head.
“Can’t. Have to wash myself.” His hand trails down to his fully erect cock, and I swallow. Hard.
Nope. I literally have to force myself out of this room, or I won’t come back from this.
I cling to the only rational brain cell left and go to push past him.
His laughter bounces around the shower as he blocks my way.
And trying to move him would be like trying to move a mountain, so instead, I defiantly glare up at him, a move that has been known to make men whither within seconds.
I shove at his chest, but he doesn’t budge.
My fingers then trail against the heat of his skin and the hardness of his muscles. Fuck, fuck, fuck .
Remove your hands, Ivy.
This is Hawke, remember?
No touchy…
I’m internally screaming at myself, but my mind and body aren’t cooperating.
“I’d like to have that mouth all over me,” he says. And when I look back up at his face, I see he’s staring at my lips.
A flash of the woman who was sucking him off not even an hour ago comes to mind, and I shove him hard enough this time to make him take a step back. “Fuck. Off.”
“If you get me off,” he retorts as I step out of his reach.
He continues washing himself as he watches me grab a towel and wrap it around myself. This asshole really isn’t getting the memo.
Fine, I can teach him a lesson.
I head into the kitchen and open the pantry.
I’m not much of a cook, but Billie has left plenty behind, and a devilish smile paints my lips as I reach for the first item I see.
From what I’ve heard, Hawke might be tough and able to fight off multiple men at once, but let’s see how he gets out of this.
I hide the item behind my back as I walk back into the bathroom with a sweet smile plastered on my face.
“Knew you couldn’t stay away,” he says, reaching for me.
But before he can get his hands on me, I douse him in cooking oil.
He seems shocked at first, but then his gaze hardens.
He reaches out again, this time to grab the bottle still leaking oil.
The moment he shifts, he loses his footing and falls to his ass. Hard.
An ugly snort escapes me as I bend over laughing.
Tears stream down my face as I try to avoid stepping into the puddle of oil.
I can’t even see from how hard I’m laughing, and before I can wipe the tears away, a hard body slams into mine, and I slip.
I anticipate the worst, trying to catch myself, expecting my head to crack on the tiles.
But it’s only my tailbone that hits hard.
When I open my eyes, I notice his hands are cupping the back of my head, taking the impact.
He’s half on top of me now, my ass numb from the fall.
“You think that’s funny?” he teases. I try to give him my angriest expression, but I snort and break into a fit of laughter again.
I will never forget him looking like a baby giraffe on ice, hands, and legs in the air as his hard dick strained in the wind while he fell.
I try to wipe away the tears, but they keep coming.
“You can stop laughing now. What if my dick was hurt during one of those falls?” he grumbles.
“Maybe you’ll have to rely on your head instead of your dick, then,” I say, still laughing.
When my laughter begins to recede, I realize how intently he’s watching me.
“What?” I barely manage to say because he looks serious.
Is he really that mad? Okay, sure, it was an asshole thing to do, but it’s Hawke. And besides, he broke into my home.
“I like it when you laugh. Maybe next time, not at the expense of my cock, though.”
I bite my bottom lip, trying to hold in the next fit of laughter. Heat fills the room, and it has nothing to do with the hot shower still running behind him.
I feel his callused hand gliding up my wet nightgown.
My heartbeat picks up speed, and I hyperfocus on his touch as it glides higher, his gaze unwavering.
My thighs open of their own volition as I suck in a breath, anticipating all the things I know this man can offer.
I feel stupid now for resisting it for so long because I know how he can make me feel. I know how my body will come undone.
His hand curves around my thigh, and I steady my breathing as I feel the brush of his thumb against my clit. It’s just a graze, but intentional enough to have me begging for more, which I refuse to do.
“Do you want me to slide that nightie up and fuck you?” he asks with a slow-spreading smirk that implies he thinks he’s already won.
“No,” I bite back at the same time my hips tilt, applying more pressure from his thumb on my clit. Treacherous body.
One of his eyebrows raises. “Are you sure? It feels like you want this.”