Chapter 20
Ivy
I’m depressed. Gray is ignoring me, and I’m avoiding Fi. I don’t want a pep talk. I don’t want to go out. I don’t want to bake. I just want to sit in my house and ignore the world. Thankfully, Fi gives me space and heads out to her boyfriend’s house.
It’s been raining all day. A miserable, cold downpour that beats against my roof.
I’ve got the heat turned up and am curled under a thick blanket, while watching North by Northwest. If anything can take my mind off Gray, it has to be Hitchcock.
I tell myself this again as I sip my cocoa and stare blankly at the TV. My eyes are dry and hot. I should go to bed. But I know it won’t help. Sleep has eluded me for days.
My fingers curl tight around the mug as a surge of anger rushes through me. I’m mad at myself. I’m not being proactive. I should hunt Gray down, force him to talk to me. Apologize for being a jerk. Tell him he’s the most important thing in my life.
I’m setting down my cocoa when someone pounds on the door. Do I want it to be Gray? With my whole being. But he hasn’t called or texted. And he never shows up without warning.
Wary, I make my way to the door. “Yeah?” I call, visions of psychos dancing in my head.
“Ivy.” Gray’s voice is muffled by rain and the door. “Let me in.”
Two seconds later, it’s open and I’m facing him. He’s soaked, his big body hunched against the rain that bounces off him.
“Ivy.”
“Gray. What the hell?” The rain has mixed with icy sleet and hard pings of hail. It’s freaking twenty degrees out, and he’s only wearing a wet long-sleeve shirt. “Where’s your truck?”
“Broke down a mile back. Think it’s the fuel pump.” He sounds like a zombie. His skin is too pale, his lips blue.
I grab hold of his arm and tug him inside, slamming the door shut against the icy wind that gusts into the house. “Why didn’t you call so I could get you?”
“Broke my phone last Saturday.”
“Oh.” Well, at least I know why he hasn’t answered my calls.
He doesn’t move, but stands there dripping onto the floor. Straggling strands of his hair fall into his eyes. Eyes that are haunted, gazing at me with pain and desperation.
“Ivy... I ache. For you.”
My breath hitches.
His fists clench. “I can’t do this. Staying away. I can’t...” A full-body shiver wracks him. “I n-need you... I’m through being...considerate...”
He’s shivering so badly, his teeth clatter.
“Shhh. Gray. You’re freezing. Come here.”
Worried, I take his hand and lead him into the bedroom. He lets me tug him along, his steps wooden.
“Take off your shoes and socks,” I tell him once we’re in my room. And he does, never moving his pained gaze off me.
“Ivy...”
I pull his sodden shirt free. In the soft light of the table lamp, his torso is pale and prickled with cold.
“Let’s get these things off first,” I murmur.
Together we tackle his jeans, our fingers tangling. Gray pushes everything off, down to the buff. I don’t look. I can’t right now. My eyes stay on his shoulders as I lead him to my bed, lifting the down comforter up so he can slide in.
Fully dressed, I follow and pull him close. Instantly, he wraps an arm around my waist and burrows his face into the crook of my neck. I get cold just holding him, and I tuck the covers tighter around us.
“Of all the irresponsible...” I murmur, my hand rubbing soothing circles over his broad back and down his arms to get his blood flowing. “You’re half frozen.”
Gray grunts, his grip on me tight. The cold wet of his hair seeps through my shirt. But he’s getting warmer.
It feels so good to hold him. The low place in my belly that has been hard and pained eases. Then awareness sets in, the heavy weight of his arm along my waist, of how he’s completely naked, wrapped around me, his thick thigh pushed between mine.
I touch a damp strand of his hair. “I should have gotten you a towel.”
Slowly he stirs, and then his breath gusts against the sensitive skin at my neck. “I should move. But I don’t want to.”
He sounds so petulant, like a boy in threat of losing his favorite toy, that my lips tremble on a smile. “Oh sure, get me all wet. I don’t mind.”
Gray makes a strangled noise, and a weak laugh escapes him. “Oh, Mac, so many things I could do with that. It’s almost too easy.”
A furious blush hits my cheeks as I realize what I’ve said. But I find myself snickering against his temple. The urge to kiss his forehead makes me bite my lip.
“I’ve missed you, Gray.”
He lifts his head. His thick lashes are clumped together with damp. “You told me to stay away.”
“I didn’t mean all the time,” I say, still stung.
“Truth, Ivy? I can’t be around you and not think of what we did together. Not want to talk about it.”
That quickly, all the confusion and fear I’ve been feeling surges like an incoming tide. The need for escape has me breaking free from his hold and jumping out of bed.
From the corner of my eye, I see Gray lurch up. His hard, irate voice follows. “Don’t you dare run again, Ivy.”
“I’m not running...” My words die on my tongue because Gray is out of bed and stalking toward me and, sweet mother...
Wide shoulders, flat-packed muscles leading down to a narrow waist—he’s so gorgeous my knees go weak. His massive thighs bunch and shift with each hard step, his cock hanging thick and heavy between them.
Out of breath, I lean against the wall to keep from toppling. But he doesn’t notice. His gaze burns bright and angry. He walks right up to me, not stopping until he’s caged me in, bracing his arms on either side of my head. And then I see it isn’t anger in his eyes, but desperation.
His voice comes out soft but insistent. “Looks like running away to me.”
God, he’s too close. I can’t think. My breath comes out choppy, my breasts nearly brushing the taut wall of his chest. “Gray, get back in bed—”
“Only if you come with me,” he rasps, his gaze roaming my face. But the bluish tinge of his lips worries me.
When he shivers again, I duck under his arm, earning a sound of protest, and head to the bathroom with Gray hot on my heels.
“Ivy—”
“Hold on,” I tell him when we enter the bathroom.
Because it’s my dad’s guesthouse, the shower stall is massive, with white marble slab tiles and a glass partition wall to keep the water from splashing everywhere. I turn the shower on full heat. “Get in. I can’t talk to you when I know you’re half frozen.”
I cross my arms over my chest and wait, not looking at him. Naked Gray is not something I can handle without dissolving on the spot. But I feel him brush past me, muttering under his breath about stubborn women.
“I’m in.” His deep voice echoes throughout the room as steam begins to rise. “You happy now? Can we talk?”
“So talk.”
He doesn’t answer. The steady beat of the shower fills the silence. And the air grows humid.
“Ivy. Look at me.”
“Um. You’re naked.”
“You just saw me naked.” There’s a smile in his voice.
“Yeah, I think we need to have that boundaries talk again.”
A drop of water hits my neck, and it sends a bolt of feeling to my toes.
His voice is close now, and I know he’s leaning past the glass. “Ivy Mac, I want you to see me. Nothing between us. Please, honey. Look at me.”
The request wraps around my heart, has me turning. And, holy hell. My mouth goes dry, and I have to brace myself.
Standing half behind the water-streaked glass, nothing is hidden. Wet is a good look for Gray. Droplets of water bead silver on golden skin, trickle in paths over valleys and hills of muscle.
My fingers itch to slide along that slick skin, to run along his dripping hair, now bronze with wet. But it’s the way he’s looking at me, his blue eyes pleading to let me in, that has tenderness fluttering in my chest.
Smooth glass meets my palm. Gray’s hand lifts, presses against the other side, his fingers so much longer than mine. “Ivy, I kissed you and—”
“You told me it didn’t matter. You acted as though it was all just a spur-of-the-moment thing, a fucking impulse, and I just happened to be convenient.” The painful truth pours out. It hurts to hear it again, like a burn that’s been prodded.
Gray grimaces as if it hurts him too. “I lied.”
It punches the breath out of me. “Lied?”
The corners of his eyes crinkle in pained expression. “Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m a dumbass. Okay?” Gray takes a breath and leans his head against the edge of the shower glass. “I thought if I told you it wasn’t a big deal you wouldn’t freak out. And it was the worst thing I could have said.”
“Yeah, it was.”
With a solemn expression, Gray reaches past the glass partition. His big hand cups the base of my neck and draws me close.
“Ivy, I can’t lie to you anymore. Nothing about you is convenient. And you are the only one who has ever mattered. I look at you and I want to kiss you. Touch you.”
His lids lower, his gaze hot and needy on my mouth. “I want to learn your body, find all those secret places that make you go crazy.”
A puff of air leaves my lips, and he gives me a half-pained smile. “God, I want those things, honey. I want them so badly—”
“Gray—”
“No. Let me finish.” He takes a breath, his shoulders tensing. His thumb ghosts over my chin. “I don’t want this to be some half-assed friends-with-benefits thing. I want you to be mine. My girl. I want to be your guy. The thought of you with someone else... Shit. It rips my heart out.”
“Gray.”
He closes his eyes, giving his head a sharp shake. “I keep seeing that picture of you with that guy. It guts me, Ivy.”
“What picture? What guy?” Of all the things to focus on. But my thoughts have gone haywire. He isn’t making any sense.
Gray’s eyes fill with hurt as he looks at me. “Fiona sent me a picture of you dancing with some...”
His head drops forward as he glares at the floor.
Fi, that little shit. Carefully, I touch Gray’s jaw. “It was just one dance. I can’t even remember the guy. That was me trying to have fun without you. And failing.”
His breath hitches then shudders. Relief, pain, anxiety. I’ve caused this in him. And it tears at my heart.
“I don’t want another guy, Gray.”
It seems as though his entire body stills at my words, and his gaze grows searching and vulnerable. “But do you want me?”
I wrap my arms around his damp neck. Holding on. “I’m scared,” I blurt out. “You’re my best friend. I can’t stand it when we’re apart. And if it goes bad...I don’t want to lose you.”
The tips of his fingers press into the curve of my jaw. “You will never lose me, Ivy. Never. I will always be your friend.” His wet palm cups my cheek. “I know you’re worried about how it will be with your dad—”
“No,” I cut in. “That was wrong. I should never have said that. He has nothing to do with us.”
“No, he doesn’t.” Gray’s thumb glides over my chin. “And I know you’re leaving for London. I don’t care. Not enough to turn my back on this. We’ll work it out.”
“I’m not going back to London.”
Gray stills, his gaze snapping to mine. “Don’t mess with me, honey, not about this.”
I give his neck a gentle squeeze. “I’m going to talk to my parents. I want to try to be an agent.” Just saying it sends a little burst of nervous excitement through me. It feels right.
Gray slowly smiles. “You’ll kick ass, Ivy Mac.”
I lean into his hold, letting him support me. “I don’t know where I’ll live, but I’m not leaving the States.”
“You don’t know how happy I am to hear that,” he whispers. “Because I’m not quitting on you.”
He no longer looks scared or hurt, but confident. “It will be so good, Mac. So fucking good between us. We just have to try. Tell me you want to try.”
My heart beats so hard, he has to hear it. Gently, I reach up and wipe a drop of water from the corner of his mouth, my touch lingering. “I don’t think we’ve ever been just friends, Gray. I think I’ve wanted you from the beginning.”
His eyes close tight, a sigh leaving him, and he bites his lower lip. When he opens his eyes again, they shine sapphire blue. “You’ve owned me from ‘shenanigans,’ Ivy Mac.”
For a moment, we simply smile at each other, the reality of us as a couple, as something serious, vibrating in the air, tickling my skin, making my heart beat fast and strong.
Then he’s pulling me into the shower, warm water soaking my clothes, my skin, the air humid on my face. And we’re kissing, melting explorations of lips and tongue and teeth. My hand grips his hair, holding him closer.
Gray groans, angles his head to penetrate me deep. His tongue slides against mine, honey-sweet to my starved senses. All I can think is that I’m kissing Gray without worrying about why. Gray is kissing me.
We both seem to revel in this new freedom. Each press of lips, each nibble and soft suck, saying, Finally, and This, this is what I’ve wanted, and More, give me more. Yes. Like that. More of that. Don’t stop.
“Gray.” I suckle his plump lower lip. “I need you.”
He shudders, his hands in my hair, on my cheeks. “You have me,” he says against my lips. “I don’t think you understand how much you have me.”
He kisses his way down my neck, pressing his hard body against mine, grinding that thick, long cock of his between my legs.
“I’m crazy about you, Ivy. You have to know that. I’m so lost in you, I don’t ever want to find my way back.”
One tug of his hands, and my soaked shirt is off, hitting the shower floor with a slap. Skin slides against skin, wet, firm. His mouth on mine, our fingers tangling as we push down my pants. I kick them free.
I move to him, but Gray holds me still with one hand on my shoulder. His lips part, his breath fast and agitated.
“Let me look at you,” he says. “I need to look at you.”
I’ve never been fully naked in front of anyone before. That I am now has my stomach clenching, the urge to cover myself tensing along my arms. But this is Gray, asking with his heart in his voice.
So I don’t hide. My back rests against the cool, wet tiles, and I let my arms fall to my sides.
A strangled sound leaves him, his grip on my shoulder tightening as he looks his fill.
I know I’m not perfect. My legs are long, but not muscular because I don’t work out. My hips are wider than I’d like, my butt a handful, even for him. I like myself just fine, but I’m not perfect. I—
“God.” He swallows, the muscles along his throat moving. “You’re... I kept trying to picture you. So many times, I thought about you.”
Gray rakes a hand through his dripping hair, sending droplets over me. “Now? Beautiful seems too small a word. I could look at you forever, Mac.”
His gaze travels up, taking in my stomach, which isn’t a board, but smooth enough, and lingers on my boobs, average size with pale pink nipples that point upward. The heat in his eyes has my breasts growing heavy, aching at the tips, and I arch my back a little, lifting them closer to him.
He grunts, a sort of “unh” breath of sound, and his broad chest hitches. Slowly, like it has a mind of its own, his hand lifts. The blunt tip of his finger touches my nipple, catching up a bead of water, and I feel it to my toes. I almost sink to the floor when he puts that long finger in his mouth and slowly sucks it.
Gray makes a little hum of pleasure and smiles. His large hand, so perfect for clutching a football and protecting it until he enters the end zone, engulfs my breast, swallows it whole. Warm, calloused palms and strong fingers. The way he gently kneads my breast feels so good I feel like I’m floating. His gaze is slumberous and hot on what he’s doing to me.
And God, he’s beautiful, his body so tight. Perfection. How am I supposed to keep from devouring every substantial inch of him? And then I realize I don’t have to refrain. He’s mine now.
My hands are on him before I can think, running along his broad chest, over the small nubs of his nipples and down the hard planes of his abs. Jesus, he feels good.
Gray shudders, his head falling to my shoulder so he can nuzzle my neck. “More. Touch me, Mac. Please.”
The blunt length of his erection brushes my belly. It’s like a brand, catching all my attention. And I haven’t even had my hands on it.
Without another thought, I sink to my knees and my mouth catches the tip of his cock, drawing it in before he can utter a word. The large head is smooth and hot, swollen so tight that it throbs against the roof of my mouth. I give it a slow suck, and a helpless gurgle leaves Gray’s lips. His palms slap against the tiles as he braces himself, that long, lean body of his bunching with tension.
“Ivy... Sweet Jesus.”
My thoughts exactly. He’s big, and there’s no way I’m getting all of him in my mouth. God, but I’m tempted. He’s beautiful, substantial, and so hard there’s no give to him. My fingers wrap around his base, squeezing, testing his strength. Gray whimpers, his hips shifting a bit as if he’s trying to hold still.
I glance up at him. His muscled torso curves over me, a shelter from the water raining down on his back. Our eyes meet and his expression slays me—pleasure, tenderness, hesitation, as if he isn’t sure how far to take things.
Give me all of you, I tell him with my eyes. Don’t hold back. I want everything.
His throat works on a swallow. He sinks his teeth into his lower lip as he begins to move. In and out, a slow, long glide.
“You want a taste of me, huh?” The whisper echoes though the shower. “Open that mouth wider and let me in so you can get it good.”
My jaw aches as I do as he says, taking him deep.
Gray grunts, his cock twitching in my mouth. “Yeah. Yeah, like that. Oh, fuck, like that. You like me filling up your mouth?”
I hum, jerk his cock with my hand as I suck him. And he shudders, his voice growing raspy.
“You know how many times I stood in a shower, fucking my hand while pretending it was your hot little mouth, Ivy?”
He pauses as if remembering, a look of raw pleasure parting his lips. Then his hips jerk. “Fuck, honey. Don’t. Don’t stop.”
I couldn’t if I tried. I have a vivid imagination, and I’ve thought of doing this to Gray. A lot. I let myself play, do all the things I’ve wanted for far too long.
All the while, Gray makes gasping, almost pained sounds as he pumps between my lips, the movement restrained, shaking in its intensity. He’s drawing this out, letting me torture him.
It makes me so hot that I close my eyes, pull him in, run my tongue over every inch that I can, show him how much I love this. I’ve done this before, but not like this. Not with Gray, not holding back, savoring every gorgeous inch. And I’ve underestimated how good it would feel to give him pleasure.
Gray. Delicious Gray, whose hard body and hot skin drive me wild. I run my hands up his thighs to cup the taut swells of his ass. God, his ass. It flexes tight with each thrust. I suck harder, faster, and he moans, his body shivering.
Somehow I know he’s close. I can feel all that restrained energy rising up in him, ready to break free. But then he’s out of my mouth, the sound a smacking pop, and he’s hauling me up, pushing me against the wall as his mouth takes mine.
It’s almost frightening the way I lose all sense of myself. There’s only him, his mouth, his warmth. He kisses me there against the tiles, my butt cupped in his big hands. My legs wrap around his waist, and he lifts me as if I weigh nothing. I can’t get over his immense strength and how he never uses it against me but in only service of me. I don’t want to leave this spot. Ever.
Then my attention shifts. To the heat of his cock, and the fact that it’s between my spread legs, the rounded crown at my opening. Gray notices too, and he trembles, shifting his grip a bit.
My breath hitches as just the tip of him sinks in, spreading me. I thought he was big in my mouth. He’s enormous now. All I can think about.
Gray stills, his muscles bunching with effort. “We... Hell... We should stop.”
My eyes snap open. “We should?”
The corner of his mouth curls in a weak smile at the sound of my protest. But he can’t hold that smile.
“Okay, not stop. Move locations. This means something to me. And I want—I should do right by you. Take you to bed.”
I cup his cheek, press the corner of my mouth against his, just breathe the same air as him. “It’s you, Gray. That’s all I need to make it special.”
His skin pebbles, and he nods once. “Get a condom, then?” And then his expression falls. “Fuck. Fuck. I don’t have...” He expels a breath. “I didn’t plan on tonight.”
Half of my attention is on his cock, still there, teasing me, making me feel empty and wanting. “We’re both healthy. I’m on the pill.” I hold his gaze. “Unless there have been others since—”
“No.” It’s almost a shout. He rests his forehead against mine. “Only you. It’s only ever you now, Ivy.”
“Then—” I wiggle, moving against him, making him pant. “Can we...”
He gives me a soft kiss. “Tell me you’re my girl.”
I kiss him back. Soft. Light. “I’m yours. And you’re mine.”
“Fuck yeah, I am.” He smiles as he nuzzles my nose with his. And though I’m so hot, so ready for him, tenderness has my chest aching.
His breath gusts over my lips. “I know you wanted it slow, soft. But...shit, honey, I don’t...I don’t think I can the first time. I’ll try—”
I kiss his lips, quiet him, my thighs gripping tighter, drawing him closer. He shudders around me. I shudder too. It’s been a long time, and he’s big. But the stretch of him feels so good, it highlights that aching emptiness inside of me.
My voice is breathy, impatient. “I don’t need it slow. I just need you. Now.”
He nods, kissing me almost absently. “Okay. Okay. Just...fuck.” He groans, moving in a bit deeper. “Tell me to stop. Any time you want me to stop. I will.”
“Now, Gray.”
“Bossy.” He’s grinning.
“Cupcake.”
“Fucking love when you call me that.” He thrusts upward, and I groan, pushing my body down onto his cock, needing more.
His gaze locks with mine, our lips brushing, tickling with each breath. As if he can’t help himself, he licks into my mouth, tastes me as he pushes again.
“You’re perfect,” he says. “Perfect.”
And then he’s fully in, so deep and solid it throbs. The crinkly hairs at his base rub my clit with each hard pump of his hips. And I’ve died. Because it’s too much. Too good.
“Perfect,” I whisper, holding on tight.
I think I’m going to die. My chest feels like it’s about to crack open, expose my bleeding heart, and leave me wasted on the floor. I’ve never had sex with someone who mattered to me. It’s almost too much to handle. Because this is Ivy.
I’m inside Ivy. Finally inside Ivy. No barriers. Her tight, wet heat clasping my dick so good I have to grit my teeth to keep from shouting.
My fingers sink into her plump, sweet ass, spreading her wider as I thrust. Hard.
Deep. Steady. No more talk. Just Ivy. Having Ivy. Her long legs are wrapped around me, holding on tight. Water rains down on my back, slides over us, makes Ivy’s smooth skin slick, wet. It’s heaven.
Ivy utters a little whimper, like she’s as impatient and needy as I am. She cups my cheeks, finds my mouth. Wet lips, soft tongue. She kisses me as if I’m the best thing she’s ever tasted. And, fuck, it screws with my head. I want to cry, or laugh, or both. I don’t understand it, but I don’t want this to end. It’s agony and perfection all at once.
I angle my head, opening my mouth wider for her, thrust my tongue into her warm mouth. I kiss her until I can’t breathe, until I’m fucking dizzy on her taste.
Ivy makes that hot, feminine whimper again.
It’s too much. I’m losing my mind.
I pump into Ivy. Harder. Harder. I should be gentle. Slow. I can’t. I want to pound myself into her until I’m a part of her. Our lips slide apart, our movements too frantic now for kissing. My face burrows into the crook of her neck, my mouth open on her soft skin.
“Ivy.” I’m saying it over and over, with each thrust.
Ivy, Ivy, Ivy.
I don’t even know why. I want to tell her better things. That she’s everything to me. The best part of me. That I’ll take care of her, protect her—from what, I don’t know. But I will. I’ll keep her safe and happy. Because it’s my job. The most important job I’ll ever have.
But all I can say is her name, fuck her like I’m about to die.
She’s panting now, her slim arms sliding over the wet tiles, as if she’s trying to get away from the pleasure and reach for it all at once. Her thighs clamp down on my waist as she arches her hips into mine. And those sweet-as-fuck tits lift high. I haven’t even gotten a taste of them.
I duck my head, capture a pink nipple, and suck it in deep, lick the stiff little nub, flick it with my tongue. She loves it, her pussy milking my dick as she cups my head and writhes.
Fuck yeah. Heat washes down my back, up my thighs. My balls draw tight, my dick pulsing.
I grind against her, feel her clench as she comes, her cries echoing throughout the shower. And then I’m the one crying out. I don’t even recognize the sounds I make. They’re desperate, loud, and disjointed. I lose sight of Ivy, of myself. It feels so fucking good that, for a moment, I truly wonder if I am going to die. But I won’t, because nothing, nothing, is going to keep me from doing this again. And again.
Because I’m Ivy’s. Forever.