23. Ivy Nova
23
IVY NOVA
FELIX
Use Me By The Goo Goo Dolls
“M aggie!” I call out, my breath coming fast as I chase her down the long, dimly lit tunnel. Her blonde hair flutters behind her like a ribbon caught in a wild wind. Her black moto boots slam against the concrete with a steady, defiant rhythm.
“Stop following me!” she yells over her shoulder, her voice bouncing off the tunnel walls. The raw edge in her tone cuts sharp, but I can’t stop—not now. Who knew someone with legs so short could outpace me so easily?
“Where are you going?” I call out.
“Away from you,” she barks.
“You’re still pissed about the other day?”
“Oh, fuck off, the world doesn’t revolve around you,” she says, continuing to stalk away.
“Maggie, dammit!” I push harder, chasing after a pissed off woman through the city of buses and trailers in the late summer night. This is ridiculous. Are we that couple now? The thought twists my stomach, but I can’t let her bolt on me—not like this.
I manage to catch up and grab hold of her camera strap, bringing her to an abrupt stop. She spins around so quickly that her hair whips against my hand, her fiery gaze locking onto mine.
We stand toe to toe, both panting, and for a moment, the air between us trembles with all the things she’s not saying. Her jaw sets tightly, the muscles ticking beneath the flush of her skin as she digs her heels into this silence. That’s Maggie for you—words come spilling out when she’s being playful, but when it comes to this, to us, she hides them behind an ironclad wall.
“Just leave me alone.”
“Is that what you really want?” I demand, pressing her with every ounce of frustration lodged in my chest. “Look I’m sorry if I dismissed you…”
She shakes me off. “You should go back to Ivy, I’m sure she misses you.”
Now I see the cracks, the vulnerable edges she’s trying so hard to conceal. I clench my jaw so tightly it aches. “All of this is over Ivy?”
Her fury boils over. “Fuck off, Felix!” she shouts loud enough to draw the attention of some crew nearby, her voice cutting through the stillness like a blade. When she spins to storm away again, I grab her by the waist—not rough, but enough to keep her here with me.
“Oh, no you don’t.” My voice is low, almost pleading. “Unless you want a damn audience for this…” I motion to the people nearby. “Come on,” I add, softer this time. “Let’s talk somewhere private.”
She hesitates, her body going still under my hand even though her breaths are still sharp and shallow. Then, after what feels like forever, she relents, though not without the angry flick of her hair. She walks toward my trailer in reluctant, stomping strides like a child dragged to timeout. I follow her into the trailer, tension vibrating between us like a taut string.
Inside, the air feels heavier. She crosses her arms over her chest, nails digging into her skin as if holding herself together is the only thing keeping her from snapping completely.
“What is going on, Maggie?” My voice comes out rough, raw from the performance I just gave onstage and the flood of emotions surging through me now.
“Nothing. It doesn’t matter,” she bites back, but her words are brittle, fragile.
“It matters to me!” I step closer, yanking her camera bag strap off her shoulder. Her eyes narrow, but she lets me do it. “Talk to me, Maggie. I deserve to know what the hell’s going on.”
“I saw the way the two of you were looking at each other out there,” she accuses, gesturing broadly toward the door, her voice shaking with emotion she can barely contain. “Ivy’s probably waiting backstage for you to fuck her.”
My brain feels like it short-circuits for a second. “Jesus, Maggie. Seriously? That was for the goddamn performance, and you know it.” I gesture to the camera bag I’d just pulled off her shoulder. “Shock value, visuals… hell, it’s what you do every night with your camera!”
“I knew this was a bad idea from the beginning,” she says.
“You’re jealous.”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Maggie barks, her voice sharp as steel, but her cheeks flush a deeper shade.
I arch an eyebrow. “But you’re acting like it.”
Her indignation flares like an ember carried on the wind. “Fine!” she finally snaps, her voice rising. “If being jealous means I’m upset because a latex-clad pop princess was wrapped around you like duct tape, then fine. Call it what you want, Felix.” She crosses her arms over her chest and juts out her hip.
My lips twitch, almost against my will. Her fire is relentless, untamed, and goddamn, it’s sexy. But there’s a crackle of vulnerability underneath that bravado, and I’m not callous enough to ignore it. “You’re the one who said this was just fun.”
The fall in her expression guts me. A girl like Maggie doesn’t crumble—not for anything or anyone. But now, her fiery facade falters. For a moment, I almost let it go, but the frustration eating me alive pushes me to keep going.
“I can’t keep doing this,” I admit, raking my hands through my hair, gripping the roots like they might help steady my thoughts. “You’re driving me fucking crazy, Maggie. You tease me, push me, the whole time knowing damn well I’m addicted to you. I let you call the shots, give you the space you think you need, but meanwhile, I’m left not knowing where the hell I stand with you. You can’t have it both ways.”
Her breath hitches, her arms falling limply to her sides. The defiant lines around her mouth soften, and there’s something new in her eyes—an intensity, but softer, rawer, harder to decipher.
I don’t want to be the reason that look is on her face but tonight I think I’ve reached my breaking point and something’s got to give.
“What do you want from me?” she asks, frustration flaring in her eyes.
I cradle her face in my hands. “Tell me what you want.”
She holds her arms up like she’s about to step on her soap box but then drops them. Her lips press together as she paces a couple times. It’s the first time I’ve seen her at a loss for words and it’s gutting me. But I need her to break, even if it’s just a little. I’ve been breaking all this time and I don’t think I can break anymore if she doesn’t give me something to be doing it for.
Finally, she breathes out the words I need: “I want you to be with me.”
Every wall I’ve been holding up crashes at that moment. “Maggie… you already have me. All of me.”
She grabs onto my wrists, rubbing her thumbs against the back of my hands.
“I want to be the only one you want and the only one you think about.” She pulls in her bottom lip, and the sight does something to me—makes my chest tighten and my pulse pick up, like I’m standing at the edge of something big and dangerous. She doesn’t look away, though. She never does. Maggie’s more stubborn than she’ll admit, braver than she realizes. Her blue eyes, sharp and unrelenting, hold mine hostage.
I don’t know how she can doubt this—doubt us—but I can see the flicker of uncertainty there. That flicker pulls at me, demands I snuff it out.
“You are the only one I think about, Maggie.” I shake my head, the words leaving me before I realize I’m saying them. “You fill every corner of my mind. You’re the first thing I think about when I wake up, and the last face I see before I fall asleep. Hell, you’re in my dreams, too.” I can’t help but let out a breathless laugh that sounds almost incredulous. “I don’t want to be with anyone but you,” I say.
I press my forehead against hers, the soft cascade of her hair brushing against my temple. “And neither can you,” I add, my lips grazing her skin. My heart punches against my ribcage with a dizzying rhythm. Her eyes, wide and brimming with something that looks like defiance but feels softer, dart between mine as if she’s searching for cracks in my resolve. I don’t budge. She won’t find any. Not now. Not with her.
“I know,” she finally whispers, her voice barely audible. Relief floods my chest in a tidal wave, but it lasts only a second because suddenly, Maggie moves—swift and completely unpredictable.
She lunges at me with a heat and urgency I don’t expect but instantly welcome, the force causing me to stumble backward toward the bed.
As Maggie’s fingers dance over the buttons of my vest, I feel the urgency in her touch. I shrug out of it, letting it fall to the floor, my eyes locked onto hers. She pushes me further down onto the bed, her hair cascading around her like a waterfall of silk. I thread my hands into it, feeling the soft strands between my fingers as she wrestles with the button on my slacks. Lifting my hips, I help her work them down, my cock springing free, eager for her touch.
She grabs hold of the base, her fingers cool against my heated skin. As she takes me in her mouth, I lean back on my elbows, watching her with a desire that’s almost dizzying. The sight of her lips around me, the feel of her tongue swiping against my shaft, threatens to undo me. “God yes, baby,” I say through clenched teeth, my head dropping back as a groan escapes. “So fucking good.” I reach down, stroking the side of her cheek with my thumb. Her eyes flick up to mine, and the intensity in them sends a jolt of electricity through me. If she keeps doing that, I won’t be able to stop myself from fucking into her mouth.
She teases and tests my resolve with every swipe of her tongue and that pretty mouth wrapped around my cock.
She leans back to slip her dress over her head. I rise, drawn to her, and with a deft touch, I unclasp her bra, letting it glide down her shoulders. Her breasts are exquisite, molded to fit my hands as if sculpted just for me. My fingers trace a path down her stomach, and I feel her quiver beneath my touch as I gently ease her lace panties away.
I reach for a condom, but Maggie stops me, her hand gently resting on mine. She looks into my eyes, her expression soft yet filled with desire. “Felix,” she whispers, “I want to feel you, all of you. I’m on the pill, and I haven’t been with anyone else. I trust you.”
Her words are whispers of electricity, tracing a shiver down my spine. “Only with you,” I say because I understand the need to feel all of her. A sigh of pleasure escapes me as she lowers herself onto my length, her movements slow but deliberate. The sensation of being inside her, bare and unguarded, is indescribably intimate. I grip her hips, my fingers kneading her flesh, showing her the depth of my feelings. Every movement, every touch, is amplified, drawing us closer, deepening our connection.
She leans down, crashing her lips to mine, and I cup her cheek, holding her close. “That’s it, baby,” I whisper against her mouth, barely able to get the words out as she rides me. “Take what’s yours.” She moans her response, her hair tickling my chest. I let out a throaty groan when she breaks the kiss, venturing across my jaw to my neck where I feel her teeth and tongue nipping at my skin. “Fuck,” I growl, as she rides me harder and I frame her face in my hands, tilting her head so I can give her the same treatment.
I lean her back so I can take her nipple between my teeth, kneading her breasts. “Oh God,” she moans, and I feel her grip me tighter, her body tightening, eyes closed and mouth slack. I know she’s close.
“Come on it, claim it,” I order breathlessly. Her body shudders as my words push her over the edge. I let her ride out the intense waves of her climax on top of me, feeling her clench and quiver, gripping my cock. The sensation is too much to bear. She’s fucking beautiful when she lets go. I grasp her knees and flip us over, positioning myself above her. It’s my turn now to take what I want.
“This pussy,” I thrust into her hard. “This pussy is mine, Maggie.” I’m deep inside her, cradled between her thighs as I roll my hips. She claws at my back, her fingernails dragging over my skin in the most painfully delicious way. I drive in deeper, wanting her to feel every inch of me.
She pushes her fingers through my hair, gently pulling as I take her nipple between my teeth. She tilts her head to the side, her mouth opening, a soft moan escaping. The sensation of her soft skin against my lips, the way her body responds to my touch, it’s all too much. I can feel the heat building inside me, my heart pounding as I lose myself in her.
“Maggie,” I whisper, taking hold of her hand, threading my fingers through hers. She lifts her head enough to kiss me, the taste of her lip gloss lingering. Her kiss is slow and deep, saying more than words ever could. As our lips part, I gaze into her eyes, seeing my own desire reflected back at me. At this moment, nothing else matters. It’s just her and I, lost in a world of our own making.
I smooth down her hair, running my hand over her cheek. She shifts onto her side to look at me, and I draw her leg over my hip, not wanting to leave this bed but knowing at some point we need to. She runs her finger down my cheek and across my jaw, as if she’s trying to memorize every line and rough edge.
“Don’t you need to make an appearance at the after-party?” she asks, her voice soft but without judgment or pretense.
I place my hand over hers. “I’m right where I want to be.” Right now, it’s just Maggie and me, lost in each other, the world outside our door a distant echo.