Chapter 19
Chapter Nineteen
They walked uptown without talking much, heads bowed against the freezing night air.
Ivy’s coat was wrapped snugly around her body, her sky-high boots tapping along the footpath as they hurried into the hotel.
Head over heels. Carly’s words echoed in his head as they rode the lift to the sixth floor and walked purposefully down the hallway to their rooms.
Ivy glanced up and down the hallway before opening her door and pulling Justin inside. Before the door had clicked shut, his back was against the wall and she was untying the belt of her coat.
“Wait,” he breathed, and her hands froze.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong, but if you take that coat off I won’t be able to think straight.”
“Oh, really?” She smiled up at him coyly.
“In that case…” She reached for her lapels, but he caught her wrists and held her still, feeling her pulse flickering under his fingertips.
She was so soft here, and he couldn’t help but press his lips against the plump, smooth skin of one palm.
Her small intake of breath almost undid him, but he forced himself to focus.
He’d made a decision earlier, and he intended to stick to it.
“I mean it. That dress has been tormenting me all night,” he groaned into her wrist. Her eyes drifted closed.
“Watching you walk around that party and not being able to touch you…” He pulled his hands away from her body and shoved them in his coat pockets while he tried to marshal his thoughts into words.
She was so much better with words than he was.
“We’re going home tomorrow,” he started. “And I’m ready to leave New York. It’s fucking freezing and I’ve eaten enough bagels to last me a lifetime. But I was wondering…”
Ivy’s eyes had sprung open, and she was watching him closely in the dim light. He tried to read her thoughts on her face, wishing he didn’t have to put his hopes out in the open like this, where she could stomp her sharp heels all over them and walk away.
“You were wondering?” she prompted, and it sounded like she was holding her breath.
Fuck. Best to put it all on the table. Not push his feelings down like a good old-fashioned country man. If she didn’t want him after tonight, it was better to know that now.
“I want more of this. More of you. If you’ll—if you want that too.
I mean, if you want more of me. Too.” No one was ever going to accuse him of being a professional writer, he thought, kicking himself for not figuring out before this very moment how to tell her what he wanted.
Maybe this was why musicals existed. In a musical, he could have just sung his feelings, and then she’d sing hers, and then they’d dance, and by the final pose this would all be sorted.
Christ. Ivy Page had gotten him to New York.
She’d made sure that nosy journalist didn’t write the hit piece she was clearly hungry for.
And now she’d made him understand musical theater.
Was there anything this woman couldn’t do?
Justin doubted it, but he hoped she’d keep him around long enough to find out. He waited for her to speak.
After what felt like hours, she smiled up at him. “I want more of you.”
Relief swelled in his chest, along with something that felt like excitement blended with longing.
“Yeah?” he breathed, holding her gaze and drinking in the way her smile made her eyes glitter.
“Yeah,” she said, lifting her chin and brushing her lips gently against his. “A lot more.”
The wave of relief and want broke against his ribcage, and his whole body responded to her touch.
Her cheeks were still cold against his palms as he cupped them, and he rubbed one thumb against her chilly skin as he kissed her, letting his lips and tongue say what his stumbling words couldn’t.
She opened for him, and he tasted champagne and the berry-flavored remains of her lipstick.
In that moment, he knew that this was what New York would always taste like to him.
Not like bagels, or any Cuban delicacy. New York tasted like Ivy in his hands, wrapped in her soft, snug coat, taking him into her mouth and promising him more.
She kissed him like she had things to say, too, her tongue meeting his more tentatively than it ever had, as though this kiss was their first, and she wanted to learn his mouth all over again.
As if she’d wanted to ask the same question he did and had been just as scared of the answer.
The thought made something huge and daunting expand under his ribcage, where it pressed against his sternum, urgent and thrilling and impossible to ignore.
Was this what falling for someone felt like?
Did it make you dizzy and elated and desperate for them?
Terrified and reckless, all at the same time?
If this was falling in love, Justin was almost glad he’d never done it before.
He’d never let anyone close enough to make him feel this way.
But Ivy had written her way into his life years ago, and now here he was, wondering if he’d ever be happy with his life without her in it.
The possibility shot through him, shocking him slightly, making his kisses clumsy.
He couldn’t say it aloud, but he pulled her closer, and he slid one hand into her hair and wrapped the other arm around her waist until he was deliciously trapped between her and the wall.
She deepened the kiss, and he moaned quietly against her lips when she resumed untying her coat and shrugged it off her shoulders, never taking her mouth from his.
He had his hands on her bare skin before her coat even hit the ground, tracing the line of her spine with both palms and covering as much of her skin with his as he could.
She arched her back against him, and he felt the muscles shift under his fingers, flexing as she started on the buttons of his coat.
When she pushed it off his shoulders, he moved quickly, taking her by the waist and spinning her lightly around so that her bare back was pressed against his chest. She gasped, and the sound melted into a moan as he dropped his lips to the base of her neck and kissed her there.
His cock stiffened against her as he scattered kisses across her shoulder blades, and grew harder still as he watched her raise trembling hands to steady herself against the wall.
“My god, Ivy, this fucking dress,” he rasped, leaning back to take it all in.
To take her all in. It was better than he’d imagined when he’d walked into the party tonight and seen her leaning against the bar.
So much better. Here, in the flesh, the stretch of pale exposed skin glowed like the moon in the feeble streetlight that filtered into the room.
“What about it?” she whispered coyly, and it was all he could do not to grind his rigid cock against her in retaliation.
Or reward, he didn’t know. He’d said his brain would stop functioning once she took that coat off, and he was right.
All he could think about was that he got to remove this dress—and that tonight wouldn’t be his last chance to take Ivy Page to bed.
Ivy’s breath was thin and ragged, as if she were already naked, but she still had her shoes and tights on.
And the dress. The way Justin looked at her in it, she felt naked.
And the way he was touching her now, tracing his lips down the side of her neck, letting his fingers sweep and dance along her spine, made her want to be naked.
It made her want to let him run his fingers over every inch of her skin, watch him chase his hands with his mouth.
She wanted him to touch her and taste her until she was breathless and needy.
She wanted as much as he would give her—and it seemed he wanted the same from her.
He wanted more. He wanted tomorrow, and next week, and to see where this could go once they were no longer sneaking around this hotel where half the rooms were occupied by their colleagues and bosses.
She wanted that, too. But right now, all she wanted was to get out of this dress.
She arched her back, trying to hurry him, and they both groaned as her ass brushed against his cock.
She felt his intake of breath against her shoulder blades, and one of his hands tightened around her waist. But then his fingertips resumed their teasing exploration of her back, joined by his lips and his tongue.
He grazed his teeth lightly over her traps, and Ivy’s hands tightened into fists against the wall.
If he kept this up, her legs were going to give out before he’d even touched her clit.
She arched her back again, making sure to swivel her hips against his hard-on, and his groan vibrated across her skin before becoming a chuckle.
“I won’t be rushed. You’ve been driving me crazy in this dress all night, and now it’s my turn.
It’s a very nice dress, and I’m going to enjoy it,” he murmured against her ear, his voice tender but taut.
“And if that makes you so wet you can’t think straight, well, that’s just too bad.
I’ve barely been able to put a thought together all night. ”