Chapter 19
Ivy
I grab Wes’s uninjured hand, and pull him into the back hallway that leads to the restrooms.
“You don’t need to, Ivy. I’m okay,” he sighs out, like I’m the one that’s being ridiculous.
I don’t respond, and continue on down the dark hallway.
I push through the swinging wooden door, tugging Wes along with me.
The lighting is just as dim in here as it is in the bar, with a warm glow brightening the room from a few bulbs on the wall.
We both scoot in and I close the door behind us, and flick the lock.
I whirl on him and cross my arms, leveling him with my most menacing glare.
“What was that all about?”
“He touched you. You didn’t want him to. He didn’t listen. What’s confusing?”
I scoff. The fucking audacity of this man. He wants to know what’s confusing? I’ll tell him just how confusing he is.
“What’s confusing?” I ask in a disbelieving tone, then bark out a laugh.
“What’s confusing?” I ask again, a little more growly.
“What’s confusing is that you hire me, even though you don’t want to.
” I start counting his offenses off with my fingers.
“You’re cold and act like you don’t want me around.
Then you apologize and are finally nice to me.
You flirt with me, kiss me, rub your dick all over me, and make me come harder than I ever have in my entire life.
Then fucking ignore me again!” I’m getting louder with every word.
I’ve almost reached screeching territory.
“And then, tonight.” I grip the roots of my hair like I’m going crazy, because he is making me crazy.
“You get me drinks, flirt with me, wink at me, rub my legs, and throw a guy out of the bar for touching me. Literally. I can’t take it!
” I laugh maniacally, then lower my voice, starting to feel drained.
“My heart can’t take it, Wes. You need to decide.
You either want whatever this is,” I gesture wildly between us.
“Between us or you don’t. I’m not sure what it is.
But I know it’s something. And if you don’t want it, then just decide, because I can’t be strung along like this.
So… decide dammit.” I’m panting now, watching as his dark blue eyes scan my face.
He nods. “You’re right. I’m sorry. Really sorry.”
My heart sinks at his tone. He’s going to do it again. He’s going to tell me he can’t because of some valid reason I won’t be able to get mad at him for, and then we’re just back to awkward, walking on eggshells territory.
That’s fine. You know what? I’ll survive. If this isn’t something he’s willing to stick his neck out for, then I can’t fault him. I can’t expect him to do something he’s just not ready for, and I sure as hell am not going to try and convince someone to want me.
He speaks again, and I brace for the rejection. “I decided. Last night, actually.”
I fist my hands down by my side, willing myself not to flinch even the slightest when the blow comes. It’s his fucking loss.
“I want you.”
My eyes widen. “What?”
Am I hearing him right? Am I hallucinating? Am I drunk? No, I only had one and a half drinks.
“I want you. I want you so fucking bad, I can’t think straight.”
“You do?” I ask, and my voice comes out so pathetic, if I weren’t so shocked and elated by his words, I’d slap myself.
“Obsessed with you actually. Yeah,” he admits, gripping the back of his neck.
My heart is pounding in my ears. I feel like if I looked down I’d be able to visibly see my heart beating through my chest.
“But you said...” I start, but he cuts me off.
“I know what I said. And my reasons for trying to keep my distance are still concerns of mine. I have a child, Ivy. Are you ready for that if this gets serious? I’m terrified of getting too close. Of having my daughter get too close, just for it not to workout. I’m terrified.”
My mouth has gone dry.
“But I can’t keep my distance anymore. I can’t resist your pull anymore, Ivy. You have this fucking gravitational force that I cannot for the life of me escape. And I don’t want to. So yeah, I’ve decided. I want you. Whatever this is. Whatever you’re willing to give me, I’ll take it.”
My heart threatens to burst.
“Are you going to change your mind?” I ask quietly, hope filling my chest.
He shakes his head confidently. “No. I’m sorry I was so hot-and-cold. I just…needed time to process it,” he says, sighing through his nose.
“Process what?”
“I knew once I got you, I’d hold on for dear life,” he replies, eyes boring into me.
I let out a ragged exhale, wholly, and completely overwhelmed. He just laid all of his cards, right out on the table. I can at least do the same for him.
“I want you too,” I say with conviction, my fists still clenched at my side.
“Yeah?” His expression softens as he slowly takes one, then two, measured steps before towering over me.
I crane my neck back to meet his eye. “Yeah.”
The air in the room is crackling, like a gun waiting to go off. And after a few breaths, it does.
Wes crashes his mouth down onto mine, and consumes me.
Backing me up against the counter, tongues and teeth collide.
It’s messy, and unrestrained, and perfect.
I grip his shirt and pull him as close to me as possible.
He threads his hands in my hair and tugs at the roots, making me moan unashamedly into his mouth.
The feel of him touching me again is otherworldly.
Welsey groans low in his throat, then picks me up under my thighs and sets me down on the bathroom counter. He runs his big warm palms up my thighs, making me shiver.
“These fucking legs,” he growls.
He continues his exploration, and trails his hands up to my hips, then to my ribcage where he squeezes me roughly.
“This fucking dress.”
He leans down and lightly bites my ear, sending tingles down my spine.
“You know how much I’ve dreamed about this?” he asks, still running his hands all over my abdomen, cupping my breasts, then trailing back down to my upper thighs.
He slides underneath my dress until he finds the hem of my lace thong, toying with it. “Every day since the hotel. Every fucking day, I’ve fucked my hand, and imagined it was your sweet, tight, little pussy.”
Oh my god.
“Wesley. Please,” I beg, pulling him closer and starting to squirm, searching for any sort of relief.
He straightens and looks down at me, eyes flared. “What do you need?” he asks roughly, grabbing the top of my underwear, and pulling the lace fabric up my pussy and against my clit.
“Oh, god,” I groan. “You. I need you. Inside me. Please.”
He hums in satisfaction, then flips my skirt up and grabs my ankles, setting them on the edge of the counter, forcing me to brace my hands behind me. I’m not sure I’ve ever been in a more vulnerable position. But with Wes, it feels good.
“The first time I fuck you is not going to be in a dirty bar bathroom. So, hands or tongue?”
I don’t even have to think. “Tongue.”
“Thank fuck. I’ve been dying for another taste.”
He pulls my underwear down my legs and off my boots, then shoves them in his pocket. He runs the backs of two fingers up and down my slit, spreading my arousal.
“Fucking dripping. This all for me?” His tone is rough and guttural.
“Y-yes.” I gasp when he pinches my clit between two knuckles.
He drops down to his knees, grabs my ass, and yanks it to the very edge of the counter. He throws my legs over his shoulder, and without warning, takes one long lick up my center.
“Holy shit!” I cry out, throwing my head back and pressing it into the mirror at my back.
“So god damn sweet,” he groans.
I feel a finger brush from my clit, down to my entrance, and slowly slide in. He pumps it in and out carefully, then slowly adds a second, curling them just right, hitting the spot that only silicone toys have been able to reach.
My eyes roll into the back of my head as he begins to pump his hand into me at a perfect, constant rhythm, making the most lewd wet sounds echo through the small space.
“Perfect. So fuckin’ tight,” he says from beneath me.
He returns his warm mouth to my pussy while still unrelentingly pumping into me. He sucks my clit, rolling it between his teeth, over and over. Never in my life has anyone ever done something like this to me. Every other man I’ve been with has either not liked it, or been bad at it.
This is an out-of-body experience.
My low and restrained moans are now turning loud, and desperate. I feel the beginnings of my climax light my belly. My core clenches, my stomach muscles tightening, and as if he can sense it, he removes his fingers. I whine at the loss of them.
“Patience,” he chuckles darkly.
He uses both of his thumbs to open me and spits on my clit.
Holy shit, that’s hot.
He rubs the added wetness into me with his thumb, and circles my clit. “Such a pretty pussy,” he croons.
“Please, Wesley. Please,” I moan desperately.
He gently kisses up my inner thighs torturously slow, and the light shadow of scruff on his face scratches deliciously against my skin. He notices my sounds of protest, and I feel him smile against my skin.
He’s still rubbing my clit with his thumb, using the perfect amount of pressure and moving in small, tight circles. The mixture of tenderness and depravity is about to send me over the edge, and he knows it.
Without warning, he finally slides two fingers back in, and curls them inward, pumping and rubbing that spot perfectly. He licks my clit with the flat of his tongue with equal fervor, and I feel the tingling sensation start all the way in my toes.
My toes curl in my boots and I grip his messy hair with one hand as I grind into his face, chasing the friction I need.
He groans in approval, somehow doubling his efforts.
Warmth spreads through every limb, and it feels like my entire body is on fire.
He takes one long suck of my clit, then scrapes it with his teeth a little rougher, and I explode.