Chapter 28
Wes
“We almost found one Daddy!” Lilah shouts while slamming her tiny, greasy hand on the dining table.
“Almost found what?” I ask with my fork halfway to my mouth.
“Are you even listening Daddy?” My daughter scoffs. She’s definitely picking up Ivy’s sass.
Yes, but I was a little distracted staring at your nanny’s mouth.
“Yeah, bug. I’m listening. I’m sorry, say it one more time for me,” I tell her seriously.
Lilah takes a deep breath, like I’m testing her patience. “We almost found a dragon egg. Iby said she could sense it,” she says with pure confidence. She has both hands flat on the table and is leaning forward like the news she just shared is world changing.
I quirk my eyebrow and look at Ivy who’s nodding along with my daughter. With a barely contained smirk she says, “I could sense it. It was calling to me. We’ll find it sooner or later, don’t worry.” She nudges Lilah in the side, making her giggle as she stuffs her face with another bite of lasagna.
After Ivy moved in a couple weeks ago, I sat down with Lilah and told her about our new living arrangements.
We told her the truth—that Ivy needed a place to stay, and we had a room.
She was so excited that Ivy was going to be living right down the hall from her, that she asked zero follow up questions, which for her, is rare.
I don’t blame my daughter. If I was going to be right down the hall from her, I’d be ecstatic too. Unfortunately, I’m all the way on the other side of the house.
Tonight we’re having dinner together just like we have every night since she's moved in. Aside from the once a week family dinners at my parents house, I’ve cooked for just the three of us every night.
It's been business as usual after I brought Ivy home for good after the fair.
I leave for work in the mornings, I think about Lilah and Ivy all day, then I come home to them at night.
Most nights, I make dinner while they play in the living room.
Sometimes, Lilah puts on a movie, and Ivy sits at the kitchen island, typing on her laptop while I cook.
Having Ivy with us everyday has been a dream. I can’t get enough of her.
Ivy and I have started playing this game. The second were alone, for even just a second, we sneak a kiss. Sometimes one kiss turns into two. Then two turns into some intense make outs, before distant, tiny footsteps have us wrenching ourselves apart like guilty teenagers.
I look forward to it all day.
It’s pathetic.
She helps me with Lilah’s bedtime routine, even though I tell her it’s not necessary.
When I remind her that living with us doesn’t mean she’s on the clock all the time, she insists it’s not work for her, and she enjoys it.
It makes me fall a little harder every time she says it.
Having someone to do this with, to help take care of Lilah, it’s nice.
Really nice.
After we put Delilah to bed in the evening, Ivy and I spend time together. We talk, we laugh, we kiss, but then I reluctantly walk her to her room, and we go to bed. We’re, for the lack of a better term, dating.
I’m taking it slow. I’m terrified of pushing too hard, too fast. I don’t want to scare her off.
I want her, God, I want her so bad. But I don’t think I can come at this full throttle, not when everything has already moved so fast, and her life has already changed so much in such a short period of time.
Now that she’s under my roof and in my orbit, every instinct in me screams to pull her closer, to latch onto her.
But I want to give her some breathing room, give her time to figure out how she feels.
I know damn well how I feel about her, but I can’t just assume she’s on the same page. My feelings for her, they’re intense, overwhelming, real.
If my feelings for Ivy scare me this much, I can only imagine how much they’d rattle her. So I hold back. Not out of hesitation, but out of hope. This isn’t just about lust, it’s about building something real, something that lasts with her.
I refuse to settle for anything less when it comes to Ivy.
Ivy and I are sitting on either side of Lilah’s bed, and I listen, hypnotized by Ivy's soothing, storytime voice. I rest my head against the wall, looking over to her, and marvel at how unbearably perfect she is. She has a book in one hand, while the other gently rubs Lilah’s back between us.
The night light shines across Ivy’s face, and I study the slight upturn of her nose, and how long and full her lashes are.
I notice how expressive she is, and how much energy she puts into reading to Lilah.
She makes a different voice for each character, and makes weird sound effects when necessary.
I’ve never seen my daughter laugh so hard.
Her long hair falls around her shoulders, and the urge to run my fingers through it strikes me. I lift my hand and reach over the bed, tucking Ivy’s hair behind her ear. She trips over her words, glancing at me out of the corner of her eye with a smile, before returning to the page.
I don’t know how much longer I can take this slow. I want her. I fucking need her.
Ivy’s voice trails off, and I peek over Lilah’s shoulder to see her knocked out cold.
I lean over, and kiss her on the cheek, double checking that Burrito is under the blankets with her.
Meeting Ivy’s gaze, I tilt my head in the direction of the door.
Ivy and I both carefully stand, and tiptoe out of the room, softly shutting the door.
“Shower, then meet you on the couch?” I ask her.
Ivy bites down on her smile and says, “Yes, please.” In that breathy voice that haunts my dreams. It’s impossible to get it out of my head.
Ivy and I go our separate ways and get cleaned up for the night.
I hurry, wanting to get back to her as soon as possible.
I scrub the day off of me, then brush my teeth and change into some sweats.
I forgo the shirt, because they’re just not comfortable, and the vain part of me might like the way Ivy looks at me when I don’t have one on.
When I get out to the living room, I see that Ivy isn’t out here yet. I get some water for myself, and make her some tea, the way I know she likes it. While waiting for her, I clean up the kitchen from dinner, and straighten the living room.
As I’m cleaning up the last of the legos, I sense her before I hear her.
When I look over my shoulder, I see Ivy barefoot and fresh faced, padding over to the couch, where she plops down and snuggles under her favorite blanket.
Her hair is wet, and I can smell her shampoo from here.
The familiar scent fills the space, and I greedily inhale the addictive smell.
I drop down next to her, and she immediately readjusts her position, leaning against the armrest, throwing her legs over my lap, and draping the blanket over us. I turn towards her and grip her legs as I do every night, and begin lightly massaging her from thigh to foot.
While I’m at work, I dream about when it can just be us on this couch in the dim, warm light. Me rubbing her legs and listening to whatever off-the-wall thing she has to say. Her snuggling into me, and scraping her nails down my arm, or through my hair.
After a few minutes of silence and just being with each other, I speak up. “I didn’t know you could sense dragon eggs. Were you born with that ability, or is it more of a honed skill?”
Her shoulders begin to shake, and she covers her face with the blanket. I pull it off of her, and give her an unrestrained smile.
“Alright, you know what? That one really got away from me.” She shakes her head.
“She started asking about dragon eggs, and where they could be found. Somehow that turned into searching for dragon eggs. When she started getting upset about not finding one, I lied through my damn teeth and told her not to give up. Told her I could sense it,” she says, groaning.
“Then she spent the next hour using me as her human dragon egg detector.”
I chuckle and knead my thumbs into the balls of her feet. Her head tilts back and she moans softly.
Fuck.
“You’re really good with her, you know?” I tell her.
She smiles at me, almost sheepishly.
“She really loves you,” I add.
“I really love her too,” Ivy replies. “I know I’m just her nanny, and I've only known her a few months but–“
I cut her off right there. “No. You’re not just the nanny, Ivy. I understand.”
Oh boy, do I understand. If anyone can understand having such strong feelings so quickly, it’s me.
“How’s your writing going?” I ask her, moving the massage up to her calves.
She sighs happily, and a warm feeling fills my chest, and curls low in my stomach.
“Good. Great, actually. I feel like I might be done soon. I’ll still have a bunch of edits to go through, and then I have to decide what I’ll even do with it. But, it’s good. It makes me happy,” she says shyly.
“Good. Maybe I can read some more. I enjoyed it so much last time,” I reply, winking.
As if on instinct, and just because it feels right, I lift her foot from under the blanket and kiss her softly on the inside of her ankle.
She sharply inhales, and I pretend not to notice, holding back my grin, then return to rubbing her like usual.
“How was work for you?”
I try to focus on the question, and not the little sounds she’s making. “It was good… a couple of hiccups, but good,” I say.
I know I should tell her, but I also don’t want her going to jail for stealing an identity, or slashing someone's tires.
“What kind of hiccups?”
“So, Katie came in today,” I start, and I feel Ivy stiffen.
“Oh, yeah? What did she want?” she asks casually, but from what I saw at the fair, Ivy is anything but casual when it comes to other women.
“She requested an appointment with me, and–”
I hear light grumbling coming from my side, and see Ivy’s neutral expression is completely gone.
I huff out a laugh, and tug her closer, wrapping my arm around her. “Easy, baby. Let me finish.”
“Go on,” she mumbles.
“She requested an appointment with me, but I disrespectfully declined, and had a long overdue talk with her about harassment and restraining orders if needed.” Ivy snorts, but I keep going.
“I told her I’m unavailable, but I think the threat of legal action did the trick.
She ran out of there so fast, I didn’t even get to finish going off on her for giving you attitude. ”
Ivy sighs, and shakes her head in amusement. “Oh my god. Poor girl,” she says before snorting again.
“Other than that, I got a lot of work done in the office and had some really cool projects I got to work on,” I finish, tickling her foot.
She pulls her foot back, but I hold fast, tickling her again. She yelps and I shush her playfully.
“Ivy Delilah Bennett, you be quiet or you’ll wake the kid,” I say with mock sternness.
I continue to tickle her, and she writhes on the couch, doing her best to kick me, and laughing into the pillow she threw over her face.
Eventually I have mercy on her, and let her go.
She pulls her feet back and sits up, throwing the pillow at me.
She’s panting with bright pink cheeks, and the sight makes me think of her with that expression, but in a very different scenario.
Before I can stop myself, I grab her around the waist and drag her over to me, depositing her on my lap to straddle me.
Desperate to touch her anyway I can, I rub my palms up and down her bare thighs, moving down to her knees, and all the way up to her hip bones. Still trying to catch her breath, she places her hands on top of mine, as if to stop me, but she doesn’t move them.
She doesn’t say anything, but her hands linger on mine. I don’t waste a second and lightly thread our fingers together. She lets out a long breath through her nose, and studies my face as my eyes bounce between hers.
“Are you ever going to fuck me?” she asks, startling me.
Jesus Christ, this woman.
I don’t hold back my groan, and I let my head fall onto the back of the couch in frustration. Not frustration at her, but at myself. “I’m trying to go slow. I don’t want to push too hard. I want to do this right,” I mutter up to the ceiling, then lift my head to look her in the eye.
“What do you mean?” she asks, her head slightly rearing back.
“You’ve been through a lot of change lately.
The several moves. Us becoming… us. I didn’t want it to be too much for you.
” I comb my fingers through my hair, debating whether or not to put it all out there.
Ivy squeezes my other hand in silent encouragement to go on, so I do.
“Because, I feel too much for you. I don’t want to give you too much too soon, and scare you off. ”
Well, it’s out there now. No going back.
She blinks. “Wesley. I’m a big girl. You don’t need to treat me like glass.
I know what I’ve been through recently. I appreciate the thought of you wanting to go easy on me, but I want the complete opposite.
I mean for god’s sake, you licked my pussy and came down my throat.
I wouldn’t call that going slow.” She snorts, then pokes me in the center of my chest. “And you won’t scare me away.
You couldn’t if you tried,” she tacks on more quietly.
I feel myself blush like a damn teenager, “That was before I moved you in. I practically forced you to live with me because my stupid caveman brain couldn’t handle the alternative,” I reply, trying to explain my reasoning.
She sighs.“Wesley.”
“Yeah?”
“Do you want to fuck me?” she asks, deadpan.
“So fucking bad it hurts,” I grit out, not missing a beat.
“Good. Because I’m tired of fucking myself every night and wishing it was your cock,” she says, no amusement in her tone.
Fuck. Me.
“You’re sure?” I ask.
“Yes, We–”
I don’t even let her finish that thought as I whip the blanket off of us to stand, lifting us both from the couch with ease. She releases a tiny squeal, and wraps her legs around my waist, and holds on tight.
Giggling, she asks, “What the hell are you doing?”
“We’re not doing this on the couch. Cursed, remember?”