Chapter 32
Wes
Maverick: Good morning, my dear siblings. Was everyone aware that Dad caught Ivy falling out of Wes’s window this morning?
Lincoln: Why was she falling out of a window? Wes, you know you have a one story house right? If you were trying to off the babysitter, that’s not the way to go.
Sophie: I did hear about that, but from Ivy. She wasn’t being attempted murdered Linc, she was doing a walk of shame. They haven’t told Lilah, so Ivy was trying to sneak out the morning after.
Maverick: Why haven’t you told Lilah, Wes?
Sophie: He’s not telling Lilah until he’s sure about him and Ivy.
Maverick: How the hell are you not sure about Ivy?
Lincoln: Yeah, answer that.
Wes: She’s not just the fucking babysitter you dick.
Lincoln: That’s the only thing you got from that?
Wes: Of course I’m sure about Ivy.
Maverick: Then what’s the hold up?
I stare down at Maverick’s text. What is the hold up? I’m absolutely sure about Ivy, so why hide it?
Because you’re still scared.
I mean, she’s not wrong, or I’m not wrong? I’m still not sure when my subconscious became Sarah’s voice, but it still freaks me out.
Of course I’m sure about Ivy. I’m fucking obsessed with the girl. I love everything about her.
Love.
Do I love Ivy? Of course I fucking love Ivy. How can I not? She forces you to love her. She gives you no other alternatives. Am I going to tell her? Hell no.
It’s way too soon for that. I told her I didn’t want to push too hard and I meant it. Even though I know I can’t go slow with her anymore, I don’t think I should drop this bomb just yet.
I really only have one shot at this. If it didn’t work out with Ivy, there’s no way in hell I’d ever try again. Maybe that’s why I hesitate. Because I know it’s her or nothing, and it’s fucking paralyzing to think about.
Last night was a dream. The best, most intense sex of my entire life.
I can’t even fathom that I get to do that with her again.
The day has gone by so slow, and I know it’s because I’m so anxious to get home.
I’ll be forever thankful to my sister, who recommended her “teacher friend” as a nanny.
Little did I know, she’d come in and flip my entire world upside down.
I shake the thoughts from my head so I don’t get hard at work. I’m sitting in my office when I get an email from the shop in Texas I did a guest spot for. I scan over it twice, then lean back in my desk chair, running a palm over my jaw, scratching the stubble.
They want me, and an artist of my choice to guest spot again, but at their New York location. In theory it sounds fantastic, but there’s a lot more I need to figure out before I accept. I need to make sure Ivy is willing to come with Delilah again.
I’m sure Ivy would be happy to do it, but the potential issue I see is Delilah not wanting to go.
After we went to Texas for three days, I never heard the end of how much she didn’t like sleeping in a bed that wasn’t her own.
I’ve taken her out of town with me before, but not for three days.
My girl gets homesick, so I’m not going to force her to go anywhere she doesn’t want to go.
I’m thinking about all the opportunities that could come from this offer, and if I could leave Lilah for the whole week they’re asking for, when I get a knock on the office door.
“Yeah,” I call out in answer, and the door swings open revealing Leo, the calming buzz of the tattoo guns, filling the room immediately.
“Hey, boss,” Leo says, leaning on the door knob. “There’s a chick up front looking for you. She’s uhh...”
I quirk an eyebrow, waiting.
“Hot. She’s hot.”
I roll my eyes, and slide my desk chair back. Leo always hits on all of my clients, man or woman. I don’t have any appointments until later, so I’m not sure who it could be.
“You think everyone is hot,” I mumble.
I step around him and make my way past the neon Canyon Tattoo sign, to the front of the shop. I stop dead in my tracks when I see Ivy standing at the front desk, talking to Jacob.
I quicken my steps, and when Ivy sees me, she turns and gives me her full-toothed grin.
“Hi, what’s wrong? Is Lilah here?” I ask, and glance around.
“Oh my god, no. Sorry! She’s fine. Your mom asked to take her to a movie, I figured it was okay. I should’ve told you.” She covers her eyes with her hands, and shakes her head.
I exhale, feeling relieved, which quickly turns into excitement that Ivy’s here. In my shop. For me. At least I think she is.
“Of course it’s okay. What’re you doing here?” I ask, my tone softer now.
Ivy gives me a sheepish smile. “Got any time for a tattoo?” she asks hesitantly.
I rear my head back in surprise, and she cuts in before I can even respond. “It doesn’t have to be you. Anyone available is fine,” she rushes out, chuckling awkwardly.
“I’m available,” Leo calls out, and Ivy nods, looking over my shoulder presumably at the shameless flirt, smiling.
“No one is touching you but me,” I say loud enough for everyone in the shop to hear, and glance over my shoulder to quickly glare at Leo, before turning back to Ivy and continuing.
“I absolutely have time for you. Always. I just wasn’t expecting you, or for you to ask for a tattoo.
” I laugh, grabbing her hand and rubbing my thumb over her knuckles.
“I know. I’m sorry. I’ve been wanting something small for a while, and I just thought, why not today?” She nibbles on the corner of her mouth, and I nod.
I’m so excited she’s here, I feel like a teenager who’s crush just walked by him in the hall.
I feel giddy, and that’s fucking lame, but I don’t care.
I take a step toward her, and cup her head in my hands.
She sucks in a sharp breath, and I smirk just before I lean down, and press a soft kiss to her lips.
“Ohhh, okay. Got it,” I hear Leo call out.
Idiot.
I pull back and grab her hand again, intertwining our fingers. I pull Ivy behind me, and back to the office where I shut and lock the door behind me. Those nosey fuckers will probably try and bug me for unnecessary shit just to see or talk to Ivy.
I pull her around my desk, and drop into my chair, bringing her with me. I grab her around the waist, and hoist her up to sit on my desk in front of me. I drag my hands up and down her bare thighs and thank whatever god there is, that she wore this tiny little sundress.
“Hi, baby,” she whispers, then runs her hand through my hair.
Fucking hell.
I don’t know what it is about her calling me that, but it makes my heart hurt, and my dick hard. I hum in response, and close my eyes, leaning into the touch.
“Hi,” I reply.
“Are you sure you don’t mind me dropping by unannounced? I almost didn’t, but I thought it wouldn’t hurt to check if you were busy.”
I shake my head. “I’m never too busy for you. I’m so happy you came by,” I say as I continue to rub her thighs, going higher now. I’m unable to stop myself, she’s so fucking soft.
“What are you thinking for your first tattoo?” I ask, grinning.
“I was thinking… my parents birth flowers. You gave me the idea, when you told me the poppy on your hand is for Delilah, and I want that for them too. Maybe here,” she says as she points to the inside of her forearm.
I nod. “I like it. That’s a great first tattoo. It’s special.” I tuck her hair behind her ear, and she bites her lip.
“How much?”
“How much, what?” I ask, confused.
“How much would that cost?”
I give her the most get real look I can manage. “I’d pay you to let me tattoo you.”
“I’m serious, Wesley,” she replies and swats at me playfully. “Tell me how much.”
“I’m serious Ivy. You’re not paying anything. I’d pay you. I’ll give you whatever you want to let me be the only one to touch you,” I respond, my voice dropping lower.
“Oh, really?” she asks, clearly picking up on my mood shift.
I can see her eyes flare, and her thighs squeeze together.
“Yes, really. Tell me what you want and it’s yours.” I’d give her literally anything she asked for, and it’d be impossible to deny her.
“Your mouth,” she breathes out.
“Where?” I ask eagerly, not even letting a second pass after she speaks.
“My pussy,” she says confidently.
“Fuck yes,” I reply.
I flip her skirt up, and slide her panties down her legs so fast, her sandals fall off with the movement.
Sliding her off the desk, I quickly spin her around, and she yelps in surprise.
“You want to stop, just say stop,” I say to her back, waiting for her response.
“I’ll say stop if I want you to stop,” she replies, her tone uneven.
I stand, wrapping my hand around the nape of her neck and pushing her down until her stomach is flat on the desk.
The bottom of her bare ass peeks out from beneath the fabric of her short yellow dress, teasing me.
I flip the fabric up to her waist, and practically drool at the sight of her perfect, round ass.
“I said my pussy,” she quips with a breathy voice.
I land a single slap to one of her ass cheeks, and she squeals, attempting to push off the desk. I grip the back of her neck again, and gently guide her back down.
“I heard what you said,” I reply. “Stay down.”
With her cheek pressed to the desk, her soft pants fog the smooth acrylic surface. She looks up at me out of the corner of her eye, and bites her lip. I run my hands up her ass, squeezing roughly. She moans softly, and tries to push her ass back into my touch for more.
“So responsive,” I say thickly.
I continue running my hands up to her torso, then to her shoulders, and all the way down her arms. When I get to her hands, I grab them, and guide them to the opposite edge of the desk.
“Hold on,” I rasp, folding her fingers over the lip of the desk. Her knuckles turn white from the force of her grip. “Good girl,” I murmur into her ear, and she shivers.
I kick my chair back, and drop to my knees. Palming both of her ass cheeks, I gently pull them apart, revealing her soaking wet cunt.
“Oh, baby. You’re already dripping for me,” I say quietly, but not softly.