Chapter 36
Chapter Thirty-Six
Poppy
Ivan stalked behind me.
Something had changed in the time we left the penthouse this morning and got back now. His breaths were heavier, his gaze more intense—as if that were even possible—and the set of his mouth… it looked more enticing than it had ever looked before.
Though I’d never tried yoga before, I found that I absolutely loved hot yoga after one session.
I loved how it made my body feel, how loose my muscles were, how grounded and warm I felt afterward. I loved how it worked me and stretched me in ways I’d never been before.
But most importantly…
I loved the way it turned Ivan into some kind of caged animal.
Every inhale from him was sharp, like it cost him something.
Every exhale shook a little, as if keeping himself in check required full-body effort.
He was walking behind me like a shadow on a leash that wanted—desperately—to slip free.
I slowed just a touch to swipe my towel over my chest.
His breath hitched.
Oh.
Oh, this was fun.
I’d barely set my water bottle on the counter when I felt him.
He pressed his chest against my back and pinned me to the counter.
His hands ghosted over the front of my waist, fingertips barely brushing the skin just under the band of my sports bra, and I felt every trace of resistance in my body shatter like glass.
Heat rushed straight to my center.
“Poppy,” he murmured against the shell of my ear, breathless. “You can’t… you can’t do that to me.”
I swallowed hard. “Do what?” Silent treatment was officially forgotten. I didn’t know if I was still angry or if I was wound so tightly by his eyes on me that it didn’t matter.
His fingers slid a fraction lower—still not touching, just hovering, trembling like he wanted to grab me and hold back at the same time.
“Walk around like that,” he rasped. “Bend like that. Sweat like that. Look at me like that.”
I let out a shaky breath, my hands gripping the counter for balance. “I wasn’t looking at you.”
“Liar,” his whisper brushed the side of my neck, and I fought back the urge to moan.
His lips brushed the back of my shoulder—not a kiss, just the whisper of one.
But it stole the ground out from under me.
“You know exactly what you were doing.” His nose skimmed my damp skin—sending a violent shiver down my spine. “And you know exactly what it does to me.”
My voice came out thin and frayed at the edges. “Do I?”
His hands slid to my hips—firm now, no more hovering—and he turned me in his arms with a slow pivot that felt like it took a century.
“Yeah,” he said, his voice a low growl. “You do.”
His thumb brushed once against my hipbone—a tiny touch, but it set off more heat through my entire body.
Hot yoga had nothing on what Ivan Cristof was doing to me, and he hadn’t even kissed me yet.
His hand moved up beside my face as his eyes watched my lips; I couldn’t stand it anymore.
I pressed up on my tippy toes and crushed my mouth to his.
Waiting be damned. He told me he wasn’t a hero. I didn’t want one. I wanted him to break free from whatever leash that was holding him so tightly. I wanted him to want me. I’d never wanted anything so badly. Everything else could be figured out later.
The second my lips touched his, everything broke.
He grabbed my waist and hauled me into him with a sound that vibrated straight through my bones—a low, guttural growl ripped from somewhere deep inside his chest. His other hand slid up the back of my neck, threading into my damp hair, holding me exactly where he wanted me as he devoured my mouth like he’d been starving for it.
Heat shot through every nerve ending in my body. His mouth was hot and demanding, his breath ragged against my lips as he backed me into the counter with a controlled force that made my knees buckle.
“Poppy,” he groaned against my mouth, as if the words were torn out of him. “You can’t… fuck—”
He kissed me again, harder this time, deeper, like the dam inside him had ruptured and there was no stopping the flood.
His thumb stroked the side of my throat, and his hand at my waist tightened possessively, dragging me flush against the hard line of his body.
I gasped into his mouth, and he swallowed the sound.
Butterflies erupted so hard within me, I feared I would take flight.
I feared that all of this would be whisked away in a few seconds, and it would be nothing but a dream because nothing had ever felt like this.
No kiss had ever set me off the edge and right into the direction of an orgasm this quickly.
For fucks sake, he hadn’t even touched me in the most intimate of places, but I was ready to dive right over the edge.
“I dream about doing this daily. About pinning you up against different surfaces in this house. How your body would feel wrapped around mine as you scream my name. How different things would be this time.”
“Don’t tempt me, Ivan,” I used his words against him, and he chuckled. It did nothing but fuel the inferno raging within me.
“Don’t tempt you?” he murmured against my mouth, his breath hot and uneven. “Sweetheart… you’ve been tempting me since the moment I met you.”
His hands slid down my sides, slow enough to feel every ridge of muscle in his palms, every ounce of restraint straining through his fingertips. He gripped my hips and lifted—just slightly—pressing me harder against the counter, fitting me perfectly against the hard line of him.
I sucked in a sharp breath, and he groaned as his head tipped back.
“Careful,” he said, voice rough enough to scrape. “I’m already hanging on by a fucking thread.”
“Good,” I whispered, dragging my nails up the back of his neck. “Let it snap.”
His forehead hit mine, eyes squeezed shut like he was in actual pain.
“Poppy…” My name was a desperate plea— what seemed to be a losing battle.
His thumb brushed under the band of my sports bra, skimming the edge of my breast, just enough to make my whole body jerk.
“Look at you,” he said hoarsely. “This fucking yoga outfit—your skin… the way you smell right now—” His nostrils flared as he dragged his nose along my jaw, inhaling like I was oxygen. “You’re driving me insane.”
My legs trembled. “Then touch me.”
He froze, and I watched as he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, considering what I commanded.
“I’ve never needed anything more,” I whispered and tried to wiggle closer to him— as if I could.
The sound of the elevator ding sliced through the moment like a knife.
Ivan jerked back as if he’d been burned—hands leaving my waist so abruptly that cold rushed in where heat had been. His chest rose and fell hard, shoulders tense, and jaw clenched in a way that made the muscle tick.
I stayed pressed against the counter, breath trembling out of me, my body still humming with everything he’d almost done. Everything I’d begged him to do.
He wouldn’t look at me at first.
He dragged a hand down his face, exhaling slowly through his nose like he was trying to force the animal back into its cage.
Footsteps echoed across the foyer, and Don’s voice filtered through the silence. “Jane—”
He stopped dead when he saw us. Ivan was brooding, still entirely too close to me, and I was sweaty, breathless, and in micro gym shorts.
Don’s brows shot up, but he schooled his expression almost immediately. “Ah. Well.” He cleared his throat. “Um.”
“Jane?” I managed to squeak.
“Right,” he cleared his throat again. He knew exactly what he’d interrupted. “She wants to try out for the cheer team this evening.” He scratched the side of his neck before rubbing the same hand down his face. “She’s taking a shower, and then I’m going to bring her.”
“That’s wonderful!” I didn’t even know she liked cheer or that she wanted to do that; I was so wrapped up in my own world.
Don chuckled nervously. “I’ll just, uh, wait in the car then and pretend I didn’t see anything.”
“Nothing happened,” Ivan said, his voice ragged enough to give him away instantly.
Don’s gaze flicked between us again, landing on my swollen lips and my still-shaking hands gripping the counter.
“Sure,” Don said slowly. “Absolutely nothing.”
Ivan shot him a look that could’ve killed a grown man. Don lifted both hands in surrender and backed away. “Right. I’m gone. Enjoy… doing absolutely nothing.”
The elevator dinged again as he left, and the sound was almost mocking.
Silence flooded the apartment.
Ivan still stood a few feet away, chest heaving and hands clenched at his sides. He looked ruined and wild. Like he was one breath away from coming back to me or one breath away from locking himself away.
“I need a shower,” he raked his fingers through his hair and nodded to himself. “Yes, a shower would be good.”
I smiled mischievously. “I think a shower sounds like a great idea.”
A tortured gaze met mine. “I meant alone.”
My chest deflated but only slightly. My grin curled into a smirk. “That’s okay, I have more than enough toys to keep me company.”