37. JJ Woodford
JJ WOODFORD
I ’m grateful I can spend time with Joel and Cal whilst Finn is at work. They’re nice guys and welcomed me with open arms. We didn’t plan much, a quiet evening on the beach to watch the sunset.
“I’m impressed with Finn,” Joel comments, bringing his beer bottle up to his lips. “I didn’t think he’d be able to keep this job for this long.”
“He clearly needs it,” I comment.
They both hum in response. “Agreed.” Joel nods. “Although there’s no doubt he’ll be getting drunk at the beach fair in a few weeks. Plus, we all heard the news.”
My brows crease. “About what?”
Joel and Cal share a glance. “About Ben.”
“What about him?”
The sound of his name makes my blood boil. I might not know what he did, but I know he hurt Ivy, and I know he’s an asshole that deserves a lot more than just prison time. My phone vibrates in my hand as Cal waffles on.
But I’m not listening because Ivy’s name pops up on the screen. She never texts me.
Something must be wrong.
I press the notification and wait for our messages to pop up. Except, when it does, all the air from my lungs evaporates and I feel like I’ve been winded by a seven-foot rugby player.
Holy fucking shit.
She’s wearing nothing but a matching greeny-blue lace underwear set, her pink silky robe slipping down her shoulder. I let my eyes roam over the image again, and my heartbeat begins to increase in speed rapidly.
Ivy sent me this. Ivy. Sent. Me. This.
“JJ?” Cal says, forcing my eyes away from my phone.
I jump up from the sand and slide my phone in my pocket. “I gotta go.”
“What?”
“I’ll tell you later,” I rush out a quick lie before darting off. “Sorry, I’ll see you guys later.”
Joel laughs and waves. “Alright… bye.”
I take off towards the house as quickly as possible. It doesn’t take long to get from the beach back to their home, which I’m thankful for.
The image has been burned into my mind. But goodness, I want to see it in real life.
I draw my keys from my pocket and hurry to shove them in the door, failing the first time but successfully getting it the second. As soon as I’m inside, I slam the door behind me, scoping the living room and kitchen to find no one here.
My legs race up the stairs as I approach Ivy’s door. I don’t knock, I don’t wait. I can’t physically breathe.
I press my hand to the door and let it creak open. Ivy glances over her shoulder at me, those green eyes bright with surprise. Her hand clutches her robe together in a death grip.
She literally just took the photo. Merely ten minutes ago.
Oh fuck.
My chest heaves as I study her face, those perfect pink lips and precious little freckles. I step into her room, shutting the door behind me with a click. For a moment, I lean on the door, hands behind my back.
Her breathing becomes louder, backing away into the desk as if she’s trying to put as much distance between us as possible. But something crackles in the air, it’s been here since the first night we met.
After a few seconds, I push off the door and stroll towards her with agonisingly slow strides. Ivy studies me, and I flick my gaze down her attire. “Are you purposely trying to kill me?” I ask, my voice a lot deeper than I expected.
“No, I—” She stops talking to lick her bottom lip. “It wasn’t meant for you.”
I quirk a brow, her hands slide against her desk for extra space, but there is nowhere else for her to go. “It wasn’t meant for me?”
Ivy’s chest heaves. “No, it was for—” She cuts herself off. “It was for?—”
I’m inches from her now. She looks so small as I move even closer. “Tell me who it was for, Ivy.” My voice is calm. Still.
She looks up at me from under her lashes and shakes her head, glancing away. I close myself around her, taking her chin between my fingers to tilt her gaze back to mine. When she finally looks at me again, I whisper, “Tell me, who was it for?”
Ivy shivers. My words resting on her parted lips. I glance down at them once and scold myself because now I want to taste them, bite them, suck on them until she’s crying out for me to do more.
My head races with positions I’d love to put her in. Listen to her whimper and beg to be touched. I grind my jaw and tell myself to calm down. I know underneath her tiny gown is that mouthwatering underwear set she was wearing in her picture.
It’s taking every ounce of patience not to rip it off her.
I stroke my thumb across her lip, and she whines at the touch. “Tell me,” I demand.
When she swallows this time, her eyes remain on mine. “ You .”
A deep sense of pride and relief washes over me. “That’s what I thought,” I grunt before pressing my lips to hers in a gentle kiss. It’s not possessive or urgent. I said what I meant in those texts, I’m going to take my time because I want to live every damn second of being with her.
I slide my hand against her cheek as I kiss around her mouth, jaw, and chin. Ivy exhales a low sigh of satisfaction, and the smile that etches its way onto my face is smug. I know exactly who and what she wants.
“JJ—” she whimpers, and I pull back slowly.
Her eyes are dilated. I can barely see the green, all black. All desire.
I groan and slam my lips down onto hers and tilt her head back, pushing her into the desk and slipping my fingers through the back of her hair.
My teeth graze her bottom lip, and she quivers against my chest, her fingers latching onto my forearms as I devour her mouth.
Her tongue is eager against mine, and I grant her what she wants.
As soon as they brush, we moan at the same time.
Holy fuck. I’m not going to last three seconds.
My hands abandon her hair, and I slip them down the softness of her silk robe, over her back, and across her ass. I grip her thighs gently and haul her upwards, her legs clinging to my waist effortlessly.
Ivy’s arms wind around my neck, our chests flush to one another. Her head twists, and I get another delicious taste of her tongue. The passion is enough to tear my head right off, and if I don’t claim her right now, I might die. No exaggeration.
I draw her away from the desk and walk towards her bed, both of our hearts thrashing loudly. I drop her onto the bed softly, pulling my lips away from hers. Her lashes flutter open, and I stand up straight, her champagne locks splayed across her light bedsheets.
I reach down to the knot of her robe in the middle of her stomach and gently tug at the material before Ivy covers my hand with hers. I meet her eyes and the reservation behind them. We both pause until she inhales and removes her hand, giving me silent permission to carry on.
For a few moments, I don’t do anything. I focus on her expression and make sure that she doesn’t make a last-minute decision to change her mind. But something flashes in her eyes—encouragement. So this time, I tug on the material that’s keeping the robe together, and it falls to her sides.
A hiss escapes my lips as I take in her heavenly body. “Ohhh fuck.” I swipe a hand over my mouth to make sure I’m not immediately drooling. My eyes widen at that delicious underwear set against her pale skin.
Ivy stares back at me with uncertainty, and I shake my head, exploring her with my eyes again. Her bra cups her breasts, her thong resting against the tips of her hips. This colour is an absolute dream on her. Perfect.
I lower myself down to the bed and press a kiss to the centre of her stomach. “You are beautiful, Ivy,” I whisper against her skin. “So beautiful. It should be a fucking crime to look this pretty.”
She arches her back away from the bed as I clutch her waist and kiss a little higher. Up and over her chest, neck, shoulders. My eyes latch onto her scar that rests beside her heart, and I press one simple kiss to the centre of it before venturing downwards.
Ivy wriggles against my hold, tiny little whimpers escaping her lips as I reach the hem of her underwear. I smile up at her, back arched and fingers kneading into the duvet. I’ve barely touched her, and I have her in the palm of my hand.
I hook my fingers into the strap of her thong and tug it down her legs smoothly.
Her eyes find mine as she pushes herself up slowly.
I wait, giving her time to tell me to stop, but all she does is nod, and I press a kiss to the centre of her stomach again.
I wrap my arms around her legs and tug her to the bottom of the bed, her ass hanging over the edge, and a yelp falls from her mouth.
A chuckle escapes my own, and I kiss the insides of her thighs. Her skin is soft against my face, and I close my eyes, enjoying the warmth and closeness after all the space I’ve given her.
And now I get her all to myself.
My eyes settle on her glistening pussy. I groan at the sight, desperate for another real taste.
It’s been months. Months too long. Satisfied that she’s wet and ready for me, I lower my mouth to her core and latch my lips around her throbbing clit.
Ivy moans loudly and claws at the bed. The taste of her explodes on my tongue, and my eyes almost roll into the back of my head.
I push her thighs apart, spreading them wide so I can lick and devour her.
My thumbs press into her flesh as her hands find their way over my head, her fingertips grazing the bristles of my buzz cut.
Sometimes I wish I didn’t shave my hair off so she could tug on it as much as she wanted, that would make me rock fucking hard.
My tongue rolls over her clit generously, feeling it grow bigger beneath me. I pull back and give it a little peck. Ivy’s entire body jolts, and I smirk at her sensitivity. I’m living for her. Fuck, I’m living for the taste of her .
I suck on her clit again.
“JJ,” she moans aloud.
Her breathing becomes irregular, and I keep up the pace, tasting her arousal as it pools between her legs. She hums softly, her breath hitching every time I rock over her bundle of nerves.