Chapter 31
PICTURE THAT
Ivy
In my right hand, I hold up a high-neck, sleeveless halter top in a red sheen fabric. In my left is a flowy V-neck cheetah-print blouse. Both are from thrift shops. “Which one for the meeting with Simone?”
Stefan slices a banana at the kitchen counter and studies both options, then nods to the ruby-red one. “Very stylish,” he says, then grimaces. “I think? Is that the right answer?”
I laugh from the other side of the bench. “You’re the one who wanted to see what I was going to wear.”
“When I said give me a fashion show, I thought I’d get to see you changing,” he says, a teasing spark in his eyes.
“Pervert,” I mutter.
From the tiled kitchen floor, Roxy seconds me with a bark before she returns to watching Stefan, with please-drop-a-slice-of-banana dreams in her doggy eyes. Stefan is wearing lounge pants and nothing else. I’m staring at him, too, but with do me in my eyes.
Hayes, naturally, is sleeping. He does not get up early. Which works for me because Stefan’s become my morning companion. He’s an early riser too.
“I like to think of myself more as an aficionado,” Stefan says, switching to slice up some kale leaves, then adds, “of you.”
This man. I swear he’s some kind of feel-good elixir. It’s Monday morning, and we’re at Hayes’s apartment. The guys fly to Detroit tomorrow, then to Chicago. By now, their teammates know Hayes and I eloped. That’s what we told them, which is all anyone needs to know.
I’m meeting Simone later this morning to discuss wedding coverage, and when I told Stefan I’d wear something that made me look badass, he asked to see it, so I ran downstairs to my place to grab some options.
I set both shirts down on the stool, then adjust my little dress, a cover-up kind of thing. “For what it’s worth, I like the red one too. It makes me feel…strong.”
“You are strong. So it sounds perfect,” he says, then holds my gaze for a beat as he drops bananas and kale into the blender. “Which means it’ll make you feel great when you have to deal with an uncomfortable meeting.”
I’ve been dreading today, and I told both men as much last night. “Thank you. I’ll shower in a bit and then get dressed. Maybe I’ll let you see it then.”
“I’ll finally get my fashion show,” he says.
“If you’re a good boy,” I tease. My phone buzzes on the counter, and I grab it. Oh! It’s another email from Birdie. She already told me she loved my first piece when I turned it in a few days ago. “Your Runway wants another piece. This one is on secondhand fashion.”
“That’s your thing,” he says.
“And that’s her thing. They sponsor the Secondhand Fashion Show in LA every December. It’s a bunch of designers mixing and matching their older pieces in new ways,” I say, and when he asks more about it, I give him all the details.
“Sounds right up your alley,” he says, then surreptitiously, or so he no doubt thinks, offers a slice of banana to Roxy.
She wolfs it down as he covers the blender and blitzes the ingredients for his morning kale smoothie. The machine grinds at top volume, and I shake my head, amused, when he turns it off. “I still don’t get how he can sleep through that,” I say, pointing at the bedroom door.
“It’s his superpower.”
“What’s yours?”
He flicks out his tongue, giving me a salacious onceover.
“I walked right into that one.”
He lifts a hand, brandishing his palm. “You can walk into this one again too, sweetheart.”
I want that as well. But I’ve also been meaning to ask him something. “The first night I stayed at your house. You said it was home enough. What did you mean?”
He sighs as he pours some of his drink into a tumbler. “You noticed that.” He sounds…grateful.
“It was hard not to.”
He’s uncharacteristically quiet for a beat, and while I could say you don’t have to tell me, Stefan’s an adult.
He knows he can opt out if he wants. After he takes a drink of his smoothie and sets it down, he says, “Sometimes I miss home. My brothers and sisters. They’re all settled in Copenhagen.
My parents too. I miss the family gatherings, the big dinners, the bike rides along the water. Just the life I was used to there.”
“That makes sense,” I say.
“But I’ll see them soon enough. They’ll probably come here in December. My parents, I mean.”
“For the holidays?”
He shakes his head. “I’ll go there if I can. They’ll try to be here for The Sports Network awards.”
Ah. He mentioned those the other night, and Hayes teased him. But I can tell it’s important to him to see his folks. Maybe even to make them proud. “You sound excited about that.”
His lips curve in a slight grin, like he’s not quite going to admit his anticipation out loud. “Well, I like them. It’d be nice if they were here.”
“I hope they can make it.” A new worry digs into me. Is he still carrying a flame for Annika? Do I want to ask? But we’re temporary. This is an arrangement, so there’s no harm in asking. “Do you miss your ex?”
I hold my breath, but not for long. “At first, yes,” he answers.
“But then I realized after we split what I missed was the connection to home. The familiarity. She was from the same place as me. She knew the same people.” He seems more clinical than wistful.
“I was missing that more than anything. And then after a while I was missing…someone.”
He locks eyes with me and holds my gaze importantly.
Does he want that with me? A connection with someone?
That’s hard to fathom, given my speckled relationship history, so I sidestep even the possibility.
“Do you want to go home and see your family? I get to see mine when I want, so maybe I take it for granted.”
“Yeah, someday,” he says, then knocks back some more smoothie. “You’d like it there.” There’s no question in his remark. It’s a certainty that I’d enjoy his hometown.
“I would?”
“Yes.” He beckons me with his finger, and I move around the counter and join him.
“Because I’d take you to the river…” He presses a hot kiss to my throat.
“I’d run my hands through your hair. I’d tell you how fucking sexy you are while I slide a hand under your skirt and fuck you with my fingers as the boats go by. ”
My pulse gallops. “Sounds like a good trip,” I say, my skin buzzing with excitement.
“You’d like that,” he says, then takes a quick break to scoop up my dog and bring her to the couch. Couches are her kryptonite, so she curls up in a dog ball. Stefan returns to me and pulls up the hem of my cover-up, inch by inch, revealing pink cotton panties.
“I’d fuck you on a boat,” he says, then runs his thumb along the top of my panties.
I arch into his touch, wriggling against his fingers, asking for more, more, more. “You would?”
“Pull you onto my lap,” he says, then lifts his other hand and cups my breast, squeezing it.
I gasp, then lean my head back, taking all his attention, relishing it.
“Make you straddle my cock,” he muses. “Then I’d cover your mouth and tell you to be quiet while I fucked you by the river, my sweet exhibitionist.”
Heat roars through me. “Show me.” It comes out like a plea.
He spins me around. “You look good bent over the counter, so lift that ass,” he orders, but he helps me along as he tugs down my wet panties. Quick as that, he’s grabbing a condom and undoing his jeans.
When he strokes my wetness, his breath hisses. “Look at you. You get so fucking wet for us. For me,” he says, teasing my clit, stroking my slickness. “Your pussy is fucking perfect.”
I crane my neck to watch the filthy concentration in his eyes. He slides a finger through my wetness, brings it to his mouth. A pulse beats between my thighs as he sucks off my taste.
“Fucking incredible,” he says, then he grabs my chin and kisses me roughly. When he lets go, he smacks my ass. “And I’m going to fuck you to remind you who you are before you go to this meeting.”
My heart rate spikes. “Who am I?”
He pushes down on my lower back and lines his cock up at my entrance. “You’re smart,” he says, then sinks into me.
I groan at the sharp, hot intrusion.
“You’re clever,” he says, sliding out then slamming in.
I grunt as pleasure ripples through me. He slides a hand up my tits, pressing his palm hard against my collarbone but no higher.
“You’re strong,” he says, punctuating the praise with a hard thrust. “And I fucking need you.”
Even though I’m at his mercy, I feel like I have all the power thanks to his grunts, his noises, his feral growls. His bitten off words as he takes me. He’s not just showing me who I am. He’s showing me how much he wants me, and it’s exhilarating.
I drop my head, closing my eyes, giving in to the intensity of his thrusts. He doesn’t let up his grip or his pounding, and I’m close when the bedroom door creaks open.
I jerk my gaze to our guest. Hayes is wearing boxer briefs and stubble. He drags his hand through his bedhead as he watches us. “Don’t stop on my account,” he deadpans, and my breath hitches, my pussy tightening around Stefan as Hayes shamelessly stares at us.
“Why don’t you take a picture? Lasts longer,” Stefan suggests.
A hot burst of pleasure curls inside me, and I moan.
“She likes that idea,” Hayes adds.
“Yes,” I moan.
Stefan whispers in my ear. “You want him to, sweetheart?”
“I do. No face though.”
He turns his gaze to his friend. “You heard her. She’s gonna come soon, so get to it.”
Thirty seconds later, Stefan has yanked down the neckline of my cover-up, exposing my tits. Hayes is mere feet away with his cell phone, snapping pictures of Stefan fucking me harder than I’ve ever been fucked in my life.
Snap. Snap.
I’m up on my toes, my fingers curling around the edge of the counter, my hair a mess. Stefan grabs a breast tight, his other hand snaking between my thighs.
Click. Click.
“So fucking ready to come. Aren’t you?” Stefan hisses in my ear.
“Yes, please yes.”
Hayes gets closer, snaps another shot of my chest. “Your tits. Your beautiful fucking tits,” he rasps out, and then takes picture after picture as exquisite ecstasy rages in my body, storming through me as I detonate.