Chapter 12
SAXON
The second the salon door shut behind us, Ivy spun to face me.
Her coat flared slightly with the motion, her chin tilted high, and her hands landed on her hips in a posture that would’ve looked defiant if not for the flush painting her cheeks and the faint tremor running through her voice.
The blustery wind caught strands of her hair and made them dance around her face.
She was trying to look furious, but she just came off as adorable.
“You can’t just announce that I’m yours, Saxon,” she huffed, her eyes flashing.
I took a step closer, eliminating the gap between us enough that her breath brushed the front of my chest when she exhaled.
“I can.” I let the words land slow and heavy. “Because you’re mine, sunshine.”
Her jaw dropped a fraction.
“You—” She shook her head, the motion sharp. “You are infuriating sometimes.”
I could see the pulse flutter at the base of her throat and feel the heat radiating off her body even through the cold. There wasn’t an ounce of real anger in her—just flustered energy and the kind of tension that hummed between us whenever I pushed too close.
“Prove me wrong,” I murmured.
Before she could fire back, I caught her mouth with mine.
Her breath hitched, and she melted against me in an instant.
Her hands pressed against my chest, then slid up to curl at the base of my neck.
The taste of her—the faint sweetness of mint and caramel—hit me like an ache I hadn’t realized I’d been starving for.
She sighed into my mouth, her body yielding and soft and so fucking perfect.
When I finally pulled back, her lips were swollen and her brown orbs dazed. A slow grin cut across my face.
“Yeah,” I said roughly. “That’s what I thought.”
It wasn’t a boast. It was a fact, plain and simple.
I brushed my thumb over her slightly puffier lower lip once more before I forced myself to step back. She swayed slightly, catching her balance as I opened the passenger door.
“Get in, sunshine.”
Her glare came back, so weak this time that it was barely there. “You’re bossy.”
“Only when I’m right,” I answered, guiding her in with a hand at the small of her back.
My fingers grazed the curve of her breast when I reached for the seat belt, and the accidental contact sent a sharp, electric jolt up my arm.
She gasped, and my control fractured another inch.
Quickly, but carefully, I buckled her in, then straightened, shutting the door before I did something stupid.
The winter air was sharp and raw as it filled my lungs. I dragged in deep breaths of it anyway. I needed the sting. Needed the cold to burn through the heat crawling under my skin. My pulse was still hammering, and my body was strung tight like wire.
By the time I slid into the driver’s seat, I was barely holding it together.
I pulled out, and as I drove, the silence in the car stretched thick.
The heater whirred, the wind howled, and the headlights cut through the dark as I eased into the traffic on the bridge.
She didn’t look at me or speak, appearing lost in thought.
I could see her reflection in the window—her eyes on the city, looking but not really seeing.
Finally, I heard the warm, husky voice I loved so much. Normally, I basked in the beautiful sound. But tonight, it pummeled the wall of my control, making the crack widen.
“Saxon, I—”
“Don’t,” I snapped, my voice low and rough.
Her head jerked toward me. “Pardon?”
“Don’t talk,” I growled, still watching the road. “Not right now.”
Confusion laced her tone. “Why not?”
“Because if I hear your sultry, sexy voice much longer,” I growled, my control fraying with every word, “I’m gonna lose my shit. And I won’t be able to stop myself from pulling over and fucking you right here in this car.”
Her breath hitched, and my knuckles tightened around the wheel.
“And I’m not doing that,” I went on, forcing the words out evenly. “Our first time’s not gonna be some quick fuck on the side of the road.”
Silence fell again, even heavier than before.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her blush blooming up her neck, staining her cheeks a deep pink. She didn’t argue. Didn’t tease. Didn’t even speak another word. She just folded her hands in her lap and stared out the window, lips parted like she was struggling to breathe evenly.
For a while, the only sounds were the hum of the engine and the steady rhythm of her soft exhales.
The longer we drove, the more her shoulders eased, though she kept stealing quiet glances my way. I didn’t speak. I couldn’t—not yet. Every part of me was strung too tight, wired between restraint and the need to touch her again.
The city loomed over in front of us in a blur of lights.
Then the splashes of yellow were right above us, each streetlamp giving me a clear view of her face for a few seconds.
I drove on autopilot, muscle memory steering us through the late traffic until I turned onto my street lined with glass and concrete.
Ivy was lost in her thoughts, probably trying to decode whatever the hell had just happened between us.
She didn’t notice that I hadn’t taken the usual route to her neighborhood.
When I eased the car into the underground garage beneath my building, she frowned and straightened in her seat. “Where are we?”
“My place.”