"Bed. Now." The words come out strained.
"Only if you're coming with me."
"Tosleep," I groan, though every cell in my body's screaming otherwise. "You're drunk."
"So are you." She tilts her head back against my shoulder, exposing the curve of her neck. "And you're usually much more fun when you're drunk."
I guide her up the stairs, fighting every primal instinct her body ignites in me. "When did you become the bad influence?"
"I think I like it better on this side of trouble." She turns in my arms, almost stumbling down the steps. Her fingers curl into my shirt. "Think you can give me a taste of everything I've been missing?"
"Trust me," I mutter, tightening my grip on her waist, "when I do that, I want you to remember every second of it."
The moment we're inour room, Ivy stumbles toward the bed, and every instinct in me screams to follow. To press her into that mattress until she forgets anyone else ever existed but me.
She faceplants onto the bed while I shut the curtains. "Everything's spinning."
"That's what happens when . . ." The words evaporate as she starts wrestling with her robe, the silk sliding off one shoulder to reveal milky skin. "Fuck, Ivy, don't—"
"S'hot in here," she mumbles into the mattress, then starts wiggling like a drunk caterpillar trying to escape its cocoon. "Help? I'm stuck."
I keep my eyes firmly on the ceiling. "You're not stuck, you're just—" A soft thud follows. "Did you fall off the bed?"
"No." A pause, filled with drunk dignity. "Maybe." Her giggle hits me low and deep. "But the floor's really comfy."
When I glance down, she's sprawled on the plush carpet, dress rucked up to reveal an endless expanse of creamy thigh.Blood rushes in my ears as certain parts of my anatomy remind me exactly how long it's been since I've had sex with anyone.
"Ivy—"
"Oh! I need my skincare routine." She stretches onto her back, eyes locking on mine and knocking the air straight out of my lungs. The position puts her on display like an offering I'm not holy enough to resist.
"Let's get you back on the bed." My voice breaks as I reach for her, and the moment my fingers graze bare skin, electricity shoots straight to my groin.
Bad idea. Terrible fucking idea.
"Mmm, getting me into bed already?" She peers up through her lashes, then hiccups.
"For fuck's sake." I haul her up, keeping my hands strictly PG-rated even as she melts against me. "You're testing every ounce of self-control I have."
"Good. I want you to snap." She flops onto the bed. "I need to change." By the time it sinks in, Ivy's already stripping out of her clothes.
"Shit!" I whip around, but not before my brain catalogs every inch of navy lace that'll fuel my fantasies for the next decade. "Ivy!"
"What?" She sounds genuinely confused. "It's just underwear."
"Don't you dare—"
Something soft smacks against my shoulder, then falls to the floor with a soft thump. When I glance down, there's her bra, lying discarded like the world's sexiest landmine, waiting to detonate what's left of my self-control.
"Whoops." The sultry giggle in her voice makes me want to pin her against the nearest wall. "Now, where did I put my..." She trails off, and the rustling behind me suggests she's giving me a show I'm simultaneously grateful and devastated to be missing.
I snag my shirt from my bag, throwing it behind me. "Put this on before I do something we'll both regret."
"Ooh, it smells like you."
If I survive this night, it'll be a miracle.
"Safe to look?"
