Yet he barely gave her that. Ivy closed her eyes, luxuriating in the jets in her much-missed shower. His anger was real and raw, and she wondered how he would have used that anger if he was at Club Bandit or if it wasn’t a sleepy tumble-into-bed scene.
The thing was, she wasn’t afraid of his fury. It was always there. Gabe Arthur wasn’t chill.
It didn’t scare her because he treated everyone around him with respect and courtesy. He wasn’t violent. He never threw anything or hit her, and once they started D/s, it’s like he found an outlet for his emotions. She took what he gave, and he expressed how proud he was of her for doing so and heaped her with praise. That’s how it had always been between them.
She dried off and tiptoed down the hall to check on him, early morning light enough to see by from the opened curtains.
He was stretched out on the couch-the dark green one she had fallen in love with when they first moved into this condo-his knees kind of between the chaise part and the seat part.
The sex tonight, the raw push-pull sex, ripped her part. But it had felt so damn right to feel his muscles above her, the weight of his arm around her shoulders, his palm over her mouth, to breathe in his familiar musky scent.
She stood back, knowing that if she touched him, he’d startle awake.
God, she wished things were different. That he would stop demanding from her something she wasn’t going to give. He claimed it was only for a night, and he didn’t want her, but his cock driving into her so hard she was still sore this morning said he did. Ivy climbed back into bed, remembering the heated touch and how the orgasm was so powerful that it left her wanting more.
She tossed and turned for another half hour. Then Ivy reached into her nightstand drawer and found her favourite vibe. Gabe hadn’t thrown it out. Closing her eyes, she switched it to the gentlest setting. Biting her lip, she remembered the feel of his muscular hand over her mouth. How hard his cock was. The gentle vibrations gave her a pleasant, little orgasm, and it was enough to shut her brain down, and a part of her took delight from the fact that he didn’t control her orgasms anymore. She used to think she could soothe his angst, that D/s turned it down and gave it focus. Now she wasn’t so sure.
Even with the interrupted sleep, she had slept better than she had in months.
Grabbing the first piece of clothing she found, which was a t-shirt of Gabe’s from over the chair, she made her way out into the kitchen, blinking at the light. She had missed this bright and warm, cheerful, open space.
Her space. With her photos of sunflowers on the wall, her sunray mirror above the couch, the kitchen cabinets she had upcycled into bookcases against the back wall, with her collection of multi-coloured vases. So little in this space, Gabe had changed. Missing were the photos of them from their years together.
On the counter sat her French press and her favourite coffee. Ivy shook her head as she started to make the coffee. What did this mean? Was this an offering? An apology?
He was angry with her but left her coffee.
When the coffee was ready, she poured a mug full and opened the doors to the balcony, her favourite iron chair and table waiting for her.
She had missed this, looking out towards the ocean, the sun on her face as she sipped her coffee. It was such a little thing, but she couldn’t find this space on her own in this overpriced city. The apartment she shared with Holton had the smallest balcony, and they couldn’t fit a chair on it, never mind a plant stand and a table for six.
She had worked so hard to buy this condo, rising in the ranks at Metric. With one post, it came crashing down.
Emery was right. She needed to get herself together because she couldn’t rely on Gabe.
Ivy sighed. She had to get on with it, and she had spent too much time wallowing in her hurt.
Picking up her phone, she dialled her mom.
“Ivy! Hello, honey. How are you this morning?”
“Hi, Mom.” Ivy took a sip of her coffee. Her mom’s voice made her feel as if she could cry and let out all her pent-up emotions, and she didn’t want to do that right now. “What are you doing today?”
“I’m going to help Dad with cleaning the south field. He’s already been out there for almost four hours. I have a rehearsal later tonight.”
“That’s good.” For a moment, Ivy wanted to be back there, helping her dad clean the fields and helping her mother get all her stuff together for the rehearsal.
“Ivy, what’s going on?”
“I think I’m ready to look for a new job.”
A pause where she could hear her mother smiling. “Honey, that’s wonderful! Someone out there is going to see how talented you are.”
“My last client. I mean, it didn’t work out.”
“Ivy, I know Metric firing you shook your confidence, but posting pictures for a social media influencer isn’t what you wanted to do. It’s okay that your foray into personal PR didn’t work out.”
“Yeah, I know.” Her throat felt tight. She was so lucky to have caring, supportive parents. She hadn’t told her parents about the breakup between her and Gabe, but she had told them Metric fired her, skirting around the reason.
