“I love you, I’m sorry!” Ivy yells down over the steel bar. “So you know about Sophie and Beau?” she says when she sits back up.
I quirk an eyebrow. “Yes. Do you?”
“Yep,” she says, popping thep.“That was diabolical.” She lets out a light chuckle, shaking her head.
I shrug one shoulder. “They need to figure their shit out. If Beau is back for good, this thing they’re doing where they pretend the other doesn’t exist, isn’t sustainable,” I say. “But, I don’t want to talk about them.”
“Oh?” she asks, turning toward me. “And what, pray tell, would you like to talk about?” She’s got that mischievous flirty look in her eye, and I can’t help myself.
I don’t think. Cupping her jaw, I dip down and lightly brush our lips together, just enough to feel her small intake of breath. I hover, letting our breath mingle only for a second, before finally giving in. Dipping my tongue in, I kiss her slow, and lazy, like we have all the time in the world, and were not on a five minute ride, easily visible to the other carts. She tastes like cotton candy, and it’s fucking addictive.
Ivy grips the fabric of my shirt, pulling me closer to her, and I groan into her mouth. I want her so fucking bad. My heart is beating so fast, I’m positive she can hear it. I’m completely lost in her. She does something with her tongue—I don’t know how to explain it—and I nearly lose all of my control, and slip my hand under that tiny little athletic skirt.
I bring my other hand up, cradling her head in my hands, and pressing her into me harder. Her lips are so fucking soft and biteable, I give into the urge, nipping at her lower lip. The sound that comes out of her is by far the sexiest, best thing I’ve ever heard in all of my thirty-four years on this planet.
It’s the faintest, softest whimper, ending on a light gasp, and I decide right here and now, the second we get home, and are alone, I will do everything in my power to make her recreate it over and over and over.
Metal creaks, and we’re jolted forward abruptly, before swinging backward. Ivy and I break apart, chests heaving. Her eyes are glassy, and her lips are pink and swollen. I look over my shoulder and realize that we’re already back at the bottom.
Maverick, Lincoln and my mom are standing there, waiting for us to exit our cart with shit-eating grins on all of their faces. I don’t know when, but throughout the ride, Ivy threw her legs over mine, and was practically in my lap. I stand quickly, and turn my back to the nosey audience, shielding her from view, so she can right her skirt, and stand.
“Thank you,” she whispers.
I lean down and give her one more peck for the road, and whisper back, “Just wait til I get you home.”
I pull back, and she bites down on her smile, looking up at me through her lashes. “Can’t wait,” she quips, before scooting past me and off the cart.
Home.
Warmth pulses beneath my ribs. She didn’t even blink, even hesitate, at my use of the word. I step off the cart and follow Ivy, ignoring the prying eyes all the way over to my dad and Lilah, where they’re getting their faces painted. Yes, both of them.
We all watch Lilah get—you guessed it—a dragon, and my dad gets a tiger, and the rest of the night goes off without a hitch. My parents and I take Lilah on all of the smaller rides, while my brothers make it their mission to win their niece a stuffed animal that’s twice her size. Sophie yells at me for abandoning her with Beau, and Ivy drags her over to the funnel cake booth to try and soothe her and gossip about whatever the hell happened in their cart.
I’m pretty sure Beau left after the Ferris wheel.
We all pile into mine and my parents’ truck, and head home when Lilah’s energy starts to fade. I drop Maverick and Sophie off at their houses, before I’m finally pulling up the gravel drive to our house.
When I cut the engine, the cab is silent, save for a dozing Lilah.
I turn to Ivy, rubbing circles on her bare outer-thigh with my thumb, while the rest of my hand is trapped between her luscious thighs. “I’m going to get her cleaned up, and in bed,” I whisper.
She nods. “I’ll get ready for bed too. I’ll wait for you on the couch,” she says, almost shyly.
I give her thigh a rough squeeze. “I'll try to get her to sleep quickly.”
I don’t think she means to, but she tilts her hips toward my hand, before settling back in her seat again. She clears her throat. “Okay,” she croaks.
This is going to be the quickest bath of Lilah’s life. I reluctantly pull my hand from the paradise of Ivy’s thighs, and get out of the truck. I round the hood, and look through the windshield, where Ivy waits patiently for me to open her door. I help her step down onto the gravel, and close the door behind her.
“Good girl,” I rasp.
Ivy lets out the cutest little squeak when I slap her ass, before she hurries up the porch steps to unlock the front door. I gather up a nearly asleep Lilah and make my way inside the house, whispering, “Thank you” to Ivy, who’s holding the door open for us. I slip off mine and Lilah’s shoes, and head down the hall to her bathroom.
“I don’t want to take a bath,” Lilah whines, as I start removing her socks.
“I know bug, but you gotta,” I reply, and have to fold my lips together to keep from laughing at her disheveled hair and smudged face paint. She looks insane.
The bath takes longer than expected, considering Liliah’s exhausted meltdown over not wanting to take off her facepaint, but we get it done. Sugar bugs are the only threat that convinces her to brush her teeth, then I help her into her pajamas, and find Burrito under her pile of blankets, before tucking her in. When I turn back from choosing a book, she’s already out.
