Holy fucking shit.
She’s wearing nothing but a matching greeny-blue lace underwear set, her pink silky robe slipping down her shoulder. I let my eyes roam over the image again, and my heartbeat begins to increase in speed rapidly.
Ivy sent me this. Ivy. Sent. Me. This.
“JJ?” Cal says, forcing my eyes away from my phone.
I jump up from the sand and slide my phone in my pocket. “I gotta go.”
“What?”
“I’ll tell you later,” I rush out a quick lie before darting off. “Sorry, I’ll see you guys later.”
Joel laughs and waves. “Alright… bye.”
I take off towards the house as quickly as possible. It doesn’t take long to get from the beach back to their home, which I’m thankful for.
The image has been burned into my mind. But goodness, I want to see it in real life.
I draw my keys from my pocket and hurry to shove them in the door, failing the first time but successfully getting it the second. As soon as I’m inside, I slam the door behind me, scoping the living room and kitchen to find no one here.
My legs race up the stairs as I approach Ivy’s door. I don’t knock, I don’t wait. I can’t physically breathe.
I press my hand to the door and let it creak open. Ivy glances over her shoulder at me, those green eyes bright with surprise. Her hand clutches her robe together in a death grip.
She literally just took the photo. Merely ten minutes ago.
Oh fuck.
My chest heaves as I study her face, those perfect pink lips and precious little freckles. I step into her room, shutting the door behind me with a click. For a moment, I lean on the door, hands behind my back.
Her breathing becomes louder, backing away into the desk as if she’s trying to put as much distance between us as possible. But something crackles in the air, it’s been here since the first night we met.
After a few seconds, I push off the door and stroll towards her with agonisingly slow strides. Ivy studies me, and I flick my gaze down her attire. “Are you purposely trying to kill me?” I ask, my voice a lot deeper than I expected.
“No, I—” She stops talking to lick her bottom lip. “It wasn’t meant for you.”
I quirk a brow, her hands slide against her desk for extra space, but there is nowhere else for her to go. “It wasn’t meant for me?”
Ivy’s chest heaves. “No, it was for—” She cuts herself off. “It was for?—”
I’m inches from her now. She looks so small as I move even closer. “Tell me who it was for, Ivy.” My voice is calm.Still.
She looks up at me from under her lashes and shakes her head, glancing away. I close myself around her, taking her chin between my fingers to tilt her gaze back to mine. When she finally looks at me again, I whisper, “Tell me,whowas it for?”
Ivy shivers. My words resting on her parted lips. I glance down at them once and scold myself because now I want to taste them, bite them, suck on them until she’s crying out for me to do more.
My head races with positions I’d love to put her in. Listen to her whimper and beg to be touched. I grind my jaw and tell myself to calm down. I know underneath her tiny gown is that mouthwatering underwear set she was wearing in her picture.
It’s taking every ounce of patience not to rip it off her.
I stroke my thumb across her lip, and she whines at the touch. “Tell me,” I demand.
When she swallows this time, her eyes remain on mine. “You.”
A deep sense of pride and relief washes over me. “That’s what I thought,” I grunt before pressing my lips to hers in a gentle kiss. It’s not possessive or urgent. I said what I meant in those texts, I’m going to take my time because I want to live every damn second of being with her.
I slide my hand against her cheek as I kiss around her mouth, jaw, and chin. Ivy exhales a low sigh of satisfaction, and the smile that etches its way onto my face is smug. I know exactly who and what she wants.
