by Nicole Banks
Ivy kept her head down as she made her way towards the locker rooms. She wasn’t in the mood for anyone tonight and wanted to sit and sulk in the locker rooms alone. She ended up running right into Otto’s chest. He quickly grabbed her arms to steady her, and just like that, her body hummed with anticipation, which only heightened her frustration. This man was so woven into her she was never going to get him out of her system.
“Hey,” he whispered down at her. His gaze was on her lips, and for a moment, she thought he was going to kiss her. “Did you sleep okay?”
No.
Once Bruno left, she tossed and turned the rest of the night. Images of Otto were mixed in with her sister’s dead body because she couldn’t hurt Otto the way Bruno wanted her to. It just added fuel to the flames that she was in a no-win situation.
“Yeah, I slept okay,” she answered, hoping to get this conversation over with.
Otto smirked, grabbing her chin and forcing her to meet his penetrating gaze. “Didn’t I tell you that you can tell me if you’re not okay and I won’t think any less of you?”
Ivy was about to respond when the doors to Tres burst open and Mary came running in with blood on her hands and face. As soon as she spotted Otto she collapsed on the floor and started sobbing. Otto immediately ran over to her. He grabbed her arms and looked her over for a wound that would explain the amount of blood on her body.
“Are you hurt?” Otto asked in hushed tones. Mary shook her head and threw herself into Otto’s arms. He lifted her up, taking her over to the bar where the bartenders were setting up. They quickly threw rags over the bar top and Otto grabbed them, wiping the blood from Mary’s face.
Ivy stayed back and out of the way. Mary looked hurt and terrified, like she hadn’t really escaped whatever was after her. “They shot him,” she kept murmuring over and over again, and it made Otto curse under his breath.
“Are you hurt, Mary?” Otto asked again, and she looked at him like she just realized he was actually in front of her.
She shook her head. “This...this isn’t my blood,” she stammered over her words, “I can’t do this again, O. I can’t be here for this.” She sobbed into his arms, and Ivy wondered about the woman’s past. She was also hit with a wave of guilt like a swift kick in the ass. Mary had clearly been through something before Ivy came into their world, and her presence here was only going to make things worse.
This was the problem with these types of jobs Bruno made her do. There were always casualties, and it was the innocent ones who got hurt the worst.
Otto made Ivy take Mary into the locker room to help get her cleaned up. He had his sister book her the first flight out to stay with her aunt and niece in Florida. It was the one place no one aside from him and Gia knew about, and it would be the safest for her.
Bruno was definitely behind this attack. He knew how close Otto had been to her and partially what she had gone through. She was targeted because Bruno knew it would hurt Otto to see Mary hurt. Otto had to send two of his guys over to Mary’s place to clean up another dead body. They shot Eric twice in the head—execution style—in front of her. How she managed to escape he wasn’t sure, but he was glad for it. Otto wasn’t sure how he would have handled having to bury Mary’s body. It was already going to be tough on him to tell Eric’s family he wasn’t ever coming back home.
Otto rubbed his hands over his face, wondering how he ever managed to get into this life and never find a way out. His bad days were starting to look like his good days with the shit he’d experienced since Sofia came home. He never should have gotten in bed with her, but he honestly believed she wanted more than dead bodies piling up on her door.
Otto knew the cost of war was blood, but he wasn’t sure he was on board with the amount that would need to be spilled to win this.
Otto looked down at his watch, making note of the time. He had to head uptown with Sofia and Dom to meet Ethan. His hope was that this meeting was Ethan’s way of aligning himself with Sofia. It would give them the advantage for numbers.
“You good to go, O? I got everything here.” Otto turned his head to see Smoke walking on to the main floor. Smoke was already at the club helping Gia with whatever by the time Otto had arrived. Otto wanted to say something to Smoke about always being around his sister, but he swallowed his words. They had bigger issues to worry about than his relationship with Gia.
“I can’t wait for this to be over,” Otto murmured as the club started filling up.
“And for me to be gone.” Smoke said it more as a statement than a question, but Otto nodded anyway. Smoke chuckled at his response. “I bet your sister feels differently.”
Otto growled. “Why is your default setting on dickhead?”
“’Cause it’s easy to rile you up. You’re so sensitive. It’s sexy in a man.” The dipshit winked at him, and Otto contemplated beating him in front of all the customers who were pouring into Tres.
Otto pinched the bridge of his nose. “I really hate you,” he groaned, before letting out a breath. This wasn’t a battle he was going to win. “Just keep your guys here so Gia is protected and–”
“And Ivy?” Smoke finished for him.
“And the other women,” Otto stated matter-of-factly. Ivy and his sister weren’t his only concerns. “Does Mary have a ride to the airport?” Smoke nodded.
The lights in the club started to dim, and it made Otto anxious. He wanted to be well on his way before Ivy took the stage tonight. It was Thursday, which meant tonight was more for the gentlemen than their club atmosphere.
Their DJ got on the mic and went over his usual spiel, which Otto tuned out until the first chords of music started to play and the spotlight hit the stage. He didn’t want to look. He wanted his feet to drag him out of the club, but he hadn’t moved. He waited, his body strung tight in anticipation, waiting for her to take the stage.
Beyonce’s sultry voice boomed in the club as she sang the first lyrics to “6 Inch,” and Ivy walked out in six-inch heels and a short trench coat. She had on a fedora hat, hiding her face from the crowd. It didn’t matter that he couldn’t see anything but the silhouette of her body, Otto felt like he already knew what she was hiding underneath the clothes.
She walked toward the pole and the crowd of men started clapping and cheering her on. The whistles got louder when she turned around, tossing the hat to the side. She spun around the pole once, slowly sliding down the front of it into a toe stand. She opened her legs, giving the men in front a nice preview of what was to come.
It was like the first night they met all over again. Otto was drawn into her performance like a sailor led astray by a siren. His feet forced him closer to the stage instead of out the door like he thought he wanted.
She bent at the waist, giving the crowd a view of her ass as she shook it back and forth in time to the bass drop. His cock twitched in time to her moves, and when she undid the belt of her coat, he felt his mouth salivate. She quickly turned around and their eyes locked across the room. It almost felt like she was seeking him out to make sure he had a front row seat to the very thing he wanted but couldn’t touch.
Ivy slowly pulled her coat off to reveal a green lacy thong and matching see-through bra. He could see the dark tips of her nipples peeking through the bra, and he hummed low in the back of his throat as possession quickly consumed him.
Mine.
The word roared in his mind, silencing the cheers and hungry gazes of the men looking at her like they had her taste already on their tongues. He took another step toward the stage, but Smoke was on him, keeping him close so he didn’t do something crazy like rush the stage, throw her over his shoulder, and take her back to his office.
Ivy’s lips pulled into a smirk, and she slid down the pole again, getting on her hands and knees before sliding down onto her stomach with her ass up in the air. He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from groaning—images of fucking her flooded his mind in rapid succession. It was enough to bring him to his knees.
She quickly rolled over and sat up. Her legs dangled off the stage and as she put her hands behind her to grind on the stage. Otto knew what she was going to do next before the bastard sitting in front of her realized what was happening. She slid off the stage, hands planted on the man’s shoulders as she gave him a view of her tits before she rolled her body into the man’s face. He could tell from where he stood the man had a vice grip on the chair to keep himself from touching the temptation that was in front of him.
Ivy slowly sat on the man’s lap, never taking her eyes off of Otto. He had no idea what or why she was doing this, but all he could feel was rage coursing through him as he watched her grind on the gentleman’s lap. It was the first time since he started working at Tres that he hated gentlemen’s night. They should have never okayed the dancers to give the guys in front a lap dance as part of their performance. This was cruel torture for him, and going by the way Ivy danced, he had a feeling she knew what she was doing to him and she liked it.
He had to get out of here. He had a war he needed to help fight and a meeting to attend, and all he wanted to do was shut everyone out so he could spend the rest of the night marking her in a way that left her as addicted to him as he was becoming to her.
My poison Ivy.
Such a slow death you deliver.
The way you swing your hips and lick your lips has me blinded to your death blow.
IVY WAS IN THE LOCKER room still trying to catch her breath. She was hot and it had nothing to do with the temperature in the room. Her body ached in places she wanted Otto to ease. Bruno told her tonight would be the night to push Otto over the edge, and she knew she succeeded. Her dancing had been on par with when she used to practice pole all the time. She knew her dancing had been enticed by the feel of Otto’s eyes on her. He exhilarated her, made her want to move in a way that was only for him.
She thought for sure with everything going on she wouldn’t be able to perform tonight. The weight of her guilt was burying her, and seeing how frantic and shaken up Mary had been when she burst through those doors made her feel like a fraud when she tried to comfort her. When Ivy stepped on stage she thought for sure it would be the same old shit, but she felt Otto’s presence still in the club, and when they locked eyes everything melted away. She might have been up there because Bruno said so, but that dance was all for her and Otto.
Ivy could feel herself growing wetter as her breathing increased. She let her hand travel down her neck, dipping in between the valley of her breast, imagining Otto was the one touching her. The locker room was packed with other women, but she couldn’t see past her want for a man she needed to emotionally stay away from.
Ivy heard the door slam open, jarring her. She looked in the mirror and blinked a few times to make sure she hadn’t conjured him out of sheer imagination.
“Everyone out,” Otto gritted through clenched teeth.
Ivy smirked in her mirror before she stood up to leave. “Not you, Ivy.” His voice held a hint of heat and promise that made her pulse quicken.
Once the last of the women were out of the dressing room, Otto turned and locked the door, effectively shutting them off from any outsiders. She watched in the mirror as he stalked toward her with angry eyes and a clenched jaw. This wild storm that had been brewing since they met was getting closer to touching down. The air in the room evaporated, and all Ivy could think about was getting his hands on her body again.
The darkness in his eyes reminded her of rain clouds in a storm, and the way her heart hammered in her chest sounded like thunder in the sky. When he stopped just behind her and her head came up to the middle of his chest, he leaned down so his lips were a breath away from her neck. The anticipation coursed through her like lightning.
This was dangerous, and thrilling and if tonight was their beginning and their end, she was going to enjoy dancing in the rain with a man who made her experience pleasure when she had forgotten what that tasted like.
Otto kept his eyes glued to hers as he spoke. “My poison Ivy.” It wasn’t an uncommon nickname for her, but he had no idea how poisonous she was about to be to him.
His breath fell against her neck, and as much as she wanted to fight the attraction she had to him—wanted to push him a little more—her traitorous body had other plans. Her head fell back against his chest, giving him more access to her body.
He was a distraction for her. He was supposed to be the mark that would set her and her sister free. She tried to bury her emotions and make sure this stayed as physical as possible, but the longer he held her gaze with more than hunger in his eyes, the harder it was not to let her emotions into the mess they were about to create.
She wanted him with a desperation she never felt before. She wanted the freedom he represented—the one she may never get a chance to taste again.
“That little show you just put on is going to cost you, my Ivy,” Otto whispered.
“You sound jealous, O.” She licked her lips, never taking her eyes off the man who was going to destroy her in more ways than one.
His hand fisted in her hair, and his other hand came around to untie the robe she threw on after her performance. She still had on what she wore on stage, and the way Otto stared at her through the mirror made her nipples pucker beneath the fabric. She could tell Otto liked that reaction by the way his nose flared and his jaw ticked.
His fingertips were light to the touch as they traveled down the middle of her body, landing just above the lace of her thong. Ivy held her breath as they stared at each other, daring the other to make a move on the undeniable attraction they had toward one another. It had been there the moment he stepped into Tres, and it only intensified the more they crossed paths.
“Tell me my wicked Ivy, when you were dancing for them, it was me you pictured wrapping your legs around.” His hand inched lower and her breath hitched, silently begging him to continue to move his hand lower.
He bit the bottom of her ear before his lips found her neck. He nipped at her neck before she felt the press of his warm lips against her skin and her legs almost gave out. She fell forward grabbing on to the table to keep her steady. But the feel of Otto’s thick erection pressed into her ass was doing the exact opposite. Her body shook with need. Desperation clawed at her, making her core throb, and she almost wept at the emptiness she felt.
His hand was against the bare skin of her ass, and her damn body arched into his touch. His deep chuckle only made her grow wetter. She had to stay focused. She couldn’t slip up and fall for the man who infuriated her and somehow had her body on the edge of coming without physically being inside of her. This was the most in control she’d been when it came to sex, and yet she wasn’t in control at all. Otto had her body on puppet strings, pulling each one to get a desired action out of her.
This was mental foreplay, stimulating parts of her body just with the anticipation of being fucked by him.
Ivy shifted her thighs together, and Otto kicked her feet apart. He tsked under his breath. “Are you wet for me?” She felt his fingertips on the inside of her thighs, and she hoped he’d touch her where she wanted him the most. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of begging for it though.
There was a loud knock on the door and Otto cursed under his breath. “Let’s go, Otto. No fucking—or fraternizing—or whatever the fuck you told me not to do with the girls. If you’re in there fucking one of them, I’m going to fuck you up.”
Ivy knew that voice. That was Smoke, the biker who not-so-subtly threatened her if she hurt the people he cared about. She was instantly grateful for his interruption because it reminded her of what was at stake, but she hated him for it in the same breath. She wanted Otto to fuck her right here on her vanity. She wanted to feel his power inside of her, branding her so she could hold onto a piece of him, but she knew once she got him in her system, it was going to be damn near impossible to get him out.
Otto released her, and she turned to see him readjusting himself. His eye
s never left hers, and she could have sworn he saw right through her—past their sexual attraction, right down to the person she truly was and who she had to be to survive.
She licked her lips. “I guess you have to go. I do hope you enjoyed the show.”
There was another knock. “Yo, dickwad, hurry up.”
“I’m coming, dipshit,” Otto barked, but he never took his eyes off of her. “Or rather you are.” He stepped into her space again and quickly picked her up and sat her on top of her vanity. He spread her legs wide as he knelt down in between them and gripped the back of her legs, throwing them over his shoulders. “Do me a favor, and make sure you scream my name loud enough so that asshole on the other side of the door knows you belong to me.”
“What makes you so–” Ivy’s question ended in a groan as soon as she felt Otto’s tongue pressed against her. She heard the flimsy fabric of her thong ripping before she felt two thick fingers inside of her. He wasn’t taking his time, and she had zero issue with that. She’d been turned on during her dance, knowing Otto’s eyes had been on her the entire time.
He feasted on her like he was a dying man and the wetness that poured out of her was the only thing that could sustain him. She gripped the back of his head and she grinded against his face, chasing the feeling she had since the second he walked into the dressing room. “Don’t stop,” she panted. She was close. She could feel him pushing her to an edge she’d only ever seen by herself and fuck if it wasn’t a thrill. She forgot how good sex could be when it was enjoyed.
He pulled back, his fingers still fucking her, and she whimpered at the loss of his mouth on her. “Otto,” she groaned and looked down at him, “I told you don’t stop.”
His wet lips pulled back into a smile. “Say please, Ivy.” He licked his lips, and she bit her own to keep from giving him what he wanted.
He shrugged and started to pull his fingers out of her and she quickly gripped his hand. “Cut the power play, Otto. You came into this dressing room for a reason, now finish it,” she snapped, frustrated that she was close and he’d taken it away.