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Cold Page 11

by Max Monroe


  I nearly wanted to laugh at her accusation, but instead, I decided to roll with it.

  “Would you rather I didn’t check?” I asked sarcastically.

  “Are you fucking serious, Levi?” she spat out on a whisper.

  “Now, calm down for a second,” I muttered and pushed the sheets off my body to free my legs. I moved them until they hung off the edge of the bed and my back was vertical. “It’s late. I’m half asleep. And there are literally no lights on. So, please, give me a break here. I wasn’t trying to be an asshole.”

  “Kind of seemed like it.” She huffed out a sigh, and my gaze adjusted to the darkness until I could really see her. Ivy stood before me, dressed in her version of pajamas—silky and soft and leaving little to the imagination.

  Fucking hell.

  The light of the moon shone in through the windows of my bedroom and only added to her beauty.

  “Is everything okay?” I asked, and she just shrugged. “Do you need something?”

  Say me. Say you need me.

  She shrugged again.

  I couldn’t not laugh at the irony of the situation. She’d made her way into my bedroom in the middle of the night, but she appeared hesitant to tell me why.

  “Don’t laugh at me.”

  I raised both hands in the air. “I swear I’m not laughing at you.”

  A hand to her little hip, she tapped a determined foot against the ground. “You’re a horrible liar, Levi Fox.”

  I patted the spot on the bed beside me, but she didn’t budge.

  I patted it again. “I don’t bite. Promise.”

  Another sigh. A few more taps of her foot. But, eventually, she moved toward me and sat down. Vanilla and silk and a scent that could only be Ivy hit me like a freight train.

  Everything about this woman called to me, even the way she fucking smelled.

  “The song,” she whispered, but her eyes didn’t meet mine. She stared down at her fingers that were now fidgeting in her lap. “Why don’t you like that song?”

  “Is that why you came in here?” I asked, and she just shrugged…again.

  “I’m just curious. And you said…” She paused and lifted her gaze to mine. “You said you’d tell me.”

  Ivy deserved my truth. And even though a large part of me just didn’t want to discuss the very subject she was trying to broach, I knew I’d never gain her trust without being willing to push through my own discomfort, my own hang-ups, my fucking past that I’d let haunt me for far too long.

  I inhaled a long, slow breath and let out the air on a cleansing sigh. “That was the song that was playing when…” I paused for a brief moment, until I found the strength to explain. “‘Blue Bayou’ was the song Walter Gaskins had playing inside his house when Grace died. That fucking song was what filled my ears as she took her last breath.”

  Ivy’s eyes widened and her lips parted, and without hesitation, she reached out and placed her hand in mine. “God…that’s horrible,” she whispered.

  “Yeah,” I whispered back. “It was his song, apparently. The one he played when he was…” I paused, not because I couldn’t say the words, but because I didn’t think Ivy actually needed the words. My silence was answer enough.

  She stayed quiet, and her gaze searched mine for a long moment.

  “I don’t like that song anymore either,” she said, and for some odd reason, it urged the corners of my mouth to lift up ever so slightly.

  All at once, with her emerald eyes staring into mine, she hit me like a ray of sun. Everything I needed and more was written all over her. An angel beneath the soft glow of the moon, she might as well have had a fucking golden halo hanging over her head.

  I swore I’d never fall again.

  But this wasn’t even falling.

  This was being awakened.

  All of those walls I’d built, I watched as they tumbled from around my soul and hit the ground in a rubble of dust and dirt.

  Every rule I’d had, she’d broken.

  Every promise I’d made to myself, she’d forced me to reconsider.

  Before Ivy, I hadn’t wanted any risks.

  But now, I’d take every fucking risk if it meant being with her.

  I’d risk it all.

  Without thinking or second-guessing, I did the one thing I’d been dying to do.

  I slid my fingers into the soft and silky locks of her hair and pressed my lips to hers. She responded with fervor, her full lips moving against mine in a rough and unsteady rhythm.

  Our kiss grew deeper and deeper until her arms were wrapped around my neck, and I pulled her into my lap, her thighs straddling my hips.

  God, she felt so good. Tasted so good. Everything I’d been imagining for the past several weeks did not live up to the real thing.

  I needed her. This. Us.

  I needed to taste her. Touch her. Feel her.

  I needed to be inside of her.

  I wanted to mark her as mine. Claim her. Show her that she belonged to me.

  Because she did.

  Ivy Stone belonged to me.

  And I belonged to her too.

  “Now. Now,” I moaned against his lips.

  I needed him. The cravings for him ran so deep within my veins I wouldn’t be able to leave this room until I’d felt him inside of me. Until I’d heard his moans. Felt his groans against my lips. And watched his eyes glaze over as he filled me up.

  Between one breath and the next, he had my pajama shorts and panties off and tossed to the floor.

  Impatient, I reached up and pulled him down, his body hovering over mine as he removed his boxer briefs and threw them across the room.

  My thighs shook, and needy moans spilled from my lips as I anticipated what he would feel like. Impatient and greedy, I waited with bated breath for him to slide his cock inside of me.

  But he wasn’t being fast enough.

  “Fuck me,” I whispered, and my eyes pleaded with his.

  He didn’t speed up, didn’t race to the proverbial finish line that ended with us fucking. He just stared down at me, midnight-blue eyes even darker and deeper in intensity beneath the soft glow of the moon filtering in through the bedroom windows.

  Slow, oh so very slow, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to my neck. He suckled tenderly against the sensitive skin, his tongue running along my thrumming pulse, until those lips of his turned hungry and placed greedy, openmouthed kisses along my neck, across my collarbone, and down my chest.

  I moaned, and my eyes fell closed.

  As his body moved down mine, his lips dropping kisses on every inch of my skin, his cock brushed against me, there, right there, in that oh so perfect place where I throbbed and ached for him.

  My hips moved of their own accord, my body too high on desire and only responding on instinct.

  I wanted his cock inside of me. So bad. So fucking bad.

  “Please,” I whispered. “Now, Levi.”

  But my words didn’t have any effect.

  He didn’t speed up or slow down; he just continued what he was doing, his warm breath and hot mouth worshiping my skin.

  When his lips found my breast, I trembled.

  And when the tip of his tongue circled my nipple, goose bumps pebbled my skin and tiny little jolts of pleasure rolled along my spine, running all the way down my legs and making my toes curl.

  His lips were on my belly now, and between sensual kisses, those intense eyes of his locked with mine. “I feel like I’ve been waiting three lifetimes to do this. To see you like this,” he whispered just below my belly button, and his big, strong hands gripped my thighs, spreading them even farther.

  I whimpered.

  “Your beauty wrecks me, Ivy.”

  “Please,” I begged. “Fuck me, Levi.”

  Ever so slightly, he shook his head. “I’m not fucking you tonight.”

  “You’re not?” I asked on a whisper, my eyes growing wide in confusion.

  “No, I’m not,” he responded. “Th
is is way more than just fucking.”

  But he didn’t give me any time to process those words. Kneeling between my thighs and gripping his cock with one hand, he guided himself to where I was wet and hot and needy for him.

  I watched in rapt attention as he pushed himself inside of me, inch by inch by inch, and oh so fucking slow.

  Time might as well have stood still in that moment.

  There was nothing rushed or impulsive about this.

  When his big, thick cock filled me up completely, a raw, guttural moan spilled from my lips.

  God, he felt so good.

  So right.

  “More,” I said, my voice a mere whimper, my brain too delirious with want and need and pleasure. “Please, more.”

  Still on his knees, still oh so deep inside of me, he reached forward and pulled me onto his lap.

  “Wrap your hands around my neck,” he whispered, and I listened.

  Nose-to-nose, chest-to-chest, we stared at one another. Our gazes locked in a maelstrom of desire and need and something else that felt too strong to confront.

  Slow and purposeful, he gripped my hips with his big hands as he guided me up and down his hard length.

  Up and down.

  Up and down.

  He savored every small, tiny thrust by kissing me deeply.

  He moaned when he picked up the pace, going faster and deeper and increasing the intensity.

  But the entire time, one thing never changed.

  He looked at me. Not my breasts. Or my pussy. Or the way my body was wrapped around him like a second skin.

  But into my eyes. My soul. Into my heart.

  He looked at me.

  I searched his eyes for the meaning. And when I’d found the slightest inkling of what I’d been looking for, my heart rate kicked up, tripping into a fast, erratic rhythm.

  It was too much. He was too much.

  It was too good. He felt too right.

  Vulnerable and scared I’d just up and hand him my heart, I averted my eyes.

  But he didn’t let me avoid him…this…us.

  With a gentle finger underneath my chin, he reoriented my face so that our gazes were locked again, tied together by some invisible string.

  “Give me your eyes,” he whispered and laid us back on the bed.

  He pushed himself deep again, and my eyes drifted closed, a moan escaping my lips.

  “Never stop giving me those eyes, Ivy,” he said as he rested his elbows beside my head.

  Pleasure and desire taking over, he picked up the pace, his cock driving in and out of me in heavy strokes.

  I felt like I would unravel at the seams. Like I would explode into a million tiny pieces. I gripped his shoulders with my hands, my nails pushing into his skin, as I tried to hold myself together.

  But it was no use. He held all the power in this.

  And he knew my body better than I did.

  “Give me your lips.”

  “Give me your tongue.”

  “Give me your pleasure.”

  Give me. Give me. Give me.

  My brain wanted to defy him.

  My heart wanted to give him everything.

  Levi knew when to be soft and when to be hard.

  He knew just how to kiss my neck and breathe into my ear and caress my sensitive, aching skin with his fingertips.

  He knew just how to move his cock inside of me, going deep, going slow, going fast, but always hitting the right spots to make me beg for more.

  All the while, the pleasure was building inside of me.

  His kisses turned long and profound, and I gasped from the feel of him, the taste of him, from…him.

  Bodies entwined and Levi whispering my name, I felt the instant my heart decided.

  I felt the instant it reached out of my chest and fused with his.

  I had no control over it.

  I had no say in the matter.

  It just was.

  Like it always had been.

  The push and pull between us, the fighting, the screaming, the awful things we’d done and said to one another…my heart didn’t care about any of it.

  It only felt.

  It only wanted one person.

  Levi.

  When the need to chase my pleasure grew too strong, I gave in. I let my body feel it all. Each thrust. Each kiss. Each touch.

  I didn’t hold back.

  I didn’t think about anything else.

  Just him.

  Just us.

  Just right now.

  My heart pounded erratically, and my breaths came out in unsteady pants as I rose higher and higher and higher.

  And with my body entwined with his, green eyes staring into blue, I gave him my pleasure, coming hard around his cock.

  My body shook and trembled, and moans spilled from my lips as he followed my lead.

  His back grew rigid, and his hands clenched the sheets on the bed as he pushed himself as far as he could go, spilling himself inside of me.

  Sated and limp, he lay down beside me and pulled me on top of his big, muscular body.

  My head resting against his chest, I felt each inhale and exhale of his lungs and each thump-thump of his heart. And I let those sounds of his soothe me until I felt my eyes grow heavy with sleep.

  The first annoying bleeps of my alarm startled me awake, and with my eyes still closed, I felt across the bed blindly until I reached my phone on the nightstand.

  Slowly and reluctantly, I uncovered my face from beneath the sheets.

  I blinked, closed my eyes, and blinked again until I gained the sight needed to turn the goddamn alarm off before it dove into round two of its personal rendition of sounds from hell.

  Streaks of sunlight penetrated the window and damn near blinded me as I worked to focus and steady my groggy gaze.

  Like a waterfall, a rush of thoughts and memories, all revolving around last night, flooded my mind.

  Ivy.

  Ivy and me. Together. Entangled. Connected.

  I’d kissed, caressed, worshiped every inch of her body.

  I’d been so deep inside of her I hadn’t known where I ended and she began.

  I’d swallowed her moans, felt her clench around my cock as she came all over me.

  I’d memorized every inch of her body. Every sound. Every taste.

  You made love to her last night.

  I looked to my right, only to find the space her perfect body once filled completely empty.

  Dread and disappointment filled my gut.

  I couldn’t deny her lack of presence affected me.

  I’d fallen asleep last night with Ivy in my arms, looking forward to waking up that very same way, but she was nowhere to be found.

  I listened closely for the sounds of the master bathroom, but nothing.

  My gaze scanned across the floor of my bedroom, searching for remnants of her presence last night, but not a single item remained. Not her silk pajamas or lace panties. Nothing.

  Shoving the sheets and comforter off my body, I dragged my feet out of bed, sat up on the side of the mattress, and rubbed my knuckles over my eyes.

  I had no idea where Ivy went, but I could only assume both she and Camilla were getting ready for another day on set.

  Because of daylight and landscape preferences for all outdoor scenes, Hugo Roman had the entire cast and crew starting their day at nine this week.

  Standing and stretching out the creaks and kinks of my muscles, I slid on my boxer briefs and headed into the master bathroom.

  The soft sounds of voices filtered up from downstairs, and a small sense of relief fluttered inside my stomach.

  She was still here.

  I’d like to say I’d planned on taking a shower and starting my day with my normal routine, but that would’ve been a lie.

  I needed to see her. Talk to her. Find out why I’d woken up alone.

  A few minutes later, dressed in a pair of gray sweat pants and a white T-shirt, I jogged down the stairs to the m
ain floor.

  Ivy stood at the kitchen island while Camilla sat on one of the barstools across from her, staring down at the screen of her phone.

  “Morning,” I greeted, and Camilla’s gaze lifted to mine.

  “Good morning, Levi,” she responded, eyes friendly.

  But, Ivy… She only offered a barely mumbled, “Hey.”

  They were both dressed and ready to start their day.

  “Hungry?” I asked.

  “I stole a granola bar from the pantry,” Camilla answered, her smile half apologetic and half mischievous. “Hope you don’t mind.”

  I grinned. “Not at all. Feel free to help yourself to anything.”

  My gaze moved to Ivy, who still stood at the kitchen island, her hip resting against the edge. “Did you eat something? I can make you some eggs,” I offered, knowing it was part of her normal routine.

  She shook her head. “I’m not hungry.”

  “What about some coffee?” I asked, and she shook her head again.

  “No, thanks.”

  Wow. If her warmth toward me had a degree, it’d be fucking frigid.

  But before I could say anything else, three heavy knocks to the front door filled the otherwise silent space between the three of us.

  “Oh!” Camilla exclaimed and hopped out of her seat. “That’s probably Dane.”

  She was out of the kitchen and headed for the foyer between one breath and the next, Ivy following her lead.

  What in the fuck is going on?

  Reeling over Ivy’s suddenly closed-off demeanor, I stood frozen in my spot by the coffee machine for a few quiet moments, but once Dane’s deep chuckle filled my ears, I knew I needed to head toward the front door and greet him.

  The three of them stood inside the open foyer, and the small overnight bags the girls had packed were in Dane’s hands.

  “Mornin’, Levi,” he greeted with an overzealous grin, his body clad in his Cold PD uniform.

  I nodded. “What brings you here this early?”

  “Well,” he started, and I didn’t miss the fact that his gaze averted toward a bright-eyed Camilla. “Cam called me about an hour ago and asked me to bring their rental car here.”

  “Oh, okay,” I muttered, and my eyes locked with Ivy’s for the briefest of moments.

 

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