by Jill Shalvis
Brandon had cleaned up.
And then bounced.
He’d promised he’d stay only one night and he’d kept that promise. And at the thought, she felt both relieved and inexplicably sad.
Chapter 19
Just one more. Okay, two more. Three.
Ivy dragged herself to kickboxing class, where, not surprisingly, she got her ass handed to her by Tina.
“Your head’s not in the game,” Tina yelled.
True story.
Class had started with a warm-up and would end with a cooldown, but in between were several rounds of high intensity intervals. That’s where they were at the moment, with Haley on one side and Sadie on the other, the three of them seriously lagging.
“Ladies,” Tina called out. “When the going gets tough, ask yourself—what would Tina do? And then get your damn head in the game.”
Haley, who’d had a few more dates with Dee and was looking happier than any of them had ever seen her, whimpered. “This is what I get for being a sex fiend. I’m too tired to get my head in the game.”
Sadie bent over at her knees to suck in air. “I’m . . . going to have to tell Caleb . . . that we can’t do it on the nights . . . I’ve got kickboxing class the next morning.”
“Ladies!” Tina called out. “If you can’t do it all night long and then handle this class the next morning, then I’m doing something wrong. Let’s start over, from the top. One-two punch, jab, cross, and front kick. And . . . repeat!”
They all groaned and got to work.
Life at the taco truck that day was insanely busy, but thanks to Jenny’s help, everything ran smoothly. The rain held off until Ivy had just started to walk home. In two blocks, she was soaking wet and frozen solid thanks to once again forgetting her umbrella.
Halfway home, Kel called.
“Hey, Trouble. How was your day?”
She found herself smiling for absolutely no reason. “Long.”
“Yeah? You got enough left in you for dinner?”
She paused. Not because she didn’t want to see him. She wanted that quite shockingly badly. “I’m wet, which means I’ll have to change. And once I take off my bra, I won’t want to go anywhere.”
His voice lowered to a sexy timbre. “Even better.”
She laughed. “Okay, so you’re definitely a guy.”
“Thought I proved that last night.”
“Did you?” she asked innocently. “That was hours and hours ago and I’m not sure I can remember.”
He paused. “You’re flirting with me.”
“Am I?”
“New plan,” he said.
“What’s that?”
“Leave your panties off too.”
Suddenly she wasn’t cold anymore. In fact, she was downright toasty hot as she disconnected and stared at her phone, pulse racing.
A flash of lightning had her quickly entering her building, and as she began to climb the three flights of stairs, she fantasized about all the things they might do to each other . . .
In the hallway in front of her door she stopped, and dripping a puddle around her feet, she took the extra beat to study her lock. Yes, she was flustered as hell, and also quite turned on. But she wasn’t stupid.
The tape was not in place. Instead, it hung off the jamb about an inch from the floor. But for the life of her, she couldn’t remember if she’d taken the time to set it before she’d left that morning.
Which meant she had no idea if someone—Brandon—had helped himself inside. Holding her breath, she unlocked the door and nudged it open with her foot, carefully peering in just as thunder boomed dramatically. But storms had never scared her.
People scared her.
One of the good things about living in two hundred and fifty square feet was that she could see her entire place in a single sweeping glance.
It was empty.
Still, she stayed on guard as she stepped inside and shut and locked the door behind her. Everything seemed exactly as she’d left it and she let out a long breath.
For the first time in his entire life, Brandon had really done what he’d promised and left. She tossed her purse to the couch and began to strip on her way to the bathroom and the hot shower she’d been dreaming about all day long. She was soaked to the bone and her clothes were stuck to her wet body. As she pulled them off, they hit the floor with a thunk.
She was at the bathroom door when her phone rang. It was Kel. “I miss you,” he said in greeting.
She felt a ridiculously goofy smile curve her mouth. “Prove it.”
“I’m outside your door with dinner.”
She grabbed a small throw from the back of the couch. Wrapping herself up, she opened the door a crack, letting just part of her face show. “What’s for dinner?”
His gaze slid southbound from her face. “You.”
Liking that answer a lot more than she should, she stepped back enough to let him in, watching him shut and lock the door behind him. “Is your brother still here?” he asked.
“Nope, and if past habits are anything to go by, I won’t see him again for a few years.”
Nodding, he turned and took in the sight of her from head to toe.
“I’m still wet,” she said softly.
His eyes darkened. “Are you?”
She shivered, and not from cold this time. Outside, the rain pummeled the roof and slashed at the windows. Inside, she was nearly overheating.
“Come here, Ivy,” he murmured, setting the bag in his hand down and reaching for her. “I’m . . . starving.”
Laughing, she held him off with a hand to the chest, which had her throw slipping a little bit, giving a quick free peep show that had him stepping into her and wrapping her up in his arms.
“And what if I’m . . . starving?” she asked.
Lightly tugging her wet hair so that she tipped up her face, he kissed her. A soft hello at first, which quickly turned into something else entirely. “Tell me now if you meant for food,” he said huskily.
“I didn’t mean for food,” she said and tugged him to the couch.
He sank into the cushions, pulling her to stand between his spread thighs. And then, holding her gaze in his, he unwrapped her from the throw like he was unwrapping a most precious gift.
When the throw hit the floor, he let out a low groan at the sight of her. “You take my breath,” he murmured in that voice that removed the knees from her legs. Cupping her bare ass in his hands, he urged her a little closer, taking his hot, wet, talented mouth on a tour. When he added his wickedly clever and diabolical fingers, she gasped and spread her legs to give him better access, which he took in such an erotic, sensual measure that she gasped again. “My legs . . . I can’t stand.”
His mouth busy at her breast, he tugged her so that she fell into him, arranging her so that she was straddling him, the inside of her thighs hugged up to the outside of his. And when he spread his wide, hers went with them.
“Please,” she whispered, rocking into him, not even sure what she was asking. “Oh, please . . .”
Luckily he seemed to be able to read her mind because he pulled a condom from his pocket and handed it to her while he unbuttoned and unzipped and freed his essentials.
And goodness, his essentials.
She knew he liked slow and thorough to the point of torture, but she needed him now, so she rolled on the condom, rose up on her knees, and sank down over him.
His hands went to her hips, his fingers digging as his head went back, his eyes closing as he swore roughly beneath his breath. She knew exactly what he was feeling, because she was feeling it too, and it was so delicious, so . . . perfect, she needed more. So she began to move, wrenching some more low, reverent swearing from deep in his throat.
“You feel so good, Ivy. Too good. You’ve got to slow down or it’ll be over before—”
She didn’t slow down. She couldn’t help it. There was something unbelievably erotic about being completely nude while he was sti
ll fully dressed. Still, she shoved up his shirt, because . . . well, abs. Watching them crunch and quiver every time she rose and fell on him was like a drug.
His hands gripping her hips, he slowed her rhythm, drawing out their pleasure in the way only he could, since he was the only one of them with any patience at all. When his head went back his eyes closed again, making a low sound of pleasure deep in his chest. She could ride this man forever, she thought. His hands were everywhere, stroking over her body, rubbing her lazily until she came with a shudder. After, he drew her down until she was low enough to kiss him, and tangling his hands in her hair, he sucked on her tongue as she moved.
“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered against her mouth. “I could stare at you forever.”
Shockingly moved by his words, her hips stuttered to a halt, ripping a groan from him.
“Don’t stop, God don’t stop,” he said roughly, his eyes glowing fiercely as his hands found her hips again, thrusting up to meet her. He felt so good, and his face when he came . . . well, she lost it again at the intensity.
Watching him recover was almost as good as the sex. When his breath returned to normal and his eyes cleared, he pressed one of her hands to his still thundering heart as he’d done once before. “If I tell you something,” he murmured, “are you going to freak out?”
Her stomach tightened with nerves. “Of course not.” Totally. She was totally going to freak out.
“I like you.” He watched her face carefully, so she had to work at keeping it even. “A lot, Ivy.”
The words both thrilled and terrified, and she bit her lower lip.
“What?” he asked.
“There’s a big difference between liking the idea of someone and actually liking who they are,” she whispered.
“I like both. Come here, Trouble, and let me give you my oral argument.”
With a snort, she tugged her hand free.
Kel laughed and tucked her close before rolling her beneath him. And then he slid down her body and proceeded to give her the best oral argument she’d ever had.
It was another hour before Kel got around to cooking. Cooking. As in honest to God standing in her kitchen like he owned it, cooking her steak and baked potatoes.
“Wow,” she murmured, once again wearing nothing but his shirt. She loved that he wore button-downs. She loved pulling up the collar and pressing her nose to the material so she could inhale his lingering scent.
She’d clearly lost her mind.
Kel, in nothing but low slung jeans, squatted down, balancing on the balls of his bare feet to check the potatoes he had in the oven. “You keep saying wow. It’s good for a man’s ego.” Rising, he turned to the toaster because he was making cheesy bread too. His index finger repeatedly pushed down the level of the toaster.
Brushing his hand aside, she slammed the lever down, forcing it to stay in place. “It’s temperamental.”
“Like its owner.”
She sent him a long watch-it-buddy look over her shoulder and he smiled like the big bad wolf, making good spots quiver. “And for clarification, I was saying wow because the steaks smell amazing and I’m ravenous,” she said, hopping up onto the old Formica to sit cross-legged.
His dark eyes met hers. His hair was a mess thanks to her fingers, and he seemed to have bite marks on his neck and shoulder. Oops. “Okay,” she admitted. “It’s not the steak. It’s you.”
He rose and expertly flipped the steaks. “Yeah?”
“To be honest, no one’s ever cooked for me before.”
He stopped and looked at her in surprise. “Never?”
She gave a slow shake of her head.
He set down the tongs and came to her, pulling her legs from beneath her so that they hung off the edge of the counter. Putting his hands on her thighs, he pressed them open, making a home for himself in between.
Then he kissed her. Long and deep and so sensually that she tried to get into his jeans again, but with a low husky laugh, he caught her hands.
“Didn’t think a man as sexy as you would need such a long recovery time,” she teased.
“Believe me, I’m recovered. But I’m going to feed you first.”
She rocked into the proof that he’d indeed recovered. Fully. “I know something I could nibble on,” she murmured huskily, but her stomach chose that moment to ruin the moment by rumbling, loudly.
Kel grinned. “Steak first.” He gave her a hard, promising kiss and then he turned his back on her to return to the food. Which was when she saw the nail indentions on his back.
She sucked in a breath. “I hurt you. I’m sorry.”
He pulled the steaks and plated them, adding the potatoes. “You didn’t hurt me.”
“But—”
He met her gaze. “I’ve been numb for a very long time, Ivy. I’m not numb tonight. Actually, I haven’t been numb since the morning I met you, when you gave me that sweet sass at your taco truck, not to mention the best tacos of my entire life. I knew going in you had claws, but that’s okay. I don’t mind rough, and I don’t mind pain if it means I’m feeling again.”
Her mouth opened and then closed.
He gave her a half smile. “Did I just render you speechless?”
“I . . .” She shook her head, unbearably touched at his admission. “Yes, but don’t worry, it won’t last long.” She shook her head again to clear it. “I’ve also never had a guy be so open and honest before.”
He set the two plates on her tiny table and came for her, scooping her up and plopping her into one of the chairs. “Nothing personal, Ivy, but the men in your life have all been assholes.”
She choked out a laugh. “Yeah. Maybe. Mostly.”
He’d already poured wine. Handing her one of the glasses, he gently touched his to hers.
She held her breath, afraid he was going to say something too deep, too meaningful, and she felt panic seize her by the throat.
“To more stormy nights,” he murmured, gaze on hers.
She let out her breath and felt warmth glide through her. Warmth that he’d given her and other emotions beat back the panic. Affection. Desire . . .
“To more stormy nights,” she agreed.
Chapter 20
When the going gets tough, what would Tina do?
The next day Kel was doing a walk-through of the new condo building. Caleb was with him and they were checking the plans to the actual build. Or at least that’s what Kel was doing.
Caleb was fishing. “So. You and Ivy . . . ?”
Kel ignored this. They were on the fifth floor and Kel was taking notes on his iPad.
His silence apparently amused Caleb. “You’re just not going to answer?”
“I wasn’t aware that you’d asked a question.” He stopped to do a radio check with his security team. Arlo was on the ground floor, Stretch in the basement.
Kel put away his radio while Caleb did a very impressive eye roll, which Kel had no doubt his cousin had learned from being raised by a mom and three sisters he lovingly referred to as The Coven.
“Your avoidance tendencies are top-of-the-line,” Caleb said. “You and Ivy?”
Honestly? Kel wasn’t sure what was going on, except that whatever it was, it was good. Very good.
“Okay, let me reword,” Caleb said. “What do you want to be going on with Ivy?”
When Kel shook his head because he honestly didn’t know how to answer, his cousin met his gaze. “Look, I know you’ve been burned, but it only takes one good one. You know that, right?”
“Ivy’s got enough going on in her life, I don’t intend to complicate it, or risk hurting her. Plus, I’m temporary, so . . .”
Caleb “coughed” and said “bullshit” at the same time. “You want to know what I think?”
“No.”
“I think that you think you’re a risk in the love game.”
“I am a risk.”
Caleb shook his head. “Just because you’ve had a few bad experiences doesn’t ma
ke you a risk. And trust me, women are tougher than us. They can handle our shit. And if you don’t think so, think about this—they take showers with the water temperature set to the exploding sun, by choice. She can handle your shit, man. Unless you’re not interested anymore.”
Kel knew two things with certainty. One, he was shockingly interested. And two, from the moment he woke up until the moment he went to sleep, he thought of her. And yeah, okay, much of that was actually daydreaming about how it’d felt to be buried deep inside her, her warm body wrapped around his, panting his name like maybe no one had ever made her feel as good as he had.
But the majority of it involved more than just their physical attraction. Ivy had presented as a closed book, a tough front against the world. But from the night he’d found her after the truck break-in, after those long dark hours they’d spent in the close quarters of her working space cleaning up the mess and talking, things had changed.
He’d seen a side of her, a vulnerable side that he was getting loud and clear that she hadn’t allowed anyone else to see. It worried him, how she was surrounded by a close-knit group of wonderful people, and yet she still held herself apart. And she did it in such a way that none of them had seemed to even realize it.
What would happen when he left? Would she go back to being an island? Hell, who was he kidding, she was still an island. Although . . . she’d trusted him to help her. She’d trusted him in bed . . . and in her shower. And on her counter . . .
But the way she tended to almost accidentally reveal some of her hard-knock past . . . it never failed to grab him by the heart and soul. The fact that she’d never had any sort of authority figure in her life, and that her brother seemed to screw with her life at every turn, and yet she’d still turned out as amazing as she had was nothing short of a miracle and a true testament to her strength and tenacity.
Growing up, he’d had his dad early on, as well as his grandpa, and he and Caleb had always been a team. He’d had people who had his back, who’d help him bury the bodies if he needed. Anything.