by J. H. Croix
Ginger’s snort brought Ivy back to the moment. She looked up to find Ginger grinning. “Well, I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m guessing after your night with Owen last weekend, things are a tad less tense around the office.”
Since she was staying with Ginger and Cam, Ivy had felt like she had to tell them she had plans last weekend. She hadn’t wanted to get into the details with Cam, so she’d sworn Ginger to secrecy. Ivy met Ginger’s laughing gaze with a shrug and a flush. “They are. Anyway, work is great. I’m learning to love how much flexibility we have there. We have a prototype assembly team on site, so whenever we think a design is ready to test, it’s sent out right away. I’ve already gotten to see the results for some modifications I suggested on the battery project.”
Ginger was gracious enough to ask a few questions and before Ivy knew it, she was carrying on about technical details. She looked over to see Ginger’s eyes glazing over and stopped mid-sentence. “I’m sorry,” she said with a rueful smile. “I get caught up when I’m talking about stuff like this. I know it can be a little boring for most people.”
Ginger laughed softly as she stood and turned on the oven. She pulled a bottle of wine off the rack on the wall before grabbing two wineglasses and carrying them to the table. “I admit I lose track of the details, mostly because it’s way above my head. I bet Owen follows along just fine,” she said with a wink as she poured Ivy a glass of wine and spun back to put a casserole pan in the oven.
Ivy couldn’t help but smile at Ginger’s comment. Talking to Owen was like foreplay and not because they were actually flirting. She took a sip of wine and watched while Ginger puttered around the kitchen, prepping a salad and checking on the casserole. Ginger and Cam had acquiesced to Ivy’s offer to take care of cleaning and laundry every weekend. Ginger waved her away whenever Ivy offered to make dinner. Ivy considered herself a serviceable cook, but Ginger’s cooking was sublime, so Ivy figured it was a win for all of them. Ivy’s phone buzzed on the table. She picked it up and answered it, carefully sliding George off her lap as she stepped out of the kitchen.
“Hello?”
“Hello Ivy.”
Dr. Parkhurst’s voice was instantly recognizable. She’d liked to have forgotten the sound of his voice, but she hadn’t. Her stomach coiled with dread. She forced herself to take a deep breath and considered hanging up. She wouldn’t cower though. It had taken all of her nerve to report his harassment. Now that she was no longer under his thumb, she wasn’t going to let him scare her.
“You’re not supposed to contact me,” she said flatly.
“Ah, Ivy.” He actually tsk-tsked her before continuing. “This is simply a friendly phone call, an olive branch. I’m sorry for the misunderstandings between us and wanted to call and wish you well. I hear great things about your work at Owen Manning’s firm.”
Her mind spun. She didn’t know what Dr. Parkhurst wanted out of contacting her, but it was something. It wouldn’t surprise her to learn he hoped to connect himself to Off the Grid somehow. It would be a channel of funding and projects he could tag his name onto. Even though Dr. Parkhurst’s position was secure, his arrogance and need for attention was endless. Ivy took another slow breath and reminded herself the less she interacted with him, the better. “I’ll reiterate: you’re not supposed to contact me. There’s an active investigation. Please don’t call me.”
At that, she pulled her phone away and tapped the screen closed. Her heart was pounding and not in the good way. She’d forgotten the sick anxiety and tension he elicited. She’d lived with it for a year before deciding she couldn’t tolerate it anymore. She walked to the windows looking out over the bay, her arms wrapped across her waist. She concentrated on breathing slowly as she stared out over the water. The days were gradually lengthening. The transition from the dark days of winter to spring here in Alaska was more dramatic than in Utah. However, both places shared the sense of burgeoning energy as the darkness of winter was overtaken by light. Snow still covered the peaks of the mountains across the water and the air was cold every day, but Ivy could feel spring coming. A raven called from a tree on the bluff behind the house, another raven returning the call. The sun was falling down the sky, about to slip behind the mountains, leaving a watercolor of pink and lavender in its wake.
Her heart slowly eased its nervous pounding, and she managed to take several deep breaths, yet her stomach held onto the sick feeling. Dr. Parkhurst made her feel yucky. That was the only word she could come up with. With another deep breath, she returned to the kitchen. Ginger was in the middle of opening the oven to put in a loaf of buttered garlic bread. She closed it and turned as Ivy was sitting down. Much as Ivy wished she could mask the expression on her face, she couldn’t muster it just now.
“Are you okay?” Ginger asked, her eyes scanning Ivy’s face as tossed the oven mitt on the counter and sat down across from Ivy.
Ivy tried to shrug and smile, but it wobbled. She grabbed her wineglass and took a gulp. “That was Dr. Parkhurst. I swear, if I never hear that man’s voice again, I’ll be happy.”
Ginger’s eyes widened. “What the hell? What did he want?”
Ivy shrugged. “I have no idea. He said something about an olive branch and hearing great things about my work with Owen.” She leaned her head in her hands and closed her eyes. “He makes me so sick. I hate that he can still get to me, and I feel so stupid. I mean, he was nothing more than a creepy jerk, but he was always throwing his weight around and dropping hints about how he could make or break my career.” She lifted her head and took another sip of wine. “What if he tries to mess things up here for me?”
Ginger’s eyes were practically shooting knives. “No! He can’t touch you here. He’s just being shitty and trying to fix things. Call HR at the university and tell them he contacted you. He’s not even supposed to call, right?”
Ivy shrugged. “I don’t know. I mean, when I was officially employed there, once I filed the complaint, he was under orders not to contact me. It was horrible trying to work knowing he was nearby. I don’t get how it works now that I left. They told me as long as the investigation was active, he’s supposed to leave me alone, but it’s not like it really matters. This is just a stupid HR complaint, nothing criminal.” She gave her head a sharp shake. “I can’t even think about him. I moved on.”
Ginger’s eyes coasted over her, and she reached across the table to squeeze Ivy’s hand. “You did. You’re long gone from there, and you don’t need to worry about him. Promise me you’ll let us know if he keeps calling.”
Ivy swallowed against the tight feeling in her chest and nodded. “I will.”
Ginger released her hand and leaned back in her chair. “Just remember you don’t need to worry about him anymore. Okay?”
Ivy managed a nod, but she still felt slightly queasy. She was relieved when the front door opened at that moment and Cam stepped through. George bounced from his perch by the window to Cam’s feet, and Ginger spun in her chair to call out a greeting.
Later that night, Ivy curled on her side and looked out into the darkness. Stars glittered in the sky. Clouds drifted in front of the moon, smudging the light falling across the water. She couldn’t shake her restlessness and rolled over onto her back, staring at the dark ceiling. With a sigh, she fumbled on the nightstand and grabbed her phone. Propping herself up on the pillows, she started playing a word game. She’d been out of sorts ever since that stupid phone call earlier. Once she’d gotten over the sick feeling, she’d swung to anger. When she managed to stop dwelling on that, she wanted to see Owen, which made her feel unsettled and vulnerable.
This whole thing they were doing was supposed to be neat and tidy, compartmentalized to sex and burning out the crazy hot chemistry between them. It wasn’t supposed to include her wishing she could hear his voice because he made her smile and somehow made her feel protected. Not that she needed protecting from anyone, but Dr. Parkhurst had spent over a year threatening her career if she did
n’t give into what he wanted. Finally getting out from under his thumb had been such a relief, she forgot how bad it felt. No matter what Ginger said, Dr. Parkhurst still could make things difficult for her in the field. He had too much influence in the field of engineering and more specifically in the realm of sustainable energy. He might not be able to get her fired or interfere with her work directly, but he could drop a few hints here and there and create questions about her work.
Ivy kept playing her word game and fighting the urge to text Owen. After a few more minutes, she swore and gave in. He probably wasn’t even awake, so it wouldn’t even matter.
Hey.
She’d keep it basic, so he wouldn’t think she was being weird if he were even awake to read it. Before she switched back to the game screen, her phone vibrated in her hand.
Hey there. Shouldn’t you be asleep?
She smiled and wiggled her toes.
Maybe, but I’m not. Shouldn’t you be asleep?
She could see his smile right now. Just thinking about the corner of his mouth curling up sent flutters spinning in her belly.
I’m usually up late working. You?
She thought about saying she was working, but she didn’t really feel like it.
Can’t sleep. Playing Spellsage instead.
Ah. Good to know your word game of choice. I’m a fan too. You okay?
Shrug. Just some stuff.
Stuff?
Too much to explain in a text.
Hmm. Later?
Maybe. Anyway, how r u? Too busy this afternoon to say hi.
She’d been tied up in a planning meeting with the battery team, while Owen had been holed up in his office with Derek. Owen had been true to his word and eased away from leading the battery project team once she had a good sense of where they were at with the various designs. As such, she didn’t encounter him as often throughout the day.
I’ll stop in first thing tomorrow.
Okay.
She sat there, wondering what else to say and feeling kind of silly.
‘Spose you should try to get some sleep?
That’s the idea. Not so sure Spellsage will do the trick.
I know what would.
Four simple words, and she squeezed her knees together, trying to quell the throb of desire. It was getting ridiculous how easily he affected her. They’d only had one night together, and it appeared to have made things far worse.
That would definitely do the trick. Too bad we can’t do anything about it.
Sure we can. Tell me how wet you are.
Ivy’s eyes widened, and she gasped, reflexively glancing around as if someone might notice. She was alone in the darkness of her bedroom with nothing but the stars to see. She stared at his words. Her pulse raced, her belly clenched, and she was drenched. She couldn’t quite believe it, but she couldn’t reel herself in and stop this.
Very.
Good. Take your panties off.
She didn’t even consider not obeying and quickly lifted her hips and shimmied out of her panties, kicking them to the side under the covers. He beat her to her reply.
Okay, now lick one finger for me.
Not an ounce of hesitation from her. She drew her forefinger into her mouth and swirled her tongue around it, imagining the feel of his hard cock in her mouth as she did.
He seemed to be tracking the time, just the thing he would do.
Now, drag it back and forth. You know where.
With her heart beating wildly and searing need gripping her, she dragged her finger back and forth through her folds. She was so wet, it had been entirely unnecessary for her to bother with anything else. Her hips bucked into her hand. Just as she was about to slide her finger into her channel, her phone buzzed. She dragged her eyes open and looked down.
Not yet. Spread your knees wider. Tell me how wet you are.
With her knees splayed wide and teetering on the edge of an orgasm, she managed to type a reply with one hand.
Soaked. Can’t keep waiting.
She could feel his grin—a dark, naughty grin.
Fine. One finger inside.
She bit her lip to keep from crying out. Her channel throbbed around her finger as she stroked in and out. With her phone resting on her low belly, she felt the vibration of it when he sent another message. She looked down.
Another.
Obedient again, she let a second finger join the first, a low moan escaping when she did. Her hips were rolling into her hand, and she could see his bright blue eyes in her mind and recall the feel of him stretching and filling her. Her phone buzzed again.
Now.
She gave in, pressed her thumb over her clit and cried out, her channel clenching around her fingers. Her head fell back against the pillows, her breath coming in deep gusts. Her body slowly relaxed and a smile spread across her face. Her phone buzzed again, and she picked it up.
Sleep tight.
Chapter 12
Owen stood in front of the windows in his office, yet again staring out over the view. The sky, mountains and water offered shades of gray this morning. He’d come in early, not unusual for him. Ivy’s late night text message had caught him at a weak moment. Well, if he was being honest, anything to do with her made him weak. He’d had to find his own release last night, a purely practical matter. He’d awoken this morning, rock hard with need and Ivy on the brain. Refusing to give in again because he knew it wouldn’t satiate him, he’d showered and driven the short distance to the office.
He was restless and irritable and couldn’t stop looking through his door, wondering when he’d see her walking down the hallway. With a muttered curse, he turned away from the window and forced himself to try to focus. He managed to get through a few emails from Joan about finances and the mundane details about changes to the company’s health plan offering when he heard footsteps coming down the tiled hallway. A glance up gave him a view of Derek striding toward his office. He swatted away the disappointment he felt at not seeing Ivy and waved Derek into his office.
Derek immediately strode to his worktable and spun a computer screen around. He wasn’t one to bother with preliminaries when he wanted to work. Within moments, they were deep into a discussion about data coming in from various test designs. Owen finally managed to get his mind off of Ivy. The morning passed quickly between his meeting with Derek, Joan stopping by and forcing him to review the health plan information and several calls from the assembly team. After hanging up the phone from another call, he glanced up at the clock above his door to find it was close to noon, and he hadn’t seen Ivy yet.
The moment she strolled into his thoughts, he had to see her. He walked quickly to her office and saw it was empty. Her coat was thrown on the back of her chair, so he figured she was somewhere in the building. He actually had to order himself not to go looking for her. His grand plan to keep his out-of-control, raging lust for her in a tidy corner of his life wasn’t working out so well. He spun on his heel and returned to his office. He could spend all day plowing through emails, which he usually avoided. For now, it seemed like the perfect activity to keep him occupied. As he cruised through, responding and deleting the wall of emails, something clicked in the back of his mind when he saw an email address for the engineering program where Ivy had done her doctoral work and stayed on the faculty afterwards.
He scrolled down and clicked on the email. It had been sent yesterday and was from Dr. Parkhurst. Owen knew Dr. Parkhurst in passing, and he’d found him to be grating in person. He’d been a lead engineer on some of the original solar designs back in the early days of development and remained a leader in the field, although he hadn’t conducted or published any new research in over a decade. In the field of engineering, that was a damn long time. He still held sway mostly because he made a show of himself at various annual conferences. Owen scanned the email, Ivy’s name jumping out as if it had been typed in neon. Dr. Parkhurst was inquiring as to how Ivy was adjusting and offering consultation to Off the G
rid if needed.
A few sentences made Owen want to punch the man. “Ms. Nash is quite brilliant, but she has yet to develop the confidence she needs. Without my support, it’s not likely her research papers would have passed muster. I’d be happy to consult on projects with her as needed if you find she could use additional expertise.” Owen read the words several times, his blood pressure rising with each pass. He fought the urge to type a dismissive reply. What the hell was Parkhurst after? Owen’s mind spun back to the comment Cam had made about the chair at Ivy’s department being an old creeper. He was familiar with Parkhurst, but didn’t know his actual role on the faculty. He quickly looked it up, his stomach clenching with anger to see Parkhurst listed as the Engineering Department Chair. Dear God. The man was old enough to be Ivy’s father and potentially her grandfather, and he was the jerk who went after her.
He was seething inside and stood abruptly. He started to move toward Ivy’s office again and forced himself to stop. What the hell could he say to her about this? She hadn’t shared any of this with him and was likely beyond relieved to have left Parkhurst in the dust. An intense need to protect her, to make sure she knew he wouldn’t let Parkhurst anywhere near her or her career, and to somehow make amends for the whole shitty situation rose within him. He turned to the windows again, staring out into the gray day, the foreboding sky a match for his mood. It looked like snow was on the way.
He stared out for several moments, pondering what he could do to make Parkhurst pay and to get him to back the hell off once and for all. He mostly came up empty at the moment because everything he wanted involved punching Parkhurst in the face. While Owen wasn’t above that, he knew Ivy wouldn’t appreciate the attention that might draw. Not to mention, Parkhurst was thousands of miles away. Much as he itched to type a blistering reply about how little Ivy needed anyone’s support for her research, he knew the most stinging response for Parkhurst would be none. Not because of him hoping to link himself to Ivy again somehow, but because it would chafe at him to be ignored by Owen. He sought adulation from other engineers who had any publicity attached to them. Owen didn’t put much stock in public attention, but he knew he had it, so it would bite Parkhurst for him to not even bother with a reply.