by Red Garnier
They lay in an almost comatose state for probably an hour, panting and entangled, occasionally kissing, slowly at first, with gratitude, and then, a particularly long, languorous kiss once more rekindled them like wildfire.
After they’d fucked a third time on the carpet, Cade carried her tiredly to his bed. Ivy lay on her side, every inch of her body sore and aware of him—of his body, curled against her backside. The press of his lips against the nape of her neck, barely there. His warm breath stirring the hair there. His smell of autumn, earthy and warm. The heat that emanated from his body. The curve of his arm around her waist, his large male body spooning the back of her smaller frame.
His chest rose and fell against her, and she felt safe, so safe, for a moment she forgot that for the past few months, she had been so scared.
No one had ever made her feel so protected, but tonight, this night, it was as if nothing could touch her but this man whose caress she wanted more than anything. And for the first time in months, Ivy Summers could sleep.
* * *
Cade woke up to the sound of the doorbell. Groggily, he sat up in bed and glared at the clock. Nine a.m. He hadn’t planned to appear in his office today, and since he was the boss, everyone could just as well screw it. Still, he couldn’t imagine who would ever visit him. People usually knew better than to annoy him.
He turned to Ivy, blond hair tangled all over her head, her arms draped over her pillow, and that strange emotion in his chest came back with a vengeance.
He impulsively kissed her forehead, then he slipped on a pair of pajama bottoms and padded down the hall to open the door.
“Ever heard of charging your phone?”
Cade scowled at Luke Preston, a good friend, and a damn handful. Not to mention, he always had a mouthful of shit to say.
“What the fuck do you want, Preston?” He moved to his kitchen to put on some coffee while Luke invited himself inside and shut the door, his diamond earrings glinting in the morning light.
Cade turned on his cappuccino machine. He could hire people to do this shit, but their presence disturbed him. He was not a big people person. “If I didn’t take your call, asshole, then I sure as hell am less inclined to take your visit,” he told Luke past his shoulder.
His friend was surveying his kitchen as if for clues. “We’ve been speculating on the reason you missed poker night for the first time in, oh, roughly ten years.”
“Speculate away.”
“There’s money involved.”
Cade cocked a brow. “How much?”
“A hundred K. Daniel says you were at work. Graves says you can’t stand my fuckface anymore. And I say…” He peered in the direction of the hall, where all was still and quiet, then nodded at the basket full of fresh vegetables on the center of the kitchen island. “I say you finally broke your ten-year celibacy streak and were fucking. So. Am I right or am I right?”
Cade wasn’t about to tell one damned whit to Luke, but then he heard Genghis pad down the hall, and by the little shuffles behind him, Cade bet his ass Ivy was following.
She appeared in his line of vision, draped in one of his white dress shirts. It looked huge on her, reaching way past her knees, and something happened when he saw her.
Holy shit, it was like she belonged to him. He wanted to protect her and coddle her and kiss her and screw the breath out of her, all in the same heartbeat.
Realizing Luke Preston stared at her with widening blue eyes made Cade itch to smack his fists into his friend’s face. Luke’s expression wasn’t lecherous, by any means, but Cade could just not bare to see how any living, breathing man could look at honey-haired, honey-colored Ivy and not want to bang her brains off.
“Good morning,” she said, smiling at them both, especially at Cade. His heart swelled like an overinflated helium balloon.
“Well, well, well, Cade’s got himself a kitten,” Luke drawled, patting the dog’s head when he went over to sniff him. “Hey, Genghis Khan, are these two holding sex marathons every hour or what?”
Cade set a bowl with food down for Genghis, and was about to snap at his friend to mind his own billion-dollar business, but Luke had already straightened to stretch a hand out to Ivy. “I’m Luke, a very good friend of this asshole.” He grinned. And she grinned back.
“I’m Ivy. It’s nice to meet you, Luke.”
“Let me guess? You’re Cade’s girlfriend? Don’t ask me how I know, I just know things,” the infantile, stuck-in-sixth-grade Luke said.
Cade wanted to point out perhaps he suspected she was his “girlfriend” because this was the first woman he’d brought to his apartment in ten years, but he actually found himself waiting, while his lungs held back his air, to hear Ivy’s reply.
Well? Was she?
“Oh, no.” She laughed, the sound a little raspy in the morning, which made Cade remember his bedroom and everything they’d done there last night. “I’m just a…” Her eyes flicked to Cade’s, then back to Luke. “Just a friend.”
Clearly Luke wasn’t buying it. He was a connoisseur, after all. Especially of women. “Friend? With benefits?” Luke prodded.
Cade glowered. He was not so modern as to have a friend with benefits. Ivy was his lover. Hell, she was just his. Period.
But she seemed to have other ideas.
“Not even that,” Ivy said, shrugging nonchalantly. “I’m his plaything. Isn’t that fun?”
“Loads of fun, baby. I have a plaything of my own. Her name is Peyton. Do you want to meet her?” Luke pulled up a picture from his iPhone.
Cade was instantly at Ivy’s side, not sure whether Luke’s iPhone pictures of his lady were way too pornographic or not, but then he peered down and saw Luke’s lady and remembered he’d already seen this picture. She was dark and pretty and, frankly, she was an angel to put up with this dude.
“She’s beautiful,” Ivy murmured. When Cade set his hands on her hips, she leaned back against him and turned her head into his neck, her voice dropping for him. “Would you like me to make some breakfast for you two? I was about to make my shake anyway.”
Cade’s groin heated when he saw her lips were so close, and suddenly he didn’t give a shit. He brushed them with his own, then found himself licking her while he gave her ass a little squeeze.
“Ahhh! She cooks!” Luke said, jerking them back to look at him. “A homey little kitten. What an interesting woman you are, Ivy.”
“She’s not cooking for you,” Cade growled. “Man, don’t you have anything else to do than ogle other people’s playthings?”
“No worries, dude. I’m too in love with mine.” He lifted his phone and took a picture of Cade standing just beside Ivy. “The guys will love this. Sorry, but I needed proof—otherwise no one would even believe there’s a woman on this earth willing to spend time with merry little you, Cade. Now I’m one hundred K richer and it’s only nine fifteen. Not bad for a slow day.”
“Don’t come back, Luke.”
His friend laughed. “Invite me to the wedding!” he called before the door slammed shut.
Cade fell quiet as Ivy busily prepared her vegetable drink, her legs lean and slender under his buttoned shirt. He watched as she added all kinds of vegetables to his blender, the finished product looking green and disgusting. While it stirred, she’d put some bacon and eggs on for Cade, which smelled far, far more appetizing.
He scowled when she poured her green shit drink into a tall glass. “That shake is the most disgusting thing I’ve seen.”
Her lips curved. “Good thing you’re not drinking it, then.” She lifted it to her lips, took a sip, then her slim eyebrows drew together in thought as she handed it over. “Try it.”
“Like hell.”
“Truly, it’s really good. Tastes like mango. A sweet fruit eliminates all the spinach and broccoli flavors.”
“I’ll taste it from you,” he said, as he slid a hand to the small of her back and ducked to kiss her, relaxing when her mouth opened on his. He edged
back to look into her eyes, which had darkened with want. “You’re right, it is good,” he murmured, lifting her up on the counter with one arm.
She set aside her glass and turned off the stove knobs as the bacon sizzled nearby. “You taste better,” she murmured, sliding her hands up to his nape and letting him sip up all that mango taste from her mouth.
And that was just his appetizer.
* * *
The days went by in a state of constant, heart-pounding, pulse-jacking arousal. They played strip poker again, except this time in their opening bets, they fed each other wine, grapes, and chocolate. When they lost … they had to remove an article of clothing.
“These stay on,” Ivy once against insisted of her bra and panties.
Cade smirked. “Sooner or later, they’re going to come off.”
Well she’d rather leave it at later, much later, otherwise she’d be too self-conscious.
But, oh, Lord, every time Cade came over to feed her mouth, he’d duck his head and take a sip of what he fed her, and she melted just like the chocolate melted in her mouth. Her pussy got juicier than the grapes. And his taste got her more drunk than the wine.
She had never had such torturous foreplay. They kissed until they ended up gasping for more, then they played another hand, surveying each other’s bodies, savoring telling each other what they would do when they were finished. Whoever won got to choose the punishment for the loser. But seriously? Punishment? Licking Cade up? Eating him up? Goodness, she was really hoping to lose this time around, he had her so primed.
Every time Cade dealt new cards, he watched her, his eyelids half-mast, his voice rough. “I’m going to lick my way up your pretty little legs with my tongue…” He did the procedure with his eyes, and her pussy creamed at the prospect. “And when I get up to those panties, I’m going to pull them aside and get drunk on you.”
Ivy squirmed, panting and anxious. When the game was finally over, she crawled over to him across the carpet like she had the first night, coiling her limbs around him as she settled down on his lap, facing him. “What’s my punishment?” she said, her chest heaving.
“Me,” he answered huskily, his big hands engulfing and massaging her ass as he took her mouth with his and kissed her. They had awesome groan-out-loud, excruciatingly pleasurable sex in that seated position, where he got his cock incredibly deep inside her, hitting her G-spot, making Ivy explode several times in a row.
On Friday, they left his apartment to grab some Chinese food, and it felt strange and wonderful when he parked his car, came over to open her door, and grabbed her hand to walk her into the restaurant. He did the same when he parked in his own spot, then led her into his building. The gesture affected her so much, Ivy felt her blush spread all over her body, and she had to drop her face and cover her cheeks with her hair.
She was sure nothing and nobody could pull her away from Cade as long as he would have her, and since he’d decided to enjoy a vacation from work until Monday, she felt like they were honeymooners—except there had never been a wedding.
All they did was lounge around, eat, eat each other, fuck each other breathless, and talk in the dark.
She had never been happier and dreaded the time when reality would intrude on them both.
Today it was Saturday, and Ivy lounged around in her panties and top, watching Cade step out of the shower and wrap himself in a towel. A pang of yearning struck her in the chest, and she wished she had the confidence to get naked and in the shower with him. She’d almost started to feel sorry for herself when she noticed the text message from one of her friends.
The news wasn’t good. Ivy immediately started dressing.
“Cade, I should go. One of my friends … it’s really bad. She was diagnosed at stage four and now she’s … in her last. I just want to say good-bye.”
He stared at her for way longer than she expected, then he burst out laughing—not a happy laugh. He jammed his hands into his hair, looking very frustrated all of a sudden. “My God! I’m going to hear about cancer every day with you, aren’t I? Why the fuck do you have to befriend everyone who has it, Ivy?”
She shot him a furious scowl. She’d seen beneath the layers, and Cade was so much better than this, she wanted to slap him. But she also knew his anger was a survival mechanism, as was distance, a pretense of not caring. She tried to calm her voice. “I want to be there because she shouldn’t be alone. I wasn’t there for my mother, Cade, and now it’s eating at me. She died all alone. Because I was in college and obsessed with being a graphic design artist, and obsessed with graduating with honors. She died that morning alone in the hospital because I just couldn’t miss my classes. I couldn’t even say good-bye to her one last time. What kind of loser daughter do you think I feel like now?”
He turned away and angrily combed his wet hair, then whirled around. “I said good-bye a thousand times to Laura. You think it gets better if you do?”
Ivy’s heart cracked a little when he mentioned her. Did it mean that he trusted her now? Her insides moved at the thought, and her face softened at the tormented look in his eyes.
She took his comb from the sink, hopped onto the small ottoman, and slid it through his dark locks, watching the thick, glossy wet strands sift beneath the comb teeth. “Let go,” she whispered, in his ear. “It wasn’t your fault, none of this is anyone’s fault.”
He reached up to take the comb away, then set it down on the sink and glared down at the closed faucet. “She didn’t deserve to die that way. I was the bad one, the asshole; she was good. She died a … virgin. She’d always saved herself for marriage and I … went with it. In the end, we had to marry in a rush when she found out she was sick, stage four … I couldn’t even touch her like she wanted me to. I couldn’t even … do that for her.”
Ivy slid off the ottoman, and a barrage of raw emotions opened in her chest as she realized why he was so angry. And at whom.
“She wanted me to have sex with her,” he said through gritted teeth, glaring down into the sink, his arms bulging and straining as he braced himself on the marble. “She wanted to know what it felt like. And after all those years I’d been waiting like an idiot, settling for a hand job, I could not even … get … my … cock … to work!”
Ivy slid her fingers up the back of his arm, the pull to touch him, comfort him, too strong to resist. Cade was such a sexual man, she couldn’t imagine his frustration at the time. But sickness took so many things from you, even when you weren’t the sick one. It took so many things, things you never even appreciate when you’re all right.
“Cade, people cope differently. Survival mechanisms kick in and things don’t run so smoothly. Sometimes we close up and our bodies don’t do what we’d like them to. I saw you there every day. Every day.” She lifted her head and held his gaze in the mirror, which had risen up in search of hers. “Everybody talked about how … sweet you were. How devoted. I wished if I ever had a husband, I would have one like you.”
His face twisted. “I couldn’t even make love to my own wife, Ivy.”
She melted for him, stroking her hands soothingly up his taut, muscled back. “But she knew you loved her, Cade. She had to have known that.” She slid a hand upward and turned his head sideways until he looked at her. “And I know from experience that you do make love.”
He turned away, his gaze downcast. “I fuck, Ivy. We—just—fuck.”
Her heart stuttered for a tiny second, but she wouldn’t let it hurt. She wouldn’t.
This was exactly what she’d signed up for. The only thing she’d allow herself to get.
“If you’re trying to hurt me, it won’t work, Cade. I happen to like the way you fuck me very much. We’re just playing with each other, right?”
He groaned as he whipped around and snatched her against him, cupping the back of her head and pressing her jaw to his chest. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize.”
“I’ll go with you.”
“
No! You’re too grumpy with my friends.”
“I’ll behave.”
She laughed. “Cade, I’ll be back to say good-bye before I leave Monday. She lives near my apartment, so I’ll pack my bags and leave straight from here early Monday morning.”
“No, damn it, I’ll go with you. I can see some of my friends when you see yours, and I can sleep at your place.”
The excitement she felt was so powerful, alarm bells began clinging all around her. “Cade. You know, we’ve been together too many days and I don’t want to get attached to you.”
He slicked his hair back and covered the scruff of his beard with shaving cream. “I’m not attached to you. I’m playing with you, remember?”
The act of watching him shave felt so intimate, so erotic, she stood there for a second, watching him. It took her a moment to realize it was her turn to answer. “I’m playing with you, too.”
He smiled as he splashed water onto his face.
And yeah, that smile was still a great look on him.
* * *
Cade was on his laptop that evening, answering a thousand e-mails that had popped up from his office. He’d never taken a vacation, never even taken a day off since Laura had died. So he sure as hell wasn’t sorry he was taking one now.
Wiping his tired eyes with the heels of his palms, he glanced around the eclectic décor of Ivy’s cozy little one-bedroom place, finding it so unique and colorful. So like Ivy.
She still had the Christmas thing going on. Bits from Halloween splattered here and there. All this in the middle of July. He’d asked why, and she’d said she didn’t have good storage, and she didn’t want that to keep her from celebrating. He’d never heard of anyone doing this, but it was damned cute.
She was a little box of surprises, Ivy.
Passionate, but shy. Courageous and stubborn, but also somehow frightened. What frightened her? When she slept, she went into this tight little ball against Cade’s chest, like she wanted to make herself very small next to him.
It made his chest hurt, when she did that, even though he always found himself drawing her up even tighter to him. The way she needed him in the middle of the night, when she woke up sweating and touched him like she wanted to make sure he wasn’t a dream, called to every protective, primal instinct inside him. Instincts he hadn’t even known he possessed.