by Ivy Layne
We spent two hours making a green chili curry, and when we were done, I swallowed my nerves and asked him if he wanted to have a glass of wine with me. At my place.
We'd barely made it through the door before we fell on each other, all eager, frantic hands, his mouth hungry and insistent on mine. That first time he overwhelmed me.
He tore the buttons from my blouse, my fingers slipped on the catch of my skirt, and then the rasp of the carpet against my back as we hit the floor. I was lucky he remembered protection. By the time we were naked, I was too far gone, dizzy and blind from the feel of his hard body against mine.
I'd been going through a dry spell for the past few months, and the press of his cock inside me was almost too much. The first orgasm had crashed through me in a tidal wave of sharp, sweet pleasure.
He fucked me in hard, deep thrusts, dragging out my orgasm until he followed me into bliss, his eyes squeezed shut, teeth clenched. We'd lay on the carpet for a few minutes, trying to catch our breath before Adam rolled to his feet, took my hand and led me to my bedroom.
And then things got a little crazy. As I've mentioned, I'm a pretty normal girl. Not a virgin, not a slut. I don't break any mirrors, but I’m not gorgeous.
I'd had sex before, a handful of boyfriends and one long-term relationship. So far, the sex had been fairly normal, just like me. Not much worth gossiping about with my girlfriends, but not bad. Just sex.
Sex with Adam was not normal. Not that first time when it was all desperate urgency and crazed desire. And definitely not normal the second time when he carefully removed what was left of my bra and used it to tie me to the bed.
It had never occurred to me that I'd like being tied up. I've been thinking about it since that first time. A lot. Because I didn't just like it, I loved it. When we had our clothes on Adam treated me like an equal.
I could be loud, and I could be opinionated. That had been a problem with men in the past. My personality attracted them at the beginning, but once we were together, it always seemed that what they really wanted was a quiet woman who agreed with everything they said.
Not Adam. He enjoyed our verbal sparring. He liked my enthusiasm. And while he was pretty much the definition of confident and assertive, he didn't need to control me to feel powerful.
When the clothes came off, everything changed. Adam was in charge, and what he wanted, he got.
In a million years I never would have thought I'd find that attractive. I don't know if I can explain it because I've always hated it when anyone told me what to do. The easiest way to get me to do something is to tell me to do the opposite.
But when Adam gave me that intent focused look and followed it with an order, I complied immediately, my body heating in anticipation. I think it's safe to say the whole relationship had me spun.
The first time he told me to get on my knees and suck his cock, I'd glared at him in outrage. He’d raised one dark eyebrow and stared me down. By the time I had his belt open, the insides of my thighs were slick with moisture, every cell in my body white-hot with need.
Maybe I would've felt differently if he'd dismissed me afterward, if he treated me like a one night stand or a booty call. But after the sex, after the orgasms, he was always there.
He never slept over, but he didn't rush out either. He'd lay in bed with me, his long body curled around mine, his hands stroking my skin, soothing and sweet. Sometimes we'd talk, whispered conversations about nothing and everything. Other times I'd fall asleep with him and wake alone.
Adam Stewart seemed like my dream man. For the most part, he was. But still, there were things that didn't add up. He was very, very good at distracting me with his body, but I hadn't missed the fact that I'd never met any of his friends, never been to his place, and never seen where he worked.
We hadn't been together that long, barely a month, but by now he should have at least invited me to see where he lived. I'd asked, and his excuse about renovations could have been the truth.
I didn't want to doubt him. For one thing, I trusted him. At least as much as I could trust anyone I'd only known a month. Maybe I just didn't want to believe he was hiding something.
I'll admit it; I worried that if I got any deeper and found out something I didn't want to know, I'd have to give up the best sex I've ever had.
Maybe I should have broken up with him, or demanded he prove he didn’t have a wife or girlfriend. Another woman might have tried snooping in his cell phone or his wallet. I didn't do any of that.
My life had gotten very complicated in the past few months, and Adam was a blissful distraction. I was afraid if I peeked behind the curtain I would find out that he had been nothing more than an illusion. I was wary enough to continually remind myself not to fall for him.
Laughing over a shared dinner, mind-blowing kinky sex, and snuggling were all well and good, but I was keeping my heart out of it. At least, I was trying to.
Across the table, Adam broke through my reverie when he put down his fork and pushed his plate away.
“Almost finished?" He asked, his eyes focused on my mouth as he watched me take my last bite of pasta. Adam had a number of looks I couldn't decipher. His intense gaze and heavy eyelids were not one of them. My belly tightened in anticipation.
I had no idea what he was planning for tonight, but I knew whatever it was, I was going to love it.
I put down my fork, finished chewing, and took a sip of wine. "I'm finished," I said. Adam gestured for the check, not bothering to ask if I wanted dessert.
Normally, I always wanted dessert, but with the way Adam was looking at me, I couldn't have cared less. I’d get my after dinner treat; it just wouldn’t be in the form of food. The waiter was at the table a moment later, then walking away a minute after that, cash in hand.
Adam and I rose together, our eyes locked on each other. He helped me into my coat, his gaze leaving a searing path across my skin everywhere it touched.
Standing behind me, settling my coat over my shoulders, he reached around to fasten the top button, his knuckles grazing the bare skin of my upper chest. My nipples tightened at his touch, and I shivered when he whispered into my ear, "I like this dress. I'd hate to damage it. What should we do about that?"
"I guess that depends on how you want to fuck me," I murmured back. "Do you want me naked? Or do you want me to bend over and pull it up out of your way?"
Adam's hands dropped as he fastened the middle button of my coat. I felt the loss of his touch as soon as he stepped away. He took my arm and led me toward the door in silence, my question hanging in the air between us.
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The Untangled Series
Unraveled (October 2018)
Undone (Early 2019)
Uncovered (Spring 2019)
Scandals of the Bad Boy Billionaires
The Billionaire’s Secret Heart (Novella)
The Billionaire’s Secret Love (Novella)
The Billionaire’s Pet
The Billionaire’s Promise
The Rebel Billionaire
The Billionaire’s Secret Kiss (Novella)
The Billionaire’s Angel
Engaging the Billionaire
Compromising the Billionaire
The Counterfeit Billionaire
Series Extras
The Alpha Billionaire Club
The Wedding Rescue
The Courtship Maneuver
The Temptation Trap
ABOUT IVY LAYNE
Ivy Layne has had her nose stuck in a book since she first learned to decipher the English language. Sometime in her early teens, she stumbled across her first Romance, and the die was cast. Though she pretended to pay attention to her creative writing professors, she dreamed of writing steamy romance instead of literary fiction. These days, she’s neck deep in alp
ha heroes and the smart, sexy women who love them.
Married to her very own alpha hero (who rubs her back after a long day of typing, but also leaves his socks on the floor). Ivy lives in the mountains of North Carolina where she and her other half are having a blast raising two energetic little boys. Aside from her family, Ivy’s greatest loves are coffee and chocolate, preferably together.
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Unraveled
Copyright © 2018 by Ivy Layne
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author. The only exception is by a reviewer, who may quote short excerpts in a review.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Cover by Jacqueline Sweet
Find out more about the author and upcoming books online at www.ivylayne.com