Blake: A Bad Boy Romance

by Day, Laura

  “What are you thinking about?” Ivy asked.

  Blake smiled and said, “Just everything, but I can stop now.” She laughed and tucked her hair behind her ear and suddenly he wanted to touch her. He wanted to put his hands all over her. She was so beautiful and still after all of this time he was struck by her. “Now I’m thinking about how good you look.”

  She smiled up at him from beneath her lashes. “Can we stay out after this?”

  “We can do whatever you want,” Blake answered.

  ***

  They drove to Blake’s favorite club and he held Ivy’s hand and walked past the long line forming outside. People gasped and some even pointed as they passed. He heard someone shout out “Ivy McCormick!” but he didn't stop or turn around. He nodded to the bouncer and without a word the bigger man moved the velvet rope aside and Blake and Ivy walked into the club.

  The dance floor was lit up with Technicolor lights and a synthesized beat was flowing above them. Ivy pulled Blake onto the dance floor. In the crush and the crowd of people they were invisible. They moved together, Blake’s hands on Ivy’s hips, her hands on his shoulder and his neck and in his hair. They moved with the crowd and for a few hours they managed to forget about everything. They forgot about the fight, Darryl, their parents. There was only each other and the dance floor.

  Chapter Forty-Two

  They arrived home well after two o’clock in the morning. They danced and drank the night away. Blake held her hand as they hurried out of club and into a waiting car. The paparazzi were there, but Blake and Ivy were only in the open air for a few seconds. Ivy couldn’t believe this was her life. Partying and paparazzi. She had gone to college with friends who had wanted nothing more than to be famous, but not Ivy. She hadn’t understood that desire for attention and validation from strangers.

  She couldn't deny it was fun running from them. They were like a couple of teenagers hiding around their high school and avoiding hall monitors. In the back of the car they laughed as the world spun a little in front of Ivy’s eyes.

  “How do you feel?” Blake asked resting the back of his hand on Ivy’s cheek. “You’re all flushed.” His hand was cool and Ivy closed her eyes and leaned into him.

  She wanted to feel his touch. It was crazy how much she still wanted him. No matter how much she got, she still wanted more. “I feel very good,” she said biting her lower lip. “I haven't had that much fun in a while.”

  “Good,” Blake said.

  Ivy licked her lips and crossed her leg letting her short dress slip down her thigh. She glanced over at Blake whose eyes were frozen on her exposed skin. She traced her finger from her knee up as Blake watched. There was nothing else they could do. This wasn't a limo; it was just a black car and the driver was right in front of them. She let her hand slide up a little more, bunching up the fabric and Blake adjusted in his seat.

  “We’re close,” he murmured.

  “I’ll say we are,” Ivy said with a smile as she looked out her window.

  They arrived at the apartment to a barrage of paparazzi. Blake got out first and held his hand out to Ivy. Being careful not to expose anything, Ivy stepped out of the car and walked with Blake towards the door ignoring the calls that came from the sea of flashing bulbs. They contained themselves in the lobby as they waited for the elevator. Finally, with a quiet ding, the doors opened. Blake gestured for Ivy to enter first; he followed and pressed the button for his floor and the cold metal doors closed in front of them.

  Blake turned on Ivy and kissed her, pushing her back against the smooth walls of the elevator. He took her wrists in his hand and pinned them to wall as he kissed her and she moaned and slipped her tongue into his mouth as her legs rubbed against his.

  He released her when they arrived at his floor and she was grateful that the doorman hadn’t let any of the paparazzi sneak their way in. There was no one waiting in his hallway. They entered the house and turned off his recently installed alarm.

  “Wait, right here, don’t move,” Blake whispered to Ivy. He moved with precision through his apartment. He knew all of the places a full grown man could hide and he checked them all in under a minute as Ivy watched. He was like a lion, moving swiftly and silently from one place to another, looking for prey.

  Finally, he was done and with a smile he came back to her. With one smooth movement he put his hands on her ass and picked her up. Ivy wrapped her legs around his waist as they kissed. He walked back to the kitchen counter and put Ivy down on top. She kept her legs wrapped around his waist. She didn’t want to let him get away. She pulled at his shirt, quickly pulling it over his head and throwing it aside.

  Blake’s fingers snaked their way up her bare thighs. She shuddered at his touch as her high heel shoes fell with a quiet clatter on the floor. His hands cupped her thighs and he grabbed her legs and pulled her closer. She could feel his erection through his pants where it pressed against her leg.

  Ivy ran her hands around his strong stomach and reached down and grabbed his ass before coming back to his belt. She kissed her way along his chest as her fingers undid his belt buckle and loosened his pants letting them slip to the floor. He was wearing only a pair of boxer briefs and Ivy slid her hand over his erection where it pressed against the soft black fabric.

  Blake let out a low growl and grabbed her hips and pulled her closer. He kissed and bit her neck and then pulled her off the counter and spun her around. He found the zipper of the dress and kissed the base of her neck as he slowly slid the zipper down, his thumb following stroking her skin and making Ivy sigh and push back against him. Her dress fell to the floor and he unsnapped her bra and removed her panties, letting them fall to the floor. Her wrapped his arm around her and traced his fingers over her her before slipping them easily inside of her.

  She moaned and leaned back into him, grinding her ass against his erect penis still held back by his boxers. They left their clothes on the kitchen floor and walked towards the bedroom. Stopping every two feet to kiss and touch each other, they slowly made their way to the bedroom. Once inside Blake lay down on the bed and Ivy crawled towards him. She leaned down and kissed him and his hands reached up to massage her perfect breasts.

  She broke the kiss when he pinched her nipple, but he was there again kissing her as she moaned and writhed against him. She was so ready for him. She wanted him. She needed him. She grabbed the waistband of his boxers and slid them off as his erection broke free and stood at attention. Blake took a condom and rolled it over himself.

  Ivy took his cock in her hand and, straddling him, he easily slipped inside of her. Ivy cried out as he entered her. She was sitting straight up and she could feel every inch of him inside of her. She moved up and down and Blake reached up and took her breast in his hand and she threw back her head as they moved together.

  His cock was stroking her g spot and Ivy cried at he sped up. Blake reached for her and pulled her down. He kissed her and held her close as he continued to thrust into her. His hands were running up and down her back and grabbing her ass, urging her to go harder and faster. She was getting closer; she could feel her orgasm building up inside of her.

  “Blake,” she whispered and she pressed her forehead against his chest. They were moving together and she was going past the edge. She was so close; she was so ready for him. She cried out his name as she felt her orgasm rush upon her. Her body tensed and with one thrust from Blake Ivy was gone, screaming his name as she writhed around him. He grunted and urged her on and she continued to thrust against him until he finally held her tight and with one last thrust finished.

  ***

  The next morning Blake brought her coffee in bed. It was a Saturday and Blake didn’t really have a traditional schedule, but he liked to sleep in on the weekends and so did she. It felt domesticated and normal, and, yet, this was the same bed he had senselessly screwed her in the night before.

  Blake’s phone rang, the loud clanging ruining their morning peace. “It’s Tim,” he sa
id.

  Ivy watched his face as he listened and slowly his expression became happier and happier until he finally hung up the phone.

  “What?” Ivy demanded.

  “They arrested Darryl last night,” Blake said getting out of bed. Ivy followed behind him, her jaw dropped open. “He was trying to pawn an antique clock and got into a fight with the pawnshop owner. He ended up breaking a five-hundred-dollar guitar and he tried to leave but the pawnshop owner kept him there and called the police. He’s been in custody since one in the morning.”

  “Are you serious? I can’t believe it!”

  Blake opened his computer and pulled up the new site Tm had sent a link to. And there it was, Darryl in all of his mug shot glory. He looked terrible. He had a black eye and the thin beginnings of a beard. Only he didn’t seem capable of growing a real beard and instead there were just thin patches scattered about his face. His eyes had a hollowed out look and were bloodshot and rimmed with red. “He’s being charged with a lot,” Blake said as he skimmed the article. “It could total up to thirty years in prison.”

  Ivy felt her stomach drop. She couldn't believe it. Darryl behind bars for thirty years? It seemed impossible that he would ever get caught now it was looking like he could spend decades locked away.

  Chapter Forty-Three

  “Two million dollars.” A paper slid across a dark Mahogany table, but no one reached for it.

  “That’s insulting,” Tim said, refusing to even look at the offer. “And I would like to remind you that Ms. McCormick is not interested in taking an offer. This meeting is just a courtesy to your clients.” The Linden family had finally decided to come forward and deal with their son.

  Mrs. Linden sat in front of Ivy. She was a stern looking woman with a permanent frown mark between her eyes. Her skin was saggy and grey, but her eyes still sparkled with life. She sat with her hand on a cane and anytime she wanted to speak she slammed her cane down first, an act that silenced everyone.

  “Ms. McCormick could get three times that for the rights to her story alone. Did you really bring the three of us down here for this nonsense?”

  Slam! Went the cane. “Enough. This is a matter of the law. Try to treat it with some dignity.” Her voice was still strong and it never shook. “Now, I understand that Darryl has been acting out. He did always need a rather exorbitant amount of attention. But things have spiraled to a dangerous level and it’s time for cooler heads to prepare.”

  “So it was fine when he was nailing stuffed animals to my door, but guns and a cheap motel room are a step too far?” Ivy demanded.

  “Yes,” Mrs. Linden said calmly. “The first was only a silly little prank. They were just little games on you. I don't know why you allowed him to get you so riled up. You must ignore him when he gets like this. He once left a dead hamster in my favorite hat. He was standing there when it fell on my head. I just took the animal threw it at him and told him to bury it and find some worthwhile way to spend his time. It worked. He never bothered me with that nonsense again.”

  Blake stared in almost awe of this woman. He couldn’t understand how she could find such a strange story so very normal.

  “Ignoring him didn’t make him go away,” Ivy said.

  “Yes...well, I can see that. You must be a special case. But I am here now to make it go away. Name your price, girl.”

  “My price?!” Ivy demanded.

  But Tim turned towards her and lifted his hand to appeaser her. “Let’s think about this Ivy. This man has ruined your life. This would avoid a trial. It’s something to consider, but not anything we need to decide now.”

  Slam! “Yes, now,” Mrs. Linden corrected. “This is a one time offer, name your price.”

  “Your son has tortured me. He had stalked me and threatened me and made my life a living hell. I almost lost my job over him; it’s been impossible to live my life. He put a camera in Blake’s house and recorded us having sex and then uploaded it to the internet and you think money can make all that go away?”

  “Well, if you had waited until marriage, the sex tape wouldn’t have existed. And I think you have a bit of a delicate constitution if my son has so easily rattled you. Now, your price. What is it? Let’s settle this now. I want you to drop the charges. I want a gag order in place so we don’t talk about this anymore, so tell me how much that will cost.”

  Blake said nothing. His jaw ached as he clenched it to try and keep himself from saying something he couldn't take back. He looked over at the horrible old woman in her black dress and grey thinning hair. She was wearing makeup and he could see where the lipstick smeared on her aged and wrinkled face. Some people age gracefully slipping into old age with ease and comfort. But not Mrs. Linden. She wore blush to try and bring a flash of color to her pale complexion, and her lipstick was bright and gaudy. What was he saying? Money can’t buy class.

  Blake glanced at Ivy and recognized the look on her face. It was pure determination. Mrs. Linden foolishly believed she held all the cards. She assumed Ivy could be bought. He imagined there were many desperate girls in her past who had taken the money simply because they needed it to live. But Ivy wasn’t like that. Ivy didn’t need the money. She wasn’t desperate. She had the Linden family on the ropes and she knew it.

  “What I want,” Ivy said staring right into Mrs. Linden’s yellowing eyes, “is for your son to go to jail for a long time. I don’t need to take your offer right now. I’m going to take your son to court and have him sent to jail and once we’re done with that I’m bringing a civil action against your family. I’m going to get everything I want and your son is going to pay for what he has done to me.”

  A horrified look came over Mrs. Linden’s face and she opened her mouth, but her lawyer put a hand on her shoulder. He whispered something into her ear and she seethed, but she did so silently. She wore a hideous expression on her face, one of anger and hatred and frustration. She stared at Ivy, but the younger woman stared back unafraid.

  “Very well,” the attorney for Mrs. Linden said. He stood and she followed, but then they both stopped and the lawyer snapped his briefcase and looked at Tim before he spoke. “We’ve spoken with the courts and it’s been agreed that Darryl is unwell and should be sent to a private mental facility where he can be treated for his insanity.”

  “What?” Ivy and Blake demanded. Ivy tried to stand, but Tim put his hand on her shoulder and she remained in her seat.

  “Darryl is a psychopath, but he isn’t insane,” Tim said. “He knew what he was doing. He deliberately wore gloves so he wouldn’t leave fingerprints and he had alibis set up. He paid people to help him. What judge would give him an insanity plea?”

  “A good judge,” Mrs. Linden said. “One who understands the pressures someone like my son suffers.”

  “The pressure of getting whatever he wants and never working a day in his life. What kind of pressure is that?”

  “A difficult one you would never understand,” she replied with a sniff.

  Tim stared daggers at the other lawyer and said, “So, what? An old family friend? Someone you’ve given money to? That’s how you’re keeping him out of jail. How long do you think that will last? Darryl is a pariah and the public doesn’t want to see him in some cushy, private institution; they want to see him in jail where he belongs. I’m getting the insanity deal overturned and I can’t imagine it will take me long.” He looked at Mrs. Linden and continued, “You might have bought him a few days in a cushy place, but he’s going to spend a lot longer in jail. No minimum security either. He is a violent felon and I won’t have any problem proving that to a jury.”

  Mrs. Linden and her lawyer left, the loud click of her cane against the hard floor trailing behind her. The door closed and Ivy, Blake and Tim remained at the table.

  “Can he really plead insanity?” Ivy demanded.

  “He can certainly try,” Tim said with a shrug. “But he’ll have a hard time proving it. For an insanity defense you have to prove that the per
petrator didn’t understand what he was doing at the time.”

  “But Darryl knew exactly what he was doing. He went to so much trouble to hide any evidence that he was the one stalking Ivy.”

  “Exactly, and that’s what will be his undoing. He’s created a horrible paradox for himself. The care he went to avoid leaving evidence is all the proof the DA will need to overturn an insanity plea. He’s screwed himself over.”

  “What about this facility he’s at, the private one, can he leave?” Blake asked, reaching for Ivy’s hand and squeezing it. But there were no tremors in her limbs and no tears in her eyes. She had moved past being afraid. But not Blake; he was still so worried about her, still so afraid Darryl could find a way to get to her and hurt her.

  “I’ll look into it. But most likely they’ll have strict security measures in place. Besides, his own people will want him to stay there. With any luck they have him medicated and unable to much more than sip juice and watch television in a bathrobe. You don’t need to worry.”