Igniting Ivy (The Men on Fire Series)

by Samantha Christy

  I study her. I study the broken girl with the sad eyes and one thing comes to mind. Sawyer Mills. He was the same way with Aspen at first. Unwilling to let her in beyond the terms of their arrangement. And if he could get past his issues, maybe Ivy could get past hers. But Aspen had months to get him to open up. I have twelve days.

  Ivy opens her bottle of water and takes a drink. She watches me as she puts the cap back on. “It’s a lot to ask,” she says. “And I’ll understand if you say no. But tonight was fun. I enjoy spending time with you. So I hope you’ll say yes.”

  “Under one condition,” I say.

  “What’s that?”

  “You do everything I’m going to do. You come with me on all my excursions and outings.”

  “You want me to give you the honeymoon you had planned?” she asks.

  I laugh. “Well, we already consummated our relationship, so yeah.”

  “You drive a hard bargain, Sebastian Briggs.”

  “In the words of some naked girl I know, take it or leave it, Ivy Greene.”

  A small smile creeps up her face. “I guess I’ll take it.”

  “Good,” I say, taking her bottle of water, finishing it, and then placing it on the nightstand. Then I pull the sheet off her, yank her down so she’s lying flat on her back, and work my way down her body. Right before I place my mouth between her legs, I tell her, “Because we’re going to do this one my way.”

  Chapter Six

  Ivy

  I wake up surrounded by Bass. He’s not here, he left last night. But I can still smell him on my pillow. I can still feel all the things he did to my body. It was like a dream. An escape. It was everything I never knew I needed and more.

  He thought I was going to tell him I was a virgin. That I’d never had sex before. But what I was really going to say, what I almost said, was that I’d never felt like that before.

  Sex with Eli was good. Even fun at times. But we were high school sweethearts. And having sex with someone at seventeen was awkward. We didn’t know what the other wanted. We didn’t know what we wanted. And even as we grew up, it never turned into anything like last night. It was always just … ordinary. Comfortable. Even after we broke up we sometimes used it to comfort one another.

  I turn over in bed, noticing the flower Bass tried to put in my hair last night. It’s a daisy, an unusual flower for a native Hawaiian to give a tourist, and I wonder if Leilani just ran out of all the other ones. I bring it to my nose, inhaling its earthy scent. Some people don’t like the smell of them. I’m not some people.

  I open the drawer in my nightstand and pull out the picture frame, running my finger across the face inside it.

  “Maybe I’m not exactly going about this whole thing with Bass the right way, but I know you would want this for me,” I say to it. “All you ever wanted was to see me happy. But how can I ever be happy again knowing you can’t be? I’m trying hard to enjoy all the things we said we’d do together when we came here.” A tear rolls down my cheek. “I should be doing these things with you, not him. God, I miss you so much, baby.”

  I place the picture back on the nightstand, knowing I’ll probably have to hide it in the drawer again at some point. Because last night, I agreed to do whatever Bass wanted for the rest of his stay. And I’m willing to bet that includes a repeat of last night.

  My body starts tingling just thinking about it.

  There was nothing awkward or ordinary about it. Being with Bass was … passionate.

  My phone rings and I look at the time, wondering what he has in store for me today. Without even looking at the name on the screen, I answer it.

  “A tad eager, are we?” I ask with a smile.

  “Eager for what, little sister?” Holly says.

  I sit up in bed, pulling the covers protectively around my naked body as if she can see me.

  “Holly.”

  “Oh my God!” she squeals. “You thought I was the guy in the picture, didn’t you?”

  “Oh, you saw that?”

  “Are you kidding? Mom texted it to me as soon as she got it. I think we’re all in shock. But, Ivy, we’re so glad you’ve met someone.”

  “Don’t get your panties in a twist, Hol. It’s just casual. And I only sent it to Mom so you guys would quit bugging me all the time. I guess you drew the short straw today, huh?”

  She scoffs into the phone. “There are no straws. We all care about you. We want to make sure you’re okay.”

  “I’m okay,” I say flatly.

  “Are you?”

  When I don’t answer, she asks another question. “Tell me about him.”

  “There’s not much to tell. He’s on the island alone. I’m on the island alone. We’re just keeping each other company.”

  “Have you shagged him yet?”

  “Holly!”

  “Oh, come on. Spill. Do you know how long I’ve waited to be able to talk to you about your sexual conquests? For years you’ve had to sit and listen to me talk about mine. And we both know that’s a hell of a lot of listening.” She giggles into the phone.

  Unlike Alder and me, Holly has always been a free spirit. That’s just a nice way of saying she’s a bit slutty.

  “I’m not giving you a play-by-play, Hol.”

  More squeals come through the phone. “So, you did sleep with him. Good for you, Ivy. Did he make you come? How many times? God, that man is seriously hot. He about made me come just from looking at his picture. How did you meet? Where’s he from? How long is he staying? Are you seeing him again? Oh my God, is he lying in bed with you right now?”

  I can’t help but laugh at her inquisition.

  Holly doesn’t fail to notice. “And you’re laughing? I think he must be a saint. Tell me everything.”

  I blow out a deep breath, deciding to tell her. She is, after all, more than just my sister. She’s my best friend.

  “If I tell you, you can’t get all weird about it. Because it’s no big deal.”

  “It’s a huge deal, Ivy.”

  “Holly,” I scold her.

  “Fine. I promise not to make a big deal about it.”

  “We met two days ago on a helicopter ride. He asked me out then, but I said no. Then I ran into him on the beach. He’s staying at a resort here in Poipu. He’s a firefighter. He plays guitar. He’s here for twelve more days. He’s from New York, too. Oh, and he’s on his honeymoon.”

  “He’s what?” she screams through the phone, causing me to laugh again.

  I spend the next ten minutes explaining, and by the time we hang up, I’m pretty sure Holly wants to date him. Heck, maybe she could. I could introduce them when we’re back home.

  Then something unfamiliar and unwelcome runs down my spine when I think about Holly with Bass.

  I shake off the feeling and toss my phone onto the bed on my way to the shower.

  Fifteen minutes later, as I’m towel-drying my hair, my phone pings with a text. I wonder which one of them is texting me. Mom, Dad, Alder, Christina? I’m sure Holly called all of them immediately after we hung up.

  I pick up my phone and read the text.

  Sebastian: Today’s itinerary – meet at the beach after breakfast. Say, 10:00. Wear the blue bikini. I’m taking you surfing. Then after lunch, we’re going hiking. Dinner will be at the place of your choosing.

  It pings again.

  Sebastian: Oh, and I had a great time last night, Ivy Greene.

  I look at the time. It’s only seven thirty. Even though I’ve been here for a week, it’s hard to get over the six-hour time difference between here and New York and I find myself waking up very early. That’s okay, though. Morning walks on the beach are one of the best parts of my day.

  Me: See you at ten.

  I pull on some shorts and a halter top and head out for my walk. I’m surprised when I see Erma out here so early. The seals don’t usually come on the beach until the afternoon, but one of them is here.

  “No rest for the weary?” I ask.
/>   “I think she’s hurt,” Erma says. “I’ve placed a call to our marine veterinarian.”

  “That’s awful. Where’s the other one?” I ask. “Don’t they always travel together?”

  “Not always. This one probably got mobbed and came up here to recover.”

  “Mobbed?”

  “It’s what happens when a lot of males fight to breed with a female. She will often get hurt in the process.”

  I cover my gasp. “As in she was gang raped?”

  Erma chuckles and touches my arm. “It’s not as bad as it sounds, dear. It’s how monk seals have behaved for millions of years. They don’t form lasting relationships like humans do. Like you and that handsome boy of yours.”

  I raise my eyebrows at her. “We haven’t formed a lasting relationship, Erma. We’re just friends.”

  She eyes me like I’m full of shit. “Shame,” she says. “You two make quite an attractive couple.” She looks back at the seal and then at me again. “You know, Flip doesn’t have any choices about how she lives her life. It’s all pre-programmed in her genes. But that’s the wonderful thing about humans. We have choices. And sometimes that one choice we make can define the rest of our lives. So think long and hard before you make yours.”

  People begin to encroach upon the seal, so Erma excuses herself to make sure they all stay behind the ropes she’s placed around her.

  I walk twice as long this morning, doubling back and re-tracing my route just to get the extra beach time. I think about what Erma said. Old people think they’re so wise. They think they know everything because they have more life experience than we do. I think she’s just spent too much time in the sun. Too much time watching people in love who walk the beach. Too much time seeing how happy people are here in paradise.

  In paradise, she doesn’t get to see the other side. The dark side. The side where people are taken away far too soon.

  I look at the time and see it’s nine thirty, so I head back up to get ready for my … date?

  Chapter Seven

  Sebastian

  “Are you okay?” I ask, helping Ivy up a particularly steep embankment of rocks. “You’re not too sore from surfing, are you?”

  “Not yet,” she says. “But after a few hours of that and now this, I’ll be surprised if I can get out of bed tomorrow.”

  “Then maybe you shouldn’t.” I wink at her. “I’ve been told I give very good massages, you know. And we’ve been pretty busy these past few days. Maybe we could take tomorrow off and hang out at one of our resorts. Sip Mai Tais, get tan, and play our guitars.”

  “I’m not playing guitar for anyone, let alone the prodigy from Juilliard.”

  I laugh. “I’m no prodigy. Just a guy who likes to play guitar. It’ll be fun.”

  “I don’t know,” she says, looking like she swallowed a bug.

  “Remember the rules. You have to do everything I say for the next eleven and a half days.”

  She looks at me from under her lashes. “Everything?” she asks.

  “Shit, Ivy,” I say, looking around. “You’re going to make me hard. And it’s not like I’ll be able to hide it in my hiking shorts.” I adjust myself through the thin material.

  There aren’t a lot of people hiking this trail, but enough so I can’t press her against a rock and kiss her. But that’s exactly what I want to do. Because I can’t stop thinking about last night. It was unreal. While the first time was quick and dirty, the second was everything but. She let me have my way with her, any way I wanted. It was almost like she’d never been with a man before, even though she assured me she had. Being with her like that satisfied every fantasy I’ve ever had. But now that I’ve had a taste of her, I can’t help but crave more. And if she’s only giving me eleven and a half more days, I plan to taste as much of her as I can.

  We come to another difficult climb on the trail and I have to help her once again.

  “Are you sure you want to do this with me?” she asks. “I’m just holding you back. You’d probably be there and back by now if you didn’t have me to slow you down.”

  “Hiking is more than just getting there and back. It’s about the beauty along the way.”

  There is unbelievable beauty around us. The rocks, the canyons, the trees and flowers. But I wasn’t talking about any of that. And I think she gets it based on the way she’s looking up at me right now.

  “Besides, there aren’t many people who could keep up with me,” I tell her. “I’m trained to climb dozens of flights of stairs with almost one hundred pounds of gear.”

  “A hundred pounds?”

  “You know, oxygen tanks, axes, and hoses. That’s some heavy shit. Not to mention our turnout gear.”

  “What’s turnout gear?”

  “Our coats, pants, and boots along with our hoods and helmets. Those alone are substantial even without all the other stuff we have to carry.”

  “That must be very difficult,” she says, finding a rock to sit on once we get to a level spot.

  “It was torture at first. And during training, we had to do it over and over. It was so hard that a lot of guys would have to stop and puke. But you get used to it. We still run drills like that every week, just to make sure we don’t get soft or rusty.”

  “I have a question,” she says. “In every picture I’ve seen of firefighters, like the ones in those calendars, they always wear suspenders. Is that a real thing, or do they wear those just to look sexy in the photos?”

  I laugh. “You think the suspenders are sexy?”

  She shrugs.

  “Actually, they’re an important part of the turnout gear,” I say. “The bunker pants we wear are pretty heavy and we have to crawl around a lot. If we don’t wear the suspenders, our pants could slip down and then our knee pads wouldn’t protect our knees and we could get injured or burned.”

  She doesn’t say a word, she just stares at me as I hover over her.

  “Are you picturing me in suspenders, Ivy Greene?”

  “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

  “Actually, I would. And that could be arranged, you know. I’m sure I could get my hands on some. Or maybe you could just come by the firehouse after we get home.”

  “Sebastian,” she scolds me with a hard stare.

  I hold up my hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. You can’t blame a guy for trying.”

  I finish my bottle of water and then realize I have to pee. I point to a tree. “I’ll be right back, nature is calling.”

  “Sometimes it’s really convenient to be a man, isn’t it?” she says.

  I laugh as I make my way behind the tree to take care of business. While I’m there, I come across a bunch of brightly-colored flowers that look almost like sunflowers or daisies except they’re pink. I pick one of them off at the stem and bring it back to Ivy.

  I hold it out to her. “A beautiful flower for a beautiful lady.”

  “I … I …” Her tanned face turns ashen and she stares at the flower like it might burn her.

  “You do like flowers, don’t you? I mean, you are in the business.” I turn the flower over in my hands. “I thought maybe it was a sunflower, but aren’t those yellow?”

  She shakes her head. Then she closes her eyes. “This isn’t a sunflower,” she says, obviously struggling to get the words out.

  “Oh. Then what is it?”

  Her eyes open again, and she looks at the flower once more. Then she looks away, a tear rolling out of her eye. She tries to hide it, but it’s too late. I already saw it.

  “It’s … it’s a d-dahlia,” she stutters. Then she stands up suddenly. “I’m s-sorry, I have to pee, too. I’ll be back in a m-minute.”

  I’m left staring at the flower, wondering what the hell just happened here.

  I put the flower down on the rock Ivy vacated and then I lean against another one, waiting far longer than a minute for her to return. When she does, her eyes are red-rimmed and bloodshot.

  “Are you okay? Can you tell me
what happened?”

  She shakes her head.

  “Come on, Ivy. Please. Because whatever I did, I don’t want to do it again.”

  She glances at the flower on the rock before she walks away. “Just don’t bring me flowers and we’ll be good.”

  I want to ask her more questions. Why is she bothered by this particular flower and not the one I bought her on the beach? Or the one the concierge gave her? Maybe whoever she’s running from used to bring her those flowers.

  But I don’t ask her. Because her sad eyes are back. I hadn’t seen them all day. Maybe for a minute the first time we paddled out on the surfboards, but I thought that was because she was scared.

  She walks ahead of me until we get to the top of the large rock face—the one we saw people standing on from the helicopter the other day. It’s a bit off the beaten path, so nobody else is here at the moment. I take a minute to stare at the picturesque canyon.

  When I turn to Ivy to say something about the view, my heart lodges in my throat and adrenaline shoots through my body. She’s dangerously close to the edge of the cliff. There are no fences here. No walls or railings to keep people from falling. Or jumping. She’s literally inches from going over. One shift in her stance; one falter in her step; one strong wind, and she’d plummet hundreds of feet into the canyon below.

  I carefully lunge forward and wrap my arms around her stomach, all too aware that if I make one wrong move, I could be the force that pushes her over. I quickly haul her back as we both fall onto the ground behind us.

  She stares into my eyes, but she’s not looking at me. It’s like she’s looking through me. Then one of her hands grabs my dick through my hiking shorts. I’m more than a little shocked and confused based on what just happened, but that’s not going to stop me from letting this—whatever this is—happen. No matter what her reasons are for doing it, the bottom line is, I want her.