by R. J. Lewis
“That’s it, Ivy, deeper,” he groans. “I want to feel the back of your throat.”
I take him as deep as I can go. He strokes my face, mesmerized by me.
“Faster now.”
I move faster, and his head falls back. His eyes are half-closed. He’s lost in pleasure, and I’m back to staring at his sexy body. This guy is something else.
Before I can continue studying him, he grabs me around the shoulders and flips me on my back. He settles his knees on either side of my waist and jerks his cock over me.
“Cup your tits, Ivy,” he demands, voice tight.
I cup them and he comes straight after, shooting his load right over them. He groans deep, eyes closed. I watch his face closely, fidgeting beneath him because it’s such a raw expression. He’s really sexy. It’s sort of a problem because when he opens his eyes, I just lay there, staring at him, unable to look away. He stares back at me, a smirk pulling along his lips. Then he’s running his hand along my breasts, spreading around his come until my breasts are covered in it.
It’s not enough I had to watch him come. It’s not enough he’s so beautiful, it hurts. No, he has to go right ahead and mark me like this. After last night and this morning, I’m covered in him, in his scent, in his come and kisses. I love it all.
“Next time I’ll be coming down your throat,” he tells me.
I bite my lip. “I look forward to it, Mr West.”
He runs his thumb along my bottom lip, watching me with the afterglow of a good orgasm. Then he climbs off me and moves to the bathroom, tossing over his shoulder, “Come shower with me.”
I slip out of bed and follow after him. This bathroom is fit for a king. Just absolutely huge, all glass and stone walls. I check out his sculpted ass as he turns the water on in the giant stall. This guy seriously lifts. His legs – fuck, wow – they’re thick and muscular. He’s got the full V-line and narrow waist. His biceps are huge, and his chest is defined. These tattoos are really rocking my socks because they’re elegant looking and very uniquely designed. They certainly weren’t picked out of a catalogue.
I’m fan-girling like an idiot, but I can’t help it.
There are two shower heads in this bathroom. I step under one and he’s under another. We don’t speak for a few minutes. All of his bathroom products are tailored for a man. Is it bad that it warms my heart he doesn’t have one single feminine product in here? That he must not have women frequenting this shower. Even my bathroom had generic shit. The body wash I use on me is all male. Even the shampoo has a hint of sage in it. I lather it in my hair and glance over my shoulder at Aidan. He’s turned his back to the spray and is facing me. His entire body is covered in soap suds. He’s running his hands through his soaked hair, washing out the shampoo. His eyes are open, regarding me just the same.
I’m feeling a little conscious now because I’ve got an audience. He watches me rinse my body, and he’s looking over every inch of my skin. He likes what he’s seeing. I can see him growing hard already. It’s sort of taking me by surprise because I’m not used to seeing that excitement so soon after the kind of intimacy we’ve had.
His eyes linger longer along my belly. His brows come together, and a strange expression forms. He comes to me suddenly, and I pause to look up at him. I feel his fingers brushing along my lower stomach, along my c-section scar. He looks at my face, studying me, saying nothing. I don’t look back at him. I am not going to talk about this, and he knows that. His hand falls from my scar and he takes my hand. He brings me under his shower head and rinses me off.
“Breakfast?” he murmurs.
I nod, relaxing now. “I’d love breakfast.”
“Maple syrup with a side of waffles, you said.”
I grin at him and he smiles back. “You’re getting it, Mr –”
He smashes his mouth against mine, kissing me so hard, I go weak. His arms wrap around me, holding me to him. His tongue searches my mouth, tasting me. He turns me around, his face nipping at my neck now and brings his hand between my legs.
“How about I make you come first?”
I sag against him, shutting my eyes as he rubs my clit. “Yes, sir.”
“Fuck yeah, Ivy, you’re getting it, too.”
He sucks my neck, sticking his finger deep into me.
“Fuck yes, I love how tight you are,” he rasps in my ear. “You’re fucking my finger so good, Miss Montcalm.”
It’s not enough, though. His cock is poking me in the back. I’d give anything to have him inside me right now.
“Fuck me, sir,” I beg. “I want you in me.”
“Mm.” He doesn’t do that, though. He uses his finger to drive me wild and then he’s rubbing along my clit, taking his time, building me up again. I come hard, crying out, and he’s holding me upright, keeping me steady.
“You come hard every time,” he mutters. “So hot, Ivy.”
I don't get a chance to respond back. He pushes me down until I'm on my knees. "Cup those beautiful tits for me again," he orders.
I do and he jerks himself over me, coming over my lips and chest with the most satisfied look.
One can get used to this.
After the shower he’s back in his suit and I’m leafing through my closet, trying to find something elegant enough. Ana said he likes elegant looking women. After all, he was seen strutting around with them, wasn’t he? Probably not the best thing to think about. I’m just not feeling very good enough right now.
He shows up at my closet, leaning his body against the doorway, watching me make a mess.
“You’re having trouble,” he notes.
“I want to look good.”
“You’d look good in anything.”
“I don’t want to look underdressed next to you,” I explain to him.
He walks in and pulls off a pair of jeans and a blue cropped sweater. “Wear these.”
“But –”
“I’ll wear something else.”
Before I can argue, he disappears from the room. By the time I’ve dressed, he’s in the room and wearing jeans and a black sweater.
“Better?” he asks me, smirking at my relieved expression.
I smile. “Much.”
“Let’s go have breakfast.”
It’s around seven in the morning when we leave the apartment. We’re in the underground parking lot when he raises his hand and presses a button on his car fob. A car roars to life. I’m walking in the direction of the blue sportscar when I hear him say, “Wrong car, beauty.”
I pause and redirect my attention to the yellow Lamborghini that is now roaring to life. My mouth drops open, and I look at him in surprise.
“Is this a Gallardo?” I ask him because I'm an idiot and don't know any other Lambo by name.
“Aventador,” he answers.
I smile at him just before entering. “I won’t even pretend to know the difference.”
He grins in response and slips in.
When I get in, I do my best to be as gentle as possible. I don’t want to accidentally scratch the interior or slam the door too hard. Aidan watches me with an amused expression. I clasp my hands together in my lap and sit completely still on the yellow and black leather seat. It even smells luxurious.
Aidan leans over, taking the seatbelt I stupidly forgot to put on. I’m so scatterbrained, I’m not thinking straight. He buckles me up, adjusting the belt over me. His finger runs along my bare arm, an intimate touch that leaves goosebumps behind. He studies my expression, appearing careful.
“Comfortable?” he then asks me.
I smile nervously at him. “Trying to be.”
“Sit tight, temptress.”
My heart warms at the nickname. “I will.”
His grin intensifies. “There’s nothing sexier than a beautiful woman in a beautiful car.”
Before I can respond, he sits back, and the car takes off out of the parking lot. My whole body tenses. I can feel the power in the car and he’s not even going fast
.
“Wow, this is crazy cool.”
He grins at me, catching my reaction. “This is nothing. Wait until I take you out to some empty backroads. Those roads go for miles. You don’t know how fast you can go until you’re in one of these things.”
“You’re an adrenaline junkie.”
His smile looks so boyish. I’ve never seen him so giddy. “I am.”
“Sounds dangerous.”
“The best things in life usually are.” He looks at me then, and I feel his desire.
He steals my breath away.
I feel like I’m falling perilously off the edge and into an abyss with no end.
*
We go to Sunset Grill. I’ve been a handful of times with Ana. The waffles here are to die for. The place is already noisy and crowded, but not enough we don’t get seats straightaway. We sit next to the window around a small table. The smell of eggs and coffee is in the air. Oh, yeah, the coffee here is to die for, too.
Aidan has his phone on the table, and it’s lighting up every two seconds. He ignores it though as he looks over the menu. I glance at the screen. It’s work stuff. A meeting he was supposed to be at. I read a message from someone named Steven that says: Not cool of you, Aidan.
I look at Aidan. “You’re not supposed to be here, are you?”
“Says who?” he asks casually.
“I saw some of your messages. You’re supposed to be at a meeting.”
“The world will turn in my absence.”
“Are you always so blasé about work matters?”
He turns a page in the menu. “As of lately? Yes. My sexy temptress is to blame.”
I bite my lower lip to stop from smiling. I look at his face, at his lips, at his strong hands. I feel heady with desire for the guy. “Thank you for taking me out in your Aventador Lamborghini, and for making me come like a firecracker in the shower this morning, sir.”
Heads turn our way. I should have perhaps been a little quieter.
Aidan’s still staring at his menu, a sexy smile forming. “You’re welcome, Ivy.”
“Did you like my blowjob this morning? I need some feedback.”
He’s chuckling now, closing the menu to look back at me. “Fucking hell, Ivy, you’re an open book after a good orgasm.”
This time I do smile. I feel comfortable having this conversation with him. “I feel like if there is room for improvement, I want there to be open dialogue.”
“You’re receptive to criticism.”
“Us people at the bottom usually are. We take some seriously heavy swings.”
“I believe you.”
“So…?”
He stares at my mouth. “So, you sucked me like a vacuum, Ivy. My cock thanks you.”
I laugh. “You’re welcome, sir. Anything for your cock.”
He’s smiling back, looking almost speechless. “Fuck, Ivy, what have I unleashed?”
He has no idea. I would let him pound me right here, in this breakfast joint, in front of all these poor souls. Pound away, sir. Pound me until I can feel every inch of you in me, stretching me, owning me. Gah, I’m so horny, it’s making me fidget.
The waitress selfishly destroys my fantasy and approaches us. We order our food and by now Aidan is doing everything in his power to drive me crazy. He talks about every topic under the sun except fucking me.
Smooth, Aidan. Real fucking smooth.
I know he’s torturing me on purpose. This is Aidan we’re talking about. He’s brazen as fuck and loves talking about my pussy and his cock all in one sentence.
We eat and he’s practically talking to a wall. I’m looking back at him, staring at his mouth, wanting it back on my pussy. Why are we even out in public right now when we could be in his apartment and he could be fucking me? Not even the waffles are saving my mood right now.
“What do you think about what I’ve just said, Ivy?” Aidan asks, smirking at me because he knows what he’s doing.
“I haven’t been paying attention,” I tell him, sounding grumpy. “I don’t care about the weather, or what games are on tonight. I don’t even care about the news. It could be World War 3 and I seriously don't give a shit. Why are we even here?”
“You said you wanted breakfast.”
“I was sleepy when I said that. In the future, Mr West, ignore sleepy Ivy. She knows nothing.”
“Where would you rather be right now?”
I have no shame, nor am I trying to play hard to get. I simply say, “I want to be in your bed, and I want your mouth back on my pussy.”
He’s grinning now. “Like right now, Ivy? Right this second?”
“Yeah.”
“Are you sure?”
“I think I know what my body wants, Mr West.”
He waves at the waitress to come to us, telling me, “Put your jacket back on.”
Oh, snap, this is really happening. He’s listening. My stomach grumbles. I lean over the table really quick before she arrives and say, “Perhaps pack the food. We can eat it in bed after you make me come.”
When he looks at me just then, I’m speechless because I recognize that look.
Mr West is falling into the abyss with me.
*
Music is softly playing in the bedroom. I’m sort of dancing to the beat like an idiot, dunking my waffles into the syrup while Aidan walks around the room naked (his dick is so big even after I’ve sucked him off), phone pressed to his ear. He’s talking business to someone. His face is relaxed. He looks happy, glancing at me periodically with the sexiest look on his face. It’s like a smolder mixed in with amusement. I must look ridiculous. I know this. I’m wearing one of his white generic tees with nothing else underneath. My hair is tied back because he wanted it out of the way of his blowjob. Unfortunately, he’d gripped the shit out of it, so it’s a messy bun now. I’ve seen myself in the mirror in passing to know my cheeks are flushed and I’ve got this dazed look in my eye, the kind you get when you’ve been to Mars – or, in this case, Aidan’s bed.
Yeah, life’s good right now.
“I’m certain about this, Steven,” he says. “Not pulling out, either.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I hear Steven say. “I really wish you’d think this through.”
“I’ve thought it through.”
“Aidan…” and then he continues to talk Aidan’s ear off. This Steven guy is really pushy and needs to relax. Aidan will get to the office when he gets to the office.
He disappears into the bathroom and shuts the door. Aidan’s voice grows firm, and I intentionally don’t try to eavesdrop. He’s closed the door because he doesn’t want me to hear, and he’s a tech guy, so maybe there’s some big secret coding world conspiracy I can’t be privy to (kidding).
Time to switch up the music.
Some Levitating by Dua Lips can’t go wrong. I’m just about to start the music when my phone rings. I pause mid-chew.
Mom.
Oh, God.
It’s happening. She’s found out, hasn’t she? Fuckity fuck.
Admittedly, it’s taken longer than I expected, but the time has come and I’m scared to answer. I stare at her name and wait for the phone call to go to voicemail. A minute later my phone buzzes with a text.
Mother T-REX: Pick up the phone, please, Ivy. I know you’re there. What grown adult doesn’t have their phone attached to their hip?
She calls again, and I just can’t respond. It goes to voicemail again.
Mother T-REX: Ivy, I am not playing around. Pick up the phone.
She calls a third time. I pick up.
“Hi, Mom,” I start.
“What happened?” She’s cutting straight to the point. “Tina just called me, said there’s trouble.”
Tina is Derek’s mother. He’s definitely told her then.
“I’m not living with Derek anymore,” I answer, feeling my chest tighten because talking to her gives me all kinds of anxiety. No matter how many years have passed since I
lived with her, she still gets to me.
“You left him again?” She’s horrified.
“Technically we were never back together, Mom.”
“You went back to work things out with him.”
I roll my eyes. “I went back because you said I couldn’t stay with you.”
“Shawn said the place was too small. You know it was.”
“You have a spare bedroom.”
“It’s being used for essential things.”
Essential things like her shoes and Shawn’s fishing gear. Which were way more important than her daughter’s homelessness at the time. Whatever. Doesn’t matter.
“Where are you now then?” she prods. “At Ana’s?”
“No. I have a different…roommate.” I cringe because I haven’t thought of what to tell her before now. “He’s really clean and keeps to himself, and he’s not even around all that much.” All true things.
“He?”
Oh, boy. Damage control, Ivy. “Yeah, anyway, it’s working out well.”
“Did you cheat on Derek?”
My mouth drops open and a flare of anger surges through my chest. “I think you’re getting that backwards, Mom.”
“I’m simply trying to catch up, Ivy.”
“You seem to do that only after drama goes down and never before.”
“Don’t speak to me with that tone.”
I’m too pissed to care at the moment. “No, you’ve been speaking to me with your shitty tone for years now, looking down at me like you’re this pillar of righteousness.”
“I certainly don’t have your path of destruction behind me, Ivy.” Now she’s getting mad, too. “If you happened to forget, I was against your union with Derek from the start. I said you were too young, didn’t I?”
“You did,” I painfully admit.
“You ran off with him, got married at eighteen and gave me a heart attack, but I came around to it, didn’t I?”
I swallow my pride. “You…did.” Sort of.
“All I ever said was you needed to work it out with him until it was simply not possible to anymore.”