Mister West

by R. J. Lewis

  “Yes, but it worked, did it not?”

  He chuckles, roaming my body with eager hands.

  “This makes my job of undressing you so much easier,” he notes, running his lips down my neck.

  He slides my underwear off and throws it somewhere on the ground. That’s the end of them. I won’t be seeing those panties the entire night.

  He slowly slides down my body, pulling up my nightgown, kissing down my stomach. I love when he does this because he never kisses around my scar. He kisses over it without care. He spreads my legs wide and buries his mouth at my center. I let out a long shaky breath as his tongue tastes me. He relaxes between my legs like he’s going nowhere, his hands gripping my hips so I can’t move.

  “How could this ever get old?” he breathes, groaning as he continues to build those sparks. “I love every inch of you, Ivy Montcalm. You were put on this earth for me.”

  My fingers dig into his scalp as he takes me over the edge nice and slowly. I see dots in my vision when I hit my high, whispering his name. Then I pull on his hair and bring him back up to my mouth. I taste myself on his lips, and my insides feel funny that he loves what I taste like. He enjoys it so much, his fingers are already massaging my clit again, reviving it.

  “No,” I whisper, grinning. “You’ve given me enough attention.”

  “No such thing,” he mutters.

  I pull away. “Your turn, Mr West,” I whisper, pressing my hand against his chest. He falls back on the mattress, eyes alive. I move down and take his cock into my mouth, already taking him deep. His hand grabs at my ass as I suck him. He squeezes me hard, panting from under me. He hardens immediately. He raises his head to watch me in the darkness; his deep groans fill the room as I pick up my pace.

  His hand leaves my ass and tugs at my night gown. “Take this off,” he demands. “I need your tits in my face, Ivy.”

  I sit up to remove my nightgown. I crawl over him. My legs spread and I settle over him as he grabs at my breasts with both hands and tugs at my nipples. He watches me sitting upright over him, his eyes feasting on my bare flesh, his hands groping at my breasts. I bend over and kiss him, and his hand flies to my ass as I do. He’s palming my breast in one hand, my ass in the other, squeezing both tight.

  I cut the kiss and inch down his body. He immediately tenses as I rest my bare core against his cock. I rock against him, running my folds along his length. His hands fly to my hips and he digs his fingers into my flesh, staring at me with wide eyes, the desire bleeding out of him.

  “Fuck yeah,” he groans, shivering around me. “Ivy, fuck.”

  I continue to rub him, feeling pleasure course through me as it touches against my clit. I shut my eyes, moving faster.

  “Aidan,” I plead, “I want you inside me.”

  “Not yet, baby,” he lets out in a strained voice, his fingers digging harder into my hips as he has me rocking back and forth.

  “Please.”

  “Don’t beg,” he rushes out. “I’m weak when you beg, Ivy.”

  “But why?” I ask, sitting upright now to look at him, still moving my hips, still feeling like I’m going to come any second. He’s so thick under me, I feel like I’m sitting on a fucking log. He looks down at my pussy, then my bare breasts, his eyes glazing over.

  “I don’t trust myself around you,” he finally admits vaguely.

  I pause to look down at him. “There’s nothing you can do that would be crossing the line, Aidan. I’m free now.”

  He swallows, fingers digging into my hips now to keep me still instead. “Ivy, you’re free in the physical sense. It’s your heart I’m concerned about.”

  I rock again, and his head comes up, looking down at the contact, at my sensitive skin rubbing along the length of him. He holds me tighter now, forcing me in place.

  “I’m a big girl,” I whisper, feeling more sparks shoot through me. “I know what I want.”

  He looks up at me now, his face solemn. “Says every person who dives in too soon after a breakup.”

  “You’re worried I’m going too fast?”

  I rock again and his head falls back into the pillow. He groans deep into his throat. Fuck, the sound of him in pleasure is turning me on.

  Through clenched teeth, he takes breaths and says, “I’m worried you’re still so hurt, you can’t process your feelings. When I have you, I want all of you. I want you to be emotionally available for me.” He holds me with more force, not allowing me to rock anymore, staring me straight in the eyes as he adds, “Let me make it clear so that there is no confusion, Ivy: you are not a fling to me.”

  I look down at him, mouth parted because I’m literally going to come just from watching him alone. “I have been emotionally ready to move on for a long time now,” I tell him through shaky breaths. “It was breaking the bond and walking out I struggled with. Besides, you won’t hurt me, will you?

  He lets out a dry chuckle, pinning me with a cautious stare like he’s fighting to hide his emotions. “Ivy,” he says wryly, “you’re the one with all the power. To relinquish myself to you, I have to trust that it won’t be you that does the hurting.”

  Aidan is so vulnerable when he’s in the throes of passion. It’s one of the few times he truly lets his guard down and lets me see everything.

  He’s terrified.

  I want to laugh. He’s terrified of me hurting him. It is so ludicrous. He can pretend all he wants, but he knows he owns our dynamic. I’m malleable in his hands and I only show resistance to hide my desperate need to be touched by him.

  I’m waiting for his cocky smile, for him to exercise those skills on me, but he’s not doing that. He’s staring at me, and there’s a sudden shift in his expression now, like he’s realized what he’s said and wants to take it back. I go still, taken off guard by the want bleeding out of his eyes, replaced by a hardness I’ve never seen.

  “Off, Ivy,” he tells me sharply.

  I slide off him straightaway, confused. He runs a hand over his face. He’s tense now, almost…angry.

  “Fuck,” he whispers, frustrated. “Fuck.”

  The room is tense. It’s like badly tense, too. Not the kind of tense you can ride out with an awkward smile. We can’t laugh this off because he’s too upset with himself. Or me. I don’t know which one it is.

  Shit.

  “I should leave,” I mutter.

  I quickly jump off the bed and grab my nightgown and panties. I slip them on, watching him every few moments. Maybe he’ll notice I’m about to leave and stop me. I want that to happen so badly. But he completely ignores me. His chest is moving rapidly. He’s trying to calm down, but from what? What did I do to trigger him? The flames have been put out and it’s suddenly cold in the room.

  I get out of there in a flash. I rush to my room and shut the door. Then I stand in the darkness, unsure how to process the situation. After a while, I collapse into the bed and cradle the pillow to my chest.

  This room is empty, stale, and doesn’t smell like him.

  I don’t sleep.

  Twenty-Four

  Ivy

  Okay, so things didn’t magically go back to normal like I hoped.

  It’s been a week of very awkward run-ins. The awkward part is coming more from me, if we’re going to be brutally honest. I sort of laid myself out there in that bedroom, sat on him and everything, pretty much begged to be fucked.

  It was unbecoming of me.

  Every time we cross paths – which have been few lately, thank fuck – I haven’t been able to meet his eye. I look down at my feet or smile at a spot above his head – the latter must look so fucking disturbing now that I think about it.

  Our conversations consist of:

  “Good night, Aidan.”

  “Good night, Ivy.”

  And that’s it.

  Like that’s it, for real.

  Because the few times we have run into each other have been in the evenings and in the hall on my way to the bedroom and on his way out
of his.

  Good times.

  “Relax,” Ana says as we walk through Byward market, sipping on our coffees. “Men aren’t very expressive with their emotions, and he got super expressive in the heat of the moment.”

  “We haven’t talked since, Ana. Not even messaged. I feel like he hates me.”

  “Opposite. He’s realizing how much you mean to him and he’s scared shitless.”

  “I don’t know about that.”

  “Look him up,” she tells me then. “You’ll understand me when I say he is not the type of man that ever gets close to anyone.”

  “I don’t want to look him up,” I reply. “That’s an invasion of his privacy.”

  She raises a brow. “It’s public knowledge.”

  “I promised him I wouldn’t.”

  “How about I just tell you then? It wouldn’t be breaking the rules if it came from a third party.”

  I shake my head. “I can’t.”

  She sighs and stops to look at me. “Then you have to trust me when I say that guy is not used to anyone worming their way into his heart. He’s an ice block. They label him the Asshole of the East, after all.”

  I’m dismayed. “They call him that?”

  “Well, they’ve laid off him a great deal because he never goes to social events or speaks to anyone outside his workplace. He’s that closed down. When you can’t dig into someone’s life because they’re that private, you can’t put them in the news, right?”

  “He is closed down,” I acknowledge. “Like… I feel like he does nothing but work and come home only to do more work. He doesn’t have hobbies.”

  “Anymore,” she adds. “He doesn’t have hobbies anymore. You tell me all these things about him that I’ve never heard about before, so he’s changed. By keeping himself away from his old behaviours, he’s made a remarkable improvement in himself.”

  I think about that for a moment. “He said to me once that by opening his emotions up for me, he’s opened himself up to all the other stuff, too.”

  Ana’s eyes widen with understanding. “Then it sounds like he’s still fighting his old self, doesn’t it?”

  Yeah, it does sound like that.

  “What should I do?” I ask, feeling hopeless. “I want things to be normal again.”

  “So be normal.”

  I flash her a dry look. “Kind of hard to do that. The guy has tasted my vagina, Ana. How do I pretend nothing happened after that?”

  She laughs hard. “Just try it, okay? I think it’ll help mend the bridge between you guys.”

  I can see her point. It might be best if I extended the olive branch.

  We walk back to her car, and she drives me home. Home, I repeat in my head. That place is home now. It still boggles my mind I’m living there. Indeed it needs a lot of work before it feels homely, but that’s a task I’m willing to take. Just need to figure out how to get over this awkward bump in the road with Aidan.

  She parks on Aidan’s side of the parking lot. She ogles his cars with wide eyes as I unload all my stuff from her trunk. She went to my old apartment for me and gathered all my things. She said she didn’t leave a single thing of mine behind. Derek wasn’t there and she used my key. She’s truly the best.

  “How did the place look?” I ask as she comes to my side and helps me.

  “It’s a mess,” she answers. “He’s been drinking himself stupid. Bottles everywhere.”

  “Shit.”

  “He’ll figure himself out. Don’t worry about it.”

  “I just don’t want him to think I’m this cold bitch that doesn’t want the best for him, because I do, Ana. I want him to put his life back together –”

  “Okay, stop right there,” she cuts in, looking annoyed. “I walked through that apartment and all I saw, Ivy, was his stuff littered everywhere. It was so depressing. There was nothing in there that spoke of you. It was his place. You just crashed on the couch, which don’t even get me started on how fucking bullshit it was he didn’t let you have the bed that whole time. Fuck Derek and his bullshit, alright? Just an FYI, Ivy, I also smelled perfume in that place, and I am certain it wasn’t yours. I also noticed some questionable toys, and I know you’re not that kinky. Think about that for me.”

  I don’t respond.

  Ana’s good at telling me how it is.

  She spotted questionable toys. I mull on that for a moment, asking myself if I’m truly surprised that Derek has brought girls back to that place and used toys on them.

  I’m not.

  It just feels weird.

  We take the elevator up to the penthouse. When the doors open and we’re in the front entrance way, I look over at Ana with a giddy smile. Her reaction is priceless.

  “It’s a fucking door,” she tells me.

  “We are so sad,” I reply.

  We laugh on our way inside. She’s looking around, all mesmerized, and I’m taking the bags to the bedroom. She follows closely behind.

  Once we’re my room, she drops the bags she’s carrying and dives into my bed. Her arms spread out. “This is so insane, Ivy. Oh, my God. I’m so fucking happy for you. I can’t believe how amazing this place is.”

  I grin and deposit all my bags into the closet. I dump them there on the floor, not about to start unpacking this shit. That can wait.

  “What do you think this place is worth?” she asks me now.

  “I don’t know.”

  She lifts her head to look at me. “His place in Montreal sold for 37 million dollars.”

  I freeze. “I hope you’re kidding.”

  “Nope.” Her head falls back. “How does it feel to live with a loaded guy? A loaded guy that went down on you, too.”

  I shrug, making my way to the other bags she left on the floor. “I don’t think about the money part. It’s not like that. I don’t even notice it, to be honest.”

  “Oh, my God, these are silk sheets too. How are you not able to sleep in here alone?”

  I throw the other bags into the closet. “It’s the quiet, Ana. I can hear my own heart beating in the night.” And it hurts when it beats because it’s ruptured and bleeding. Deep inside I know there’s a lot of work that needs to be done before I’m completely okay. I’m just not able to confront it because it hurts too much.

  I shut the door. Ana sits back up now and watches me, already sensing my mood is off.

  “Oh, Ivy,” she says sweetly. “You’re so strong. I love you, you know that? And I’m so fucking proud of you for everything.”

  I smile at her because if I don’t, I’ll just cry. She spreads her arms out for me and I go to her. She wraps me in her arms and holds me to her.

  “I love you too, Ana,” I say. “Thanks for being there for me. I know how crazy it looked on the outside, like I wouldn’t leave, and you couldn’t understand why –”

  “No one has the right to judge you, okay?” she cuts in. “You don’t need to explain yourself, especially to me.”

  “Thanks.”

  “How about we go out for the night? It’s Friday and when was the last time we got to do something together this late in the day?”

  “It’s been too long.”

  She pulls away and jumps off the bed, rushing straight to my closet. “I’m sure there’s something we can wear. You’re practically my size, too, right?”

  I laugh. “I’m like a foot shorter than you. Any dress I own will stop just under your ass.”

  She flashes me a smile. “What’s wrong with that?”

  I grin. “Nothing.”

  “That’s right. Get your ass up. We’re going to have fun tonight.”

  Twenty-Five

  Ivy

  “I can’t believe you managed to grab everything,” I tell her after going through some bags. “I don’t even remember owning these clothes.”

  I’m wearing a black minidress. It’s simple and stunning. I must have bought it years ago when I used to always go out.

  “Yeah, I had to really dig into your clo
set,” she replies, running her hand down her white dress. Like expected, it’s so itty bitty. It compliments her long blonde hair. She’s insanely beautiful.

  I’m sitting on the edge of the tub, closing my eyes as she then runs the eyeshadow brush over my lids. She’s got all my make-up laid out on the bathroom counter, and she’s been working on my face a lot longer than it took for us to dress.

  “Are you almost done?” I ask.

  “Almost,” she answers. “I’m taking my time because it’s been so long since you’ve been out, babe. I want to make sure you’re getting the attention you deserve.”

  I smile, feeling my cheeks warm. “I’m really excited to be honest.”

  She does my lips next, coating them with red lipstick. It’s super bold. I’m almost terrified to look at myself in the mirror.

  “All done,” she announces, turning back to the counter to put away the make-up.

  I stand up and stare at myself in the mirror. I immediately freeze. I don’t even recognize myself. I look warmly at Ana. She used to do this to me all the time. It’s been so long. I wrap my arms around her and squeeze. “Thank you, Ana Banana.”

  “You’re welcome, hot stuff.”

  I pack my black clutch purse with my wallet and cracked phone. Ana’s got a similar one in white she found in one of the bags. We leave the bedroom and hurry down the hall.

  “Are we going to use your chauffeur?” she asks. “It would mean you can drink with me tonight.”

  I laugh. “I don’t think he’s meant for that.”

  We stop at the kitchen and I’m bending down to get my heels on. She’s doing the same.

  “Do you think West would mind though?”

  “Mind what?” a voice cuts in.

  Ana bolts upright, and I take a lot longer doing so. He’s here already? My heart is immediately in my throat as I stand up straight. Aidan’s standing outside of the kitchen in the foyer. I think he’s just come home. He’s wearing a deep blue suit and a grey tie. Of course he looks incredible, like he’s walked off the pages of a freaking magazine.

  His eyes immediately find mine. He doesn’t look at what I’m wearing. His eyes are pinned solely on my face, no emotion escaping him. He stares at me for a long beat before looking at Ana, raising his brows, waiting for an answer.