Remember Ivy from End Game? Well, she's back with her own story. But don't worry if you haven't read End Game, this can be read as a standalone.
We follow Ivy as she returns to London having been offered a job at Risk, the Kink Club owned by Za...
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~ ~ Alex ~ ~
A steady beat fell like a hammer in my head as Ivy's lips slipped from mine, easing back, our gazes locked.
"So, you want to start here? Or head upstairs to my place? Her small hand bunched in my t-shirt. And I watched her lips move, but the words weren't sinking in. "I'm good with either—you pick."
Stay or her place? ...She had heard what I'd said, right?
Shut the fuck up, dickhead, and get with the program. The. Woman. Wants. You!
Ignoring the voice, my eyebrows scrunched. "Y-y-you understand what I meant when I s-said rough?" Yeah, I'm repeating myself because this kind of shit didn't happen to me—Ever!
Her slow smile eased the knot in my stomach... a fraction, at least.
"Ah-huh," she hummed as if it was no big deal. "I trust you."
Trust me? Hell, I wasn't sure if I trusted me. Fantasy stayed as fantasy for a reason.
Had she done this before—with other men?
The knot in my gut bunched up tighter. As much as I was an open book kinda guy. The idea of her with other men didn't sit right with me. Apart from Josh, because I wanted Josh to be happy, above my own happiness.
Fucking loser.
"I get it Alexander. You like rough sex. And I'm down with that." She rolled her lips together. Loosening the grip of my shirt. "But—" She flattered her hand against my chest, patting it once. "You're right. We need to set a couple of ground rules."
Her smile lit up my insides. "I was getting way ahead of myself." She moved her hand, wagging a finger. "Dayum. You know it's all your fault, right? For being so sexy-ass hot." She winked. "I can barely keep my hand off you right now."
The biggest, cheesiest grin was splitting my face in two, loving her forwardness.
I waited for a snarky comment from my inner torment—but it stayed quiet.
But still, I had to ask. "So you don't think I'm some kind of weirdo? A deviant. A mentally disturbed freak or a pervert?" I tossed out all the labels I'd attached to myself. And we could toss in crazy if she ever heard the voice that tormented me every fucking day.
Fucking loser. And there it was... back again.
Ivy rolled her eyes so hard I thought they might get stuck. "Pfft. The question should be. Did you not hear me, Alexander?"
Ivy's the first person I'd told this to face to face and to be honest, my head was still playing catch up.
She grabbed my hand, flicking her head toward the bed. "C'mon. Let's sit."
