Page 72 of Yours Truly

“Firecracker,” I groan, licking the insides of her thighs, unable to leave my new favorite spot.

“Trace,” she breathes, pushing her hands through her hair, exposing her flushed cheeks and bright eyes. “That was so good,” she says, her compliment landing ten thousand times more powerful than any compliment in the studio. Being praised by Ivy makes my skin hot and my groin tight. She lowers a hand to my face, cupping my cheek as much as she can. “Get on your knees, on the bed,” she whispers.

“Ivy, I can’t—I can’t fuck you,” I admit sheepishly, because motherfucker. I have never wanted to be inside of someone so badly.

She smirks. “I know. I knew you came. I knew you were going to come. But I want to see it.” She sits up farther, scooting her pussy away from me. “Show me the mess you made.”

I get to my knees, finding the pool of cum on the quilt, smeared along my stomach, rivulets hanging in my happy trail.

After surveying the mess, I look up at her, finding her smiling at me. “You fucked up your quilt.”

“Actually,” I smile, grabbing a towel from the floor. I think this was yesterday’s shower towel. I get to work cleaning up the mess as I eye her on my bed. “I fucked the quilt, but fortunately she’s not looking for anything serious.”

Ivy laughs, bringing her hand to her collarbone. “So corny.”

I cock a brow as I finish wiping up what I can, off my body and then hers. Her orgasm was messy, and fuck if I don’t wanna get hard again just thinking about it. “You like my corny,” I reply, outstretching a hand to her. She takes it with a questioning look.

“Where are we going?” she asks as I drag her off the mattress. I gather her clothes from the floor, and she puts her hand out, ready to take them.

“I’ll dress you,” I reply. That’s the first time I’ve said that. “But you’re wearing one of my shirts.”

“Okay, but don’t forget, you need to rinse my panties out in the sink.” She folds her arms over her chest, nodding toward the open bathroom door. Without question, I do as she says, getting hard again as I stroke my thumb over the damp strip of white cotton centering her thong. Why is this so hot? I don’t know, but as I rinse them beneath the tap, I catch sight of the firecracker on my hip.

My eyes burn and my chest tightens. I lift my gaze to the mirror, finding my reflection in a powerful moment wherein I realize… This tattoo means the most.

I love Ivy.

TWENTY-ONE

I’ve never met anyone like you, Firecracker.

Ivy

Bringing the shirt to my nose again, I suck down another noseful. And like every time I’ve smelled it before, needful bumps spread along my skin, and my pulse picks up.

“Smelling your man’s shirt again?” Juni asks, popping her hip against my bedroom door frame, her jam-stained apron tied to her body.

I nod, holding it to my nose again for one final hit of the good shit before I get dressed. “Just call me Dolly,” I tease, but before Juni can laugh, my pregnant younger sister bustles in, a hand on her belly.

“Speak of the obsessive beauty,” I tease as Dolly comes to my side, pulling me into a hug.

“Good morning and hey, if you’re taking after me,” she rubs her belly again, “that’s a good thing. Look at how my obsession paid out,” she says, using air quotes around obsession as if it were alleged.

“That’s true,” Juniper says, braiding her long blonde hair. “Do you think it’s headed that way? Ring and bump, I mean?”

I shrug, knowing the little twist in my gut is praying for those things to happen. “I never thought that the man I admire most would ever even know I exist. But look, now we work together and he’s my mentor and?—”

“Your plaything,” Dolly adds, wiggling her eyebrows.

Yeah, my sisters have the full rap sheet on what’s happened so far. They’re my best friends, and if I don’t share the high level details with them, it feels like a betrayal.

Obviously dick size and the copious amounts of cum that Trace expels are for me only. But admitting to them that I’ve been playing around with him, trying to make him work for me, work for something that fulfills him and leaves him happy when he puts his head on the pillow each night— that’s sharable. Because I’m proud. I’m proud of the patience, the forgiveness, the power, everything I’ve done with Trace, short of lying about a contract, gives me confidence.

Laughing, I feed my arms through his t-shirt and agree. “Yeah, my plaything. But I mean, if all of that happened, anything can happen.”

Juniper comes into the room and takes a seat on the edge of the bed, handing me my black pair of leggings. I jump into them. “What do you want to happen?” she asks. Dolly tips her head to the side, her blonde hair falling over her shoulder. “Yeah, Ivy, what do you want with him?”

I shake my head, because it’s so much but also so simple. “Everything.”

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