Page 33 of Born To Be Bad

“I think you might be getting your religious texts mixed up.”

“They’re all the same though, aren’t they? Same source material.”

“Delusional men?” I ask.

She shrugs again and lies back, giving me her other foot. “Something like that.”

“Did you have any epiphanies?”

“Just that I shouldn’t expect you to be perfect. I shouldn’t expect our relationship to be perfect.”

“I want it to be.”

“Me, too. You’re so wonderful to me and my family that I get lulled into thinking you can’t set a foot wrong. But it seems that you’re human after all.”

“What a disappointment,” I reply, hoping for a smile.

“You’re not a disappointment,” she states. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me. That’s what makes this difficult.”

“You deserve better,” I insist.

Ivy sniffs. “You’re wrong. You’ve changed everything for me. I was broke, hopeless, traumatized, and ready to give up on men.”

“Perhaps you should have stuck with that last one.”

Ivy’s expression remains serious. “You opened up a whole new life for me. With hope and beauty and desire and magic.”

My shoulders fall. “And then I fucked it all up.”

“No,” she she says, touching my knee. She’s shaking her head. “No, Alistair, you haven’t fucked anything up. You made a mistake. We both made mistakes. And being human, we’ll probably be making a fair number of mistakes in the future.”

“I hate hurting you,” I say. “More than anything. I’m so sorry for shouting like that. It’ll never happen again. I promise.”

Ivy watches me, waits for me to finish, then nods. “Okay. Because as much as I love you, that’s something I can’t—I won’t—accept.”

“Absolutely,” I agree. “If someone else shouted at you, I’d lose my shit. I can’t believe I was the one yelling. Sorry.”

“I mean, if there’s a fire in the house, or you’re tipped overboard on your yacht. Then you can shout. Then I might even try to save you.”

“Nah, I reply. “I wouldn’t bother if I were you. Rather let me sleep with the fishes. You can have all my money.”

“Tempting.” Ivy smiles properly for the first time since my transgression. “But I’d rather have your hot body than your money. Money’s great and all, but I don’t have multiple orgasms with gold bars.”

“Hmm. Maybe you’re doing it wrong.”

She chuckles. “In that case, will you teach me how to do it right?”

“I thought you’d never ask.” I lean in and part her lips with my tongue. She tastes like chocolate. I kiss her slowly and feel her relax into the embrace.

“Money doesn’t kiss like that,” she says. “Cheater.”

“You could pay someone to kiss you,” I suggest.

“Not like that,” she replies, and we kiss again.

“Talking about money,” I murmur, my cock firming. “You said you needed some. How do you want it? I can get my banker to open a high-interest account for you. Or maybe you’d prefer going analog—a blank checkbook?”

Ivy’s eyes glint with mischief. “Oh my god, I’m so turned on right now. Say it again.”

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