My body warms at her words, so I pull her off me to sit on the side of the bed. Having her on top of me is too distracting. “I can’t promise I’ll be gentle with you, and you need that. I’m older. More experienced. You should do this with someone your own age.”
She scoffs, scrunching up her face. “Says who? Why do you think I can’t handle who you are, Void? I’ve bricked a man up behind a wall, sealing him to his death. I grow crops of weed for a living right next to my bedroom. I live in an underground bunker with dead and decaying bodies hidden inside the walls. What makes you think for a single second I’m this sweet, innocent little flower?”
Like the degenerate I am, an image flashes through my mind—Ivy tied naked to a Saint Andrew’s cross, submitting to my every dark, depraved desire. I shake my head, ridding Ivy from intruding and mixing with images of my fucking past. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“Then don’t. Stop pushing me away. Let. Me. In!”
“Spend less time with Dash.” It comes out more like a demand than a question.
“He’s a friend. Plus, we work together. How can I spend less time with him?”
“He likes you,” I reply.
“No, he doesn’t—”
“Yes, he does. How could he not?”
She narrows her eyes on me cheekily. “Are you saying you like me?”
“Don’t change the subject.”
“You’re avoiding the question, Void.”
I groan. “I think it’s clear that I like you. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t be worried about hurting you.”
She leans in, gently kissing my lips. “I like you too.”
I roll my eyes. It’s like we’re in fucking high school, but I can’t help but feel a sense of accomplishment that she has said that to me.
Ivy stands, then she moves for the door. “I’m going to get something for you to eat, okay?” I go to rise, intending to follow, but she throws her hands out. “Stop! You stay put and rest. I got this.”
I nod, slumping back on the bed. Then she opens the door and walks out, closing it behind her.
Did that just happen?
Or am I still tripping?
I press my hand against my hard cock. “Yeah, that just happened.”
The problem is, eventually, Ivy’s going to want to go further, so I’m going to need an action plan for that day to try to keep myself in check.
My door swings open with force, and my eyes shift up, expecting Ivy to walk in, but it’s Nycto. Frown lines mar his face as he strolls in. He slumps into the desk chair and rolls it over to the bed, then kicks his feet up onto the edge of the mattress, making himself perfectly at home. Folding his arms over his chest, he lets out a grumble of expletives under his breath as I wait for what I know is coming next.
“Can you even fathom… how damn stupid it was for you to ride with alcohol and drugs in your system? Riding buzzed is one thing, but riding trashed? You fucking idiot! You’re lucky there was no one around to witness that shit.”
Regret swarms through me as I release a long exhale. I have no answer for him. So, instead, I ask, “How’s my ride?”
“Totaled. A mangled wreck. It’s amazing you’ve come out of this so well and aren’t lying on a slab in the morgue. If you weren’t so fucking high and off with the fairies, you probably would have tensed and come out of this a hell of a lot worse. But you’re paying for it, and you fucked your bike in the process. What do you wanna do about a new one?”
“I’ll go shopping when I’m a little more… functional.”
Nycto rubs his hand over the back of his neck, a frustrated tell. “You and Ivy?”
“There’s nothing to report. We kissed, but as far as I’m concerned, we’re taking this shit fucking slow. We need to.”
Nycto bobs his head in understanding. “I get it. Your past makes relationships difficult at the best of times. Ivy’s throwing a wrench into the mix, being the way she is.”
“You got that right.”