Page 83 of Tender Temptation

“Sure, and…” I hold my tongue, she’s been through enough for now. I’m not going to rip her dad a new asshole…yet.

“He and my mom reacted differently in their grief. He lashed out. She clammed up.” Ivy squints into the distance, as if trying to recall. “Honestly, I guess it’s possible. He never spoke to me like that in front of her either, so maybe that’s how he gets away with it. No witnesses.”

I’mincensed but try to keep my shit together. “Still, she let him take it out on you.”

“No, she truly wasn’t around,” Ivy says this matter-of-factly. “Before yesterday, the worst he’d been was three years ago, when he found out I hadn’t been spending nights at home while I was with you. He screamed at me for days. Called me similar appalling names. It’s why I left.” Her voice breaks and tears well up in her eyes. “But last night… I thought we’d moved past it. To have it happen again was worse than anything I ever imagined. I think I blacked out.”

“I feel sick about it,” I admit. “I wish we’d have told him after your birthday. I can’t unhear what he said to you.”

“I thought he’d changed,” Ivy murmurs. “We tried everything. Went to family counseling…”

Ivy doesn’t say anything more but I know from the shuddering of her body she’s crying. We lie there for a while longer, holding each other. There really isn’t much more to say. Now is my time to be there for my girl and, hopefully, make her feel safe.

At some point, my stomach roars. We didn’t have dinner last night and I’m starving. “How about I make us some breakfast?”

“Sounds good. I don’t think I can handle anything heavy, though.” Her voice is weak,defeated.

I kiss her forehead. “How about some scrambled eggs and toast? Something light to start the day.”

“Yeah.” She looks up at me and I’m relieved to see bit of color returning to her cheeks. “Perfect.”

I lead Ivy, who wears only my sweatshirt, through my townhouse. “It’s hard to believe you’ve never seen this place.” I open the door to the spacious living room. “To think we planned on you moving in after your birthday.”

Ivy looks out the window into the backyard, not really paying attention. “I probably should talk to my mom. Despite everything, I can’t stop worrying about my dad. I need to know he’s okay.”

“Here’s your phone, it was on the charger.” I move behind her and clasp my arms around her middle. “You can call her while I make the eggs.”

“I’m scared.” Ivy leans back against me. “I’m not sure what to say. Or, how I’m supposed to feel.”

I kiss the back of her head several times. “Let’s try to take it one step at a time. Food first. Decisions later.”

Taking her hand, I lead Ivy to the kitchen and get her settled at the counter.

Ivy immediately scans her messages. Her eyes widen and she looks up at me and tells me what I already know. “Mom’s been texting since last night. Dad’s stable andresting. She wants to see us. To check on me and talk to you too. She wants to understand what went down.”

“Do you want to talk to her?” I set her eggs on the counter.

Ivy hesitates. “Um…I don’t know, I don’t feel up to facing more anger or disappointment.”

“Let’s take the day for ourselves, then. Better yet, we’ll make it a self-care day for you, baby.” I gently rub her back.

Ivy spins around on her stool and hooks her heels around my knees. She takes my hand and brings it to her bare pussy and moves my fingers through her folds. My finger finds her clit.

“What do you need, baby?” I circle her nub. “Do you need to come? A little relief?”

Ivy nods furiously. “Yeah. Does that make me a slut?”

Anger burns deep in my soul.

“Of course not. If an orgasm will help release some tension, it’s the ultimate self-care.” I caress her face as I slide my fingers through her wetness. “Let me make it better.”

Ivy nods but looks away, almost like she’s ashamed of expressing her needs.

I slip my fingers inside her and rub. “Enjoying pleasure with the man you love is normal. Don’t let your father’s vile words make you feel less-than. When we have sex, it’s sacred. Every time.”

Ivy spreads her legs, allowing me better access. Soon she’s writhing against my hand.

I pick up the pace. “Does that feel okay?”

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