Page 45 of Play the Last Card

Another whimper comes from her throat and my hands fall to her hips, fingers slipping under the fabric of her sweatpants and digging into her skin. I move her against me and she responds instantly, grinding down on my lap.

“Fuck,” I murmur into her neck. Her hands press into my chest, resting back a little.

I meet her eyes to find the challenge written as clear as day in them. She smirks, her hands fisting the fabric of my hoodie again and tugging. I don’t hesitate, reaching behind my head and yanking the fabric off my body.

My t-shirt goes with it.

My hands slide up her waist. My fingers splay out, dipping under the crop top she's wearing. My thumbs brush the underside of her breasts, curving over the swell of them and to their peaks.

Ivy smiles.

I circle a thumb around one hard nipple and press down. Her mouth falls open a little and she sighs, the pleasure radiating in waves of heat from her skin. Fuck, but I want to suck on her tits so badly. I want to map them out with my tongue, not just my fingers. She falls forward, her lips coming back to mine.

I let her nibble and suck and take control. My hands explore her body, content with mapping out her firm, full breasts.

Another whimper, another groan. She rolls her hips against mine and there’s no way to hide the hardness now.

My hands slip, fingering the edge of her sweats. I pull back from her mouth, kissing the corner once more, and catch her gaze.

“Can I?” The rasp in my voice is deep and I lick my lips in anticipation. Fuck, did I want to taste her. Have her shaking, and moaning, and calling out my name beneath me.

A small voice, sounding oddly like Flynn, suddenly breaks through.

Tell her first. Stop and tell her.

But then with the pull of her bottom lip between her teeth and a definitive nod from Ivy, the voice dies. A smirk lifts on my lips and I dive into her neck, sucking and nipping at the skin. I inhale, fingers dipping under the waistband and between her legs.

She’s so fucking wet.

My fingers slip through her as I coat them, gently caressing her. I swear, I could get high on just her alone.

A loud ringing breaks us apart. Ivy jumps in my arms, flinching at the interruption. I pull my hand back, just a little, finding the soft crease where her hip meets thigh. She hesitates for a moment, adjusting on my lap as she leans back. Her fingers scrape down my bare chest as she hovers over me, eyes on her ringing phone, lighting up on the side table.

I lift my hand, trailing my fingers up her side to stroke her cheek as the expression in her face shifts from heated to fearful.

“What?” I ask, fingers stroking her soft skin. “What is it? Who’s calling?”

Ivy crawls from my lap, not answering me. She snatches her phone from the side table, bringing it to her ear. “Hello?”

The muffled voices drift out from her phone and I stiffen, sitting up beside her. Ivy slumps as she listens. “What do you mean?”

Another pause, more muffled voices.

“How … how did that happen? Is he … yes. I’ll come now. Thank you.” The last of her words are nothing more than choked sobs. I watch as she slumps, the hand holding her phone to her ear slumping by her side in defeat, her eyes filling with tears.

“Ivy?” I ask her, worry and panic filtering through me as I sit up, reaching for her. I lift my hands, and place one on her cheek and the other on her collarbone trying to get her attention.

“I–I’m sorry but I have to … go,” she hiccups. Then she’s scrambling. Falling over her feet.

I stand and steady her, my hand wrapping around her elbow.

“Hey, hey, hey.” She tries to get herself free, tears filling up her eyes. My heart aches as I tighten my grip. “Ivy, look at me.”

She stills, her chest heaving, but she looks up just as the tear finally rolls down her cheek. Everything in me breaks for her. I wipe it away, asking quietly, “What’s happened?

“My pops. He–he fell in the shower … they said he lost consciousness … that he wasn’t breathing for a bit …” she sobs. I pull her into my chest. Her next words are muffled sobs against my chest as I run a hand up and down her back, trying to calm her a little. “I can’t lose him. I can’t.”

Her panic seems to settle something inside me and I take control. I press a kiss into her hair before peeling her away from my chest. I don’t let her go as I move us down the hall, picking up my shirt and hoodie from the floor as we go. In the entryway, I sit her on the small bench that has a number of pairs of shoes lined underneath. Taking a pair of tennis shoes that I’ve seen her wear before so I know they’re hers, I kneel down onto my knee. She clutches my shoulders, leaning her weight into me as I slip each of the shoes on one at a time.

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