Page 112 of Sliding Into Love
“Should I…” Ethan trailed off, also staring up at the ceiling.
“Not if you value your safety. The last time I checked in on them, about an hour ago, Andrew threatened me with tweezers and moisturizer.” With a shudder, Jimmy drained his glass.
Grimacing, Ethan mirrored the movement, then set his glass on the sideboard. Maybe it was the whiskey or some weird masochistic curiosity, but he retrieved his tux from the coat rack near the door and headed up the stairs in search of his fiancée.
Soft piano music trickled down the stairs, along with a flowery scent he associated with Laura, and Ethan paused, praying Andrew hadn’t doused Ivy in the same perfume his mother wore.
Hell, he’d be scarred for life.
Ethan was reaching for the doorknob when it was wrenched open from the other side and a shiny, bronzed pate poked out.
“Go on, you. She’ll be ready soon.” Andrew waved his thin fingers in Ethan’s face before pointing behind him at the stairwell.
Following orders and swearing under his breath, Ethan turned back to the stairs, but went up instead of down, heading to the library.
Ethan picked up and set down about a dozen books, eventually giving up and changing into his tux. When the door opened, he was brooding silently on a wingback chair. He’d left the overhead lights off, with the only illumination in the room coming from the hallway.
The soft yellow glow cast Ivy in silhouette, hiding her face. He couldn't see what she wore, but the outline of her body was sinful.
And then she stepped out of the light into the duskiness of the room. As his vision adjusted, Ethan realized sin was indeed the correct word. Her hair was neatly pinned to fall over one shoulder, with a structured wave nearly hiding one eye. Ivy’s eyes were lined with a black much more dramatic than her usual soft brown, and as such completely changed the angle and color of her eyes. And her mouth…dark red, nearly black, like liquid sin, had been painted on her lips. Ethan could only think of her pretty, painted mouth wrapped around his cock.
“Ahem,” Ivy cleared her throat pointedly, and Ethan's ears burned.
“Fuck, Ivy.”
“Thank you. I think.” Ivy chuckled nervously, taking a step forward so he could see the dress.
Black velvet skimmed over her arms and to the floor, the hem draping around her almost demurely. But the cut of the dress was anything but demure. The bodice fell over her torso in a deep v, with soft golden skin and a hint of the curve of her breasts peeking from beneath the black fabric. As she took another step forward, the dress fell open to reveal a slit to her mid-thigh, and Ethan nearly swallowed his tongue.
“Fuck, Ivy,” he rasped out.
“You said that already.”
“Yeah, but it’s accurate. You look…fuck.” Normally, he prided himself on being fairly articulate for an oversized professional athlete, but the sight of his fiancée in his signature color had rendered him a monosyllabic caveman.
“You like it?” Ivy asked, reaching up to touch her hair but stopping her hand halfway.
“Like it?” Ethan replied, closing the distance between them and smoothing his hand over her waist. His fingers brushed over the bare skin on her back, and he had to remind himself to breathe, and not to shove her up against the bookshelves and ruck the skirt up around her waist and—
“Fuck, Ivy.” He dragged his eyes away back up to her face. Her eyes were dark and half-lidded, her mouth open in a pant.
“You’ve said that a few times now.”
“Would it make you happy if I said ‘goddamn’ instead?” he grunted. “Becausegoddamn, Ivy. Holy shit, Ivy. This dress is…youare breathtaking.”
"No one has ever said that to me before.” A little crack in her voice broke him.
“I should tell you every day. You’ve taken my breath away a million times since the moment I met you.”
“You better kiss me before I cry and ruin this makeup.” But she made the first move, grasping his lapels and pulling him closer.
Carefully, he kissed her until something about the velvet dress beneath his hands turned him wild, and he pushed her back against the shelves, kissing her senseless.
He longed to press his fingers between her legs, to slip into her soft, wet heat, but there was no time for all the things he wanted to do to her. Reluctantly, he backed away, taking in the sight of her, all heavy-lidded and disheveled in the half-dark.
Ethan really,reallywanted to skip the gala. To stay home and take his time with her.
“We should probably go.” He eased a finger into the neckline of the dress, tugging it back into place with a brush over a nipple for good measure. Ivy snorted a laugh.
