Chapter Forty - Ivy
God, he is so broken right now. I don’t like it. I hate it, in fact. He is a good person. “I was a little scared, Nolan. But every time I got to that point, you were there with something reassuring. The pretty picture stuff. The laugh. Kissing me behind the knee. I knew it was a fantasy. Even when I didn’t. I trusted you to just be… so goddamned good at what you do that I let myself believe. I believed in you, Mr. Romantic.”
Nolan shakes his head, but I get a small smile.
“And,” I say, “you’re in luck. Because I told you earlier. I have a great plan for Hundred Palms Resort. I’m here to save you from certain doom.”
“Is that right?” He smiles bigger this time.
“Yes. I have my presentation all geared up and ready—aww, I think I left my purse in your car.” I get a small laugh out of him for that remark and it lifts my spirits. I can’t stand to see him this way. I never once thought about how his past might affect the way he acts now. Not really. I made lots of assumptions. Made lots of accusations, in fact. But it never even entered my mind that he’d be repressing pent-up anger and sadness over what he lost that night. Not just his life, but his sense of self.
“Want me to fly back and get it?” Nolan asks.
“Are we done here tonight?”
“Do you want to be done?”
“Um, no. I can see there’s something going on in the bathroom, Mr. Romantic. I want whatever all that is for.”
Nolan takes my hand and leads me towards the bathroom. There’s soft flickering light making shadows on the walls, and when we enter, the sight takes my breath away.
“You did this?”
“Do you like it?”
I love it. The entire room is filled with candles. And there’s a balcony on the far end, also filled with candles. This is what I saw from outside on the helipad.
“I made that pilot come in here and set it all up before he met us out in back. He was pretty pissed about it.”
“Are we taking a bath?”
Nolan walks over to the tub and checks the water. It’s still steaming. There are pink rose petals floating on top of the water and scattered in between are small ivy leaves.
“God, you really are romantic.”
“Well, I have more plans for this than meets the eye.” He drops his pants and takes off his thoroughly wrinkled dress shirt, throwing it on the ground.
I can’t stop my grin, so I step forward and dip a toe into the water. “It’s hot!” But it feels wonderful after all we did tonight. I step all the way in and the memory of the cold pool water disappears into the thick steam. “Are you coming in?” I ask.
Nolan nods, then gets in behind me and sits down, hissing from the heat. “Sit, Ivy. This is where I make it all better.”
I sit and lean back. His strong hands massage my shoulders as I relax and let the heat overtake me. My body is exhausted, but in a very good way. Nolan leans back and I lean with him. He hikes my leg over his, spreading my legs open so he can reach down and begin to stroke me softly. He doesn’t enter me. I’m glad, too. Just strokes lightly so that the familiar throbbing is back between my legs.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “But I can’t let this go to waste.”
“What—Ahhh!”
The hot wax is dripping down my breast. It makes it to the tip of my nipple, then merges with the water and hardens.
“It’s your turn, Ivy. Just relax and enjoy it.”
I close my eyes and let him do whatever he wants. Which, it turns out, is everything I want too. The wax is hot and erotic. His fingers are gentle and perfect. I come three times in the tub. One as he plays with the candles. Once when he sits me on the ledge of the tub and licks my pussy like he’s starving. And once when I suck him off and swallow everything he has to offer.
Later, when we’re clean and tired in all the right ways, aching in all the right places, and relaxed enough to start thinking of sleep, he leads me out of this room and takes me through this maze of a house and into another one.
Fresh sheets on the bed, fresh candles ready to be lit, pink rose petals scattered all over the floor, and the softest silk lingerie.
That seals the deal for me.
I watch him fall asleep, my body tugged up tight against his, like he’s afraid I’ll walk out in the middle of the night.
I’m in love. I might not be the most experienced woman, but I know what I’ll be missing if Mr. Romantic ever gets away.
Everything.
I’ll be missing everything.