Creed
I growled under my breath again. I wasn’t even listening to Buzz, but whatever he was saying was really getting on my nerves. The sound of his voice was just grating on my nerves, and I desperately wanted to hit him in his stupid face.
Buzz was tall and gangly; he looked more like a prepubescent teenager that hadn’t grown into his long limbs yet, but he was a full adult. An adult who looked like someone pulled him through a taffy machine and stretched him out. The kid had orange hair and tattoos all over nearly every inch of his skin except for his face. When he grinned, I was forced to see the black hole where his two front teeth were missing. Probably because Buzz never knew when to shut his mouth. Like right now.
If I was being honest with myself, which I was not, I would’ve realized this newfound irritation was with Ivy’s success with everyone inside of the gang. She was scared at first, which should have had her running away screaming, never to seen around me or my boy again. But once again, I had underestimated her strength. As soon as old Pearl got a hold of her, Ivy relaxed. She even met a few of the men and seemed happy about it.
She had the fucking nerve to be happy about it.
Fuming, I watched Ivy closely as she took up half of the cooking duty with Pearl, helping to serve up food with winks and smiles. My boys warmed up to her nearly as quickly, their stares turning from a hunter’s glare to something close to respect.
It didn’t seem possible.
I ignored the warmth that flowed through my body, seeing her blending into the surroundings all of the sudden. I ignored the tightness in my stomach and in my jeans. Or at least I tried to.
For the most part, Ivy ensured I was completely and totally unable to think about anything but her.
“There’s only one thing left to try,” I thought, my chest tightening. I’ll have to fuck her, then ignore her. A broken heart will chase her off, no matter what.
I mulled over the decision for the rest of the evening, my eyes locked with Ivy’s amazing body. I liked the idea of making her body mine; who wouldn’t? Ivy was hot, hotter than any woman I’d ever seen. There was something intoxicating about the idea of wrapping my hands in the mocha-colored waves of her beautiful hair. Something wicked about taking the kind of pretty innocence of hers away in one, long, glorious night.
Half of me was on fire for her, the other half full of doubts. Would I ever truly be able to shake Ivy from my life? I didn’t have any answers, and that knowledge sat like a brick in the bottom of my stomach.
Bax, seeming to follow my thoughts as they manifested in my expression, turned to Josh. “Hey, kiddo; you want to come over my place for the night? I have some new zombie movies for us to watch. You up for a good scare?”
Josh’s little face lit up like a Christmas tree, his eyes sparkling. “Yes, yes, yes! That would be awesome!” Josh started asking questions about what movies Bax had in mind, but I could no longer hear him around the roaring in my ears.
Tonight, Ivy would be mine.
Soon after that, I took Ivy home on my motorcycle. It was nearly impossible to keep my hands to myself. I began to wonder if this plan was such a good idea, but I was already in too deep to stop myself. I could feel my eyes and my mind wandering to her body at every opportunity, and my eyes followed her body as it swayed up the stairs to her room. Fire burned in me at every peek of skin I got, every flash of her beautiful chocolate eyes, every blush, every move. It was like gravity.
Before she could protest, I took hold of her wrist and nearly dragged her up the remaining stairs to our floor. She made a small sound in the back of her throat, her eyes a little too wide as I pulled her along. “Open it,” I growled as we made it to her door.
Hands quivering, Ivy pulled her key out of her pocket and unlocked the door. She stood there, frozen, her hands shaking. Ivy wouldn’t look at me. So I turned the door handle myself, pushing into her room and dragging her in with me.
She seemed lost or bewildered as she pressed the door closed behind herself, her back against the wood of the door. It was as though she was bracing herself, unsure if she could stand up without the solid structure at her back.
When Ivy looked up at me, her eyes glittered. There was something wild and beautiful in them, but also something quivering and fearful. I could feel my gut turn at her obvious cowardice. She had to have known this was coming; she had to have felt that this was the next step. But somehow, Ivy’s beautiful eyes were still darkened with confusion, her body language unsure.
I stood inside of her apartment, silent and grave, watching her as a lion might watch its prey. She still shook, but she was silent and still, her back still pressed against the door. Looking like she wanted to blend into the background, Ivy watched me with cautious, careful eyes.
“The Devil’s Edge didn’t scare you off.” It wasn’t really a question. I’m not really sure what kind of answer I was hoping for, but Ivy said nothing in response. The silence between us filled with tension. It shivered along every nerve inside of my body like guitar strings strung too tight.
“Why are you still here?” I asked, louder.
Ivy opened her mouth, and a squeak came out. She cleared her throat, swallowed hard, and tried again. “To take care of Josh,” she whispered. “For my paycheck.”
I didn’t believe her, not for a second.
Stepping forward, I flew across the room like I had been pulled by a string. My whole body yearned for hers, desiring to press my body along every inch of hers until she cried out my name. I wanted to know when she tasted like, what lie under her baggy, ill-fitting sweater and torn jeans.
Grabbing both of her wrists, I slammed them back into the door above her head, holding her captive. Ivy squirmed a little under my grasp, but there wasn’t any heart in it.
She didn’t want to escape.
Fuck me, she wants this as much as I do. I looked down into her eyes and felt myself drowning, lost in the beautiful spirals of emotions I found inside. The fear I saw sent thrills through every inch of me, but there was also something else. It burned brighter than a fire deep within her eyes. I held her wrists with one hand as my fingers brushed against the skin of her cheek; she felt hot under my touch.
But she didn’t look away. Her eyes kept in contact with mine, alight with what could only be desire.
Fuck.
I collapsed into her, pressing hard against her body. My mouth crashed into her’s, teeth and tongues fighting for control. A small sound like pain slipped out from between her lips, and it only drove me harder.
I pried her knees apart with my knees, driving myself between her legs. We connected, groans, claws, and bites. There was little left in either of us that was human.
Furious lust burned in every inch of my veins, and I couldn’t seem to get enough to her. Seams ripped, grunts and moans of pain mingled with those of lust, and we pulled at each other, trying to rip past each other’s skin.
I could feel her clawing hard at my shoulders, dragging at my clothing, her lips hard and demanding. I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t see around the filter of red over my vision. Every kiss drove me harder into her. She screamed into my mouth, the sound all violence and wild lust. I pulled her away from the door by her torn sweater only to throw her onto the bed.
“Yes, Creed,” she moaned up at me. “What are you waiting for?”
The coils on the mattress groaned in anticipation as I climbed on top of her.
Her lips were swollen, her eyes hard and dark. Hard, angry, red lines bit into her wrists and around her neck where I had held her down.
Fuck, she’s beautiful. I hated myself for even thinking it, but it was true. I’m not here to get caught up in her; just fuck her, then dump her. She’ll be gone before the end of the week. If I repeated it over and over, like a mantra, it would make the leaving part easier. Or at least, that’s what I told myself.
But as I tore the rest of the clothing from her quivering body, I wasn’t so sure anymore.