Returnto Us Trilogy BoxedSe

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PROLOGUE

Three years ago

Ivy

Where the hell am I? I squeeze my eyes closed. Open. Blackness. Pungent dampness wafts into my nostrils and tickles my nose hairs. It’s way too dark in here. Some creepy horror film kind of darkness. I’m waiting for the phone to ring, only for the disturbing voice to ask if I like scary movies. Which I don’t, by the way, if anyone is taking detailed notes. I wave my hands outward with my fingers spread like high-tech sensory equipment, looking for any sign of my whereabouts. My left palm grazes what feels like a stone cold concrete wall. Little bits break off and shatter at my feet. The pebbles bounce off my shoelaces and scrape my weary ankles. Concrete. Definitely old concrete. Close. Open. Nothing. Utter darkness wrapping its malevolent vines of despair around my body. Clutching and strangling my form until all my orifices plead for leniency. I shudder with angst at my disturbingly eerie thoughts. Mustering up some unknown courage, I dance the tip of my shoe out in front of me. I’m probably going to plummet, feet first, down a stone well or something, with a gruesome little dead girl in it. Wonderful, now that image is in my head. If anyone wants to know why I hate

haunted houses, this is it. Jot that down. Close. Inhale. Exhale. Open. Dammit! This would only happen to me. This is how my life has been. I should be used to it by now. I turn and place my back to the cold concrete wall, or what I hope is a wall, since I’m leaning on it… in a gloomy passageway. Okay, I can do this. I inch along, staying flush with the gritty concrete. The pressure in my chest, this resilient throbbing ache, is thwarting my breathing. I try to cough to clear my throat, but it feels like an object is covering my mouth. I can’t inhale. Wait… did I hear a voice? A distorted, authoritative voice. I strain to hear it again, willing my ears to grow two sizes larger for this very moment. Come on, please. Come on… There it is again. It sounds as if someone is trying to speak to me from far away. The voice is masculine, irrefutable, and uncompromising. Cough. Wheeze. I wait a few more seconds and pray to hear his voice again. Silence. My worst fear has found me. I’m alone… again. Terrified. Abandoned. Lost. I brush a tear away from my left cheek. I need to get it together for god’s sake. I’ve been in much worse situations than this before. I wish I could hear his unassailable and definitive tone once more and feel that brief moment of deliverance from this nightmare again. His voice protected and shielded me from my terror. I wrap my arms around my midsection, fold myself inward, and slide down the cold concrete wall. Now I’m really getting alarmed. Please someone help me… Anyone… Close. Open. Darkness.

I jump when I hear the clear, daunting voice ricochet off the walls. “Scalpel. Now! Ivy, stay with me. Listen to my voice.” I can’t breathe. It’s like I’ve got a turkey baster shoved down my throat. With every squeeze of the bulb, my drained lungs shrivel to the size of a sun-scorched raisin. The heaviness in my chest is excruciating. Please, I’m afraid. Why won’t anyone help me? I try to shout, but no pleas form. The voice is enraged and manic. “Fight, Ivy. You fucking hear me? You better fucking fight!” Of course I can hear you. You’re yelling at me. Stop shouting! I need to find him. “Goddammit, Ivy. Open your eyes. Open your eyes. Open them!” This man is incensed. I’m not sure I want to find him anymore. However, his gruff voice sets a fire down deep in my belly waking even the most desolate parts of me. I love the way he says my name, too. Maybe I do want to find him and keep him irate at me… all the time. Close. Open. Blinding light. I raise my forearm to block the piercing array of colors. My eyelids flutter to keep up with the potent light roasting my irises. I’m no longer in the murky passageway. My prayers have been heard. I blink through blurred vision as I attempt to figure out where I am. The blinding light looks to be a surgical lamp hanging above me. I strain to see. Captivating, deep-set eyes fill my vision and stare back at me. Bright eyes, the purest turquoiseblue of the Caribbean Sea. They could burn a hole

straight through your soul and singe the drywall behind you. I can’t stop gazing into these ethereal aquamarine eyes framed with thick, charcoal lashes. A surgical cap and mask cover the rest of this striking face before me. I desperately want to reach up and pull on the mask, but I’m too frail. My entire body feels like a limp noodle about to blow away with a gust of wind. From behind the mask, a profound voice says, “Welcome back, Ivy.” The voice from the passageway… that imperious voice. He found me.

CHAPTER 1

Present day

Ivy

I’m not sure if I’m ready to go return to work today. I have to remind myself I’m doing this for Uncle Bernie and Aunt Helen. I’d do anything for them, since they’ve done everything for me. Uncle Bernie is one of the most respected plastic surgeons in the Midwest, and from the tone in his voice, I knew he was in over his head. He needs to focus on his patients, not worry about bills and payroll. I run my fingers through my unruly shoulder-length hair, struggling to untangle the ends. Using them like mock scissors, I try to tug apart each dark-brown, knotted strand. I wonder if my mother had the same issue with her unmanageable locks? I bet some kids hate growing up hearing constant comments about how they look like so and so. Not foster kids like me. We would love someone to taunt us for our familial resemblance. Did I get my wavy, chestnut hair and my moss green eyes from my mother or my father? Who gave me this somewhat crooked nose? The questions have haunted me since childhood. Since it’s September and chilly, even for Chicago, I opt for a business casual chic outfit today. I’m wearing a lightgray cashmere tunic sweater draping off my left shoulder, paired with black, feather-soft knit leggings. I rummage through my jewelry box and find my pear-shaped

diamond earrings to match the necklace dangling in the hollow of my throat. My killer shoes help reduce my anxiety about returning to work. These black Jimmy Choo suede booties have a 4.5inch stacked heel with 0.5-inch platform base. I could never have afforded them at retail price, but I may or may not have ripped them from another woman’s fingers during a bargain-shopping trip to New York City and got a great deal. I turn off my flat iron and make my way to the front door. I’m leaving my sanctuary. I’ll admit I never intended to be away for three months. One week turned into two, turned into months of trying to shake off the pain of my break-up with Kevin. All the signs were there with Kevin. I chose to ignore them. He was lazy, selfish, and a shit lover, but he did make me laugh. In the end, he was laughing at me more than with me. Like the time he flung ice cream at me because I was wearing a Chicago Cubs T-shirt and he was a White Sox fan. Boring jackass White Sox lover. No more skulking. This is back-in-the-saddle Monday. Uncle Bernie needs me. Time to pony-up, Summers. I grab my black motorcycle jacket and studded leather bag, lock my door behind me, and stride out into the crisp fall air. I love fall, especially in Chicago. The green to orangeish purple leaves sway in the early morning wind to some type of secret fall melody. I dig in my bag for my earbuds and attach them to my phone. I glimpse at the time on my phone and pick up the pace. I don’t want to disappoint Uncle Bernie and Aunt Helen by being late.

CHAPTER 2

Ivy

I push through the revolving glass doors and enter the impressive high-rise Jackson Building. Sleek steel fixtures combined with white accent furniture really do tell a person the rent is high. Uncle Bernie knew his clientele would need the assurance of money and power, and as far as I was concerned, this lobby did just that. I scan my badge with security and head in the direction of the multiple, chrome-plated elevators. When the elevator arrives, I use proper etiquette and shuffle to the back. I maneuver my way as close to the rear of the elevator as I can, trying not to disturb the row of people already there. I swivel around toward the front and watch the last few people bobble in like eager sardines. The elevator doors shut and the up arrow turns green as a ping penetrates the awkward silence of our enclosure. I feel a moment of weightlessness as the floor lurches upward. A smile creeps across my face as “Motivation” by Kelly Rowland shuffles over. Thank god no one can hear my music, because it’s a dirty little song and I love every minute of it. I look down at my phone to check the time. Jeez, this elevator. Come on, come on… I should’ve taken the stairs for some exercise. But instead, I’m stuck in the rear of this slow moving elevator. I look down between my feet and notice a sleek pair of men’s black Italian leather shoes behind me. Wow. Those

are some nice shoes. Maybe a size thirteen? Size fourteen? My mouth waters as I remember what they say about men with big feet. You need to get laid, Summers. The stranger’s presence oozes affluence, power, and arrogance, just from wearing those thick-stitched leather shoes. Get it together, Summers. You’ve only seen his shoes. You’re totally losing it. Maybe I should turn around? But once I see him, I may turn into a giant puddle of horny goo. For all I know, he could look like a hobbit or an ogre or some other disturbing imaginary creature from a land far, far away. As I muster up the guts to turn around, the doors slide open and more passengers enter the elevator. I can’t believe how many people are trying to jam into this elevator to avoid a little exercise. I guess I did too, but that’s not the point. I’m feeling claustrophobic. I wish I could yell, Get off this elevator and take the dang stairs, people! Since I can’t, because it’d be rude, I close my eyes and picture a beach with loud crashing waves. I breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth. A little better. And again. Okay, much better. I open my eyes as the last couple of people turn to their sides and scuffle their way onto the elevator. The ripple effect forces me backward, pushing my bottom into the Italian-shoed stranger. This is a great first day, Summers. You’re gonna be late, have a panic attack, and rub yourself up against a stranger with gorgeous shoes. Perfect. There should be laws preventing me from leaving my apartment on certain days. I hear a weird creaking noise and the lights flicker. I’m

jostled about before the elevator jerks to a halt in midflight and the lights go out. My fellow elevator patrons gasp and grumble. Random lights appear as people pull out their cellphones. In the commotion of the crowded elevator, I’m heaved against my Italian-shoed stranger even more. I feel strong hands wrap around my hips. I’m so close I can feel his chest rising and falling on my back. I can’t fucking breathe. I can’t fucking breathe. His breath is steady and calm on my neck, almost as if he’s enjoying watching me struggle for my self-control. The cat pinning the mouse down by the tail as the mouse struggles to get away. Should I pull away from him? The Slut Ivy on my right shoulder rolls her eyes and says, Duh, no silly. Stay where you are. The Feminist Ivy on my left shoulder is scowling at me. Just get your ass to work on time, woman. The truth is I couldn’t move an inch even if I wanted to. Which I don’t. Time seems to have stopped. All I know is he’s holding me to the heat of his massive male frame. I can’t stop the images of this stranger’s tongue casually licking its way down my entire body. I haven’t even seen this man. But I am a shoe whore, and his shoes were fabulous. I feel an uncontrollable electrical pull toward him. Synapses are firing between our bodies creating sparks that would light up even the darkest of nights. He intensifies his hold on my left hipbone, his fingers digging in, while his other hand drifts up my spine to my right ear. He softly pulls on the cord to my earbud, and all I can concentrate on is his warm, ragged breath on my neck.

He leans in close to my ear, and I hear a sucking sound. What the hell? I feel a warm sensation as he trails the tip of his wet finger from my shoulder up to my right earlobe. Holy shit. My breath catches, and a low chuckle vibrates against my skin. Prick. I smile to myself for mentally insulting him. He flexes his fingers and glides his large palm across my cashmere-covered abdomen and presses lightly on my belly. He’s trying to help me slow my breathing. Bringing me to the present… with him. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. He pushes on my abdomen and forces my backside right onto his rock hard erection. I could totally write my obituary after this experience. Dead from feeling Italianshoed stranger’s erection against my ass. What a great way to go. His breathing speeds up below my right earlobe, matching mine. Is he as affected by our contact as I am? He reaches for my right wrist and pins it behind me on my lower back. Great, now I can feel his rippling hard abs along with his swelling erection. His grip is arduous, strong, and unforgiving. But damn, does it feel good. Like home… with apple pie baking in the oven. The elevator jolts as if we’re all on a roller coaster ride. His hold deepens around me, bringing me relief and comfort. I must be insane to think he’s bringing me relief and comfort. I’m in this pitch-black elevator, stuck on god knows what floor, and I’m having an erogenous affair with a stranger. Yet, somehow, my soul knows I’m safe in his arms. It’s nothing like I ever felt with Kevin or any of the others before him. The lights flicker again, but remain off, leaving me to wonder if I’m in a dream. A sweet dream I

hope I never wake from. Induce this coma, please. He uses his foot to part my feet and pushes one leg between mine. His sturdy thigh nudges against my bottom. He gathers my hair and moves it to my right side, baring the left side of my neck and my left shoulder. Thank you, cashmere tunic. He runs a fingertip from my ear, over my clavicle, to my upper arm, and I’m done for. This is how I’m going to die. Yep, this is it. Put me out of my misery. A ping fills the dark space and the emergency lights flicker on. The elevator lurches upward and the passengers sigh in relief. We come to a stop again, and the doors open to a landing full of building security. I have no idea what floor I’m on or what the hell my name is. All I know is this stranger still has me powerfully imprisoned up against him. He lets go of my hair, and I hear a sharp intake of air next to my right earlobe. He hisses, “I love that fucking song,” and pops my right earbud back in. The strong hold around my abdomen vanishes.

CHAPTER 3

Ivy

I tumble to my left and place my sweaty palms on the elevator wall to steady myself. My eyelashes flutter as I try to get a grasp of my surroundings. Right, I’m still in the elevator. I notice my fellow passengers exiting in a mad rush. I whip around and realize I’m completely alone in the corner of the elevator. I’m losing it, hardcore. No one is here, except me. “Miss? We’ve been instructed to evacuate all passengers from this elevator. Miss, are you all right?” I can barely hear the security guards, until I realize my music is still playing. I make my way toward them while they hold open the doors for me. I smile and nod in appreciation. Before I exit, I glance over my left shoulder and look for any sign of my passionate stranger. All I see is the chrome wall. I’m the last one to exit the elevator. In a daze, I follow my fellow recently released passengers to the stairs. Did I just imagine every flippin’ minute? No way. No way in hell. But why would he hide himself from me in the crowd? I know I felt his rippling abs… his masculine hands… his stiff cock. Didn’t I? Wow, I really am losing it. Mental note to self: Get laid. Soon. Very soon. As I reach the door to the landing of the higher level, a realization hits me like a ton of bricks. He must have put the earbud he took out of my ear into his. This means he was listening to either “Motivation” by Kelly Rowland or “S&M” by Rihanna. Wonderful.

I reach the eleventh floor and pull open the door while trying to catch my breath. I lean my head on the blue wallpaper in the hall leading to Uncle Bernie’s practice. I wonder if I’m winded from climbing up six flights of stairs in heels, or if it’s the vivid memories I now have of my Italian-shoed stranger’s hands all over me. I close my eyes and focus on steadying my breathing. Too bad he isn’t here to help me again. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. “Ivy, sweetheart, is that you?” I peek up and can’t help the smile that spreads across my face. Aunt Helen. “Yes.” Gasp. “Trying… to catch my breath.” In more ways than one. Aunt Helen is poking her head around the door, studying me intently. Her champagne blonde hair is pulled into her signature chignon, and her kind green eyes look worried. I wish I didn’t cause her to worry so much. “Okay, sweetie. I’m glad you’re okay. Security called to let us know elevator A will be shut down for the rest of the day.” She flashes her beautiful smile at me and disappears inside the office. Aunt Helen is an attractive sixty-year-old woman and has been a registered nurse for over thirty years. For her age and petite frame, she has a body that won’t quit. She keeps her muscles trim and toned with pilates and yoga classes. I head toward the office door and realize I don’t have my bag. I turn around and see it lying on the floor by the stair entrance. See what he did? I almost lost my favorite bag. Damn him. I collect my bag and pull on the handle of the frosted glass office do— Frosted glass? I’d forgotten Uncle Bernie likes to update every three years to stay trendy for

his high-paying clientele. In sleek black lettering, the writing on the door reads:

I’m so proud of him. Who would have thought four years ago he was diagnosed with prostate cancer and told he had six months to live? He’s doing great. So take that, cancer, and shove it up your ass! I walk into the waiting room and stop dead in my tracks. Even the waiting room has been redone with new darkcherrywood floors, sleek chrome chairs covered in teal fabric, two fifty-five-inch flat screen TVs mounted on either wall, tall tropical plants in the corners and… he used my idea. A fish tank right below the check-in window. From the floor to the counter, vibrant tropical fish and underwater plants are all you can see. I look up and see Aunt Helen watching me through the check-in window. She slides the glass separator open and props her forearms on the counter in front of her. “Your uncle wanted to be here when you first saw this, but couldn’t. He made me promise to memorize your face so I could tell him.” She has a shit-eating grin on her face. “Aunt Helen, this is”—I choke on my words —“unbelievable.” “I know, sweetie.” She looks as if she’s going to cry. “He did this all for you, Ivy. We wanted you here with us.” She steps back and slides the glass separator closed again. Looking in her direction, I walk through the door and into

the employee office area. “Aunt Helen, what did you mean when you said he did this all for me?” I’m desperately trying to hold in all my tears. “You don’t remember, do you? Over the past twelve years, your uncle has listened to every single suggestion you’ve given him regarding the business. He figured it was time to complete the entire package.” She walks over and pulls me into a warm hug. “We missed you, honey.” Her eyes are watering over. Please don’t cry, Aunt Helen, ‘cause I’ll be crying next. “I can’t believe—” She stops me mid-sentence and places both her hands on my shoulders. “Believe it, Ivy. We’re your family. We love you.” I’m pretty sure I see a tear slip down her left cheek, but she wipes it away. I have tears welling and threatening to turn into rapid waterworks. “Okay, we can’t be crying on your first day back. How about I go grab us some coffee, and we can sit down and talk more about the changes your uncle has made?” “Sounds wonderful.” I smile and drop my purse onto the check-in desk. “Okay, good. Our first appointment isn’t until one this afternoon, so I’m going to take my time and run some errands.” She picks up her purse and heads for the waiting room. As she’s about to leave, she turns around and motions for me to open the glass separator. I do as instructed and arch my eyebrows in question. “Oh, and Ivy? Don’t think for one second you fooled your uncle and me today by not driving the car we bought you four months ago. If you had, you could’ve taken the private elevator from the garage and not killed yourself on the stairs. Tootles!” With that, she’s out the door as fast

as a jackrabbit. Busted. I lower my head and close my eyes. Darn, she caught me. I hate depending on others financially. So when Uncle Bernie and Aunt Helen surprised me with a new car, I was taken aback. Don’t get me wrong, I was very grateful for my brand new SUV, but I’m not used to depending on anyone else but me.

CHAPTER 4

Ivy

I pick up my purse, slide it over my shoulder, and take the few steps to my office. The door is locked. Weird, I’ve never had a lock on my door before. Which means I have no key to unlock it either. I stand in silence, debating what to do next. I think about calling Aunt Helen, but I know she forgets to turn her cell phone on. I walk across the hall and peek into Uncle Bernie’s office. If anyone had a key to my office, it’d be him. I flip the light on and riffle around his desk. Luckily, I find a shiny, new-looking key in his bottom desk drawer. Actually, it was pretty well hidden. I just know where to look. Grabbing the key, I turn off the light and cross over to my office door. I insert the key, turn it, and the door swings wide open. Straight ahead of me are picturesque floor-toceiling windows facing Lake Michigan. Why are the sheer purple curtains closed? Who shut the world out? It’s such a radiant view from in here. To the left I see my trendy yet comfortable couch woven with fabric soft as silk. My desk is strategically placed so I can sit with my back to the wall and still have a great view of the water. Two sleek, chrome chairs sit in front of my desk for visitors. I close the door and lock it behind me. I need a minute to take in everything that’s transpired this morning. I flop down on the couch and rest my head back. I glance at my phone for the time.

Sigh. I mutter, “Great, it’s only 8:30 am.” Maybe I should work? Nah, not yet. My thoughts drift to the elevator. His tight, possessive grip on my hipbones… His warm and solid palm splayed across my abdomen… His rigid erection pushing on my butt… In seconds, I feel a warming sensation between my thighs. I clamp them tightly together to try and ease the pressure, which I know won’t help. Without thinking, I leisurely run my hand down my cashmere sweater, push underneath it, and find the elastic band on my leggings. I gradually slip my hand below them and under my lacy red boy shorts. My finger brushes over my engorged clit and I gasp. A surge of desire flies through my entire body. This is what he can do to me. Whoever he may be. I know I have to get myself off, or I’ll be wound up all day thinking about him. Damn him. My brain begins justifying my masturbation idea. The door is locked and no one is in the office. I locked it, right? I stand, test the door, and verify it’s locked. I walk over to the full-length mirror mounted next to my desk. I stare at myself for a moment, then carefully lift my sweater over my head. It’s been almost four years since I lost sixty pounds, but somehow I can still see the fat girl trying to rip her way out of my skin. Looking at my size twelve figure, I run my palm over the stretch marks staking their claim around my midsection. I tilt my head to inspect my plastic surgery scars. Sighing, I remember the day I begged Uncle Bernie to make me attractive on the outside, like he does for

everyone else. He flat-out refused and said I already was pretty on the outside and needed to realize it. I debated with him, but it was no use. My weight loss had left behind a lot of extra skin, and I wanted to be rid of its memory. For good. Sadly, I felt my only other option was to find another plastic surgeon. I turn to my left and raise my arm. I stare at the pink scar between my ribs. It’s about two inches long and is a little raised off my skin. I skim my finger across it and shudder. It’ll forever be my reminder that a chest tube was inserted into my lung to save my life. I’ll never be able to run from it. Okay, Summers. Time to stop thinking about it. You have something more fun to do. I walk to the side of my shiny mahogany desk facing my stunning view of the lake. I lift my butt up and onto the side of my desk. I lie backward, stretched out lengthwise, moving office supplies out of the way as needed. With everything below my knees dangling off the edge, I close my eyes and I’m in the elevator. I spread my legs and slide my right index and middle finger between my legs. With my other hand, I lower my bra and spring my breasts free. I begin a soft clockwise motion on my clit while grinding my hips in rhythm. My fingers grab my left nipple, twist, and pull. “Argh!” It hurts, but feels so good. I return to my elevator stranger… and what he could’ve done to me if he continued his wonderful assault on my body. His hot and steamy breath coating my neck… His body pressed up behind mine against the elevator wall… His strong hands pinning my wrists above my head… “Mmm,” I mutter and wet my lips with my tongue. I push

two fingers inside myself. “Ahh!” I buck off the desk and twist my nipple even harder. I’m almost there. Sliding his hand between my thighs, cupping my pussy from the front… slipping two fingers inside of me while his thumb massages my clit… “Yeah…” I bite my bottom lip and swing my head to the left. I keep thrusting my hips in rhythm with my fingers. He whispers praise in my ear. That’s right, baby, only I make you come. He slips three fingers into me and finger fucks me hard. You like that? Of course you do. I know what my baby’s pussy wants. He growls and runs his tongue up the side of my neck. Fuck, you’re dripping wet for my dick. I feel my orgasm building and finally the eruption of pure pleasure. I continue to stroke my sensitive clit as my body shakes. I let out a huge breath and collapse on the desk. I think if I ever have a real-life chance with my elevator stranger, I could die one very happy woman. *** Jacade

Ding. Ding. “Dude, what the hell? I thought you turned your phone off?” Derek, the personal trainer fill-in, is pissing me off. Who does he think he is speaking to me like that? Ding. Ding. I lower my black-taped hands and scowl at Derek. I’m more than unhappy Clyde is on vacation. Hell, I pay him decent money to be at my beck and call. This fill-in is a total moron. I have a feeling this isn’t going to go well for

him. At. All. Derek sighs and shrugs in my direction. “Go answer it.” He’s lucky I’m not dropping his ass to the mat for that comment. Derek points in frustration toward my bag on the workout bench. “Well?” I cross my arms over my chest and glare down at Derek. No one speaks to me like that and lives another day. Ever. My voice is a deep, low growl. “Let me remind you, I’m the one paying you $450 an hour. We’re not friends or bros or whatever. I’m your client. Don’t ever speak to me like that again or you’ll lose your tongue. Understand?” Derek looks shell-shocked, but still manages to nod. I chuckle to myself. Fuck this loser. “Good. I’m glad we understand each other. Go grab me a bottle of water. Now!” Derek spins and makes quick for the water machine. Good dog. I can’t wait for Clyde to return. This guy is a douchebag. I grab a towel on my way to my bag. Sweat is dripping everywhere. It feels so good to punish my muscles. I search for my phone and see a breach notification. Someone or something has tripped my hidden security camera in my office. The cleaning crew has tripped it before at night, but it’s never gone off in the morning. Fear zings through my body. My office hides some serious secrets that need to stay buried. Forever. I unlock my screen and click on the notification. It brings me to a live webcam of my office. “Holy shit!” A gorgeous woman fingering herself on my desk. Totally spread eagle and going at it like the world is about to end. My dick swells and I have to reach down and adjust it. I

sway and take a seat on the workout bench. I can’t stop watching her. But really what man could? I want to see her face. Even though I have a suspicion who it is. I can’t see her face no matter how far I zoom in. Lord knows I try. Numerous times… and then some. “Here’s your water, sir.” Derek shoves a bottle of water in my face. His voice is low and shaky. I love when I scare the hell out of people. “Get the fuck out!” I grab the water bottle and continue to stare at my phone. “Yes, sir.” Derek runs away. I chuckle since Derek is probably shitting a brick now. Maybe the cut your tongue out comment was too much? Nah. I should’ve played with his fear a little more, for my entertainment. However, I have more important things happening… in real time… minute by minute. I jump up, gather my stuff, and sprint to the private elevator. As I ride up to the eleventh floor, I contemplate how to handle this. I don’t have to talk to women. What do you say to an attractive woman you’ve caught beating off on your desk? As I’m lost in my own thoughts, I realize I’ve missed the best part, her coming. I wanted to watch her come, her back arch, her breasts heave, nipples bead… She’s off my desk and getting dressed. Shit, I’m going to miss catching her in the act and offering my fingers, mouth, and cock as help. What can I say? I’m just a generous kind of guy. *** Ivy

That was one of the better decisions I’ve ever made. I would’ve been all hot and bothered for the rest of the

day. I sit up and hop down off my desk. As I straighten my clothes and reach for my sweater on the couch, I see a tall, dark figure standing in the doorway of my office. His arms are crossed on his chest, barricading the door like a bodyguard. His huge body takes up most of the doorframe, and the light from the hallway shines all around him like a halo. I can’t make out any of his features, except for his outline. “What the hell! What are you doing in here?” I pull my sweater up to my chest and wrap it around my body. I hear him chuckle, which instantly pisses me off. Who does he think he is? This is my dang office! “Umm, hello?” I throw my hand up in the air as if to hurry this confrontation along. He remains silent. Watching me like a predator stalking his prey before a meal. His gaze drifts from my eyes, down my throat to my cleavage, over my sweater, and lingers between my thighs. I have to get out of here. I have no idea who the hell this man is, and I’m completely alone in the office at the moment. I pull my sweater over my head and move toward the door. He sidesteps and blocks me in my office. Okay, I’m officially agitated. In a low voice, but with some don’t mess with me laced in it, I say, “Excuse me, please. I think you’ve seen enough.” I glare at him and cross my arms over my chest to mimic him. Then I fully see this man. I mean fully see him. Holy fuck me running. He’s climb over your girlfriend’s dead bodies if they ever tried to sleep with him before you did gorgeous. The kind of man you see across a club in a very expensive suit, sitting with his legs spread wide and his arms draped over the back of a leather couch. You know

tons of glamorous women are begging to go home with him. The kind of man who, as he takes a sip of his very expensive scotch, he chooses to draw in an ice cube and suck on it, because he knows you and every other woman in the club is watching. As his confident smile creeps across his handsome face, you know he knows you want to fuck him. Hard. Once he got you home he would eat you up and spit you out, leaving you hollow inside. Nevertheless, you’d run to him the very next day for one more wild ride. My breath catches in my throat, and I know he notices as his eyes widen. I assess his features, trying to figure out the universe’s plan when they created him. I come to the conclusion that the cosmos threw every woman’s ideal striking, mysterious, and statuesque male specimen into a bag, added a handful of fairy hotness dust, and shook it up violently. Violently being the key word. Pouring out this exquisite specimen of a man all full of magical fairy hotness dust and lust. I’m definitely in trouble. I can’t help but peruse his massive body. He’s wearing a long-sleeved, black workout shirt with black basketball shorts. He’s all muscle, straining at the seams to be freed. He must have been working out, because he smells of man and sweat and musk. Yum. He has to be at least 6′3″ with tanned skin and full lips. His onyx hair is spiked on top and trimmed around his ears and neckline. His sooty five o’ clock shadow masks his strong jaw. But his eyes are the blue of faded jeans. I see specks of teal and an outer ring of indigo. Double yum. He leans in close to me and pauses. I recoil a tad and

see his eyebrows shoot up in disapproval. What was that? A warning? A silent command with only his eyes? I freeze, but I’m not sure why. My mind is telling me to run screaming past this psycho, but my body is reacting to his command. My body isn’t moving. My nipples harden from the look of displeasure on his handsome face. He oozes sensuality, masculinity, and power. Power and control he takes without asking and you willingly give, because he wants it. This man knows he has an effect on women, and he uses it to his advantage. Anytime he pleases. When he speaks, a deep baritone voice licks the insides of my ears. *** Jacade

Dude, she’s pissed. Say something. Anything. My mind keeps trying to get my dick to stop thinking for all of them. Ha! Never going to happen. All I can do is look at her. Damn, she’s a knockout. She’s always been beautiful. I knew it had to be her in here. I can’t believe she’s standing in front of me. Her proximity to me sends a bolt of adrenaline through my veins. I didn’t think seeing her face to face would affect me this much, but it’s been so many years, I’m dumbstruck. She’s standing in front of me saying something. I should really pay attention, but all I can do is look at her nipples poking through her bra and sweater. Yeah, your sweater doesn’t cover up anything, honey. Her hair is tussled like it would be after I grabbed it and shoved her to her knees. Her curves. Those curves will be the death of me. Not to mention those tits. Oh, those are undeniably real and need to be bouncing up and

down as she rides my dick. Hard. Now she’s standing in front of me, clothed. When the hell did she get dressed? Shit, I need to break this pussy trance. I take a step closer and she retreats a little. Hmm, interesting. Let’s see where this goes. Is she scared of me? She should be. I’m a monster. I raise my eyebrows in warning. She doesn’t move. She doesn’t fucking move. She obeys my command with the double I’s, immediately and instinctively. In my brief moment of confusion, my brain makes its move. Time to speak. “First off, sweetheart, you are in my office.” I point to my name on the door. In black script letters it’s clearly written, Jacade J. Jordan, M.D. Bewilderment and shock appear across her angelic face. That’s correct, honey. My. Office. “And secondly, I haven’t seen nearly enough of you yet.” I pause to wait for her reaction.

CHAPTER 5

Ivy

Whoa. What did he just say? He smirks, adding in his low baritone fuck me in the dark so all I can hear is that sexy-ass voice, “But I will.” Damn. Is it hot in here, or is it only me? Anyone? Anyone? I break from his spell when Aunt Helen walks into the hallway. I can’t see her, since Goliath is still standing in the doorway blocking my escape. Get out of my way! “Ivy, dear. I have your coffee.” Aunt Helen’s voice lowers as she says, “Hello, Jacade. I see you two have met.” He turns and smiles at her, but she doesn’t return it. “Good morning, Helen. Yes, we were just getting acquainted.” He turns toward me and flashes an awardwinning smile with one solitary dimple in his cheek. Great, a dimple. It’s beyond adorable and sexy as hell. He pushes it even further when he winks at me. Yep, I’m going to pass out. Jerk! “Ivy, your office is down here. I meant to tell you before I left. I sent you a text.” She points to my hand. When did Aunt Helen not only leave her cell phone on, but text? I look down at my phone and sure enough, she did. However, I was a little preoccupied at the time. She hands me my coffee and continues down the hall. Umm, it would be nice if she gave me a little more information as to who the hell this man is blocking my exit? Finally, he turns sideways and lets me pass. I move fast

to get away from him and flee to the bathroom at the end of the hall. I close and lock the door behind me. I can’t believe this! How much did he see? What if he saw me… No, he couldn’t have. I would’ve noticed, wouldn’t I? He was so arrogant in that short moment that seemed to last for ages. It’s almost as if he was letting me talk, because he felt like it. Gah! I splash cold water on my face to try to settle myself down as I look in the mirror. Who am I more angry with? Him or me? Crap, he’s mesmerizing. A sex god on a stick I could lick every minute of every day. If I was in an ice cream drive-thru, my order for him would go something like this: Umm, yeah, hi. Can I get a Jacade with chocolate syrup, lots of nuts, sprinkles, and tons of whipped cream on top? No cherry needed. Mine’s been gone for a long time anyway. With my coffee in hand, I pull my chin up and head to the check-in desk. I hear Aunt Helen on the phone making an appointment, but Jacade is nowhere in sight. Darn. I forgot my purse in my, uh his, office. As soundlessly as I can, I turn the doorknob to see if the coast is clear. When I don’t see him, I make a mad dash into his office, grab my purse off the couch, and as I turn to leave, it happens. He walks out of his private bathroom and his longsleeved, baby-blue dress shirt is hanging open, showing off his eight-pack. The light-blue color makes his olive skin shine like a beacon in the night. He has a white cotton towel draped around his waist. His rippling abs, tight pecs, lustrous hips, all soaking-ass wet. My eyes can see a V angling down from his hips like an arrow

pointing toward ecstasy. He looks up at me with a mischievous grin. Holy moly. He runs a hand through his wet, black, spiky hair, causing water droplets to spray through the air. I’m finding it difficult not to run around the room with my tongue sticking out trying to catch his droplets like snowflakes. *** Jacade

As I step out of the cold shower that I had to take, Ivy is standing in my office again. She’s frozen in place. “Take a picture if you want. But only on one condition. I get a picture of you just out of the shower too.” She looks like she might pass out. She licks her lips then bites her bottom one, while her gaze travels over my body. Yeah, this body can take you to heaven and then some. I smile and wait patiently for her to unfreeze. I got all the time in the world for you, baby. *** Ivy

I need to move my feet. Stop staring at his body, Summers! As he grins at me, I realize he totally knows what he’s doing to me. Bastard! He’s playing a game with me like a cat with a toy. Guess what, mister? I’m no mouse. I shake my head to bring myself to the present. Before I know it, my hot coffee is hitting the hardwood floor, splashing everywhere. This would happen to me in front

of him. Maybe I am a mouse. “Ouch!” I scream, as the coffee bounces off the floor and hits me on my calf. Working through the pain, I snatch a towel lying on the couch and drop to the floor. I can’t believe I did this. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me. I’m such a klutz.” As I frantically wipe up coffee, I see two strong, bare feet in front of me. God, even his feet are sexy. I’m pretty sure if I look up, I’d have a great view of what’s underneath his towel. Get it together, Summers. Don’t look up. Don’t look up. Don’t look up. Callused fingers run along my jawline and pull my chin up. His authoritative voice glides out of his perfect mouth. “Eyes on me.” Okay, if you insist. Whatever you want. Whatever he wants? What is wrong with me? I’m almost shaking from my desire for this man. I must really need to get laid, because this is twice in one day, and it’s not even lunchtime. He holds out his hands for me and pulls me to my feet. He reaches up and places his hands on either side of my face. *** Jacade

I’m all for a curve ball, but seeing Ivy drop to her knees was some kind of strike to my cock. But I’m gonna roll with it and see what she does. Time for lesson number one, Ivy. Pay attention. I don’t like to repeat myself. I stare into her eyes. She’s so focused on me, I feel like I can control her soul at my whim. I temper my voice and speak gently. “Never kneel in front of a man unless it pleases you to please him.

Understood?” I search her lovely features for acknowledgment while stroking her cheeks with my thumbs, desperately trying not to kiss and suck those sweet, pink lips. She throws me off when she responds with a mocking whisper, “Yes, sir.” What did she say to me? I should bend her over this desk and reward her by ramming my cock into her. I’ll have to ignore her sarcasm and fix it later. I bring myself back from my ramming her on my desk scenario and grin. “Sir, huh? I like the sound of that rolling off those sweet lips of yours.” Her eyes widen at my words while her tongue darts out and licks her lips. As I’m admiring her shocked expression, she turns and bolts out the door. She’ll be back. *** Ivy

I rest my head on the door, still holding onto the knob for support. Lots of support, since my knees seems to have evaporated into thin air. I replay his velvety voice in my head… Sir, huh? I like the sound of that rolling off those sweet lips of yours. “Ivy, are you okay? Your cheeks are flushed.” I open my eyes and see Aunt Helen’s worried, green eyes staring at me. I’m flushed? Darn RNs notice everything. “Are you sick, dear?” She raises the back of her hand to my forehead. “No. I’m okay, Aunt Helen.” I’m not okay. Far from it. Stupid men. Stupid men named Jacade. What kind of

name is Jacade anyway? Besides the hottest, badass, bad-boy name ever. “All right, but if you aren’t feeling well, you can always go —” She stops and tilts her head. The sound of whimsical whistling floats in from the employee office. A smile brightens Aunt Helen’s face. “I think your uncle is finally here.” I turn my head to the left as Uncle Bernie walks through the door. Man, Aunt Helen has got herself a good-looking man. Not that I’m checking out my uncle, but I know a handsome older gentleman when I see one. Uncle Bernie is about 5′11″ and has a lean, muscular body, salt and pepper hair, and heavy-lidded chestnut brown eyes. As a doctor, he has always kept in great shape, but when he was diagnosed with cancer, he became obsessed with it. He now eats strictly vegan and does yoga every morning before work. He must have some high-end clients coming in today, because he’s wearing a tailored, light-gray three-piece suit, a white dress shirt, and a soft-yellow tie. He sets his briefcase on the ground and opens his arms wide. “My two lovely ladies. Give me a hug.” Aunt Helen and I smile and go to him to be wrapped in his embrace. “Ivy, I’m so glad you’re here.” I lean my head back and give him a genuine smile. “I’m happy to be here. I missed you all.” Uncle Bernie returns my grin. He releases me from his hug and wraps both his arms around his wife. “Ahh, and the most exquisite woman in the world, my Helen.” Uncle Bernie leans down and kisses his wife tenderly. The depth of their love continually amazes me. Uncle

Bernie and Aunt Helen have been married for thirty-four years and are still crazy in love. Even though I don’t like to think about it, you know they must have an active sex life. Unlike little ol’ me. Unless you consider my dildos a date. Which I do… many times a week. Aunt Helen pulls away from him and says, “Bern, quit it.” They share a longing look and release their embrace. Uncle Bernie picks up his briefcase and holds out his right elbow, into which I slip my left arm. “So let’s catch up in my office. What do you think of the renovations?” “They’re absolutely spectacular. Stunning.” I smile up at him. This man is my father and always will be. Forever. No matter where my biological prick of a father is. Flying around between dysfunctional foster homes played havoc on my psyche until Uncle Bernie and Aunt Helen found me and took me in. Before we enter his office, he turns his head to Aunt Helen. “Helen, when Jacade gets in, please tell him I want to introduce him to someone.” “He’s in, dear. Got here about twenty minutes ago. He must have been working out downstairs. He and Ivy have already met.” Aunt Helen smiles and Uncle Bernie turns his gaze to me. “Were you going to tell me? Or make me look daft when I introduced you?” “I could never make you look foolish, Uncle Bernie.” The man is a genius. “No, and you never would, my sweet Ivy,” he says while embracing me in a warm hug. “Good morning, Bernard.” Jacade’s voice rumbles from his office door.

I turn to look and I am greeted by his panty-dropping, award-winning smirk. I think I may need a napkin. I may be drooling. Cleanup in Ivy’s aisle one! I can’t tear my eyes away from him. He looks so hot tying his blue and green tie. Or maybe it’s because he’s magnificent. He’s changed into a pair of neatly ironed, navy-blue pants and his dress shirt is taut on his muscles. I may know little about fashion, except for shoes and purses, but I can tell he’s wearing one very expensive outfit. Probably some designer store that gorgeous, rich and powerful men shop at to make women drool. Like I am. He finishes tying his tie—skillfully I might add—and coolly leans on the wall directly across from me. He crosses one leg over the other and folds his arms over his chest. I try to look anywhere but at him, but his stare scorches right through me. Uncle Bernie breaks my sex-god stupor when he welcomes Jacade into our conversation. “Good morning, Jacade. You’re up and at it early.” “Well, Bernard, I had a very eye-opening experience this morning.” I look up and scowl at him with daggers loaded. What the hell? He better not say one word about catching me halfnaked. He stares at me with a playful grin on his face. He’s so darn cute, I can’t help but blush even though I’m mad at him. “Am I missing something?” Uncle Bernie is still holding my arm as he looks between us. “No, I wanted to get in an early workout, and I surprised

Ivy when I walked in.” He winks at me before moving his gaze to Uncle Bernie. Jerk. He’s enjoying this. “Hey, tonight let’s all go out for a nice dinner? Kind of a welcome back celebration,” Uncle Bernie says as he gestures to all of us standing in the hallway. Aunt Helen and I nod in agreement and Jacade follows. Fabulous, now I have to sit through dinner with Mr. Hotness Man over there. “Good. How about the new restaurant on the river? I know the owner and I think I can get us a table for tonight.” Uncle Bernie turns to me. “We can pick you up on our way, but I need to stop at a client’s house before we go to the restaurant. Seven o’clock.” “Okay, no problem.” I smile sweetly at him. I know he worries about me living alone, so I agree without argument. “I can escort her to the restaurant, Bernard.” What? I scowl at Jacade. He isn’t picking me up after what happened earlier. No way in hell! Pigs must be flying over Lake Michigan if he thinks he’s picking me up for dinner. I put on my best fake smile. “Thank you, but that won’t be necessary.” Uncle Bernie looks between both of us. “Actually, Ivy, he’s closer to your apartment and would save me from having to fight traffic.” Crap. Defeated. Fine, you win. I nod. Glancing at his watch, Uncle Bernie stammers, “Uh… Jacade, we have a meeting this morning. We need to leave. Traffic was a mess driving here.” He releases my

arm, kisses my cheek, and gives Aunt Helen a goodbye hug. Jacade and I standing across from each other in the hallway. God! If Jacade looks at me any longer with his burning gaze, I’ll self-combust and start the Great Chicago Fire… The Sequel. *** Jacade

I’ve been staring at Ivy from across the hall, watching her body respond to my voice. Every time I spoke, her thighs squeezed, making me want to lick her from head to toe. Mmm… like a buffet. It’s time to play with my food before I eat it. I push myself off the wall and drift toward her. She lowers her eyes, but raises them quickly. Yeah, keep those eyes on me. As I close in on her, I see her nipples bead and her breathing pick up. Fuck, she’s sexy. I keep my right hand in my pants pocket and place my left hand above her head on the wall. She smells good. Like pears and sweet lilac. Her pussy has to taste like licorice dripping in wildflower honey. I lean into her right ear. She closes her eyes as I breathe on her skin. Her breasts rise and yep, there go her thighs again… clenching like an anaconda. Damn, Ivy. Stop pushing my self-control. “Be ready by seven. Don’t make me wait.” Nothing. No response. Her breasts are heaving high into the rafters, which is certainly a response. But I want a fucking acknowledgment, princess.

In a low tone, I give her a command. “Nod if you understand me.” She nods, but no words. Okay, I’ll let that one go, but she’ll be giving me words next time. Fuck, she’s stunning. I want so badly to run my fingers between her thighs so I can hear her gasp for air. Feel my fingers being pulled into her tight cunt. Fuck me. “Good girl,” I whisper into her ear. Time to make her even hungrier for me. I run my tongue along the outer edge of her delicate earlobe. “You taste like pure sin. I wonder what your sweet little pussy is gonna taste like. My mouth is watering just thinking about it.” She takes in a deep breath and holds it. She’s probably deciding if I’m an asshole, or if she wants me to fuck her right here. Come on, baby, feminism is overrated. My dick inside your tight, wet pussy isn’t. Before I leave, I decide her good behavior deserves some type of reward. I nuzzle my nose in the curve of her neck and take a deep breath of her scent. I linger around her earlobe and sneak another lick. “And by the way…” I pause to let her catch up, since I’m not sure she’s actually still breathing. I love doing this to women. I’m such a dick sometimes. “I should’ve slid my dick inside you and fucked you in the elevator this morning.” I turn and leave for my meeting. *** Ivy

No. No. Inhale. Exhale.

It was him? My god, oh my god. I bend over and place my sticky palms on my weak knees. My body is struggling to keep up with my mercurial emotional state. My vision is blurry, and the hallway is spinning like the discombobulating vortex tunnel at the end of a carnival fun house. The hallway needs to stop spinning, please. I can vaguely hear Aunt Helen on the phone speaking with a patient, but I can’t make out any part of her conversation. Please don’t let her turn around and see me like this. There is no sane way to explain this to her. She’d never understand. I place one of my hands on my stomach, trying to calm my insides. But every time I think about him and his hands on me… This isn’t happening. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. My mind drifts to the times when I watched all those how to survive reality TV shows. The first thing they say to do is to try to control your anxiety. This way you can focus on getting yourself out of whatever stressful situation you’re in. Like for instance, if I was buried in an avalanche, I’d use my spit and gravity to determine which direction to dig. Or, if I was scuba diving and began to experience vertigo, they say to follow the direction of your bubbles to reach the surface for air. No wad of spit or mass of bubbles will help me. Thanks for all the tips, jerks. I pry my left eyelid open. Still blurry. I’m drowning in the Sea of Jacade and sinking into his dark, dark abyss. Jackass. Dammit, I can’t believe it was him.

We work together. There is no way anything sexual can happen between us. Slut Ivy appears and says, Well, maybe it could happen just once.

CHAPTER 6

Ivy

I step into my apartment and lock the door behind me. A girl can’t be too careful living alone. I can still hear Uncle Bernie’s rapid-fire questions when I first moved in here. Him: What do you do the second you get inside your apartment? Me: Lock the door. Him: And? Me: Deadbolt and chain it. Him: Good. What if someone knocks and you don’t know who it is? Me: Don’t answer it. Him: What if they need help? Me: Don’t answer it and call the police. Him: Good. I hang up my jacket and purse on the brass hooks by my front door. I walk over to my favorite chair and sink in. This chair was my home for the past three months. It sheltered, hugged, and listened to me ask idiotic questions about my life, out loud to no one in particular. I could’ve called some of my friends and asked them those same questions, but I would’ve had to deal with their honest answers. Who wants to hear those when they are depressed? Umm, no one. I do wish I could talk to my best friend. Bryn is traveling with her husband to different parts of the world. I’m not

going to bother her with yet another mess in my life I’ve willingly created. She’s certainly going to beat the living shit out of me when she finds out I’ve kept all this from her. The softness of my chair feels marvelous on my neck. I can’t believe how insane my first day was. Not only did I have a great morning orgasm, I find out my secret stranger was Jacade. I can’t even process what kind of orgasm he could give me with his tongue, fingers… holy cow. I figure I might as well get ready for dinner, which I’m sure will be a wonderfully humiliating experience. I decide a bubble bath is in order. I submerge myself in the hot, sudsy water and try not to think about Jacade. Hmm… I wonder if he’s done the attack from the back with other women in other elevators? Why me? Why not the woman next to me? I’m not sure I want those answers. Before I turn into a prune, I wrap a towel around my body and contemplate my wardrobe for the night. I decide it’s time for my inner seductress to come out of hiding. I can do this. Let’s make Jacade want me to the point of passing out and not the other way around. He wants to play? Two can play this game. I put on a Merlot-colored, backless cocktail dress. The cowl neckline and slinky drape are low enough to reveal more than a hint of cleavage. I add sheer black hose, garter belt, and matching black lace thong and balconette push-up bra. This bra from Victoria’s Secret lifts my boobs to ideal roundness, and it’s low enough it won’t show with this dress. It’s uncomfortable as hell, but this is Operation Make Jacade Drool. Anything goes. I

finish the ensemble with black suede platform pumps with four-inch heels. Perfect. I check the results of my efforts with a twirl in the mirror. Looking pretty good, Summers. So there! Eat your heart out, Dr. Jacade J. Jordan. That’ll teach ya to pull an elevator attack from the back on this mouse. A rat-a-tat-tat on my door interrupts my insane ramblings. I glance at the clock. Seven o’clock. Okay, here goes nothing. *** Ivy

Standing behind my door, I hear Uncle Bernie’s voice in my ear. Ivy, always look through the peephole before you open your door. You never know who is behind it. So I do exactly what I was told. See, I listen, Uncle Bernie… sometimes. To my dismay, I see a staunch gentleman dressed in a black suit with a charcoal-gray tie standing on my doorstep. “Ms. Summers?” His voice is formal but friendly. How the heck does he know my name? He stares directly at me through the peephole, and it makes me a little nervous. I have no idea who this man is, and he knows precisely who I am. “Depends on who wants to know…” I try to lace a sarcastic undertone in my voice. I don’t want to piss him off. Who knows what he’s capable of? Plus, if he thinks for one second I’m opening this door without proper identification, he’s sorely mistaken. I’ve seen my fair share of single and alone female movies… and it always ends with the viewer saying, Why the hell did she open

the door? “My apologies, Ms. Summers. My name is Shane McCormick. I’m Dr. Jordan’s driver.” He holds up his Illinois driver’s license to the peephole for me to see. I guess he’s who he says he is. I open the door to my new acquaintance. The peephole didn’t do this man justice. He’s pretty handsome in his own I’m silent but deadly kind of way. He’s about six feet tall, muscular build, with a buzz cut of sandy blond hair and gentle, golden-brown eyes. Too bad Bryn is married. She’d be all over his junk. I hold out my hand to shake his. “Nice to meet you, Shane.” He doesn’t take my hand, but instead tips his head to me. “Nice to meet you, as well, Ms. Summers.” I pull on my dress coat. “Please, call me Ivy.” “I’d prefer to call you Ms. Summers.” Oops. Maybe he’s not allowed to call me by my first name or something. As I turn around, I notice Shane’s eyes are twitchy and darting around. I scan the room. Am I missing something? He stands by my side, but slightly in front of me, almost as if he’s blocking my body. I decide to let it go and focus on the kick-ass, shiny black Escalade parked at the curb. Jacade’s got taste, that’s for sure. I squint my eyes, but the dark tinted windows don’t allow me to see if he’s inside or not. I’d hope he would’ve come to the door and picked me up if he was. Shane must have seen me staring intently into the SUV because he takes pity on me. “Dr. Jordan asked me to

drive you to the restaurant this evening. He sends his apologies he’s unable to be here himself.” My question answered, Shane and I round the bumper of the SUV, and he opens the back driver’s-side door for me. I lift myself onto the seat, while sliding my butt across the heated leather seats. Wow, these feel nice! Toasty buns. As the warmth creeps across my bottom, I notice a tall, thin, leggy blonde sitting to my right. Umm, who the hell is this? “Hi! I’m Amber.” Insert giggle here. She has the most annoying little high school cheerleaderish voice I’ve ever heard. I’m waiting for her to raise her hands in the air while wiggling her fingers yelling, Spirit fingers! I try to remain calm because really, Jacade isn’t mine, and for all I know this could be his sister. Deep down I know this isn’t his sister, but it could be. Maybe. But probably not. A hard lump forms in my throat as I take a good look at her. She has to be at least 5′10″, probably almost 6′1″ with those hooker heels on. Plus, the most attractive, long, flowing, blonde hair ever. Did I mention that part? The kind I say I wouldn’t want but secretly wish I could pull off someday. She’s wearing a skintight, red leather dress clinging to her 110-pound body. Eat a frickin’ cheeseburger. With lots of mayonnaise and fries… and a milkshake! As Shane climbs into the driver seat, I politely smile at her. “I’m Ivy.” “Hi, Ivy.” She giggles and stretches out her hand. “I’m one of Jacade’s girls.” And there it is. My stomach sinks to the floor along with my heart, and my soul brings up the rear. I raise a shaking hand to my chest, feeling the full weight of her

words. Oh hell naw! One of Jacade’s girls? What the fuck? Wait. Are there more of you out there stalking us average and intelligent women? Waiting to steal the hot men wanting to sleep with us? Is it a cult? I need more details so I can spread the word. I look up and catch Shane’s eyes in the rearview mirror, almost as if he’s gauging my reaction. Okay, Summers. You don’t own him. He’s a player, obviously. I respond with the only thing I can think of. “I’m sorry, I’ve been on a leave of absence and met Dr. Jordan today.” I smile and turn to look at the superb Chicago fall scenery passing by. Please don’t talk to me, you Jacade-fucking blonde bimbo. Don’t. Fucking. Talk. To. Me. “Gotcha.” Insert another annoying giggle here. “He’s really hot, isn’t he?” She lets out yet another girlish giggle, and I can’t help but whip my head around to glare at her. How many Ambers does it take to screw in a light bulb? Three: one to hold the light bulb, one to spin the ladder around, and the other to giggle! I size her up again. She has to be only like twenty-two years old. I decide the only thing I can do here is smile. Of course he’s hot, and it makes me sick to think about her getting to sleep with him. Repeatedly. I’m going to be physically ill. I’m distracted by Shane’s ringing cell phone. He hits the button on his Bluetooth in his left ear. He’s giving whoever the other person is multiple Yes answers. This conversation is boring to eavesdrop on. I silently pray we are close to the restaurant because I’m not sure how much longer I can sit next to this bimbo.

CHAPTER 7

Jacade

I’m holding my phone so tight it’s creating an imprint in my skin. I can’t wait any longer for Ivy’s arrival at the restaurant. I’m impatient as hell. So I dial Shane. He answers on the first ring. “McCormick.” “You got her?” I ask, trying not to sound too eager, even though Shane knows me pretty well. He answers with his usual down-to-business response. “Yes.” I smile to myself because Shane’s answers have always been plain, simple, and to the point… which I love. I don’t need details, answer my questions and be done with it. I’ve got shit to do. When I ran Shane’s background check, I found out he’d been a marine sniper and was having trouble adapting to civilian life after being discharged for taking his job too seriously, as he put it. After numerous arrests for disorderly conduct and assault, Shane needed a job, and I needed a man who got stuff done, no questions asked. Years later, still one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. “Almost here?” I ask, knowing my time alone with Ivy is rapidly approaching. I adjust my pants to keep my dick at bay. The thought of her makes him stand at attention. Christ, she does crazy things to me. “Yes.” Before I end the call, I ask, “Is she pissed?” My stomach

drops a little thinking about upsetting Ivy. I bury it deep and try to remember this is all part of my plan. By making Ivy jealous, she’ll come straight to me. “Oh yes.” Laughing to myself, I end the call. *** Ivy

Get me out of this vehicle. Get me out of this vehicle. Get me out of this motherfucking vehicle! If Blonde Bimbo McGee over there doesn’t shut her face, I may be so inclined to do it for her! Shane glides the SUV to the curb by the restaurant and signals for the valet to stay put. He opens my door and gestures for me to step out. Why thank you, Shane. I’ve been waiting to get out of this vehicle ever since I got in! He doesn’t offer his hand to me for assistance, but retreats to let me have more room. “Ms. Summers,” he says, in a very matter of fact voice. “Dr. Jordan will meet you inside. Please ask the hostess to seat you. She knows you’re coming.” He gives me no more information. I don’t even have time to question him about Jacade’s girl hanging out in the backseat. He walks to the driver’s door, gets in, and pulls away. I face the entrance of the restaurant, La Mia Edera, and one of the valet drivers opens the door for me. I nod to thank him. So sweet, he has to be like seventeen. Only a baby. I step across the threshold, and I’m thrown off by the ambiance. The lighting is low and precise. With striking

dark wood floors and exposed brick walls, this restaurant is enchanting. Like I’ve strolled off an ancient cobblestone street and into a dreamy Tuscany eatery. Liquor bottles sparkle in front of a huge mirror behind the bar and rows of tables covered in white linen fill the room. Each table is far enough away from the others, flawlessly set, and lit with a tealight candle. Simple. Elegant. Romantic. The focus of the room is the huge glass window that opens up onto the terrace and provides an awe-inspiring view of the Chicago River. Holy moly. I’m brought back to reality with a friendly greeting from the hostess. “Good evening, Ms. Summers.” She’s young and slim, dressed in all black, with her hair pulled in a slick ponytail. I’m caught off-guard when she says my name. She better not be another one of Jacade’s girls. I can’t take any more. I smile at her. “Good evening.” “Please follow me, and I’ll show you to your table.” I nod and follow her through open pocket doors onto the outside terrace. She leads me to the only table on the terrace set for dining guests. A heating lamp makes the space around the table cozy and warm. As I sit, I’m comforted by the fact I can still see the entrance to check for Uncle Bernie and Aunt Helen’s arrival. I’m not so comforted by the fact my seat is so close to the railing. I try not to look down at the straight plummet to the water below. The hostess hands me a menu. “Dr. Jordan will be joining you shortly. Can I bring you something to drink?”

The table already has four goblets of ice water. “Umm, no thanks. Water is fine. I’ll wait until everyone arrives. Thank you.” I smile kindly. “Please let me know if there’s anything I can get you.” She turns and heads to the front of the restaurant. While sipping my goblet of water, I notice the greenery along the terrace is ivy interspersed with tiny twinkle lights. It twines around the railing and climbs up the brick inside the restaurant. It’s impressive in this setting, considering I thought ivy was more of a weed. After ten minutes, I’m thinking everyone has stood me up. I lean back in my chair and glance at the bar. Maybe I should call the waiter over and order a drink. It may take the edge off. Or my panties off. Maybe not a good idea. Trying to calm my nerves, I place my palm on my belly and notice a group of men standing close to the front entrance of the restaurant. The man with his back to me is dressed in a black suit. To his right is what looks to be the executive chef in all white, and a young male African American teenager stands next to him. It’s strange, because from where I sit, he almost looks scared. Scared of what, though? I close my eyes briefly, because I know he’s here… somewhere. I can feel him all through my body. I open my eyes and see Jacade walking toward the group by the entrance. My breath catches at the sight of him. I stop myself from leaping over the table and scratching out the eyes of every woman in the restaurant staring at his impressive body. Hot-ass Jacade. Holy mother of god. He’s like a magnificent train wreck I can’t stop staring at. He’s wearing a one-button, charcoal pinstriped suit with a plum-colored dress shirt, open at the neck. He nods at

the hostess and joins the group of men. He shakes all of their hands before standing between the teenage boy and the chef. He looks up and catches me ogling him. Crap! I hastily lower my eyes and stare at the tealight flickering in the wind. When I get up enough guts to look up again, he’s speaking directly to the teenage boy. He pats his shoulder in a fatherly sort of way. That’s interesting. Jacade nods and strides confidently across the restaurant toward me. I can feel his eyes on me. This is the moment I’ve been dreading. I’m going to have to say something to him about the elevator incident. He has his hands in his pants pockets and gives me a one-dimple smile as he approaches. As he reaches our table, he says in a low, sexy voice, “My, my, my, Ms. Summers, you clean up nicely.” He looks me up and down from head to toe. Totally eye fucking me. His gaze is so fierce and powerful, I feel exposed and vulnerable. I’m still reeling from his ominous presence and seductive voice when he grabs my left hand and places a tender kiss in the center of my palm. I feel an electric shock run from my palm to my clit in a matter of seconds. God, those lips. Okay, Summers, remember two can play this game. I sit up a little straighter, pretend to fan myself, and say in my cutest Southern accent, “Why, thank you, Dr. Jordan. You clean up quite nicely yourself.” He smiles and shakes his head at my response. He unbuttons his jacket and sits next to me on my right. His leg bumps my thigh under the table. Jesus, the

chemistry between us is insane. “I apologize for not being able to pick you up earlier. I had a very important business matter to tend to.” His voice is formal, yet kind. His eyes rake over my body as he speaks. “No worries. Shane was very polite.” Except for Big Boobs McGee in the back seat. “Good.” He relaxes in his chair, legs spread wide, and places his left arm on the terrace railing behind me. I gaze at the ripples in the Chicago River and notice a ferryboat making its way our direction. Its worn timber deck is coated in navy paint with teal accents. Crisp white letters brand the topsides. Good Chi Times. However, with each splash, it looks like the waves have swallowed letters and renamed it Good Chi or Chi Times. Both good names, though. The tour guide stands at the bow with his hair swept under a snug Cubs baseball cap. Bundled up tourists listen to him as they lounge in dark-red chairs. For me, they’re still too close to falling over the edge like dominoes. I shiver with thoughts of being on the ferry, or even worse, it sinking into the murky waters below. “Are you chilly?” His voice is soothing as his fingertips slide down my forearm. He must’ve detected my shudder of fear. “No, I’m fine. I was just watching the ferry…” Under my breath, I utter the rest of my menacing thoughts, “of death.” I lift my water glass to my lips. “Did you say ferry of death? Are you afraid of ferries?” He smashes his lips together like he’s trying not to burst out laughing. Jackass.

“Well, no, not ferries per se. It’s more the whole sinking and drowning in the grimy water thing.” I lean my cheek on my hand and flash a cute grin his way. He straightens in his chair and places his elbows on the table, interlocking his fingers. Our elbows touch and my thoughts evaporate. When I feel his breath against my cheek, I freeze. “I wouldn’t let you drown, Ivy. I promise.” His voice has lost all playfulness. I turn my head and suck in a breath. He’s so close. My dewy lips catch his exhale and pull it inside my mouth. Our deep connection breaks when I lower my gaze to the tablecloth. The tealight flickers in the breeze, and in my peripheral vision, I see him lean back in his chair. He’s stealing all my sensibility. I’m in trouble. This is nuts. I was mad at him for the Blonde Bimbo incident when I got here. “So how did you meet your girl, Amber?” Bull’s-eye. Let’s see how you get out of this one, buddy. He doesn’t respond to my question. I stare out into the distance, avoiding his eyes. After what seems like ages, he says in an ominous voice, “Ivy, look at me.” I turn my head to the right and peek up at him. His face is still and his eyes are intense. “Amber isn’t, nor will she ever be, my girl.” I nod, but still feel the pang of jealousy scratching deep within my psyche. Time to change the subject. “I wonder what could be keeping them.” I glance at the time on my phone and notice I have a voicemail notification. I must have missed it while Amber was inanely chatting into thin air. I hold

one finger up to Jacade as I listen to the message from Aunt Helen. “Did you get a message they weren’t coming tonight?” I raise my eyebrows at him. He shifts in his seat. “I did. I spoke to Bernard. He’s not feeling well, so he decided he should stay home tonight.” But no one bothered to let me know? I guess they did. I’m confused. “Er… but why did you come?” Oops! I really wish I had a lasso I could throw out and loop around that doltish question. He gives me a reassuring smile. “Since I knew you were already on your way, I didn’t want you to show up and think we’d all stood you up.” He winks at me. “I’d still enjoy it if you stayed and had dinner with me, Ivy.” Wait. Did he kinda sorta ask me out to dinner with him? Before I can answer him or myself, a waiter walks up to our table. “Umm, Dr. Jordan. I-I’m sorry to interrupt you. Chuck, umm… Mr. Narr, would like to have a word with you.” The waiter is tall, but stammers like he’s intimidated by Jacade. But who wouldn’t be intimidated? Jacade’s eyes soften as he turns to me. “Would you excuse me for a moment?” “Of course.” He stands and strides in the direction of an area of the restaurant out of view from our table. I check out his massive thigh muscles and tight ass cheeks while he walks away. The waiter steps up to our table. “Ms. Summers, Dr. Jordan wants me to get you anything you’d like to drink. Is there something I can get you?”

Should I drink tonight? Sure, why not? I seem to have been stood up by all three of my dates at the moment. “Sure, I’d like a double vodka and cranberry with a squeeze of lime on the rocks, please.” That should calm my nerves a little. He nods and speedily returns with my drink. Great service. Uncle Bernie must be tight with the owner. Mmm, the drink is smooth and goes down easily. Like me. Jacade has still not returned when my second and third drinks arrive. I’m feeling pretty good. But by the fourth drink, I don’t remember anything. Did I say fourth or floor? Definitely floor. *** Jacade

With my hands on my hips, I glare at Chowder. “Who stole the car?” My childhood friend, Chuck, who we all call Chowder, hangs his head and looks down at the ground. “I don’t know. I’m still trying to figure that out.” “Where the hell were you when this happened?” He raises his head and his face is painted with shame and embarrassment. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. You were off getting high while your crew did whatever the hell they wanted?” I skim my hands through my hair and clasp them behind my head. “Goddammit, Chowder!” My roar resonates off the decaying brick walls of the alley behind the restaurant. Chowder’s eyes widen as he recoils from me and hits wall. Nowhere to go, fucker. I get right up in his face.

“Go. Fix. This.” I punch and he moves. I hit the brick wall and stinging pain flies through my muscles. Shit! Why did I do that? Fuck me. I shake my fist and turn away from Chowder. Asshole. The alley door clicks shut behind me as I stand in the dimly lit stairway. I put my hand against the wall and look down at my boots. This day blows. Except for the exquisite woman waiting for me at the table. How long has Ivy been sitting at the table alone? I glance at my phone and see it’s been about twenty minutes or so since I was pulled into this shit storm. I yank the door open and push through the kitchen. The kitchen staff is feverishly making tonight’s cuisine. Typically, when I enter the kitchen, I’ll hear the different voices ring out with, Hey, what’s up, man, or something to that effect. No one speaks or even comes near me. The look on my face probably speaks for itself. Yeah, I wouldn’t come near me either if I were you. I stride past the serving staff’s area and take a white dinner napkin out of the neatly folded stack. I head to the bar, trying to keep out of Ivy’s sight, and grab a handful of ice from the bin. I make it to the back office and wrap the ice-cold napkin around my knuckles, wincing from the pain. However, the pain I can handle. I welcome the pain with open arms. I decide I’m not going to think about the mayhem that will result from tonight’s fuck up, but instead, about my attractive dinner date awaiting me. Well, technically, she never said she’d stay and have dinner with me, but who are we kidding? She will. I make my way through the maze of dining room tables,

keeping my right hand tucked deep in my pants pocket. Once I step onto the terrace, I’m stopped dead in my tracks. I’m completely unprepared for what I see before me. Drunken Ivy. Like really fucking wasted Ivy. Her eyes are closed, and she’s swaying to her own music in her head. She doesn’t see me watching her and continues to dance to her private tune. Jesus… the way she’s swaying her ass and hips in that chair. Lucky chair. My mind flashes to her doing the same little number while perched on top of my dick. I don’t care what song she sings, as long as she’s doing it riding my cock. I tear my eyes away from her to find our waiter, Seth. He has some serious explaining to do if he served her too many drinks. First off, every waiter in this restaurant knows not to overserve a customer. Secondly, you don’t ever overserve my date. Especially without me present. This night keeps getting better and better. As my eyes scan the restaurant for Seth, another waiter, Mike, appears with his hands full of entrees. Mike, being a seasoned waiter, notices I don’t look happy. I probably look like I’ll kill the next person that steps in my line of sight. He steps to my left and says in a shaky voice, “Umm, Dr. Jordan, is there something I can get you? Seth left for the evening and I’ve taken over your table.” I can see he’s holding two hot plates with a crisp, white kitchen towel acting as a barrier for his hands. I look back over at Ivy. “What, and how many, has she had?” One question, two answers. That’s all I need, Mike. Let’s go.

He turns his head toward Ivy, who is still grinding to her own beat. “I think… I mean… I remember the busboy grabbing three empty glasses off the table. I’ve served her two more. Excuse me, Dr. Jordan, I need to serve these entrees.” He straightens his body and practically runs away from me. Yeah, you better run. My feet have still not moved from where I stopped on the terrace. I’m mesmerized by her playfulness and sensuality. Until she picks up a breadstick from the center of the table, using it as a microphone. Nope, time to go my karaoke queen. I approach her and sniff her almost empty glass. Yeah, top-shelf vodka and cranberry juice. She’s gonna be hurting tomorrow. I lean into her left ear and whisper, “Ivy, sweetheart, it’s time to go.” The second she hears my voice, her magnificent eyes pop open. Jesus, I could get lost in those eyes until I’m buried six feet under. She smiles, cutting me to my very core, and tries to stand. It doesn’t go well. Not well at all. Her legs are jellyfish tentacles floating in every which direction. I catch her with my arm around her waist, grab her coat and purse, and head for the door. Maybe some fresh air will do her some good. The valet pulls my hunter green Ferrari Berlinetta up to the curb. I tighten my hand around her waist and guide her to the passenger-side door. Once she’s in the passenger seat, I lean over to buckle her in. I pause because, good lord, does she smell phenomenal. I come dangerously close to those plump, pink lips of hers. They’re so begging my dick to come say hello.

“Ivy?” Her eyes open and she stares directly into mine, looking through to my soul. She whispers to me, “Yes-p, k-jade?” I try not to laugh at her drunken words. “Baby, don’t puke in my car.” She laughs, exuding pure beauty mixed with lusty friskiness. Her eyes light up and her whole body shakes with laughter. Oh, and her breasts jiggle. I close her door and hide my grin as I make my way around to the driver’s side. I palm the young valet driver a hundred and say, “Stay in school, kid.” His eyes beam and his voice is squeaky. “Thanks, Dr. Jordan! I will.” If he does, my work here is done. Turning down the volume to “Breath” by Breaking Benjamin, I pull out into light traffic and head for Ivy’s apartment. Her eyes close, and her head falls toward the passenger window. I chuckle to myself because I learned a valuable lesson tonight: Never intentionally piss off Ivy with another woman and leave her alone in a restaurant. She’ll get piss-ass drunk. I shift gears and accelerate. I notice Ivy shifting her feet about a millisecond before I do. Intriguing. Her eyes are closed, but her body is responding naturally to the needs of the car. Her black pumps, which will be imprinted into my back someday soon, are shifting gears as if she’s driving the car. Fuck me, that’s tantalizing. I shake it off and collect myself. I need to pay attention to the road. But I can’t take my eyes away from her body for too long. My gaze travels from her feet, to her thigh, to the edge of her pushed-up dress.

Is that a fucking garter belt? It is. Clipped to the sexiest pair of black stockings I’ve ever seen. I press down on my pants and adjust in my seat, trying to get my cock under control. Yeah, right, never gonna happen. Now, a gentleman would reach over and pull her dress down. But I’m no gentleman. So I leave her dress where it is and stare at that sexy-ass garter belt the whole damn way to her apartment. I park in front of her place and figure the best thing to do is to carry her in my arms. I find her keys in her purse and bring her to her bedroom. As I hold her, I can feel her balmy breath on my neck and her palm pressed flat on my chest. I never want to put her down. I could hold this sumptuous body to mine forever. I lay her head on her pillow, and in a small voice, I hear her say my name. “Jacade…” A sweet whisper, as if she were dreaming about me. I’m in trouble. Now all I want is for her to whisper my name again. I walk out of her bedroom and retrieve her bathroom garbage can to put by her bedside. I set the garbage can down and lean over to gently turn her, placing pillows behind her to keep her on her side. As I pull away, I can see the streetlights have cast a shadow on her face and her eyes are open. She’s staring at me. Beautiful. She props herself up on the edge of the bed, lifts her arms, and softly says, “Help me.” Now, as a rule I don’t take commands from anyone. However, if Ivy gives me an order to undress her, I’m going to do what I’m told. I reach down and grab the hem of her dress. As I slide it up her thighs, my thumbs bump the clips of her garter belt. She’s wearing a black thong with the garter belt and stockings. Fuck me.

Her skin is soft and supple as my fingertips travel up the edges of her stomach. She giggles and says, “That tickles.” Ivy, I can definitely tickle you. I pull her dress up, and it tangles around her wrists. She laughs and flops onto the bed with her arms tethered above her head. Jesus Christ. I’m looking at the most exquisite woman in the world. “Mmm, I’ve always wanted to be tied up,” she mumbles and raises her body to a sitting position. Shoot me. Right here where I fucking stand. I help her unwrap her wrists with my eyes locked on her jiggling breasts. She lies down like an angel on a cloud, her lips curved in a content smile. I take one more long look at her, memorize the image for my spank bank, and flee the room so I don’t screw her into oblivion.

CHAPTER 8

Ivy

Ugh, the sunlight. I throw my arm over my eyes to attempt to block the obnoxious rays coming through my bedroom window. Crap, I drank way too much last night. Why the hell did today have to be so goddamn sunny? I gradually sit up and plant my feet on the hardwood floors. The cooler temperature from the floor feels good between my toes. As I prepare myself to stand, I notice I’m only in my bra, thong, garter belt and stockings. I look around my room but don’t see my dress anywhere. What the heck happened last night? Please tell me I didn’t sleep with Jacade and not remember it? I have to remember something like that. I vaguely remember thinking I needed to call a cab, because I wasn’t sure if he was ever going to return to the table. I’ll have to think about last night’s details later. I need to focus on not throwing up. I feel like I just got off the Gravitron but decided to walk onto the Tilt-A-Whirl. I hoist my lethargic body off my bed and amble to my bathroom. I can’t even remember how I got home. I haven’t been this drunk since college. What possessed me to drink so much? No, I remember, hot-as-hell Jacade. I can still picture him stalking toward me through the dim light of the restaurant. His fierce eyes fixated on me and no one else. I finish up in the bathroom and head into the living room. A pillow and a neatly folded blanket are stacked on my couch. I walk over and pick up what looks like a note

written on a prescription pad:

I set the note down and back away from it as if it’s the plague. I can’t believe he brought me home, took care of me, and slept on the couch. I was so out of it, he totally could’ve had his way with me. Even if I wasn’t drunk, he could’ve had his way with me. He probably felt sorry for the batty drunk girl and politely took me home. But why would he sleep on the couch? My phone dings on the kitchen counter. I see a text message from a person who is in my contact list as just the letter J. J: Good morning. I covered for you. Sleep it off. Why is J covering for me? It hits me like a brick. And bricks hurt, even when you’re not hung over. He must have programmed his number into my phone before he left this morning. But wait, why is he covering for me again? My brain is not functioning properly. Me: Morn. Coverin’ for what? Okay, that was a good text response. Short, simple, and to the point. J: Most people have to work on Tuesdays. I look at the clock and see it’s 10:00 am. Shit. I’m totally

late for work. *** Ivy

It’s almost 11:15 am when I push through the office door. I see Aunt Helen and mouth I’m sorry to her, even though she’s on the phone. I keep my head down and hustle past my, I mean Jacade’s, office door, trying not to look for him. I reach my new office and rush to my desk. My new office is okay. Not as nice as the other one, but it’ll do. I boot-up my laptop and as I’m waiting, I flip through files Uncle Bernie has set on my desk for review. As I flip the second page on the first file, I hear someone clear their throat. I look up to see Jacade’s massive body leaning against the doorframe. He’s dressed to the nines, as usual. Fucking sex god on a goddamn stick. He’s wearing a mock turtleneck under a beige fleece sweater, unzipped to the middle of his ripping pecs. His khaki dress pants fit him like a glove. I glance down and see distressed, espresso-colored boots and give him credit for some exquisite shoes. Good lord, this man can dress. He leans against the doorframe with his hands in his pockets, his black stethoscope draped around the collar of his sweater. I’m not sure how long I look at him, because he smiles a lopsided grin and says, “May I come in, Ms. Summers?” “Umm, sure.” What’s with the formalities?

I try not to look at him, but it’s impossible. He sits in the office chair across from me and crosses one ankle over his knee. He balances his elbow on the arm of the chair and holds his head up with his fingers at his temples. He focuses on me with a look of fierce determination. I can feel him deep down in my belly. Accidentally, okay, maybe not completely by accident, I glance down to his crotch. His hefty bulge is causing his zipper to strain at the well-designed teeth. Geesh. He’s got a tempting package in those impressive pants. I lick my upper lip as I attempt to decipher the bumps and valleys of Jacade’s bulge. When I realize what I’ve done, I squirm in my chair. I hope he didn’t notice. I take a deep breath. “What can I do for you, Dr. Jordan?” Maybe I should’ve phrased my question differently, because there are plenty of things I can do for him. Or to him. He doesn’t respond. He only leers at me. What is his deal? He looks angry, I think. Maybe he’s annoyed with me after last night? I’m not sure, because I can’t remember what happened last night! Either way, Dr. Jordan and his piercing blue eyes and thick, dark lashes are stunning when he’s angry. Or whatever he is. Finally, after what seems like forever, he speaks in a calm tone. “Ms. Summers, what you can do for me is not do what you did to me last night.” Crap, what did I do? My brain is mentally flipping flashcards, trying to signal even a small memory from last night. Nope, sorry. Nothing. I interlock my fingers and lean onto my desk. I stare at him with my I am woman, hear me roar eyes. You want to fight, Jordan? Let’s fight.

“Dr. Jordan…” My voice comes out a little more passive than I’d intended, so I clear my throat and continue, “if there is a point to this conversation, I suggest you get to it. I have a lot of work to do.” Ha! So there, Mr. Drop Dead Gorgeous. He throws his head back and produces a deep throaty laugh. Okay, I’m missing something. He plants his feet on the floor and leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “You have no recollection of last night, do you?” His smile makes his dimple appear. I hate and love his adorable dimple. “I remember only what I need to, Dr. Jordan.” I turn toward my laptop and pretend to go through my email. I’m not going to let him know I can’t remember anything from last night after he left me alone at the table. He’s a controlling ass who needs to be put in his place. “Okay, Ms. Summers. So you remember asking me to help you undress?” My gaze shoots to his. “And then passing out while I stood there gaping at your breathtaking body in the moonlight?” My face probably turns every shade of red in a Crayola box. His giddy grin emphasizes the fact he’s fully aware I have no memory of last night. “I didn’t think so. And tempting me by saying you’d always wanted to be tied up?” I said that? It’s completely true, but damn my drunken words. I rewind the evening in my mind again. I remember the restaurant and the many drinks… but nothing until this morning.

He snaps his fingers and pulls me to the present. His eyes have darkened to a turbulent navy. “So, now is the time. The interminable wait is finally over.” He’s so confident in this. What wait is over? “Ivy, tell me something. If I asked you to say one word that makes you feel safe, what would you say?” That’s an odd question. I say the first word that comes to my mind. “Cashmere.” He pins me with his eyes as he pushes himself up from the chair. He nods at me, then turns and walks out the door without saying another word. What the hell? This man is bizarre. A rush of embarrassment floods my entire body. What was I thinking, getting drunk with a coworker? My coworker who is more than likely mega rich, sexy as hell, and makes my lady parts come to attention like he’s their general. Plus, he’s technically my gorgeous-ass boss. Technically. I lean back in my leather chair, breathing heavily. Why am I so turned on? He didn’t even touch you, Summers! It was his powerful presence and mischievous attitude making me hot all over. And his intriguing endowment clearly visible behind his zipper. I can faintly hear his voice speaking to Aunt Helen, and I think he mentions my name. I’m too humiliated to go out there and find out why. I’ll stay in my hole of an office, thank you very much. I’m good in my chair. I put my hands on my forehead and flop my head down on my desk. He’s consuming my every thought. And he knows it. He fucking knows it. The look in his eyes tells me even when he says nothing.

Does he do this to all of his girls? With Amber? No, wait, I don’t want to know the answer. Not at all. The thought of him touching another woman, and especially Amber, makes my skin crawl. A few minutes later, he reappears in my doorway with his phone to his ear. He says nothing and ends the call as he crosses the threshold. He locks the door and turns to face me, crossing his arms over his chest, begging my fingernails to dig into his solid pecs while I ride him hard. His look is pure sin, desire, and determination all directed at me. I must look like a confused doe standing in rapidly approaching headlights. The doe knows she should turn and run, but can’t move. So I, the confused doe, stay and anxiously wait for the head-on collision coming from the sultry force of nature known as Jacade. “Ivy, you and I are going to play a little game.” His voice strips me down until I feel naked. I’ll play any fucking game you want me to, as long as you’re playing with me. Without thinking I blurt out, “What kind of game?” Once the words leave my mouth, I wish I could rewind to about five seconds earlier. The way he’s standing and speaking to me, I know this is no time for questions. He’s going to blast through all the barriers and forts I’ve erected to keep men like him out. This is a game I’m going to play because he’s already decided it for me. He chuckles, and for a moment, I see a playful boy peeking through. But he swiftly recovers and locks his stoic mask into place. His stern voice answers my blurted question. “A game in which you don’t speak unless you’re instructed to do so.” He raises his eyebrows and wrinkles appear on his forehead.

Well, that shut me up. “I’m impressed. You learn quickly.” He moves closer until he’s standing directly in front of my desk with his arms still across his rippling chest. I peek up at him through my mascara-ridden eyelashes, attempting to gauge his feeling or mood. But, his blockade is secure. No emotions in or out. “You’re going to do everything I tell you to do for the next twenty minutes. Just twenty minutes.” He pauses while I catch up. A game? I can’t even think when I’m around him. How am I supposed to play a game? I’m elated Feminist Ivy called in sick today, but Slut Ivy has graciously picked up the slack and located a pen and paper, waiting to take notes on the rules of his game. Way to go, Slut Ivy. “These are the rules. First, you don’t speak unless I tell you to. Second, you do everything I say. No questions asked. No hesitating or arguing. No attitude.” He’s staring into the depths of my soul, searching for my reaction to his words. Without thinking, like I always do, I open my mouth to speak. He stares at me with a look of disapproval and shakes his head from side to side. “No words, Ivy. Those are the rules.” I snap my mouth shut. I stare at him, studying his facial features. Maybe I’ll see a clue as to what kind of game he’s playing. He shows me nothing. Wow, he’s good. I have no idea what cards he’s holding, except for the unsettling feeling he already has clinched my very own

ace of hearts. “You game, sweetheart?” His challenge glows in his dynamic eyes. Fine, Jacade, I’ll play your game with your rules. Ante up, big boy. I glare at him and nod. He’s such a pompous asshole, but the reality is I’d play any dang game he wanted me to. I close my eyes and take a deep breath. I try to prepare myself for what is about to happen, but I instantly I realize I can’t. I open my eyes and he has made his way around to my side of the desk. He reaches over and puts my desk phone on Do not disturb. Okay, his game must involve something that we can’t be disturbed from. The thought makes Slut Ivy drool, which falls and smears across all the important notes she took. Dammit, Slut Ivy! We needed those. He closes my laptop and moves it and the files off my desk. He’s so close to me, I can smell his cologne and shiver as his pants brush across the bare skin of my arm. He’s confident and contained. I, on the other hand, am a fucking hot mess. To try to give my self-esteem a boost before his little game, I cling to how I felt getting dressed this morning. My purple pencil skirt and fitted, white, button-up blouse have always made me feel sexy and seductive. On a normal day, I’m neither of those words. But, somehow, pairing it with my six-inch purple shimmer heels is adding fuel to my mojo. He whispers in my ear. “There is one exception, Ivy. If at any point you need a time out, just say cashmere, and the game ends. No questions asked. Understand?”

I nod again. I understand, Jacade. He straightens and stands in front of me while I sit. Perfect angle to suck the head of his dick into my mouth, but I can’t because I have to follow his rules to his dumb game. Too bad for you, Jacade, you cock blocked yourself. He turns and leans his ass on the edge of my desk. He looks down at me and says in a commanding voice, “Stand up.” Without thinking, I’m on my feet. A little eager, Summers? He grasps my hips and turns me around so I’m facing the wall a few feet away. I can feel the heat from his body, but he isn’t touching me. He stands behind me and my anxiety spikes. My heart is racing. His breath brushes my ear. “Breathe, Ivy.” Shit, he’s right. I haven’t taken a breath since before my wonderful elevator ride yesterday morning. Inhale. Exhale. His deep tone reverberates in my ears. “I’m going to blindfold you. I’m not going to hurt you in any way. You must trust me. Nod if you agree.” I nod and feel a silky handkerchief cover my eyes. Meticulously, he ties the handkerchief behind my head. He tugs me to his body, and I know at any moment I’m going to collapse. Yet, I feel it deep down in my soul. Jacade would never let me fall. I take in a deep breath and exhale. I have no idea what is coming next and it’s driving me crazy. He lowers his mouth to my right ear and whispers, “It’s believed when people lose one of their senses, it heightens all others. That’s why you’re blindfolded.”

He takes a breath. “I want your complete and utter trust.” He pushes himself up against my backside, causing me to stumble forward somewhat. He grabs my hips to steady me. “By giving me your trust, Ivy, you’re letting me always be there to catch you.” I’m breathing in rhythm with him as he moves toward my other ear and begins whispering again. “Since the very first time I ever laid eyes on you, I knew I had to have you. I wanted your body, your mind, and your soul to be ravished by me and only me.” My thong is wet and my breasts are swollen and heavy. That’s when I hear a loud thud in my head and realize Slut Ivy has passed out and hit the floor. He moves around me, trailing his index finger from the back of my neck toward the hollow of my throat. “My god, you’re radiant. Absolutely sublime.” His chest bumps mine as he walks me backward to the edge of my desk. I place my hands on the desk to balance myself. He reaches down and slides my skirt up to my hips. He grabs my waist, lifts me with his powerful arms, and plants my butt on the desk. I’m gasping for breath. What’s he going to do to me? He trails his hands down my right leg and calf and removes my heel. I hear it drop to the floor. He does the same to the other leg and shoe. He grabs my right foot and massages right below my toes. Ahh, feels marvelous. I lean, using my arms as support and drop my head. I can feel every touch… the pad of his thumb trails from the top of my foot, through the arch, and ends at my heel. He releases my right foot and begins massaging my

left the same way. Holy shit. I could die this instant and be completely satisfied with my life. He places my feet up against his chest, and I realize he’s been squatting in front of me. I wiggle my toes and feel his chest muscles. Yep, as hard as a rock. As he rises, my toes slide down his shirt and over his cock. Yep, hard as a rock there, too. My feet rest on his thighs as he traces figure eights behind my knees with the tips of his fingers. He leans in, and his warm breath brushes my cheek. “Do you trust me, Ivy?” I nod. Because I do. Jacade has never once given me a reason not to trust him, even if I only met him yesterday. Details, details. My body feels as if it knows him. Knows his caress. Knows his warm, heady breath. I’m so relaxed. I’m silly putty wrapped around every single one of his fingers. “Do you like having your nipples pinched, Ivy?” I nod and exhale sharply. I know he feels the energy crackling through the air because his voice is rough and thick. “Hard?” I nod again. “Good girl.” He wraps his hands behind my knees and yanks them apart. I’m shocked, but quickly shift closer to the edge of the desk. My brain may be putty, but my body knows what it wants. He steps between my thighs and presses up against me.

He brushes his soft, full lips to mine and inhales. “I’m not going to fuck you, Ivy. Not now, at least.” His mouth slams into mine so desperately I hardly have time to keep up. Wait, what? Not fuck me? His tongue parts my lips and dances with mine. He stops to suck on my bottom lip, then drives his tongue back into my mouth. I wrap my arms around his neck and push my hips harder up against his zipper. He breaks our kiss, and I feel lonely, like a part of me has left. Until I feel him kissing his way down my neck to my collarbone. He pauses and inhales. He fists my blouse and rips it open in one swift movement. I can hear the pearl buttons hitting the floor like raindrops. My breasts are so heavy from need. Can he see how much I want him to suck on them? Thank god I wore my white lacy bra, making them perky as hell. “You’re gorgeous,” he whispers as he teases his finger idly over one of my erect nipples through my lace bra. I’m breathing so heavily and want him inside me pronto. I whimper. “I know, Ivy. But I meant what I said. I’m not going to fuck you here, not like this.” He grabs the slit in my pencil skirt and, with a strong jerk, rips the slit the rest of the way up to my waist. He sighs, and I hear him take in a deep breath. “Jesus, Ivy,” he utters as he exhales, and I feel him cruise his warm hands up to the tops of my thighs. “Don’t worry, I’ll buy you a new one… and a new shirt… maybe.” He chuckles to himself. I find nothing about this funny. I’m trying to focus on staying in the upright position. I feel something cold against my chest in my cleavage. It slides underneath the

connecting strap of my bra. Snip! My heavy breasts burst free of their restraints. “I’m so hard for you. I love your fucking tits.” His tongue flicks my nipple, and I grab his neck and dig my hands into his hair. I throw my head back in utter elation. “Your nipples are begging for me.” He gathers my entire breast in one of his strong hands while his mouth closes over my nipple. I’m trying to be as quiet as possible, but god, I’ve never felt passion like this. I let out a low moan, hoping he doesn’t hear me. Instead, he says, “Mmm. Your titties are mine, Ivy. You’re mine.” Okay, I’m yours, but please, for the love of god, don’t stop. He switches to my other breast, and I whimper a little louder as the warm wet feeling covers my other nipple. He lowers his voice and keenly reprimands me. “Hush.” I bite my lower lip, trying to stifle the moans wanting to escape my mouth. He continues his feast on my breasts when I feel him rip my white lace thong in half. He cups my sex with his palm. “Shaved, huh? I like. You’ll feel me so much better.” He takes my mouth again and moves his hand up, pushing his index finger between my folds. When he first rubs my clit, I quiver and pant for air. I’m gonna come. I’m gonna come. “You don’t come until I tell you to.” What? How the hell am I going to control my orgasm? He breaks me from my own thoughts as he sucks on my

nipple again and rubs his entire finger up and down along my clit. I’ve never felt so good. So wanted. “Lean back on your hands, but keep your ass on the edge.” I comply because I don’t want him to stop. Ever. “You know, I never realized how fucking hot office supplies can be…” Whatever, don’t stop massaging my clit. Don’t stop. I repeat this over and over in my head as my hips curve in the direction of his fingers. I feel his hot breath close to my lips. I tilt my head up, thinking he might kiss me, but instead he pauses and says, “Like for instance, these black binder clips…” He shoves his tongue deep into my mouth as something, what I can only assume to be a binder clip, snaps closed over one of my nipples. Ow, fuck! I attempt to cry out in pain, but he thrusts his tongue into my mouth even harder. My nipple is throbbing, but eventually the sharp sting fades into something amazing. He snaps another clip on my other nipple and closes his mouth tight over mine to drown out my screams. I hear him slide my desk chair and lower himself between my legs. I can’t see anything, but I can only imagine what he’s seeing. I flush with embarrassment. But who cares? He lifts my legs and drapes my knees over his shoulders, spreading my thighs wide. I’m completely exposed to him. Umm, he’s going to eat me out? On my desk? In my new office? He presses his nose against my clit and I hear a sigh of contentment.

“You smell heavenly. I bet you taste even better.” He slides his tongue from my entrance all the way up to my throbbing clit. I feel the rush from my toes to my head. He flicks my clit once with his tongue then sucks it up into his plump lips. He circles his tongue around my clit. God. The blindfold makes every touch so intense. “You’re so responsive,” he growls, and I can feel his heated breath on my skin. “Let’s see how wet you are for me.” He shoves one finger, then another, inside me. I gasp. He moves his fingers in and out at a slow pace. Is he watching as he finger fucks me? Just when I think it can’t get any better, I feel him push a third finger in and I buck upward. The binder clips shake and pleasure-pain zips from my nipples to my clit. “Argh…” He doesn’t say a word as he places his hand on my lower belly and pushes my hips down to the edge of the desk. He begins a pattern of plunging his fingers in while flicking and sucking my clit with his tongue at the same, steady rhythm. Then he shifts to a more slow and sensual pace. He pulls his fingers completely out of me and rams his tongue up into my entrance. His tongue keeps up with his newfound rhythm. In and out. In and out. His upper lip nudges my clit. Christ. He knows exactly how to do this. I reach down and grab his hair and gyrate my hips into his scrumptious assault. “I could eat your pussy at every meal, every goddamn day.” His voice vibrates off my sex. The rush of my orgasm hovers on the horizon. He must feel it too, because he backs off a little. I use the moment

to take in a much-needed breath before he resumes his ministrations and works me up again. Finally I hear, “Come, baby.” He curves his fingers upward, hitting my G-spot. At the same time, he twists one of the binder clips and sucks my clit deep into his mouth. I fly into the cosmic space of orgasm world. It bursts through me like a rocket pulsing from my core. He rises and unsnaps one binder clip, then the other, from my nipples. Ouch! Fuck, that stings. He presses one palm flat against one red, abused nipple and sucks the other one into his mouth. He laves it with his tongue, easing the burn and sending tingles through my body. I ride his fingers as he moves to the other nipple and gives it the same treatment. Hot damn, he’s eating me alive. As I’m coming down to earth, he leans in and whispers, “No, you’re not done yet.” What? He wiggles his three fingers against my G-spot, quick and intense. Stop. No, don’t. I can’t take it. He keeps it up. He presses his thumb against my sensitive clit and moves it the tiniest fraction. Another orgasm shoots through me. I’ve never come more than once. Boy, oh boy. As I’m trying to catch my breath, he removes the blindfold. I blink rapidly to adjust to the light and then see what I look like. Blouse and skirt ripped, my breasts red and swollen, and my stretch marks very apparent on my stomach. I immediately wrap my blouse around me.

His index finger lifts my chin up to meet his eyes. “You never hide from me. Eyes on me.” I look up into his eyes and realize he means business. He smiles. “Besides, even if you hide, I’ll always find you and bring you back to me.” He leans forward and kisses my forehead gently. A sign of intimacy, not just sex. Interesting. “Stay here for a minute. I’ll only be a minute.” He pulls away from me and unlocks the door to leave. Where is he going? I’m still naked! My mind is spinning and my body aches for the return of his warmth. He returns and lays a garment bag across my desk. He looks up at me and winks. “I told you I’d buy you another one.” He unzips the bag, and I see an outfit very similar to what I was wearing, but different. How the hell? What if someone notices? He chuckles. “I thought this might happen. I pay Shane pretty well to do whatever I need him to do. That includes having new clothes ready in your size, in case I get carried away. Which I did. Lean back.” He wipes a damp washcloth against my sex and kisses my ear. He pulls a small bottle of lotion from his pocket, places some onto his palm, and massages my nipples. He kisses each one before he reaches out to stand me on my feet. He holds up the new thong and helps me into it. Next, he slips on the straps of the new bra and fastens it. I can smell his scent all over me. He whispers in my ear. “Don’t worry. If someone asks about your new clothes, say I ripped ‘em off you.” His smirk lights up his eyes. Hah! No way. I’ll say I spilled something on myself, which

happens frequently, so it’s a believable lie. He buttons my replacement blouse and zips me up into my new pencil skirt. He leans in and gives me a thorough and passionate kiss. He breaks the kiss. “Now, that’s what I call a good fucking morning.” He smacks my ass and saunters out of my office. Sweet Jesus.

CHAPTER 9

Jacade

Mmm. What a finger-licking Ivy good time. I head to my office with a smug smile on my face. She did surprisingly well. To the point where it was difficult for me not to fuck her. Hell, did I want to ram into her. My cock was so damn hard, it hurt. I enter my office and pull out my phone to text her. Me: Tonight. My place. 7 pm. Shane will pick you up. Clothing optional. I chuckle to myself and slip my phone in my pocket. I sit down at my desk, adjusting this goddamn erection in my pants. Fucking blue balls. I imagine her in her office still trying to figure out what just happened. Woman, don’t analyze everything. Go with it and take it for what it was. An awesome, pussy-eatin’ good time. I don’t even check to see if Ivy replies to my text. I know she’ll be there tonight because all of my plans are now her plans. Sorry, sweetie, the way you quivered underneath me sealed your fate. As I unlock my laptop and look at my daily patient schedule, Bernard walks in my office and closes the door. I glance up to see the exact expression I was expecting to see. This oughta be interesting. He stands in front of my desk and places his hands flat on the mahogany wood. He’s hulked out. He knows. He

leans in and stares directly into my eyes. “Grab your shit and let’s go. Something went down last night and we’ve been called in to do damage control.” *** Ivy

I peek out my office door and find it pretty quiet for a Tuesday. I venture down the hallway and see Aunt Helen sitting at the check-in desk. No patients in the waiting room. I walk up behind her and she jumps. “Ivy! You scared me half to death.” She places her hand over her heart. “I’m sorry. I was surprised at how quiet it is in here. This is still a plastic surgery office, right?” I lean on the desk, trying to look nonchalant, but I know I can’t pull it off. Especially in front of Aunt Helen, she knows me too well. She sighs and says, “I believe we still are, but you wouldn’t know it with all the appointments I’ve had to cancel lately.” They cancelled more appointments today? This probably happened during Jacade’s tongue and finger attack. “Aunt Helen, is everything okay? I haven’t been back more than a day and I’ve barely seen Uncle Bernie. Why are you cancelling appointments?” I silently pray Uncle Bernie’s cancer hasn’t returned. She looks up from her file and speaks in a placating tone. “Don’t worry. Everything’s fine. I haven’t wanted to bother Bern. You know…” She waves her hand in the air. “The property contracts for the surgery center are due for renewal. It’s probably something related to that.” She seizes my hand in hers and gives it a little squeeze. “Ivy, if it was something like before, he would tell us. I know he

would.” Her eyes are kind, but I can still see something very much like worry buried in them. I stand up. “I guess so. If you need any help up here, come get me.” “You know I will.” She smiles and resumes her previous task. I walk down the hallway to my office and go straight to my phone in my purse. I’m secretly hoping Jacade has sent me a text or called. Once I unlock my screen, I see a text from him about dinner tonight and that clothing is optional. Clothing optional? Is this a booty call? I’m still in shock, but laugh when I see Slut Ivy holding up a handwritten sign, No clothes for me, thanks. She’s flippin’ crazy. I set my phone down on my desk and push through a couple of files, but my mind keeps replaying my earlier conversation with Aunt Helen. An awful unsettled feeling simmers deep down in my gut. I sneak into Uncle Bernie’s office without Aunt Helen noticing and head for the locked filing cabinet in his desk. One talent I picked up during my phase of being a not so good teenager was how to pick a lock. The drawer pops open. Yep, still got it. I hunt for what will either prove me wrong or right, depending on how you look at it. I’m hoping it proves me wrong. More like praying I’m wrong. I find the file marked Contracts and riffle through the papers until I find the ones for the surgery center. There it is. In bold writing, clear as day. The surgery center contracts were signed in 2013 and aren’t due for revision for three more years. Aunt Helen just lied to me.

CHAPTER 10

Jacade

I really wish Bernard would shut his trap. I heard all this crap from the council already. I’m not even listening to him complain anymore. All I hear coming out of his mouth is, Blah, blah, blah-blah, blah, blah. Click. I load the magazine into my pistol and slide it into my waistband behind my back. I pull my leather jacket across my shoulders as Bernard slows the vehicle. This car is a nasty-ass piece of junk. The good thing about the car is if something happens, which it probably will, we’re not in our own vehicles. He yells, “Jacade! Have you even been listening to a fucking word I’ve said?” Sorry, was I supposed to be? I stopped listening a long time ago, considering I’ve already told you I’d fix this. How many more languages do you need me to put it in for you? I reach for the car door and he snaps his fingers to get my attention. Okay, fine, what do you want? I turn my head and face him. His eyebrows are drawn together and new stress wrinkles have popped up around his face. “You better fix this and now. You got me?” The respect I have for him is the only reason I’m letting him get away with talking to me like that. “Yeah, I get you.” I step out of the car, and before I close the door, he leans

over the center console. “Your crew started this. You finish it. Otherwise, we’re going to have an all-out war on our hands. The last time this happened was about three years ago. Remember?” I pause and give him an eyeful of my wrath. I could cut him into tiny pieces and mail him to Helen for bringing it up. “Yeah, I thought you would,” he says in a menacing tone. I slam the car door as he pulls away from the curb. Dick. Of course I remember. Ivy almost fucking died. I take the three steps down to the entrance of the deli and pull open the door. Man, I love it in here. The smell of fresh baked bread and homemade sauces. The hum of casual conversation between customers. Mario looks up from his place at the meat slicer and gives me a nod. I reciprocate and keep walking through to the back of the deli. I pull the door open and cross the alley. I bang my fist against the metal door three times. I knock again, louder. Anytime, dumbasses. I hear a muffled male voice through the door. “Password?” You have to be kidding me. I do not have the patience for this. “Open the fucking door!” I hear scrambling and the door pushes open. I’m not even sure who opened it, because I push past him and go right for my targets. I hear them all laughing as I enter the room. No one notices me at first, so I decide to make my presence known. “You all having a good time?” They jump as if I’d lit their asses on fire. I hear a few murmured Shits and Fucks. I scan the room and then growl, “Sit,” which is exactly what they all do. Very fast. Yeah, you all should be

petrified of me. I’m almost scared of myself. I lean on the pool table with my palms flat to the soft green fabric, the overhead light beaming on me. I look up and see five boys. I’d say men, but they aren’t. Even though the oldest is twenty-eight. Boys I was going to help after they fulfilled their part of the deal with us. I was going to give them all jobs in my restaurants or in my clubs. A chance to make a good life. Now, I have no idea how to help them. No idea at all. But I have been told how to deal with this situation. So there’s no thinking involved. Their reaction to my surprise visit makes me chuckle. Yeah, it’s unusual for me to show up in the middle of a random Tuesday, but they should’ve expected it after what happened last night. However, these boys aren’t the sharpest tools in the shed. From left to right, I stare at each one of them. Matt is sitting on the far left side of the couch, Sly to his right. Kyle and Rory are frozen solid. Chowder is sitting in an armchair on my far right. His face is beat up bad. Viktor and his crew must have got to him. Serves you right, asshole. You know better. “You okay?” I ask him. Chowder meets my eyes. “I’m good, Trip. Nothing I can’t handle.” I shudder as he says Trip. That privilege is gone. Our look passes an unspoken word that if he needs medical attention, he will find me. So I drop it. Matt breaks the tension in the room and attempts to speak. “Trip… I—” I whip my head around glare into his terrified eyes. I

snarl, “Do not speak.” He lowers his head and slouches. I pause, trying to control my anger. “What happened last night?” No one responds or acknowledges my question. “Someone needs to tell me what the hell happened last night!” My deep roar booms through the room. All the heads in the room turn toward Sly. Apparently, they all seem to think Sly is the lucky bastard who gets to speak to me. “Uh, by accident, we took… uh… the wrong car,” Sly says. I tilt my head in his direction. “Could you repeat that, please?” He looks like a cornered animal fearing for his life. He repeats himself. “We took… uh… the wrong car, Trip.” I nod and watch as they all react to Sly’s confession. At one point, I felt like these boys were my own, but now there isn’t much I can do. They’ve tied my hands. I was one of them once, stealing cars to get by. But I also knew how to follow simple instructions. I walk around to the other side of the pool table, remove my coat, and drape it over the table. I lean on the edge, pull my pistol out, and grip it in my right hand. That got their attention. Yeah, boys, you all know I’ve used it, and I will again. I try to control my anger as I speak. “Do you all fully understand the shit storm you created last night? ‘Cause I’m not convinced you do.” I fold my arms across my chest, letting my pistol dangle

in my hand. My voice is calm. “So let me get this straight. One of you imbeciles miraculously ended up in the wrong territory, on the wrong street, and stole the wrong goddamn car,” I’m having trouble controlling my voice, “without ever thinking to yourself, Hey, maybe I should search the car first? ‘Cause see, in my mind, you either have to be a damn amateur or really asinine to miss a tied-up hostage in the fuckin’ trunk!” They flinch and squirm as my voice resonates off the concrete walls. I regain my composure. “So gentlemen, you can see where my frustration lies.” Dead silence and no one dares to look me in the eye. I shake my head, trying to understand what they were thinking. I rub the tip of my pistol on my temple and chuckle. “Really, I mean, who’s that fucking stupid?” It sounded like a rhetorical question, but they all know I want an answer. “I can wait all day, boys.” I change my mind. “But since I have plans, I’m not going to.” I rise and head straight for the weakest link, Kyle. I push the pistol into Kyle’s forehead and yell, “Who the fuck boosted a goddamn car with a hostage in the trunk?” And again, no one responds. “Kyle, you better fucking tell me or I swear to god…” He’s crying and babbling dopey-ass shit with tons of pleases. Chowder pipes up. “Trip, come on, man. We didn’t know. I swear to you.” I rotate my elbow to the right and point my pistol between his eyes. “Chowder, I’d choose your words very wisely. You were in charge of these numb-nuts and whatever words you say at this moment might be your last.” My adrenaline is

pumping through my veins at lightning speed. “Got anything else to say to me?” Chowder closes his mouth and doesn’t move a muscle. I turn the muzzle of my gun to point at Rory. “Well, Rory, got any ideas as to whose bright idea this was?” He closes his eyes while mumbling the Lord’s Prayer. Poor Rory, that’s not gonna help you. I move toward Matt. With my pistol to his temple, I whisper into his ear, “How about you Matt-y? Got any ideas?” He looks like he’s going to pee his pants. “Trip, seriously, I didn’t know, man.” I whip around and point my pistol right into Sly’s face. He backs away from me until he hits the couch. He flops down with his head on the top of the couch, gaping up at me in fear. Moron. He holds his hands up in defense. “This buddy of mine said there was this sweet-ass car a couple blocks down. He said he scoped it out and the guy would show up at this whore’s house depending on the day. I wasn’t going to do it…” I grind my teeth and stare into his eyes as he continues, “But I… I really wanted the money.” I don’t even have words for him. His voice is shaking more and more with every word he says. “I got turned around in that neighborhood and… and I just went for it. I looked into the house window and saw him with the whore. I knew it was gonna be my only chance.” I push the gun closer to his face, almost touching his nose. “I… I did everything right and took off. I swear to you, I didn’t know a girl was tied up in the trunk. I didn’t know! I didn’t know it was Viktor’s!”

My ears buzz and rage blinds my vision. He messed with the wrong man and the wrong car. Although I believe him that it wasn’t intentional, I can’t help him. He didn’t follow strict instructions put in place for all of our protection. He put every single one of us in jeopardy. He put my life with Ivy in jeopardy. He begs. “Trip, I didn’t know. You have to believe me.” I continue to stare at him without saying a word. What am I supposed to say? Nice screw-up, Sly. Now there’s a bounty on your head. You may have inadvertently started a territory war and fucked up a truce put in place three years ago. Good job pissing off the fucking devil himself. The same demon I sold my soul to three years ago for Ivy’s. Now I’m the one who has to provide the proof it’s been dealt with. “It doesn’t matter what I believe.” I pull the trigger. One shot rings out, hitting Sly right between the eyes. The sound echoes through the room and the wall behind him splatters with blood. The others flinch and cower away from me. Matt leans over the arm of the couch and vomits. Sly’s blood oozes onto the couch. Sly is dead and it had to be done. For Ivy. For our future. For our safety. I lower my pistol and step away from his slumping body. I wipe the sweat off my forehead with the back of my hand. They all stare at his limp body, their faces frozen masks of shock and betrayal at the gruesome sight. Chowder doesn’t look at me. Where are your balls now? Tucked between your legs? Yeah, that’s why I’m here and you’re there.

I flip open a burner phone and snap a picture of Sly’s dead body. I type in a few phone numbers and caption the picture message with, It’s been dealt with, and hit send. I drop the phone onto the tile floor and smash it to pieces with my boot. I turn and leer at Chowder with eyes as cold as steel. He feels my glare and raises his eyes to mine. “This is what happens when you fuck up and don’t control your crew.” I point a finger at him. “This one’s on you, Chowder, and you’re gonna clean this shit up.” I jam my pistol into the back of my pants and reach for my coat. Without another glance, I march to the door. “And don’t you ever fucking call me Trip again.”

CHAPTER 11

Ivy

The light of dusk bounces off cars passing by as I watch out the backseat window of the Escalade. I wonder what their lives are like. I see an older woman driving with her dog on her lap as they head north. Occasionally the dog gives her a kiss of appreciation. I finally conclude that she’s going to a doggy beauty pageant. Yep, that’s got to be where she’s going. Shane’s voice breaks my make-believe game. “Ms. Summers? Dr. Jordan instructed me to drop you off at the door. The doorman will escort you in. Punch in 6680, and the elevator will take you to the penthouse.” I peer into his eyes in the rearview mirror. “Got it. 6680. Penthouse.” I wish I could return to my make-believe game, because my mind is free to wander back to Aunt Helen. I can’t stop thinking about it. Why would she lie to me? Maybe she really didn’t know anything? All I do know for sure is something does not feel right. I smooth out the wrinkles in my gray dress pants and straighten my red V-neck sweater. My black, knee-high boots look a little dirty, but not too bad. I wasn’t sure what he had in mind for us tonight, so I decided to go with marginally dressy with some irresistible flare. I feel the SUV slow and Shane pulls up next to the curb in front of the Keller Building, so it says on the doors. He opens my door and I step out into the brisk fall air. I wrap

my short, wool trench coat around my body and walk toward the doors. Yeesh, it’s cold. The doorman speedily opens the door for me and smiles. “Ma’am.” I smile and notice his name tag says Joe. I bet Joe the doorman has a wife and six kids that adore him. He looks the type. I head for the elevator and hit the button marked P for penthouse. 6680. I hear a ping and a feeling of buoyancy passes through me as the elevator climbs effortlessly toward the higher floors. After a few seconds and another ping, the doors glide open to an elegant foyer. I stand there, wondering if Mr. Hotness will be greeting me at the door, but he never materializes. I feel awkward as my boots click on the gray slate flooring. I pause again, thinking that he may have heard me. But he still doesn’t appear. I step down into a spacious living room. The furniture is warm and cozy with a large fireplace in the corner of the room. To my left is the most striking modern-day kitchen I’ve ever seen. Like a cooking show. Top of the line appliances, slick fixtures, and granite counter tops make it look fresh and classy. Does he even cook? I’ll have to find out. As I step farther into the living room, a spectacular view of Navy Pier assaults me through a wall of floor-to-ceiling windows. Whoa. The twinkling lights of the Ferris wheel and the dinner cruise ships mesmerize me. I’m gazing at this captivating view when I hear stomping. Stomping? I determine it’s coming from the hallway to my right and head toward the noise. I halt in the doorway of the second door on the left. Fuck. I believe my jaw has disconnected itself and landed in pieces on the floor.

Jacade is running on a treadmill facing more floor-toceiling windows and a huge flat-screen TV. He’s shirtless and dripping, and I mean dripping, in sweat. He’s wearing running shoes and black basketball shorts, but nothing else. Probably nothing underneath those shorts either. My eyes are drawn to his flexed biceps covered in an array of intricately colored tattoos. I didn’t know he had tattoos. Now that I think about it, every time I’ve seen him, he’s had on a long-sleeved shirt. His right bicep is inked in a gray shadowy grim reaper with vibrant carmine and purple accents. The other bicep is sheathed in an angel with smoky, blue clouds. Life and death. An angry black panther faces me from his place on Jacade’s back. It stretches from his shoulder blades down his spine to his lower back. The panther’s tongue spits fire in orange and red hues and his sharp claws dig into Jacade’s skin. It’s as if the panther is ripping its way out of his back from the inside. Damn, he’s hot. Capital H. Capital O. Capital fucking T. He’s wearing earbuds and his hair is soaked with perspiration, but still stands up in its own spiky way. He doesn’t notice me since it looks like he’s focused on the stock ticker running below the newscaster. I lean on the doorframe and chew on my bottom lip. Dang, the things I want to do to his body. Over and over again. He doesn’t even need to shower. I’ll lick him clean, fuck him till he’s sweaty again, and lick him clean again. I can’t believe this man was eating me out on my desk a few hours ago. I’m not sure how long I stand there gaping in awe at his tantalizing form. But in my book, that’s a great way to lose track of time.

“You do realize I can see you in the windows, right?” I jump as his deep voice rumbles through my ears. The thought never occurred to me that he could see me. I look at his reflection in the window and see him smiling a big, cocky grin. Asshole. He pulls the emergency release on the treadmill and grabs his towel. I notice that his treadmill says 3:28:30. He’s been running for over three hours? He rubs the towel down his face and struts over in my direction. He’s stalking me like I’m dinner and dessert. Which I’m totally fine with. He leans in, all sweaty and smelling like male heaven. “Like what you see?” Finishing with a wink. I’m speechless. His sticky body is a centimeter from mine and all I want to do is pull him to me, or inside of me, and rub him all over my body. He kisses my forehead and whispers, “I’m going to cook you dinner, but first I need a shower. You’re welcome to join me.” He turns and walks down the hallway, throwing the towel over his shoulder. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. I want to join him, but not yet. He makes me feel so horny and anxious at the same time. He does weird-good things to my body. He completely terrifies me. As I think about what his body looks like soaking wet, I decide to go after him. I walk down the hallway and to the door where I hear water running. Slut Ivy tries to give me a pep-talk along the way. Walk in there and say, Invitation accepted, while stripping off your clothes. Jump in the shower and let the fucking commence. Go, Summers. Now!

*** Ivy

I grasp the doorknob to steady myself as I gawk at the master bedroom. A giant, pillowtop, king-sized bed graces the center of the room. The bed is wrapped in luxurious white and charcoal fabrics. The sheets are crisp, white cotton, modern and masculine, yet functional. The duvet and throw pillows are encased in a quilted charcoal silk. The boxed-style bedframe is made of a medium cherrywood with a multi-dimensional black leather headboard. I look around in disbelief. I’m actually standing in hot-ass Dr. Jacade J. Jordan’s bedroom. Where all the magic happens. The walls are a rich burgundy color, but still masculine, probably due to a very expensive interior designer. A large, white shag rug breaks up the deep cherrywood floors. The floor-to-ceiling windows continue into the bedroom, providing an astounding view of Lake Michigan. I can’t even imagine what it would feel like to wake up in his arms while watching the sunrise through those windows. “I waited for you.” I startle and turn my head to see him standing in the bathroom doorway wearing nothing but a plush, gray towel around his waist. The steam is pouring out around him, and he’s drying off his chest and head with a smaller towel of the same color. I gawk as he approaches and stops right in front of me. His hair is impossibly darker when it’s wet. He smells clean and fresh. He places his index finger beneath my chin and lifts it until my eyes meet his. For heaven’s

sake, he’s hot. I clench my thighs together like a vise in a futile attempt to quell my libido. He stares at me and leans in. He smiles as his mouth lingers a hairsbreadth from mine. He whispers, “Ya know, Ivy, you keep catching me half-naked in a towel. Are you trying to tell me something?” He mashes his lips to mine. I resist for a moment, but give in because I have no willpower when it comes to this man. He pushes me toward the king-sized bed until my legs hit the edge. Lawdy lawdy, this is it. He must sense my thoughts, because he breaks the kiss. “This time I’m going to fuck you.” Good lord. His impromptu dirty mouth catches me off guard. No man has ever talked dirty to me before. His nasty mouth makes me wet in less than a second. This is all so new to me since Kevin never spoke to me like this. Do all women react this way? He reaches under my sweater and undoes my dress pants. His fingers brush my hips as he lowers them, igniting my nerve endings. He bends over and plants a gentle kiss on my left hipbone… ah… my right… oh crap. Crouching down, he pulls off my boots and helps me step out of my pants. He slides up the length of my body, makes eye contact, and lifts my sweater over my head. I’m standing before him in only my black panties and bra. He stops and his gaze travels my form. His eyes close and he exhales, as if he’s taking me in. He turns me around to face the bed and holds me forcefully to his chiseled and still-damp body. He trails kisses from behind my left ear to my shoulder and I shiver from his contact. I hear him chuckle. “Just like in the elevator.” He kisses

across my neck to my other shoulder. He pushes his rock solid erection up against my backside. “Do you feel what you do to my cock? God, you’re magnificent.” He slides his right hand across my belly, heading south, but taking his sweet time. His voice rumbles in my ear. “I want to hear your voice, Ivy. Tell me what you want me to do to you. I want to hear it.” I gasp as he slides his fingers down and under the front of my panties, nudging my clit. “Oh god!” My head falls onto his shoulder. With his left hand, he unclasps my bra, slips it down my arms, and tosses it on the floor. He pinches my nipple between his fingers and rubs a slow circle on my clit. I think I’m going to self-combust. “That feels so good.” I moan and thrash my head on his shoulder. He lets out a low growl and whispers, “That’s my girl. I want to hear it,” as he continues pushing on my clit and pinching my nipple. His expert ministrations force me quickly into my first orgasm and a passionate grunt escapes my mouth. If I had to guess, it’s probably not my last grunt of the evening. I breathe heavily. “Oh… my… god.” All the while, he never stops his fingers, drawing out my orgasm even further. Only when I’ve come back down to earth and can stand on my own, does he turn me around to face him. He takes his fingers, still wet from my arousal, and rubs them along my bottom lip. Then runs his tongue across the same spot. Hot damn, that was erotic. He smiles. “You taste so good. I want more.” He pushes me onto the bed and takes off the towel. Finally, I get to see the entire package of this enigmatic

man. His pecs are flat planes of granite, his eight-pack is a jumble of taut, round rocks, and the V leading down to his erection is definitely an arrow pointing me home to the mothership. His angry red cock is standing at attention, pointing at me. My eyes do a double take trying to figure out how that will fit inside of me. It better. Ain’t nobody got time for that! He grabs his cock and strokes it while staring down at me lying before him on the bed. I bite my bottom lip and gaze up at him. His expression changes from playfulness to complete sexual possession. He reaches down and jerks my panties down and off before he climbs onto the bed and hovers over me. “I thought I was going to be able to enjoy the taste of your sweet pussy again, but baby, I need to be inside you right fucking now.” He slams his lips into mine and takes my mouth. He reaches for a pillow and places it under my head. He uses his knees to spread my legs apart and kneels before me. I can see it in his eyes. He’s claiming me. What he doesn’t know is… I’m already his.

CHAPTER 12

Jacade

I stare down at Ivy, glorious Ivy, legs spread, waiting… waiting for me. I lean over her and take her luscious-ass breast in my mouth. Her hands fly to my head and fist my hair. I circle my tongue around her nipple, take a nibble, and suck it into my mouth. With a flick of my tongue, she gasps and her hips come up off the bed, begging for my cock. Christ, I want to fuck her until the end of time. I move and do the same to the other nipple. I can’t play favorites. I love them both equally. When I raise my gaze, I see her watching me suck on her succulent breasts. Holding her stare, I slide my hand down to her pussy and rub my finger from her entrance to her clit, smearing her juices. She arches her back at my finger. Shit, she’s so sensitive and I love it. Wait till it’s my dick. “Let’s see how ready you are for me.” Her pupils dilate and I decide to push two fingers in, instead of one. Her eyes close and she moves her hips to take my fingers in deeper. Fucking yes. If that greedy, tight cunt sucks up my fingers like that, imagine what it’s going to do to my dick. I bend my fingers to hit her G-spot while rubbing her clit with my thumb. Before I know it, she’s shivering and shaking underneath me and I feel her pussy squeezing my fingers as she comes. Hell yeah.

She’s still trembling and quivering beneath me as my voice rumbles out into the darkness. “I need to be inside you.” I crawl up her body and place my forearms on the bed above her shoulders. For a couple of moments, I gawk at this seraphic woman, and I can’t for the life of me figure out why she’s here with me. Especially after what I did today. I don’t deserve her. But I’m sure as hell going to take her. Ivy lifts her head and looks deep into my eyes. She reaches between our bodies and wraps her hand around the shaft of my cock. Her touch makes my mouth drop open, and a delicate grin curls up her face. She knows the effect she has on me. Dammit, I’m a goner. She places the head of my dick at her entrance and rubs it till the tip of my cock slides in a bit. Heaven. I want to push in with everything in me, but… “I need to get a condom, baby.” She tightens her grip on me, and with her other hand, digs her fingernails into my ass cheek, pushing the tip of my dick farther into her. I feel her pussy resist the intrusion. God, she’s so tight. She kisses and nips at my bottom lip. In a low whisper, she says, “I have an IUD. I’ve been tested. All clear. You?” “Yes, me too.” No condom? Thank you to all my fellow physicians who insert these brilliant devices to prevent pregnancy. I owe you all drinks. “You want to hear me? Fuck me, Dr. Jordan. Fuck me hard.” More sublime words have never been spoken. She tilts her hips up until the head of my dick pops right into her hot, wet pussy. Shit. This feels incredible.

“With pleasure, Ms. Summers. With fucking pleasure,” I manage to get out. I lean down to kiss her and push all the way inside her at the same time. I can’t believe how good she feels absorbing the length of my cock. Without a condom, I can feel every inch of the silky wetness of her pussy. I glide in and out deliberately, letting her body accommodate to my size. I rise up and position myself on my knees between her legs. I look down and see my cock all slippery and glistening from her juices. I’ve never had sex without a condom. It feels unreal without the rubbery latex barrier, her hot cunt searing and squeezing me. I push in. “Ahh… you’re so tight, baby. Jesus Christ.” I hear her moan as the head of my dick rubs her G-spot. I know that Ivy moan from earlier. I reach between us and apply pressure to her clit with the pad of my thumb as I pull out, dragging my dick back across her G-spot. Her eyes pop open and look right into mine. Yeah, I thought that might get your attention. Her pussy squeezes my dick again and I think I may pass out. Seriously, I’m going to pass out. My brain shouts into the void, Someone call a doctor! Hold up, I’m a doctor. Fuck, we’re screwed. Enough with the slow. I plunge hard inside her, over and over, while pushing on her clit. Her entire body shakes and her pussy pulses around my dick. That’s it. Game over, folks. Her screams are incoherent. “Oh my god! Oh my—” Yeah, baby, my dick feels good in your pussy, doesn’t it? I can’t take my eyes off her riveting body as her third orgasm rocks through her. As she’s still coming down, I ram into her like it’s the only

thing keeping me breathing. I’m pounding her so hard, her breasts are bouncing and she has to reach up to brace her hands on the headboard to keep her head from hitting it. I mentally pat myself on the back for buying a semi-padded headboard, ‘cause I knew Ivy’s head was going to be banging into it someday. I bring the soles of her feet up onto my shoulders to get deeper inside her. My hands are securely attached to her ass cheeks as I pump my dick inside her luscious pussy. Fuck me. Fucking shit. Without a condom this feels… ah fuck, never mind… I lost my train of thought. I look down at her and meet her eyes. She holds my soul in the palm of her hand and she doesn’t even realize it. I lift one of her feet, kiss the bottom of her arch, and suck delicately on her big toe. I see her eyes broaden. Interesting… she likes that. As I suck on her toe, I shove my cock in so deep my groin is smashing into her clit over and over. I try to repress my orgasm. She tilts her hips up and squeezes me tight at the same moment I push into her one last time. I’m done for. I throw my head back and let out a primal groan as my orgasm blasts through me. I keep pumping into her. I don’t want this to end. Want to get every last drop into her. *** Ivy

I feel his entire body crash down onto mine. His breathing is heavy. He doesn’t say anything, so I lie back and admire him. He’s all hot, sweaty, and sticky. From thrusting deep into me. Sexiest thing ever.

I run my fingers through his hair as I catch my breath. He’s still inside me and his left cheek is lying right over my heart, or my breast, depending on whom you ask. I’m going with the heart. I can’t believe he was able to perform to that caliber after running for so long earlier. I guess he’s a long distance runner in more ways than one. Three orgasms in a matter of like, thirty minutes. That has never happened to me. In fact, I usually never come from intercourse, and he’s just proven it can be done. Over, over, and over again. As I’m stroking his sweaty hair, his breathing evens out. He collapsed from pure exhaustion, while still inside me, and fell into a deep slumber. I wore him out. *** Jacade

I open my eyes and realize that I’m lying on top of Ivy and she’s pinned underneath me. Fuck! I hope I didn’t crush her. I lift my head and see she’s sleeping peacefully. Thank god. She’s still completely naked beneath me and utterly enchanting. I wore her out. Fuck, I’m hard again and I’m still inside her. I look over at the clock and see it’s two in the morning. Wow, I never sleep more than two hours in a row. We didn’t even eat dinner, and I was going to cook for her. We fucked ourselves into oblivion. That’s awesome. And I’m going to continue fucking her in the morning. I lay my head on her cushy breast and push my hips to bury my dick even farther into her. She’s mine. Mine.

I wrap my arms around her and drift off to sleep. I haven’t slept this well in over three years. *** Jacade

The early sunlight casts a warm glow across Ivy’s face as I dress. I brush her chestnut hair from her eyes and press my lips to her forehead. As I’m pulling away, her hand clasps mine and her lips turn up in a sweet smile. Ahh, my sleeping beauty.

CHAPTER 13

Ivy

My uneven rock bounces off the pavement and lands inside a chalked box. I hop on one wiggly leg, trying desperately not to step on number eight. The wind swirls like a tornado and plasters a maple leaf to my forehead. I giggle as it warms my flesh. I peel the smooth texture from my skin and whip it into the air. The smell of bacon and coffee wakes me from my dream. Mmm, that smells good and tasty. I roll over expecting to feel the massive heating blanket I had lying next to me all night, but the bed is cold. Nothing but expensive sheets and the smell of sex, mixed with bacon and coffee. I open my eyes and sit up to look around. I’m still in Jacade’s bed, but he’s nowhere to be found. Ahh, he must be making me breakfast. I gather the sheet around my body and head for the kitchen. I pad across the hardwood floors toward the glorious aromas, glancing at the fantastic Lake Michigan views as I pass by. The sun is casting a stunning morning glow as it bounces off the rippling water. I round the corner to the kitchen and say in my most bouncy Southern accent, “Hey, hot stuff! Whatcha cook —” I stumble at the sight of an older woman standing in his kitchen. I almost slip on the sheet as I skid into the kitchen island. That would be wonderful, trip and fall bare-ass naked in front of whoever-this-is. Please don’t let this be his mother…

She turns her head over her shoulder, looks me straight in the eyes, and smiles. This is a good sign. I don’t think his mother would be smiling at a sheet-covered, thoroughly fucked, naked woman standing in her son’s kitchen. But hey, that’s only my opinion. With a kind face, she says, “Ms. Summers, good morning. Dr. Jordan had to leave early. He told me to cook you anything you wanted for breakfast. Are eggs and bacon okay?” Her light-brown hair is pulled into a ponytail at the nape of her neck. She’s dressed casually in jeans and a blue button-down shirt with a white apron covering her front. She looks like the type that would make a massive amount of baked goods to bring over to the neighborhood block party. I turn beet red and open my mouth to say something, but nothing comes out. She smiles and says, “Pardon me, I must have forgotten my manners. My name is Sheryl. I’m Dr. Jordan’s cook and housekeeper.” That makes sense. At least it’s not his mother. I owe some type of deity a drink for cutting me a break on this one. I grip the sheet tighter around my body and say, “I’m… Ivy.” I try to smile and not think about the fact that I’m naked and standing in a sheet. Like really naked. She smiles and turns toward the stove. Wow, she really is taking pity on me this morning. Thank you, Sheryl. “I’m gonna go get cleaned up.” I grip the sheet even tighter, scamper to the bedroom, and lean against the bedroom door. This would only happen to me. So embarrassing. I called his housekeeper hot stuff.

Wait a minute. She seemed way too cool and comfortable speaking to me standing in that sheet. How many other women has she done the same thing with? Shit. Does he do this all the time? Am I another one of his girls? Fear and doubt creep into my thoughts little by little, and the next thing I know, I’m in flight mode. I expeditiously gather my clothes from around his bedroom. On his pillow, I see a note written on a prescription pad. What is it with him and writing notes on his prescription pads? Doesn’t he know those are expensive? The frustrated office manager in me sighs, because now I know why I’ll be finding extra money in our future budgets for prescription pads. I walk over and pick it up.

Okay, first off… memorable? What the hell does that mean? Secondly, I don’t have to explain anything to you. Especially not this ugly scar. Commence flight mode! I throw his hurtful words down onto our sexified sheets and throw on my clothes from last night. I reach for my phone and call a cab to pick me up around the side of the building. I’d fully expect for Shane to be waiting for me downstairs. Not today, Mr. McCormick. I pull my hair up in a messy bun and take a deep breath.

Now I’ve got to sneak past Sheryl. I hate to do that to her. She was nothing but kind and welcoming to me. I open his bedroom door and tiptoe toward the kitchen. I peek around the corner and see Sheryl flipping bacon. I make a run for it, reach the elevator door, and stab the down button. I think I might have made it, but as the doors are closing, I’m pretty sure I hear Sheryl call my name. In the elevator, I lean my head on the cold wall. This has been the craziest couple of days. What the fuck was I thinking sleeping with a man I just met? Ah, and I’m in an elevator again, which makes me think of him touching me and hissing in my ear. Damn him! *** Ivy

Once I’m in my apartment, I feel like I’m safe. I’m not sure what it is, but I feel like I can lock the rest of the world out and be by myself. I notice the glow of a lamp coming from my living room. That’s strange. I don’t remember leaving any lights on. As I’m about to round the corner to investigate the lamp phenomenon, I feel a strong arm grab my waist and a scaly rough hand cover my mouth. I struggle and kick, but this bastard is too strong. Remembering my self-defense classes, I lean forward and bite his palm as hard as I can. I hear a loud “You bitch!” in my ear. I know I got him good, ‘cause I can taste his blood. I lift my leg up and swing it right into his groin. That did the trick, because he releases me and falls to the floor. As fast as I can, I sprint toward my front door.

I scream, “Hel—” but my voice is muffled by another hand clamping over my mouth. While I struggle, he shouts into my left ear. “Stop it, Vee.” That blood-curdling voice. That motherfucking voice that could make any human being’s skin crawl. I stop struggling. I knew he would come for me someday. I knew it was Viktor. *** Jacade

Tap-tap-tap. Tap-tap-tap. “Jacade, stop tapping your pen on the table, please. It’s driving me crazy.” I look up to see Helen staring at me from across the conference room table. I didn’t even know I was doing it. I’m nervous as hell. I glance at my phone again for the time and realize Ivy is an hour late for our board meeting. What the hell? I look at Helen. “Have you spoken to her this morning?” I try to seem only concerned, and not as worried as I am. Shane said she wasn’t in the penthouse. Sheryl said she’d spoken to her this morning, but then she was gone. She couldn’t have just disappeared. Find my woman, people. Now. Helen cuts into my thoughts. “As I’ve already told you three other times, no I haven’t.” You don’t have to be a bitch about it, Helen. I’m beyond worried and even though Shane is out hunting for her, he has yet to contact me. The last time I saw her, she was asleep and naked in my bed. Elegantly naked in my bed. It took everything I had

in me to leave her this morning. I had to meet with Clyde to prepare for the fight tonight. The fight that both sides of the council crafted, but my side says I’ve got to win. Plus, I really don’t want to find out what happens if I lose. Where the hell is she? Tap-tap-tap. Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap. Screw you, Helen. I’m going nuts over here. *** Ivy

Sitting in my armchair opposite Viktor and his cronies, I can see why I thought I was in love with him once. His long, blond hair is pulled back into a ponytail. He has striking hazel eyes and a strong, manly jawline. He has broad shoulders and long, muscular legs. He’s attractive. Like a magnet. But once you get stuck to him, you see it. His insides are dead, cold metal. I smile to myself as I watch Jim, Crony number one, bandaging his hand. That’ll teach him. What did he think was gonna happen? That I was going to be okay with a stranger grabbing me from behind in my own apartment? I’m so focused on mentally insulting Jim, I jump when Viktor finally speaks to me. “That smile across your face suggests you enjoyed hurting Jim.” Asshole. No, you’re the one who likes, or should I say loves, hurting people. Not me. I was protecting myself from some odd bastard that broke into my apartment. I sit up straighter in my chair and glare at him. “No, Viktor, that would be you.” I return his stare without blinking. I can’t believe I was once engaged to this man. In my defense, I was young and senseless and didn’t

know any better. He laughs with a sinister smile. “Still as smart mouthed as ever, Vee.” I stiffen even more and cross my arms over my chest. I glare at him. “Viktor, let’s cut to the chase. Why are you here?” His cocky smile is fixed in place. “Vee, come on… you mean I’m not allowed to see how my ex-fiancée is doing?” Ugh, he infuriates me! He’s not here to see how I’m doing. He wants something. He always does. I hold my own and don’t break our glaring contest. “No, you aren’t. Nor will you ever be, welcome. What do you want?” Whatever he wants, it’s not something I want to know or be a part of. I briefly think about calling the police, but since most of them are probably on his payroll, that would not turn out well for me. “Vee, you’re right. There is something I want.” I knew it. He always wants something, or someone. It’s in his genetic makeup. I raise my eyebrows to entice him to explain, but he doesn’t. Dickwad. He snaps his fingers and Crony number two, Larry… Lyle… something like that, walks over to me. He holds out a sealed, brown envelope. I hesitate taking it from him, but it won’t do me any good. I knew this day would come. I owe Viktor one more favor. I set the envelope on my lap and look up at him, waiting for him to continue. “Inside that envelope, you’ll find your target. I want to know everything, Vee. No fucking around. Family, friends, lovers, ex-girlfriends. Every goddamn thing.” His face is intense and unwavering.

I grin. “You do know I’m not a secret agent, right?” Let’s see if he’s in a joking mood or not. Sometimes Viktor likes to play with his food, like a shark taking little bites out of his prey before devouring it. The shark is circling, circling… and by the look on Viktor’s face, I’m gonna go with not in a joking mood. After what seems like hours, he finally speaks. “I want to know when and where he sleeps, takes a piss, everything. That’s it, Vee. We’re square.” He laces his fingers together, flexes, and cracks his knuckles. I hate that sound. I hate him. I shift in my chair. “So you want information on”—I pick up the envelope and hold it in front of me—“whatever is in here?” He chuckles and replies with a firm, “Yes.” Hmm, there has to be more to it. This is Viktor we’re talking about. He once took candy from a baby. No, really, I watched him do it. I laugh. “And how am I supposed to do that?” He smirks at me. “Well, if I remember correctly, which I always do, you were pretty amazing at all the jobs you ever gave me. Sorry, I mean, did for me.” He’s an awful human being. Asshole. His stupid innuendo irritates me. “We’re done after this?” I want to make sure I hear him say it. “Yes, we’re done.” He stands and his cronies walk toward my front door. As he passes in front of me, he stops and places his hands on either side of my armchair. I’m gonna have to burn this chair, and I liked this chair.

He traps me and leans in close to my face. “As divine as ever, Vee. It was good to see you.” He stops at the door. “Hey, Vee. Just so you know, the walk of shame does nothing for you, sweetheart.” The door clicks shut. Such a dickwad! What the hell did I ever see in him? My heart is beating at a hummingbird’s pace. Viktor and his cronies were not in my apartment. That was real, Summers, and you have the envelope to prove it. The envelope. This is it. My last IOU to him. I can do this. I have no choice. I rip the top of the envelope off and reach inside. I pull out a large, black-and-white photo of a man getting into a sports car. My breathing stops and my stomach drops out all at once. I know that car. I know that man. Oh crap. It’s Jacade.

CHAPTER 14

Ivy

I push through the office door and all I can think about is the amount of shit I’ve gotten myself into. I mean, really who meets a sex god, sleeps with him, and the very next morning has their ex-fiancé/gangster/devil show up to collect a debt you owe him? Umm, no one. That only happens to me. I’m glad I decided on business comfortable for my attire today. I’m not feeling very sexy after my meeting with Viktor… but who would? I chose my relaxed, khaki dress pants paired with a pale-pink blouse. I didn’t even feel like wearing heels, but instead wore my white ballet flats. Maybe something is wrong with me? I take a deep fortifying breath. I’m blowing it out when I walk right into a cement wall with steel pecs. I stumble backwards and two strong hands grab me by the waist and pull me close. That smell. That grip. My lady parts immediately stand at attention. Aw shit, his smell. I can’t help but look him up and down. He’s wearing a pair of black, straight-leg dress slacks with a black belt and shoes to match. His dress shirt is a forest green that sets off his olive skin tone. Who taught him how to dress so well? “Where the hell have you been?” Wow. He’s riled… but not yelling.

I look up and see the intense rage seeping out of his eyes. His voice is low, rough, and gritty. His lips are still lovely, but pressed in a thin line, waiting for my response. I pause, because after being engaged to the devil, I learned to stop and choose my words very, very wisely. Staring at him, I’m puzzled by his anger. He left me in bed. He didn’t want me this morning. He got what he wanted. So why is he mad at me? I should be mad at him. What a dick! I use a gentle but firm voice. “I went home to get ready for work.” There, that should do it. Simple response and it explains where I was. He doesn’t need to know Viktor showed up at my apartment this morning and terrified me. That can stay buried. Forever and ever. He sighs and bolsters his grip on my hipbones. What the hell did I do to make him so angry? He used me! Okay, I kinda used him too, but that’s not the point. I woke up alone with a note that was less than memorable. He has no right to act this angry toward me for going home to shower and change. At least that’s what he thinks I did. Even if it was because I was embarrassed and wasn’t sure how long I should’ve stayed the morning after the best sex of my life. He grits his teeth. “Ivy, I’m not in the mood to play games. Where the fuck were you this morning?” Crap, he’s furious. I didn’t do anything wrong! I study his face and see worry lines appear on his forehead. Maybe he was worried about me? “Like I said, I went home to shower and change before work. That’s all.” I smile and shrug to lighten the mood between us. This is ridiculous. I don’t owe him an

explanation. I’m a free and independent woman. Technically, he owes me an explanation as to why Viktor wants information on him. He leans in and I can feel his warm breath on my face. Instantly, my legs turn into gelatin. He brushes a piece of my crazy brown hair off my cheek and glares into my eyes. “I told you last night, you’re mine. That means I want to know where and what you’re doing. At all times.” Um, he wasn’t being serious. Was he? I thought he said that in a sort of I want to fuck you so I will say anything kind of way. Men will say anything when sex is on the table. Sex on the table with Jacade. Sign me up. “I’m not playing games.” I keep it simple in the face of his anger. He doesn’t retreat, but leans into me farther. He flexes his fingers into my lower back. “You missed our board meeting this morning.” He has a death grip on me. “I totally forgot it was this morning.” I try to act aloof, but I’m pretty sure he’s not buying it. He grabs my wrist and pulls me behind him into my, I mean his, office. He slams the door behind us and turns to me. He walks straight toward me, the predator stalking his prey. Him the lion, me the gazelle. He gets close and slides his hands into my hair. His lips gently graze over mine, and as I lean in for more, he pulls back and grins. Cocky bastard. It seems that all men are that way today… or every day. Finally, he takes full control of my mouth. He slips his tongue in and out and nips my bottom lip. He’s kissing me like it’s his last breath. The memory of last night rushes through my body like a shock wave. He releases our lip lock and leans his forehead on mine.

We’re both breathing heavily. Man, he knows how to kiss. Plus, how to make me orgasm numerous times in one amazing sex-scapade. With his eyes closed, he whispers, “I was terrified something happened to you.” I’m speechless. His anger was because he was scared I was in trouble? Which I was, but he never needs to know that. I whisper, “It’s okay. I’m here.” Our breathing steadily evens out. However, his death grip doesn’t. *** Jacade

She’s here. I’m touching her. My fingertips to her silky skin. Flesh to flesh. She’s okay. Still as stunning as ever. My girl. I’m good. *** Ivy

I scrunch my eyes closed and rub my index and middle fingers on my temples. The one good thing about my new office is it’s far away from the majority of office noise. All I want is some peace and quiet. I need to concentrate. Thank goodness for Uncle Bernie’s intrusion because it gave me time to peel Jacade’s fingers from my hips. Circling my temples counterclockwise, I think about the look in Jacade’s eyes moments ago. Concern, wrath, heat… contempt. What the hell? We met two freaking days ago. We’ve spent one night together, and he’s going all Tom Cruise-y on me. Part of me is okay with it because he’s hot as hell when

he’s heated. But something is off. He was acting as if he thought I was in danger. Even though I was, there’s no possible way he could’ve known that… right? I sigh and slump in my leather chair. The last time I was in this chair like this Jacade and I played our little game, and he worked me over with his thrusting tongue. Crap, I can’t think about that. Let’s think about Viktor and his ludicrous debt. That will definitely dry my panties up. Yep, look at that. Dry. Screw you, Viktor. *** Ivy

Viktor’s presence this morning draws my thoughts to the day we met. I was eighteen years old with no parents, no money, and nowhere to go. I was huddled underneath a coffee shop awning, my knees pulled into my chest, bracing for the rain. I pulled my hood over my eyes and hung my head to cry. I cried until my lungs burned. Next thing I knew, a handsome boy about my age was squatting down in front of me. I was scared at first, until he reached his hand out and grabbed mine. Without asking, he steered me straight into the coffee shop and bought me a hot chocolate and a doughnut. We sat in complete silence for over an hour. He stared at me while I sipped my hot chocolate and ate my doughnut. Finally, he spoke to me. His voice was high-pitched, so I knew he had to be about my age. “Name’s Viktor. What’s yours?” He spun a pink sugar packet nervously around the table with his finger. I didn’t want to speak to him, but I felt he deserved it after

buying me a hot chocolate and a doughnut. I had some manners. I cleared my throat and timidly murmured, “It’s Ivy.” I sipped my hot chocolate, so I could avoid elaborating any further. But he didn’t ask me any more questions. He sat there, and when I finished my drink, he went to get another one for me. As the coffee shop was closing, he stood up, grabbed my hand, and walked me to the door. He never let go of my hand. Viktor led me down the quiet and rainy Chicago street. At one point he stopped and stared into my eyes. He leaned in and whispered in my ear. “I’ve been where you are. I want to take you to my house so you can shower and sleep, nothing more. There’s no reason to be scared of me.” He searched my eyes for an answer. I was young, scared, and had nowhere else to go. I had to trust him. He smiled as the rain fell down from his blond hair and dripped into his eyes. “I have to do something first. After, we can go to my house.” I nodded again. What other choice did I have? He made a brisk turn on his heels, but held my hand in a tight grip. I wasn’t sure who he was or where he was taking me, but I wanted to remember how to get back. So twenty blocks later, which I counted, we crossed the street, and he led me to the passenger-side door of a sleek, yellow Corvette. I remember thinking there was no way this could be his car. He’d said that he’d been like me. So how could he have a car like this? He walked around to the driver’s side and muttered across the roof, “We have to hurry. Get in as quick as you can.”

I was still processing his words when he slid a slim jim down into the door and popped the lock. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. He was stealing this car. The alarm went off and he jumped in the car. The alarm cut off immediately. He stared at me through the passengerside window while he crossed the wires and started the car. “Well, are you gonna get in or what?” His voice was magnified with panic and urgency. I didn’t know what to do. So I jumped in and we sped off.

CHAPTER 15

Jacade

I need to talk to Ivy. Bernard came strolling down the hallway right as I was going to try and get some answers out of her. Shane told me he watched Viktor and his derelict sidekicks leave her apartment this morning. Why didn’t she tell me? She’s probably scared and confused and trying to pull away from me. That, I will never let happen. Walking toward her office, I try to figure out what to say to her. I have to remember that even though I’ve waited many years for her, she’s only known me a few days. The only way to make her mine is to stop playing games, like that ridiculous stunt I pulled with Amber in the SUV. I need to gain her trust honestly. So it’s time to turn on the charm, Jacade-style. I open the door a fraction and peek into her office. She’s slumped in her leather chair with her eyes closed. I can see frown lines across her forehead. She’s stressed. About what? Viktor? I’ll fucking kill him. Or me? Probably both of us. The thought of Viktor causing Ivy worry makes me want to skin him alive. My blood boils as I watch her face contort into different emotions. Every time her eyes tense and her lips twitch, I become angrier. She’s too gorgeous to look like that. Ever. That’s it. Time to pay Viktor a little visit of my own, Tripstyle. Jacade-style will have to wait.

I quietly close her office door and head straight toward exam room one, where Bernard is with a patient. I knock twice and pause. He peeks his head out and excuses himself. Once in the hallway, he and I stare at each other until I finally speak. “I’m going to go pay him a little visit.” I cross my arms and plant my feet, ready for my verbal lashing. Bernard’s on the council and will not like this one bit. I know this is going to cause problems, but we also have to stand our ground. Plus, Bernard knows Viktor needs to pay for trying to kill her. Has Bernard forgotten what he did? I sure haven’t and never will. He needs to fucking pay. I’ve waited long enough. Bernard glares at me. “No, you aren’t. End of conversation.” He turns and walks back to the exam room. “Yes, I am. You may be too much of a coward to protect Ivy, but I’m not. I’m the one who saved her life in that operating room. Not you. Me!” He doesn’t say anything or turn around. He knows I’m right. “And let me refresh your memory, Bernard. You told me to stand down that day too. And if I’d listened to you, I’d never have found Ivy. So screw you and the fucking council.” Take that, old man! Bernard whips around and stalks toward me. I don’t stop him. Let him have this play. He fists my shirt and pushes me up against the wall. He tries to stare me down. When he speaks, he spits in my face, punctuating every word. “You. Do. Not. Go. Anywhere. Got it?” His eyes are cold and unkind. He’s too loyal to that dumbass council. They’d sell him out in a heartbeat. Fucking moron.

I lean in and whisper, “No, I don’t get it, old man. Get your hands off me.” I break free of his hold and straighten my shirt. “I’m going whether—” “Uncle Bernie, what are you doing?” Ivy is standing in the middle of the hallway, files scattered at her feet. I can’t imagine what she’s seeing. Her ‘sweet’ Uncle Bernie threatening me in the hallway. When really, it’s me threatening him. Bernard and I are still as statues. Fuck. How much did she hear? *** Ivy

I bend and collect the mess of files at my feet. I’ve never seen Uncle Bernie this upset before. His knuckles were white from gripping Jacade’s collar so tight. Really, what did he think he could do to Jacade? The man is a Goliath, for god’s sake! Clutching the files to my chest, I walk between them. “Both of you, come with me.” I storm past them and into Uncle Bernie’s office. Uncle Bernie and Jacade follow me in and shut the door. Jacade plants his feet and crosses his burly arms over his chest like he always does. Uncle Bernie leans on the front of his desk. They look at me like I’m the crazy one. What the hell? I stand between them. “What the heck happened out there?” I bend my knee and put my hands on my hips. I’m the high school principal reprimanding two teenage boys for fighting in the hall. A month of detention for each

of you! No answer. They’re in some sort of silent staring contest. I take a deep breath. “Anytime, fellas. We aren’t leaving this room until one of you talks.” The principal is definitely not in the mood for any crap today. I can only handle one immature boy per day, and Viktor took that spot already. Uncle Bernie clears his throat, and when I think he’s going to speak, Jacade pipes up. “I’m sorry, Ivy. We had a little bit of a physicians’ disagreement that got out of hand. We apologize.” Even though he’s speaking to me, his eyes never leave Uncle Bernie’s. Got out of hand? Yeah, right. These two looked like caged animals about to tear each other limb from limb. Not buying it, Jacade. Nice try though. I cross my arms over my chest, mimicking his pose, and turn toward him. I challenge his answer with disdain. “A physicians’ disagreement, huh? A physicians’ disagreement that led to one physician placing his hands on the other? In the middle of the office? With patients in the waiting room?” My voice rises marginally, but not because I’m angry. I’m really not angry. I’m hurt. This was much more than a physicians’ disagreement. I’m hurt neither of them feel obligated to let me in on their problem. What the hell is going on around here anyway? Aunt Helen is lying to me and these two are going at it in the hallway? I turn to my left and address Uncle Bernie. “Do you have anything to say?” Well, okay, that did sound angry. I’m getting cranky, because they’re acting like children. Feminist Ivy looks from Jacade to Uncle Bernie, then her watch, while tapping her foot.

Silence. I throw my hands up in the air. “Fine. If you want to act like children, I can’t stop you. Go ahead! Rip each other apart for all I care. But do it behind a closed door.” Uncle Bernie walks toward me and rubs my bicep. “I’m sorry, Ivy. We won’t let it happen again.” He can tell I’m not buying the words he’s selling, so he gives up and heads to the door. He turns to me from the doorway. “I have to go finish up with my patient. We can talk about this later.” You can bet on it, Uncle Bernie! Without saying a word, Jacade turns and walks out. Oh no you don’t, mister! You need to answer to this principal. *** Jacade

I reach my desk and turn to see Ivy staring at me with her arms crossed. Damn, she’s sexy as all get out when she’s fuming. I’d love to bend her over my desk and fuck her hard for speaking to me like that. I’d smack her ass for every sarcastic little word she said to me in there. Her ass cheeks would get so red and she’d look so damn sumptuous from behind… and I’m hard. Before either of us speaks, Helen appears from behind Ivy in the doorway. “Jacade, I put Mrs. Fairfield in exam room two. Sorry, I didn’t know you two were—um—talking.” The lines in her forehead scrunch as she spits out the last couple of words.

If Helen had it her way, I’d be as far away from Ivy for as long as we both shall live. Sorry, not a chance. She’s mine. I snatch my stethoscope off my desk and stalk toward the door. Ivy sidesteps and plants herself in front of me. She really needs to learn when to challenge my temper and when to pipe down. This would be a great time to pipe down. She looks me square in the eye. “Where do you think you’re going? We need to talk.” Say what now? Wow. She has some fucking balls, I must give her that. I’m somewhat taken aback since I’ve never had, nor allowed, a woman to speak to me in that tone. I grind my teeth and glare at her. “We’ll talk about this when I’m good and ready. End of discussion.” I walk around her and stride down the hall to my annoying-ass patient. Crazy-ass woman. *** Ivy

Silly fucking men and their egos! When he’s good and ready? Whatever. I’m so livid, I feel like trashing his office. I won’t, because I’m not that kind of woman. However, I’m the kind of woman who will wait right here until he returns. He’s going to give me some goddamn answers. I wander over to his desk and sink into the cold leather chair. The coolness feels like paradise on my fuming body. To calm my temper, I take a deep breath and exhale slowly. It doesn’t work.

I spin in his chair and hit my knee on the top desk drawer. Ouch! Shoot, that’s going to leave a bruise, and not a good one. I lean over to rub my knee and a small, yellow note in the partially open top drawer catches my eye. It must be important since it’s placed on top of all his other papers. Staring at the note, my first thought is, At least it isn’t written on an expensive prescription pad. My second thought is, Read the note, Summers! That’s invading his privacy, and I don’t want to do that. We need trust in our relationship, or whatever this thing is between us. However, this would be a good time to get more information for Viktor, if I decide to follow through on my debt. Especially since Jacade won’t give me any answers. Still contemplating my choices, Feminist Ivy looks down her nose at me over her book, which is titled, The Note We Took from Jacade’s Office. I guess that’s her opinion on the matter. I pull the drawer farther and rubberneck a little in order to read the note. Written on it is today’s date and what looks to be an address. That’s it? I check around to make sure no one is looking before I take out my phone and capture a picture of the note. Just in case I may need this info in the future. A girl can’t be too careful.

CHAPTER 16

Jacade

I sit on the rolling stool, not listening to Mrs. Fairfield, trophy wife number four hundred. She’s one of the handful who come in for routine plastic surgery. Yeah, you heard that right. Routine plastic surgery. My favorite part is when they bitch about how their boobs would be, and I quote, Much perkier, if it wasn’t for those dang kids my husband wanted, end quote. Mrs. Fairfield is no different. I pretend to be writing notes, occasionally adding nods as she speaks to me about her perfect cup size. Jesus, woman. I don’t give a rat’s ass about your tits. Ivy is steaming mad at me. I’m furious with her. And I desperately want and need to go punish that smart mouth of hers. I don’t have time for this. Just tell me what size you want and I’ll shove ‘em in and charge your husband an insane amount of money. Thank you and don’t come again. All right, I’ve had enough. It’s time to shut her up because I can’t take it anymore. I clear my throat and go into mechanical doctor mode. “Okay, Mrs. Fairfield, I’m going to begin my routine examination on you.” Which basically means shut up about your bratty kids, saggy-ass tits, and rich husband, who, by the way, is stepping out on you anyway. So zip it! As I’m checking her lymph nodes, I space out and rack

my brain about Ivy. Why didn’t she tell me about Viktor? And why the fuck was he in her apartment the morning after she spent the night fucking me? Great, now I’m even more pissed. I stick my stethoscope in my ears and listen to Mrs. Fairfield’s heartbeat, still thinking about Ivy. Thump-thump. Thump-thump. Thump-thump. She could have, and should have, told me. This isn’t good. This means Ivy doesn’t trust me. Trust and loyalty are must-haves, in my opinion. My whole life is about my future with Ivy. Everything I’ve done until this very moment is because of her. Thump-thump. Thump-thump. The sound of Mrs. Fairfield’s heartbeat reminds me of last night with Ivy. Waking to see her still underneath me, naked, relaxed… peaceful. The sound of her heartbeat humming me to sleep. My anger surfaces again. She still should’ve told me. Plus, she needs to remember who she’s talking to when she opens that smart mouth. No one tells me what I’m going to do. I really should spank her ass to teach her a lesson. But I can’t. She’s not ready for that. Yet. Still in my own thoughts, I notice that Mrs. Fairfield is frowning at me. I pull my stethoscope out of my ears. “Dr. Jordan, are you even listening to me?” Nope, not at all. So be my guest and please continue. I smile kindly. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Fairfield. I was focusing on your exam.” Not really, but she can believe that. I don’t want to touch this woman any more than necessary. She straightens a little and bats her eyelashes at me.

“Well, what I said was… are you seeing anyone special?” What? Seriously, lady? I throw my stethoscope around my neck and lean against the counter. “I’m flattered, Mrs. Fairfield. But yes, I’m seeing someone special.” Very special. She purses her lips and jumps off the exam table. She must not get turned down very often. What is it with me pissing off women today? She opens the door. “I’ll make my surgery appointment up front. Thank you, Dr. Jordan. Good day.” In a huff, she stomps down the hallway toward Helen. I smile at her. “You too, Mrs. Fairfield.” Maybe the universe is off kilter, because all the women around me seem to be crazy today. Okay, time to handle headstrong Ivy. I turn to walk out of the exam room and a flash of brightblue catches my attention. A tourniquet. Normally, a tourniquet is used to restrict blood flow, but today it’s going to be used for something much more fun and sinister. I lean over the counter and grab the tourniquet from the shelf. I stretch the elastic band and twist it tight around my hands and wrists. It leaves a lovely red mark. On my way out the door, I grab a latex glove from the box on the wall. I stuff my medical ‘equipment’ in my pants pocket and stroll to my office. I whisper to myself, “These will do just fine.” *** Ivy

As I sit in Jacade’s office chair, I can’t help but think about Aunt Helen’s lie, the confrontation between Uncle Bernie and Jacade, and this bizarre sticky note I found. Well, I guess I didn’t find it, but that’s a minor detail. They must be connected somehow… I’m lost in my own thoughts, trying to connect the dots, when I feel it. My body tenses and a surge of energy flows through me, leaving trails of goosebumps over my skin. I know without looking up. He’s staring at me. I lift my gaze and see Jacade come through the door. He closes it and locks it behind him. It’s never good when someone locks a door. That isn’t entirely true. It’s always good for me when he locks a door. Jacade keeps his intense blue eyes on me as he strolls to the front of my, I mean his, desk. I can tell he’s not happy with me and possibly pretty angry. If I had to guess, it’s due to my outburst earlier, but those two boys deserved to be put in their places. His stare is fucking dangerous… lethal. It burns through my every pore. He leans over and tents his fingers on the desk. He methodically taps his right index finger while his eyes pull me under his spell. He snarls, “Stand up.” Yep, he’s still pissed. I push myself up and out of the chair like a snake has bitten me on my ass. What the hell is wrong with me? I obeyed him without a second thought? He puts his hands in his pockets and stares directly into my eyes. “Clothes. Off.” I falter as I undress. I’m not sure why. I know I want this. But is this how he deals with his anger?

He raises his eyebrows, and I know that look. It’s Jacade’s now or never, sweetheart look. Before I know it, I’m standing naked in front of this man who is completely in control of me. Mind and body, heart and soul. His cocky grin appears as his eyes focus on my tits. I see his tongue dart out to wet his lips as his eyes leave my breasts and travel the length of my body. I look down, ashamed to be bare-ass naked standing in front of a man that looks like him. I don’t understand what he sees in me. He could have anyone he wants. Women that look like Amber. Especially a woman without stretchmarks and an ugly scar. His baritone voice grits out, “Eyes on me. Now.” I raise my head and peek up at him. He’s got a punitive look in his eyes and his jaw is set. His ebony five o’clock shadow an angry mask. I’ve never seen him this way, but I kind of love it. Shh, don’t tell anyone. He continues in an exasperated tone. “And Ivy, if I have to tell you that one more fucking time, you won’t like my response.” For heaven’s sake. I know I’m not supposed to like this side of him, but I’m so wet. His low, commanding voice rings in my ears. “Walk to the bathroom.” Warm spikes travel down my core, igniting flames from my belly to my nipples to my clit. That voice is a mixture of safety and familiarity. Familiarity? I walk to the bathroom. “Get on your knees, facing me.” Immediately, I do what I’m told. The softness of the shag rug hits my knees. I remember picking this rug out, and

never in a million years would I have thought I’d be doing this on it. Looking up at him while on my knees, his immense power and dominance engulf the space. I keep my eyes on him as he undresses in front of me. He unbuttons his shirt, exposing his abs, and slides it down over his broad, muscular shoulders. My my, those tattoos… I’m gonna need another cleanup in Ivy’s aisle one! Bring a mop, please! He reaches down and unbuttons his dress pants and slowly slides the zipper down. Without taking his pants off, he reaches in his black boxer briefs and pulls his thick erection out into the wild. Its bright purple head evidence of the thrill he receives from seeing me on my knees. He stares directly into my eyes, and his tone is surprisingly soft. “Ivy, cashmere. Okay?” Huh? Yes. I nod. Got it, Jacade. “Open your mouth.” My jaw drops open and he feeds his hard cock right into it. I hear a sharp intake of breath as I suck the tip for the first time. After a little tease, I slide my mouth down the length of his rigid shaft. I flatten and press firmly with my tongue as I slide my mouth back up and suck the tip again. Thank god I’m loving this because it would be kinda difficult to say cashmere with his dick stuffed in my mouth. I wrap my hand around the base of his shaft. It’s wet with my saliva. I reach up with my other hand and massage his balls. He’s staring down at me with hooded eyes. “Fuck me,” he

whispers. I let his cock slip out of my mouth and press my lips against the head in a kiss. I could easily say cashmere, but no way in hell is that word passing my lips. I look up at him, open my mouth around the head, and sink down on him. I move my hands along his hips and around to his ass, digging my fingernails into his skin along the way. I grab his ass cheeks and push him deeper into my mouth. His cock fills my throat, and I fight my gag reflex. I swallow and my throat constricts around his cock. “Jesus Christ, Ivy.” He reaches down and grabs me under my arms. He pulls me up and his cock slips out of my mouth with a pop. He sets me on my feet in front of him. He’s looking at me like I’m his last meal before execution. His voice is scratchy. “Get in the shower.” I do as I’m told and step into the shower, turning to face him. He steps closer to me and I focus on his shimmering blue eyes. I feel the same silky material as before cover my eyes. His fingers tie the knot to my blindfold snug behind my head, pushing my face into his gorilla-like chest. His clean manly scent drifts into my nostrils. Just like in my new office… “Put your arms up, crossing your wrists.” I do as requested. Frankly, I’d do anything he asked me to do at the moment. Want me to skin a cat? Sure, no problem. Want me to jump off the roof of a building? Sure, no problem. I’m startled when I feel something cool and rubbery wrap around my wrists. He ties them securely to what I can only assume is the top of the shower door.

Then nothing. I can’t see or hear him. He must be standing there admiring his handy dandy work. *** Jacade

Holy hell, she’s bewitching. I could stand here all day looking at her completely naked, blindfolded, and tied up in my shower. What the fuck was I mad about again? My dick is aching to come out and frolic inside her playground. I’ve already tried to explain to him several times before, anticipation is one of the most rewarding games one can play. He just doesn’t care. I lean around her in the shower, allowing myself to get a good look at her sumptuous ass, and turn the water on. I test it, and when I’m satisfied with the cool temperature, I point it so it hits the tops of her ankles. I gaze at her some more and skim my fingers down her flushed cheekbone. Her lips part, and she scrunches her delectably crooked nose. Pay attention, Jordan! I shake my head to get my mind focused on my plan for her. Okay, let’s work this out, Ivy. I head to the medicine cabinet and pull out my bottle of peppermint mouthwash. I take off the rest of my clothes and stand within centimeters of her body. I slide the tip of my hard dick up against her pussy, purposefully pressing on her clit. Her mouth drops open and she moans. Fuck yeah, that was gorgeous. I whisper, “See, Ivy, when you’re a good girl and do what I tell you to do, I’ll reward you as such.”

I pour some mouthwash into my mouth and place my free hand on her lower back. Using my hand to keep her in place, I push the tip of my dick a little harder onto her clit. I angle my head down and wrap my mouth around her right breast, coating her nipple and areola with mouthwash. I move to her other nipple and give it the same treatment. I swallow the remaining mouthwash and blow on her tit. Just the right amount of air to cause the peppermint to tingle across her nipples. Her breath catches. “Ah…” I remove the tip of my dick from her clit, much to his and her dismay, and take another sip of mouthwash. I kneel between her thighs and slide my mouthwash-covered tongue all the way from her entrance to her clit. I grin when I see her shiver. I blow on her pussy to enhance the sensation on her pink, wet flesh. I rise and lean into her. “Good?” I watch her tongue dart out to wet her lips. Let’s see how far I can push her. I reach for the latex glove I brought from the exam room. I lower my lips and suck her nipple into my mouth again, tasting the sweet peppermint. I raise my head to remind her, “We’re at work. No screaming.” I stretch the latex glove tight, release it, and it hits her directly in the center of her nipple. She tenses, biting down on her bottom lip while pulling on the tourniquet that has her tussled to the top of the shower. I laugh to myself. Honey, this isn’t my first rodeo. You’re so not getting out of those restraints. I slide my tongue around her throbbing nipple. I suck it into my mouth, allowing the coolness to ease the sting. As I move to torture her other nipple, because they both need to be taught a lesson, I hear a faint knock on my

office door. I lift my head and hear another knock. Ivy must have heard it as well, because she anxiously whispers, “Shit!” I keep my voice firm to calm her. “I’ll be right back. Don’t move. I’m not done with you yet.” I leave the bathroom and grab my clothes. Once I’m sufficiently dressed, I crack the door open and see Helen standing there. Dammit, Helen. I was in the middle of something very important. She speaks urgently and tries to look beyond me inside the office. “Jacade, is Ivy with you? I wanted to take her out to lunch, but I can’t find her.” At the end of her sentence, she holds up a tan file folder with the words Council Meeting ASAP written on it in pen. Fuck. What now? I nod to let her know I read the words. “No, I haven’t seen her. I think she went out to get some air. I’ll be out after I take a shower.” Let’s see if she buys it. She nods and walks away. I don’t think she bought it, but I’ll take it, because I need to go finish up with Ivy in the shower. I close and lock the door again. Undressing as I enter the bathroom, I hear Ivy frantically mumbling, “Who was that? Did someone hear us? I hope no one heard us.” I walk over to her and place my index finger over her lips. “Quiet.” Once I see she’s collected herself, I fill her in. “That was Helen, and she wants you to go to lunch with her. That means this is going to have to be fast and hard. So hang

on tight.” Even though I want to thrust into her, I have to suck on her nipples first. Christ, I love her breasts. I bend over to suck her left nipple. As I move to her other nipple, I decide I want to hear her. “Tell me these are my tits.” Gasping for air, she utters, “They’re yours… oh my—” I bite down on her right nipple. “Don’t make me clarify myself again, Ivy. What are mine?” “Ahh! These are your tits.” I smile as my tongue dances around her areola. I praise her with, “That’s right, baby,” between lapping at her nipple. I move my hand down to her cunt and continue my vicious taunting. I slide my index and middle fingers inside her and ask, “Whose tight pussy is this?” “Yours— I mean, my pussy is yours.” Good girl. She corrected herself. She’s learning. I reward her for good behavior with three fingers and a thumb on her clit. “Ahh! Jacade!” “Hush.” I pull my fingers out of her and position myself in front of her. I pick her up by her hips and she wraps her legs around me. I guide my cock inside of her until I’m seated all the way in. “Fuck,” I hear Ivy grit out between her teeth. Yeah, I agree. She’s so wet, warm, and tight. I dig my fingernails into her hips and slowly pull out. That’s it. No more time for slow. I pump my dick into her mercilessly. Her breasts bounce up and down in my face, making me

even stiffer, if it’s remotely possible. Fuck, I need to keep her with me, because I’m not going to last much longer. I press the pad of my thumb on her clit. “Come, baby.” Her head drops back and I keep thrusting, her tight pussy gripping my cock. So tight. She lets out a gasp and I feel the muscles of her pussy contracting around my dick. I stroke her clit again to prolong her orgasm, but I’m about to finish myself. Fuck yeah. I watch her breasts jiggle as I thrust even harder and faster. My orgasm festers and rises from my core. It passes through me like a strong gust of wind, choking me from the inside. My cock pulses and twitches and I release all my tension, anger, and lust inside her. I keep pumping into her until my dick starts to soften. I pull out and see my seed ooze out and drip down her inner thighs. Marking my territory. Mesmerizing. Still holding onto her hip with one hand, I reach up, and undo the tourniquet. Her limp arms fall around my neck without hesitation. I keep her securely wrapped around me, turn the water a bit warmer, and sit down on the shower seat with her stretched across on my lap. I pull her close and she cuddles her head into my chest. She lets out a little breath as she trails her fingertips over my pecs and down my stomach. I massage her wrists and hold her hands close to my chest.

Fuck me. *** Ivy

Half an hour later, I’m sitting outside Grand Bistro with a goofy grin on my face. All I can think about is Jacade… peppermint mouthwash… the shower… I rub my fingertips over the faint pink marks on my wrists. Who would have guessed I’d be into this? Slut Ivy holds up her hand. Of course. But, really, his domination over me was so thrilling, and it felt so automatic to obey him. I loved the warmth that enveloped my body the entire time. And he’s so fucking sexy when he’s angry. I pull my sleeves down to cover the marks as Aunt Helen approaches with our food. I move our water glasses out of the way, and she sets our plates down. “Sorry, honey, I saw an old friend inside I haven’t seen in ages.” “I was hoping you hadn’t forgotten about me. I’m starving.” Who wouldn’t be after being devoured by Dr. Jordan? She sits and smiles. “Well, good.” She places her cotton napkin on her lap. The sunlight shines on her face, and I can see how the years have aged her features. It pains me to think of her getting older. It took me so long to find her, and I want to keep her with me forever. The smell of roasted bacon pulls me from my thoughts. I pick up my sandwich and take a juicy bite. Good god, this is a tasty BLT. I can’t even remember the last time I had an appetite. Maybe before Kevin? Kevin used to criticize my eating

habits. I recall him saying once, “Remember, you didn’t lose weight to gain it back in one sitting.” Asshole. When I think about it now, I still can’t believe he said those words to me. More importantly, I can’t believe I let him. As I’m about to take another bite, my eyes lock on Aunt Helen’s. Why the hell is she looking at me like that? Do I have mayonnaise on my chin or something? She looks like someone just ran over a dog right in front of her. Her smile and carefree attitude have completely left the building, without a sign in the window to tell you when they’ll be returning. I lower my sandwich. “What’s wrong?” What does that expression mean? Fear? Irritation? Sadness? She places her elbows on the table, and the glass top to rocks to one side. She stares at me and in a gentle voice, asks, “When did it first happen?” I’m really puzzled. When did what first happen? I scrunch my eyebrows together, place my sandwich onto my plate, and wipe my mouth with my napkin. After taking a quick sip of my water I say, “When did what first happen?” I know I’m slow sometimes, but I really missed something here. What is she talking about? Was I too involved in my BLT? Maybe I was, because it’s pretty damn delicious. She lowers her head. Is she laughing at me? When she looks up, her face is serious and concerned. “Ivy, please don’t be coy. I can see the red marks on your wrists. When did it start?” Shit. Shit. Shit. She must have seen the marks when I raised my sandwich to my mouth and my sleeves rolled back. I was

too involved in my BLT to notice they were visible. I’m not really sure how to approach this conversation with Aunt Helen. She’s obviously asking because she’s concerned… Which means either A, she’s had, or does have, a sexual relationship in the same manner with my Uncle Bernie, which I don’t want to know about. Or B, she’s concerned because I’m having one with Jacade. Maybe if I act embarrassed, she’ll let it go. Probably not, but it’s worth a try. “Aunt Helen, do we really have to discuss this at lunch? Here?” Her eyebrows narrow and she leans in toward me. “No, we don’t, Ivy. But we will later. So it’s either here or at the office in front of your uncle and your lover.” I can’t believe she said lover. Is it 1950? Aunt Helen has never been so blunt before. Where did this woman come from? I lean in my chair and say, as kindly as I can, “Okay, Aunt Helen, say what you have to say.” “I’m only going to say this once, and then we can drop it and go on with our lunch.” She clears her throat. “Jacade is a gorgeous man and one hell of a plastic surgeon. But his life hasn’t been easy… and it never will be.” I chuckle. “No one’s life is easy. If I was looking for that in a man, I might as well become a lesbian, Aunt Helen.” She doesn’t laugh. Cue the crickets chirping. She shakes her head. “Ivy, I know you think I’m being ridiculous. But trust me, I know what I’m talking about here. Men like Jacade will consume you, conquer you… and ultimately, crush your soul.” True story. But if it’s anything like earlier, I’m good with it. Feminist Ivy is wearing a T-shirt that says, GO, AUNT

HELEN! and is cheering in the bleachers. Traitor. Where is Slut Ivy when I need her? “Why? What do you know?” I ask her. Her face shuts down and it’s clear she’s not going to tell me anything. I feel a pinch of anger, but quickly remember that Aunt Helen is probably acting out of kindness. I decide to be respectful. I love her and owe her that. “Aunt Helen. I understand why you’re concerned and I appreciate it. I really do. You and Uncle Bernie are the only people who have ever cared about me, and for me. I don’t know Jacade but I’ve got my eyes open, and I’m being cautious. I promise you I’ll be careful. I need you to trust me on this one.” I plead to her with my eyes. She reaches over and squeezes my hand. Her smile seems a bit forced, but she nods. We eat our food in awkward silence. This BLT isn’t so appetizing anymore.

CHAPTER 17

Jacade

I hate waiting on these morons. Only half the members are present. They call a fucking ASAP council meeting on a Wednesday morning and take their sweet-ass time getting there. This day sucks. Except Ivy… her sucking was outstanding. Bernard is to my right. To my left, the rest of the seats for our side of the council remain vacant. The chairs on the opposite side of the boat-shaped conference table are empty, except for a couple of our rival council members from the other territory. I despise these fucking meetings. I know he’ll be here. I’m going to have to sit in the same room with Viktor the entire time without slitting his throat and holding his head up high for all the council members to see. You mess with Ivy, you mess with me, asshole. Why the fuck is Viktor using Ivy to get information about me? I’ll figure out what his game is. Even if I have to torture him myself, which I’d gladly do. Thank fuck Shane found out why Viktor went to pay Ivy a visit. The visit she has yet to tell me about. I’ll have to deal with her later. What worries me is Ivy accepted, or at the very least considered, Viktor’s scheme. She feels guilty for his help when she was a runaway, and he’s using her to get to me. Which, in retrospect, is a pretty genius idea, because Ivy is my Achilles heel. “When they get here, you don’t say a fucking word. Got

it?” Bernard’s voice pierces my thoughts. Who the hell does this man think he is? He must be getting senile in his old age. I chuckle at him and say, “Go fuck yourself, Bernard,” with a smile. The rest of the council members trickle in and take their seats. Even with my head bowed I know the second Viktor walks through the door. My gaze latches onto his as he walks to the end of the table and sits directly across from me. I never once take my eyes from his. He smirks at me and nods as if to say, What’s up, man? My eyes remain locked to his. My mouth slides into a lopsided grin as I flip him off. I loathe this bastard. Judge Conroy stands on our side and clears his throat to alert us it’s time to plunge into our meeting. He’s a short, stocky man with gray hair who probably never gets laid, unless it’s an escort or, in layman’s terms, a hooker. Which I know to be the case, because he really likes Amber. “I guess you’re all wondering why this meeting was called on such short notice. Well, we have a few items to discuss. First off, Monday night Viktor’s car was stolen with a hostage in the trunk. We have confirmation that the person who stole it has been dealt with.” He angles his head toward me as he says dealt with. “Do we all agree the debt is settled?” Heads nod and I hear some grumbling, but no one speaks up. Thank god. That means I’m not killing any more people this week. Unless it’s Viktor. “Good. It’s important we agree, gentlemen. I’ve also received reports that your”—he emphasizes the word your while looking at the men on the other side of the

table—“crews infringed on our territory last night. I felt this needed to be cleared up as soon as possible to stem any further violence. We don’t want to start a battle for territory over this.” While Judge Conroy is speaking, Viktor and I never break our staring contest. In my peripheral vision, I can see Viktor’s compatriots discussing this new information. The man to the right of Viktor leans over and whispers something in his ear. Viktor nods, but his eyes never leave mine. A detective from their side speaks up. “On behalf of our council members, I’d like to extend our apologies. It seems these reports are true, and it was a mistake on our part. Specifically, on the part of Viktor.” I chuckle to myself. Are the council members that dense? Do they not see this was methodical? Viktor sent his crews into our territory to retaliate. Just like he did what he did with Ivy to get to me. “Okay then, it’s settled. Correct this infraction immediately and we’ll discuss your fine later.” Their side nods in agreement. Yeah, right. Settled, my ass. He’s not going to let this go. Anything to provoke me. “Now, let’s discuss the details for tonight.” I’m so ready for tonight’s brawl between Viktor and me. They never let me fight him when we were both on the circuit because he was so much smaller than me. But the council is sick of this shit and felt it was time for me to face Viktor. I definitely have no complaints. I’ve been waiting to get him in the cage for years. Viktor and I are still glaring at each other when Judge Conroy addresses the two of us. “Can you two stop this pissing contest for one second to acknowledge the rules

for your fight tonight?” Even with his voice raised, the judge still sounds squeaky. Viktor glares at me from across the table and says, “The rules are… there are no rules. No refs, no breaks…” I continue, “The fight is over once the other is deemed incapacitated. Or Viktor is dead.” Suck on that, asswipe. Bernard nudges my foot underneath the table. Shut up, old man. Judge Conroy continues, “Yes, gentlemen. Although we’re hoping no one dies, you both need to be aware of the possibility. We’ll have physicians there to determine if, and when, the fight is over. There are to be no women present this evening. This means no wives, girlfriends, mistresses, or whores at this fight tonight, fellas.” After the Judge’s last statement, Viktor smirks at me. “Did you hear that Trip-Trip-Trippy? No whores. So leave Ivy at home.” Holy fuck. All I see is red. The red is Viktor’s blood dripping down the curtains of the conference room and pooling at the bottoms of my feet. Still wanting to climb over the table and pull his jugular out with my bare teeth, I decide instead to hit him with an even greater insult. I smile back at him and chuckle. “I heard, Viktor. But just so you know, Ivy is not a whore. Your sister, however…” Take that, douchebag. Viktor’s smirk fades and he grinds his teeth. I can barely hear Judge Conroy in the background. “Enough!” Even his attempt to sound powerful comes off as whiny. Neither one of us is listening to him anyway. Viktor sneers and he spits out, “Fine, motherfucker, bring it tonight.” He opens his arms wide as if to say he would

fight me right here and now. I’m game. Let’s do this, asshole. Viktor foolishly adds, “Oh, and remember, whenever she sucks or rides your dick… I was there first.” That’s fucking it! I push out of my chair, but before I know it, Bernard has climbed over our side of the table. He drives his right fist into Viktor’s jaw, grabs his neck and slams him down onto the table, pinning him in place. He angles in close to Viktor’s ear. “You listen here, dickhead. The next time you even speak her name, it will be your fucking last. I’ll find you and cut your tongue out with a really dull scalpel. Then I’ll stand back, watch you bleed, and spit on your cold, dead, pathetic, little body.” He releases Viktor and storms out of the conference room, slamming his hands into the swinging doors. Everyone in the room, including myself, is standing and staring at the door Bernard burst through. I’ve never seen Bernard go ballistic. He’s usually telling me to calm down and take a breather. I walk over and stand directly in front of Viktor, leaning my fingers on the table. He’s wiping the blood trickling down his jaw when I activate my death stare. “Tonight, asshole.” I turn and walk out of the conference room. Bernard lost it… finally. Viktor needed and deserved it. Actually, he deserved to fucking die. No one talks about Ivy that way. I was blinded by rage, but Bernard was already acting. Truth be told, I couldn’t have threatened Viktor any better myself.

*** Jacade

I follow Bernard into our private elevator and hit the button for the eleventh floor. Neither one of us has spoken about what happened. He focuses directly forward as he speaks. “Don’t say a word of this to either of them.” The elevator dings and we exit. Inside the office, Helen is gesturing frantically while talking on the phone. It’s not until I’m closer, do I see the worry on her face. With concern in his eyes, Bernard asks, “What’s wrong, Helen?” She turns to us and breaks out in tears. Bernard rushes toward her and wraps his arms around her. Without waiting for her answer, I ask, “Where’s Ivy?” She lifts her head and looks at me. “We went to lunch and—I’m not sure what happened—but she walked off.” My stomach drops to the floor. I feel like someone has taken a melon baller and pieced out my insides to make a fruit salad. Did Viktor get to her? Helen continues her blabbing. “I called everyone I could think of who might know where she went. I called Bryn, but got her voicemail.” My voice is strained. “What do you mean she walked off?” I pull out my phone and send Ivy a couple of texts to see if she’ll respond. But she doesn’t, she’s too stubborn. Or she can’t… Shit! Helen lowers her head again into Bernard’s chest. Bernard give me a stern look.

“I’m on it.” I’ll find her. I dial Shane while jogging into my office. He picks up immediately. “You got eyes on her?” I’m not sure why I even have to ask. After the last time she got away from him when she left my place, he’ll never let his guard down again. “Yes, sir. She’s sitting on a bench by the lake.” I stick my head out of my office and look at Bernard, who is still comforting Helen. “Got her!” Helen looks up. “Thank goodness!” I walk into my office and grab my stuff for the fight tonight. My plan is to head straight out the door to get Ivy. I turn and see Bernard closing my office door behind him. With his hands in his pockets, he asks, “Where are you going?” His tone is actually gentle compared to his normal voice for me. What a stupid fucking question. “Where do you think I’m going? I’m going to get Ivy.” I move toward the door, but Bernard reaches out and places a hand on my chest to stop me. “Listen, I practically raised Ivy. Take my advice. Give her this afternoon to think.” Is he nuts? So many thoughts could cross her mind, not involving me. “Jacade, I’m being serious. Stay here. I’m not saying to pull Shane off of her, but give her a little space.” His tone and demeanor seem sincere. If it were my choice, I’d go to Ivy and not think about anything else. But he’s right. I have to consider Ivy’s feelings. She walked off because she needed some space.

I spin and whip my bag across the room. It hits the wall with a thunk and slides down. I plop down in my chair, as Bernard exits and closes the door behind him. *** Ivy

I’m not sure how long I’ve been walking. The cool fall breeze wafts off Lake Michigan as I walk around the path. Since I left Aunt Helen at Grand Bistro, I put one designer shoe in front of the other and walked. I left feeling emotionally drained and confused. Aunt Helen really threw me for a loop. The good thing is I love walking along this path. I get to watch the blue waves break on the beach, which always seems to help me clear my head. After a very quiet and awkward lunch, I walked away from Aunt Helen without telling her where I was going. I didn’t know where I was going or what to say. I needed to be alone. Of course, this prompted multiple text messages from Jacade about half an hour later. J: where r u? Then another one. J: Shane is coming to get you. I powered down my phone. I needed time to absorb the crush your soul warning from Aunt Helen. So here I sit, looking at the picture of the sticky note I snapped earlier. Do I trust Jacade even though he won’t tell me anything about him? Or do I go to the address and try to find out information for myself? And why won’t Aunt Helen tell me what she knows?

Jacade seems like he cares about me. When he’s not being an asshole. And haven’t I always wished for a man to completely consume me, body and soul? But why does Viktor want information on him? I’m so conflicted. I sit on a bench and gaze out over the cresting waves. The same bench I slept on many nights long ago. I can’t believe how my life has changed. Or how it’s changed this week. I’m not sure what I’m going to do about Jacade. Do I try to find this address tonight? Or stay home and pray I’m wrong?

CHAPTER 18

Ivy

I stand in front of my mirror and run my fingers through my unruly hair. I can’t believe I’m about to do this. Monday morning, I stood in front of this very same mirror fretting about returning to work. Now, Wednesday night, I’m getting ready to walk into a potentially dangerous situation completely blind. I know this is insane. I could get shot, stabbed, or who knows what. But I’ve been through worse. Nothing could be worse than my foster home nightmares and escaping from that. I zip up my black hoodie and pull the bottom down over my jeans. I slip my feet into my black gym shoes and grab my keys, wallet, and phone. From what I can tell on the map, I only have to take two trains and walk a block until I’ll be standing right in front of this mysterious address. I leave my living room light on and exit my back door. I noticed Shane earlier, while I was at the lake. I’m not surprised, given the type of man Jacade is. In fact, it wouldn’t surprise me if Shane gives Jacade a blow by blow of all my actions… She threw something in the garbage… She’s stretching her arms. What they need to remember is I dated, and was engaged to, Viktor. I know how to lose someone if I need to, including Shane. I lift my hood and tighten it around my face. I lock up and

sneak down the stairs. I can’t believe I’m doing this. I’m an idiot. It doesn’t matter what my mind thinks, my heart and feet are in charge. *** Jacade

All I hear is “Invincible” by Adelitas Way pulsing through my ears. I bounce on the balls of my feet, bending my left arm in front of me and pushing on my elbow to stretch my shoulder. I do the same with my right shoulder. I shadowbox, pretending to see Viktor’s head snapping back and his blood gushing out of every single one of his orifices, trickling down the stretched black tape around my knuckles and wrists. I take a quick drink of water and put the bottle in my bag along with my already powered-down phone. We don’t want this place tracked. I zip my bag and continue picturing my attack on Viktor. I wish I could’ve seen Ivy today. Helen wouldn’t tell me what they discussed, and I hate to admit it, but Bernard was right. If she needed time, I had to give her time, even if I didn’t want to. No more games. I need to be real with Ivy and respect her wishes, which is proving to be extremely challenging for me. I close my eyes and drop my head to stretch my neck. My mind wanders to how delectable Ivy looked in the elevator… and underneath me… and tied up in my shower.

Fuck. I need to concentrate on tonight. I crank up the volume and envision my fists hammering Viktor in the gut, the face. I’m indestructible tonight. I’m gonna kill the prick. He’s never met this fucking Jacade before. *** Ivy

I stand outside the fence of a rusty, abandoned warehouse. The windows are boarded up and pitch-dark. I squeeze through a small opening in the fence and head toward what looks like a backdoor entrance to a loading dock. The door creaks when I open it, and I crouch behind a tall stack of wooden pallets. Nothing happens. Either no one is here, or they didn’t hear the door. I tiptoe and squeeze through the door. I venture down a half-lit hallway, looking for anything that might explain this place. I must be demented for doing this. Who knows what or who is in here waiting for me? I stop in my tracks and almost turn around to go home. Almost. I hear voices. Voices? I creep down the hallway toward the grumbling din. I try to think about what I’m going to do if I get caught. I probably should’ve had a plan B before I put plan A into motion. I move toward the noise, and as I turn a corner, I see light coming from a room. The door is cracked open, so I peek in. Several men wearing business suits mill around in a

huge storage room, maybe from some type of manufacturing company. Industrial piping weaves in and out of the ceiling and the floor is cracked concrete. Random stacks of cardboard boxes litter the space, as if the employees stopped working and left the building forgotten. The fluorescent lights reflect off the diamond chrome chain of a giant octagonal cage in the middle of the room. This is the type of cage you don’t get out of. Or only one person gets out of. The crowd quiets when two robed men climb into the cage and the door swings shut behind them. I need to get a better view. I sneak in and squat down behind a stack of boxes, trying and failing, to remain calm. I’m close enough to see and hear what’s going on. In the crowd, I see a few men I recognize. One man, Judge Conroy, was at my graduation party. Okay, this is strange. What the hell is going on in here? An older man appears from another entrance and shakes hands with Judge Conroy. Uncle Bernie. My god! Does Aunt Helen know about this? As I’m trying to collect my thoughts, one of the boxers lowers the hood of his crimson-red robe, strips it off, and throws it into the corner. Viktor! What is Viktor doing here? The other boxer is much bigger than Viktor and takes his time revealing himself. Come on… come on… Finally, he drops his midnight black hood and pulls off his robe. It’s Jacade. His shiny black boxing shorts hang low on his hips. His chest is glistening with sweat and he’s bouncing on the balls of his toes. He’s ready to fight.

To murder. I think I may throw up. Wait, Jacade and Viktor are fighting each other? In a cage? Is this why Viktor wanted information on him? My mind is racing with these bizarre questions. Yep, I’m going to vomit. I close my eyes and swallow to keep down the bile rising in my esophagus. “Gentlemen! Gentlemen!” I open my eyes to see Judge Conroy pull himself up on the outside of the cage, looping his fingers in the lattice. His plump feet balance his stocky frame on the edge. He looks between Jacade and Viktor, but speaks loud enough for attendees to hear. “Let’s go over the rules for this fight again. No refs, no breaks, no points, and no tap-outs.” This is idiotic. They’re going to kill each other. Judge Conroy continues, “The fight is deemed over when one of you is incapacitated. Every physician present tonight must agree on the winner. Do you both understand the rules?” Viktor and Jacade give a curt nod. Judge Conroy nods his head at each of them. “Do you also understand it’s a real possibility one of you may not come out of this cage alive?” What on earth? Oh my god. Oh my god. Oh my god! Breathe, Ivy. Breathe. In through your nostrils, out through your mouth. And repeat. They nod again. “Let’s begin.” Another man helps Judge Conroy down from the side of the cage, but all I can see are two men circling each other like territorial sharks. I hear a voice I know all too well scream, “Fucking kill him, Jordan!” It can’t be my sweet Uncle Bernie’s voice…

but it is. *** Jacade

I tap fists with Viktor and back away. I want to watch what this asshole can do before I throw my first punch. We bob around each other until I hear Judge Conroy yell, “Anytime, gentlemen! We don’t have all night!” Let’s see how good his right hook is. Before I can attack, Viktor lunges and lands a flurry of punches to my sides. His arms are out, so I nail him with a quick uppercut, and he stumbles backwards. That all you got, asshole? His guard is down. Moron. I smile as I charge at him. I land a hard, quick left-right combo straight to his jaw. He shakes his head and leans on the cage. He bends over, trying to catch his breath. This is too easy. I channel all my energy to my torso, bend down, and slam him up with my shoulder. We both let out a grunt and his head ricochets against the cage. I press my right forearm on his windpipe and push. And push some more. His eyes bulge out and he gasps for air. He attempts to jab my ribs again, but he doesn’t have much power without air in his lungs. I lean in close and growl, “Ivy isn’t a whore.” I drive my left fist into his lower back by his kidneys. I know exactly where to strike him to kill him. Viktor’s knee rams straight into my groin. Fuck! I stumble and groan in agony. Fucking cocksucker! My vision is fuzzy, but I keep my eyes on him and my guard up as I feint around him. In my fog of intense pain,

I think I see Ivy in the room watching the fight. Which is impossible, so I shake my head and focus. Viktor leans on the cage, laughing and panting for air while spitting out blood. He has blood oozing out of his nose and mouth, but he’s laughing. He’s one fucked up bastard. He spits blood again and looks at me with a red stained grin. “Ya know”—gasp—“my blood doesn’t taste nearly as good”—gasp, gasp—“as Ivy’s did after I popped her cherry”—cough—“and licked her clean.” You son of a bitch! I charge at him again, wrap my forearms around his waist, and slam him onto the ground. I straddle him, pin his biceps down with my knees, and land blow after blow. His face is my punching bag, and I pour everything I have into my fists. I watch as his face bounces from one side to the other with every precise hit I deliver. His blood is spraying everywhere. I want to kill him. I’m going to kill him. Good fucking bye, Viktor! Bernard and a few other men attempt to pull me off him. They must have opened the cage door at some point during my attack on Viktor’s face. Despite their efforts, I manage to lunge for him and get a few more hits in. Judge Conroy’s screams penetrate my red fury. “Jordan! That’s enough! It’s over!” Finally, four of my council members pin me down on the floor and the physicians assess Viktor. The last physician council member announces, “Viktor is still alive, but barely. He’s obviously unable to continue. Jordan wins.” The room erupts in cheers and men pat my shoulders.

Wait! They pulled me off him before I could kill him. Murder him with my fists. No one talks about Ivy. No one. I rear up, pushing all four men off me, and dive for Viktor’s limp body. Before anyone can react, I kick with powerful force, directly into Viktor’s stomach and kidney. Die, motherfucker. I’m tackled again and wrestled back to the ground. Bernard grabs me by my hair. “Enough, Jacade! It’s over!” I roll my head to the side to look at Viktor’s body, praying I killed him. His eyes are swollen closed, and he’s lifeless. Please be dead. Please be dead. As I’m looking for any signs of life in him, I think I see Ivy peeking around a large stack of cardboard boxes. I lift my head, the best I can with several men pinning me to the ground. Maybe my anger is making me hallucinate, because I swear I saw her. I lay my head down and stare at the fluorescent lights high above me. I forget to blink and small circles littered with every color in the light spectrum fill my vision. The adrenaline is still pulsing through my veins as I count to ten and attempt to control my breathing. I turn my head to see if he’s dead— Crash! I lift my head again and follow the eyes of every other council member. Ivy is fumbling around like a fish out of water in a giant mess of cardboard boxes. Everyone freezes as she struggles to get up. She slips again as she takes off in a mad dash. Pushing the men off me becomes much easier since Ivy provided a nice distraction. I jump down from the cage and follow her.

I have to get to her first. They won’t find her smart mouth as endearing as I do.

CHAPTER 19

Ivy

Shit! Do I go left or right? Left or right? Come on, Summers, think. Screw it. I’m going left. I turn left down a dark hallway and run as fast as I can. My shoes echo with every step. I hear chaos erupting behind me, but I’m too afraid to stop and turn around. Who am I kidding? I wasn’t supposed to see what happened in there, which means I won’t live to see anything happen ever again. Shit, shit, shit! What was I thinking? The hallway dead-ends at a stairway entrance. I have no choice but to open the door. The stairs crumble as I negotiate the creepy passageway. See, this is why I hate haunted houses and scary movies. I bust through the door at the bottom of the stairs. I see dirt… and lots of cars. The parking lot. Phew! I sprint toward the cars, kicking up gravel as I run. This is like when I used to shoplift food as a teenager and I’d have to run from the angry manager. But I’m no spring chicken anymore. I make it to the cars and stop to look for an escape route. My lungs are burning from running so hard. I hear someone shouting behind me, and I drop to the ground like a rock. Gravel cuts into my palms. I hear urgent voices getting closer, barking commands. I roll underneath the nearest car and hold my breath. My heart

is a jackhammer in my chest. If they find me, they’ll kill me. Uncle Bernie can’t stop them. Jacade can’t stop them. Men like this don’t care or reason with individuals who weren’t supposed to see certain things. They act first. No questions later. Because you’re dead! Footsteps crunch next to the car, and black boots pause directly by my head. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. The boots take off running in the opposite direction, and I almost cry in relief. I have to get out of here. I peek my head out from underneath the car and, when I’m certain it’s all clear, I crawl out. I’m covered in gray dust from rolling around on the ground. Keeping low, I rub my palms together, attempting to dislodge some of the stinging gravel from my hands. I lift the handle of the car closest to me. Shit, locked. I try three more vehicles until finally, on my fourth try, the passenger-side door snaps open. Praise the lord! I climb over into the driver’s seat and the horse on the steering wheel tells me I’m in a Ford Mustang. A quick check of the shiny red leather interior tells me it’s probably a newer model. I can’t hot-wire this car. I bang my fists on the steering wheel, and next thing I know, a key falls from above, straight into my lap. Who leaves a key in their car? Especially a Mustang… Who cares? I push in the clutch and turn the ignition, saying a silent prayer. The engine hums to life. I shift into reverse, and… Shit! I’m completely blocked in. Screw it. Sorry, pretty new Mustang. I ram into the car parked behind me. The

noise from the crash is deafening and my head thrashes around. All that, and the car behind me only moved a foot. Dammit! I hit it again, bracing for the impact this time. On my third try, I’m able to maneuver out from behind the other car. As I pull away, I realize the noise from the crashes has alerted the men to my location. Including Jacade. In my rearview mirror, I see him sprinting toward me in his boxing shorts. As I peel out of the parking lot, I catch a blurred glimpse of the back end of his Ferrari skidding and dirt flying everywhere as he bursts out after me. Jacade has a leg up on me because I don’t know this area. I’m making left and right turns down side streets I don’t know. I’m speeding down alleyways in a car I’ve never driven before. I merge onto the expressway and shift gears until I hit one hundred miles per hour. The green Ferrari is still hot on my tail, but it looks like no one else is following me. I’m not sure why I’m running from him. Shouldn’t I be running to him? Aunt Helen’s words are ringing in my ears. Men like Jacade will ultimately crush your soul. I can’t go to my apartment, because the rest of the men will be expecting me to go there. For the second time in my life, I’ve got nowhere to go. The thought terrifies me, and I make a rash move to exit the expressway. Jacade follows me, smooth and stealthy. Makes me wonder if he knows how to boost cars. It wouldn’t surprise me, considering what I just witnessed. I blow through the red light at the bottom of the exit ramp. Dammit, he followed me.

I pull into an abandoned gas station and jump out of the car without turning it off. The gravel hits my ankles as I walk to the front of the hood. I want to be in the headlights in case my body needs to be identified later. Jacade pulls up behind me and skids his car to a stop. He jumps out, wearing only his boxing shorts and gym shoes. He still has black tape on his hands, stained with Viktor’s blood. His nostrils flare and he glares at me as he huffs out air. Sweet baby Jesus, is he hot. I tell myself, Don’t look at his sinewy biceps. Don’t look at his rippling abs. And for sure, don’t look at the V pointing down to never-never land. Too late. I looked and now I can’t stop. I’m hypnotized by the happy trail. *** Jacade

I’m not sure what I’m going to do about this situation. I approach the car Ivy stole… and shout, “Have you lost your goddamn mind!” I open the driver’s-side door of the Mustang and pull the key out of the ignition. Wait a minute… a key? How the fuck did she get a key? Then it hits me. The only car that would have a key in it is a car no one would ever dare to steal. My eyes scan the interior of the car. On the floor behind the passenger seat is a black duffel bag. I slide the zipper down and wince at the contents. Fucking fantastic. Naturally she’d steal a council member’s car… from the other territory… with drugs and money in the backseat. Of fucking course she would.

I step back out of the car and lean my left forearm on the door and my other on the roof. Out of pure frustration, I look up at the sky and ask the universe, “Why can’t anyone look inside a car before they fucking steal it?” Just wondering. Someone give me an answer. Ivy is a deer in the headlights. She’s frightened of me. Why? I’m not angry with her for coming to the fight, stealing a drug dealer’s car, or initiating a high-speed chase with a ton of drugs and money in the backseat. Though, I probably should be. In fact, I’m pretty damn impressed and turned on she stole a car and almost out drove me. That’s hot as hell. I’m mad that she ran from me. Big time. Like spank her ass three shades from Sunday pissed. I exhale and look at her. She’s lit up in the headlights like she was caught trying to escape from Alcatraz. “Ivy, answer me this. Do you think it’s wise to steal a car with”—I angle my head to look in the back seat and act like I’m counting—“let’s just say a shitload of drugs and money and drive it down the expressway at over a hundred miles per hour?” She lowers her eyes. Yeah, I didn’t think so. I put my hands on my hips and stare at the car. I shake my head and laugh. “Yeah, baby, not smart. Not smart at all.” I peek up at her and ask, “Where’s your phone?” She points to the passenger seat. I reach in and grab her phone. I drop it on the ground and crunch it to pieces with my gym shoe. Ivy’s jaw opens like she’s going to say something, but doesn’t. Yeah, I wouldn’t. I fish my phone out of my pocket and dial Shane. As usual, he picks up in one ring. I keep my eyes on Ivy. “Yeah, I’ve got her.”

I look around for street signs to give him our location. When I see the street signs, I run my hand through my hair. She pulled off on an exit outside our territory. Man, she’s batting a thousand tonight. I slam the door of the Mustang shut, stride over to my car, and retrieve my pistol from the glove box. As I’m heading back toward her, I balance my phone on my shoulder and slide my gun in my waistband. “I’ll lock the car, but I’m getting us out of here. Pick up the car and get it fixed before you return it.” I end the call, drop my phone on the ground, and slam my foot into it. As I lock the doors, I notice Ivy still hasn’t moved an inch. I lean my forearms on the roof of the car and force my voice to be calm. “Look Ivy, I know you’re probably confused and afraid, but we need to get the hell out of here and fast. Especially after what I did to Viktor tonight. We need to go right now, baby.” She moves toward my car. Thank fuck she didn’t fight me on this. I don’t have much more fight left in me tonight. I open the passenger door for her and she gets in. Silence floats through the small space as I merge onto the expressway. *** Ivy

I’m really not sure what to say to him. I didn’t want to leave with him, but I knew I had no choice. He’d have no problem tackling me and forcing me into the car. When he doesn’t take the exit for my apartment, I can’t help but be worried. I turn to look at him. “Where are we going? That was the exit to my apartment.”

I hold the door handle, trying to control my nerves. Calm down, Summers. He stares straight ahead and speaks in a flat voice. “We can’t go to your place. And we can’t go to mine. So I’m taking you somewhere safe for the night, until Bernard makes contact.” Not thinking clearly, I blurt out, “Where are we going?” In any other situation, I probably would have chosen my words more carefully. He still doesn’t turn and look at me. Even though I’m mad at him, I wish he would look at me. Finally, he says, “I already told you. Somewhere safe.” I rest my head on the seat and stare out the window. I’ve known Jacade long enough to know this conversation is over.

CHAPTER 20

Ivy

The unlatching of the glove box wakes me up. I hear Jacade’s velvety voice. “Come on, baby, time to get out of the car.” Opening my eyes, I see we’ve pulled into a dimly lit garage in a storage yard. Jacade is leaning over me, grabbing items out of the glove box. I blink a few times to shake off the sleep. “Where are we?” I lean forward in my seat and try to get my bearings straight. From the glove box, Jacade pulls out a new phone, some cash, ammo, and a key. That’s certainly not what I keep in my glove box. He shuts the box and brushes my hair away from my face. “We’re almost there. I promise.” If I had to guess, we had to have been driving for about forty to forty-five minutes. So we must be out in the suburbs somewhere. He gets out of the car and walks around to open my door. I step out and shiver. The fall air has cooled down this late in the evening. Jacade reaches in the back seat, pulls his jacket out of his gym bag, and wraps it around my shoulders. He grabs my hand and we exit the garage. I can hear the garage door closing behind us as we walk out of the yard and down the deserted street, hand in hand. He’s still shirtless and must be freezing. I whisper, “Do you want your jacket? You must be cold.”

He whispers to me, “No, I’m good, baby. We only have a few more blocks to go.” Even in the midst of all this madness, his smooth voice layers me in safety. After about five minutes, we come upon the back of a vast building with brown siding. The building either has apartments or condos, since I can see attached balconies and sliding patio doors. We climb the back staircase and he has to slow down multiple times for me. His legs are so much longer than mine, so he can take the stairs two or three at a time. Jacade slides a key into a door marked 5E and pushes it open. It’s pitch-black inside. He turns to me. “Wait here. I want to check the place out first.” He reaches into his gym bag and pulls out his gun. I should probably be scared and wondering why a physician carries a gun. But I’m not. I’m fixated on his sculpted, naked torso and rock-hard body. I’m broken from my fantasy of licking each contour of that gorgeous tattoo when he motions for me to enter. After I cross the threshold, he locks and chains the door, then slides a small loveseat in front of it. The air is stale and cold. I pull his jacket tight around me and turn away from him as I stand in the middle of a barren living room. The streetlights cast eerie shadows through the space. I hear his gun slide onto the kitchen counter and feel his presence as he walks up behind me. I need a minute alone. I need a break from him so I can think. “Where’s the bathroom?” He turns and points down a narrow hallway. “First door on your left.”

“Thanks.” I hurry to get out of the room and away from him. I close the door, lower the lid of the toilet, and sit down. I can’t think straight with all the crazy images from tonight flying around in my head. Not to mention the glorious scent wafting off his jacket, which I’m not taking off. I flush the toilet, just in case he’s listening, and make my way into the living room. Summers, it’s big-girl panties time. He’s sitting on the floor on a fleece blanket in the middle of the living room. He’s looking out the sliding glass doors to the balcony. The streetlights glisten off his black satin boxing shorts. Three pillar candles flicker on the blanket along with some type of food set for two. He lifts one corner of his mouth in an adorable grin. “Won’t you join me, Ms. Summers? Tonight’s special is cup of noodles à la carte.” I walk over to the blanket and bend to sit on my knees. He’s made us cup of noodles by candlelight. Most women might not be impressed… but I’m astounded he thought enough about my comfort to put this together for me. I smile and say, “Thank you,” as I pick up my cup of noodles. I turn the fork around the noodles and take a bite of the chicken-flavored, salty goodness. I didn’t know I was this hungry. His soft voice breaks the silence. “Sorry, slim pickings in the cabinets here.” I reply nonchalantly. “This is fine. Thank you for making it.” I feel like we’re strangers. I guess after what I saw tonight, we are. I’m not sure who he is or what I’m even supposed to say to him.

After a few minutes, he turns and sits cross-legged facing me. I look up from my noodles, finding it hard not to stare at his bare chest. He smirks and in a playful voice says, “So I guess this is our first date.” “Well, we did go out to dinner for about five minutes the first day I met you,” I tell him. He chuckles. “We did, but it turned into a drinking fest for you, my dear.” With a genuine laugh, I say, “Hey, when a girl is left at a table all by herself in a fancy restaurant, she’s gotta do what she’s gotta do.” It feels good to laugh with him. I can’t believe it’s only been three days. It feels like three years. “I have an idea,” Jacade says, as he puts down his cup of noodles. “How about we each get to ask the other one question tonight? The only rule is the answer must be one hundred percent the truth.” I act like I’m thinking about it. He raises his eyebrows and I nod my okay. I’ve got a variety of questions for you, mister. Both Slut Ivy and Feminist Ivy put their reading glasses on and dig for files in a cabinet labeled, Questions for Jacade. He leans in and smiles. “Ladies first.” Lawdy, his smile and dimple. They’ll be the death of me, for sure. I set my noodles down too and chew on my bottom lip. What do I ask him? Why does he carry a gun? Whose condo is this, and why is there not even a bed in here? This is my chance and I have so many questions. But I’m not sure I want to know the answers. “When did you meet my Uncle Bernie?” No, wait. “Are

you a cage fighter?” I meant, “Why were you fighting Viktor tonight?” Shoot. I sound like an idiot. He laughs and wets his lips. “That’s three questions, sweetheart.” “Well, I get bonus questions.” He looks down at the floor, then starts to talk. “Okay. I’ve known Bernard for many years. Since I was eighteen.” He looks up at me and I have to remember to listen because his eyes are sparkling so brilliantly in the candlelight, it’s distracting. “Yes, I was a fighter. Not anymore. Tonight was a special event.” Interesting. Short answers. But at least he gave me something. I hold my follow-up questions and take another bite of noodles. I’m pretty sure that’s all I’m going to get from him tonight. Jacade stretches his fingers out in front of him and cracks his knuckles. “Okay, my turn.” Please don’t ask about my scar. Please don’t ask about my scar. *** Jacade

Ivy reaches for her hair and messes with it. She’s nervous. What does she not want to tell me? I can’t imagine what she’s feeling. I’m aware of our lack of time together, but I’ve waited so long for her. I want to establish a life together at this very moment. I have to keep reminding myself of what Bernard said and think about her feelings instead of my own. I decide to give her an easy question, which means I’m not going to bring up her scar, even though one day she

will have to tell me. The candlelight flickers off her cheeks. “Tell me about your relationship with Viktor.” I know they dated, so this won’t be new information to me, but I need her to feel as though she can tell me her all of good, bad, and everything in-between. She shifts to sitting cross-legged. “Umm, okay. I… I met Viktor completely by chance.” No you didn’t. I know the true story. “He found me on the street.” By a coffee shop. “He bought me something to eat and drink.” Because Bernard ordered him to. “Next thing I know, I’m in a stolen car getting pulled over by the police.” Yep, that sounds like Viktor. She seems to want to keep talking. So I let her. “Viktor was different when I met him.” No, he wasn’t. “Anyway, one thing led to another and we started dating.” He was using you. She grips her cup of noodles so tight the Styrofoam bends. She lowers her voice. “He told me he loved me.” Bastard. “So when he proposed, I was unsure. But I had no one and nowhere else to go.” Huge bastard. I hang my head to conceal the guilt written across my

face. The torture I feel for not being around to protect her back then will be forever buried deep in my bones. Even a marrow transplant couldn’t mend the stinging pain. The silence alerts me that she’s stopped talking during my pity party. She looks at me and smiles. “Ivy, I’m sorry you had to go through that. What I wouldn’t give to rewind time and beat the living shit out of him.” I need to be cautious. In due time, baby. I promise. “He’s a cruel and manipulative douchebag who will get what’s coming to him.” I’ll make him pay. You can bet on that. I focus on her misting doe eyes, which are hooked on mine. I didn’t want my words to make her cry. I reach over and place a runaway piece of hair behind her ear. She rests her cheek in the palm of my hand and closes her eyes. When my thumb rubs her delicate skin, I notice I still have crusty blood on my hands. I need to shower before I touch her. I’m plagued with Viktor’s blood, and mine. “Baby, I think we should try to get some sleep.” Her eyes open and she nods in agreement. I kneel to blow out the candles and clear away the food. I grab some bedding from the closet and return to her. “I’m going to sleep on the loveseat blocking the door. Here are some more blankets for you.” As I hand her the blankets, she peers into my eyes. “I just need a little time, Jacade.” I pause and stare at her breathtaking features. I have to remember I’ve taken over her life in a matter of three days. What she doesn’t realize is that it’s been years for me. I want to spend my life with her. As soon as possible. It’s in my nature to call all the shots, but I have to remember to pay attention to her feelings. So if she

needs time, time is what she’ll get. I won’t lose her. Ever. “I know. And after this is all cleared up, you’ll have it.” I turn and grab my gun off the counter on my way to the loveseat. My stomach feels like Viktor and every other man in the universe has sucker punched me in my gut. Time… All I’ve done is wait for her. But I’d do it all over again and I’ll wait as long as it takes. No question. I tuck my gun under my pillow and we both lie down. The tension in the room is fresh and unrelenting. She whispers, “Are you still awake?” I grin because of course I am. I can’t stop thinking about her. “Yes, dear.” She pauses. “I wanted to let you know I heard what Viktor said to you in the cage tonight… toward the end.” Yeah, he’s an asshole. Her voice is so quiet I can barely hear her. “And I wanted to say thank you for punching him in my defense.” I’d slay dragons for you, Ivy. “You’re welcome. Now go to sleep.” I grin in the dark at her tenderness. I hear her roll over and whisper. “And if it’s any consolation, Viktor didn’t take my virginity. And the first time we did sleep together, he couldn’t even get it up. Goodnight.” I’m glad she can’t see the huge smile spreading across my face. Ha ha ha, fucking dick. *** Ivy

The carpet feels like it’s cluttered with razor-sharp tacks

as I roll over on my other side. I try to fall asleep again, but I think I hear music playing in the distance. Music? I open my eyes and look over to the loveseat. Where is he? I stand and rub the crust out of my eyes. I follow the quiet strains to the light coming from under the bathroom door. I rest my ear to the door and hear water running as well. I carefully turn the knob and peek in. His hands are on the wall of the shower, his head leaning on his forearms. I instantly recognize the intimate and introspective ballad playing from his phone. “Heal” by Tom Odell. The water runs down his back, over his firm ass, and down into the tub. For a moment, I take him in. Purple bruises are appearing on his torso. He has those bruises because of what Viktor said to him in the cage about me. He completely lost it. Why would a man who barely knows me defend me so violently? I tiptoe into the bathroom and peel off my clothes, dropping them on the floor. I step up close to his side. He tilts his head to the side when he feels me next to him but puts his forehead back down. I climb behind him and am hypnotized by the eyes of the panther on his back. Omniscient eyes that own secrets begging to be revealed. I float my index finger around the head of the panther. One of the orange bursts of the panther’s tongue is reddened as if it was recently tattooed. I glide my finger over the flame and he cringes at my touch. Wrapping my arms around him from behind, I lay my cheek on his solid back. I realize this is the real Jacade. The man who is strong and fierce, but vulnerable and damaged. Confident and

dominating, but generous and kind. He takes one of my hands and interlaces our fingers across his chest. He presses my hand to his heart with every vibrating beat of the music. We hold each other for a long time, listening to the ethereal notes floating through the air. *** Ivy

The morning light wakes me. I’m alone… again. What is it with him disappearing in the mornings? He was so nurturing last night after our shower. He vigilantly dried me off with a towel and carried me in his arms into the living room. We lay down together, limbs intertwined like vines, until I drifted off to sleep. I wrap the blanket around my midsection and walk through the empty condo. In the kitchen I find a note scratched on a napkin. Shane will take you where you need to go. You’re safe. Take all the time you need. I’m getting really sick and tired of all his notes. But I asked for time to think. And I guess he’s giving it to me. So why does my stomach feel like a clown is twisting it into a colorful balloon animal?

CHAPTER 21

Ivy

Shane is standing outside the condo and takes me directly home. He sits on my couch while I dress, but I can’t figure out what to wear. I throw on my dark-cherry sweater dress and look for some matching pumps, but decide boots will work fine. I clip my hair out of my face and let Shane drive me to work. I’m thankful it’s Thursday, because Jacade and Uncle Bernie will be at the surgery center performing procedures this morning. I’ll still see him later this afternoon, but I know he’ll keep his distance. He’s a man of his word. I’m not sure I want him to keep his word, or his distance. I’m totally unable to get any work done. After lunch, I head up front to see if Aunt Helen needs any help. She’s in the waiting room explaining forms to a patient. While I’m waiting, my mind wanders to my favorite hobby, thinking about Jacade. I saw him once today. As usual, he looked amazingly hot. He was dressed in charcoal dress slacks paired with a burgundy slim-fit dress shirt. The way his shirt hugs his muscles makes me want to push him up against the wall and rip it off him. I could take hold of the stethoscope draped around his neck and mash his sultry lips into mine. When he passed me in the hallway, sparks flew between us like flares off an exploding electrical transformer. At first I thought he might pretend to not notice me. But then

he flashed me a charming dimple-ridden grin along with a flirtatious wink. Even after he passed, I could feel the sting of the remnant sparks tingling my skin. The incessant ringing of the office phone breaks me from my daydream. As I’m listening to the patient on the phone, from the corner of my eye, I see a woman approach the open sliding glass window. I don’t turn to her because I’m paying attention to the patient on the phone. I hear the woman tap her fingernails on the check-in desk. Wow, rude. I call over my shoulder, “Ma’am, I’ll be with you shortly,” and return my attention to the patient on the phone. “Don’t call me ma’am, unless you’re saying I’m old. Which, if that’s the case, I want to speak to the office manager.” What did she just say? Guess what, bitch? I’m the office manager. So suck on that! I hang up the phone and say over my shoulder, “I’m the office manager, so if you have a complaint—” I turn around and see who my annoying and snobby patient is. It’s Bryn. A huge smile creeps across her face and we both laugh uncontrollably. She comes running through the office door straight into my arms. “I can’t believe— What are you doing here?” I say in her ear, relishing in the warm hug. She pulls away and smiles. “I came here to speak to the office manager ‘cause apparently you’re calling patients old and need to be fired.” We both burst out laughing. Almost too loud. If you can’t be loud with your best friend, who can you be loud with?

“No, seriously, I missed you. Plus, after I got Aunt Helen’s message about you wandering off into the great unknown, I felt it was time for a visit.” I forgot Aunt Helen panicked after our awkward lunch and called everyone in the Yellow Pages. I stand back and survey Bryn. She looks good. Maybe a little stressed. Her long, strawberry blonde hair frames her face and her whiskey eyes sparkle with mischief. Her bohemian maxi-dress offsets her tanned and toned body nicely. She probably got that dress from some exotic boutique in a faraway land. Her upbringing was the complete opposite of mine. So when we met in college as freshman, we latched onto each other. Her parents were not around, because they were workaholics, not because she was thrown away like me. She married Greg right out of college and they travel all around the world together. I miss her so much. I hear Uncle Bernie’s voice as he comes to stand next to me. “With all this laughing, I knew it had to be Bryn.” He smiles and gives her a hug. “Hi, Uncle Bernie,” she says, as they pull away. I haven’t spoken to Uncle Bernie since the events of last night. So I’m keeping my lips sealed. Uncle Bernie turns to walk down the hallway and says, “We can all catch up later. I have a patient waiting.” Bryn waves and nods in response to him. She says, “Sooo, how has my best friend—” Her eyes veer over my right shoulder and widen. I’m pretty sure I hear a faint muttering of, “Holy mother of god,” slip from her lips. Her eyes find mine again and she whispers quickly, “Ivy, who the hell is that?”

I knew exactly who she was referring to without even needing to look. I could feel Jacade approaching. I tremble as he steps up next to me. Hey, wait a minute, I thought we were keeping our distance? You, mister, aren’t keeping your distance if I’m shivering and shaking over here! Bryn’s eyebrows narrow, and I know she saw my entire body respond to his presence. Okay, time to play it cool and not act like this man is the hottest thing alive. Or can fuck you into oblivion, which I know from experience. I’m still not quite sure how I’m going to get out of this one with Bryn. I haven’t told her anything about Jacade since, technically, I don’t know anything about him myself. Even though I slept with him. Details, schmetails. I turn to Jacade. “Umm, Bryn this is Jaca”—my voice wavers and I cough to clear my throat—“I’m sorry, Bryn. This is Dr. Jordan. Dr. Jordan this is my best friend, Bryn.” That didn’t go too badly. However, Bryn’s eyebrows are still narrow, and she’s studying me intently, not even looking at the Goliath beside me. What’s wrong with you, woman? Look at him, not me. He extends his hand to her and says in his amazeballs voice, “Please, call me Jacade.” Bryn’s eyes go to his and she shakes his hand. “Nice to meet you.” Her voice sounds kind of cold considering Bryn’s normal bubbly personality. “So Jacade. I haven’t heard anything about you.” Her eyes throw daggers at mine. “How long have you been working at the office?”

Here comes the Bryn inquisition. Bryn can get information out of anyone. One time in college, she was able to get our literature professor to give us our final exam essay questions a week before the exam. She should totally work for the CIA. Jacade is cool as a cucumber. “Only a few months.” Question answered, Bryn. Time to go, people. Let’s move along, nothing to see here. I try to change the subject and look at Bryn. “So when do you want to have a girls’ night out?” She doesn’t even look in my direction. It’s like she doesn’t even hear me. Earth to Bryn? Anyone in there? She keeps staring at Jacade like I’m her pup needing protection. She crosses her arms over her chest. “Only a few months, huh? How are you liking it?” Okay, everyone stop talking. Bryn had to have noticed the sexual tension between Jacade and I. Otherwise her antennae would be hidden behind her ears instead of seeking more information. Bryn’s probably upset I haven’t uttered a word about him to her. Man, I’m in trouble. I don’t want to be on Bryn’s bad side. Screw this week! Jacade crosses his arms, mimicking Bryn. “I’m liking it just fine. Thank you for asking.” Cue panty-dropping smile and dimple. I could swim in his dimple. Skinnydipping would be more like it. Jacade looks from me to Bryn. “If you two want to have a girls’ night out, I can get you into a new club called Mogul. I know the owner. VIP treatment and drinks on the house.” At least Jacade was listening to me. Bryn, on the other hand, is still looking from me to him. Did she not hear VIP

and free drinks? He turns and stares into my eyes. It’s the first time he has really looked at me since our candlelight cup of noodles dinner. His eyes pierce through me like a sharp knife through a thread. “Shane can drive you both.” Which, in Jacade speak, means Shane is still going to be with you at all times. Okay fine whatever, Jacade. Bryn pipes up. “Thanks, that would be great.” I notice Bryn’s posture and mood has changed back to friendly in mere seconds. What have I missed? Obviously, a whole bunch. He nods at Bryn. “No problem.” He politely adds, “It was a pleasure meeting you, Bryn,” and turns to leave. I catch a whiff of his scent. My whole body tenses and a ripple effect surges from the tips of my pedicured toes all the way up my spine. His presence and voice can leave me dripping with need. I open my eyes to see Bryn staring at me with her arms crossed. Her eyebrows go up in question. She grins, and in her best Ricky accent, says, “Bestie, you got some major ‘splainin to do.”

CHAPTER 22

Ivy

I stare at myself in the full-length mirror. Why the hell did I ever think I could pull this dress off? It was made for a tan little twig with teeny tiny hips and thin thighs. I smooth my hands down the sides of my cocktail dress while turning from side to side. A midnight-blue spaghetti strap, silky sheath dress with a tight skirt falling above mid-thigh is covered in black lace down to my fingertips. The draped back shows most of my lower back. God, I hate that huge mole on my spine and the dimples above my hips. I rummage through my closet and find the perfect shoes. My see-through black lace Jimmy Choo peep-toe pumps with a five-inch heel. At the mirror again, I assess my entire outfit from every angle while pulling on the hem of my dress trying to magically make it longer. At least the lace is a few inches longer than the shell underneath, so it gives the appearance of being longer. Right? Sexy clubbing dress? Check. Fuck-me stilettos and shimmery hoop earrings? Check and check. Smoky eye makeup, flat-ironed hair, and sweet vanilla perfume? Check, check, and check. As I’m grabbing my essentials to put in my clutch, I think about Bryn and Jacade’s earlier encounter. After he left and she was ready to interview me under a bright light, we came to an agreement. Just for tonight, we would not ask any questions. We’d

have a girls’ night out. I thought it was a great idea because she can’t ask me any questions about Jacade, and I could pretend I didn’t notice her wedding rings missing from her left hand. Ignorance is bliss sometimes. Rat-a-tat-tat. I know it’s Shane. As he was driving me home after work, I begged him to let me get ready tonight by myself. I told him he could come in and check out my apartment first, but I wanted to be alone. After much negotiation, he agreed to wait outside on my stoop. I felt bad, but I wanted to be alone in my own place for a little bit. I swipe my keys and my blackstudded clutch and walk toward the door. I’m so not in the mood for this. *** Jacade

The strobe lights cast iridescent rays off the custom reflective glass on the dance floor, creating a lively atmosphere through the entire club. I clench the railing as I look over my busy dance floor. I am not in a lively mood. I squint every time the lights point directly at me, because I really don’t want to be here tonight. The only reason I’m here is because I want to keep an eye on Ivy. The all-glass bar placed strategically off to the side of the club isn’t too crowded yet. But it’s still early. Mogul’s girls walk between VIP areas on parallel catwalks suspended over the dance floor. The girls are wearing their standard uniform of tight magenta miniskirt, black stilettos, and black Mogul tee.

The front of the tees say, Mogul’s Gal in gold shimmery cursive lettering. Catchy phrases decorate the backs of the tees. Moguls are watching you! Moguls make it rain! and my favorite, Moguls give me the tips! A few VIPs are chilling on the black leather couches and chaises. I release my death grip on the metal railing and walk toward my concealed office door at the end of the VIP area. I place my palm flat on the mirrored glass and the door swings open, then closes seamlessly behind me. I sit at my executive desk and watch the six sixty-inch plasma TV screens mounted on the walls around the room. One screen continuously streams stock information and the other five show security angles. I can also see the entire club through a one-way wall window. From the dance floor it looks as if the entire back wall of the club is made of mirrored glass. I glance at my Rolex. Ivy and Bryn should be arriving shortly. Hopefully I can get this encounter with Kara done smoothly and without a scene. Since Ivy came back in my life earlier than expected, I need to break things off with Kara officially. I haven’t seen her in over two weeks, but I asked Chowder to bring her here so I could explain in person our relationship, or whatever it was, is over. I’m Ivy’s and always have been since the moment I first laid eyes on her. Through the window, I see Chowder approaching with Kara. I punch in the password to let them into the office. Kara seems nervous and I’m not exactly sure why. I made it clear from the beginning and reminded her many times this was only sex and she shouldn’t hope for anything

more. So unless she didn’t keep her half of the deal, this should be quick and painless. I walk to the front of my desk and lean up on it. I motion for her to sit in the club chair in front of me. She’s wearing a tight, glittery, emerald green dress, setting off her platinum hair. She’s quite striking and she gives great head. Someday she’ll make another man very happy, just not this one. She crosses her legs and waits for me to speak. I keep my tone casual. “Kara, the reason I asked you here tonight is to end our relationship.” She nods, but remains silent. I’m so used to Ivy’s smart mouth, I’ve forgotten what it’s like to have a woman sit quietly. I crouch down in front of her and look her in the eyes. “Kara, I need to hear some words, so I know you understand what I’m saying.” She exhales and she seems to have calmed to some extent. She stares at her hands folded in her lap as she whispers, “I understand.” She’s still acting unusual, even for her. I reach up and lift her chin so her eyes are looking into mine. “Do you have anything you’d like to ask me?” I know she does, but I’m not sure what she’ll ask. I wasn’t very nice to her during our time together. I was in need of sexual fulfillment, and Kara had to fill the void until it was my time with Ivy. Her eyelashes flutter and her voice is timid. “Did… did I do something wrong?” I soften my voice. “No, Kara. You did nothing wrong. It’s time to end this.” I don’t want to be cruel, but she also needs to get the point. She knew what this was when we began.

She nods and I think I see a tear, but I’m not quite sure. “Do you have any other questions? We’re not going to have sex again, Kara. Ever.” Now I’ve got her attention. Her eyebrows narrow and her eyes plead with me not to end this. I feel nothing romantically for Kara. I mean, I care about her, but only because it was kind of my job. I was told to find Kara and become involved with her since she’s Viktor’s sister. I did what I was told to do. Now the council can fuck off. Damn, I’m a dick. I can see the hurt in her face when she asks, “Is there someone else?” “Yes, Kara. There is. There always has been. I’m sorry.” I stand and walk toward the back door. Kara follows me and gives me a kiss on the cheek as she exits. It could’ve gone a lot worse. I walk over to the glass window and watch Chowder lead Kara out of the club. Good, Ivy and Kara will not have a chance to collide tonight. Spoke too soon. Just as Kara is exiting the club, her shoulder bumps right into Ivy’s. This is way too close for comfort. Fuck me.

CHAPTER 23

Ivy

“Oh goodness. I’m so sorry!” I turn and apologize to the blonde-haired beauty exiting the club. Where do I know her from? “My apologies,” she says without looking directly at me. A man with a stern and determined look on his face tightens his grip on her bicep and quickly leads her out of the club. What’s his problem? I’m at fault too. We bumped into each other. I watch as the man escorts her outside and places her into the dim SUV. It looks like the one we got out of… but I saw Shane leave… didn’t I? I’m broken from my thoughts when I feel a tap on my shoulder and turn to see Bryn mouthing, Hello? while pointing toward the bar. Mogul is an endless sea of provocative, dry humping and drunk patrons. It’s about ten people deep at the bar with shoulder-to-shoulder dirty grinders on the dance floor. I glance up and see a large mirror looking down over the entire club. The mirror gives me a strange feeling. I study it a little longer than I probably should, because I feel like I’m being drawn to it. The strobe lights flash in my eyes, and I’m severed from my imaginary magnetic pull. I finish assessing the club and see the two upper lofts of the club are connected by three walkways with halfnaked dancing women. Of course, there would be halfnaked dancing women. It’s called Mogul for god’s sake. I

must look lost, because a bouncer appears out of thin air. I’m barely able to hear him over the music as he leans in and asks, “Are you Ivy Summers?” Umm, yeah, but who wants to know? I nod cautiously as he waves his hand for Bryn and me to follow him. Bryn smiles and runs ahead of me, and I have to catch up with her. Well, she’s ready to party! The three of us enter an elevator and the bouncer touches his earpiece and listens. I wonder if it’s his boss telling him something about the blonde-haired woman that possibly got into Shane’s SUV. I strain to eavesdrop on the scary bouncer’s conversation when Bryn pinches my right butt cheek. Really fricking hard. “Ow!” Bryn bursts out laughing. I reach back and rub circles on my butt cheek so it doesn’t bruise. The bouncer turns around and glares at both of us. Oops, he must have missed his orders on his earpiece thingy. Our bad. Bryn gives him a coy smile and points at me. “She started it.” My jaw drops open and I gape at her like she’s from outer space. Frickin’ bitch! Shrugging, she adds with a giggle, “What can I say… she likes it rough.” Goddammit. I’m gonna kill her! He shakes his head and turns back around. As we exit the elevator, Bryn smacks my ass cheek and shouts, “Move it, hussy!” with another mischievous grin on her

face. Ah man, is she gonna get it! We head toward the VIP area and I can clearly see we have the best seats in the house. We’re in the far upper corner by the mirror with our elevator bouncer standing between us and the other VIPs. This is awesome. Bryn plops down into a cushy, gold leather club chair. She screams to me, “This is fucking sweet!” I smile and head toward the chair opposite her, next to the mirror. What is it about the mirror? I lean in to get Bryn’s attention. “Drinks?” Her eyes open wide and she yells over the booming music, “For sure!” Her enthusiasm finally catches up to me. Let’s let loose and get buck wild! *** Jacade

Juan, my strongest and smartest bodyguard, stands in front of me in my office. “Do not take your eyes off them. Also, send their waitress to me before they’re served anything.” “Yes, s—” Before Juan can finish, Ivy’s high-pitched scream echoes through my earpiece. I know it’s Ivy’s because I’ve made her scream that way before. I pull up the VIP elevator on the security monitors. I can see Bryn snickering as Ivy rubs her ass. I shake my head and grin. Crazy women. Juan’s voice pulls me out of my Ivy rubbing her luscious

ass trance. “Sorry, sir. Yes, I understand.” I dismiss him with a tilt of my head toward the door. Pulling my earpiece out, I sit in my desk chair. A few moments later, I hear tapping on the back door of the office. “Come in!” I yell ‘cause frankly, like I said, I do not want to be here tonight. I hear heels clicking in my direction as my best VIP waitress, Marisa, steps up to the front of my desk. “You wanted to see me, sir.” I look up to see an attractive Latina woman staring at me. Marisa is hot, but she isn’t Ivy. “Yes, Marisa.” I lean in my chair and rest my chin on my index fingers. “The two women who were just seated in your VIP section, you’re only to serve them two alcoholic drinks tonight.” Marisa’s eyebrows narrow, and I know I’ve confused her. Shit, I don’t have patience for this tonight. I try to clarify for her. “For every cranberry vodka they order, and they’ll order lots of them, the next two will be only cranberry juice and ice.” Stay with me, Marisa. I deepen my voice and draw my eyebrows together to ensure she knows I’m serious. “Understood?” She nods. “You may go.” *** Ivy

The flashes of blue, yellow, and green coming from the strobe lights pierce through my eyelids. This is what I needed, a girls’ night out with my bestie. I lift my arms

over my head and sway my hips like I’m learning how to hula dance. I know I’m not a good dancer, but tonight I don’t care. Tonight, I’m going to let all my cares fly out the window and have some fun. I open my eyes with some difficulty, since sweat has melted my mascara and fused my eyelashes. “Heartbeat” by Vicetone explodes from the sound system. Bryn and I smirk at each other. Let’s shut this place down, bestie! Bryn and I contort our bodies every which way to the fast pumping rhythm. We are both sweaty messes, grinding our hips and singing to the remix filling our ears. Over Bryn’s shoulder I see a tall, muscular, blond man come up, place his hands on her hips, and mirror her dirty moves. She looks up at me and shrugs. That’s when I decide I need a drink. I point to the VIP area and motion to Bryn I’m going to go get some water. Once upstairs, I grab a bottle of water and lean over the railing to watch the dancers move, including Bryn whose backside is pressed against her new dance partner. I needed this water. I miss my lips and ice-cold water lands on my hot cleavage. Damn, feels great. Anyone got a hose? I rest against the mirrored wall. I close my eyes and can still see the strobe lights streaming through my eyelids. As I’m about to take another sip of water, the wall at my back slips away, and two rough hands slide around my hips to balance me. The hands pull me backward… into the space the mirror previously occupied.

CHAPTER 24

Jacade

While I’m sliding my hands along Ivy’s curvy hips, I’m brought back to our elevator encounter. The same passionate energy pulling me toward her as before. It’s taken all my willpower to watch her dance in that lascivious lace dress and not approach her. She said she needed time, but I can’t do it anymore. I need to feel her skin on mine. Her breath on my face. Her fingers on my body. I pull her through the mirror as she struggles to get away. I wouldn’t expect anything less from her. I place her firmly on her feet and reach my hand around to cover her mouth. My dick is hard just from her struggling to get away from me. I whisper in her ear, “Shush, Ivy, it’s me.” I release her and she spins around as realization comes across her face. Fuck, I’d love to be coming across her face. Without warning, her hands swing high and she pummels my biceps. “What the hell, Jacade? You scared me to death!” I put my hands up in defense while laughing, “Okay, okay.” She hits me one last time on my bicep and whispers, “Asshole,” under her breath. Crossing her arms over her chest, she wanders over to the mirror and looks down on the club. I slide my hands into my pockets and wait. Your move,

baby. She sees my reflection in the glass and looks like she’s contemplating what to do next. “We need to talk.” I can hear the frustration in her voice. “Preferably not in a nightclub, but I’ll take what I can get. Spill the beans, Jordan.” The pitch in her voice is determined but kind. That’s good. She could’ve swung around and kicked me in my Johnson, but she didn’t. No jokes. She wants answers. “I can’t, Ivy. Soon. Soon I’ll tell you everything you want to know. Right now, I can’t. I will not put your life in danger. Ever. Please, baby. Be patient.” Her eyes are fixated on my image, as I wait for her response. She whips around and irritation pours out of her voluptuous form. She glares at me. “Have you been watching me all night from up here?” Wait, she’s aggravated about me watching her without her knowing? Not because I couldn’t give her any answers? Okay, I can work with this. Her voice is a little too bitter for my liking, though. If she was any other woman, I would’ve swung her over my knee and spanked her senseless. No woman talks to me in that tone. Unless you’re Ivy Summers. I try not to let her know this valuable piece of information. Enough with the talking, dear. With my hands still in my pockets, I saunter toward her. The lion stalking the gazelle deep in the tundra. I have to be careful not to spook her. As I get closer, she retreats until I raise my eyebrows. She stops. My dick twitches every time she obeys. The two I’s. Damn, I’m in trouble

when it comes to Ivy and obedience. Great, another Achilles heel. I back her up until her ass hits the mirror. Standing directly in front of her, I can see she’s excited by my presence. She places her palms flat on the mirror, bending her fingers. I take her hands and raise them above her head against the glass. I’m caging her in. My eyes drift down and I can see her body reacting to mine. Her breathing has picked up, pushing her breasts closer into my chest, and her thighs have parted a tad. I lean in close to her right ear and kiss below her earlobe. I taste her sweet sweat and perfume. I blow warm breath on her bare neck and hear her suck in air. I grin to myself. Gotcha, Summers. You don’t need any more time. I hold both her hands in my right fist and trail the pinky finger of my left hand up the outside of her thigh. My index finger grazes her inner thigh and leaves goosebumps in its wake. I growl in her right ear and nip her earlobe. In response to her earlier question, I whisper, “So what if I was?” I lick the salt off the skin on her neck, kiss her chin, and hover over her trembling lipstick-rendered mouth. Her eyes penetrate my soul. Holding her stare, I move my thumb and index finger to her nipple and pinch it through her lace dress. She moans and her body bucks forward, snapping her head against the mirror. She arches her back, pushing her tits into the air. I

realize something only a man would notice. “Fuck me, Ivy. You aren’t wearing a bra?” My dick is going to burst. In short gasps, she says, “No. I couldn’t… with this… dress.” Fuck me. If I weren’t so turned on, I’d be raging pissed that she’s in a club without a bra on. We’ll be having a discussion about this later. While I’m collecting my thoughts laced with sexual thirst and rage, her fingers trail down to the hem of her dress. She pulls it up to her hipbones. “I couldn’t… wear panties either.” Now, even though I’m angry as all hell that she’s in my club braless and pantyless, my dick is thinking for us all. I fall to my knees and throw her thigh over my shoulder. I press my palms to her hips to hold her in place. I shove my nose in her pussy and take a deep breath of her glorious scent. Christ, she smells incredible. I have to taste her. I use the pads of my thumbs to expose her swollen clit. I feel her tremble as I blow on her wet entrance. I flick my tongue over her clit and draw it into my lips. She yells, “Holy shit!” as her hands fly down to grip my hair. She can scream as loud as she wants. This room is sound proof. Scream, baby… scream. I slide my tongue down and push it into her entrance. I thrust my tongue in and out, listening to her repeating “Oh god,” while she moves her hips to allow me more access. I keep licking her magnificent cunt until she’s about to come. Nope, sorry, sweetheart. I say when. Carefully, I remove her thigh from my shoulder and stand up in front

of her. Her eyes are hazy from my tongue invasion. I spin her around so her nose is almost touching the mirror. I step back and watch her, ready and waiting for me. This must be torture for her, standing there, only being able to see the club patrons and not knowing what I have in store for her. I’m in total control of her body, the situation, everything. Just the way I like it. I slide the dress off her shoulders and lower it over her hips, trailing kisses down her spine as I go. I take in her trembling naked body as I undress myself. I wet my lips in sync with each button I unloop. Christ, that mole on her shoulder is so sexy. I want to lick it. My belt loosens quick and seamless. My pants drop to the floor, and I step up behind her, nuzzling my nose down the length of her hair. I could smell her for the rest of my existence. I bend to lick that chocolate mole as I slide my rock hard cock between her legs. Slick and tight. My dick jumps of its own accord and rubs against her wet pussy. He can’t be trusted at all. I grab her delicate hands in mine, bring them above her head, and interlace our fingers. I squeeze my fingers in rhythm with the gentle thrusting of my hips. I hover my lips next to her ear and try to control my heavy breathing. Sliding my cock along her entrance, I whisper, “Does that feel good?” then push, forcing her flat onto the glass. The mirror presses the head of my dick on her clit at just the right angle. With a gasp of air, she whimpers, “Yes…” Jesus, she’s wet. I hope I can hold out long enough. I kiss her neck, and in a deep rumble, I say, “I want to fuck you, Ivy. Do you want me to fuck you?” Seeing her boobs smashed up against the mirror, my hands holding her palms flat…

is all I need to come. I hear a quiet moan leave her lips. “Please…” I take our hands off the mirror and rest her back on my chest. With her arms around my neck, her breasts push into the air for my pleasure. I cup her tits with my palms and roll one of her nipples between my thumb and finger. She squeezes her thighs around my cock in a vise grip. This is excruciating. I need to fuck her. I force her onto the mirror and push her feet apart with mine. I grab her hips and pull them to me. Her hands stay flush against the mirror. I lean over and kiss the dimples at the small of her back. What an outstanding view from here. I place my right palm on her hip and use my left hand to lead my throbbing dick toward her entrance. I allow only the tip to enter her. I reach up and fist her hair to hold her in place and push all the way in. She moans and I wait a moment for her to adjust. I thrust moderately at first, and then pick up the pace. I’m switching between the view of my cock penetrating her from behind and the mirror’s reflection of her breasts jiggling as I pump into her. Fuck me. She moans. “God! It feels so good.” I drive even harder into her. I’m not going to last. I whisper, “You’re so tight,” as I smack her ass cheek, leaving an inflamed red mark. I’m pumping myself in and out of her while she’s pushing back on me. I’m lost in a spell of hunger and indulgence — “Ahh!” Her pained scream breaks the spell.

CHAPTER 25

Ivy

I raise my pleasure-ridden eyelids and I can’t believe what I see. It isn’t a club anymore. The entire club is empty. Viktor is standing in the middle of the dance floor all bandaged up and leaning on a crutch. In one hand, he holds a gun toward the ceiling, and in the other, a handful of blonde hair. He pulls her to him and lowers the gun to her temple. No! Viktor is pointing a gun at Bryn. My Bryn! That’s when the scream happens. It doesn’t sound like mine. I feel like it came out of someone else’s mouth. Jacade pulls out and turns me around to face him. He looks in my terrified eyes and over my shoulder. His eyes narrow once he sees the scene causing me to scream bloody murder. He instantly bends over, grabs my dress, and hands it to me. He dresses hastily into his suit and grabs my shoulders, digging his fingertips into them. Ouch! He angles me to look directly in his eyes. “You. Stay. Here.” His teeth grind with each word he spits out. I want to argue. I want to go down there and bash Viktor’s skull in myself. I want to go hug my best friend. I want to go home. I want to rewind the night. I want… I want… I’m lost in my own thoughts and shock, when Jacade goes over to his desk and pulls out his pistol. He charges toward the back door of his office, but at the last second, he whips around and glares at me.

He barks, “You stay here. You don’t move. Understand me?” His hand is resting on the door, ready to slam it shut. I’m broken from my trance when his voice booms loudly across the office again. “Ivy! Do you understand me?” Whoa. I feel like I’ve heard him make that statement to me before. Or maybe it’s his tone? A familiar tone? My vision is blurry with tears, but I manage to nod. “Goddammit, Ivy, I mean it! Stay here!” He slams the door and I hear the lock click. I turn to see Viktor still holding a gun to Bryn’s temple. I’m an awful friend. Here I am getting fucked by a sex god on a stick, and my best friend has a gun pointed at her head. I can’t believe I’m standing in Jacade’s office completely naked, clutching my dress to my trembling body, entirely helpless, and locked inside, because he knew I wouldn’t stay put. I couldn’t help her even if I wanted to, though. I put my dress back on and look around his office. There has to be a way to hear what is going on down there. I look everywhere and can’t find a remote to the monitors. In frustration I yell, “I need volume!” and the room fills with the sounds from downstairs. Thank you, voicecontrolled technology. *** Jacade

My rage is a blazing inferno. I take three stairs at a time down the back stairs from my office. Shane runs toward me from the alley entrance. “Upstairs, now! She’s locked in. Get her out of here!” I bolt out the door onto the dance

floor as Shane runs up the stairs. I stop when I see Viktor. He is all fucked up. His right eye is swollen shut. His nose and lips are bandaged. His crutch wobbles under one arm as he tries to balance Bryn with the other. I stalk toward him, my hands ready at my sides. He sees me and spits as he speaks. “That’s far enough, Jordan.” I stop about ten feet away from them. Bryn is pulling at Viktor’s forearm wrapped around her throat. Her feet slip as he moves, like she’s a marionette. I put my hands in my pockets and force the calmness in my voice. “Can I help you with something, Viktor?” He lets out an insane laugh and digs the gun harder into Bryn’s temple. I can see an angry red mark forming. He glares at me. “I want fucking revenge! This has gone on too long, Jordan. I’m here to end it.” I hold my arms wide and my suit jacket drapes open. “Why didn’t you say so? You didn’t need to threaten an innocent woman to get to me, Viktor. Let her go. I’m right fucking here.” His demeanor completely changes in the blink of an eye. I’ve only seen this happen one other time with Viktor. His features turn from human to demon in a matter of seconds. This isn’t going to be good. I need to get ahold of this situation. His smile is a mangled grimace. “I don’t fucking want you, asshole.” He stabs the gun cruelly into Bryn’s stomach. She lets out a deafening yelp that echoes through the building. “I want Ivy. Here. Now! Or I swear to god, I’ll

litter this club with the girl’s brains!” Ivy is not coming down here. I look him square in the eye. “No. You want me. I’m here. Let her go.” I pull out my gun and point it directly at his face. “Now, Viktor.” Everything else disappears. Viktor and I are alone in this room, frozen in a tense standoff with guns drawn, like a high-noon duel in the Old West. This is it. Here’s my chance. I can take Viktor out and the council can’t say a damn thing about it. He came to my club and made a scene. He’s crushing an innocent woman’s windpipe to get to me. To get to Ivy. Bang! Adrenaline pumps through my veins. Did I shoot him? All I see is red. The same red I saw as I sat across from him in the conference room. The same red I saw leaking out of his body in the cage. I’m just hoping the red is his and not anyone else’s. Over my dead body will he ever lay a finger on Ivy again. ###

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Ivy

Bang! Out of instinct, I hit the floor. The gunshot reverberates through the sound system and feels like a bomb exploded in the club. Bryn! Jacade! I press my sweaty palms flat against the cold floor, silently praying for both of them. The tip of my nose touches the floor, and I try not to cry. “Get up. We need to go. Now!” Shane’s voice booms in my right ear. Strong hands grip underneath my arms and pull me to my feet. Barrel-like arms wrap around me and drag me toward the back door of the office. His hold is unyielding. “Shane! Wait! What happened?” I struggle to turn and look back through the one-way mirror to see the dance floor, but he’s pulling me too fast. “What if Bryn is hurt?” Or Jacade? I feel sick. This is all my fault. I yell with all the might I can muster. “Shane, stop! Please!” At the bottom of the stairs, he turns and looks straight into my eyes. “Listen, my orders are to protect you. No one else. So that’s what I’m going to do, whether you like it or not.” I know I’m going to lose this battle with him, but I’ll keep fighting until the end. That’s what I do.

Without warning, he picks me up and throws me over his shoulder. My head ricochets as I flail against his back. I hit him with my balled-up fists, but he’s a rock. He blasts through to the alley and drops me in the back of the Escalade. He slams the door and hustles into the driver’s seat. *** Ivy

After more futile pleading with Shane, I give up and slump down in the backseat. I press the side of my head to the cool window and let tears stream down my face. I have no idea where he’s taking me, but I know it’s far away from the people I want to be with. I hug my stomach and put my spinning head between my knees. I can’t lose Bryn. I can’t lose Bryn. I can’t lose Bryn. Please, I can’t lose Bryn. I rock back and forth chanting this in my head until I realize that my plea has changed. I can’t lose Bryn or Jacade. I can’t lose Bryn or Jacade. I can’t lose Bryn or Jacade. Please, I can’t lose Bryn or Jacade. A cloud of blackness fills my vision. I can’t breathe. *** Jacade

In the darkness of Ivy’s living room, she looks as majestic as she did the night I brought her home drunk. I place my hands on my hips, letting my sports jacket hang open, and stare at her. She’s asleep on her couch, still in

her club dress, with her head turned away from me and her slim legs tucked underneath her. Her left arm is draped gingerly over her lace-covered torso, her breath shallow. In then out. In then out. In then out. I could watch her like this all night. She looks peaceful. Gentle. Not the usual firecracker I’m used to. The heat kicks on and the swaying blinds cut the moonlight shadows like fireflies doing the jig along the soft lines of her body. I had to see for myself that she was okay. Shane’s text said she was rocking herself in the back seat, chanting and pleading with him to take her back to club. He thinks she hyperventilated and passed out. At least she’s alive. Thank fuck Shane followed my instructions and got her out of the building. No way in hell was Viktor getting to her. I look through her cupboards for a water glass and find a bottle of Cuervo. Even better. The burn tickles the tip of my tongue, covers my throat, and pools in my stomach. In the belly of the beast. That’s what I needed. I place my palms on the cool granite and roll my neck. I take a deep breath and process tonight’s events. Viktor. Damn him. Dread fills my body like the first snow of winter. What if I’m not able to stop him next time? What if… No. No next time. I have to end him. For good. ###

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

M.K. Gilher is a best-selling author of heart-pounding romantic suspense with a medical twist. She spends her days at her job in the healthcare field plotting prurient stories in her mind. She writes rough around the edges, sweet on the inside, alpha-male doctors and relishes in making them suffer to get to their happily ever afters. She lives in the Chicagoland area and loves to root for her real life heroes; the Cubs, the Bears, the Bulls, and the Hawks. Follow M.K. Gilher Website http://mkgilher.com Blog http://mkgilher.blogspot.com/ Facebook https://www.facebook.com/mkgilherauthor Twitter https://mobile.twitter.com/mkgilher @mkgilher Goodreads https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8522361.M_K_Gilher Sign up for M.K. Gilher’s Mailing List http://eepurl.com/cqODTj

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REVIVAL BOOK ONE COPYRIGHT

Revival (Return to Us Trilogy Book One) © 2017 by M.K. Gilher. This book is licensed to the original purchaser only. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form without written permission from the author and publisher. Warning: This is an erotic novel containing explicit sexual content and graphic violence. It is intended for adults and is not suitable for readers under eighteen. ISBN: 9781501029295 Digital ISBN: 9781634524872 Third Edition March 2017

DEDICATION

My sincere thanks to my loving and supportive family and friends. Without all of you, this book may never have happened. And special thanks to my thesis, for inspiring the procrastination that produced this book.

PLAYLIST

“Anything” by JoJo “Bones” by Young Guns “Breath” by Breaking Benjamin “Bulletproof” by La Roux “Do It Well” by Jennifer Lopez “Freakum Dress” by Beyoncé “Heal” by Tom Odell “Heartbeat (feat. Collin McLoughlin)” by Vicetone “Invincible” by Adelitas Way “Look After You” by The Fray “Motivation (feat. Lil Wayne)” by Kelly Rowland “S&M” by Rihanna

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