I don’t wait for her to respond because truthfully, it wasn’t even a question. I’m sick of her hiding and avoiding me. I’m pissed at having to watch her with this tool.
I wish we could go back to the way things were between us the night her car broke down. While it was brief, I miss the ease between the two of us.
I stop to pick up a pizza and a six-pack of beer before heading home to settle in with a movie. With all the shows we’ve had lately, it’s been crazy, but in a good way. Sometimes I miss having laid-back, relaxing nights in or with my friends like we used to.
It’s after eight, and I’m about four beers in when I stick the leftover pizza in the fridge, hearing the lock click on the front door before slowly creaking open.
I know right away it’s Ivy. I intentionally locked it so I would hear when she got home.
Taking a swig of my beer, I lean against the edge of the counter and watch as she tiptoes in, kicking off her shoes in the entryway, adjusting her purse on her shoulder.
“I’m glad you finally decided to come back.”
Her body tenses before she turns to face me. The apples of her cheeks are rosy, accentuating the small freckles dotting her face.
“Yeah, I bet you are.”
She doesn’t believe me, the smirk on her face and the hitch in her hip shows she’s ready for an argument. She’s waiting, armed with her sass to fire back at whatever I may throw her way.
Except she’s wrong. I’m not looking for a fight with her. Not tonight.
“You care to explain Tysin’s comment to me?”
I figured she heard him. The fucker knew what he was doing when he said it, too. I’m mentally making a list of all the ways I’d like to make him suffer the next time I see him.
“What comment?” I ask, playing coy.
Her eyes narrow into slits, her fist tightening around the strap of her bag, not appreciating how I’m evading the question.
I decide to ignore the daggers she’s shooting at me while my eyes wander over her tanned skin, letting my eyes eat up every inch of her body still dressed in her bikini. However, she’s since ditched the wrap on her waist and slipped on a pair of denim shorts with high-heel sandals that scream, “fuck me on the counter.”
Now it’s all I can think about.
“What was it he said again?” She pauses, before looking me in the eyes. “Have you fucked your sister yet?”
As if reading my thoughts exactly, I choke on nothing but air. My eyes water, holding my fist in front of my mouth while I struggle to breathe. A smug look passes over Ivy’s face, as I take a drink to clear my throat.
Setting the empty bottle on the counter away from me, I take the two steps separating us to approach her. The move takes her off guard, and she forces a heavy breath through her nose.
I wasn’t prepared for it either, as her fresh scent mixed with the smell of coconut wraps around me. My dick hardens in my shorts, straining against the zipper, fighting to break free.
“Is that what you want, Ivy?” I ask, staring down at her. “Is that why you were bothered the other night when I was with blondie? Were you jealous because I was fucking her, and you wanted it to be you?”
Her jaw is set, nostrils flaring. As anger simmers in her eyes at the mental images I’m throwing at her.
“Tell me, Ivy. Is that why you’re pissed at me and have been avoiding coming back home?”
“I’m not doing this with you, Brix.”
“Would it help if I told you I was picturing it was you the entire time?”
Her mouth opens slightly, taken back by my admission, but she doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t try to argue with me or tell me to shut up.
Just like the day in the bathroom. She stares back at me, wanting more but not admitting to herself or me it’s what she wants, too.
“Does it make you feel better knowing the only way I could cum was thinking about your legs wrapped around my hips, your hands digging into my back with every thrust? It’s okay if it’s what you want, Ivy. I want it, too.”
“I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, Brix, but this isn’t funny.”