We end up in what has to be the master bedroom because it has the same view as the back yard, but better.
“Here, Ivy. You can use my bathroom. I’ll bring your case up and leave it in the bedroom. Just come downstairs when you’re done and we’ll get started.”
Get started. We’re making a business arrangement. I should stop this. He’s going to tell me some far-fetched story about that night back in college. Something ridiculous that will ease my mind so he can take advantage of me.
Maybe.
Maybe that is what he’ll do.
But I can’t seem to stop myself. I feel a little bit like those people down on the track. Like I’m getting caught up in something. Something that might make me feel good in the moment, but be bad for me in the end.
“Go ahead,” Nolan says as I hesitate.
I stare out the window for a second, then look back at him, but he’s already walking away, pulling the door to the bedroom closed behind him.
I would like to freshen up. I’m feeling pretty grungy after the sex last night. So I walk into the bathroom and… wow. It’s wow.
A tall window on the far side looks out onto the ocean and my feet are in front of it and I’m staring down at the crashing waves before I even have time to think.
What a life. What must it be like to live a life like this?
I’ve never wanted for anything. I was well taken care of and I had access to the best education. If not in the world, then at least in this country. I grew up with nice things. But that’s all they were. Nice. The school was not… this. It was not luxurious. Yes, we had everything boarding schools on the East Coast have. Swimming pools and modern classrooms. Stables filled with several millions of dollars’ worth of horses. Pretty uniforms and class trips.
But luxury like this is not something I’m used to.
The shower is so extravagant with all the shower heads and knobs, I don’t even know where to start. And the white marble floor complements the white marble tiles. The sparkling glass surround tells me Nolan either has a maid or he never bathes, because there’s not one water stain to be found. The sunshine from outside washes over the room in a soft, golden glow and the sheer white curtains and tall candlesticks make it feel romantic.
Romantic.
Is he… romantic?
No. My laugh echoes right up to the high ceilings.
I turn back to the shower and step inside so I can turn on the water. It comes falling down from the ceiling in a large square pattern, making me step out to avoid getting soaked.
“Well, if one must clean up after messy sex the night before, this is not a bad way to do it.”
I slip Nolan’s t-shirt off my body and his scent almost overtakes me. I wish I could keep this shirt on forever.
The shorts slip down my legs and I step away, kicking them aside.
It’s steamy now, and I can’t wait to get in and stand under that rain shower of hot water. But just as I’m about to step in, the door opens.
Chapter Twenty-One - Nolan
She’s talking to herself when I bring the case up to the master bedroom. I walk over to the bathroom door and press my ear against it, but she goes quiet again and all I hear is the water raining down in the shower.
Is she under that water yet? I picture her wet body the way it was last night in the pool. And even though I said I’d cook breakfast while she showered, I’m not in the mood for food.
I’m in the mood for Ivy Rockwell’s body.
I just want to see it. Just look at her tits in the daylight. Take in the curve of her hips with my eyes instead of my fingertips as I grabbed onto them and fucked her from behind last night.
So I open the door… and I’m immediately busted. She’s not even in the shower yet.
“What are you doing?” she asks.
I expect her to cover herself, but she doesn’t. She just stands there. So what can I do but look?
“Fucking hell,” I say.
“Get out, Nolan,” she says.
But I don’t get out. I take a step inside and reach behind my head to grab the collar of my t-shirt. It comes off and I toss it near her shorts.
“Nolan,” she says again. “What are you doing?”
“I can’t,” I say.
“Can’t what?”
“I can’t just walk away after seeing this.” I wave a hand down her body. She is only a few feet away, so I cross the distance and place my hands on her hips. My eyes can’t see enough.
She wriggles, but I hold tight as I study her tits. Her nipples are hard, pulling her breasts up. And they are begging me to suck them.
“Nolan,” she says again, but this time it’s a whisper. “Nolan.”
“Keep saying my name, Ivy. It only makes me want to fuck you more.”
“Nolan.” And then she stops herself.
I look up at her face and she bites her lip. “What?”
“I thought we were having breakfast?”
“I can eat pussy for breakfast.”
“Stop it,” she says.
“Stop what? I’m not doing anything. Yet.”
“We’re going to talk business.”
“We can still talk business.”
“You were going to tell me a secret over breakfast.”
“I can tell you a secret in the shower.” She’s silent. “Come on, Ivy. Give me another chance.”
“Another chance at what?” She’s exasperated. Uneasy. Unsure of what’s happening.
But that’s OK. I’m very sure of what’s happening. “To make you feel good.” I grab her breast and squeeze. She sucks in a breath and makes a little moan. “Let me try again. I won’t hurt you this time, I promise.”
“I want what you promised me downstairs. I want to know why they call you Mr. Romantic first.”
“OK,” I say. “But I can do that at the same time.” She opens her mouth to protest, but I place a finger over her lips to keep her quiet. “Trust me for a minute. Let me tell you my way. It’s so much better than revealing my secret over pancakes.”