Alexander’s POV
The second I lock the door, I shove her against it.
Not gently. Not sweetly.
Like a man who’s two seconds away from f*****g her against the wall just to make a point.
Ivy’s breath catches, her back arching as I press into her, my hand wrapping tight around her throat, not choking, just enough pressure to make her eyes widen. Good. She needs to know what kind of mood I’m in.
“You think that s**t at brunch was funny?” I growl against her jaw. “Letting some asshole sit next to you, touch you, flirt with you while you f*****g blushed like a goddamn tease?”
“I didn’t flirt back—”
“Don’t lie to me, baby girl.” I nip her earlobe. “You wanted my reaction, didn’t you? You wore that pretty little dress and let your t**s bounce while you smiled at him like a slut.”
She gasps,
