LITTLE IVY
1589 Words
CHAPTER 3
KNOX
She has no f*****g clue what she's just done to me.
This doe-eyed blonde blocking my way doesn't know I'll be jerking off to the memory of her cherry red lips for the rest of my miserable life, no matter how long or short.
She doesn't know that ten minutes ago, I came like a goddamn train wreck, over my hands, thighs, and chair, for the first time in seventeen f*****g years.
I haven't been able to…finish since the day I returned from deployment to find Catherine with a baby and a ring on her finger. She cursed me for leaving when she needed me the most, then told me the three-year-old beauty, Sierra, was mine, but she'll make sure I never see her again.
I lost everything that day. Including, my ability to f*****g come, even with the parade of women I tried after; models, porn stars, girls who knew every trick in the book.
My d**k worked fine. It could get hard. I could f**k for hours. But I could never reach a blissful climax, or any climax at all.
Something inside me broke, and no amount of therapy or pills or p***y could fix it.
Until now. Until her.
Ivy.
She stood there, watching me with big innocent eyes while I stroked myself to the sound of her voice, the image of her body against a boy's.
Sierra mentioned she had "gotten into a little trouble." I'm guessing the tape is that trouble. Which means everyone has seen it. I'm not special.
Except I am. I'm the only one who came for the first time in twenty years.
Now she says we need to talk.
About what?
I'm only sure of one fact: I'm f****d for the rest of the holidays.
She's the only one who's made me feel like a man in two f*****g decades.
And she's my daughter's little best friend.
The daughter I abandoned. The daughter who hates me. The daughter I'm trying desperately to win back.
And I'm about to f**k it all up for a twenty-year-old girl with cherry lips and serious issues.
I have to keep myself far away from her, even though all I can think of is pinning her against my office desk and showing her how real men f**k.
"Did you hear me? I said we need to talk?"
Her eyes dance around my face. I can tell she's searching for an emotion to hold on to, to work on. I give her nothing.
"I don't see what we need to talk about." My voice is calm as I speak. It takes a lot of practice to hide my desire.
Even now, her n*****s are peeking through her wool sweater. I know the frown on her face is a fluke.
She wants me.
"I'm sorry, what?" She scoffs. "I must have been dreaming when I saw you in your office a few minutes ago. I mean…" she points into the room, her throat bobs. "You…you…"
I raise a brow, feigning annoyance.
"I what?"
"You…you know right? It was me in that video?"
"And?"
"You were…" she swallows hard like the words are heavy in her mouth.
Is she suddenly embarrassed? I fight the smile that tugs at the corners of my lips.
"You were jerking off to it. And you saw me, and you didn't stop. You went on until you came."
"And you had your fingers in your p***y if I remember clearly."
Her eyes grow so large, I fear they'll pop from her sockets.
She parts her lips to speak, but I cut in before she can utter another word.
"Listen, I did nothing. You saw nothing, and we have nothing to talk about. What matters to me right now is Sierra. I just want to make things right with my daughter, and nothing else."
Her lips quiver. "Mr Reid…"
"This is the only shot I have, and I'm not letting anything or anyone ruin it."
"But…"
How f*****g stubborn can one little girl be?
I take a step closer to her, eliminating whatever distance exists between us. Her knees buckle, she doesn't stagger backwards.
I can hear her heart pounding against her chest from where I'm standing.
The scent of her cherry cologne floods my nose when I lean in, and my c**k twitches.
Does her p***y smell like cherries too?
My lip grazes the top of her left ear.
She moans, a sharp sound that hardens my c**k. I frown. It irritates me how much power she has.
"If I were you, I would keep my mouth shut and not breathe a word about this to anyone, especially Sierra."
"Or what?" She fires back.
Or what? I glare at her, and her eyes burn with equal intensity. She has no idea what she's messing with.
"There will be consequences, Ivy. You're already in enough trouble as it is, are you not?"
Pain flashes in her eyes, bright and hot. She knows exactly what I'm talking about.
Her gaze drops. From my eyes to my nostrils, and lingers on my lips. I see it when her lips part, hear the way her breath hitches at the back of her throat.
I could order her to go on all fours on my desk, and she'd obey without a second thought. She's as f****d up as I am.
Fuck. I love it.
She tears her eyes away from me and scoffs.
"You're such an asshole. It's no wonder Sierra wants nothing to do with you." She spits the words out like venom, with every intention of hurting me. And she dares to walk away?
Not so fast, little girl.
I see red. Hot red. I reach for her right hand with ease, and pull her back to me. She screams, but the moment her back touches the wall, the scream quenches into a moan at the back of her throat.
Her eyes are wide, startled—but not scared. No, there's something else there. Recognition, maybe. Like she's been waiting for someone to handle her like that. To meet her intensity with equal force.
Fuck, she's perfect.
So horny, so needy.
I need her. All of her.
She presses her palms to my chest to push me away. I take both wrists in one hand and pin them over her head.
Her chest rises and falls with heavy breasts, pebbled n*****s glaring at me, begging to be touched.
The desire to rip her shirt off and roll each one around my tongue and teeth while kneading her full breasts fills me, and my face contorts into a scowl.
"You know nothing about me, little girl." I groan, more from the frustration growing in my c**k, than out of annoyance.
"Believe me, Mr. Reid, I know more than I'm supposed to. You made sure of that. I mean, I have a vivid image of the size and shape of your c**k, all thanks to you."
Molten rage courses through my veins. I bang my fist on the wall, right next to her head, and she looks up at me in shock.
"You do not have a single clue, little Ivy," the words come out in husky breaths that betray my protruding evident desire.
"If you weren't Sierra's best friend, I'll put you on all fours in my bed and punish you severely for walking in on my private moment."
Something in her eyes glitter at the sound of my promise, my threat. She wants to be punished.
"Do your worst." She sucks in a deep breath. "I don't give two shits."
I look down at her legs to find them crossed. A small grin appears at the corner of my lips, but I get rid of it almost immediately. Horny little girl, already squeezing her p***y to the sound of my voice.
I've crossed the line once. I'd be a fool to do it again.
I step away from her before I listen to my guts and rip her jeans off and bury myself in her in this hallway.
"Do not play with fire, little Ivy. You will get burnt," I say, and without a second glance, I walk into my office and bang the door shut behind me.
I find my phone ringing on the table. My personal assistant's name is displayed on the screen. I clear my throat before reaching for it.
With one swipe, I answer the call and press it against my right ear.
"Yes, Thomas?"
"Good evening sir. I'm just calling to confirm your availability for the Grant Children's fundraising gala. Mr Grant just flew into Pristine and sent a…reminder to your office. He's really looking forward to seeing you."
I scoff. More like really looking forward to my money in his fat bank account.
"I'll be there."
"Alright, sir. What about…?"
"Let him know I'll be coming with two guests. Sierra, she brought a…" Ivy's blue eyes flash in my mind. I shake my head to fight it off. "She brought a friend."
"Alright. Noted."
I lean my forehead against the door, my hand still gripping the handle.
Seventeen years. Seventeen f*****g years of nothing. Of feeling dead below the waist. Of wondering if Catherine broke me permanently.
And one twenty-year-old girl with a s*x tape and an attitude brings me back to life in under ten minutes.
I should stay away from her. I know I should.
But God help me, I don't think I can.
I look down at my hard on with a disgruntled sigh.
- Writer
