Blake: A Bad Boy Romance (8 page)

Chapter Fourteen

Ivy sat on Blake’s couch and watched as the rising sun brightened the city below her. It was one of their rare sunny days in the Northeast with the type of weather that demanded people spend the day outside. Blake brought a cup of coffee and sat down next to her on the couch, wrapping his arm around her. She leaned against his chest and gave a contented sigh as she sipped her drink.

“So when are we going to talk about why you came over?” Blake asked. “Something was wrong on the phone. What was it?”

Ivy didn’t answer. She continued to stare out the window. She half closed her eyes as the scenery out of the window went fuzzy in her vision. She didn’t want to think about Darryl. She didn’t want to worry about him. She felt so safe and comfortable with Blake; she didn’t want to have to deal with his worries or his questions.

“You have thirty-five missed calls all from unknown numbers on your phone. And thirty-five voicemails,” Blake said. His voice was quiet. He wasn’t pressuring her for answers; he was willing to wait for her. She rested her head back onto his shoulder and closed her eyes. He leaned down and kissed her on the forehead. “It’s okay if you can’t tell me,” he whispered, his lips grazing her forehead with each syllable. “You can just let me listen to the voicemails.”

Ivy nodded. This would be the easiest way. It was hard to explain Darryl’s actions to others. The things he did seemed so innocuous as first. A few random phone calls and a few strange gifts. It was hard to describe the fear it instilled in her. It was hard to explain how she never felt safe. She was always expecting Darryl. Every time her phone rang, her heart stopped in fear it would be him. Every time a piece of mail came that she didn’t recognize she would be nauseous as she opened it.

Ivy unlocked her phone and handed it to Blake. She pulled away from him. She didn’t want to hear the voicemails. She knew there would be nothing useful in them. It would just be noises meant to frighten her. She kept the voicemails in a special folder on the cloud. Evidence in the case against Darryl that would never actually happen.

Blake stood up and pressed the phone against his ear. She turned to watch as he listened to the voicemails. He was pacing the floor of his apartment. His face went from confused to to disgusted to angry as he cycled through the calls.

“You don’t need to listen to all of them,” Ivy said quietly. “It’s all just variations on a theme. There’s nothing usable in them. They’re just meant to frighten me.”

“Who sent them?” Blake asked ending the voicemail and putting the phone down on the counter.

“My ex-boyfriend, Darryl Linden. We dated for a few months three years ago. I finally ended things with him, but he didn’t take it well. He kept saying,
who do you think you are that you can break up with me? Don’t you know who I am?
His family is heir to a logging fortune. They spent a lot of money in local politics and a lot of people owe them a lot of favors.

He knows what he’s doing. He knows how to stay on the right side of the law. The few times he’s done something he’s been arrested for, they’ve just been misdemeanors. He’s been hit with a few fines, but he just pays them and goes home and starts up again. I have a restraining order against him, but none of these are from his number and I can’t prove he did it. He’s a very smart man.”

“There has to be something we can do,” Blake said and Ivy noticed how easily and comfortably he used the word “we.” He didn’t offer to be there for Ivy; he didn’t need to say the words. He just was there for her, however she needed him to be. What had happened to self-centered Blake from high school? She had grown up in the intervening years. Maybe he had, too.

“We have a file on him, but...” She shrugged her shoulders. “Until he actually physically harms me, there’s not much the law can do. I talked to his mother once. We were on the courthouse steps. I was crying and begging her to talk to her son and get him to stop. Do you know what she said to me? She said,
My son is a good boy. You did this to him; this is your fault,
and then she walked away like it was nothing.”

Blake shook his head in and slammed his hand on the counter. “There has to be something we can do.”

“It’s best to just ignore him. Eventually he’ll get bored and move on to something else.”

“That's not good enough,” Blake said. “I know someone. He’s a private detective.”

“A private detective can’t do anything,” Ivy said with a shake of her head.

“He can follow this creep around. He can get information, prove this jerk is harassing you.”

Ivy didn’t say anything. She and her father had tried everything. They had talked to the police, the FBI, the Federal Marshals, everyone. But Darryl almost never broke the actual law. There was nothing to catch him with, nothing to charge him for.  But it made people feel good to try and help. So she didn’t stop Blake when he made the phone call.

He went into his bedroom and she could hear his muffled voice through the wall. She could hear him offering names and details. She wished he wouldn’t. Fighting Darryl was like trying to fight the wind. It was pointless. All you could do is lean into it and hope it passed over you without destroying anything.

A few minutes later he came back out and sat down on the couch next to Ivy. “What did he-”

“No,” Ivy cut him off. “I don’t want to talk about Darryl anymore. We weren’t even together that long. There’s not even that much to talk about. I don’t want him to ruin today, or last night. I want to forget about him for just a little while.”

“Okay,” Blake said quietly as he took his place next to Ivy on the couch and she, again, leaned into him.

She finished her coffee and put the empty cup on the coffee table. Blake wrapped his arms around her and she knew he still had a million questions about Darryl, but she appreciated that he was letting them be for the moment.

“We have to go back home this weekend,” Ivy said with a sigh. “Do me a favor and let’s not talk about this. Whatever it is. When we go home, can we pretend like nothing happened?”

“I hate pretending,” Blake said. “I don’t want to lie about this. Lying about it make it seems like we're doing something wrong. We’re both adults. We can be together if we want.”

“Our parents have a lot going on right now. This will only add to their stress. I’m not asking you to lie. I’m just asking you to keep it private.”

“For how long?”

“I don’t know,” Ivy said. She untangled herself from Blake and turned to look at him. He was wearing a wife beater and a pair of sweatpants and his hand was still on her arm as if he couldn’t bear to be separated from her. “How long are we going to do this?” she asked, gesturing between the two of them, wishing she had a better way to ask that question.

“For as long as we can manage it, I hope,” Blake said with a smile. “Are you seeing anyone else?”

“No,” Ivy admitted. She hadn’t been in a relationship since Darryl. Every time she met someone new, Darryl would pop back up with some new insane act and Ivy never knew how to explain him to anyone. The few men who knew about him always had this suspicion that, somehow, Ivy had forced Darryl to do this. They kept asking her what she had done to set him off and none of them believed her when she told them her only crime was breaking up with him.  “What about you?” Ivy asked.

“I’m not seeing anyone seriously,” Blake said.

“What does that mean?”

“I have a few friends who I spend time with, sometimes,” Blake answered and Ivy rolled her eyes and shook her head.

“Friends with benefits?” Ivy asked.

“Exactly.”

“Oh...” She didn’t want him to have anyone else in his life. She didn’t want to have to compete with anyone else for his company. She wanted him to be only with her.

“But if I were with you, I wouldn’t have a reason to call them anymore,” Blake said. He took Ivy’s hand in his own and stroked her knuckles with his thumb.

She closed her eyes and focused on the sensation of his hand on hers. Blake had always been good with his hands. “Good,” Ivy said. “I don’t want you to be with anyone else other than me.”

“Good,” Blake answered.

But they still hadn’t defined what they were. Were they a couple in a serious relationship, or were they just looking for a good time? Ivy didn’t know. It had been so easy to fall back into a relationship with Blake. He was so confident and sexy and Ivy finally admitted how much she had missed him over the last few years. But they were going to be stepsiblings soon. Could they really do this? Really be in a relationship with each other? Ivy was worried about what people would say while knowing she really shouldn’t care. Blake was right; they were both adults and they were capable of making this decision. But how would Ivy explain their relationship to an outsider without incurring any judgment?

“I don’t want you to worry about your safety,” Blake whispered as he pulled her close to her. “I don’t want you to worry about this Darryl guy. I won’t let him scare you anymore. He harasses you, I’ll harass him.”

“No, Blake,” Ivy said. “His parents have so much money. If you lay a hand on him they’ll throw you in jail and he’ll walk.”

“Don’t you worry about me,” Blake said. “I’m not the same kid I was in high school. I don’t get into fights anymore unless I’m in the arena and I’m getting paid for it. But I’m not going to stand by and let this guy terrorize you. Let’s see what my private investigator says and we’ll take it from there.”

Ivy sighed and relaxed back on the couch while Blake stood to refill her coffee. Blake would handle it. She had to admit, it would be nice for someone else to handle this. She was tired of it: the constant complaints to the police, trying to explain what Darryl was doing and why it was wrong. Her father did his best to help, but she was terrified of something happening to him. Blake was different; he was young and a fighter. Maybe with him in the ring the fight could finally turn in her favor.

Chapter Fifteen

Ivy was in the passenger seat and every time Blake glanced at her, she was staring out the window. “Did anything else happen with Darryl?” Blake asked.

“No, nothing,” Ivy said, turning to him and giving him a smile.

Blake smiled back and tried not to wince. His face was still sore and swollen from the fight, but it looked better than it had the other day. He turned his attention back to the road and thought back to earlier in the day. That morning, he had spoken with his private investigator, Ron. He had given him Darryl’s name the day before and had done some preliminary research. None of it was good. They met that morning at a diner in the outskirts of Seattle. Over cheap coffee Ron had laid it all out for him.

Darryl Linden was worth about six point seven million dollars. His family's fortune was about seven times that. They were a presence in the Seattle area. His family was on the board for the library, the art museum, the opera. They were everywhere all the time. They had donated to dozens of political campaigns and they had a lot of friends.

Darryl had a long list of arrests: trespassing, vandalism, harassment, but very few actual charges. There were many times when, for reasons not clear, someone chose not to file charges. Not Ivy, though. Every time she could bust him for something, she did. He had been arrested for harassing Ivy, stalking her, and trespassing on her father’s property. But in all of those cases he was let off with community service and a fine. There was no jail time and no real punishment. He didn’t even have a rap sheet. He pled out of all of his charges.

Darryl Linden was a real pretty boy. Blake had looked at half a dozen mug shots of Darryl’s smirking face. He was tall and thin with pronounced cheekbones a long, thin nose, and blond hair he brushed to the side. He never looked scared or worried, just smug.

Blake wanted to punch him. He wanted to ruin that smug prick’s face. He wanted to smash in his nose and split his lip. He wanted to show Darryl what it was like to be afraid. Blake thought it would be a good lesson for the spoiled little rich boy who liked to harass innocent women. He could imagine himself following Darryl, staying just a few feet behind him, making him more and more afraid with every step.

“You look very serious,” Ivy said from the passenger seat.

Blake didn’t want to tell her what he was thinking about. He knew she didn’t want him worrying about Darryl. If Ivy knew he was worried about Darryl, she would start to worry about Blake on top of worrying about Darryl and then he would worry more about Ivy and it would spin out of control. This was what Darryl wanted: to ruin Ivy’s life. He wanted her to never be happy. So Blake smiled at her instead.

“I’m worried about not being able to keep my hands off you,” he said, reaching across the seat and grabbing Ivy’s hand. He rested their hands on her knee and she seemed to lighten up upon their contact.

“Don’t even joke,” Ivy warned. “Whatever this thing we’re doing is, it needs to stay between us. We can’t go upending our parents’ lives when we don’t even know what we’re doing. We’re just trying this out right now, and I’m still not sure about this.”

Blake, again, stayed quiet. Ivy might not have been sure about this, but he was. He had never met anyone like her. No woman had ever made him feel like she did. Ivy didn’t automatically find him charming; she didn’t always laugh at his jokes. Ivy saw through all his bluster to see the boy hiding underneath the man’s clothes. She knew him in a way no other person in the world did.

He didn’t like that she might have that same connection with someone else. Had it been like that with Darryl? Did he love Ivy the same what that Blake did? Did Darryl think about Ivy at the time, did he imagine conversations between the two of them like Blake did? It didn’t matter. It didn’t make Darryl right or Ivy wrong. It made Blake grateful for what he had. It also reminded Blake that he was nothing like Darryl. When he and Ivy had broken up, Blake hadn’t harassed her or stalked her. He had tried to call her, but after enough times, he got the message and left her alone. Why couldn’t Darryl do that?

He didn’t like the idea of Ivy with anyone else. He hated it. She was so beautiful and special and no one that deserved her, not even him. He couldn’t stand the idea of this spoiled little rich boy punishing Ivy and threatening her. He needed to do something, needed to protect Ivy no matter what the price was.

They pulled into Jonas’ driveway and, as if on cue, both parents stepped out onto the front porch and waved at them. Ivy pulled her hand free of Blake’s and waved back. They stepped out of the car and onto the pavement and then, together, walked into the house where dinner was waiting for them.

Blake slept alone in the bed in the guest bedroom. Ivy was so close, but so far away. He yearned for her, wanted her. So why couldn’t he have her? She was less than ten steps away from him. Why should he wait to go to her? He tossed and turned in his bed; he flipped over his pillow, but his eyes were still open and he was still wide-awake.

He sat up as the door creaked open. For a moment, his eyes searched in the darkness trying to make out the shape. It took him a second to realize that right there standing pale in the moonlight was Ivy.

She silently closed the door behind her and hurried over to the bed jumping under the covers with him. “Hi,” she whispered.

“Hi,” he responded. He felt like he wanted to laugh. How many times had they done this in high school, one of them in the other’s bed, staying silent so their parents wouldn’t hear anything? Without waiting Blake rolled over until he was hovering over Ivy.

“I couldn’t sleep,” she whispered.

“Me neither,” he answered as he leaned over to kiss her.

She kissed him back, her hands running through his hair and tracing figures up and down his back. Her hands reached down and cupped his ass and his erection grew harder from the attention. He quickly pulled off her pajamas and threw them on the floor.

He smiled down at her and began to kiss his way down her stomach. He retreated under the covers as his hands moved between her legs spreading them open. He finally settled between her and he gently kissed her and he heard her give a quiet gasp.

He slipped his tongue between her folds and Ivy’s hand found its way to his hair and she held onto him. He found her clit almost instantly and he began to run his tongue over it in slow, dedicated swirls. Her body writhed beneath him and she whimpered quietly as he grabbed her legs tighter and pulled her closer. Her body was tense and shaking from his attentions and he knew it wouldn’t be long now. He sped up his tongue and he reached up and massaged her breast underneath her shirt as she grabbed his hand.

“Blake!” It came out a ragged whisper and he pressed her clit with his tongue as he felt her body tense and then orgasm and she shook underneath him until she finally stopped. She lay splayed out on the bed, gasping for breath. “I missed that,” Ivy said, her eyes still closed as Blake rested his head on her shoulder.

Blake’s cock was hard and ready and the sight of the naked Ivy lying in bed next to him was driving him to distraction. He reached for his bag and quickly unwrapped a condom, unrolling it over his cock. “Come here,” Blake said.

She was flat on her back and Blake rolled over until he was on top of her. She was wet and ready for him and with one stroke he pushed himself inside of her and Ivy gasped and bit down on his shoulder to avoid making any noise.

“God, I missed you,” he whispered as he began to thrust in and out of her.

She moved with him, her hips rocking underneath. She kept up with his pace as she ran her hands up and down his chest. But he wanted to see her come. He wanted to hear her whisper his name as she came with him still inside of her.

“Touch yourself,” he whispered into his ear. He felt as her hand snaked between the two of them and then he could feel her fingers as they brushed against his cock.

Her breath and hips sped up and she was whispering the word yes over and over again in his ear. “Blake,” she whispered, and he prayed that they were being quiet enough because nothing was going to make them stop now.

He felt as her body again tensed underneath him; he looked her in the eye and watched as her orgasm exploded around her and, with one final thrust, everything went white as he finished and collapsed on top of her. “God, that was good,” Blake said, as he pulled himself off of Ivy.

“Yeah,” she whispered with a laugh. “We are truly fucked.”