Lust (14 page)

My grip on her tightened as I pulled her body impossibly closer. I could feel the heat from her chest against mine and it caused me to catch my breath. “Is this what it feels like to be in love?” I hadn’t meant to ask that. I was only going to answer her question, say something about feeling sexy, but somewhere between my brain and my mouth, the words changed.

It startled me and I froze, but Ivy kept moving, not paying any attention to the inner turmoil that filled me. With her lips so close to my ear and her fingers playing with the back of my hair, I couldn’t focus on shit. I couldn’t keep my mind centered on one thing. She was intoxicating me, more so than the liquor that seemed to have evaporated out of my system.

“I don’t know; what does it feel like?” she asked. Her voice had me imagining that she asked it with her eyes closed and her bottom lip between her teeth like some women do when trying to be seductive. I was pretty sure that’s not what she was doing, but it was all I could think about.

Again, the signals that my brain were sending to my mouth had misfired. I didn’t want to answer her question. I didn’t want to feed into the accidental question that lingered between us and muddled my brain. But I found myself answering anyway. “Like I want to hold onto you forever and never let you go. Like I want to feel your body against mine, skin against skin, until you’re etched into my every pore. I feel like I can’t breathe without your air and my heart doesn’t beat properly without mirroring yours.” There was so much more I could’ve said, but my brain decided to work and I stopped before the hole I had dug was too deep to pull myself out of.

Ivy pulled her face away from mine and searched my eyes in the dark room. Her hands moved from my hair to my cheeks before pulling my face down, meeting my lips with hers. I was paralyzed and couldn’t find the strength to do anything other than let her lead. It went against everything in me to let her, or anyone, have that much control, but I was hopeless to do anything about it.

Our bodies stopped moving as her lips took hold of mine, gently searing my skin until my entire body felt like it was burning from the inside out. I took in a deep breath just as she parted her lips, moving her tongue into my mouth, giving me a taste of her. I was gone, completely and wholly lost in her. Normally, I would have taken over by this point. I would have pressed into her, consumed her mouth, and given her all I had, but the fear of pushing her too far kept me from doing so. For the first time in my life, I felt like a domestic animal, content with being owned.

Her tongue manipulated mine, my hands groped her sides, her arms wrapped around my neck like a boa constrictor, and our bodies pressed hard into one another. I was lost in her, in all of her. From the scent of her skin to the taste of her tongue, from the feel of her body to the breathless sounds she made, I was lost. I needed her. I needed her more than she needed me, and that realization gutted me.

My want took over as my hands moved south, pawing at her ass through the thin material. My mouth turned greedy, hastily taking charge of her growing advances. My senses were on overload, blocking out everything else, including the ability to know right from wrong. I pressed my hips into her, the only part of my body I had been keeping away from hers. I felt myself grind into her lower stomach, ignoring the alarms and whistles faintly sounding in my brain.

I heard a deep intake of air and then felt Ivy push away from me. Her eyes were wide and darting all around the room. Her hand landed on her chest as I watched it heave up and down, pressing her small breasts out before letting them fall, over and over again. I didn’t dare take my eyes away from her to see what she was looking at. I could only stand there and try to catch my breath as much as I possibly could. But it was impossible. Ivy Jaymes had stolen my breath. Her presence had created a vacuum around me, leaving me with a lack of sufficient oxygen. Her panicked expression had me feeling anxious, scared, fearful of what she would do. I didn’t want her to run. But if she did, I would chase after her until my legs were too numb to carry me further.

That’s when her eyes met mine and her face softened in the dark room. The little bit of light from above danced on her face enough for me to see an expression that almost looked worried. I didn’t understand it; why was she looking at me that way? Why was she staring at me as if I had been the one to push her away?

And then I felt it… the sticky layer of dew on my neck. Once I was aware of that, my brain became aware of everything else—the spot on my shirt between my shoulder blades that felt wet and stuck to my back, the short, desperate gasps of air, and the dark room that seemed darker than before.

Ivy grabbed my face and started talking, but I couldn’t hear what she was saying. Her lips were moving but the words were drowned out by the muted music around us. She must’ve sensed my confusion because she started to motion with her hands and mouth to breathe. I repeated what she was doing, taking in deep breaths and slowly feeling myself calm down.

That was the second panic attack in two weeks, both times were around Ivy. I knew she wasn’t the reason they came on, but I couldn’t help but think I wouldn’t have had them had she not been with me. At the same time, I didn’t want to think what would have happened had she not been there both times. Was she the cause or was she the cure?

She didn’t ask a single question or hesitate for one moment. Instead, she grabbed my hand and pulled me off the dance floor where my feet had been planted, pulling me through the crowds until we were outside. We stopped outside of the door and she looked at me, smiling weakly. I couldn’t pull my thoughts together enough to speak or do anything to give her comfort; so, instead, I walked her back to my car.

Once inside, I quickly unbuttoned my shirt and pulled it off my shoulders, throwing it behind me into the back seat before turning the air on high until my skin prickled in goose bumps. My head dropped into my hands as I tried to process everything. However, the only thing running through my mind was how Ivy was feeling. It was the only thing I cared about. Had I scared her off? Had I done too much? Had I ruined everything? Was she frightened because of what happened between us or because of my panic attack? I worried that she was seeing the real me, the unstable man with issues that dated back to one weekend twenty-seven years ago. The man I kept hidden away, even from myself. The one that rejected any kind of real feelings by erecting a wall of protection that could reach the sky, the one that harbored so much darkness it could cover the earth in a blackout.

“Cade…” Ivy cautiously rested her hand on my bare shoulder. “Talk to me.”

I picked my head up and turned to her. “Why?” I asked quietly, my entire body shaking. What was happening to me? Why was I shaking so badly? I didn’t feel cold. And why was I asking her that? Normally, I would’ve already given an excuse or ignored the words completely. Why was I giving her the chance to question me more?

“What happened back there? What was that? Are you okay?” She sounded so sincere and worried and I wasn’t sure how to handle that. It wasn’t as if no one had shown me worry before—I’d had enough of that as a young child—but there was something in her eyes that begged me to tell her. It begged me to open up and allow her in.

“You took my breath away, Ivy. It’s as simple as that. I told you I couldn’t breathe if I didn’t have your air. You took it away from me.” I was flirting with her, sure, but on some level, I was expressing the truth. I just didn’t want her to know that. I wanted her to think we were still roleplaying, that I was merely playing a part.

She moved her eyes to the windshield, suddenly growing smaller in her seat, withdrawing. It took me by surprise because ever since she kissed me on the dance floor, she had shown a level of confidence I had never witnessed before. She took charge when she needed to get me out of there and showed honest compassion when asking if I was okay. Where did that woman go? I needed her back.

“Are you okay?” I asked, turning the question on her.

She nodded and then focused on her twisting hands in her lap. “I think it’s time to go home.”

“I’m not done yet,” I stated, earning her attention.

“What are we going to do now?”

I smiled and messed with the temperature controls until it was no longer blowing freezing air through the vents. “You were confident in there. Do you realize that? You were strong, and in control, and sexy as hell. You took charge and you didn’t freak out. But now… now you’re back to twisting your hands together and barely looking at me. What happened, Ivy? Where did you go?”

She wiped her nose with the back of her hand and I could see how shaky it was. “I don’t know. Maybe it was because I was pretending to be someone else. And then you needed me and my empathy just took over.”

“Then why can’t you just pretend to be someone else while you’re having sex?”

She shrugged her shoulders and dropped her eyes again. “I can’t. Back there, I wasn’t naked, no one was looking at me. You weren’t touching me—”

“Yes I was. I had my hands all over you.”

“But not like
that
.”

I turned my body so that I was facing her. The only light in the car was from the screen on the dash and even that was dim. I could see her outline and where she was looking, but other than that, it was too dark to see anything.

“Touch yourself,” I blurted out, not caring how it sounded. I was desperate for the brave and self-assured girl back. My words caused her to stiffen in her seat and I could hear the air she sucked in but never heard it release. “Ivy, it’s dark in here, no one can see you. Just put your hands in your pants and touch yourself.”

Ivy’s eyes were wide and bright in the dim light of the car as she looked at me with horror. “I… can’t, Cade. No. I’m not touching myself, especially in front of you.” Her defiance was set in her tone.

“Have you touched yourself like I told you to last week?”

She shook her head instead of verbally answering.

“Do it, Ivy. I want to see you.” I knew I sounded like a breathless pervert so I shook my head and started again. “I want to make sure you can do it. No one will ever be able to touch you if you can’t touch yourself. It’s nothing more than exploring. Just reach below the waistband of your pants and lay your hand on yourself.”

I watched as she slowly and nervously did as she was told. Her breathing had picked up and echoed around me, coming out in shaky pants, not because she was aroused, but because she was frightened and fearful. I could tell that by the look of uncertainty on her face.

Once her hand was in place, I instructed her to move it, but she didn’t. She kept it still with her eyes wide ahead of her. “Okay, just keep it there until you’re comfortable. Take slow and even breaths. If you have to look out the window or close your eyes, then do it. Pretend you’re someone else, somewhere else. Do whatever you have to do in order to find comfort with your hand there.”

She leaned her head back and closed her eyes, taking in one full, deep breath through her nose. After a few moments, her body began to relax and her breathing evened out. “Okay, now what?” she asked with her head still tilted back and her eyes remaining closed.

“Move your fingers around. Try it side to side and then in a circle.”

My eyes were trained on her lap, watching things I couldn’t see. Her hand started moving, but it was very slow, almost timid. I told her to try it a little faster, and then even faster, feeling my pants become tight as they stretched across the bulge in my lap. I had watched countless clients masturbate before, and all of them had been naked in the process, yet I had never become fully aroused. I had never had to fight the urge to do something about it. I used to pride myself on my professionalism, yet with Ivy, I couldn’t help but turn into a horny teenager, salivating at the idea of touching her, seeing her,
feeling
her.

Her hand stopped abruptly and she turned to look at me, finally opening her eyes. I was so thankful for the lack of light; otherwise, she would have seen how much she affected me. “What is this supposed to do exactly? I mean, I know what it’s
supposed
to do, but why am I doing this?”

“For starters, you’re supposed to be comfortable with it. And the obvious, you’re supposed to find pleasure in it. Those are the two things you need in order to have sex. You need to be comfortable, with yourself and with the other person, and you need to find pleasure in it. If you don’t, then there’s no point in it. Sex is pleasurable, and it’s very hard to achieve that if you can’t achieve it on your own.” I was back to being the professional—at least I was in my voice… not so much in my pants.

“I can’t do this,” she said and pulled her hand free.

“Yes you can.”

“No… I can’t feel anything. I just feel gross and weird and ashamed.” Her voice started to shake as if she were on the verge of tears.

I bit the inside of my cheek, trying to refrain from acting on the thoughts in my head, but I couldn’t help it. “Do you trust me?” I asked her, biting out the words past the voices of reason that were begging me to stop. I ignored them and pushed forward, knowing this next step would be vital to her acceptance of herself. I watched her nod her head nervously. “I’m going to take you somewhere and show you what I mean. I need you to be open with me, okay? I need you to tell me what you’re feeling and when. Can you do that for me?”

“You can’t touch me,” she frantically said, running her words together.

“Do you trust me?” I asked again, only this time it was slower, calmer, and said in a way to reassure her.

“I mean, yes… I trust you. But you can’t touch me. Please…”

“Fine, I won’t touch you, but you will have to do what I say. You will have to listen to what I’m telling you and follow my directions explicitly. I just have to take you somewhere that’s a little bit easier to work in than this car. Do you understand?”

“Are you going to look at me?”

Her anxiety was evident in her voice, and hearing it caused my chest to constrict. The things she had been through as a child set real fear in her. It wasn’t an imagined fear; it wasn’t made up or false in her mind. It was very real, the same way monsters in dark closets are real for young children.

“No, Ivy. I won’t look at you,” I said with certainty.

“I don’t know if I can do this…”

I grabbed her hand and held it in her lap, waiting until her eyes met mine in the darkness. “Listen to me, Ivy. The woman that was with me on the dance floor inside, the one that kissed me and pressed her body against mine… that woman can do this. That woman can find pleasure and comfort in what I’m going to have you do. I know she’s in there. Find her and hold on.” I gave her hand a squeeze before releasing it and putting the car in gear.

I drove as fast as I could to my office. I knew she was curious as to why I was taking her there, but she never asked any questions. In fact, she never said anything. The only noise in the car was the faint music playing through the speakers. Normally, I would have found it too quiet, but I couldn’t think of anything other than Ivy and what we were going to do.

I was tiptoeing on the ethical line, teetering on both sides. We had been drinking and it was technically after business hours, even though in my line of work there was no such thing. It wasn’t a scheduled and planned exercise and I hadn’t discussed it with her before taking her there. But at the same time, I wasn’t doing this for me… I was doing it for her. At least that’s what I repeated to myself about a hundred times during the drive there.

Once we were inside, I walked her to the back room. It was about half the size of my office but only held a large massage table in the middle. Ivy looked at it timidly with her shoulders curled into herself. I knew I needed to explain, but I couldn’t stop staring at her.

“What is this, and what are we going to do?” Her voice came out breathless and made her words sound like short pants.

“This is where I move things to the next step.”

Her eyes widened on her face, looking large and scared. “Like sex?”

“I have sex in this room, yes. But that’s not what we are going to be doing tonight. I have patients that have difficulties achieving orgasms, and in order to help them, I give them a massage to allow their bodies and minds to relax. That was what I had intend to do with you.”

“You said you wouldn’t touch me,” she argued in a whisper.

“And I won’t. All I’m going to do is instruct you.”

“You said you wouldn’t look at me.”

“Ivy, you don’t have to take your underwear off and I have a sheet in case you want to cover with that. I don’t have to see what you’re doing to direct you. I can tell by the color of your skin, the way you’re breathing, and the movements in your body if you’re doing it right. You said you trusted me. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to.”

She nodded in defeat. I should have taken that as a sign and drove her home. Hell, I should have taken the entire night as a sign and ended after my panic attack, but I didn’t. Instead, I ignored all voices of reason, turned a blind eye to all of the signs, and brought her to the only bed I could have sex on, knowing that’s what had been on my mind all week.

I pulled a pillow and blanket from a small cabinet in the corner and handed it to her before walking out to give her some privacy. I told her I would give her three minutes to get comfortable and relax. I knew she wouldn’t do either, but at least I had given her a timeframe as to when I would come back in.

I knocked once and then opened the door. Ivy was lying on the table with her knees bent in the air, the sheet pulled up over her chest, and her hands covering her face. I could see she was still wearing her shirt, but her black leggings were folded on the small table in the corner. I grew hard just imagining what she looked like beneath that white sheet.

I dimmed the lights enough to calm her down, but not too much so that I couldn’t see her and walked to stand behind her head. The table was low so I knelt down to bring my face closer to hers. Her breathing was labored and her body was shaking; I knew she was scared and all I wanted to do was comfort her.

“Hey,” I whispered, resting my chin next to her head and placing a hand on her arm. “Talk to me. Tell me what you’re feeling.”

She released a long breath through pursed lips and let her arms fall to her sides, keeping her eyes trained on the ceiling tiles. “I don’t know what I’m feeling. My head is spinning and I think I might throw up.”

I let out a small laugh and then heard Ivy imitate it. “What do you wash your hair with?”

Her face turned to the side in order to see me. “Umm… Pantene. Why?”

“It smells good. Do you use shampoo and conditioner, or the two-in-one?”

Laughter danced in her eyes and a smirk played on her lips. “Shampoo and conditioner.”

I ran my index finger along her bottom lip. “Do you wash it every night?”

“I know what you’re doing, Cade.”

“You have no idea what I’m doing, Ivy.”

“You’re trying to distract me,” she said with a tone full of humor.

“How do you know I’m not trying to distract myself?”

Her smile fell as she studied my eyes. “Why would you need to do that?”

“Because of where you are. Because of what I’m about to have you do. And because it’s going to take everything in me to not take over and do it myself. Because since the club, all I’ve been able to think about is kissing you, feeling you, touching you. But you won’t let me touch you. And now I have to watch your eyes glaze over and your skin turn pink, and settle with the fact that it’s not me doing that to you.”

“Why do you want to touch me?”

I had her full attention by that point, but I needed a minute to compose myself before answering. “It’s not about touching you, Ivy. It’s about what touching you will do to you. It’s about the pleasure you’ll get from it… and I want to be the one to give that to you.”

“What if I get scared?”

“Then you tell me.”

“And you’ll stop?”

My heart rate sped up, causing my head to swim and leaving me dizzy. She was giving me permission to touch her. I hadn’t expected her to relent that soon, give in that fast. But I wasn’t about to argue with her. “I won’t ever do more than you’re comfortable with or more than I think you can handle. Don’t forget, you’re leading this… I’m merely following your directions, both verbal and nonverbal.”

“Wait.” She paused, breathing quickly. “What all are you going to be touching?”

“What do you mean?”

“Like… you’re going to touch me
there
, right?” she asked as her eyes gestured down her body and I nodded. “But where down there? What all are you going to do to me?”

Ah! I understood what she was asking me. “Ivy, all I’m going to do is touch you. I’m not going to put any part of my body inside of you. Understand? I won’t even go beneath your underwear; is that all right? If I stay on top of your underwear?”

A deep sigh escaped her. “Yes… that’s fine.”

I stood and moved to her side, sitting on the edge of the table next to her. With my hands on her kneecaps, I slowly slid her legs down until they were flat on the padded mattress. Her eyes closed tightly as she tried to calm herself; I could see the deep struggle within her. An overwhelming sense to calm her took hold and I began to lightly run my fingertips along the edges of her face, moving random strands of hair out of the way. I ran my finger up one cheek, over her forehead, down the center of her nose, and over her lips before repeating the step on the other side. Once I finished outlining her face, I trailed my finger lightly down her neck, over her collarbone, down one side of her arm and coming back up the other before crossing her chest to trace her other arm. Then I took my hand and gently ran it down the center of her chest, pausing at her cleavage where her shirt covered.

Her breathing had turned shallow, and it was then that I had realized mine was, too. I may have been touching her, but it seemed as though all of my senses were on high alert. I could hear the changes in her breathing as if she were exhaling into my ear. I could literally feel the goose bumps on her skin beneath my fingertips, and I could smell her arousal in the air like it was room spray.