The Perfect Ruin - Page 52

“Oh shit. Ivy!” He turned halfway, releasing a breath of relief. “You scared the hell out of me. What are you doing out here?”

“I couldn’t sleep, figured I’d come down for some air.”

“Ah.” He lowered his gaze, and that’s when he caught it. My breasts—his breasts—were on full display for him. He swallowed thickly and turned back around to face the pool.

“Yeah. When I drink, it’s hard for me to go right to sleep for some reason. That’s why I don’t drink much. Kind of throws off my sleep schedule.” I took a step forward and was standing right beside him.

“Yeah, tonight got a little awkward at times. Sorry about the whole thing in the hall with Lola. She can get carried away.” He paused. “Sometimes she drinks like she’s trying to suppress certain thoughts and feelings.” He shrugged and sipped the last of his drink. “I don’t know what’s up with her sometimes.”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to apologize for that. Does she always do it?” I asked. “I noticed she drinks every day and I didn’t know whether to be worried about that or not.”

“You noticed that too, huh?” He chuckled, low and deep, and it made me want him even more. He set down his empty glass on a nearby table. “She wasn’t always a big drinker. It started becoming heavier after her last . . . well, you know. But that was over ten years ago. I assume it still haunts her, though. She always tells me she doesn’t feel like a real woman. I think she’s just too hard on herself.”

“That she is.”

Corey sat on the edge of one of the chairs, dropping his face in his palms. “Apparently I’ve had too much to drink myself. I don’t even know why I’m telling you all this. I hardly know you. You probably think I’m crazy.”

I looked up, at the windows that were soft with gold light inside. No one was around. The cameras couldn’t see us from where we stood by the umbrellas.

“Well,” I murmured, taking a step closer to him, “maybe you can get to know me. You know, the same way Lola has.” He picked up his head and slowly dropped his hands, confusion seizing every single one of his features. I closed the gap between us, pressing him back by the shoulders so he was resting against the lounge chair. “But perhaps with more benefits.”

“Whoa—hold on, Ivy.” He pushed me back lightly, and I paused. “What the hell are you doing? Lola is upstairs—you’re her friend.”

“When is the last time she’s fucked you, Corey?” I demanded. He was pissing me off now, acting like he owed Lola the world.

“You’re drunk. You should sleep this off and—”

“Just answer my question.”

Corey swallowed visibly and shook his head. “What does that have to do with what you’re doing right now?”

“Lola hardly does a thing with you anymore. And you know how I know? Because she tells me. She doesn’t even remember the last time you two had sex. The way you act around other people when you’re together is just for show.”

“I love Lola.”

“Does she love you?” I countered. He dropped his head, but I lifted his chin back up, placing my knee down on the outside of his hips. I was closer now. “She thinks she owns you. That’s not love, Corey.”

“Ivy, this isn’t right. You should really go back upstairs—”

I’d had enough of his talking. I needed to kiss him.

Cupping the back of his head, I pressed my lips to his and then moaned, sinking down on top of his lap. I pushed him back again so that his back was on the chair, and then rocked my hips. He’d gotten rid of his blazer but was still wearing jeans, no belt. I felt his dick harden and twitch between my thighs as I kept grinding my hips.

He held his hands away, though, refusing to touch me, so I grabbed one of them and made him caress my ass until, eventually, I didn’t need to assist him. He was doing it all on his own.

“I can make you feel like a real man,” I breathed on his lips after breaking the kiss. I dropped a kiss on the crook of his neck, and he groaned. His dick throbbed. “I would let you fuck me whenever you want. Take me however you want. I would put you first. But . . .” I sighed, and gently sank my teeth into the lobe of his ear, “only if that’s what you really want.”

I faced him again, kissing him deeper this time, slower, so he could savor it, swirling my tongue around the inside of his mouth. His next groan was guttural, conjured from the base of his throat. Primal and hungry. He was straining in his pants now. That was all I would give, though. I couldn’t feed him too much at once.

Tags: Shanora Williams Thriller
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