“Ivy-”
“Go fuck yourself. Or Blaine, I honestly don’t even care.”
And then I’m gone, storming down the hallway.
I take the elevator to my floor, grabbing my things from my room and shoving them in my overnight bag.
I don’t even stop to change.
And then it’s down to the lobby, out the front door, and directly into a cab to North Station.
Because I’m not upset, and I’m not even that angry.
I’m just tired.
And I want to go home.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Ivy
The late train from North Station to Shelter Harbor is mostly empty. A few drunks, the odd late-shift waiter or bartender.
I get some strange looks at the black and sequined cocktail dress I’m still wearing, but I don’t care. I’m tired, I’m drained, and inside my head, I’m closing the Blaine chapter of my life with a satisfied click.
Because I’m going back to an earlier one - a better one.
I’m going home, and right now, I just want my husband.
I need my lighthouse.
The cab driver I get at the Shelter Harbor train station gives me s strong look when I have him drop me off at the docks, but I pay it no mind. I slip off my high heels and walk barefoot down the pier, listening to the sound of the tide washing again the underside of the wooden docks.
His houseboat is dark, but I know he’s there.
I climb over the side and slowly open the door to the cabin. I watch him for a moment as he sleeps, his bare chest rising and falling in the glow of the moon. The dress slips from my shoulders, pooling on the floor before I slip my panties down my legs to join it there.
There are no words, I just slide into bed with him, smiling as I find him as naked as I am under the thin sheet draped across his lower body. He stirs as my hands slide across his skin, turning to blink at me in surprise before I silence whatever he’s about to say with a kiss.
I pull away slowly to see him grinning at me with a curious look on his face.
“You’re back.”
I nod, and his brow suddenly knits.
“What’s wrong?”
I smile. “Nothing.” I lean into him again, kissing his lips.
“Nothing is wrong.”
“How’d it go?”
I roll my eyes. “What if we saved the talking until tomorrow.”
“I think I can work with that.”
And then there really are no words.
He pulls me into him, kissing me deeply as his hands trace down the small of my back. I melt into him, feeling his skin hot against mine in the humid summer evening air and feeling the throbbing hardness of his cock against my thigh.
His hands slide to my ass, pulling me hard against him, making me shiver as I feel him pulse there between my legs. Fingers slide across my ass, down further and deeper between my thighs. I lift one leg up and over his hip as his fingers trace across the dripping wet heat of my pussy, making me moan into his mouth.
We roll over as he pulls me on top of him. And before I can do anything, those strong, powerful and demanding hands of his are pulling me up his hard, inked body towards his lips and his tongue..
I whimper as he settles me onto his mouth, and when his tongue slides deep inside of me, I cry out. His hands hold me by the hips, pulling me tightly to his mouth as he slowly licks me - teasing me, tasting me, making me gasp as his tongue finds my clit. My hands slide up my own body, teasing over my breasts and pulling at my nipples before sliding up to my hair.
I toss my head back, letting my eyes close and letting him rock my hips against his mouth, letting myself melt as he fucks me with his tongue. He moves faster and faster, his tongue swirling around my clit sending lightening through my body. His hands slide around to my ass, gripping at the curves there, holding me to his mouth. He spreads me wide, and I whimper as I feel his finger tease around my ass as his tongue curls around my clit.
And when I come, it’s like a storm crashing against the shore. I cry out sharply, my hips bucking against his face and my body shattering as his tongue and his fingers drive me over the edge.
I’m still shaking - still gasping for air - when he rolls us over. He starts to reach for his bedside table, but I stop him, bringing him down to kiss him fiercely instead.
“Just you,” I whisper, feeling insane and crazy, and drink off my desire for him.
“I want to feel you like we did that time.”
“That time” being the time frantic and panting making out in the cab of his truck led to clothes being pulled from sweaty bodies, only to realize there wasn’t a condom to be found.
The time I rode him bare - skin to skin and the notion of how risky it was only making it all the hotter.
I stroke his face as he hovers above me, my legs spread for him.