Unrequited(80)

The small touch was all the encouragement Ivy needed. She crumpled against Winter who didn't hesitate to fold her arms around her sister.

“I’m so sorry,” Ivy sobbed, saying the words over and over.

Winter rocked her, swaying back and forth. I pushed off the fender to make my way over but caught a glimpse of color out of the corner of my eye. Mom. She stood by the side door, shaking her head. Forcing myself backward, I settled my ass against the metal again.

“It’s going to be all right,” Winter crooned.

“Do you really believe that?”

“With all my heart. Donovan pinkie promise.” Winter pushed back and offered her right pinky toward Ivy. Ivy looped her own little finger through Winter's and then the two sisters hugged for a long time. After a while, Mom walked over and drew Ivy away and into the house.

I waited while Winter made her way toward me and into the truck.

"You truly okay with this?" I asked as we drove back into the city.

"Yes, I really am. I mean, it's a little weird that your mother is almost adopting Ivy, but having her out there with your mom is a huge relief. It was really hard to walk away from Ivy, even though her sponsor, Margo, told me it was for the best. Are you okay with what your mom did? Holy shit, and what about selling O'Malley Construction?"

“Mom screwed up. I’m chalking it up to her depression and not let it ruin our day.” I squeezed her hand. “As for the sale of the company? While having Ivy admit I'm not the father of Ivy's kid was the best news of the morning, that was definitely the second best news. I don't want to build eight-story multiuse buildings. I like finding one house and fixing it up. You going to be okay with being with a guy who just flips houses for a living?"

She curled her legs under her and pushed over the console to kiss me on the cheek. "I'd be okay if you delivered beer or worked in a factory or cleaned toilets for a living. I just want to be with you. That's all I've ever wanted since I was fourteen."

I grabbed her hand and pressed a kiss to it, wishing I wasn't driving, wishing we were home. "I love you."

"I love you, too." Her eyes shined as she said those words.

And I couldn't drive another mile. I swerved to the right and down a gravel path. She unbuckled her seatbelt and scrambled over the console while I rid myself of seatbelt and shorts and slid my seat back as far as it could go. Her hands were on me, rolling down a condom before I took my next breath.

As she straddled me, I guided myself into her wet heat. My heartbeat thundered about a thousand miles a minute as she rode me. One of her hands pressed against the window, and the other gripped the headrest. My hands were squeezing the hell out of her ass, moving her up and down my shaft.

"This is just like the first time," she gasped.

And it was. That first night after we'd left the café, I'd taken her hand and pulled her to my truck. She would say she kissed me first, but I had brought her to my truck for the express purpose of feasting on the red lips that had formed those words of understanding and comfort. I wanted her that night like I'd never wanted another woman, and I felt the same now.

Her beautiful tits were covered, which was a damn shame, so I wrenched her shirt open and impatiently pushed aside the fabric until her fat nipples made an appearance. I latched on to one, and her hands came to clutch my head.

I flicked one nipple and then the other with my tongue, chasing back and forth as she moved rhythmically up and down my cock.

It was like the first time, only a million times better because I loved her and she loved me, and the orgasm that barreled down my spine shook me apart. I kept thrusting even after I'd come because she hadn't yet. I reached between our bodies, found her tiny clit and rubbed. Her muscles clenched around me, her whole body stiffened, and I heard her cry out, the sound slightly muffled when she shoved her chest in my face. Her arms were like vises around my head.

I held her tightly while the aftershocks of her orgasms rippled through her. Her arms released me, and she curled into my lap like a kitten. I pulled off the condom and wadded it into a bunch of leftover drive-through napkins I'd had stored in the center console.

Then I put my head back and enjoyed holding her. In the front seat of my truck. Just like that first time.

"Come home with me?" I whispered. I’d asked that question before, so many times, and been told no because of her sister.

This time, though, the answer was different. "Yes, please."

She climbed off, and I pulled my shorts up.

"You ripped the buttons off my shirt," she said, lifting a side of her shirt in each hand.

"I'll buy you a new one." I eyed the torn blouse with smug satisfaction.