Chapter 22

I groan and roll over, expecting to find Ivan, but his side of the bed is empty. It’s still warm, so he can’t have been gone long. I stretch my arms above my head, and my back cracks and pops. The renovation has been going on for three weeks now, resulting in more jobs than I initially planned, but while the place is getting gutted, it makes sense to do it properly. The bedroom door opens, and Ivan comes in with a cup of coffee in each hand and a box of what looks like painkillers between his teeth.

I sit up, wincing at the pain in my back, and accept the cup he offers me. He takes the box out of his mouth and hands it to me. “Take some of those. They will help.”

“Thanks, babe. I’m just stiff, that’s all. It’s been a long time since I did this much manual labour. I’ll do some stretches before I do anything else.”

“Ooh, stretches. My favourite. Can I watch?” Ivan waggles his eyebrows, puts his cup on the side table, and gets back into bed. “The Forestry Commission has offered me some more work. Not for as long as last year, maybe six weeks. What do you reckon?”

This is a surprise. Why would he ask my opinion? This is work for him and probably pays better than the individual work he can get here. Although he works with Merlin a lot, and I can see them doing more of that in the future. “Do you want to do it?”

“My bank account would like it, but it’s not essential.” He shrugs non-committally, not giving me any clue what he wants to do.

“If you want to go and the money would be good, you should do it. This is your job, Ivan. You don’t need my approval. I’ll miss you, but I know you enjoy working with them. When do they want you to start?”

“As soon as I want. It’ll be in the south-west this time, so not so much travelling. I could probably be home a few nights a week.” He nudges me gently in the side. “I don’t think I can stay away from you for too long, baby.”

“Sounds like a good idea, then. My place should be finished by the time you’re done, and it will be summer. Maybe we could take a holiday.” I take a sip of my coffee and lean over to kiss him.

“If things get too messy in the farmhouse, you can stay here and have all the hot water you need.” He kisses me back.

We finish our coffees, and Ivan goes downstairs to call his mate back and accept the offer. I do as I said and get some stretches done. After laying the screed over the underfloor heating pipework, I felt every vertebra creak as I stood up. Luckily, I’ve got a yoga class tonight, not HIITT, so I have the perfect excuse to work on my spine.

I’m in the shower when Ivan walks into the bathroom, drops his sweats, and steps in behind me. He rests his hand on my shoulders, then travels down my back over my shoulder blades and down to my arse. As he cups it, he sighs.

“This arse is a work of art,” he murmurs in my ear and kneads my cheeks. “I can never get enough of it.”

I push back into his hands, groaning as a thick finger slips down the crease to my hole. He doesn’t touch me there. Instead, he drags his finger back up again and pulls the cheeks apart. His mouth is on me, and a shudder runs through my body. This has become one of my favourite things. I’ve gone from embarrassment to a wanton slut as soon as his tongue touches my hole.

“God, yes. God, don’t stop,” I cry out. He circles my pucker with his finger, and the tip slips inside while his tongue laves the skin around it. In moments, I’m riding his face, desperate for more and deeper until he pulls away and the blunt head of his cock nudges my loosened hole. “God, yes, fuck me, fuck me now.”

As he breeches my entrance, which is not as stretched as usual, it burns, but I love it. I wiggle my arse, getting him to slide deeper inside, and he pops past the muscle.

“God, you’re so tight, so hot. This is my happy place, right here inside you.” Ivan’s voice is strained as he holds himself back while I fully adjust. He pulls back, only to surge deeper again.

“Stop messing about and fuck me,” I moan as he withdraws again.

With a snap of his hips, he thrusts hard, sinking balls deep and forcing a ragged cry from my lips. I press my forearms to the wall as Ivan grips my hips. His fingers will probably cause bruises, but I don’t care. His shaft pounds up against my prostate, and sparks flash through my body to my balls, lighting them up like dynamite. My orgasm is simultaneous and hands-free as I shoot rope after rope of spunk over the tiles.

As I clamp around him, Ivan stiffens, then comes hard, crying out my name. He slumps against me and presses kisses over my shoulder and neck. “I love you,” he whispers and slowly pulls out. It stings, but it’s so worth it.

Ivan twists me around to face him, a cocky smile on his face. “Hands-free?”

“Yeah, yeah. You’re that good.” I laugh.

We finally stop touching each other and manage to wash up and get out.

“What did your mate say?” I scrub my hair with my towel, then wrap it around my waist.

“He was thrilled I accepted his offer. This gig is an easy one. I won’t have to travel far again. As long as I don’t mind the early mornings, I’ll be able to come most nights.”

He smiles broadly. Has he been bored being here all the time? He’s happily helped at the house and worked with Merlin, but he’s excited to do this. So why doesn’t he work for the Forestry Commission permanently?

Ivan is back in the bedroom, opening drawers and pulling on his underwear. He has such a great body, all lean and long. The few tattoos he has are cool tribal designs in black ink, reminding me of waves, the sea. Maybe that’s what they are. He does love the water. He and Drew have already been out surfing, but for me, it’s still too cold to try.

“How come this isn’t a full-time job for you?” I open my bag and rummage through it for some clean clothes. “I’m going to have to grab some more clothes unless I can use your washing machine.”

“Have at it. I’ve got some to go in too.” He pulls up his jeans. I lament the loss of his tight arse being on display. “And to answer your question, I like to spend my summers here. I teach surfing during the school holidays. So I bank what I can throughout the winter and surf and get the odd work here and there.”

I shouldn’t be surprised. He’s talked enough about his summer activities and the fun he’s had over the years. Will he feel trapped this summer? He’s used to his hook-ups and holiday fucks. Will I be enough, or will his eyes stray when the other surfers flock here for the weekend waves?

I dismiss the thoughts as soon as they pop up. Why would he cheat on me? He’s been open about his reasons for being single so long. I have to trust him and myself to be enough for him.

“Hey, what’s going on? You’ve gone all frowny.” He cups my face and kisses me sweetly. “You’re my everything, baby. Nothing’s going to change that.”

Why does that feel ominous?