Chapter Twenty-Two Wade

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Wade

I blink, and Ivy gulps beside me. I smile at the young girl.

"There must be some mistake," I say politely. "I booked two rooms—two adjoining kings."

More clicking through various screens on the clerk's side of the counter are deafening, as my heart hammers in my chest while I search for my reservation on my phone.

"I'm sorry … it's only my second day. I can get a manager … but, Mr. Ashby, I only see one room here and we're booked completely full through Monday. We'd be happy to comp you the night for the inconvenience."

The thought of sleeping in my truck in the parking garage passes through my mind. I've slept in worse places. A few more minutes of the same before she's looking up at me with nervous eyes and no way to rectify the loss of the second room.

"It's fine, she can take it," I say. My words calm the flustered girl, I pass her a twenty-dollar bill for her trouble, then turn to nod at Ivy to assure her I won't try to stay with her—or worse, that I planned this. But the moment I face Ivy her hand darts out and rests on my forearm. Her violet eyes full of confidence.

" We'll take it," she says in a tone that tells me her mind is set. I open my mouth to protest but she shakes her head and mouths quietly, "It's fine."

It's nowhere near fine. It's the furthest thing from fine, but for some reason I don't disagree. I nod back at her.

One room? One fucking bed? Yep, I'm fucked. Fucked like an alcoholic trying to withstand his own personally crafted bottle of one-hundred-year-old bourbon.

When he hasn't had water in days.

In a desert.

On a midsummer afternoon.

Fucked.

I look up at the ceiling as the elevator door closes and we're alone in the small space. My hands are balled into fists as I restrain myself. I speak to push my dirty thoughts from what the idea of sharing a room, of sharing a bed, with Ivy is doing to me.

"I think we both have a goal here and—" She turns to face me, her eyes stunning me as they focus on every inch of my face, saving my lips for last. "I want to do my best for you. I want to be focused on training," she mutters, as if she's trying to convince herself too. The only problem is I am not even listening to her because her gorgeous eyes render me stupid.

"Fuck, I didn't plan this room thing," I retort as the elevator doors open. "I hope you know I would never put you in this position," I continue as I hold the keycard over the sensor.

"Of course I know that, Wade."

I push into the room and maneuver around the massive king-size bed that seems to be screaming at us from the center of the room, like a neon sign is hanging overhead that says "Incredible fucks happen here."

"I'll sleep on the sofa. Christ, I'll sleep in the bathtub, Ivy, if it will make you feel comfortable."

The air is so thick between us you could cut it with a knife, but because this damn woman never ceases to surprise me, she starts laughing. Not a little chuckle or giggle, an all-out, no sound exiting her body as she drops to the bed and tears form in her eyes laugh. When she is finally able to breathe, her laugh fills the air like a clear sound and it's so contagious that I start to laugh too, but I have no idea why we're even laughing. I can't stop, I'm right there with her as her hand covers her beautiful smile while she catches her breath.

"All you try to do is keep total control and … they put us in … they put us in the same room, with one … with one … bed?" She laughs hysterically for a few more minutes, then wipes the tears from her eyes. My cheeks hurt from laughing along with her; the irony isn't lost on me either. I drop to the small sofa across from the bed.

Ivy stands and moves toward me. I breathe her in as she pats a hand to my face, her knee brushing against the inside of my thigh, and I wage an internal battle with myself not to slide my hands up the backs of her thighs.

"I know what we need."

Fuck.

"We have a full day of viewing tomorrow and the auction after that. We'll be working all weekend. We should have some fun too. We're going out on the town; it's not even dinnertime but fuck, I could really use a drink and I'm sure you could too. I'll have a quick shower, I'll be ready in a half hour," she says as she flips her suitcase open on the bed, and I catch my breath.

To no one's surprise, a few rogue scrunchies tumble out. Of course she would need twenty different colors and patterns for a three-day trip.

Ivy pulls some things out then disappears into the bathroom to freshen up, her long shimmery hair cast over her shoulder as she goes.

I should do a number of things. I should sleep in my truck tonight, I should get my shit together and realize that if we're both going to stay focused through this, I have to push past this little crush. But because I know I have to endure the whole weekend with her, I pick up one of her scrunchies off the bed and bring it to my nose, breathing in the scent of her. I'm like some kind of a fucking animal when it comes to this woman, and I wait for the shower to start running in the bathroom.

Without a thought in my head, other than I need to fucking cum now , I unbuckle my jeans and pull my already rock-hard cock out. I wrap the soft, blue satin scrunchie, the exact color of her eyes, around my dick and then I spit generously into my palm. The depraved side of me takes over as I close my eyes. The silky fabric encompasses me as I begin stroking my cock with it. An unmatched fervor takes hold, a part of her wrapped around me, it's too much to bear.

I fist myself in quick, intentional pulls while I imagine nothing but her incredible body in that shower only ten feet from me, hot water dripping over her perfect tits down to the taut skin of her waist, and further still to the sweet little berry I want to suck between my teeth at the apex of her thighs. I would fucking worship her, I would spread her plump ass apart in front of me while I watched my cock fuck into her sweet soaking cunt over and over.

My eyes screw shut as a sort of haze lines my vision. " Fuck ," I mutter, gripping the edge of the wall with my free hand as I give a final tug before spilling myself all over my hand and her scrunchie.

I take a minute to recover and listen to hear that the water is still running in the bathroom. I blow out a shaky breath.

It's official. I have fucking lost it. I need a fucking drink, and this scrunchie?

Well, that's definitely fucking mine now.