Page 18 of Recovering Ivy

“Would you come willingly if I asked?”

“No,” she huffed. I raised my brow in answer. “You’re annoying.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“And you’re rude to your employees.”

“Heard that, too.”

I hit the button for the top floor and pushed my keycard into the slot, making the elevator lift.

“And you’re bossy.”

That was it.

Something in the way she sassed and threw attitude made me lose my mind. I had her back against the wall, both of her hands pinned above her head, and my face inches from hers before I’d realized what I was doing.

“You ain’t seen bossy yet, sweetheart. But you wanna keep throwing me attitude making my dick hard and me crazy, I’ll show you bossy.” Her eyes flared, and I knew she was just as affected as I was. I removed the distance and took her mouth. She moaned and surrendered.

I took more.

My dick throbbed between us and she rubbed herself against me.

Then I remembered.

I can’t afford you.

No man is going to help a woman without expecting something in return.

No one does something for free.

I pulled back and stared. Her eyes were still closed, and her face was soft.

Fuck, she was beautiful.

And broken.

I might be a dick for a whole assortment of reasons, but I didn’t take advantage of women. Ever. I’d watched enough dickwads use and hurt my mom growing up to know better. I had to keep my hands and cock to myself. My damn mouth, too. I had no business touching her in any way.

I wasn’t going to keep her.

I couldn’t fix her.

She deserved better.

“Come on,” I called to her when the doors slid open.

She stood gazing back at me with such vulnerability I wanted to flinch away. For the first time in my life I wished I was a better man. A man that was whole and complete. I wish I wasn’t so emotionally bankrupt and I could vanquish her demons. But I couldn’t. Not when I couldn’t even conquer my own.

She stood rooted to the floor. So, once again I grabbed her hand and gave it a tug, pulling her to my front door. I tried to ask nicely and not touch her, but just as she said she wouldn’t, she hadn’t followed my simple request.

I opened the door and pocketed my keys.

“Make yourself at home.”

I didn’t wait for her to reply. I needed a minute alone. And if I didn’t get out of this suit, I was going to suffocate.

Why did my penthouse suddenly feel smaller than the single-wide I grew up in?