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She shook her head. “I just saw her too.”
The guy, meanwhile, kept switching his hungry gaze from Ivy to Fleur, probably trying to choose whose skin he wanted to glide his moisturized fingers over.
“I see you decided to ask Fleur along,” Ivy said, sounding possessive.
“And who’s your friend?” I cocked my head toward Yoga Dude, who’d broken into a deep lunge pose. I wanted to snarl at him.
He was definitely flexible. Last time I tried yoga, I’d nearly pulled a hamstring.
“I’m Drake,” the guy said.
“I’m Ivy, and this is Chase.” Ivy regarded Fleur, who fluttered her eyelashes and licked her lips.
She was hot to trot—a perfect candidate for horny Drake, who in those tights, started to show. He looked well fucking hung too. He wasn’t going near Ivy, not over my dead carnivorous body.
“So, Ivy, would you like to join me?” Drake asked.
I stepped in and took control. “She’s with me.”
Ivy’s eyes darted from me to Drake. Her lips curled slowly. She enjoyed being chosen first. How competitive of her.
Fleur, meanwhile, stood so close, I felt her shoulder rubbing against mine.
I imagined the facilitator could’ve cut the air with a knife. Sexual energy seemed to bounce off the walls. And the smile on his face told me he enjoyed observing aroused couples, making him more a voyeur than an instructor.
When Drake tried to take Ivy’s hand, I closed in on them. While flirty Fleur hovered close, vicariously helping my cause, Ivy pointed at me. “I’m with him.”
I puffed out a breath of relief. I wasn’t in the mood to touch anyone but Ivy.
We took our places on comfortable cushions.
I was already aroused. There was nothing like a pair of cocks fighting over a girl to get one’s blood racing.
A new thing for me. Normally, I would just move on to the next girl. But Ivy wasn’t the next girl.
She was the last girl.
And I meant that literally. I wanted her to be my last girl. No others.
Ever.
Just Ivy.
