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“You were saying earlier that I missed my calling. What? Pole dancing in one of those skanky men’s clubs?”
Again, I studied her. She looked serious this time. “No fucking way. I’d hate men’s sleazy eyes all over you.” Ivy was testing me. With my player track record, that was understandable. Nevertheless, the disturbing thought of sleazy men jerking off over Ivy and her seductive bedroom moves meant only for my eyes felt like a punch in the gut.
Me, possessive? Since when?
As a way of lightening the mood, I grinned. “You do have a nice sway to your hips, and you are very agile.”
The thought of Ivy gyrating in a thong and those swirling things she’d pasted on her tits on her last visit to my apartment sent a bolt of arousal to my dick.
I bounced my eyebrows. “Let’s get in the car.”
She wore a questioning smirk. “But we only fucked two hours ago.”
“So?” I opened my hands.
Under the morning light with barely a scrap of makeup, Ivy looked so beautiful. I wrapped my arms around her and pressed my lips against hers.
She tasted sweet, seductive and dreamy. Her mouth was warm and soft, sending a wave of pleasure from my head down to my toes.
Yes… I could do this forever.
I released her from my arms, and we shared one of those wordless moments that still managed to convey deep understanding. Or at least it did for me.
We parked somewhere discreet, and I licked Ivy’s pussy until she screamed for me to stop, then she sucked me off within an inch of sanity. Ivy ended gyrating provocatively over my dick. That girl had more moves than a snake on crack. My dick loved her.
After collecting our senses, we drove back to the city, singing our lungs out to Taylor Swift.
While we hovered at the lights, I turned to Ivy. “You’re great to be with.”
She studied me for a moment. Her lopsided smile straightened. “I like being with you too.”
“Do you think your mother will forgive us for running away like that?”
“She knows me well enough.”
“I guess I’ve blown that ad campaign.”
“I don’t know about that. Mitch is a businessman,” she said.
I dropped her off at her place. “Dinner tonight?” I asked.
“That would be nice.” Her shimmering blue eyes held me captive.
In what was our own little spontaneous Tantric moment, I lost track of time. Then, snapping out of my trance, I asked, “I’ll make a booking for eight?”
I planned to pop the question. I wanted to. Asking Ivy to marry me was no longer just to appease my father.
A realization hit me while I gazed into Ivy’s twinkling blue eyes. I fell in deep, like I was seeing my soul for the first time.
My eyes pricked. Not tears. Me? A romantic? Since when?
Maybe that Tantra session we’d attended had opened up a portal to our twin souls, as the mellow instructor described. Before this weekend I wouldn’t have understood what that meant. Something about seeing oneself through another person’s eyes. Her eyes a mirror to my soul. At the time, I joked about it. But rather strangely, I felt different afterward. Kind of anchored.
“I’ll pick you up.”
“I can just meet you if it’s easier,” she said.
“No. I want to pick you up. Do it properly.”
