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“I’m sorry I’m late.” I reached out and grabbed her bag. It was incredibly light, and I wondered what she had packed because it felt like nothing. “The nurse showed up late, and I needed to make sure that Mikey was comfortable with her,” she said.
Now, I felt like even more of an asshole. “It’s fine.” I walked towards my bedroom and pushed the door open and walked inside.
“You can put your stuff in the dress,” I told her, gesturing towards the drawers I’d emptied for her. “I’ve got space in the closet for you too.”
My discomfort was growing by the second. When I looked back at the doorway, Ivy was standing there. Her eyes wide.
“What? Do you think that you need more space?” I didn’t want to make her feel worse, but considering the weight of her suitcase, I didn’t think that she was going to need more than a drawer. At least for now. If we were going to be married, she was going to need a new wardrobe. A wife was a reflection on her husband, and mine couldn’t look like a pauper.
“We are staying in the same room?” she asked. Her cheeks were pink as she looked at the bed, and I knew what she was thinking.
I smirked at her. “Married couples share a bed.”
“We aren’t married yet,” she reminded me. The shyness was starting to leave her, and the sass was returning. I had to admit, as annoying as Ivy’s attitude could be, I liked this part of her much more.
I rolled my eyes at her puritanical behavior. “I don’t know why you are acting so virginal,” I told her. “I’ve already seen everything that you have to offer.” I leered at Ivy as I thought about the night that I watched Ivy dance on the stage. I’d been shocked to see her, and I hadn’t enjoyed the show as much as I should have.
Now, I reimagined what she looked like in that skimpy outfit. “Don’t be an asshole,” Ivy snapped.
I walked towards her slowly as I recalled how her perfect breasts bounced as she rode the pole with abandon. On stage was the freest I’d ever seen her, and I wondered how that might translate to the bedroom.
We were so close that I could smell the vanilla scent of her skin, and see the auburn streaks in her dark hair. “You were incredible on stage,” I told her. I reached out and fingered one of her loose curls. She never seemed to be able to keep all of her hair contained, and it suggested a wildness about her.
Her pink tongue reached out and licked her bottom lip, and I couldn’t stop the groan I released. “You’re going to be my wife, in every way that was possible.” The thought excited me, and I could feel my cock harden at the thought of getting inside of her.
Ivy’s hand went up to her neck, bringing my attention back to the yellowing bruises on her neck. “You tried to kill me that night,” she said, pulling back from me.
“I did what I thought was necessary to protect my family.” I wasn’t going to apologize for it. I wasn’t sorry, and if Ivy was going to be my wife, she was going to have to realize my world wasn’t like the one she was used to.
She shook her head and walked past me. “I’m not sleeping in here.”
“You will sleep wherever I tell you you will sleep. You agreed to marry me, and this is part of the deal.”
“I never agreed to this.”
I walked away from her. There was nothing to argue about. This was my house and Ivy was going to be my wife. Unlike my brother, I wasn’t going to coddle her. If we were going to be married, we were going to be married, and sex was part of the equation.
“I’m going to let you get ready for dinner,” I told her. “Be down in ten minutes or dinner is going to be cold.”
Ivy blinked as though she were surprised by my words. I walked out of the room expecting that she was going to take every second of her ten minutes. But she didn’t. “Wait!” she called out. “I don’t have anything to wear.”
I smirked slightly. For once, Sasha had anticipated something correctly. “There’s a black bag in the closet. You can wear what's in that to dinner.”
Ivy nodded. For a moment, she looked like she wanted to say something, but she didn’t. As I walked out of the door, she reached out and shut it. I smirked when I heard the lock click. Ivy may have accepted my ring, but she wasn’t ready to accept the other parts of being my wife.
She would though. She would.
* * *
Sitting on the couch, nursing a full glass of Scotch, I waited for Ivy to come out from the bedroom. For a moment, I wondered if she might not. She’d agreed to this marriage much more easily than I anticipated, and it made me suspicious. Of course, I’d done everything I could to sweeten the offer, but I’d expected more of a fight from her.
“Did you tell her that I picked out a dress for her to wear?” Sasha asked. She was biting her thumbnail nervously. Out of everyone, Sasha was the most determined to make this work. I suspected it was because she was desperate for a friend.
“I did,” I said, sighing. “I also told her she had five minutes.” I grumbled the last bit under my breath. Ivy was a contradiction. A stripper who bulked at the idea of having sex with her fiance. A woman with a fiery temper who pretended to be a meek mouse.
“Maybe she doesn’t like it, or it doesn’t fit?” Sasha asked, worried.
“I’m sure that it is fine,” Dom said. He seemed bored and mildly amused by all of this. Personally, I didn’t understand why he wanted to be here to begin with. I didn’t need him breathing down my neck about Ivy. He was the reason we were here. If he hadn’t married Sasha, a lot of this would never have happened.
